“All I want for Christmas is a suuugar daddddddy”

Here are two personal ads that I’m thinking about placing in the local paper. The first being mine, and the second one being my mamas.

Mine: “Chubby girl with BIG (a/k/a sometimes crabby, sometimes mean, sometimes sarcastic) personality seeking a Sugar Daddy. You must be rich enough that I can be a stay-at-home housewife…no. Stay-at-home mom…ummm…NO. Stay-at-home person. I love to travel, but if you’ve recently had heart surgery or a hip replacement, I’d be willing to travel alone and take pictures so that you can see the wonderful sights you are missing. Vera Bradley, Dooney and Bourke, and Coach are the ways to my heart…preferably full of cash. Looks and health not as important as a hefty bank account. If you’re wanting some spice or drama in your life, I’m the girl for you! XOXO.”

Mamas: “Seeking Sugar Daddy as a Christmas gift for my wonderful daughter (she may have lied here). She’s sppppeeeecial. Seeking higher education… not for herself, but in a man.”

Ok, what brought on all this craziness, you ask?? My mama was singing “All I want for Christmas is a sugar daddy for Aleta” tonight. Yes, that is why I love her so.

Just a few short days ago, I went all Feminist-Aleta and was griping about all the stupid girls I know. I’m sorry, but sometimes I look at girls and think “My Gosh, can you get any dumber??” Point being that if you quit your job and become completely dependent on your “man” at the time, you’re leaving yourself open for becoming a “displaced wife/mother/person” in the long run. He might decide he doesn’t want you and could kick you out on the curb. My advice to girls these days is “HAVE A BACKUP PLAN!” Do I want to go BACK to school? Not really. In fact, (though they probably couldn’t stand it) I could probably live out my days at the Journal. But, I feel like if I do (ever) have a family, I would want to help support them. But above that, I want to be able to support myself. I just think that there are some girls that lack ambition all together. –That being said, I have a great respect for housewives and stay-at-home moms…they have a job that I don’t know that I could handle. I just wish girls these days would get their heads out of the clouds and have some goals.

However, bills don’t pay themselves. And Lord help, Aleta needs some mad money. So, if ever prince charming ties his horse up in front of the journal and waltzes in with several bags full of money , I’d be on that like white on rice. :) I wouldn’t mind being a “kept” woman and nobody better say a word about it!! Hehehe…

My fears

So, to start this post out, I’m going to say that I am stressed. Stressed, Anxiety-ridden, near hives, and near panic attack are all terms that could be used here. Why, you ask? Because I am going to start school again. I got my “FSU Card” in the mail on Saturday and that is what has me freaking out. It all sounded good in theory, but now I’m beginning to freak out a bit and it’s just not good. This has led me to realize some of my fears. (Some school-related and some not).

1. Fear of Commitment. This is a biggie. First off, I have signed on to spend the next year and a half (hopefully that’s all it will take) in school. This isn’t a long time in the whole scheme of things…but I still feel like I’m signing my life (until May 2012) away. Not only that, but now I’m going to have to designate a good chunk of my income to student loans (which, thankfully, I’ve never had to do before). This may mean no vacations, no frivolous purchases for myself, and (enter scary music and a scream here) …a budget. Bleh. This is a big thing for me and I’m a little scared.

2. Fear of failure. I did really well at both LCCC and Saint Leo. In fact, I became a bit of a perfectionist when it came to class work and grades. In high school, I would never ask questions because I might’ve appeared dumb. Plus, high school was more of a social event for me; I got decent grades, but never really had to work for them. In college, that was a different story. Yes, the term “grade grubber” comes to mind. It is fair to say that I drove my teachers nuts in order to find out/figure out what I needed to make the best grades possible…and I did. I worked my keester off to maintain a good gpa. Now, I’m going to be taking classes that don’t directly relate to what my Bachelor’s degree is in. What if I don’t do so hot?

3. (unrelated to school) Fear of closeness. I’ve realized recently that I have an issue with this. I tend to push people away when they get too close. Actually, it’s a big flaw of mine. This is weird, but I hate for people to know everything about me. As I was telling a friend last night, I worry that I’m going to wind up alone, like some person on the show Hoarders, in a room filled with pillowcase dresses and cheesecake bars (my new weakness). If I post all my projects from the past few weekends, you’ll understand the latter.

Yes, I’m a completely screwed up individual :) I realize this now. Lol.

I hope that you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend…and if you went Black Friday shopping, I hope that you actually got what you wanted if you had to stand in line (otherwise, it’s just not fun).

Tomorrow I intend on posting my recent projects, and my black Friday finds. All I can say, girls, is that Aleta is plum tuckered out after this past weekend.

