Pardon the Turkey!

I love this movie.

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And not just for *obvious* reasons.  I have a serious crush on Kevin James.  How could you not love him?  Every movie he is in makes me laugh.

Anyhow, in one scene of the movie, they're sitting around talking about Black Friday and he says, "I'm so not ready for this."

Thanksgiving is in one week.

ONE. WEEK. 

I just voted last week and now next week I'm celebrating Thanksgiving.  This just doesn't seem possible.  I'm so not ready for this.

But you know what's really angering me?

It's bad enough that stores have their Christmas decorations up before Halloween.  But this whole "Beige Thursday" thing is pushing me over the edge. 

It started last year with a few of the stores opening at 10/11 on Thursday.

And now this year, all the stores seem to be doing it!  And they're creeping up their opening earlier and earlier.  Some stores are now open all day on Thanksgiving!?!?!?

What happened to Thanksgiving?

I have shopped every Black Friday since 2004.  Every one.  But I refuse... RE-fuse to ruin my Thanksgiving with cat fights over vacuum cleaners and DVD players? 

ATTENTION WALMART - I WANT MY THANKSGIVING BACK!

I have never - ever - spent a Thanksgiving with Mr. DDA.  EVER!  He's always been out there making sure everyone else has a safe & happy Thanksgiving.

Regardless, it is my favorite holiday. 

I love turkey & gravy.  It's still fall, but the official kickoff of the Christmas season.  I have (most of) my family with me.  And it's without all the hustle & bustle of Christmas Day.  I love it.

More importantly, it's the day, as a country, we thank God for everything He has blessed us with.  It's a day to reflect, remember, and give thanks.  And now, retailers want to disgrace it.  It infuriates me.

And so I'm boycotting Beige Thursday.  I will not spend one cent on Thanksgiving Day.  And I know that my few purchases will not make a dent in their hauls.  Plenty of people will still go stand in line and fight over their Tickle Me Elmo's. 

But to me, Thanksgiving is sacred.  No amount of savings is worth sacrificing that day.











That being said...I will appear with all the crazies around 4 am on Friday at Best Buy, Walmart, Target, etc... scooping up all the leftovers that people have strewn around the store. 

You Are Worth More Than That

So, for the last two months, I've gotten a free magazine. 

I have no idea why.  I don't ever pay for magazines.

And this one should be right up my alley - it was all about being in style.

I grabbed it with glee and began to flip through it.

I should have known that this was not my kind of magazine when this was on the first page:

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Sure, it's just a purse...but it's a purse that cost more than my van.  $23,000 to be exact.

Can you imagine?  Even if I was a millionaire, I don't need a $20K purse.  That's just stupid.

Then, after pages and pages of Louis Vuitton, Marchesa, Oscar de la Renta, and DVF ads, I finally got to an actual article.

How to Dress for Less for Fall

Oh yay - here we go.  So excited.

The writer's budget - $1000 a month.

Say wha?

$1000 bucks a month?  On clothes?

Are you daft?  

Who in their right mind spends that on clothes?  I may spend that in an entire year - maybe.  But a month? 

I'll be the first to admit, I love shoes.  I love clothes.  But those price tags really got me thinking - who are these magazines geared towards and what are they doing to them????
  Most of us do not live in NYC or LA where fashion "really matters."  (Insert sarcastic comment here.) 

The UK is a year ahead of the US in style; and NYC is a year ahead of Virginia.  So we're not really "up" on fashion down here.  If it ain't at Gap or Old Navy - we ain't wearin' it.

These magazines are targeted towards the 20-something new career woman.  Last time I checked, college costs more than ever.  Last time I checked, unemployment was up.  (If you look at the raw data, not that garbage the Dept of Labor manipulates right before the election.)  Last time I checked, wages were down...across the board.

If I was Taylor Swift and making $15,000,000 a year, I might splurge.  But I'm not her.  I live on a budget.  And I have way more important things to worry about than what ex-boyfriend I'm going to bash in my next single. 

These poor girls have lived through Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus, and Justin Beiber/Bieber...(still don't know how to spell his name and I refuse to Google it.)  To call them impressionable is an understatement.  And now they're being told, from a magazine - mailed to their parent's house - where they still live, that they need to spend a $1000 a month on clothes?

