the conrado

I made a very sweaty resolution on New Years Eve. I was with some of my closest friends and just after midnight we were discussing what we wanted in 2012.  For me it was a simple one word answer: Freedom. My resolution was sweaty because I had just lived out my dream of dancing in pajamas on NYE. To kick off freedom year, I wanted to dance with my friends and my husband... in pajamas... with a disco ball. I didn't want to be judged or self conscious and I definitely didn't want to be uncomfortable with pesky "real clothes" so the pajama dance party dream was brought to life by my friends and was executed to a level that I never imagined possible. Since that night I have intentionally started embracing my real self and doing something that frees me a little more each day.  This could be dancing, singing, making cookies at 11pm, NOT cleaning (I have a little cleaning obsession and many perfectly good Saturdays have been ruined by my cleaning projects and I say NO

There are lots of little things that I've been wanting to share lately, but nothing interesting enough for a stand-alone post. Here are three (3) short stories.  1.) Irrational Things New Parents Say in the Middle of the Night The longer I'm a parent (a whopping 7 months now), the more I realize there isn't much that other parents haven't already experienced so why don't we talk about it?   People tried to tell us how hard it would be to go from being married without kids to married with kid(s) but I feel like we had no idea what was about to hit us in the face.  I remember when our biggest decision was where we were going to get coffee after we slept 10 hours straight and were still in bed at 10am on any given Saturday morning. Those days were over for us on June 1, 2011. The most amusing (not at the time, but later) thing is the CRAZY stuff new parents say to each other in the middle of the night when you want to sleep but your baby has decided it's time f

I graduated high school at 16 years old, not because I was extra smart, but simply because I hated high school so much. I worked hard to get out of there as fast as possible.  I've always been a little older and cooler in my head so I felt like high school was a complete waste of my valuable time. I graduated in May, turned 17 in August and started Bible College in September.   Looking back, I wasn't even mature enough to be left at home alone, much less be in another state... at College.  Indiana Bible College: scene of the crime(s) A few days after getting settled in, there were auditions being held for "Chorale" (which was like a mini-choir that got to go on tours, etc).  I went down to the music department office and shamelessly dropped the names of my cousins who were chorale alumni in hopes of getting in with the "right" people  (I'd always had a knack for being friends with the right people. Every time I changed schools as a kid, I would s

I've always wanted to tell people about the Wendys near my office.  Gilbert Avenue Wendys is a lunch-time treasure, not unlike a dinner theater. You get food and a show.   I've been going to this particular Wendys once every few months, since I was 17 years old.  You can only go once every few months because it's a very intense experience. The line is about 12 cars long at any given lunch hour, but don't be afraid of the line because no matter how long it is, it's only going to take 5 minutes to get through it.  If the line gets too out of control they have a guy out in the parking lot with a headset on, calling in orders.  This usually ends in disaster with the lady at the pay window cussing out the guy in the lot because her headset is now blowing up with two sets of orders; the ones from headset guy in the lot and the one from the main speaker that headset guy in the lot couldn't get to quick enough. If you are ever lucky enough to be there when the two of

I mentioned in an earlier post about how I went through cars like  disposable contact lenses , and how that was another story for another day.  Well, today is that day.  I blame my dad for my uncanny ability to destroy cars because he's been known to have a "fender bender" or two. My favorite dad-crashed-another-car-story was when my dad backed into something in my mom's new(ish) white minivan and then just slapped some white wall paint over the 2X3 foot black spot.  We barely noticed.   I mean, come on... would this guy crash a car? On my 13th birthday, my dad taught me how to drive in the parking lot of a grocery store because that's the age he and I both felt I was ready. I had to wait 3 more years to legally drive, but I won't lie and say that I didn't drive any cars while I waited.  It's not really driving unless you're on the highway, right? I'm pretty sure that's where my trouble with the law really began.  My 16th birthday f

You need to read the first half of this story to really understand how I ended up in jail - twice.  Two years after my first 5-hour jail stay in Hamilton County, I was quite proud of myself for keeping my nose clean for so long. I was married to an actual adult and we'd purchased our first home and all was well (well, I may have gotten a ticket or two over the course of those two years, but who keeps track of those types of things?) .  I wanted to have my new Over-The-Rhine address on my drivers license since I had "recently" moved from our first little house in Northern Kentucky to our hip, new grown-up loft on 12th and Republic (which was the first "crack-house-drug-dealer-war-zone"  I lived in, according to my dad ). I say "recently" loosely because it had been a solid year since I'd moved.  When I arrived at the BMV, I was informed that I was driving on a suspended license (GASP.. Impossible!!).  I argued with the lady for awhile an