The grandbaby craze has hit the Sheffield home…

Last night, my mama was watching America’s Funniest Home Videos (which we love at our house). I walked out of the room for a minute, when I walked back in, mama goes “They were just showing ways people told their parents that they were going to be grandparents. I’ve never seen so much screaming and carryin’ on. But I guess I’d probably do the same…If I ever GOT a grandbaby.”

Hint taken. I said jokingly, “Well, I guess I’ll just work on gettin’ knocked up.” (Again, I said this JOKINGLY.)…

She didn’t dispute it.

I texted KW and told her. She said “Tell her that she’ll have to take on more of a role than just ‘Grandma’ if you’re having to raise the baby alone.”

I told her this.

She still didn’t dispute it.

Now, I’d like to think that it was just because she had just gotten herself into a heated game of solitaire…but I’m beginning to wonder.

It’s official, my mama wants a grandbaby…and soon. Lol. Anyone want to loan her a baby for the day? I’m not planning on becoming a mom anytime soon.

How to flirt while at work...

This has been a question plaguing me lately. I mean, really, how do you do it? Now, to give you a little bit of a back story… I’ve spent the last few months fluctuating from feeling like I was going crazy to that feeling you have when you slam your hand in a car door. Don’t ask (said rolling my eyes). But lately, I think that my blood is running hot again. Lol. As bad as it might sound, I find this to be a GOOD thing. Darlin’, anything is better than despair in my book. So, a decent-looking guy came in the office the other day and I thought “hmmmm….” But because I most often work with guys towards the end of the week, how does one go about flirting with a customer? Let’s be honest here, I feel like it would be very obvious to even try to flirt here. First off, Wednesday through Friday, in the office, you can typically hear a pin drop. Secondly, whether it be because I’m not a morning person, not a good customer service person, or what have you…I typically play the roll of angry secretary #1 here at the office. So, adding a little spring to my step, or even smiling/being nice to the customers might be out of character for me. What, oh, what is a girl to do?

Next Question, as mentioned on my facebook, I completely understand a man not wearing a wedding ring b/c he might lose his finger on equipment. But when they don’t wear one, it is VERY HARD for single girls to know whether they’re married or not w/o asking or asking around.

Any suggestions?

God, grant my doctor the wisdom to up my medicine and refill my prescription

This hasn’t JUST started happening…I have felt for a while that sometimes I find myself in situations befitting the Twilight Zone series. Tonight was one of those nights…

My mom and I had been invited to attend a little show tonight at the Country Club. There were a few vendors there and it would give us some ideas for Christmas…so we decided to go. We got there and had fun chit-chatting with Katie, Mrs. Char, and Mrs. Tracey. After discussing Pampered Chef with Katie, my mama honed in on the Stampin’ Up table (of course!). She was busy making a lady bug candy bag, while I looked through Mrs. Char’s Christmas cards. I made the comment “See, Mama, I should just pay Mrs. Char to make my Christmas cards for me.” Mrs. Char laughed and I explained that I had gotten Mama to make my cards last year, because the year before, when I had made them myself, I heard some comments from Mama. Comments like: “Oooh, Aleta, I wouldn’t have used those colors together.” “Aleta, I would’ve done those differently.” What can I say, I don’t have the eye and it is SO hard to live up to the awesomely creative crafter that IS my mama. So, we laugh about it now. I just say “I can’t do anything to please her when it comes to making cards,” and laugh it off. It is a joke between us. Now, I told you that to tell you this…

After making my comment about having Mrs. Char make my cards because my mama hassles me, I had this very strange lady approach me. I hope to goodness she never reads this blog, and I hope I don’t offend anyone that may know her, but by George I think she must’ve smoked quite a bit of pot in her day. (know this—this was a very one-sided conversation, seeing as how I couldn’t get a word in edgewise; half the time I didn’t know what to say, and it was hard to say anything when she started laughing like Fran the Nanny…I just stood in amazement).

She says to me, “Honey, I had the same type relationship with my mama. She was never satisfied with what I did. Heck, even when I was little, she would stop me in my sewing projects and say ‘just let me do it, you’re going too slow.’ Here’s what I think, you’re a cold color person, aren’t you? (I’m baffled at what she’s even talking about) You like bluish reds, right? (I guess???) I bet your mother is a warm colored person; she likes orangish-reds. (Ok, and the point is??) That is why you clash. I used to do color analysis on people. I just know these things. (Ahhh….so you’re a fruit loop). –Might I add here that I have a wonderful relationship with my mama—“That is why y’all don’t get along.” Haaaaaaaaaaaaa (nasaly as Fran). “See, at 49, I told my mama ‘The reason we never got along is because you always wanted a perfect child. How could you make a perfect child? You and dad were stubborn people. You couldn’t have a PERFECT child. But see, she’s always favored my middle sister. Hello! They didn’t hold her to the same standards they held me to. And that is why we always clashed. Once she realized that that was what her problem was, she really didn’t have much time to work on it, though. She died a short time after that.” (WTH?) –And I will add here that I have no idea in H how this conversation steered in this direction—