But we have to give these girls a break! 

Teach them how to write a resume.  Teach them that what used to be reserved for a Friday night - is NOT ok to wear on Tuesday to the office.  Teach them how to take 10 basic simple pieces and make it last a month.  Teach them to show up on time and not hung over.  Teach them how to read a P & L Statement.  

Teach them something worthwhile!

Girls - Throw away those magazines! 

Invest in you.  Invest in your family.  Your community.  Your retirement.  Pay down your debt.  Help those in need. 

And since the magazines don't say it, I will.  Dresses, shoes, and bags can make someone look pretty.  But they can never make a beautiful person. 

I. Am. So. Blessed.

Wednesday night is my favorite TV night, but I'm foregoing my Ghost Hunters and Restaurant Impossible because I feel like I need to get on a boot box. (My version of a soapbox.)

This summer was trying, to say the least, for Mr. DDA & I. I'll never forget my lowest moment. I was in Target, hiding in the swimsuit section, trying to not run into someone (oh, come on! We all do it.) I was exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. I had this child in a cast. I was running on negative empty.  I couldn't remember the last time I had uninterrupted sleep.  And all I wanted was to run into Target and get one thing.  And I was forced to sit and hide.  And I just lost it.  I had a mini-pity party right there in the middle of the itsy bitsy, teeny weenie, polka dot bikinis.

As soon as I could, I ducked outside and was immediately faced with a young man in a wheelchair who's disability was permanent.  And he was more than gracious to Hannah. They had a special bond, I think.  And I felt "wee-big."

Ever done that, or am I the only one?

We have so much to be thankful for. If you're local, you know one of our Virginia State Troopers was killed in the line of duty last week.  His wife is sleeping alone tonight.

My husbands' best friend from high school lost her 10 month old little boy last month.  Can you even imagine how hard it is to even be in that house now?

Take a moment to stroll Facebook. Pray for Grey, Pray for Trey, Saving Baby Luc...  You could literally do this for hours.  And it doesn't take long to be reduced to tears and be absolutely ashamed at how ungrateful we can be I am. 

I call myself a Christian and yet day in and day out, I neglect to thank my God for breath, health for my children, safety for my husband, food in my pantry, that I have a job...even if I don't always love it. 

I look around and think, "How am I going to afford Christmas?" when there are children who have never and will never receive a single Christmas gift in their lives.  They'll be lucky if they have enough food to live until Christmas.

I look at my jeans, that are thankfully too big, and get frustrated because we don't have the extra spending money to buy new ones.  And there are moms in the Philippines who literally dig through the trash to get clothing for their kids.

I'm not thrilled with the current administration, but I live in America.  People die trying to just get here.  To be what I am.  To be called part of the Greatest Nation on Earth.  I can still go to any church I want.  Be whatever it is I want to be. 

I've seen this status on Facebook a lot:

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And most days, I just scroll through it and think, "Yeah, yeah."  But tonight, I sat in church and I just kept thinking about it.  And my heart became heavier and heavier.

All those people on Facebook, one day their life turned upside down and even if their loved one is healed, their lives will never be normal again. 

And yet, there I was, having a pity party over my child in a stupid cast.  I wish to goodness I could go back to that day.  And hug that person I avoided and bless the man in the wheelchair. 

I may never be a millionaire.  I plan on it, but it may never happen.  I may never be royalty, a senator, a independent business owner,...heck - even a boss. 

But I am me.  I am God's child.  I am blessed, protected, loved, cared for, cherished, and thought about.  The Bible says God thinks about us.  Funny thought, huh?  God thinking about me. 

I don't thank Him near enough. 

I. Am. So. Blessed.

The Wizard & I (aka BirFday post Vol II)

I am a self proclaimed wanna-be foodie.  Meaning I watch all the foodie shows - Top Chef, Top Chef Masters, Top Chef Allstars, Top Chef Desserts, Food Network Star, Chopped, Hell's Kitchen, Master Chef...

You get the point.

