Average Monday Night

I had to run out for a bit, late last night, and when I got back to my apartment and pulled into a parking spot, I could see into the apartment of my Upstairs Neighbors (the same ones I've written about before).

And you will never guess what they were doing. I mean, really...you would never guess.

They were hula-hooping.

This explains everything.

Saving the Drama for My Mama

This was not one of my better weekends. I could give you the long version of it, but since I don't really feel that it's worth my time, I'll give you the short one:

I'm single again.

How's that for leaving out all the dirty details? Hehehe.

Dinner Conversation

Teeny: I really like Burger King's fries. I think they're my favorite.

Candy: See, I like their chicken tenders, but what I can't figure out is, why are they shaped like feet?

Teeny: Those are CROWNS, you idiot.

Candy: Really? I thought they were supposed to be chicken feet. I WONDERED why they thought that was appetizing.

You're So Vein

Since I'm having surgery in two weeks (May 7th, to be exact), I had to go to the hospital yesterday for my pre-admission testing. After about thirty minutes in the waiting room, during which I nearly hurled from the sight of some poor lady's injured foot, I finally got to go back and begin the "tests." First, I answered about 84 questions for the nurse, and then she explained exactly what will happen on the morning of my surgery. And then, it was time to give urine and blood samples. Urine samples, obviously, aren't that big of a deal for me. Blood samples, on the other hand, are a different thing entirely.

Let's just say, I don't handle it well.

And you wouldn't either if you'd had the bad experiences that I've had, which include: 1) Having a nurse insert the needle and then dig around for the vein; 2) having a nurse poke me four times before finally giving up on finding a vein; and 3) having my vein pop (or whatever the medical term is) and seeing blood squirting from the needle site.

Already shaking when I went into the room, I nearly fainted when the nurse informed me that, per my doctor's orders, she would be taking not one but six vials of blood. Deep breaths, Candy.

She began looking at my veins, and for some unknown reason, after examining my arms and hands, she decided to use a vein on the side of my freaking wrist. WTF? This seemed like a bad idea from the get-go.

So, she inserted the needle, and there I sat, looking the other direction, trying not to pass out, and wondering how long it takes to get six vials of blood. Not much time had passed (although it felt like an eternity), when I felt the needle being removed.

"Done already?"

"No, I've only taken one vial. Your vein just stopped giving blood."

Okaaaaaay.

Apparently, this was a sign that I was dehydrated. Which, consdering that I had consumed no less than three glasses of water with lunch, seemed odd.

"Do I need to drink a glass of water or something?"

"No, I'll just try again."

Great.

So, the nurse stuck me with a needle once again, this time in a more normal place (inside of my elbow), and whaddayaknow. Worked just fine. Five vials of blood later, I was ready to get the hell out of there.

It just never goes smoothly for me.

Miles Away From Ordinary

This is how I spent my vacation:

Can you guess where I was? Or, I guess I should say, what I was doing? Here's another hint:

Okay, that was a little more than a hint. As you can see, I went on a cruise!

And no, I'm not pinching my boob in that picture. I'm actually holding a shot glass from Carlos'n Charlie's in Cozumel. And that's a yard of margarita in my other hand. Not long after this picture was taken, I got back on the boat, went straight to my room, and promptly passed out. I told Philly I was just going to "lie down for a few minutes before dinner." Riiiiiight. I woke up seven hours later.

This was a fairly short cruise (my "Starter Cruise"), just Thursday afternoon to Monday morning, with a stop in Cozumel on Saturday. And we left from Mobile, Alabama, which was kinda neat, 'cause we could drive there and not have to worry about flight delays and such. I'm not sure how long Carnival has had a cruise leaving from Mobile, but I think it's a fairly new thing, although the boat itself (the "Holiday") isn't new. It's the oldest and smallest (and, as we were repeatedly told, friendliest) ship in the fleet, which definitely had some pro's and con's.

The biggest pro was that it was so easy to get on and off the boat. All I had heard about cruises was what an ordeal it is to go (lines, lines, lines), but this one was pretty much hassle-free.

