It's a hard knock life for me

So I can't stop being tired. Like my eyes can't focus tired. I wake up in the mornings exhausted. I'm so tired of "events". I'm so tired of having something every weekend that even thinking about all that I need to do makes me even more tired. Why oh why can someone not clean my house and do my laundry? When I get home it's the last thing I want to do. But where do I find myself on my days off? Doing just that. I sweep, dust, vacuum, clean the bathrooms, mop/swiffer wetjet, change the sheets, towels, do laundry. Gross. No wonder I'm tired. How do orphans like Annie do this every day? It's a good thing that we didn't have a huge house and that I wasn't forced to clean everyday.

Seriously, though... I'm tired. TIRED. I could fall asleep at any point in time. I got up on Tuesday am and went running. This usually energizes me and I'm up and ready for the day. I ran 5 miles, came home and had to lay back down. Totally unusual. I think a nap could possibly help? I'm not sure though--because I live in fear of not being able to sleep at night. My alarm goes off and I snooze one time (usually means I just lay there thinking about how I should get up and get dressed because I'm not even sleeping,) Now, my alarm goes off and I feel like I can barely become aware enough to snooze. Then I sit and think... how much longer could I sleep and still make it to work on time? Do I really need to shower? How many sick days do I have left?

What is wrong with me? I will most assuredly check webmd and it will tell me I am preggo (I am not), or have another serious illness. I'll go check now.

Dirty Thirty.

So this past weekend I headed to beautiful kingsport, TN. The trees. Oh the trees. How I've missed you and your colors and the fact that you are so tall and consuming. Pork BBQ sandwich, how tasty you are and how you treat me well. And waitresses who call me sweetie and look confused when I don't want sweet tea. I miss you.

The wedding was BEAUTIFUL. They did so much work themselves and it was just perfect. The bride and groom are just lovely and hopefully living it up on their honeymoon. Weddings are so moving to me. Love them.

Saturday, my birthday, actually a crappy day all in all. I'm sure it's due to my high expectations that because I'm turning 3o my whole world would turn around and I would be showered with love and attention. Not so much. To fill my time on Saturday (because ben was having groomsmen duties) I scheduled a massage at a nearby spa (suggested by the hotel.) SUCK. It was expensive and not good. I'm pretty sure that Debbie watched a youtube video about how to give a massage. She failed... and used a lot of oil. Gross. I won't go into all of the details as to why it was a crapstown day, but it ended with a lovely wedding and reception.

Dear 30,

I hate you. You gave me circles under my eyes and a shitty day. You also have graced me with a new blemish that is the size of Japan. It is so huge that I can't stop touching it and being amazed at it's size. You have also made me feel that I should be having children a-plenty. Ok, maybe that's not me, but everyone else who keeps tell me that they were finished having kids by now, or the fact that my fridge is now covered in my friends babies. You make me look tired (also been told that this week.) I'd really appreciate you sending me something in the diamond category in order to make up for your misfortune.

Thanks,
me

New tag line?

So in case you didn't know, though I'm not sure how that would be possible, I am entering a new decade on Saturday. This means that I have to have a new tag line on my blog. I'm no longer a late 20 something. I'll be an early 30 something. That just doesn't have the same ring to it. Maybe I'll come up with something clever this weekend as I spend many hours laying in our king sized tempurpedic mattress in Johnson City? I love laying in hotel beds. Yes, I realize that it's probably not sanitary or something, but there is just some sort of something that makes laying in a bed not your own, watching movies, and not being the one to clean up the room that I just love. (I would say someone else who makes up the bed, but as I rarely make our bed up that statement would be misleading.) (granted, if I made up our bed everyday that would make Ben feel unwelcomed as he is still sleeping in it when I leave--so there's my "out.")

I haven't really had time to give this monumental occasion much thought. I mean, I've been saying that I'm going to be 30 for a while, but I haven't had time to sit down and think of the implications. It just sounds so... old. How did I get here? This morning my work had a little breakfast celebration for me and another woman who is turning 60 and they all said, "wow, by the time I was 30 I was already finished having kids." Um... insert knife, turn and twist and let judgement follow. I'm sure they didn't intend to tell me that my uterus is getting dusty, but they did. I also had 2 women tell me that their daughters are in their early 30's and don't even have any prospects of dating! Can you believe it? I mean, they must have taken 30 way worse because they just had a dark and dismal future ahead with no man and no babies (if you could hear my tone, you'd recognize the sarcasm.) Breakfast was amazing, though. It was really thoughtful. I just like to give them a hard time. I got lots of cards! I love that!

