Modnar is Random

No, really, it is. As is this post.

I didn't really have anything in particular that I wanted to talk about. So, I've decided that I'm going to compile a modnar list of things that've been on my mind. Besides, I'm better with lists.

- Case in point: I created a word document (complete with headings and bullets- my mother would be proud) listing all of the coupons I had for the month of July. Not only do I need a coupon for Act mouthwash, I need a life. And a boyfriend. And to get laid. But, that's another post.

- I fear that my future children will not know what a pencil is. I fear that they will not know what a newspaper, a book, nor a cd/tape player looks like. I abhor technology in so many ways. It's impersonal and cold. At work, I will actually call people, and hold for five minutes, instead of sending an e-mail because I want a connection with them. BUT- if you even think about getting rid of my dual monitors, I will break your fingers and spit in your face. Capiche?

- I love people watching. I don't make up stories for the people like Tina Fey and Steve Carell did in Date Night. I do, however, enjoy the occasional giggle when I spot someone picking their nose, tripping over their own two feet, or spilling their venti, non-fat, vanilla latte all over themselves. It's truly the best entertainment.

- So, how about that oil spill? Seriously. It's bad. Like, really, really bad. However, it's not bad when you work in the environmental testing field. Well, it's still bad but, sad to say, it's good for business. And, I sound like a complete asshole.

- Chris, my ex, made fun of me because I loved making mixed cds. "Why don't you just get an iPod?" So, when I ask for a mixed cd for my 21st, guess what I got?! A shiny, new, blue iPod. It's whatever. He got marriage counseling, I got an iPod. I win.

- Isn't it horrible when you find out what someone looks like, or how old they really are, after only hearing their voice? Corporate is located in Minnesota. Most of the clients I speak with are not based in North Carolina. So, I only talk to them via phone (because, remember, I'd rather spend ten minutes getting a 'yes,' than to shoot a two second e-mail). Well, I recently learned that one of the girls that I consistently bug up at Corporate, isn't 25. She sounds 25 and, in my mind, looks 25. But, alas, she is not. She is in her 40s. Also, I listen to 107.9 The Link throughout the work day and learned, not too long ago, that Ramona is black. I'm all for being politically correct 'n shit but, she sounded white. It's okay. I can say that. My neighbor is black.

- My pants and shirts are beginning to get a little snug. And, by a little, I mean a lot. Fatgirl has gotten fatter. Bye, bye size 8s :( Hello stretch pants.

- You'd be surprised at how many people can't spell my last name. I mean, c'mon people. It's not that friggin' hard. On the upside, though, I have several great alias': Amanda Rhodes, Amanda Roads, and Amanda Rofe. Yup. That's me.

- The people next door are sketchy. Among the other things my landlord told me, I wish he would've mentioned their sketchy-ness. Seriously. She is probably poisoning his food as he mixes her nightly Corona with rohypnol. They're not the worst. The people two doors down? Have adopted a chicken. Mr. Chicken wandered up two days after we moved in. He disappeared. Then, the other day I saw one of the children trying to put a leash on him. I've never felt more sorry for a chicken. They also have a redneck slip-n-slide. If you are unfamiliar with this type of slip-n-slide, you are lucky. A redneck s-n-s consists of two blue tarps, some twine and duct tape, and the sprinkler watering the garden. Git-R-Done. Old man river isn't too bad. He mows the grass and lets us use his trash can if ours fills up. I am, however, waiting for him to say, "You got a purty mouth."

Somebody has to say it...

I'm not one to keep quiet. Ever. My mama taught me at a very young age to voice my opinion. You can blame her. I have, however, become a bit more tactful and graceful in my approach...most of the time.

-Dear Bradley Cooper, you broke our hearts in Valentine's Day. It was not funny nor appreciated. Don't do it again. Sincerely, straight women all over the world.

-If you are a grown adult, you should not be allowed to wear silly bands UNLESS, a small child gave you one. If you bought silly bands for yourself, you should promptly return to grade school. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Do, however, try to collect your dignity and self respect on the way.

-To the jerk off tailgating me down I-85: if you're going to ride my ass, atleast scream my name.

-Why do people automatically assume, if something's missing, that it was the cleaning lady? Listen, they don't want your crap. After cleaning up your filth all day, the last thing they want to do is take something to remind them of you later.

-While it may not be socially acceptable, I will high-five you for smacking the shit out of your 18+ year old son/daughter when he/she disrespects you in public. Please and thank you.

-Speaking of socially acceptable, getting drunk and flirting/humping the twenty-somethings at the pool while your twelve year old child watches, is generally frowned upon. Just sayin'.

One runny nose and two sticky hands.

Let me begin this post by saying, I love, LOVE, being an aunt. More importantly, I love my nephew, Andrew. He's not my nephew by any relation. He's my best friend's little boy. And one of my new roommates.

He is such a happy, well-behaved boy (I credit this to both of his parents, both sets of grandparents, and, of course, me). He loves playing with his toys, "air plane" rides, being tickled, peek-a-boo, screaming into my oscillating fan, sliding all over mommy's bed, swimming, people watching, bath time, and any meal. His smile and little giggle can erase a bad day at work and financial worries.

It is very rare that I will actually take care of Andrew (I changed my first poopy diaper about two weeks ago). Generally, when I get home, I make dinner as Genna prepares Andrew's food. We all eat at the table; then, Genna gives Andrew his bath as I clean up from dinner and wash the dishes. He gets his pre-bed bottle and we play a little bit. Shortly thereafter, it's bedtime. I get "fun time" with Andrew and virtually no responsibility (other than making him smile and laugh).

This morning was my first time taking care of him (well, I watched him when he was wee little and couldn't get into things). We both woke up at 6:30 and I finally got him back to bed at 7 (did I mention I didn't go to bed until 1:30?!?!). I washed dishes, folded laundry, started another load, picked up, and enjoyed my morning coffee until 9 when I woke him up to get ready for church. After feeding him his breakfast (cinnamon raisins and pears), he had his bath (I let him play in the tub a bit longer than Mommy does, 'cause I'm a good aunt). We got dressed, which wasn't as hard as getting his diaper on, and played in the living room for a bit. Then we walked around outside until Aunt Nicole came to get him for the 11 o'clock service and lunch with her family.

In the small amount of time I was with him, I quickly realized that being a single parent is extremely difficult. I also realized that you find strength you didn't know you had to take care of yourself and someone else (anyone who knows me, knows that I HATE/ABHOR/LOATHE not getting my sleep and will be crabby and ugly to everyone until I fully wake up...not this morning). Finding this strength doesn't make it easy, it just makes it easier.

I enjoy living with Andrew and couldn't have asked for a better one-year-old to live with. I love him with every ounce of me (and that's a lot of ounces). I do, however, also enjoy "me-time" and know that I could not, within the next ten years, have a child. I am a selfish person and I own that.

I give SERIOUS praise and credit to ALL single parents out there. You have my respect forever and always.