But here in southwest Virginia, opportunities are limited to be a real foodie.  Not that I don't try.  One of my new year's resolutions is always to try new foods & restaurants.  Yet I've never had Foie Gras, Sweetbreads, or Rocky Mountain oysters. 

(Don't know what a Rocky Mountain oyster is?  Google it.  Yes, they eat those - craziness.)

So...for the Pièce de résistance of my birthday celebration, my amazing sister (henceforth known as Trackpants) made reservations at The Spence.

For all of you who don't know what The Spence is, let me clue you in.  My all-time favorite TV chef is Richard Blais.

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Although, Scott Conant comes in at a close second.  But Blais is my true favorite.  I'm a huge fan.  Not like stalker-I-know-your-birthday-and-and-your-favorite-color kinda fan, just a fan.  I watched him on his first season of Top Chef.  And I watched his heartbreaking loss in the final round. 

I had panic attacks every week when he returned on Top Chef: All-Stars.  (By the way, I'm still convinced they only had that season to have Chef Blais win.  He was hands down the best chef ever to be on that show.  He needed a championship ring to go with his bowl t-shirt...sorry, football reference.)

Part of his winnings were invested in opening The Spence - An Eatery.  Anyhow, I digress.

I have been to one of his previous restaurants, Flip Burger, and had the best onion rings and Cap'n Crunch milkshake in my short life.  If you're ever in Atlanta and you want a burger, you must, must go there.  The milkshake was made with liquid nitrogen...it came out with special effects.

Anyhow, Trackpants had the forethought to make us reservations at The Spence for my 30th birthday.  (I know I said that already, but The Spence only opened in May - it's a big deal.)

We get there and it's valet parking.  Ugh.  Valet parking is for Lexus', not Hyundai's or Honda's.  Could've crawled out.  I felt like Duck Dynasty rollin up in there.  But the valets were super fun and friendly. 

The hostesses were young and beautiful...and nice.  (We were late for our reservations.  Usually if you're late - you're out.)  I guess that's the difference between NYC and the South. 

I was dying inside already.

As we walk to the table, Techy goes "Look, Look, Look."  I look around and there stands the Wizard himself at the bar.  I do a double take.  He's in an apron...and looks like he's working. 

Wha?  As with most TV chef's, I imagined they lend their name to the place.  Maybe create a couple dishes for the menu, but they don't actually "work" there.  They're too busy being on Fox & Friends or something like that.  But there he was.  And my inner nerd begins to freak.

Then they seat us.  And we're seated at the chef's table.  And my nerd is now like in full-on Urkel mode.  We are staring into the kitchen.  We get to watch our food being made. 

They bring out rolls...with coconut butter.  I'll let that sink it.  co-co-nut butter!

Then we order starters - some kind of calamari, lobster, shrimp concoction that was fried.  Move over Paula.  Blais wins this round.  Perfectly fried - not too breaded, not too raw, just perfect.

As I peruse the menu, there is rack of lamb, halibut, macaroni & headcheese, foie gras, all kinds of things that are making my wanna-be foodie's heart palipatate.  Mr. DDA orders the Jucy Lucy - a burger and fries.  We drive 7 hours for a burger.  I know; blasphemy.  I settled for the confit salmon with cream cheese mashed potatoes.  Safe for my first foodie adventure but definite something new.

It was out of this world good.  And it came under this Dr. Seuss looking dome that they opened and smoke rolled out.  Bonus points for presentation for sure.  The taste though was insane.  My backwoods, southern roots wanted a little lemon pepper on it, but it was truly perfect.  I'm not totally sure what all that little stuff on top was, but it all went together perfect.

And those cream cheese mashed potatoes?  I wished I had a vat - not a tiny schmeer.  My only complaint.  :)  I savor every bite.

Then, the lovely waitress brings me a complimentary birthday dessert.  Does this look like any blueberry ricotta cheesecake you've ever had?

before & after

And I'm a happy girl.  I've seen the chef, I've watched the kitchen, I've ate, and ate, and ate.  I was so happy.

We're sitting there, waiting on our checks, and all I can think is how great the night was.  Then, over my shoulder, a head appears and says, "Hey.  Happy Birthday!  Thank you so much for coming." 

