Lover of all things pink Except...

The Pink Eye.

So I walked into the theater last night and Iain, my Scottish director pulled me aside very seriously and said, Ricky’s sick. Much to my chagrin, he told me that Ricky has strep throat (!) and pink eye (double !). Iain bought alcohol swabs and hand sanitizer, and told Ricky not to come to the theater until close to 7 that night (The show starts at 7:30, but call for the rest of us is 5:30). Not to belittle the seriousness of strep throat because I definitely don’t want that, but I am horrified and disgusted by Conjunctivitis, otherwise known to the layperson as pink eye. I contracted this dreadful taboo disease my senior year in high school from a guy I was dating at the time. The focker gave me pink eye after hanging out for the first time and eventually skipped out on my birthday party a few weeks later- the relationship fizzled shortly thereafter, but I did manage to keep his copy of Barber’s Adagio for Strings and it is the best recording of it I have ever heard. I consider it the spoils of the relationship. He gives me pink eye, I keep his limited edition Sony Classics Royal edition of a Bernstein recording.

Next to lice and worms, both of which I have been fortunate enough to never have, pink eye is third on my list of diseases that completely gross me out. I think I missed school for 3 or 4 days with pink eye my senior year because of the contagiousness of this wonky-eye-causing plague. Plus your eye gets all pink (imagine that), swollen, and cruddy. It’s absolutely nasty, and I refuse to be seen in public with it. Call me vain or considerate, but either way, you won’t see me out and about if I do end up catching this from Ricky.

Trust me, hands were washed excessively, I held my breath at every opportunity when on stage with him (but how hard this is when one is singing!), and wore my lace gloves the entire show as a protective shield. Not sure how effective any of that will be, but we’re popping vitamin c and Echinacea like it’s our job. And speaking of jobs, I must get back to mine.

Have a good weekend. Live long and prosper.

Ho_y Mo_ey!!

On my way to lunch today I told Ariana and Angela, I’m in a giddy mood. I feel like laughing. I hope we laugh a lot at lunch today.

We got on the subject of accents because I had a lady from California tell me on the phone today that I have one. "Where are you from," she said, "because you have an accent." She didn’t say it in an accusatory manner, but at the same time, I got defensive when I mentioned this customer’s comment to Joel and Ari. You DO have an accent Joel said. Come on, the guy’s from Texas. (Tex-@ss!) Your’re telling me that people from Texas don’t have accents? So a group of us are at lunch at Mexicali Grill (mmmmmm) and still talking about accents, when Ari and I tell everyone about a girl we went to school with at UK (yeah thanks I’m fine).

Michelle Napier was Miss Belle County Kentucky, a shady Pi (sorry Mary Anna!), gorgeous, but she knew it unfortunately, and had one of the thickest accents I have Ever heard. (Belle County is eastern Kentucky for your own point of reference; these are the mountain people.)

I had the pleasure of having several music classes with Michelle (prounounced Mee-Shay-ale)(and I’m not kidding), one of which was Vocal Diction. In diction we as singers learned the international phonetic alphabet (IPA for short), which is a bunch of symbols and letters for each vowel and consonant sound. The idea is if you know all the IPA symbols, you can read and pronounce words in English and any other language, even if you don’t necessarily speak the language. It sounds way more complicated than it is, I promise.

One day while working on English diction, we were IPA-ing the word “walk.” This word gave Michelle some trouble because the way she pronounces that word, she puts a Giant L in the middle of it. ie. Wa-LL-k. I explained to the lunch table today that of course the L was silent, and so for Michelle English diction in general was a real nightmare due to her thick southern accent. Joel promptly pointed out that I too have a southern accent (I still don’t see it, but whatever). "Yes," I say, "but mine’s not that bad."

What transpired next was everyone at the table laughing at the preposterous idea of a silent L. "He__o, _aura. You’re the Coo__est!" I was laughing so hard tears were welling up in my eyes, but I still maintained that there is such a thing as the Silent L! Meanwhi_e everyone e_se had a fie_d day saying Joe_ and Ange_a, and go to he__.

However, not too _ong after _unch I received this emai_ from Joe_ titled Ho_y Mo_ey:

FULL CREDIT, Amanda! Look at that pronunciation!

-J

walk (wôlk, wôk)
v. walked, walk·ing, walks
v. intr.
1. To move over a surface by taking steps with the feet at a pace slower than a run: a baby learning to walk; a horse walking around a riding ring.
2.
a. To go or travel on foot: walked to the store.
b. To go on foot for pleasure or exercise; stroll: walked along the beach looking for shells.
c. To move in a manner suggestive of walking: saw a woodpecker walking up the tree trunk.
3. To conduct oneself or behave in a particular manner; live: walks in majesty and pride.
4. To appear as a supernatural being: The specter of famine walks through the land.
5. Slang.
a. To go out on strike.
b. To resign from one's job abruptly; quit.
c. To be acquitted: The alleged killer walked.
6.
a. Baseball. To go to first base after the pitcher has thrown four pitches ruled as balls.
b. Basketball. To move illegally while holding the ball; travel.
7. Obsolete. To be in constant motion.

Good to know. Now we can stop sending e-mai_s to one another.

A funny thing happened on the way to the stage…

Pirates is in full-blown swing right now… only 7 more performances to go! It sounds like a ton, but I am loving the opportunity I’ve been given to be on stage again. Mostly I’ve had good shows. I’ve felt good about my performances with a few small exceptions.

I missed an entrance cue on opening night, trying play it off once I came onstage, but trust me, it hasn’t happened again. One night last weekend I blanked out on my words and started singing Ricky’s lyrics before getting back on track with my own. Really nobody but Ricky and I would know the difference though there, so not a total crisis. And Praise the Lord, I have not fallen down the stairs yet- (and that is a Big Yet!)- so that’s a blessing. I tell you, it’s tough to carry a parasol, hold up a dress, and sing while walking down rickety stairs. (The things we put ourselves through as actors- oh, the horrible injustice!) Speaking of parasols though, I did have a slight scare with that on Friday night I think it was. At the end of “Poor Wandering One” I put the parasol back up for the end of the song, and my lace glove got caught in the metal clasp-thingie at the top, so I panicked momentarily, then finished the song with one hand holding the parasol at the bottom, and the other at the top where it was caught. Luckily, after the song was through I was able to pry my glove out without too much trouble!

And finally, topping our list of funny/panicked moments during the Pirates of Penzance (or Pissants, as my boss Joel would say): yesterday I resisted all of the snacks that people had brought to munch on backstage. Any Diva knows that eating candy and chips before going onstage is a no-no. For one, it makes your breath stink, and two, you get all that garbage stuck in your teeth and coating your throat before you have to sing. Well by the end of the afternoon I was hungry and the willpower just wasn’t there. I had been eyeing this bag of cheesy-poufs for a while, and the bright orange bag began to stare at me. Fine, I said! I’ll just have one. It was almost the end of the last act, and all of my by singing stuff was through for the most part. So I hastily grabbed the bag and allowed the crunchy cheesy goodness to melt in my mouth. Immediately I was reminded why I do not ever buy them: you can’t eat just one. Suddenly it became my mission to finish the 10 cheese poufs that were left in the ginormous bag. Unfortunately though, the Major-General’s solo was already going on, and it was just about time to make our final entrance. Horrified, I realized I was going to have to go onstage with cheese poufs stuck in my teeth! I quickly swished with water and luckily saw that there were no visible remnants of my guilty pleasure, but back in my molars there was definitely some there. No big deal I thought- by the time I have to sing my Poor Wandering One reprise I’ll have the gunk out. This meant that while I was onstage I had to slowly and cautiously maneuver my tongue to get the crud out of the crevices. It’s a big crowd scene- no one will notice. WRONG! It was the first thing my mom and my friend Jenni said to me after the show! “Did you eat something right before you went onstage??” I’d been Caught orange-handed. (No literally- those things turn your fingers orange.) So much for being sly.

PS- I know I got some complaints yesterday for not having blogged in several days (you know who you are.) but let me just say that it was not my fault- the blogger website was down and would not let me post a new blog yesterday. Time permitting, I'll post another one later today. If not, deal with it, because unlike my former job, I don't get paid unless I work at this job! :o)

some heavy and not-so-heavy things to think about

A punny joke for the day

This is on my daily calendar-O-Jokes- most of which are about as funny as Schindler’s List, but today’s was mildly amusing:

Pearl: What are you doing?

Shirl: Making pottery.

Pearl: To earn money?

Shirl: No, I’m just kiln time.

Thank you, Thank you… try the veal, I’ll be here all night, folks.

Ok, how about this one:

Smalls: Baby Ruth? I thought she was a famous potter.

The cute, fat catcher (did he have a name? I’m blank): You’re Kiln me, Smalls!

Ha Ha….. Ha Ha…. Hey- why am I the only one laughing here? Buehler?….

To totally change gears, we here at the headquarters of the Divadomain sometimes feel we must add real, thought provoking topics on here for you to ponder or comment on, in addition to the pointless jargen that often winds up here, in order to maintain the high level of excellence and worthiness of your time that we try to provide here.

Terry Schiavo’s death today has sparked an unreal amount of controversy over a person’s right to die. What do we think about all this? If you were, God forbid, hurt in some sort of accident that reduced you to a vegetative state would you want to be kept alive? I’m not so sure I would. I know the pain it would cause my family to keep me in a hospital for years, and with no hope for recovery, are we just playing God by allowing medical science to keep us alive? However, I CAN look at it from the other standpoint that says as a Christian, we can always pray for a miracle. Who’s to say that God would never have healed Terry? Or who’s to say that God did not provide doctors with the knowledge and ability to sustain life in this manner? I think that if a person I was close to was in this predicament, and they were a believer, I say let them go to God and live in peace and perfection. Keeping someone alive artificially is not for the benefit of the incapacitated person, it is for the benefit of those close to that person who do not want to let go of their loved one. I realize this is also one of those things that many people say they know what their opionion is, but until you are faced with the problem, you wouldn’t truly know how you would react. Just wondering what other fellow readers think about a person's right to die.

movie reviews and thoughts on candy

Hotel Rwanda. Finally saw it- an incredible movie. No longer will I just think of Basher from Ocean’s 11 when I see Don Cheadle. Rather, this role will be his defining one I think. He plays a dignified hotel manager that becomes involved in housing Tutsi refugees during the civil war and genocide that took place in Kegali, Rwanda in 1994. The story is a true one, and accurately depicts what actually occurred over there just over 10 years ago. (wow… Clinton was president 10 years ago? I feel old!) I’m not sure if I agree with Thomas that it was the best movie of the year- although along with the Passion of the Christ, it made the biggest political statement. I’d definitely put Hotel Rwanda in my top 5 of the year though. Go see it, or add it to your upcoming Netflix rental queue. Bradley, Borders, and Walsh give it 2 thumbs up.

