lies, all of them. LIES. but also, ponytails.

Let me be the first to tell you: you shouldn't believe everything you read on the internet.

Crazy, but true. True. Unlike some things you will read.

Things like...Pitch Perfect 2 will be released on Netflix on September 1.

Apparently that was just a pretty little lie. And I was too excited by it to bother fact checking. Waaaaaah.

So in conclusion, much to my dismay- PP2 is NOT on Netflix right now. As you can imagine, this totally wrecked my day. Buuuuut then I recovered, because Millie got a ponytail.

(These things may not seem related, but somehow...they are.)

I got a ponytail. It came with a side of sass.

She got her ponytail yesterday and I 100% can't even deal with how freaking adorable it is. Ask anyone I work with. All I could do was shove pictures in people's faces all day. LOOK AT MILLIE SHE HAS A PONYTAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!...repeat, repeat, repeat.

I got all the chalk, too. Because I'm the boss.

 Millie's two-year-old friend that lives next door told his mom that Millie is "pretty like a flower." That made me happier than it probably should have. Then when he was over playing with us tonight, he told me "the snake bit me" as he pointed to our garage. Two true things, W. You're on a roll. Unlike the internet. 

So you know how Millie is a really happy, smiley baby? She is. Except for when she's not (exhibit A: when she's wearing a life jacket). But for the most part, she is.

Except for on school picture day. School pictures, apparently, are not her thing.

I don't like it and you can't make me pretend like I do. 

Add this to the list of things I obnoxiously forced my coworkers to laugh at all day long. I can't help it. It's too good. Millie is not amused. Don't even try her.

So my Netflix dreams all crashed and burned this week, but my cute girl got even cuter, brought home some hilarious pictures, and got called a "pretty flower," so in the end, I can't complain.

the end of happiness

Camilla's life has been pretty sheltered so far, I'd guess. I mean, every adult she meets spends 100% of their time trying to ensure she is happy (preferably giggling), comfortable, cutely attired, rested, and fed. We try our best to shield her from anything painful. We smother her in love and affection and cuddles, while also giving her space when she needs it. We try to make her world as predictable, supportive, and happy as we possibly can.

But she's four months old now. And yesterday I decided it was high time that she discover what the real world is like. The world where everyone isn't always worshiping the ground you walk on; the world where nobody really cares if you're happy and comfortable at all times.

That's right.

I took my baby to the DMV.

(If you're not from 'round here, the DMV is the Department of Motor Vehicles; the hellish government agency that Americans are forced to visit occasionally to renew their driver's licenses and do other various tasks. It has a nationwide reputation of being basically the worst place on the entire planet: the epitome of inefficiency, long waits, angry workers, germy chairs, and general misery. Despite the fact that I'm sure there are many excellent DMVs and DMV employees, my personal guess is that the department as a whole will never overcome the reputation that they've acquired over the last however many years (when was the Model T invented? Is that when the DMV formed, chartering their ridiculous rules and queuing up the line for a lengthy wait?).)

So yes. When I discovered (ahem, in September...while I was in the midst of a very long maternity leave wherein I had all the time in the world to get tasks like this done...) that I'd need to go to the DMV before my birthday in order to show them 12,480 documents that prove that I am who I say I am and I live where I say I live, I naturally procrastinated it until yesterday. Which meant that I really needed to go. And I had Millie with me.

But why wouldn't you leave her with a babysitter?!?! Why take her to the DMV?!! Oh gosh, the waiting room! The employees! The poor citizens that will have to listen to your baby scream as she discovers what misery and suffering really are!!!

Yes, all of these things crossed my mind too. But I stuffed down those thoughts of logic and human decency and pressed on towards the DMV, infant in tow.

This was pre-DMV, a.k.a that time when her life was still happy and full of hope and optimism about the human race.

I had great intentions. Before we entered the waiting room, she would be rested, fed, freshly diapered, and in a fabulous mood. Then we could spread Christmas cheer to all the other patiently-waiting citizens in the form of adorable baby babbles and smiles!!

It was a great plan. But then she fell asleep in the car and she really needed to stay asleep. So what if it was past time for her next bottle? I took a gamble and just toted her in in her carseat, hoping she'd magically sleep through the whole thing and peacefully awaken right as I finished up my business. Then we could have a nice bottle on a bench outside before heading back home!

That was also a great plan. Unfortunately, Millie didn't quite get the memo.