The biggest con was that you could definitely feel the ship moving, which meant that we had to load up on the Dramamine for four days straight. Which, I actually kind of enjoyed; once you take enough of that stuff, you actually start to ENJOY the swaying. I mean, it wasn't like we were constantly being tossed around the boat or anything, but it was just enough movement to make you want to puke, if you didn't take the right precautions.

Since I was with Philly, the trip wasn't too crazy, but we definitely had our share of boat drinks and random hook-ups. (Okay, maybe just the drinks.) I spent the majority of the "Fun Days at Sea" on the top deck, lying in the sun (and swaying), while Philly spent her days in the casino, trying to win the award for Most Compulsive Gambler on the Ship. (Which they don't actually give out a trophy for, but if they did, she would have won it.) Actually, Philly did pretty well at the craps table and left the boat with more cash than she came with (hehe).

I spent my nights at the blackjack table and managed to make a little money as well. I have to tell y'all about my Favorite Blackjack Hand Ever, and hopefully some of you will have played enough to realize the significance of this. My original bet for the hand was five dollars, thank goodness, because if I had bet ten, like I do occasionally, I'm not sure I could have stomached what happened next. The dealer was showing something small, like a 3 or a 4, so I decided to split my 7's. The next card was a 7 as well, so I split again. Then, the next card was a 7, so I split again. The next card was an ace, so I stayed on that hand (that gave me 18), and on my other three 7's, the next card was either a 3 or a 4, which, of course, meant I had to double down. Three times. At this point, I had thirty-five dollars on the table, and I was just praying that I won at least a couple of my hands. I mean, it's not like thirty-five bucks is gonna break the bank, but still...I only had five dollars at stake to begin with! Well, the dealer busted (woo-hoo!), so I ended up winning all four of my hands! Naturally, Philly was over at the craps table, so I didn't have anyone to share the moment with. Which is why I'm boring you with it now.

Seriously, though, that was pretty crazy.

The other kind-of-crazy thing that happened at the blackjack table was on the first night of the cruise. A very hot and well-dressed guy was sitting beside me, betting recklessly and blowing enough cigarette smoke in my face to give me a nicotine buzz, were I not still taking Chantix. I figured he was just joking when he looked at me and said, "Wouldn't it be great if we could smoke a joint right now?" Always wanting to appear cool, I responded, "Yeah, I wish." I swear to God, not five seconds later, I detected an overwhelming smell of weed! I felt my eyes get huge, as I turned to look at him. He exhaled (in my face) again and smiled, as he showed me that his pack of cigarettes was not, in fact, full of cigarettes. And not five seconds after that, three security guards arrived at the table and asked him to "come with them." I figured he was headed for the ship's jail or something (maybe handcuffed to a pole on a lower deck, like Leo DiCaprio in Titanic), but the next day, there he was in the breakfast line. I'm sure they ransacked his room that night, though. Funny, I felt extremely guilty for the comment I made, like I had encouraged him to light one up or something.

In Cozumel, we decided not to participate in any of the Shore Excursions, and instead rented a Geo Tracker so we could tool around the island with the top down. What we learned was that the other side of the island, the side where the cruise ships don't dock, is so much more beautiful than the port side! The beaches were gorgeous (although very rough), and it was amazing to see how undeveloped the majority of the island is. And we felt so cool doing our "own" thing, as opposed to getting on some tour bus to go snorkeling for an hour.

I wasn't sure that I would be a "Cruise Person, " but they really are fun, and not terribly expensive, considering that pretty much anything (and I mean anything) you want to eat is included in the price of the cruise. (Definitely not conducive to dieting.) And there are all kinds of activities and shows, although we didn't participate much in those ("buzz killers").

As a matter of fact, I enjoyed myself so much that I'm already scouring the Internet for my next cruise! Any of you cruising veterans have any recommendations?

T.L.I. (Too Little Information)

I had planned to write a doozie of a post last night, updating everyone on what I've been doing lately (Keeneland roadtrip, bowling night, poker tourneys, movies, shopping, drinking by myself), but after I got home from work, I promptly fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up until 9:30. And then, I had to pack. For Spring Break.