Jumping topics, does it make sense to anyone else that the sooner you eat all of your Easter candy, the sooner you can go back to eating healthy again? (Speaking of Eating Healthy- we 3 watched Super Size Me last week- also a Great Movie! Definitely rent this one- it is amazingly funny and scary at the same time to see what a high fat diet can do your body in a month’s time.) (Hearing his Mc-puns alone is worth the rental fee…. McGurgles… McFat…. McBrick). So what if I ate 3 bags of mini Cadbury eggs yesterday? That means I won’t eat them today! Those nasty chocolate temptations are out of sight, out of mind, and into my belly (which has to fit into a bathing suit in about a month). I know all the food conscious will say moderation is key, and you don’t have to deprive yourself of a treat, you just have to control the portions. Well all that goes out the window to me when I have a bag full of chocolate staring at me! In my little world, the sooner I eat all that candy, the sooner it is gone and won’t be there tempting me to eat it, right? Who’s with me on this one?

Sex In The Non-City

Love was in the air this weekend. No, not for me (ha ha that sure would be funny though, wouldn’t it?) but at Radnor Lake. The critters were out in abundance on a gorgeous Saturday morning as the Penthouse Pets embarked on our looooong hike (thank you Emmy Sue for thoroughly kicking my butt). We saw a Ginormouus Snapping Turtle (“offspring, Jellyman; Jellyman, offspring.”), a bunch of smaller turtles basking in the sun along the banks of the lake (“Turrrrrtle. Turrrrtle. Am I not turtley enough for your turtle club?”), pink, purple, and white flowers covering the hills, and even heard frogs sounding their mating calls. On our final strectch back though we were able to witness 2 snakes mating on the side of the path. There was a park ranger there to point it out to passer-by-ers such as ourselves, so it was a pretty interesting thing to witness. The female snake was partially under a log and was “on bottom” while the male snake coiled himself around her. We decided they were Missionary Snakes, and had a chuckle while marveling at the wonder of God’s creation.

While on the car ride home Rhonda Lu blurted out a now-classic Penthouse Quote when asked if she didn’t realize that the reason I would be able to go bowling with them that night was because I didn’t have shows all weekend. “I don’t think very much” she exclaimed. There you have it folks.

That night me, Em, Rhonda, Mary Anna, and Karla went to El Arroyo to cross off one more restaurant on our Places To Eat list. I must say, the free (cheese) queso was yummy, but not worth the drive, the shady beef (gristle) or the terrible service. I think Rhonda was satisfied (esp with the margaritas) but Em and I won’t be going back any time soon. But since we were so far out (this place was off I-24 near Starwood) and Emily was driving, we opted to go bowling out in Smyrna (Read: Smer-na, not Suh-mer-na). Of course it would just happen to be the Youth Bowling championships that night, and there was like a 2 hour wait, so we ended up starting a trend in the downstairs room at Melrose (the best bowling alley in Nashville) and had a grand old time. Rhonda won her first game of bowling ever, Em and Karla stayed neck and neck, and the 3 of us who are bowling-ly challenged- me, Lana, who met us there, and Mary Anna, encouraged one-another. AND, it was my first ever time to cyber bowl, so that was exciting.

The Easter Bunny came and went, and brought me lots of pink in my Easter basket, plus several small bags of Cadbury Mini-eggs (my new favorite Easter candy). What I really wish the Easter Bunny had brought me however, was a trip to the final four for UK. As most of you know by now, the Wildcats lost to Mich State in a double-overtime game yesterday, and their season is now over. Senior Chuck Hayes will be greatly missed next year. Coldplay is in the cd player and I am sufficiently bummed out. Although Coldplay is a step up on the depressing music level, because last year after our shocking second-round loss to UAB it was Radiohead in the car for several weeks. Every Cats fan will agree though: next year is our year. Till then, baseball starts in a few weeks so we can keep up with Cinci and Florida to occupy ourselves for a while. It’s always something, isn’t it? A Happy Dreary Monday to you all.

Holy Thursday and the ridiculous crap of Tweeners

Bible study last night proved to be full of powerful teaching from John Eldredge’s book "Waking the Dead," and laughter from the group of 9 of us that were there. First of all, we came up with a new phrase. Instead of WWJD, we will now say, WDJG? Or Where Did Jesus Go? This is to remind us that Jesus’ story does not end at the cross. He is risen and alive, and this is the good news of our faith. Eldredge brought up the point that for the first 400 years after Jesus’ death, the cross did not appear in any Christian art whatsoever, but now the cross has become synonymous with Christianity. So we girls decided to take back the true meaning of our faith and instead of wearing crosses around our necks, that we would wear rocks. These would symbolize the rock that was rolled away from Jesus’ empty tomb, thereby promting the phrase, WDJG? (Buehler?… Buehler?)

Also, to confirm another Boys Are Dumb moment, Katy was telling us about a discussion she overheard between some male co-workers. They were describing some girls as being hot, but too hot, and therefore not attainable. Then others they described as “Tweeners.” The example they gave was Leann Rymes. “Some days she looks smokin’ and other days she looks like a horse.” So she’s a Tweener. Tweeners are apparently more attainable, and therefore worthy of these men’s affection. Are you kidding me?? There is such a thing as a girl being too hot? Is that the same thing as guys saying some women are too confident, too put-together, and ultimately too good for you? Is this really what you men are thinking, or are they just the excuses you tell us. Remember, I have read the book "He’s Just Not That Into You," so males, if you’re just not interested then say so- don’t blame it on me being out of your league and giving me the whole, “you will find someone else who deserves you so much more than I do” crap. If I wanted someone else I’d find someone else. I want you. Now either be the person I need you to be or get packin, but don’t give me pitiful excuses along the way.

So as a female I need to know if there is really such a thing, and I beg the question, how hot is too hot?

Today by the way, is Holy Thursday. Take a moment today (perhaps during your dinner tonight) to remember why we celebrate this day.

Godspell Gone Wrong

So the plans changed and I went to see Godspell last night with Thomas at the Boilerroom. I knew nothing about the show, save what I researched online yesterday: It was written by Steven Schwartz (the same guy who wrote Wicked, Pippin, and other shows that I am curious to see/hear) (yes, I was CUR-ious!!!), the show is based on the gospel of Matthew, and is set at an amusement park. The production is very free form, meaning that each director has a lot of leeway with the set, costumes, and how the cast plays their parts, enabling them to add current jokes that the audience would get, and play on their strengths as comedic actors.

This particular cast was hilarious, but almost too-overbearing in their numerous add-libbed one-liners so that sometimes the story was lost, even for someone like me who was familiar with all of the stories they were portraying. A person who did not immediately recognize the Biblical teachings would have an even harder time following along at some points.

The majority of the show is Jesus teaching various parables and then the other actors acting them out. This production even used a finger puppet show to tell the story of the Good Samaritan, and the parable of the seed and the sewer with the cast pretending to be seeds, rocks, and weeds was particularly funny. Also the story of the prodigal son was heightened with the use of various accents to the characters of the father, sons, and servants.

For the crucifixion Judas strapped Jesus onto a big carnival wheel, and spun him around while a strobe light added dramatic effect. This scene was very powerful, as I had wondered how they would approach the passion in an amusement park setting. However, the biggest shock came at the end of the show, with Jesus’ death. The cast carried him off, and then moments later they all ran onstage for their curtain call. I sat there stunned.
"What?? There’s no resurrection?!" I said incredulously to Thomas. "How can you have a production about Jesus and leave him dead? The resurrection is what makes Jesus, Jesus!"
All of a sudden what I had felt was a great ministry tool, and so appropriate to do at this time of Easter, I felt had been cheapened to a secular, worldy view of Jesus being a nice man, and a good teacher.

Mike has preached on this before though. You can’t say that Jesus was a good teacher but not the son of God or the Messiah like he claimed to be. Because then Jesus would be a liar, and what good teacher lies to his students? Godspell ended where I feel it should have began. I talked with one of my friends afterwards who was in the show and she said that in some productions they opt to do a reprise of one of the songs, and bring Jesus back on, but I am still disturbed that this wasn’t written in the show to begin with.

So other than the upsetting ending, I liked the show. I am eagerly anticipating learning more of Steven Schwartz’s music, as he has become one of the most prolific composers of musical theater in the past few decades. As a self-proclaimed theater nerd (or just a nerd in general- take your pick) I have really slacked off on my knowledge of current hits and composers, so we’re presently trying to rectify that. We're also trying to sell choral music to churches and bookstores. It's difficult living this double life sometimes!

Happy Spy Wednesday- the REAL name for today's Holy Day leading up to Easter.

Smoothsday Tuesday

Smoothsday Tuesday! That’s the word for today. I wish I had a better story about how the second day of Holy week came to be known as Smoothsday Tuesday, but alas, I am at a loss. I think it came about because there is no other word that rhymes with Tuesday, and we needed a name for the day. However, every time I think of Smoothsday Tuesday, it brings to mind fond memories of the morning after my senior prom. I know- totally random. But for prom that year I had several people spend the night at my house and Mom cooked breakfast for us that next morning. She made this one cream cheese breakfast casserole dish in particular that my friend Sam named “Super-Smooth-Easy-Cruise.” Sam, by the way was the runner up for most individualistic in my class for the senior superlatives. What was so funny is that he actually always Tried to be an individual by saying things for shock value, and wearing ridiculous outfits to school. The kid who actually won for most individualistic mumbled when he talked, and told people that he had an antenna under his hair and was actually from the planet Venus. He was also a drama geek, bless his heart. (What IS it with those obnoxious drama kids anyways??) So anyways… forgive the jumping all over the place today but I need to vent a moment. I have had a Destiny’s Child lyric in my head since a late-night phone conversation last night that says, “I’m not gonna dis you on the Internet, cause my momma taught me better than that.” This was prompted by a thoughtless comment that made me want to broadcast this idiocy for all to read and sympathize with my injustice. But alas, I will do the classy thing and only mention this in passing so as not to smear anyone’s name in the mud. But darn it, I feel better already having alluded to the nasty remark. So take that, person who doesn’t think before they speak!!

