Meet and Greet Monday: Chance Brandon

The oldest of my younger brothers, Chance, gets the "meet and greet" spot this month. Describing Chance is almost impossible. There just aren't adequate words to convey who and what this unique brother of mine is, so I'll just start a list of what comes to mind when I think of him. Chance is:
1. a phenomenal basketball player
2. one of the funniest people I know (he and Kendall, my other brother, are pretty close to a tie in this department)
3. unable to sit still for longer than five minutes
4. a very good-looking guy (and knows it). See, here's proof:

5. incredibly random
6. a gentleman
7. a people person
8. one of the strongest people I know, both physically and mentally
9. Mr. Personality
10. one of the two best brothers anyone can ask for and one of my best friends.

Like all siblings, Chance and I didn't really get along when we were growing up. The only time we could stand each other was when we were united against Kendall. But when I moved an hour and a half away to attend college, our relationship changed almost immediately. We became more than siblings; we were friends...and still are.
Our conversations run the gamut from the hilarious to the serious. Chance and I talk about King of Queens (our favorite sitcom) and basketball, family and lost loves. We've called each other in the wee hours of the morning, when we just needed to talk or when Chance needed to know how to spell a word (which just happened last week).
On my way back to Tipton (my tiny hometown) every few weeks, I stop by and see Chance, usually at Lowe's, where he works. If I have to ask where he is, no matter who I ask, they always know who I'm talking about. Chance just has a way of making himself known. And if you know him, you can't help but love him.
Since I only get to see him every few weeks, texts, Facebook, and the occasional late-night phone call have to suffice between visits. I don't want to be the annoying older sister who's always checking up on her baby brother, so I refrain from texting or Facebooking him every day. But I hope he knows how much he means to me and that I'm incredibly proud of him and proud to be his sister.

Is It Friday Yet?

I could tell it was Monday from the minute I woke up to my blaring alarm clock. I vaguely remember accidentally hitting some button when I set the alarm last night, but nothing happened at the time, so I thought nothing of it. Apparently it was the volume button, and it was turned ALL the way up. Waking up to Britney Spears screaming in my ear was not the most pleasant way to start the week. After getting my heartbeat back to normal, I crawled out of bed and trudged groggily to the bathroom. While I was drying out my toothbrush holder (it had gross dried gunk in the bottom, so I rinsed it out with hot water), it flew out of my hand and shattered on the tile. Are you kidding me? I thought and set about cleaning up the bits of broken porcelain. By the time I had cleaned up the mess, I was running ten minutes later than usual. I wake up at the last possible minute, so I had my doubts about making it to work on time.
In addition to my bathroom butterfingers, my hair refused to cooperate. This is nothing unusual, but on this already-doomed Monday, my hair's stubbornness put me in a pretty foul mood. So it ended up in an unflattering bun/knot thing. But I had spent too much time attempting to coerce it into submission, so I was still running late. I pulled into the parking lot at work just two minutes after 7:00, though. As I was waiting for my computer to boot up and arranging my desk for the day, I realized I had forgotten to bring breakfast. So I had a difficult choice to make: whether or not to risk the Fiber One bar. Those cardboard-no-delicious-yes granola bars are deceiving. They do taste delicious, and nothing like cardboard. But if you've ever had one, you know what the fiber eventually does to you. I was famished, though, and knew I'd never make it till lunch without some calories in my system, so I went for it.
I experienced no side effects from the Fiber One bar and thought my Monday was turning around. Then came lunchtime. I ran to Walmart so I wouldn't have to go after work and picked up a new toothbrush holder. As I was placing my items on the checkout counter, my not-yet-paid-for toothbrush holder jumped out of my hands. Yep, another one. It bounced a couple times, and I thought, Oh good, this one's gonna make it. I was wrong. Another shattered toothbrush holder. I profusely apologized to the cashier, flushed with embarrassment and anger at these toothbrush holders that just would not stay in my hands today. I finally made it out of the store with an intact toothbrush holder and lots of chocolate.
After work I went to the Cox store to trade in my regular ol' cable box for a DVR. That's right, folks. I am now part of the modern world. I'm most excited about being able to rewind TV shows and the sports I watch. I can create my own replays now. When I got the fancy silver box home, my technology ineptitude slapped me in the face. I couldn't hook this box up to save my life. The boyfriend was at work and lives half an hour away anyway. Being the sweetheart he is, he was willing to come hook it up for me when he got off, but being the sweetheart I am, I didn't want to make him waste his gas just for my lack of general cable-box knowledge. Luckily, the bestie, Jennifer, and her husband were out and about and offered to stop by. In an embarrassingly (for me) short amount of time, Evan had it working. Just when he thought he was going to get to go home, I asked him to take a look at the flying saucer that had blown off my roof and landed in my driveway over the weekend. The flying saucer is actually an attic vent (or something), but it's large, metal, and looks completely foreign to me. Since I don't have a ladder, Evan climbed the fence and somehow made it onto the roof, while Jennifer, Reed (her adorable almost-one-year-old), and I sat outside and enjoyed the warm weather. Poor Evan was on the roof at least fifteen minutes, but he eventually fixed me up. If he hadn't fixed it for me, the next time it rained (whenever that may be), water would have leaked in and created a lovely water spot on my ceiling.
Although I started out with a case of the Mondays, a visit from my best friend and her wonderful little family quickly turned that around. Whether I need home repairs, baked goods, or just some girl time, I know I can count on Jennifer. (Evan and Reed are good for the home repairs [and baked goods even, believe it or not], but they tend to stay out of mine and Jennifer's girl time.)