Yes, Philly and I are going on Spring Break for the next few days...I could tell you what we're doing, but that wouldn't be any fun. I'd rather be mysterious. So I guess you'll have to stick around and read about it when I get back!

Chicken or...chicken?

Between the restaurants specializing in buffalo wings and the restaurants specializing in chicken tenders, there is entirely too much chicken for sale on Cumberland Avenue. And not nearly enough other stuff.

When Ruby Tuesday closed a few years back, I was a little disappointed, not because I ate there that often, but because, to me, it represented a kind of failure. Some of you over-35 folks might remember that the original Ruby Tuesday was located on The Strip (in the space that later became Charlie Peppers), and even though the Ruby Tuesday that eventually shut down was not "The Original," it still seemed...I don't know, ironic?...that a restaurant that (arguably) has done well everywhere else couldn't make it in the spot where it first saw success. I'm not sure if that failure reflects more on the restuarant or on the location, but either way, it's unfortunate. (And if it was the restaurant, I'm pretty sure the turning point was when they got rid of the brown bread and honey butter.)

Not too long after that, O'Charley's on The Strip served its last plate of chicken (o')tenders (what is the deal with the damn chicken?), and as someone who enjoyed many a meal (and by "meal," I mean "beverage") on that patio, I was pretty miffed. I just didn't understand how a restaurant, which did more business on Game Days than any of its other locations, couldn't stay open. I realize that six Saturdays a year aren't enough to keep a place in business, but for God's sake, it's not like they weren't selling a ton of liquor the rest of the time, being located right next to a college campus. Such a disappointment.

But, thank goodness, we at least still had Charlie Peppers to go to on Game Day...although not for long. I don't know if it was the new smoking laws or what, but Charlie Peppers also closed its doors, at the end of 2007. So much for "The Best Menu in Tennessee."

So where does that leave us on Game Days this fall? Buffalo Wild Wings? Where the style of service makes no sense whatsoever? Or, should we go to one of the fifteen chicken tender restaurants, where (God forbid) liquor is not served?

I realize that the turnover rate on The Strip has always been high, but now that Downtown has had such a rebirth, I think it's about time for a Cumberland Avenue Renaissance. We need patios. We need good food (not chicken). And we need some character. Is that too much to ask?

Ain't It Funny

I've been emailing back and forth with my friend Eddie this afternoon, and, as usual, the topic of conversation has been Love and Relationships. Or, lack thereof.

You see, Eddie and I have bonded during the past few months, over the eerie similarity of our love lives, albeit from opposite perspectives. Unrequited love is the theme here, and while he's been the unfortunate one on the giving end in his situation, I've been the (also unfortunate) one on the receiving end in mine. It definitely makes for interesting conversation, with him giving me advice on how to deal with someone whose feelings I can't reciprocate, and me giving him encouragement, by reiterating again and again that yes, this girl is clearly an idiot.

And, no, in case you're wondering, the guy I'm referring to, with whom The Feelings aren't mutual, is not Slim. If only life were that easy.

Lately, Eddie and I haven't been talking about our respective "situations" that much. Mine became somewhat of a moot point when I got back together with Slim, and Eddie has finally begun to let go of Her, a woman who, although worthy of his love, was not necessarily deserving of it.

However, I was recently confronted with an interesting scene, which prompted a return to our favorite topic. I had planned to meet Teeny out at a bar one night this week, and decided to call Him (with whom The Feelings aren't mutual) and invite him to join us. (I should add here that, despite my lack of romantic affection, I do have a deep affection of the friendly variety for Him.) Lo and behold, when He arrived, he had a New Girl in tow!

Interesting.

When I emailed Eddie about the night, he asked, "How did that make you feel? Honestly?"

To which I replied:

Haha, you want to know how SHE will feel when she sees you with someone else?

Well, she will feel jealous at first, because you're giving your attention to someone else. She might even consider "testing" you, just to see how much power she still has. But, if she's a good person, then she will let you go, because she knows that she doesn't really want to be with you, and you deserve to be with someone who does. And if she's a SMART person, then she will be SUPER nice to your new girl, because she'll know that that will only make you want her all over again.