Now, onward Christian soldiers! It is time for me to call my churches and bookstores and do fun sales things like that. Lunch with Holt this afternoon. Later tonight me and Tommy D are having dinner and seeing Hotel Rwanda finally. If Thomas says it was the best movie he saw all year long, then it is definitely a must-see. He’s always my ultimate movie critic and I hope to study under him and pass on any film or theater knowledge I gain. (There’s your shout-out Thomas…. Now figure out how to post comments and return any phone calls that may come to your phone from mine. PS- and I quote: “leaving on Friday. I probably didn’t mention that it was great seeing you.” I TOLD you I wasn’t crazy!!)

Fecunday Monday

Happy Fecunday Monday!! That’s right people, it’s Holy Week- the defining week for Christians, leading up to Easter. Now I don’t mean to be trite or take lightly what this week truly means for believers, but as always, there is a story to be told as to why today is called Fecunday Monday. It all started my senior year in high school (cue misty haze which then clears to reveal Brentwood High School and an 18 year old Amanda) in my AP English class where it was all the smart kids and me. Somehow the word fecundity came up in a class discussion (how do these things ever come up anyways?). As it turns out, fecundity is a noun meaning:

1: the intellectual fruitfulness of a creative imagination [syn: fruitfulness] 2: the state of being fertile; capable of producing offspring [syn: fertility] 3: the quality of something that causes or assists healthy growth [syn: fruitfulness]

So the smart kids got to show off their extensive vocabulary, and Amanda got to learn a new word that day (we all know how fond of the English language I am, so I was excited!) So just for fun the rest of that year we used fecundity, fecund, and fecundaliscious in class as much as possible.

Fast forward to Holy Week 1999- the week before Easter. Growing up with one side of my family being Catholic, I knew that certain days of this week had special names… Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, but I didn’t know what Monday and Tuesday were called. Well she didn’t know either, so I therefore decided that the Monday before Easter would forever be dubbed Fecunday Monday. Tune in tomorrow for Tuesday’s specially-named day.

How Sweet It Is

So who else’s brackets are shot to Hades??? (Raising my hand high in the air) But that’s why it’s called March Madness, baby; So that little no-name Cinderella teams like Bucknell and Vermont can move forward in the Big Dance while crybabies Syracuse and Uconn, both in the final game last year, can go back to their snooty Eastern schools. Meanwhile the Kentucky Wildcats can continue on in their quest for yet another national title (You Bet Your Sweet 16 @ss they are!!!). But I’m not gloating or anything.

Luck of the Irish

Let the madness begin! At precisely 11:20 am central standard time the University of Kentucky Wildcats help kick off the beginning of March Madness. It also happens to be St. Patty’s Day, so make sure if you are of legal drinking age you consume a green beer for me tonight. (The self-imposed drinking ban continues as the show opens tomorrow night and alcohol dries out your vocals chords) (That music score is a beast so I don’t want to take any chances!) (Plus one beer is just wasted calories.) By the way, you know what works as a great cure-all? Green Beer. This started last year at out St Patty’s Day celebration at Bailey’s on Broadway. For example:

Amanda: Hey Ari, I’m really bummed out about my love life.
Ari: Oh really? Well you know what’ll help that?
(In unison): Green Beer!

Rhonda: Yall, I am really stressed out about my big presentation at work today.
Amanda and Emily: well you know what’ll help relax you?
(All in unison): Green Beer!

George W: I’m an incompetent president, and half of my cabinet has just resigned… what can I do?
Amanda: No idea. Sorry about that one. No, okay, I guess I’ll continue to play along… Mr. W, you need some Green Beer.

So you get the idea.

Okay… imagine there was a time lapse here of about 5 hours, and now it is 2 oclock in the afternoon. Kentucky has just won (barely) (luck of the Irish I guess)… Alabama has just lost (darn that 12-5 upset!)… and now it’s time for me to learn how to use my phone and get crackin’ on my sales. How very exciting for me. I will be selling choral music to the sweet people of Alabama and those in Washington State. Guess I shouldn’t bring up basketball to my Alabama customers this afternoon, huh?

Alrighty then… go do whatever it is you do. I will be checking live updated ncaa scores online and attempting to start doing my job on my own (pretending he’s beside me… all alone, I walk with him till morning…) 10 points for anyone besides Ari who can tell me what that is from!

march madness

it's officially begun.. the time of the year when all basketball fanatics become absolutely useless in their jobs, in their plays, in their lives... basketball becomes all-consuming. well, okay, maybe not to that extreme, but this Thursday Does begin the ncaa tournament. I am sad to say that while my Cats are an extremely talented team, they are just not consistant enough for me to pick them going all the way this year (Patrick Sparks, I'm talking to you!). Go to the above link to get all the latest and greatest info and updates on the tournament and fill out your brackets. Let the fun begin.

Also speaking of fun and new beginnings, the job is going great... my internet and email are now working. And of course that's the mark of a good job right??? Also I am getting excited about making my Cubie a pink respite from the craziness of work. How fun is the word Cubie by the way? I think it's such a nice alternative to describe a work space which is inherently impersonal and generic. But I have a running list of things I need to bring and/or buy to make my space my own. Look out Brentwood Benson- the pink parade is coming! Happy Tuesday everyone.

oh where, oh where has my little blog gone

.... oh where, oh where can it beeeee???

Ha ha- you thought I was gone forever. Never fear, for this DIVA, armed with her new job and an expensive antibiotic (what happened to the days where mom and dad paid for medicine and you had no idea how much it cost??) has returned to you in cheery spirits. Things are going well at Brentwood Benson, life of course is not slowing down, the show opens next week and I have scarcely a second to spare! Hence the lack of blogging. The dial-up internet at ye olde apartment is a lesson in patience that I am not willing to fail at this point in time, so I am here at Chateau Bradley taking precious moments to say hello and spread some of that giddy sunshine and new job cheer! I am getting paid to hang out with fun people and listen to music. Yesterday I had a conversation with a girl about URSHER. I smiled on the inside. It just definitely proves I was at the Bone and Joint clinic for too long, that's for dang sure.

The Madness has begun people- March Madness that is. Oh yes, the SEC tournament is well under way and NCAA is approaching. Who else thinks Digger Phelps is an idiot for his fact or fiction segment on sports center yesterday? Who doesn't even know who digger Phelps is? raise your hands. ok, good. now raise your hands if you have ever been stung by a jellyfish. Have you ever seen those little random poll-the-audience questions they have playing before a movie sometimes? That one actually says "Clap your hands if you've been stung by a jellyfish, but of course we are on computers here and I would not be able to hear you clapping. How silly would THAT be?

Have a great day, and thanks for stopping by. I'm Amanda Bradley??

Martha Focker

I know what you're thinking. This should be a joyous day- it's my last ever at the Bone & Joint Clinic. The sun is shining and it is an absolutely gorgeous day here in Franklin, TN. But still, I have these nagging feelings that have put me in the crummiest mood. I didn't get to see Dave Barnes play last night in the Boro, because I thought that I wouldn't cancel Bible study and just see him in 2 weeks when he plays at Exit/In. Well stupid funny man Barnes has decided to change nights at Exit/In and is now playing that Friday night instead of Wednesday. This is fine for anyone who doesn't have Opening Night of their show that same night. Then there was a ticket mix-up with Marc Broussard tonight so I'm not going to see him either. Several relationships in my life are strained right now, which makes me think it must be me since I'm the one with all the problems. Switching jobs on Monday while exciting is going to be hard- change is never easy. I just realized Kentucky is playing on Sunday at 11, which means that I can't go to both church and Sunday School, and as much as I miss Sunday School, it's Kentucky's last game and it's against Florida. Then I also have rehearsal at 1pm that day, meaning I'll either miss the end of the game (not happening) or else be late to rehearsal. I figure I don't enter till the end of the 7th number- they won't miss me too terribly much- I'm only the lead, right? And on top of everything else, for a fleeting moment I thought I was going to get to see James tonight and tomorrow and now due to cirumstances out of either of our control, that's not going to happen either.

Wow. I just re-read what I wrote and you'd think the sky was falling or something. I guess I can appreciate the fact that while yes, maybe life is crappy right now, things are really not that bad. The drama queen in me sees things for being bigger deals than they are. The stubborness in me will not allow me to let those things go, and the Little Bear is just enjoying being grumpy I guess.

Cats and More Cats

Tonight the University of Kentucky will play their last home game at Rupp tonight. It’s senior night, and I’m so sad I can’t be there. It was senior night 2 years ago that I sang at, and attended my last home ball game. Now That is depressing- to have not been to Rupp in 2 years… but I got some mighty fine barbecue. We take on the Vols tonight, and like I said earlier in the season, it has taken me a long time to be able to actually cheer for Kentucky and against UT, and not just be happy to see either team win, but I’m finally there. We don’t lose on senior night though, so there’s little to worry about. Anyone who wants to read a tear-jerker article can see this one on senior Chuck Hayes or this one on our other senior, Josh Carrier. Or maybe it's just me and I’m extremely emotional today, or maybe it was just the Mexican food from lunch rearing its ugly head.

Ari’s off to Reno for a few days. ("So unless we want to do this job in Reno, we’re in Barney…. Barney Rubble… Trouble." So yeah, I really need to see Hotel Rwanda because until then all I can think of is Basher from Ocean’s 11 when I see Don Cheadle!!) This means that her cat Kiki (Dee) (Don’t go breakin’ my heart) and I will get to spend some quality time together. We all know I am not extremely fond of cats. And cats are not extremely fond of me. But for Kiki I will sacrifice.

