This Is My Confession

As painful as it is for me to admit that I have a fault (because I know you thought I was as close to perfect as humanly possible), I have to fess up. I have an addictive personality. No, I'm not about to tell you I have a drug or gambling problem or anything quite that serious. I do, however, tend to become irrationally obsessed with certain things once they are presented to me.
My two most recent obsessions are fantasy football and Pinterest. I came to the conclusion that these are now full-blown addictions when I realized I had done nothing all day except repin every scrumptious-looking recipe, cute outfit, and seemingly simple DIY project and refresh my fantasy football page every two minutes (even though it clearly says at the top of the page that the page updates automatically and there's no need to refresh...in bold letters).
My obsession with FF began when my boss asked me a few weeks ago if I was going to go for it and play this year, making it sound as though last season I had promised to do it this year, although I have absolutely no recollection of such a conversation. Not wanting to look like a pansy, I said I'd do it. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. FF requires a lot of patience, time, and general football knowledge. While I do love the game of football, I couldn't tell you who won the Super Bowl in 1972, how many touchdowns Tony Romo threw last season, or when Terry Bradshaw came into the league (my mom probably could, though). However, with the help of my boss, furious fantasy football researching during the week, and a bit of luck, I think I'm doing fairly well for my rookie fantasy football attempt.
FF has shown me an unattractive side of myself, though, and I don't mean my right side (my left really is better, though). What FF has revealed to me is my unflattering competitive side. On a side note, I'd like to think that this, rather than my utter lack of talent, is the reason I never participated in team sports in high school. Pre-FF, I could spend an entire Sunday leisurely watching football, only caring how the Cowboys did. Now, though, I switch back and forth between all games that are on and, as I mentioned, irrationally check my scoreboard every couple minutes. And if my QB, Matt Schaub, happens to throw an interception, for example, I become ridiculously upset, to the point of contemplating sending a hit out on him. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration...but sadly, not much. Conversely, when he throws a touchdown pass, I get ridiculously excited, to the point of jumping up and down and pumping my fist in the air, Jersey Shore style, even though before this season, I could have cared less about Matt Schaub than I do about the diet of snails.
Today I have also spent a large amount of time on the awesome yet time suck of a website Pinterest. For those of you who don't know, Pinterest is an online collage of all the crafty projects you want to do, the Crock Pot recipes you want to make, the products you need (yes, need) to buy, places you need (again, yes, need) to go, etc. Rather than cutting pictures out of magazines and pasting them onto poster board, you repin pictures of those projects/recipes/places/anything else you can think of onto your online cork board. So when inspiration strikes, your ideas are all in one neatly organized place.
I have several boards, but none are so full as those of the craft projects I want to try and foods I want to make. Go figure. I've never been a DIY girl, but Pinterest makes me feel like I can turn a t-shirt into a pair of yoga pants, a skirt, or even a scarf. I plan to try making my own laundry soap and dishwasher detergent. And you can bet your boots I'll be trying my hand at this homemade wall art, using Styrofoam and fabric:

And as for the food, I don't even know where to start---four-ingredient Nutella cookies (that's right; I said Nutella), chicken nuggets that taste just like Chik fil A's (I'll be the judge of that, though), and an endless supply of winter-weather casseroles, soups, and stews I absolutely must try.
I know I'll never catch up on these projects and recipes, but maybe when I win the lottery, I'll be able to take some time off work and devote my time solely to becoming an impressively crafty gourmet chef. Or else a worried family member or friend will stage a Pintervention for me. Until then, at least I can admit I have a problem, right?

365 Days Later...

Yesterday, October 1, was mine and Randel's one-year anniversary. Go us!
He spent the week before figuring out where to have a fancy, romantic dinner, while I agonized over what to get him. The iTunes gift card I got him paled in comparison to the wonderful dinner he treated me to.

We started the night at Cheevers Cafe, by far the fanciest restaurant I've ever dined at. Oh, and did I mention we had reservations? So we weren't Randel and Ashley; we were "Rose, party of two."
The dining area was cozy and dimly lit, paintings by local artists adorned the walls, and the food was delicious. After hearing the specials--something about veal in a bacon butter sauce and halibut prepared too fancily for me to remember--I was a bit intimidated to order.

Lobster mac and cheese caught my eye, though. From years of watching Iron Chef and Next Food Network Star, I've seen my share of chefs prepare lobster mac and cheese. And the judges always "ooh" and "ahh" over it. Now, I'm not sure why I have always wanted to try it, seeing as how I'm not a fan of seafood. Maybe because of the pasta and cheese it's combined with. You just can't go wrong with pasta and cheese. In any case, when Randel said he was getting the molasses roast chicken breast, the other choice I was toying with, I decided I was going to go for it. I was getting the lobster mac and cheese.

Let me tell you, it was an excellent decision. Bowtie pasta smothered in a sinfully creamy cheese sauce, with chunks of grilled lobster, and finished with a crunchy breadcrumb topping. Bon appetit, indeed!
I, of course, tried Randel's food too,
 and it was equally delicious. I didn't care so much for the green beans--they were fresh, of course; I'm a canned girl, as wrong as that is--and the green tomato grits were...um...different. But that chicken! Simply delicious.

As wonderful as the food was, we couldn't eat it all, so we have leftovers!

After leaving Cheevers, we drove downtown and parked at the trusty Bass Pro Shop. Then we just walked around Bricktown for a while, holding hands and talking. Quite romantic, I thought.
We ended up at Drinkz, for, you guessed it, drinks. I'm not so big on the bar scene--smoky bars filled with loud, incredibly inebriated people--so Randel knew I'd be okay at Drinkz. We'll definitely go back. It was such a relaxing, chill atmosphere. There were maybe ten people there, they played fun music, and we seated ourselves in a cozy booth and just talked...and enjoyed our drinks--I mean drinkz--of course.

It was a perfect ending to a perfect anniversary with a nearly perfect guy. (I think it's considered blasphemy to call someone perfect, but he's pretty darn close.)

All dressed up...with somewhere to go.