And that, my friends, is straight from the horse's mouth.

Dissenting Opinion

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Sarah Jessica Parker?

Here's why: Sarah Jessica Parker on The Today Show. (Watch the video...the last couple of minutes are the best.)

Isn't she great? So insightful, especially about love and relationships.

I can't help but think that the writers at Maxim (the ones who named her the Unsexiest Woman Alive) are complete morons. SJP may not be the most beautiful woman alive, but she's smart, funny, and successful, in both her personal life and her professional life. What message are these writers sending to young women, when they say that she is the very definition of "unsexy"?

All these years, I've been told that Smart is Sexy. I guess Maxim disagrees.

Survey Says...

I haven't subjected my readers to one of those silly, self-indulgent surveys in awhile, so I think I'm due for one.

1. When was the last time you cried? Sunday morning. Actually, I think this is worth sharing. See, Slim is going on a cruise this week, with his brother, a friend of theirs ("Duckie"), and a bunch of other people, some of whom are extended family, and some of whom aren't. Although Slim's brother has a girlfriend, Duckie is single and is definitely looking to "talk to" some girls during the trip. Obviously, this makes me a little uncomfortable (who wouldn't be), and the following conversation certainly didn't help the situation.

Candy: (jokingly) Duckie can talk to all the hot girls, and you can talk to their ugly friends.
Slim: You mean the ones with braces?

In case you haven't noticed from my pictures, I have braces. (Unfortunately.) So, whether he was joking or not, this was an asshole thing to say.

Moving on....

2. What were you doing at 8:00 this morning? Eating Honey Nut Chex and watching The Today Show.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Reading cases.

4. What did you do in 1992? I went to Wesley Woods for a week, with my 5th Grade class.

5. What song do you love right now? Mariah Carey's new one is pretty good.

6. Three words to explain why you last threw up. Chantix side effect. Apparently the "recommended dosage" was a little too much for me. After several days of nausea (and one day of puking), I started cutting the pills in half.

7. What color is your hairbrush? Brown. I've had the same hairbrush for, like, 8 years!

8. What was the last thing you bought? Lunch at Zaxby's on Monday. (Wow, I've been thrifty this week!)

9. Where do you keep your money? What money?

10. What was the weather like today? From my little window in my basement office, it appears to be rather gray outside.

11. What's the best part about winter? That it only lasts 3 months.

12. When is your birthday? October 19th.

13. Are you over the age of 25? I am 25!

14. What were you doing last night? Napping, painting my nails, talking to Slim on the phone, still making him pay for that comment he made on Sunday, washing dishes, and watching The Departed (for, like, the tenth time).

15. Do you sing? Not in front of people. The other day, Slim mentioned that the only song I'll sing in front of him is that Miley Cyrus one, whenever it comes on the radio. Perhaps he would be happier with another ugly girl with braces...but one who sings like a bird. (Still not letting it go.)

16. Does your screen name have an "x" in it? Nope.

17. Do you know anyone named Daisy? No, although I insisted that my parents call me that when I was nine years old, after I read in some Baby Name Book that it was a nickname for Candace. (Apparently, a long time ago, "Candace" was pronounced "Can-day-see," emphasis on the second syllable. Hence, "Daisy.")

18. Do you make up your own words? Not intentionally.

19. Are you ticklish? No.... (Very.)

20. Would you say you're feisty? If by "feisty" you mean opinionated, stubborn, and demanding, then yes. Other fitting descriptions include "bitchy" and "high-maintenance."

21. Favorite animal? Kitties, for sure! I haven't gotten another one yet, because I'm still missing Missy. No pun intended.

22. Name someone whose name starts with the letter "B"? My ex-boyfriend, Bud. (Can't use real names!)

23. Who's the last person to call you? Philly. No surprise there.

24. At what age do you want to have kids? I don't know, sometime in my 30's.

25. What is your favorite candy? Me, of course!

26. What is the next concert you're going to? I might go see Tom Petty this summer. And I'm sure I'll go to a few of the Sundown concerts before then.