“I used to be not only a one-ton Sue. But a two-ton Sue. I’ve always had a weight issue (should I begin to get offended here??...yes, I think so). Here’s where the issue with my weight happened at… My family used to own a grocery store. And every Sunday, we would go over to my Grandma’s for lunch. She was one of those old-time cooks. She would make not only one meat, but she would make like chicken, pork, AND beef. And she would get offended when you didn’t try a little of everything. I would go ‘ugggggghhhh, I’m stuffed, Grandma.’ Literally, we would be SOOO full and she would say ‘I don’t know why y’all think you have a problem with weight.’” HAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“Now I really miss them though. I would take them back with all their problems if I could.”

By the time the conversation had come to a close, my eyes were literally bugging out of my head.

I swear, as soon as she latched onto someone else, I decided to run. I did feel sorry for the lady who’d just earned herself a parasite, but hey, I had to save myself, right?

What. The. Heck??????? Again I say, I am a nut-magnet! And why, oh why, do people think I care? Is my psychology degree written somewhere on me, only visible to crazy people? I just don’t understand!!!

Grover and the Darlings

I posted this as FB post earlier, and Crystal insisted on a blog post. I’m happy to oblige.

Last night, I was sitting at my computer, minding my own business, when my mama comes up and sits down next to me. She has a Grover the Great book (Grover…as in the Sesame Street blue, fuzzy monster). She starts reading it to me. ???? The best part of this is that it had a finger puppet Grover which she had to act out with. She read a few pages and I just looked at her like “WTH???” She’s like “I just thought it was cute.”…Either she is (not-so) subtly telling me that she desperately wants grandkids …or she’s going nuts. I’m going with the latter. First Shawty, now Grover the Great?? Any suggestions on any good “homes” to put her in?? hehehe…just kidding. Where would I get my blog material?

I have been meaning to post about this, but honestly, I kept forgetting. A few weeks ago we went to see Jake Krack and his band play. It was my very first Fiddlin’ Concert y’all. Not only was it a Fiddlin’ Concert…it was the Florida Fiddler’s Association Convention. KW and I decided to step outside the box a little and get some “culture.” …Ok, yes, there was a cute guy involved, too.

As always, any trip with KW winds up being an adventure. We had begun planning for this “event” a couple of weeks in advance. I wondered…what does one wear to a Fiddlin’ concert?? I settled with a plaid shirt and jeans. :) Once we got there, we had a great debate in my car as to whether or not we would actually go in. I imagined 50 old people staring us down as we walked in. We determined that if that were the situation, I would SO say that I was with the paper…which seemed like a pretty good excuse to be there…right?? Well, we were the youngest ones there at first, but that might not have been why they were looking at us. I tripped going up the stairs, y’all. That first step was mighty tricky. We got inside, and our fears became reality when we realized that, other than grandchildren (who did not look so happy to be there, btw), we were two of the maybe four young people there.

We took our seats while the band was warming up. People were chatting and shuffling about. Kw leaned in to say “I just want to ask him if he’s single.” Yeah, the instant she started saying that, the room got quiet. Lord, help.

The situation got funnier and funnier as the night went on. KW had the unibomber sitting close to her and he kept getting up and walking to the back every few minutes. A lady in front of me somehow whipped out an ice pack during the middle of the concert to ice down her hand. And the guy sitting beside her had slumped down sideways and looked as if he might’ve been dead. I kind of wanted to poke him. I got a case of the giggles during the concert. It was one of those times where you nearly suffocate trying to calm yourself down. I hoped they didn’t think I was laughing at them, because the band did an excellent job. In fact, for some reason, they reminded me of the Darlings off of Andy Griffith. The music was great, and I must say, I’ve never seen such fast fiddlin’, but because I have a very untrained ear, a lot of the songs sounded the same. Towards the end, we were entertained by some “flat-footing” (a type of dancing that is popular where they are from). All I can say to that is “Wow.”

Later, we went to tell the band that they had done an excellent job. We talked to the banjo player for a minute. He asked if we were returning the following night to go to the square dance. Though the offer was very sweet, we both had to decline. See, if they were the ones playing for the square dance…we would’ve had to dance with some 70 year olds.

:) Needless to say…A good time was had by all.