And it's The Wizard - Chef Richard Blais...telling me...the nerdy accountant Happy Birthday.  Trackpants starts snapping pictures.  I love her.  And he says, "Would you like a picture?" 

I think I said something to the effect of "I eat napkins."  My brain was mush.  My culinary icon was offering to take a picture with me.



The Wizard & I

Then he begins to converse with my family.  Yes, my family.  Like he is genuinely appreciative that we came in.  And offers to take a picture with my family.  Wha?

"Just swappin some recipes" - caption by Techy

And just to clear this up, Trackpants is wearing clothes. 

I thanked him a thousand times...and yes, I'm considering sending a Thank You note. 

It was a fantastic night.  Better than I could've ever imagined. 

Oh - and for the money part - our total bill was $60.  Oh yeah!  

Thank you Techy, Trackpants, and Mr. DDA.   It was the best 30th birthday week a shoe loving, Football freak, wanna-be foodie girl could ask for.

Birthday Week (Vol. 1)

Last week, I didn't post - but it was an amazing week.  It was SOOOO amazing, I'm going to have to split this post into 2 separate posts.  (Only I could figure out how to celebrate a birthday for an entire week.)

Monday (aka Labor Day) was my 30th birFday (again, pet peeve...it's birTHday, people.)  Mr. DDA had to work.  So it was me & the three kids.  Not exactly my idea of fun.  But then we went to the Virginia Tech/Georgia Tech game.  I'm a VT football freak.  I live & breathe it during the fall.  We had press box passes.  The game was amazing.  We won in OT. 



Aren't We Cute?

Then, came Thursday...Thursday was HUGE in our house!!!
First, it was the Little Man's birthday.  And in case anyone within 5 miles of him didn't know - He turned 5! 

Also, Thursday was the cast removal day.  Yes - you read that right.  Hannah got her cast off.

Finally - after 3 long months...  I was able to cuddle her, hold her, she was able to take a bath...  It was wonderful. 

That night we went to Red Robin.  Red Robin is one of the kids' favorite places (and one of my wallet's least favorites.)  But what was so significant was that we went there the night before her surgery.  And I sat there with tears in my eyes wondering how we were going to do it.  How were we going to make it 3 months?  And then there we were - 12 weeks later.  With it behind us.  With our little girl - mostly healed.  (She still needs prayer though.  She could have to go through this again in 2 years.)

And as if that day could not get any better - Eli came home from school that day and I quote, "I prayed to Jesus and asked Him to come in my heart."  So he had a double birthday.  My cup overfloweth.  I could've died that night without a single regret. 

Then, on Friday, we headed down to Atlanta for my official 30th birthday party.  We had a giant cookout for Techy & Mr. DDA's birthdays.  My sister had a huge dance party.  I thought I would be somewhat disappointed that I wasn't having a party with all of my friends.  But I knew that as much as I loved Mr. DDA, a party planner he was not.  And the pressure would be on him to step it up.  My solution was a weekend with my family in Atlanta.

My sister made the plans.  And it was all a surprise for me.  We were supposed to run my first 5K.  She even made us shirts.

I can't figure out how to download pictures from Instagram.

Thanks to my bad knees and my sister's septic issues, the 5K didn't happen.  But we did run our own 3.1 miles at a local park.  And even though my knees wouldn't hold up the entire time, I finished. 

Then we were supposed to go to the zoo.  But thanks to poopie problems, the zoo didn't happen either.  But a friend opened her pool to us.

So far, you would think the weekend was a disaster.  Actually, it was wonderful.  This is exactly what I wanted.  But about to get even more AMAZING.  The final surprise was dinner reservations at The Spence.

Now, I'm a foodie.  HUGE foodie.  I love all those cooking shows on TV.  But hands down, my favorite TV chef, is Richard Blais.  He won Top Chef: All-Stars.  And with his prize money, he opened The Spence.  And my sister, being the amazing creative person she is, thought to take me there.  It was an amazing night.  One so amazing it needs it's own post.  But here's a sampling.

Then, after dinner, Mr. DDA took me here.