Home Sweet Home

One year ago today I made one of the biggest decisions of my adult life: I bought a house. I had spent weeks looking at houses with my realtor, saving money like crazy, and stressing about whether or not this was the right decision for me. Should a twenty-three-year-old single girl really buy a house? I asked myself (and my friends and family) numerous times. After a couple minor panic attacks, I went through with it. One year later, I can honestly say that yes, this now twenty-four-year-old made the right decision. That said, today is mine and my house's one-year anniversary. To celebrate this special occasion, I will share with you a few things I learned in my first year of homeownership.

1. The definition of escrow: I had heard all about mortgages, homeowner's insurance, escrow, blah, blah blah. But did I have any idea what all these words meant? Not really. When I saw the breakdown of my mortgage payments for the first time, though, and realized a good chunk of my monthly payment was going to interest and escrow (and a small chunk, more like a crumb really, was going to principal), I figured I should find out. Apparently the money in my escrow account is what my mortgage company uses to pay my homeowner's insurance. I recently had to renew my homeowner's insurance, and I realized I really like this escrow thing. My mortgage company does the work for me. Anything that creates less work for me is A-ok in my book.
2. Shopping around for homeowner's insurance = no fun: A few weeks ago I got a non-renewal notice from my home insurance company. They informed me that they were reducing their business in areas most exposed to frequent and exposed weather. As evidenced by yesterday's outbreak of tornadoes and today's incredibly high winds, Oklahoma falls into that category. So essentially, they decided not to insure those people who just might need it. I began researching insurance companies and made the mistake of putting my phone number on the quote application. I was immediately inundated with phone calls from several different insurance companies. Luckily, my Sunday school teacher is an insurance agent and helped me out. He got me squared away, so if my house blows away today, I'm covered.
3. My dog is a great roommate: In college I lived with my best friend, Jennifer, and we had the time of our lives. But since she's married (and was with child at the time I bought my house), I figured living with her was out of the question. I didn't think I'd be able to live with another girl, and I wasn't so keen on living with a guy I didn't know, so I never even considered a human roommate. A little help with the bills would be nice, but I actually love living on my own, with only a canine for company. I can sing in the shower when I want...er I mean, if I were to ever do something so embarrassing, which I wouldn't, of course. Ahem, moving on. I can eat ice cream for dinner without fear of judgment (although I know Jennifer would never judge me for that; she'd join in). And I can do the 30-Day Shred without fear of some unsuspecting person walking in on me and being forever scarred...or getting blackmail material. Living on my own is really quite nice, except after watching Criminal Minds. But I know Deuce will scare away any potential burglars...either that or lick them to death.
4. You have to mow your yard: I didn't give that a single thought when I decided to buy a house. I knew I'd be responsible for repairs and home maintenance. I knew I needed to call all the utility companies and start new service. But never once did I think about the fact that I'd have a front and backyard to mow. I'm not entirely sure why this never crossed my mind, but I have a sneaking suspicion it may stem from the fact that I've never mowed a yard. I was actually always a bit scared to try for some reason. Something about an irrational fear of the lawn mower turning against me and cutting off my feet. But anyway. When my grass was about waist high (well, that's what it looked like in comparison to my neighbors' perfectly manicured lawns), I decided it was high time I did something about my unsightly yard, so I hired a lawn service. Yet another bill. Winter's only redeeming quality is the fact that I don't have to pay someone to cut my grass.
5. I can be the independent woman Destiny's Child sang about: I never thought I'd be okay with living alone. I never dreamed I'd actually enjoy it. I've always been a very dependent person. When I found myself single and in need of a new place to live, I was forced out of my comfort zone. And it was the best thing that could have happened to me. I had to learn to do things on my own. I had to learn to be on my own. And now, one year later, I am happier than I ever thought I would be.