Ok, so yeah. Go Cats. We’ve just clinched our 43rd SEC title. We should have a Number One seed in the tourney… March Madness, here we come Baby!

So much to do, so little time

That’s my life in a sentence. The show opens in a little over 2 weeks. I’m not off book completely. I don’t feel 100 percent great vocally. (But I never will). So much to do, so little time.

I am over 2 years behind on my scrapbooks and putting pictures into albums. Whatever happened to Christmas and Summer and Spring breaks to get these things done? So much to do, so little time.

Spring and Summer are approaching fast. We girls know this means cute tank tops and flip-flops (yea!) but it also means swimsuits. Time to start the daily Pilates back up. So much to do, so little time.

My last day at the Bone & Joint Clinic is Thursday. (Praise the Lord and pass the amunition) I spent a good bit of my afternoon going through emails I had saved in my work inbox, reliving the drama that is my life, and laughing at the visual progression of the SOGWEAW emails and friendships, forwarding the good ones to my yahoo address. I have so many loose ends to tie up here, so much crap to bring home, and 2 days to get it all done. So much to do, so little time.

I still have all these questions for God regarding my faith. My quiet times are not happening. But I put that stuff off because I have for all eternity to get that stuff straightened out, for goodness sakes. This other stuff is important Now. Except that we are not ever promised tomorrow and Jesus said to be ready to give an answer at any day or any hour. So much to do, so little time.

I thrive on staying busy- I have since at least high school, maybe before that. Mom says I’m too popular. My roommates who never see me don’t know how I do it, and tell me I need to learn to say no. But if I say no, then I miss out on things I want to do! Because it’s not like I fill my time up doing things I hate. I can’t help it if the world is my playground and I want to take my God-given talents and desires and experience it all! Everyone is on my case for not getting enough sleep- I’ve been sick for almost 2 months, which is highly unlike me. I think I am getting to that inevitable breaking point though where I can’t take it any more and need a few days off to myself. I’m taking Friday off to rest and relax (and maybe scrapbook!) so that I will be able to start my new job on Monday fresh and rejuvenated. Trust me. This weekend will be Nothing like the last. And soon enough I will have my weeknights free for the most part with Pirates running on the weekend. Until then though, there is so much to do, and so little time.

to be thirteen and other tales from Saturday

So are you the reader enjoying these abbreviated blogs? I’ve put them in little snippets in chronological order rather than posting one big massive weekend blog, so I hope this keeps you interested longer. I know those big long paragraphs can be intimidating. I found out that one of my mom’s best friends reads the divadomain on a regular basis (cool) but that my sister and her better half don’t ("uh-uh. Not Cool."). What gives? Well anyways, now we’re onto Saturday.

Ari and I met at my house to watch the Wildcats handily beat ranked Alabama at Alabama. We started out rough, and none of us were sure that we were going to still be sitting on the coach watching the game before it was over. But then Patrick Sparks became my hero and knocked down 7 3-pointers, 5 of them in the second half alone. The kid could do no wrong and was making these insane shots from way beyond the arc. This put me in a great mood of course. Plus it was Saturday and sunny and 60 degrees or so. These are the days that make me happy to be a Tennessean. I talked to Amanda Holt the day before, who was spending the weekend in the Cape, where they were expecting 10 inches of snow or something crazy like that. Now don’t me wrong- I love snow, but I’ll take the spring-like weather in February any day of the week.

After the game Casey-Michael stopped by the house on his bike. (Casey just also happens to be the son of our family friend who reads the blog, for your own point of reference). Casey is 13 but seems so much younger than I was at that age. When I was 13 I was sooo grown up- at least I thought I was! He proceeded to tell us all about how the girl he likes just broke up with another guy. So what does that mean nowadays to go out with somebody I asked Casey. Do they actually go anywhere? (sidenote. In middle school my parents always thought it was soooo funny to ask me "Where ‘ya goin?" When I said I was "Going with" so-and-so. It used to drive me crazy. Of course we didn’t actually GO anywhere, but that’s just what we called it. I would swear to never do something like that to my kids someday, but I know myself too well) So Casey proceeded to tell us that this particular girl and now-ex kissed under the stairs at her house. That’s what 13-year-old couples do these days we learned. Casey also said that this same girl kissed another guy in front of him and he didn’t even care. Why not, we asked him? Deal with it he responded. This was his snippy remark after everything. Deal with it. Must be another 13-year-old thing. Our young Romeo did say that he was going to ask out said strumpet to go to a movie- that’s way more than any 13-year-old I ever knew would do, so I was impressed. I’ll let you know how the teenage melodrama turns out.

So since Friday night was the girls night IN, Saturday turned into the Girls Night Out. The Penthouse became the gathering spot as we settled on the Tin Roof to get rusted. I was peeved because the weekend cover had gone up from 3 to 4 dollars, plus the music was terrible until 12 or 12:30. And I cannot discuss the woman violently dancing to Rocky Top that was bent over slapping her legs on beats one and three… her friends were nearby so all we could do was to exchange wide-eyed looks at one another on the dance floor. I am not going to lie. We’re all friends here. I enjoyed myself a little too much Saturday night, to the point where Sunday morning came and went, and I was still in bed. At 11:45 I woke up horrified as I immediately came to the realization that I had missed church. Truly I was sad and disappointed. I broke the rule I have for myself that says I can go out on Saturday nights as long as it doesn’t interfere with me getting up for Church on Sunday morning. Plus, and I swear it was only an afterthought- I was going to miss Green Hills Grille and the Pure Fried Goodness! So I moped around the house and talked on the phone before sulking over to the house to lounge around with the fam all day, and didn’t come back to the apt till after the Ooscars last night. An uneventful end to an eventful weekend for sure.

Friday: part II

Emmy Sue, Rhonda Lu, Ari Jo, and myself got together at the Penthouse for a Girls Night In. There were supposed to be others but they all backed out. Shady girls! Just kidding- I love them all. We had a few drinks and munched on those new Pizza Hut dippin strips- 2 thumbs up for those- they were tasty, played Catch Phrase (Em: It’s the name of the bird who sits on your shoulder and talks. Rhonda Lu: Canary!), we danced to an old school cd mix of Em’s and of course, URsher, Ari tried to teach me how to do the African Booty Shake (where’s Sammy when you need him?) and Ari and I initiated Em and Rhonda into the WTF club- please meet our newest members, Frenchie and Country. :o) (This makes no sense to you unless you went to UK, I realize) Finally around 4:30 Em and I were the last to drift off to dream land but not until after I called and talked to James, who doesn’t even remember me calling I later found out! Guess I am just that forgettable a person. True, Saturday morning came early, and the apartment reeked of pancakes and the kitchen was an absolute Mess, but who knew that staying in could be so much fun??

AJ and RL cheesin' up it

Break-it-down-like-James-Brown time

chocolate chip pancakes at 2am

My world famous Chocolate Martinis

It’s 5 o’clock somewhere

It was a long rough week, so the Penthouse Pets decided to celebrate the beginning of the weekend with a little Happy Hour at the apt. I got home early, got the necessary provisions ready, and cranked up the URsher for our impromptu dance party. Em arrived shortly after and I played bartender by making us some yummy margaritas in hot pink glasses nonetheless. Rhonda arrived next, disappointed that we had started the party without her. Sorry bout it, we said. It’s Friday and we just couldn’t wait. Plus I was on a time constraint. (What else is new, right?) I had rehearsal at 7 that night. What followed though was a ton of laughter, dancing on chairs (beware of the wicker trunk- it’s not as sturdy as it looks), Emily coming out of the closet, barnyard animal noises, and did I mention laughter? Luckily Rhonda decided to document the occasion and so below are a couple of photos from the event.

showing off our superpowers... it is definitely a Friday!

Dance party at the Penthouse

24 going on 34 and the weekend preview

I feel like a frumpy middle-aged woman today sitting here at my desk drinking a Diet Doctor Pepper complete with lipstick markings on the can. I feel like should be driving a minivan or something. And I’ve never even drunk a diet doctor pepper before but somehow it just seemed right today. I also had 2 cups of coffee this morning. What has happened to me?? Not so very long ago I was living a carefree life with very little responsibility and I didn’t fully appreciate it until I was trapped in the Real World. No, not the one where 7 strangers are picked to live in a house and have their lives taped (MJ from Nashville is an idiot by the way- he’s on the Real World Philly), but the one where I sit at a desk for 8 hours a day and do something I hate, listening to music on my computer, and checking my yahoo home page every 15 minutes to see what new headline has popped up. (See? This is why those comments on the blog are important- it gives me something new to read and ponder while I check my email for the hundredth time.)

I’m excited about the possibilities of this weekend. Some after-work drinks are a possibility, as is a UK game viewing party at Chateau Bradley (all Nashvillians are welcome- just give me a buzz), perhaps some dancing, maybe a little Tin-Roofing it… who knows. We are just That Crazy. And spontaneous. (Hey- I’m working on it.)

I’m actually excited to go to church on Sunday. I haven’t been in about a month and I have really missed it. Aside from feeling disconnected with all of the people there, I have really missed Mike’s preaching, missed worshipping with other believers, and missed the music. I did go to church with James and his family last weekend, and as glad as I was to be there, it made me miss BBC even more! Everyone has already made plans to go to Green Hills Grille after service on Sunday, and Rhonda is trying to convince me to go to get some of the Pure Fried Goodness that they only serve on Sundays. We shall see.

In other Penthouse News, Rhonda Lu got a funny wake-up call this morning. Em and I were talking this morning- Em in the hall outside her room, and me standing inside my room, when Rhonda finally decided to get out of bed. Well I’m sorry- but she just looked completely not awake and totally disheveled! (Not like I’m ever like that At All… Nope) So Emily chimes a chipper "Good morning Sunshine," to her. I think we may have gotten a grumble back from Rhonda before she shut the bathroom door (remember to think happy thoughts and flush twice!) so I started serenading her with a dapper "You Are My Sunshine" outside the door. I think she was amused. Em and I were nonetheless. What a fun way to start out a Friday!

But now it’s almost lunchtime and I’m getting ready to try out this all-chicken place called Maniac’s with Ari and Angela. Go ahead. You know you’re singing the song.

