I don’t regularly post the weekly photo challenge from The Daily Post, but this one caught my eye.
I recently took a picture that was peaceful to me.
Ah, the sun coming through the clouds. What can be more peaceful than that?
My Nanny would always tell me that whenever you see the sun rays shining down, that means God is performing a miracle.
So every time I see the sky looking that beautiful, I not only think of her but wonder, “What miracle is God performing right this moment?”
big hairy balls…
I won’t be sick if I can help it. I turn into this big baby. I become the most helpless, needy person… that’s not me at all. I’m always striving to be independent… blah, blah.
Anyway, yesterday I tried to make it into work.. which I did. For about 30 minutes. On my drive to work, I felt something creep up on me. I don’t know if it was a stomach virus or what. All I knew was that I felt like I had to throw up. Ladylike, I know.
I thought, after sitting at my desk and keeping still, I’d feel better. I didn’t. I went right back home and took a sick day (after emailing my bosses and letting them know of course).
I slept for another eight full hours, even skipping lunch. I’m feeling better today, even though now I have a cold. I don’t know where that came from..
So what freaks me out is that the night before I got sick, my ex-coworker had a dream that I had a baby girl with Mr. Hazel Eyes. She was with my mom in the waiting room.
Not only that, when I came to work with my queasiness, my coworker got a call from her friend that same night, with news of her pregnancy. She’s two months along and had no idea, especially because she’s on the pill. So my coworker ended up saying I had “morning sickness.”
Um, I don’t know if I’m ready for all that! I mean, if it happens, it happens, but I’m not going to intentionally try for a little one. Even though my friend just had her twins on Christmas Eve and another coworker had her baby on January 3rd and they are the cutest, most adorable babies I’ve ever seen in my life!
Okay, I admit it.. I have a little baby fever.
I’m so excited about Halloween! Last night I had the chance to carve pumpkins with my boyfriend and his baby–okay, so she’s seven, but she’s still his baby. It was a surprise for her, so when we rolled 
up to Kroger, she was disappointed to say the least. But her face perked up once she saw the pumpkins. “I want a pumpkin!” she exclaimed. She was excited until we told her about carving it; she was adamant about painting the pumpkin. She didn’t warm up to the idea until we were home and sat down on the floor with our stencils.
Here they are taking the “yucky stuff” out of the pumpkin. Aren’t they just the cutest?
To do the carving, I printed out a few different outlines from various websites. We picked our favorite ones: a bat, a skull and a crazy pumpkin face. We pinned the outlines onto our pumpkins and poked holes along the outline. Then cut the top at an angle and scooped out all the insides. Once you get to carving, the pin holes make it much easier to cut! Fill with a light or a candle and you’re done!
This weekend there’s more Halloween fun planned! Tonight I’m going to watch the Rocky Horror Picture show with my friend and I’ve only seen bits and pieces of the movie. I don’t know what to expect, but I’ve heard it will be crazy! Tomorrow is a Halloween party and the boyfriend and we will have matching costumes–first time I’ve ever done that. I’ll be a cop and he’s my prisoner. Just like real life… *wink wink*
But seriously, can you even tell that Halloween is the next holiday? There are so many Christmas decorations going up around Houston! Highland Village even got a jump start on it a couple weeks ago… At least it reminds me to start Christmas shopping. I ordered my first Christmas present today! And I’ve gone thrifting to find a couple Christmas tins! I love to bake during the holidays but those tins aren’t the cheapest when you’re struggling to find them last minute. The ones I found in the picture were 80-99 cents apiece. Not bad…
And of course I got sucked into the clothing… so I found this cute little skirt for like $7! I swear I get more compliments on things that I get when I go thrifting than any other clothing I buy from the mall or department stores..
Hope everyone has a happy and safe Halloween weekend!!
Most girls are daddy’s girls. I, on the other hand, I’m a mommy’s girl. My parents divorced when I was very young, around the age of 2 and they both remarried in the years after. Needless to say, I was mostly with my mom; she had full
custody. I only saw my dad about 4 days out of the month. My mom was always there for me through the thick and thin. I could count on her to be there for me in any situation. I’m even one of those very few people that can talk to their mother about sex. (But, please, please, I don’t want to hear about her personal life like that–EW!)
I lived with my mom my whole life minus the past 7 months. Beginning with the house in Westbury that I don’t remember, since I was a baby. Then to several apartments in Sharpstown where the dining area was my makeshift bedroom. My mom was a single mother just trying to make rent, so we had to make do with what we had. My favorite was when she had a roommate because the dining area was separate and no one ever walked through there. I think it only lasted a year though.
When I was a teenager, we moved into a house in the same area. We includes me, my mom and my stepdad. It was a nice house and I had my own room for once. I was extremely happy. All my boxes were packed along the walls and I rolled in my chair across the room. Back and forth, over and over. I was the happiest girl on earth that day. I moved in there with my small day bed and bright purple sheets. I had sleepovers and parties there as a teenager. As a young adult in college, I grew out of my day bed and moved into a nice, queen sized bed. I had so many transformations while I lived in that house.
But I graduated from college and realized it was time for me to be an adult and move out from the parental’s house. Time for me to be an individual.
I began the search for an apartment and quickly realized there was no way in hell I’d be able to move out on my own. I made a few calls and at that time, Melissa, a friend of the family and whom I now lovingly call my sister, was looking for a place to live as well. I scoured all of Houston for our apartment options. We looked at a few large apartment complexes inside the loop; there was so much traffic and almost no parking spaces. But we kept our options open and kept hunting.
I started searching HAR.com and it really wowed me with all the different leasing options available. We made appointments to see six various properties. We fell in love–with separate apartments! She loved the one in the Medical Center, while I adored the one in the Heights. I did a little research on the areas, landlords, etc. and ultimately we decided the Med Center was the way to go.
Moving, it was an experience. Which is a nice way of saying it was a pain in the butt! I packed up all 24 years of my life in boxes and loaded them in my car. My furniture was taken apart and loaded into the empty apartment by uncles and stepdad. I was grateful for all the help. Even a cousin that I was recently reunited with took the reins and started packing my clothes for me.
I will say that I’m thankful that my sister picked this apartment. It’s wonderful. It’s in a quiet neighborhood but still in a central location. It’s a mystery how we got such a deal. And living “on my own” has been great. Sure, we’ve struggled a bit with bills and such, especially in the beginning when we had to pay all the deposits and we were both in the process of switching jobs. But being able to stay out till 6 in the morning and having whoever I want spend the night makes it all worthwhile. It’s an experience and I’m still learning what life is all about.
Ashley Mashley is a nickname that I’ve grown to love and embrace. At a family barbeque, an uncle gave me the nickname, not knowing how well it would stick.
Last year, I had joined eHarmony to start finding a broader dating pool. After talking
to this guy online for a bit, I told my family that I had gone on my first date. They relentlessly questioned me about the guy. I had only been on one date with him so I didn’t know much about him yet: his first name, his age, his job, etc.
Then they asked, “What’s his last name?”
“You know what, I don’t know!” I replied.
“You don’t know his last name? What if his last name is Mashley?? Then you get married and you’d be Ashley Mashley!” my uncle responded.
Everyone thought it was the most hilarious thing they had ever heard. I, on the other hand, didn’t think it was funny at all. The nickname never lost it’s appeal and they’ve all been calling me Ashley Mashley ever since that night.