The last 365 days have been days of learning and growth. I'm certainly not done learning and growing, but I've come a long way. I mean, I bought a freakin' house! I can do anything! Except mow a yard, apparently.

A Bikini Body and a Bubble Bath: Week One of the Thirty-Day Shred

Ten gallons of sweat, innumerable grunts and "I hate you, Jillian"s, and four long, hot bubble baths later, I have completed my first week of Jillian Michaels' Thirty-Day Shred. I'm not entirely sure what shredding my body means, but I can only surmise that it will leave me looking bathing-suit ready in just one month...either that or just incredibly sore and ready to sue Jillian for unfulfilled promises.
I first heard about this excruciating workout from a friend at work who's getting married in a little over a month. I figure if she trusts Jillian, so can I. I probably should have taken into account, though, the fact that this friend was already in way better shape than I can ever dream of being. But all I knew was that counting calories alone was not cutting it for me. This girl loves her some food, especially sugary, salty, fried, and generally heart-attack-inducing foods. Forty-five minutes of zumba four times a week just wasn't burning enough calories to account for my love affair with food, so I knew I needed a new challenge. Thus the "thirty-day shred/zumba/now-I-can-eat-whatever-I-want-because-I'm-burning-more-calories" fitness plan was born.
I came home from my weekly shopping trip with the DVD that was going to change my life, a set of hand weights, and an eagerness to exercise. That eagerness quickly disappeared with the first circuit. (This workout utilizes Jillian's 3-2-1 approach: 3 minutes of strength, 2 minutes of cardio, and 1 minute of abs. There are three circuits total.)
The first strength move is push-ups, which I have never been able to do. I can barely do girly push-ups. After struggling through about ten modified push-ups and the rest of the strength routine, we moved on to cardio, which involved jumping jacks and jumping rope without a jump rope. Now this I could do. Although my thighs were screaming "Uncle!" I refused to rest, figuring that since I had half-assed the push-ups, I needed to make up for it and in the process, kill my thighs. Finally we were on the floor for abs. We did a few crunches, and all too soon it was time to get back up and begin circuit two. I have to do this two more times? I thought. I'll never make it.
But I did make it, and I felt great afterward. I did notice, however, that the two girls who do the workout with Jillian, and Jillian herself, looked nothing like I did when they finished. My hair wildly framed my face like a lion's mane, my tank top was soaked with sweat, and I was breathing like a smoker who has just climbed twenty flights of stairs. Jillian and her cronies looked like they were ready for round two.
All I wanted was to sink into a steaming bath, but that would have to wait until after zumba. Monday-night zumba's dances are full of squats and lots of jumping, so surviving the class was a miracle in itself, considering the fact that my thighs shook with each step. I just knew they'd give out on me and I'd collapse in front of the entire class. But luckily, that didn't happen.
Immediately upon arriving home, I ran that scalding bath. I poured in two capfuls of bubble bath, turned on the soothing music of Adele, and let the hot water work its magic on my incredibly sore limbs.

By day three, I was finally able to walk normally again and lower myself into my chair at work without disturbing my coworkers with my grunts of pain. Level one did eventually get easier, so I did level two today. I may never make it to level three, but at least I made it out of level one.
With each lunge, squat, and dreaded push-up, I envision the abs my brother promised I would acquire if I stick with this workout. And then I promptly immerse myself in a much-needed bubble bath.