"She’s a maaaaaaa-niac. Maaaaaaaa-niac on the floor. And she’s dancin’ like she’s never danced before."

I’ll let you know how it is. Till then: so long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen goodbye.

Rhonda Lu Maureen Walsh McConaughey

Hi everyone! I know it's been AGES since I (Rhonda) posted. But now, I have a moment and I feel compelled to share some excitingly fantabulous news with everyone. The love of my life has finally come to Nashville to find me. We plan to ride off into the sunset together, in an Airstream trailer. (From my 4th favorite Nashvillian, Brad "Brad About You" Schmitt of the Tennessean newspaper....)

"Wa-hoooo! Party in the campground!"

If you're traveling around town today and you think to yourself, ''Hey, that looks like Matthew McConaughey in an Airstream trailer,'' you might be right.
Yes, Nashville is a town of celebrities, but even here in star-heavy Music City USA, it's still a rare sight to see a Hollywood A-lister tooling around in a trailer.
Matthew is promoting his new movie, Sahara, which opens April 8, by traveling around the country. No, the movie has nothing to do with trailers. It's about treasure hunting in West Africa, a decidedly un-trailer-friendly region.
Matthew owns a trailer, ya see, and he's chosen to travel around the country on it to talk to local reporters and other folks to promote Sahara.
And yes, he actually stays on it. Matthew will send his driver to a hotel tonight while he sleeps in the trailer, parked somewhere in Nashville.
Then he's off to Washington, D.C., tomorrow morning to do more press and sleep in his trailer again.

Spontaneous spontaneity

Stop the presses!!

I was spontaneous this afternoon. Not even planned spontaneity, but just plain "hey, I just did something without planning." Mark this one down on the calendars. Now that I’ve built it up to be this huge thing, it’s really not that big of a deal. But my friends Kenneth and John who are friends from high school (except that I didn’t ever go to school with either of them), called around 12:30 and were in the area, and getting ready to go have lunch. Would I like to go with them, they asked. I hadn’t had lunch yet, although I did have some yummy leftovers from where Laura, my gourmet-Chef-of-a- sister, had cooked last night. "Now?" I said, and off I went! I hadn’t seen Ken since Heather’s wedding, and John since this summer at Johnny Jackson’s (roomies- he is the really good dancer, if your memories serve you well) so I decided the leftovers would wait until tomorrow. So I met the boys and another coworker of theirs at this Chinese Buffet place here in Franklin and sufficiently stuffed myself so that I won’t have to eat again for the rest of the day. We caught up on life and made plans to go to Johnny Jackson’s again soon. The amusing part of the meal, and what I considered blogworthy if you will, was when we got our fortune cookies. I was explaining to Kenneth the theory on fortune cookies that says you eat the first half, read the fortune (in bed) and then eat the second half of the cookie in order for it to come true. He had never heard this before. "Was the person who told you that Caucasian?" he asked. (Ken’s Thai) But seriously, has anyone else heard of this superstition with fortune cookies? I know I’m not flyin’ solo on this one. But here was my prophetic fortune:
"Friends long absent are coming back to you (…in bed)." Which is true since the guys called me out of the blue. Then their co-worker who ate with us had one that said something about keeping his feet on the Gound. There was a typo on his fortune!! John’s was blah about starting something new, and Kenneth’s said something about his verstility! Another typo! 2 of our 4 fortunes were mis-spelled!! What kind of crap is that? We all know what a grammar dork I am so this drove me crazy. Who lets these mistakes slide by and thinks that it’s ok- that the American people don’t care or even notice? Well this Diva noticed. My friends got broken fortunes. I want a refund from the Sam’s fortune cookie company, located in Chicago, IL- a very oriental area John quipped. But anyways. That was my spontaneous afternoon. Now get back to me on your fortune cookie superstitions. What works? What doesn’t? I want to know.

Look who's blogging from work!!!

Oh happy Day! Due to some glitch in the computer firewall or else the Gods smiling upon me, I have been granted free reign to the internet once again, if only for a short while. How did I discover this wonderful anomaly you might ask? While on my yahoo page this morning all of a sudden I realized I could see the adds... so I got curious and opened up an email from Stilacosmetics and was thrilled to see that I could view all of the pictures of their latest spring line. Then the light bulb went off and I clicked my web browser over to the DivaDomain. It was like Christmas I tell you! There was so much to do and so little time- I had no idea how long the time-warp zone would be open so I had to act fast! I quickly began to edit all those annoying blogs with the nasty little squares in them. (Trust me, it drives me crazy knowing they're there, but I didn't have the power to fix that here at the office lately.) Then I added some new links. Be a sleuth and figure out what all has changed. I was going to change my list of movies I want to see, but total sadness- I have seen None of those movies yet! And they're all ones I really want to see. So bear with me on that.

I did see Saw this weekend (I know- see-saw...really funny). But Bradley and Bradley give it two thumbs way down. (My opinion counts twice because I feel so vehemently about this film) Don't waste your time or money renting this one. It's not even that scary (even with certain people giving you hugs at unexpected moments that make you jump and scream anyways), and Wesley- I mean Cary Elwes- talked in this overdramatic voice the entire time that made his character laughable. Seriously.

But here I am just giddy with the possibility of catching up with the blogging world for however long my unknown permission has been granted. I could care less about work since I have (Trumpet fanfare inserted here) given my two weeks' notice and my last day here at the Good Ole B&J will be next Friday. And you'd better believe we're going to party like it's 1999 after rehearsal that night. This job change has been long overdue. Unfortunately I don't technically have the next place of employment lined up, but we're working on that (pun intended). When I know, you'll know. And if I have to eat Ramen noodles and spaghetti-Os for the next month until that job comes along, well we'll just cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I am loving the view.

Bobbing for Urine

I awoke this morning to hear Emily and Rhonda talking about me outside my door. This was a good thing though, because I had overslept and would not have gotten up if it weren't for them. Wonky-eyed and completely out of it, the way one usually is when one oversleeps, I stumbled into the bathroom where Rhonda is getting ready for work. (Sidenote: wonky is the word we use to describe Britney Spears' eyes. They are weird looking- check them out the next time you see a pic of her. But Laura says I have wonky eyes in the morning before I've showered and totally woken up too.) You have to know also that our toilet is a pain in the butt and doesn't usually flush correctly the first time. You have to wait a second, think happy thoughts and talk nicely to the toilet to coax it into flushing the second time. So I've flushed for the first time this morning when Rhonda leans over the counter next to me to do something, and all of a sudden, something falls into the toilet. I am still out of it at this point, having just woken up, and so I stand there with this confused look on my face, and we both peer into the toilet to see what it was that has leapt off of the counter and into the porcelain pool. Rhonda lets this cry of despair out as she realizes it's this little sample bottle of perfume that she loves. By this time Emily is at the door to see what all the commotion is, and we all debate on what to do.
"Man, I really loved that stuff," Rhonda whined.
"Well I have a bottle of it, you can have mine" Em says.
"Yeah, but that still doesn't solve our dilemma," Rhonda and I both say.
"We still have to get it out."
So I (still not fully awake despite all the excitement) give Rhonda this expectant look, like, "okay, well, get it out!"
"I'm guessing by that look you're giving me that you want me to reach in and grab it." Rhonda says.
"Well why should I have to do it? All I did was stand up and flush the toilet! You're the one who knocked it in!" I retorted.
"But it's your urine!" Rhonda countered.
I won.
Emily, the resident genius, went and got a plastic grocery bag and instructed Rhonda to cover her hand and arm with the bag and reach into the toilet bowl and grab the bottle.
Reluctantly, Rhonda does this, much to the amusement of the other roommates.
Screaming and hollering the whole time, she cries that the bottle is stuck, and
"ohmygosh, I think my hand's getting wet! I'm getting your urine on my hand!" She says quite hysterically.
Rhonda flings the wet grocery bag into the trashcan and rushes to the sink to ferociously wash her hands, still squirming and screaming while Em and I are cracking up, and Emily goes and gets another bag and proceeds to try herself. She too gets wet in the process, but this time succeeds in getting the little bottle of perfume out of the toilet and into the trash along with wet grocery bag number 2. (Speaking of number 2, we are all just lucky that it wasn't. I don't think I could have handled that.) We are all dying of laughter while we discuss the blogworthy-ness of the event, hereby dubbing it, Bobbing for Urine, and Emily and Rhonda both declare their undying friendship for life after this episode.
"We stuck our hands in your urine!" They cry.
Only a good friend would do that for you. Blogworthy indeed I think.

The Best BBQ Ever

As you all know I've been a little long-winded on here as of late. Primarily this is because I can't check other blogs or post comments anymore from work, so I use all that "extra" time to write more detailed posts instead. However, it has been brought to my attention that not all of you have nothing better to do than read my verbose ramblings (shocking, I know), so I'll spare you the details of this weekend and say that it was full of ups and downs, but it wound up being better than I could have imagined. What I would like to share with you is an afternoon of father-daughter bonding and the best barbecue ever. Yesterday's in Lexington. Every bit worth the 3 hour drive.

I had planned on Saturday morning being a relaxing day of having breakfast with the roommates + AWP (Ann Wade Parish- Emily's not-so-imaginary best friend, now that I Finally met the girl after months of hearing about her), painting my nails, packing, cleaning, Blogging. Alas, things got crazy as they usually do, and the majority of that did not happen. I rushed home after breakfast on Saturday (it was good, but it was no Chocolate Sin pancakes from PP) and got ready for my road-trip with Dad. As part of his Valentine's Day present I was going to take him to a UK basketball game at Rupp Arena. Saturday was the last home game UK had on a weekend, so it was basically our last opportunity to get to see our beloved Cats play. With both of us clad in Kentucky Blue, we set out on our 3-hour trek to Lexington. I was absolutely wired that afternoon and was singing the UK fight song every 2 or 3. It had been over a year since I had been to a game at Rupp, so I was just as excited as Dad to be going. Finally I settled down as we listened to some Ray Charles and Conway Twitty and talked about music (our favorite topic), and I pored through the latest Sephora catalogue.