You can imagine how this goes, because you've been to the DMV before. There is ALWAYS a screaming baby in there, isn't there? It's just part of the happy atmosphere. It just wouldn't be the DMV unless someone's brat is screaming his or her cute head off, starving half to death while their anxious mother desperately fills out endless forms that ASK THE SAME QUESTIONS OVER AND OVER OH MY GOSH CAN'T YOU SEE I JUST WROTE MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER IN BOX B, MUST I ALSO WRITE IT IN BOXES H, L, AND Q??!?! 

You wanna talk about the magic of Christmas and the magic of babyhood? THIS was magical. Just ask all the people unfortunate to go to the Athens DMV yesterday afternoon. I feel like I owe everyone an apology. And a drink. Or three.

To add insult to injury, I also had to have my picture made AND write down my "weight." Ha. And since some of you informed me that apparently not all states require your "weight" to be PRINTED ON THE FRONT OF YOUR LICENSE, something I was definitely not aware of until now, I'm even MORE extra-angry about that small injustice. I think I've found a political cause I can really rally around. Stop the madness, Georgia! Don't nobody need to see your fake weight on the front of your card!! 

The really funny thing is that after the entire torturous procedure, the lady helping me (who was actually incredibly helpful, kind, patient, and good-natured...and even called Millie cute!) asked whether I wanted a five-year or eight-year license. Like...is that even a real question? Do I want to come relive this horrible experience in five years or in eight years? Hmmm...let me think about it. (And then I thought about it and realized that Millie will be either five or eight then, and it was the saddest thought ever. She won't be a baby! Waaaah!!)

So anyway. For every one of you that think Millie is the cutest and most precious and happiest baby on earth (and you are all right), there is a random citizen of Athens who thinks that both Millie and her mom are the spawn of Satan and spent 30 minutes on Wednesday afternoon wishing a plague on our house and probably took sneaky pictures of us and tweeted them with mean captions. And we deserved it. My deepest apologies, Athens. See ya in eight years!

stop talking. now. NOW.

There's one tiny Mexican restaurant in our tiny little town. Not Athens, obviously-- there are at least 100 Mexican restaurants in Athens, thank God, but in the little town where our house actually is...there's one. Therefore we eat there at least once a week. I won't disclose what the max number of times we've visited it in a week is...that would be embarrassing (but less so if you think of it from the perspective that I'm just trying to support small local businesses...). Anyway, for the past several years, we spend every Tuesday evening there with Matt's family. Taco Tuesday is one of my favorite parts of the week.

Last night our crowd was slim-- just Matt, his dad, and me. Matt's sister Amy is due to give birth to our newest niece any minute now (or, technically...two days ago...) and so Matt's mom is up in NC with her. We're friends with the family that owns the restaurant (obviously, since we're probably the main reason they're still in business) and the waitress, so it was normal for them to inquire about where Matt's mom was when they noticed her absence. We told them about the impending arrival of our niece, which soon turned into a short, sweet discussion about babies in general and how cute and sweet they are. Nothing wrong with that.

But then.

I'm sorry, it's taking me a minute to figure out how to even tell this story.

Please recall who is sitting at our table. Me, Matt, and my father-in-law.

We're friendly with the workers there, but in a normal-small-town-restaurant-owners/workers-frequent-diner way. Like, we chat once or twice a week while ordering dinner and refilling beverages. We don't talk on the phone or invite each other over to our houses. We're not roommates or cousins. We're not even Facebook friends.

So I'm having a hard time figuring out how our conversation so quickly turned wrong.

Here was the progression. Pretend this is a fancy flowchart.

Mom isn't here because Amy's having a baby-->Babies! Yay! Yes, it's a girl. Yay, girls are great!-->Our waitress can't believe how quickly babies grow up. Her youngest is already 13 months!-->All three of our waitress's babies were conceived while she was on birth control. She is the most fertile person ever!-->Yep, the first one was the shot, the second one was an IUD, and the last one was the arm implant thing. But after the last one she had surgery so now there REALLY SHOULD NOT BE ANY MORE!!-->But still, there's a chance that she's pregnant, maybe.

If you ever see me making this face while you're telling a story, there's a 100% chance you should stop telling your story. 

Yes. I'm sure that Matt and his dad were SUPER pumped to find out all of that about our friendly waitress!

I mean, infertility issues and over-sensitivity aside...isn't that pretty much ALWAYS INAPPROPRIATE UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES (to share with strangers...not like, your doctor or your best friend)??