My eye sight also seems to be failing me. I think staring at a computer all day isn't helping--or the fact that my eyes are entering their 30th year. I can't get my eyes checked until November, though... dang insurance and your once a year exams.

I didn't find any amazing dress or shoes for my bday, so I bought makeup. I figure it can't go wrong. Right? I'll spend most of my bday weekend with time to contemplate. We get into TN around noon and Ben will be busy with the groomsmen until the rehearsal. Then on Saturday they also have groomsmen duties all day. So, I've scheduled a massage which I'm very much looking forward to--and maybe a run. So in all of my lack of thinking--I'm sure it will catch up to me.

Did I mention that our flight LEAVES at 6:45 in the morning? God bless. If only one of my sleep cycles had already fallen away...

Little blue box.

So this weekend I had the awesome opportunity to run in the Nike Women's marathon again. (well, I did the half because I have no interest in doing that course for the full.) There are so many perks to this race--it's basically all women which I think just makes an awesome aura. It benefits LLS. It's pretty. We run by the golden gate bridge (which was too foggy to really see), and Alcatraz (which I totally missed this year), and we get Tiffany's necklaces at the end as our "finishers medal." Um, yes please.

It isn't like you just get them in a bag at the end either. No. You cross the finish line and there lining both sides are men dressed in tuxes, holding silver platters, filled with little blue boxes. That distinctive blue that every girl automatically knows. I'm not proud of my love of this color--but I do love it.

Because I only ran the half I was able to stand on the out and back (which was mile 17 and mile 25) and catch the rest of our team as they crossed. It was really fun to stand out there and cheer for everyone to come by. It's so amazing to see peoples faces when they realize that they ARE going to finish. They've made it. They've arrived. They break into tears when they see the finish line. It's amazing to see so much purple in this sea of 20,000 people. To know that they raised over 14 million dollars for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in this ONE event. They were racing to cure cancer. Some of them are survivors. Some of them are running in memory of others. Some of them are running in honor. The names are on their jersey's--those lost, those still fighting.

So though we ladies (and a few gentleman) get together and run on Saturday's--fill our runs with idle chatter, stories of chaffing, and maybe a little gossip--we also each have our own connections. With the support of others we will cross the finish line.

Watcha doin later?

So I went to the Gap today at lunch. I was checking out with my cardigan when the guy says, "So, do you have much time left on your lunch break?" (ps. I am dressed in office attire and buying cardigans... well A cardigan, not plural.)
AB: "Yah, a little while."
Gap Guy: "Do you have lunch plans?"
AB: "Um... HEB"
GG: "Well, I'm going to Pluckers and have a coupon for 5 free wings" (in a suggestive manner"
AB: Um. Awesome. have fun. (casually showing my WEDDING RING.)

I mean, should I be flattered? I can't tell. I mean, do I look like I eat a lot of wings? Or is it that I look like a good deal because I could probably only eat 2 wings? The truth is, I don't eat wings at all and they really disturb me. Do I look like a girl who could be picked up on free wings?

I may need to cut down on my lunchtime mall trips...

Stalker.

So. I tried to stalk myself. You know, type my name into google and see what comes up. Apparently, I do not have the adequate skills to actually stalk someone. The only reason I'm able to do this for myself is because I know details.

1. If you didn't know, I was strangled at 25 by a snake . This is what comes up if you type in Amanda Black.
2. I'm also a stripper if you go to the "images" section. I will not post a link to that, because I'm not attractive. I mean, I totally thought that I would be, but ew.
3. Because I'm technologically savvy you can also link to my twitter account.
4. I'm also a creative designer. I'm not sure what she designs as I got bored waiting for everything to load.

Amanda Black Austin gets you a little bit further, but not really.

Amanda Hopkins Black will get you to my linkedin account that I don't use.

However, amandaeblack is lets you hit the jackpot. It will pull up pictures from my flickr account from a couple of years ago and other vital information like facebook.

I'm totally annoyed that when I try to stalk myself it doesn't link to my work website. What's up with that?

Que?

So I just got an email from Real Simple about eye makeup and it has suggestions for mascaras. SO, of course, I went to check them out (even though could probably have listed them)--you know because I have an obsession.

Anyway--Why would one want a natural look? Yes, I realize you can tell me why, but I still won't really get it. (even though I will not my head and agree with you--it's just a formality, really.)