The trip seemed to take forever, but we made it into the Lex-vegas in plenty of time to get parked, settle in, eat some lunch/dinner and hit the streets to find tickets for that night's ball game. We talked to a few people selling tickets but held off on buying them. We decided to go inside and kill some time and then come back out and buy tickets closer to game time. Mistake number 2. Mistake number 1 was not buying them on ebay when I had the chance, or better yet, not missing the day that current UK students could buy guest tickets and have someone purchase them for me then. I'm sure you can guess where this is going, but alas, Dad and I went inside the convention center, looked around a few shops, and sat down inside this bar called Yesterday's and had barbecue sandwiches and a few drinks. After a sufficient amount of time had been wasted, it was 2 hours till game time and we headed back outdoors to find tickets for that night's game. Horror of all horrors though, there were zero tickets to be had. This was the last Saturday home game, an SEC game against a team who had been previously ranked in the top 25, not to mention ESPN college game day was there, so everybody and their dog apparently decided that this was the game of the season to attend. We ran into countless people who were in the same boat we were in, trying to scalp tickets, but had no luck. We walked up and down the sidewalks near Rupp, had an interesting run-in with a homeless woman, and froze our tails off in the wind all for naught. It was killing me to see all the fans pouring into Rupp while we drove away. Dad was really a good sport about the whole thing and reassured me that he had nothing better to do on a Saturday and it was worth the drive on the chance that we would get tickets. Since the game was my idea in the first place though, I felt awful about making him drive all that way, only to turn around and have to listen to the game in the car. We joked around and said it was the best barbecue sandwiches we had ever had though, and worth a 3-hour drive, and paying $7 to park! At any rate, we had some good quality time together, and have a rather humorous story to tell. I have a feeling that Yesterday's barbecue will go down in Bradley family history as a story that gets told every basketball season. Who's hungry? Wanna drive to Lexington?

scalding to lukewarm in 0 to 60

Alright. I would like to share with you my gripe with hot beverages. More specifically, hot tea, but any warm liquid applies. You fix yourself a cup of hot tea (I've been drinking hot tea because it's better for you than coffee, yet I still get my wake-up caffeine), and then wait a moment for it to steep, throw away the tea bag, and carry the mug back to your desk. But you cannot yet imbibe the hot liquid. Oh no. Because you will almost certainly burn your tongue or worse, the roof of your mouth. So you sit the mug aside and do some work. Ha ha, I am only kidding of course. You check MSN for the third time that morning and see if any new headlines have popped up. Michael Jackson is now out of the hospital. Well that's just great. Duke lost again last night- 2 in a row, and this time to Virginia Tech- now that's really great, but alas, your hot tea is still too hot to drink. So you finish reading the MSN homepage, and then, okay, do some real work, when finally, you pick up your mug of warm delicious Earl Gray tea with cream and sugar, only to put the mug to your lips and grimace at the lukewarm substance. There is a small window of opportunity to drink your hot tea, and you have just missed the boat. Again. How does this continually happen?? It's either too hot or too cold but never just right. I feel like Goldilocks without the satisfaction of finding the last bowl of porridge. I think those Boston Tea Party guys knew what they were doing back in the day when they refused to drink Mr. Gray's lukewarm tea. "We shall not stand for a tea that is of unsuitable temperature to drink!" They exclaimed, as they dumped barrels of the British tea over the harbor. You'd think after a few centuries one would have figured out how to lure one's tea to the proper drinking temperature, and keep it there long enough so that one does not have to burn one's mouth, or else chug one's tea once it reaches perfection.

So here's my (resident) genius idea: I propose that we enhance the tea with a color-changing chemical. Like the hot rollers that turn from blue to white and back to blue again, letting you know when the rollers are hot enough to use, and cool enough to take out. Blue and white tea- now that would go over well in Lexington. But no, of course the tea doesn't have to be blue or white, but perhaps if some scientist discovered what temperature range is suitable for drinking a warm beverage and then they rigged the tea leaves to change colors once it reached that ideal temperature. Then all you'd have to do is glance at your tea mug every minute or two to see when it changed colors and enjoy the warm beverage at your convenience. I say it's brilliant. Tea drinkers of the world unite. We deserve to have a warm beverage to enjoy in the morning. I mean, heck, I'm giving up coffee for this. I should at least have a no-hassle replacement for it right?

what dreams may come

Sorry friends- this has been a really uninspiring week. I've been really run down by my busy days and hectic schedule so I think my body is finally screamng at me to Slow Down!!! The show opens one month from tomorrow and that is just crazy! We are in the theater for the first time tonight with the set and everything. I am having performance anxiety already though. Last night I dreamed I was doing the duet with Ricky (Fredrick) on stage and as soon as I opened my mouth to sing I realized that I didn't know the words and started to make up the Italian (yes, I really have made up Italian before- in front of an Italian audience nonetheless; not a fun experience that I wish to repeat.) (And two, this show is in English- what I was singing in my dream was the Act III duet between Susanna and the Count in Marriage of Figaro. It's always amusing to me when I hear music in my sleep.) I was sort of excited though because I can never remember my dreams.

We Bradleys are notorious for having weird dreams though. There is some sort of family connection with them too (we have ESPN I think). My dad and his sister have had the exact same dream before- (ooh, creepy!) and Laura and Dad have strange dreams all the time. The only thing significantly odd about my dreams I have found is that any time my dream takes place at home, I always dream about my old house that I lived in until I was 14. I never dream about the house in Brentwood, even though we have been there for 10 years. One of my favorite dreams though was when I was hanging out with NSYNC in my sister's bedroom- just the 6 of us- sitting on her bed and chatting it up. Laugh if you must, but I was so disappointed when I woke up and realized it was only a dream!

Now I've noticed a recent lack of comments in the blogging arena, so feel free to share a favorite dream you've had so we can turn the laughter to you and off of me for dreaming about hanging out with NSYNC.

Moguls, Moguls, everywhere

Not much to rant and rave about today. Sorry to disappoint. I am in mourning over that embarrassing loss last night by the Cats to South Carolina. I can't even discuss it. Ari and I actually turned off the TV and caught up on life instead, which turned out to be the much better option for the evening.
Ari, Angela, and I just got back from I am hereby referring to as a Triple A Lunch. We laughed to the point where I came very close to spitting water out of my mouth and/or nose and stuffed ourselves with yummy pizza. It's fun to see how many movie quotes one can work into a single lunch hour. Oh and btw Em, that pizza really hit the spot- just thought you'd like to know!
So I have been toying with the notion lately of updating The List. You know, the infamous group of words I either love to use or love to hate. My current irritation is with the word "Mogul." If you read news and entertainment stories online this word is everywhere. Mary Kate and Ashley are Teen Moguls. P-Diddy is the epitome of a Music Mogul, and as of today, Jon Stewart is apparently a TV Comedy Mogul. I swear I have seen that word in print at least once a day. It's like the word mogul has become a bandwagon vocabulary phenom and anyone who's anyone is now considered a mogul. (I have to wonder then, can I call myself a blogging mogul? The answer is an adamant No! You can't call yourself anything- that's just lame. It's the same as how you don't refer to yourself as your own nickname. Someone else has to do it. So feel free to call me your resident blogging mogul, because I'm not about to do it.) But seriously, doesn't anyone remember the days when moguls were the little hills in the woods you skied down? Start paying attention. Moguls are taking over the world.

ChocolatePalooza Recap

"I can still recall old Mister Barnslow getting out every morning and nailing a fresh load of tadpoles to the old board of his. Then he'd spin it round and round, like a wheel of fortune, and no matter where it stopped he'd yell out, "Tadpoles! Tadpoles is a winner!" We all thought he was crazy. But then we had some growing up to do."

This quote is indicative of my mood right now: slaphappy and totally exhausted (Thanks to one marathon phone conversation last night with sbj). So here I am at work this morning, making every effort to wake up and be productive. Has anyone seen the Seinfeld where George finds a way to take naps under his desk? I am soooo tempted to try that today. There is plenty of room to curl up under my desk, and no one would notice that I've gone missing. Seriously- if you don't hear from me for a while, I may be catching a few zzz's.

If I can make it to lunch I'll be ok I think. I have some yummy leftovers from last night's Valentine's Day dinner that I cooked for myself, Dad, and Mom. I know, don't faint or anything, but I actually cooked. In a kitchen. With real food and utensils. I made this awesome pasta with a vodka cream sauce that was one of Domestic Goddess, Rachel Ray's 30-Minute Meals. And for once it actually did only take me about 30 minutes to make! (Seriously, those things always take me twice as long as they say they're supposed to.) We celebrated Valentine's Day with Dad and Mom, Laura and George hurried off to their dinner date (all decked out in pink I might add. Loved the tie Jorge.) and I scarfed down my pasta (patting myself on the back every step of the way) and tried to save room for ChocolatePalooza at the Penthouse. Mom made Dad her famous banana pudding and put food coloring in it to make it pink! How great is that? If I liked bananas I'm sure it would be my favorite desert ever, but I guess we'll never know!

We gals had a grand time yesterday evening, full of chocolate goodies and over-indulgence in just about everything. (Oh- James- before I forget- Holt thinks Deon looks like Tom Brady at first glance, and the rest of us agree. I showed them that pic of you and Him from the Nashvegas weekend. If I didn't tell you this now I would forget later- so make sure you pass the message on to him!) I raided my bedroom last night and found a myriad of pink candles to decorate the apartment with, and we even had a nice centerpiece of pink roses, thanks to one James Grino. Holt brought chocolate-covered (viagra) strawberries that turned out to be the bane of Emily's evening. She had a mild allergic reaction and her lips swelled up, prompting her mother to nickname her Lips LeDoux when Em talked to her on the phone. Mary Anna brought a yummy chocolate fondue, and we also had an assortment of cookies and candy. The best part? I played bartender and concocted some yummy chocolate martinis!