I was slightly tempted to respond with the tales of the 71 cycles that Matt and I have tried and failed to get pregnant, or the variety of drugs, surgeries, and specialists that haven't worked for us. Or maybe shown her pictures of the baby that we thought would be ours but wasn't. Or maybe just faked a stroke and had someone call me an ambulance to get me out of there.

But I didn't. I just made variations on that face and ate my taco really fast.

I don't know if any of yall are waiters, but here's a valuable tip if you are. Maybe don't share that stuff with random patrons.

To be honest, it didn't really upset me all that much. I think I was so busy being amazed and awed by the insane inappropriateness of the whole thing that it shielded me from being hurt. And now I'm telling yall and we can all have a big laugh at it, so perhaps the experience was valuable after all. 

But still. Just...no. Stop.

living the resistance

You probably think I'm pretty normal. Typical. As far as culture and lifestyle choices for the society I inhabit, I don't really stand out. I look, talk, shop, and dress like pretty much everyone else. 

But deep in my heart, I'm a rebel. Every day I live out my tiny, secret resistance. And nobody knows. Well, until now.

Behold: my one-woman cultural resistance against...against nothing. I don't even have a cause I'm carrying a banner for. These are just the things that have come to light in recent (or not-so-recent) days that apparently make me 'different' (I prefer to think of it as 'special') from most of the other folks in my peer group. Ha.

1. I haven't seen Frozen.

AND-- I've never even heard the song 'Let it Go.' I KNOW. Some of you are probably jealous, based on how much people complain on Facebook about being sick of that song. I don't know why anyone would be shocked that I haven't seen Frozen, really. I don't have kids. I don't babysit. We're firmly in camp DINK, even if not by choice, and camp DINK doesn't choose to spend $25 and a Saturday night being camped out in a movie theater full of crying three-year-olds who have to run past your legs to the potty every 12 seconds. To be honest, I have no problem with Frozen and have every intention of seeing it. I'm sure I'll love it, just like I love all the other Disney movies. It's just that people seem utterly shocked when they hear I haven't seen it yet. Really? Really. Okay then.

2. I haven't upgraded the operating system on my iPhone.

That's right, kiddos. Take a walk down memory lane. Look at those lovely old icons! The dull, non-cartoonish colors!! A few weeks ago, a coworker noticed my phone and practically weeped as she begged to scroll through my icons and folders, reminiscing about the good old days. Apparently my phone is some kind of museum now. Whatever. I mean, I didn't upgrade when the new OS first came out because I figured there'd be tons of bugs and it would be annoying. I wanted to wait a few weeks to get the kinks worked out. Now we're past the point of waiting...I'll probably just keep rocking this OS until I get a new phone (in like, a year). Why mess with a good thing? 

3. I haven't read Harry Potter.

Pretty much the only reason I'm still holding out on this one is to bother my friend Mollyanne. Ha. No one on earth cares about anything as much as Mollyanne cares that I haven't read Harry Potter. I wouldn't want to take that away from her. I'm not sure how I slipped through the cracks on this one, really. I have nothing against them. I'm 100% sure I'd love them, as they're right up my YA-loving alley. I think the main fear is that I know that once I start, it'll take a long time to get through all 7 of them (7? Right?) and in the meantime, think of all the other books I won't be able to read? Opportunity cost? I don't know. It doesn't make much sense, really. I need to do it. If I had them on Kindle, I'd be much more likely to make the commitment, because like...those books are really big, and if I have to get them in hardback from the library...ugh. Huge. Who wants to lug that around for weeks on end? Not me. Wah wah wah.

4. I've never played Candy Crush.

I know!!! What did I DOOOOO with my life all those months that everyone else on earth did NOTHING BUT PLAY CANDY CRUSH ALL THE TIME?? I don't know. Probably sit alone and catch up on some five-year-old cultural phenomenon I'd missed out on the first time around. I really have no regrets on this one. How could I regret not having wasted dozens of hours on a phone game? Exactly. I don't plan to catch up on this one, either. 

I would feel a lot more high and mighty about this particular one except that last night I downloaded 2048. So...now I'm like one for two on Super Addictive Phone Games, I guess. Oh well. For the record, 2048 is awesome and I feel like it's a more intelligent game than CC, so I give myself props for that. I mean, there're numbers. Math? Right? Right. Also, although I've played quite a few rounds of 2048 by now, I'm still not entirely sure I understand what I'm doing. That's bad, right? Like, I get it? But then...sometimes the blocks all do something I didn't expect, which makes me think...maybe I don't actually get it. Oh well. I'll keep trying anyway. What's a good score? I have no basis for comparison here, so I'm not sure if I'm even doing good or not. Help me out, other sell-out people!