They sell these:

Only £225.00 - Converted to Dollars - $359!  OUCH!

While, I would *probably* never have bought them, I just wanted to try them on.  But alas - they didn't even have them in black so the temptation wasn't even there! But I did at least get to look around.  And pretend I was rich - if even for 48 seconds.

Then church on Sunday.  Did I mention that my sister goes to the same church as Casting Crowns?  Yes, the REAL members of Casting Crowns. 

All in all the weekend was amazing.  So good that I couldn't even believe it.  I'm up 5.5 pounds.  But it was so worth it.  So, so worth it.

See you soon with my review of The Spence! 

The Art of Thank You

Where has the art of thank you notes gone?

Call me old fashion but I’m a huge fan of the thank you note. And not an email or text, tho’ those have their time & place, but a good ol’ handwritten thank you note.

After high school graduation, while my friends got to slap address labels on pre-printed thank you’s, my mother made me painstakingly hand write each thank you note and address each envelope individually – no labels allowed.

In college, every time I got money or a package – out went a thank you note.

After my wedding – it took a month or two, but every one got a thank you note.

And after the babies – all three of them…

I used to laugh when I’d hear older women comment that “they didn’t even get a thank you” for the shower gift. I’m not that old, but I now appreciate a handwritten thank you.

There is a thank you etiquette that seems to have been lost on this next generation.

You take me out to dinner, you get a thank you. You fix me dinner, you get a thank you. You buy me a gift, you get a thank you. Unless I know you fairly well, you get a thank you for even inviting me over to your home for a cookout.

Mr. DDA grumbles when I send thank you notes with him to work for different things. He considers it “brown-nosing.” I consider it being polite. And if someone wants to call a thank you note brown nosing, they’re probably just jealous that they didn’t think about it first.

Dear new brides & grooms – a preprinted picture of you with “Thank you for your gift” does not a thank you card make.

We “old souls” want to see a real effort. Not just your picture or signature. A card that says “Thank you for xyz. We are going to use to help us purchase our washer & dryer. Please pray for us as we start our lives together. Thanks again.”

Four sentences. With ink. On paper.

It’s time consuming, yes. It’s a nuisance, yes. But trust me, people remember it. Long after you’ve forgotten the gift, people remember the thank you.

Splitting the Check

We all know I’m a bit anal, obsessive-compulsive, flat out annoying about some things.  Splitting the check is one of them.

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When we were poor broke newlyweds, I can’t tell you how many times we would agree to pick up pizza, pay for dinner, etc. with a promise that we’d get paid back and then never would.   We’d end up with a $50 bill to a restaurant that we didn’t choose, that we didn’t like, with drinks we didn’t order…And living off a quarter of a tank of gas and no milk for the next week.

It became a huge hot button issue with us…well, me actually.  I wouldn’t go out to eat with certain people because I knew I’d have to pay for all of it.  And just to be clear, I happily would have, if I could have afforded it.

Last week, we went to a friend’s house for pizza.  (Hi friend!)  We had all agreed to split the cost of the pizza amongst the different families.

And guess what, Ms. OCD forgot to pay!

I totally forgot.  Me – with her anal retentiveness about owing anyone a red cent!

So Saturday, I drove over there and put my money in her mailbox. 

Some people call it crazy. 

It was just $10.

But it was the point.

I detest asking for money.  So unless you owe me more than $50, I’m probably not going to ask you for it.

And I assume the same about others.  No one wants to say, “Ok – let’s pray and eat.  Oh and don’t forget to give me your tab money.”

That isn’t fair.  There are people out there who love to take advantage of others’ generosity.  I’m terrified of being grouped into them.

And I’m talking about the habitual offenders.

The “I’ll getcha next time-ers.”

Last thing I wanted was for my friend to think, “Wow.  We ordered all this pizza and paid for it and Sarah didn’t bother paying us.  That’s the last time we’ll do that with her.”

So, if I owe you money and I’ve forgotten, 1) I apologize; 2) it’s probably from a long, long time ago; and 3) remind me and I’ll pay it. 

Kid brothers need not apply…you owe me wayyyy more than I’ll ever owe you.