After sufficiently stuffing ourselves we piled on the couch and chairs to watch the Notebook (seriously Rhonda, that makes 6 times for you! Sooo CRACY!), and then watched the Bachelorette that Emmy Sue had taped for us. Believe it or not, not one of us cried at the Notebook! We were too busy making fun of how cheesy it was, and finding random details to point out and make fun of- ie, Martha Focker's grimmace, and Noah's "aaaand soooommme Bacon." The mood can never stay serious for long when Amanda and I are together. Must have been those sexual chocolate strawberries. Anyways, hooray for the first annual Soiree of Sweets. Let's make it a monthly (or weekly!) ritual.

the A-MAZing strawberries

The Token eating picture

bartender and bartendee

ChocolatePalooza

And the giddiness carries over to Monday morning. (You KNOW I am in a good mood when I can be chipper on a Monday.) But it’s the day of love you know, and more importantly, the best excuse I have all year to wear pink! As you may be surprised to know however, I am not decked out in pink from head to toe. The ensemb’ instead includes my favorite burgundy jacket accentuated with a pink necklace and broach, and I do have Valentine’s socks on, although no one can see them under my sassy boots. I had a piece of chocolate this morning (the breakfast of champions- thanks James, for that) and I treated myself to some coffee- hey- a DIVAs gotta wake up somehow.

So what has kept me busy the past couple of days? I’m sure you are all dying to know. Well, I saw Emily for the first time in over a week Friday night when the Penthouse Pets got together for a roommate dinner. She is well on her way to recovery from that nasty allergic reaction, thank goodness. After that, Em and I went to see The Wedding Date- I know, it’s a departure from my usual pending-Oscar-winner movie-goings, but for 5 bucks, I decided it was worth a mindless 2 hours of entertainment (“Somebody buy my hoo-ha a drink”). Plus it gave Em and I a chance to hang out, which we haven’t done in a while (my fault, I know!).

So let me pause at this point to catch you up to speed on my latest soapbox (consider this a plangent, if you will.). I am sick to death of Tim McGraw’s song “Live Like You Were Dyin.” Now don’t get me wrong- I think it is a great song. It’s well written, he sings it well, it’s a great record in general. But my gosh. The single and cd came out back when Rhonda was writing on her own blog- and we all Know how long ago that’s been! Seriously, every time I have the radio on, I hear Live Like You Were Dyin- and as if it weren’t bad enough that it’s on all the country stations, now there is a crossover pop version playing on 107 as well! (And don’t even get me started on having 2 versions of the same song for crossover purposes) We discussed my irritation with this song being over-saturated on the market Friday night over dinner, and then, the icing on the cake: Em and I walk into the movie theater Friday night and I kid you not, the preview guy says, and here’s the latest from Tim McGraw, “Live Like You Were Dyin!” I can’t even escape this song in a movie theater- it’s following me everywhere! You know what? I get the point. Live each day to the fullest. Now move on. Find a new song to play- there are plenty of other great songs on that album; (Can we say, Blank Sheet of Paper?) just read Rhonda’s review that she posted on her blog. Anyways. So that was Friday.

Saturday I zipped up to Louisville (Loo-ah-vul? Looey-ville?) (car-a-mul? Care-a-mul?) to spend the day and evening with James, V, and Katie. We walked down to TGI Fridays to have lunch and watch the UK game. Of course U of L just Had to be playing at the same time. Actually, the first place we walked into, we asked the hostess about turning one of the tvs to the UK game which came on in 10 minutes, and she kind of laughed and said, not in here. “We can go somewhere else,” I said jokingly, but not really kidding. So the hostess turns around, looks at the tv, and says, “well, it’s only in the first quarter!” (Oh REALLY? Quarters is it? That’s the first thing I said to James when we walked out! Ari, I know you appreciate the humor in that.) So we settled on Friday’s, since they were accommodating enough to turn one of their tvs to the UK game, but unfortunately we were not granted control over the volume, so we had to watch the game in silence, listening instead to the stupid U of L game. I just don’t get that. We are an hour away from the school with one of the longest-standing basketball powerhouses, and you’re telling me everyone in this town is still stuck on Pitino Ball?? I admit I was slightly annoyed having to watch the game with no sound- we all were-so during halftime we walked back to the hotel to watch the rest of the game, and then got ready for dinner that night. We met up with 2 other couples (college friends of James and V who live in Louisville) and their adorable children, we all had a grand time at the Old Spaghetti Factory. I had forgotten how good that place is- and can we just Talk about the Spumoni? Oh my goodness. I was stuffed and still ate all of mine, plus half of James’! (Gotta love that dessert pocket!) After dinner, we said goodbye to the Louisville residents, and headed down to 4th Street Live. I have to admit I’m slightly jealous that the cool city of Nashville doesn’t have something like this. It’s an entire city block with all these different bars and restaurants, and at night they close that section of 4th street to traffic, so it’s like one big block party. And the bars and restaurants are all very unique- an upscale pool hall, an upscale bowling alley, a piano bar, a Hard Rock café, a beach themed place, the token country bar (here’s where Nashville kicks their butt) (and btw Rhonda, that token “token” was for you!) plus too many others to name. Deon met up with us, along with his sister and her boyfriend, so we all got to hang out together. Louisville is surprisingly a fun little town. I recommend it for a night out with friends since there is something for everyone.

Of course it was a late night, and Amanda had to get on the road to get back for “Pirates” on Sunday, so that was not much fun. I said bye to James and had to drive straight back to my rehearsal where I got to meet our new Fredrick (um yeah- about that… our director fired the lead guy last week, and found a replacement at Belmont- he’s a 3rd year voice student, and is actually really good. No worries whatsoever about him hitting on me though, if you know what I mean. What can I say? He’s a tenor! I’m used to it.) I had dinner with the fam (because we all know the only reason I go over there is to eat anymore. Note the tone of sarcasm in that last statement) and then went back to the apartment and found Brad and Rhonda watching the Grammies so I was sucked in to the show as well. I will let one of the other authors write their Grammy review if they wish, but I will say this: J-Lo and Marc Anthony’s Telemundo Soap Opera peformance was laughable at best. What in the heck were they doing? If you missed it, your ears are thanking you, but you really did miss out on a good laugh. Ok- I lied. 2 things: I am tired of the post-humus Grammies awarded as well. It’s such a cop out and a slap in the face I think. It’s like, “hey, you weren’t recognized for your talent when you were alive, so now that you’re no longer with us, we feel bad and here, let us give you this Grammy to make up for snubbing you in the past. Hope that smoothes things over with your family and honors the legacy you left behind.” But was that really the album of the year? When people look back at 2004 they will say, yes, Ray Charles- now that album sure was flying off the shelves. I don’t think so Juanita.

But it’s Valentine’s Day and love is in the air. So go love others today. Tell em Bob Borders sent ‘ya.

Due to a technical glitch, this wasn’t able to be posted on Friday as planned (you just can’t find good hired help these days!) (Love you, Ari- Nuzzel!). So sorry for the belated blog, but here it is: after much anticipation, Looking at the world through rose colored glasses:

So I know I said yesterday how much I dislike the month of February… but there is one teeny, tiny exception: Valentine’s Day. Now I’m not one of those girls who a) blows the Hallmark holiday out of proportion and expects great things from the guy she’s with (this could be because I haven’t had a special someone for Valentine’s day since I was a senior in high school…hmm…) or b) gets all depressed because she is single and has no one to buy gooshy cards for. (sidestory: as some of you know, my parents were middle-school sweethearts, and my dad was my mom’s first kiss. The word “gooshy” comes from how mom described the aforementioned first kiss to her friend Shelly. It was gooshy, she said. Unfortunately for dad, I think that comment got back to him!)

Last year, we had an awesome girls’ night out and had a dinner party over at Katie’s. We got all dressed up, had a delectable meal complete with chocolate covered strawberries for desert, and then sipped chocolate martinis down at Chitown (which is no longer in existence, may it rest in peace). This year Valentine’s day (or Single Awareness Day, depending on who you talk to- and yes, the initials spell SAD- how great is that?) falls on a Monday. What the heck are you supposed to do on a Monday night? We Penthouse Pets have yet to discuss that as of yet. I don’t have to be at rehearsal that night, so I am declaring right now that we do something girly and fun! (Sorry guys- go have your own macho guys’ night and play poker or something.)

Do I need to state the obvious and tell all of you why Valentine’s day Really makes me happy? There is pink EVERYWHERE! I walk into stores and just get a warm fuzzy feeling. It’s almost overwhelming. I plan on making a trip to Target’ on Tuesday to see if I can’t get some marked-down pink items to add to my possession. Last year I got these great pink candles that of course are out in my room year-round. Who needs a holiday to decorate in pink I ask you? So if any of you happen to be in the shops this week or next and spot anything pink that might be of interest to me, let me know. Actually- that happens all the time to me anyways. Friends will come up and tell me about the pink sweater they bought, or a coat or something- knowing that I would fall in love with it. Heck, Ari’s mom calls her from Denver all the time to tell her about something pink she has seen that she knows “Bradley will love.” This makes me feel loved because I know you all are thinking about me when I’m not around (those are such sad times for you, I know). As Gerry House said on the radio this morning: I am a satellite dish for love! I don’t know why I found that statement so amusing, but maybe it has made you smile too. Or not, and you think, Gosh Amanda, don’t you do anything at your job besides write pointless diatribes? (I can’t hear the word “Gosh” any more without thinking of Napoleon Dynamite! Oh- and last night at rehearsal we were doing choreography and the guys were supposed to cross their arms over their chest. The kid next to me quipped that they should do it “Uncle Rico style.” I can tell this kid and I will be fast friends!) The answer to that question is a hardy, you bet your sweet a$$ I do! Happy Friday.

Looking at the World Through Rose Colored Glasses

So I know I said yesterday how much I dislike the month of February… but there is one teeny, tiny exception: Valentine’s Day. Now I’m not one of those girls who a) blows the Hallmark holiday out of proportion and expects great things from the guy she’s with (this could be because I haven’t had a special someone for Valentine’s day since I was a senior in high school…hmm…) or b) gets all depressed because she is single and has no one to buy gooshy cards for. (sidestory: as some of you know, my parents were middle-school sweethearts, and my dad was my mom’s first kiss. The word “gooshy” comes from how mom described the aforementioned first kiss to her friend Shelly. It was gooshy, she said. Unfortunately for dad, I think that comment got back to him!)