27. Where did you go today? Just the office, so far. After work, I have to go say "good riddance" (I mean, "goodbye") to Slim (he's leaving for his trip tonight), and then I'll probably have dinner with Philly.

28. What is something you say a lot? Apparently, when I'm ready to get off the phone I always say, "Alright, well." I also say "apparently" a lot. (I just realized that.)

29. What is something you never say? "You're right" or "I'm wrong."

30. Do you have to work tomorrow? Yep, but at least it will be Friday!

31. Who was the last person you said "I love you" to? Slim. (Errrr.)

32. Soup...out of a can, packet, or homemade? Well, obviously I prefer homemade, but I do eat a lot of canned soup, mostly Progresso.

33. Do you have a nickname? Just Candy.

34. What is the best movie you've seen in the past two weeks? Breakfast at Tiffany's. (I had never seen it before!)

35. Guiltiest pleasure? Shopping online. I love getting packages in the mail!

Woe Is Me

Y'know, I hate to talk badly about people (not true), but I've been having some real Issues with my upstairs neighbor. And rather than being "mature" about it and going up there to talk to her, I'm going to complain about her to you guys, instead. Because that's how I roll.

First of all, The Barking. I know I've mentioned this before, so I'm not going to elaborate too much, but suffice it to say that Upstairs Neighbor's dog is on my last nerve. I guess I just don't understand why the dog needs to be out on the balcony at all times. Actually, let me rephrase that. I don't understand why the dog needs to have the option of going out on the balcony at all times. (I'm basing this statement on the fact that the door to Upstairs Neighbor's balcony remains open, constantly. Even when it's thirteen degrees outside.) I mean, it's not like Poochie is going outside to a yard where he can roam around and pee on things; it's a balcony, for Christ's sake. So there he sits, on his little balcony, barking at everything that moves.

Two, The Constant Moving of the Furniture. I have no problem with someone occasionally moving the coffee table, to play Twister (or some other activity that requires floor space). However. When Upstairs Neighbor is spending thirty or forty minutes A DAY moving her furniture around, it can start to get old. Like, for instance, when I get home from work and want to take a nap, but all I can hear is the screech of Something Heavy being dragged across her un-carpeted floor. For an hour and twenty minutes straight. What the hell is that. I've never been in this girl's apartment, but I picture it as being filled with REALLY HEAVY furniture. Grand piano over here, extra large deep freezer over there, and solid oak four-poster bed over there. Or maybe it should go there. No, there. No....

I suppose it's not really fair for me to complain about Upstairs Neighbor making noise at 5:30 in the afternoon, but it is fair for me to expect The Moving to be finished by midnight. And it never is.

Sometimes she'll be stomping around and dropping things well into the night, and what kills me is that, when I get up in the morning (usually between 7:00 and 7:30), she's always up already! I can tell, because I can hear her walking around. I'm like, does this person ever sleep? Apparently not. She must take Adderall.

And finally, The Fallen Objects. I don't know whether Poochie is a deviant little bastard who likes to push things off the balcony, or whether it's really windy up there, but it's pretty much a regular occurrence for me to come home from work and find some object of hers lying in my landscaping. (I'm on the first floor, so I have a patio...or "lanai" as I like to call it...instead of a balcony, and there is some (very pathetic) landscaping around it.) At first, when I would find these Fallen Objects, I would try to return them. One time I found a screwdriver, and the next time Upstairs Neighbor was out on her patio, I asked if it was hers and then gently tossed it up to her. But after awhile, I got sick of being nice (it's not really in my nature), and I just began keeping everything. So far, I've acquired a pair of shorts, two sweaters, a screwdriver (same one...I found it again a few days later), and a Tupperware container. Not to mention all the crap that I've thrown away. I really don't understand why this girl doesn't keep up with her stuff better, but hey, her loss is my gain. Or my garbage.

Thank you all, for listening to me (reading me?) gripe about all of this. I feel a lot better now.