5. I do not and WILL NOT 'put a bird on it.'

SERIOUSLY, people of America. STOP ALREADY WITH THE CUTESY BIRDS ON EVERYTHING. This particular resistance is becoming increasingly hard to maintain, since I don't happen to make all of my own clothing, accessories, and home decor. But maybe I should. Or maybe I'll have to start looking at vintage stores to find a tshirt that doesn't have a damn 'adorable' owl on it somewhere. Good GRIEF! Staying strong on this issue was particularly vexing when we were trying to get the nursery ready in the fall. HOLY COW. Finding a non-bird-emblazoned baby item was next to impossible. It's gross. I can't wait for everyone else to move on past this sick obsession with gross, germy, hateful, disgusting air rodents.

 In fact, I think that I'll just go hole up in a cave with a stack of Harry Potter books, a Frozen DVD, and 2048...yall let me know when the world has gotten over birds and moved on to the next big thing that I'll probably miss out on. Thanks! 

things that are stupid

Today my friend Allison blogged about things that are making her happy. Sometimes I do that, too. Or at least I think about it. I tried to think of some of those things today, but I couldn't. I was too distracted by all the things that are making me frustrated. Nothing huge, just...stuff that's getting on my nerves and making me a little stabby today. I think that if I get it all out, I can move on with my day, right? So here we go.

1. It wasn't supposed to rain today, but it is. UGH. If it's going to rain, I need to mentally prepare myself in advance. So today's cold drizzle is particularly unwelcome and making me sad. GO AWAY, RAIN. This leads to a sub-frustration: I got my toes (and fingers!) done on Saturday and I haven't yet had the chance to show off my toenail polish...it's been too cold to wear open-toed shoes! This is really stupid. I need it to be spring already.

2. Remember the story about the glider and how I was going to finally get my money refunded? Such an uplifting story! Yay! Money!! Yeah, no. Still no check, no word from the guy, nothing. BOOOOOOO. If he was still just going to stiff us, I wish he hadn't gotten our hopes up last month. I'm so over getting my hopes up for nothing.

3. I didn't buy a Mega Millions ticket yesterday. If I had, I probably would have won. The winning numbers are the numbers I PLAY ALL THE TIME (well, all the time that I do play...which is like twice a year). UGH!! I wouldn't have won the whole thing because I would never pick 24. I pick all odd and prime numbers (because they are the best, obviously), and sometimes a 12 (for my birthday). But there's a really good chance I would have had four or five of those, including the mega ball of 7 (I almost always pick that as my mega ball number!). GAAAAHHHHH. So close to being a thousandaire. My favorite prime and odd numbers finally get picked and I'm sitting this one out. Figures. This also leads to a sub-frustration: wasn't it great when Ellison was born on 11/7/13? I thought it was the best thing on earth because ALL THE NUMBERS ARE PRIME and WHAT ARE THE ODDS (haha)?!?!?! It was such a sign that she was meant to be!!! Only, yeah. No. Too bad it'll be three more years til I can have a chance at another all-prime-numbers birthday kid. Or any kid, probably.

4. I went to Ulta yesterday to get the daily steal that I REALLY wanted and they were OUT. That made me sad. I'd been looking forward to getting my Lights, Camera, Lashes! mascara for $10 for like two weeks. And then I couldn't. Boo.

5. I was having a really great dream last night. We drove to Cancun (in a minivan?) and it only took us like TWO HOURS to get there-- so great! We had Lola with us and had just gone out to the water and it was so beautiful and warm and perfect. Matt, Lola, and I were having the best time, and THEN A BIRD FELL ON ME from a tree!!! A huge tropical bird. And I totally freaked out in the dream, frantically trying to get it off of me, which led to me actually freaking out and violently thrashing around in real life, in my bed. It woke Matt up and he had to like put me in a restraint hold to calm me down. And then I was awake and re-hating stupid birds. Dream ruiners. Nasty gross creatures. Ugh.

Anyways, obviously nothing here is actually all that important, but I'm sure we can all agree that it's all stupid. Hopefully things go up from here. If any of you happened to purchase one of those winning lottery tickets using my money, I hope you'll share some with me. People who prefer odd numbers really need to stick together.