Last year, we had an awesome girls’ night out and had a dinner party over at Katie’s. We got all dressed up, had a delectable meal complete with chocolate covered strawberries for desert, and then sipped chocolate martinis down at Chitown (which is no longer in existence, may it rest in peace). This year Valentine’s day (or Single Awareness Day, depending on who you talk to- and yes, the initials spell SAD- how great is that?) falls on a Monday. What the heck are you supposed to do on a Monday night? We Penthouse Pets have yet to discuss that as of yet. I don’t have to be at rehearsal that night, so I am declaring right now that we do something girly and fun! (Sorry guys- go have your own macho guys’ night and play poker or something.)

Do I need to state the obvious and tell all of you why Valentine’s day Really makes me happy? There is pink EVERYWHERE! I walk into stores and just get a warm fuzzy feeling. It’s almost overwhelming. I plan on making a trip to Target’ on Tuesday to see if I can’t get some marked-down pink items to add to my possession. Last year I got these great pink candles that of course are out in my room year-round. Who needs a holiday to decorate in pink I ask you? So if any of you happen to be in the shops this week or next and spot anything pink that might be of interest to me, let me know. Actually- that happens all the time to me anyways. Friends will come up and tell me about the pink sweater they bought, or a coat or something- knowing that I would fall in love with it. Heck, Ari’s mom calls her from Denver all the time to tell her about something pink she has seen that she knows “Bradley will love.” This makes me feel loved because I know you all are thinking about me when I’m not around (those are such sad times for you, I know). As Gerry House said on the radio this morning: I am a satellite dish for love! I don’t know why I found that statement so amusing, but maybe it has made you smile too. Or not, and you think, Gosh Amanda, don’t you do anything at your job besides write pointless diatribes? (I can’t hear the word “Gosh” any more without thinking of Napoleon Dynamite! Oh- and last night at rehearsal we were doing choreography and the guys were supposed to cross their arms over their chest. The kid next to me quipped that they should do it “Uncle Rico style.” I can tell this kid and I will be fast friends!) The answer to that question is a hardy, you bet your sweet a$$ I do! Happy Friday.

ariana saves the day!!!

ok, because bradley is cursing her firewall into the depths of hades, i'm going to attempt the feat of putting a link onto this blog. if it doesn't work, i'm sorry. i hope you'll all remember me for my witty (and sometimes not so witty) comments. if it does work, bradley has to buy me a diet coke...with lime.
this is the link regarding the comm 252 class bradley talked about in today's blog. here goes kids....

http://www.uky.edu/CommInfoStudies/COM/teaching/courses/com252/assessments/johari.html

cut and paste if you must. i'm new to this blog world. good luck.
~ari

deep thoughts by a.l. bradley

I've been in a thoughtful mood these past 2 days- just reflecting on my own life and personality and how that fits in with others. Jill and I talked once about how I am am excellent listener, and can always point the conversation towards the other person. This usually has to do with my hatred for silence in conversations (hence my trademark sighs) and my natural ability to be a facilitator as James calls it. I?m good at asking questions and keeping the conversation going, and am usually genuinely interested in whatever the other person has to say. I will say that I do suffer from short-term memory loss though, so I sometimes forget entire conversations that I?ve had. You might have to refresh my memory about a story you told me- that one time, in band camp?. Wait a minute- what was I talking about? See? Short term memory problems! Anyways, in college I took COM 252 (interpersonal communications) for a requirement. It was a great class, and one of the best things I took from that class was doing an exercise called the Johari Window. You took this questionnaire of 20 questions, and marked point values 0-5 on how you would respond to each situation. Then afterwards you plotted your answers on a graph that was divided into 4 quadrants. The 4 quadrants (Open, Blind, Hidden, and Unknown) were aspects of how well you knew yourself, and how well you allowed others to know you. Obviously, the more Open you are, the less Unknown there is about yourself, and having a large Hidden quadrant means that there isn?t a large Blind section, meaning you know yourself well, but choose not to let others know you. I?ve included a link to this assessment in case you?re bored and intrigued.

The results of this questionnaire always bothered me, and I continue to come back to those when going through these periods of self-discovery that I go through from time to time. Call it a quarter-life crisis, the winter blahs, or being bored to tears at work, but life has got me thinking. Or the weather. Seriously. (Oh REALLY??) Can we get a little sunshine here? One or two days in a row would be great. If April is the cruelest month, then February is definitely the most dreary month of all I think. I?m sure T.S. Eliot would agree with me. What is it with writers and going by their initials anyways? T.S. Eliot? e.e. cummings? Could I declare myself a great writer and become a.l. bradley? a.l. bradley, the great 21st century blogger? It has a nice ring to it, don?t you think?

Anyways- Amanda had a hot date with Brad and Ron last night- that?s right- 2 guys at the same time. (Is that what you?d do with a million dollars, Holt?) (Office Space anyone?) Rhonda hung out with Brad and Holt, and I had some good conversations with Ron and Holt. (The Shoes? OH REALLY?) Thanks for the ice cream Amanda- it was delish, and was a much-needed comfort food! Next on the agenda: The Amandas take on Nashvegas, and Rhonda limits herself to one male companion for a Friday night out. Get excited. The weekend is near.

So I know this is of little interest to many of you, but I am still reeling from that win last night over Florida. While I was trapped in rehearsal Hades last night, my Cats decided they weren't going to play any defense. However, following the usual Kentucky suit, they made a huge comeback in the second half. Is it a coincidence that as soon as I started listening to the game in the car on my way home Kentucky started turning the game around? (Hey- that's Ja-wincidence with a C) So here we have a visual example of how much Kentucky students loathe Matt Walsh. I can't stand the kid either (from a purely athletic standpoint) so I found this picture in the KY Kernel HA.larious. Next we have former UK player and current Detroit Pistons star Tayshaun Prince. At every home game during one of the timeouts, the cheerleaders come out onto the floor and spell out Kentucky with the letter signs, and they always have a former player or UK celeb come out at the end and be the "Y." Wish I could have seen Tayshaun in person again, but I guess I'll have to settle for the top 10 highlights in the morning... which speaking of, I have a bone to pick with espn. There was no Kentucky play selected for the day's top 10, and if I am not mistaken, Illinois had 2. The Big 10 is terrible! Of course they are going to make big plays against crappy teams! Why aren't we getting any love from the sportscenter folks? (Can I get an Amen?) If I were Rondo, I would be a little peeved. As you can see from the picture where he is flying over Florida players left and right and scoring on them (notice the infamous Matt Walsh is one of them), this freshman star made several impressive plays last night. And finally, I just had to throw in a shot of fav, Kelenna Azubuike, who also happened to be our leading scorer last night. We are still undefeated in the SEC. This concludes our Wildcat montage for the day.

Buike

rhonda's future hubby

Cats pics

UK 69- FL 66

I am pathetic

(I can hear our receptionist in the lobby and the way she is answering the phone is exactly like the lady in "Office Space" and it's making me laugh. Bless her heart, she's probably never seen that movie.)

I know what you all are saying. "Rhonda Lu, you are not pathetic. You are high-quality ab fab! Why are you being so hard on yourself?" Because a couple hours ago I watched the trailer for "The Notebook" online and I CRIED! I dadgum cried at the TRAILER! It's all over for me tonight - I will probably hyperventilate and need CPR. But it will be worth it.

Amanda said that I'd share my idea about combining the Penthouse Pets with the Bachelorette. Last night during the "Why don't you nominate that special someone to be the next Bachelor / Bachelotette?" part of the show, I joked that us Pets need to do a triple Bachelorette show. I said that we'd call it "The Bachelor-Pets" (or "The Bachelorpettes" if you prefer - I really wasn't thinking of spelling when I blurted it out.) I sure am glad AJ found it funny, because I still don't. But that's what I'm here for roomie - to make you laugh and enjoy life to the fullest. I missed you and I'm glad you are home (sorry James)!!!

Happy Obese Day-After-Monday!

Is it a cruel joke that Valentine’s Day falls in the middle of Lent this year? Anyone who gives up chocolate is up a creek come next Monday. Speaking of chocolate- has anyone else seen the movie "Chocolat"? It’s a wonderful film- and takes place in France, so Emmy Sue, you would probably love it. And Ari, Johnny Depp is in it, so I know you’re a fan. And Rhonda, you love chocolate, so this film is for you! It was nominated for several Academies, including Best Picture, although it was eventually beat out by "Gladiator." Darn that Russell Crowe. Anyways- make sure you have a supply of chocolate with you when you watch the movie because you will crave it like no other afterwards! I speak from experience.

Back to Mardi Gras though, I think we gals are celebrating it in a non-traditional sort of way this year: a sob-fest! Yes, that’s right, "The Notebook" comes out on DVD today. Anyone that watches this movie and doesn’t shed a tear has no heart. It’s seriously one of the most gut-wrenching movies I’ve ever seen- right up there with "Life is Beautiful" and "Legends of the Fall." Rhonda and I have a bet going to see who’ll go through the most Kleenex while watching this movie again. I’m curious to see if we’ll cry more or less the second time around. I know you guys out there are wondering why we girls put ourselves through that. Why in the world would we want to make ourselves cry? I can’t explain it, other then sometimes you just need to have a good cry to make you feel better. "The Notebook" is a wonderful love story though, and so of course the romantics at heart can truly appreciate the whole “love-conquers-all theme,” even though this story is So Hollywood that’s it’s not even funny. (funny ha ha that is)

If basketball is more your style of celebration tonight, you can watch the #5 ranked Kentucky Wildcats take on the Florida Gators at home. It should be an intense game as Florida just beat a ranked Alabama team last week, and the student crowd hates Florida player Matt Walsh. If you listen closely you will probably hear a number of entertaining jeers and boos directed towards him. It got so bad one year that our athletics director felt the need to write Walsh a letter of apology based on the way the students treated him during the game. (What a baby, huh?)

Well, work is calling my name, so I guess this is all for now. I’ll let Rhonda Lu share her “resident genius” idea about combining the Penthouse Pets with the Bachelorette. Oh it’s brilliant. You’re gonna want to get in on the ground floor on this one. Also, one quick shout-out to Emmy Sue who has been laid up for a few days with some crazy allergic reaction. Em, we miss you at the apt, and hope that you feel better soon. I’m sure Momma Borders is taking good care of you. We’ll see you tonight at the sobfest.