An Anniversary to Remember

Friday, April 1 marked half a year that Randel and I have been dating. And if the next six months fly by as quickly as the first six did, I'll be writing a one-year anniversary post before I know it. I've never celebrated monthly anniversaries, but I'm glad my boy chose to make our half a year as a couple special. Although I didn't wind up with bling on my left hand like some friends who shall remain unnamed (ahem, Maura and Dawna) predicted I would, I had a great six-month anniversary weekend.
Because he's such a sweetheart, Randel let me pick whatever restaurant I wanted for dinner Friday night. Girls fancier than me might have chosen The Melting Pot. Girls with more mature palates than mine may have gone with sushi. But me? I went with our old standby, Zio's. My love affair with this Italian restaurant may or may not have anything to do with their delicious bellinis.
Randel arrived at my house to pick me up a little after six. I thought I was having a bad hair day, but he told me I looked beautiful. Along with putting up with my ADHD dog every time he comes over, this is one of the things I love about Randel. He always tells me I'm pretty. Even when my hair is thrown up in a messy ponytail and my makeup is twelve hours old. I don't expect him to feed my ego, but it is nice to hear, especially on those days when we're lounging around in sweats and I really am having a bad hair day.
But back to the date. We got to Zio's around seven and only had a ten-minute wait before we were seated and I could gorge myself on fresh bread and a bellini. Because of this pre-dinner noshing, I could only force down a few bites of my scrumptious vodka chicken. But that was okay by me, because that gave me leftovers for lunch on Monday. I also wound up with Randel's leftovers of pepperoni chicken, which gave me Tuesday's lunch.
When we got back to my house, we settled in to watch Be Kind, Rewind, which Randel had gotten from Netflix, per my request. I had heard from a couple friends that it was a pretty cute, funny movie, so I figured I needed to see it. It stars Jack Black and Mos Def, and I thought I would laugh a lot more than I did. Maybe I was overtired. Maybe I was overly stuffed on Zio's delicious fare. But whatever the reason, I couldn't finish the movie. I had also heard that it was worth watching at least once, so I plan to give it another try...after a nap and on an empty stomach.
Now fast forward to Sunday afternoon. Randel got free tickets to see the Bricktown Brawlers (OKC's very own arena football team) play the Colorado Ice. When we got to Bricktown, we parked at Harkins (because it's free and because I needed the exercise after my hearty brunch of pancakes) and walked the however-many blocks to the Cox Convention Center. We were a little early, so we got some drinks, found our seats, and then leisurely walked around the building. Our time-wasting took all of ten minutes. Opting not to make the rather boring circle around the arena again, we went to our seats for the thirty-five-minute wait for kick off. We passed the time by Facebooking, playing Words with Friends (okay, that was more me), and people watching.
The game finally started, and the Brawlers were off! They quickly scored their first touchdown, after which the scoring player (I have no idea who he was) spiked the ball into the crowd. It came pretty close to our section, so after that, I became obsessed with catching a free ball. Randel and I also spent the entire first quarter obsessed with figuring out where the random trombone sound was coming from. A large, shiny instrument should be pretty easy to spot, right? Especially in a crowd of fewer than 1,000 (that's just a guess). But no.
Sometime in the second quarter, I finally figured out why we couldn't find the elusive trombone. There wasn't one. People with these long red horn-like things were blowing into them and making the sound. With that mystery solved, we could devote our full attention to the game.
It stayed pretty close until the beginning of the fourth quarter, when the Ice scored twice and the Brawlers never came back. A loss and the fact that I never did get a free football was a bit disappointing, but the game itself was fun.
After the game, we finished off the weekend with dinner at Chili's, where I scored Wednesday's lunch.
All in all, Randel and I had a busy but fun weekend. It's always nice to get out of the house and do something out of the ordinary. Luckily, Randel was on board with my plan to do something fun and different every weekend this spring and summer, so we've got several more exciting dates tentatively planned for the upcoming weekends. Money, or a lack thereof, will be the only obstacle in our way. So we are currently accepting donations. Using our last names, I have come up with the name Lucky Rose for our "foundation." We accept cash.
And now for a picture of me and my boy: