Fire in the hole!

Oh, D-Day. The day I NEVER look forward. And nope, I’m not talking about June 6, 1944. I’m referring to my dentist appointment last week. I’m pretty sure some of the sounds I heard throughout my appointment, though, rivaled those of the Invasion of Normandy, especially the multiple f-bombs I mumbled to myself after the appointment was over.

We all have our idiosyncrasies and one of mine is part of the reason I hate going to my dentist. I’m petrified of the stairs that lead up to his second floor office. No lie. They’re the no-riser type stairs and they absolutely freak me out! The riser is the vertical board that connects one stair to the next and it’s that itty bitty one board that I find such comfort in. :) Here’s a pictorial for those like me that need a visual:




I know in my head they should be perfectly safe, but I can’t get over the fact that I feel like if I walk too hard or have that extra bite of cake at dinner, I might break one and fall to my death! Ugh. And because of this, I’m always faced with two options as I enter the building: do I run really fast up the stairs and to get to the top ASAP, or do I gingerly step on them in hopes of not putting too much quick movement on them? What to do, what to do…maybe find a new dentist??

And now that my anxiety level is soaring after finally making it to the second floor, why not push it completely off the charts by getting a cavity filled?! Joy. Here’s just a few highlights of the chaos that ensued:

• As I’m hearing the drilling, buzzing, and swishing around of water in my mouth, my dentist quickly stopped for a second to turn his head…..and sneeze. Ummm…yeah. Because I close my eyes the entire time I’m in “the chair” (even for cleanings) I don’t know how he sneezed. But I’m guessing it’s better I don’t know. Do you think he sneezed into his elbow like Obama and the H1N1 people want us to? Or did he sneeze into his latex gloved hand that returned to my mouth seconds later? Definitely better off not knowing…

• Once the shrill of the drill and accoutrements settled down for a second, all I could focus on was this weird ticking noise I could hear. No joke – sounded just like a ticking time bomb! This went on for the duration of the appt. Nothing like helping my anxiety, doc.

• As the pain got more intense I thought to myself, “Anne, don’t let this guy off easy!” So mainly because I had nothing better to do, I contorted what facial muscles I still had control of into what I thought would be the most gruesome look on my face to express my general displeasure of the situation. And it worked! I got an immediate “I’m sorry! I’m trying to hurry.” Gotcha! But just in case he was yanking my chain and he wasn’t hurrying, I kept my face contorted until the procedure ended. I may have just given myself a few extra wrinkle lines, but it was worth it. Two can play this game, doc.

• FINALLY, I was done. As I’m hurrying to gather my purse and get the hell out of dodge, the perky hygienist was all, “Go enjoy the sunshine!” and I’m all, “How about some cocktails instead?” I got a strange look and an awkward chuckle. Score.

Pity party of one, your table is now ready…

• And last, because my mouth/lips went through the Invasion of Anne for the previous 30-45 minutes, I went to put on some of my trusty Chapstick in the car. Bad part? My whole bottom half of my face was numb so I’m fairly certain I completely overshot my lips and got some cheek action, too. Sweet. I probably looked like this (minus the red color since mine was thankfully clear):

Note to self: Begin flossing more regularly IMMEDIATELY to avoid a repeat of this event.

~as

Safety glasses required

Nothing kicks off a Friday morning like jamming to some old school ‘NSync on the way to work. Oh yeah! And because blaring the classic tunes of Pop and Bye, Bye, Bye at ear piercing levels wasn’t enough, I added car dancing into the mix. I can only imagine what I must look like. Wait, what am I saying?!? I'm sure I looked awesome!!! Arms flailing and head bopping, I’m surprised my sweet moves didn’t cause a collision. Speaking of which, I better tame down my slick moves. I would hate to get arrested for being so sweet that I cause a distraction. (In all actuality, I’m more surprised that my uncoordinated ass doesn’t somehow manage to poke out my own eye…) Good times. Oh, and check out JT’s interesting apparel choice…ohhh, back in the days before all this Viking nonsense happened.




In other news, it’s that time of the month again. No, not THAT. Sickos. It’s the Blood Center of Wisconsin’s blood drive in our office building. Despite almost fainting on multiple occasions, I’m still a loyal giver. But as I walked past their entourage of gurneys, needles, and blood thirsty nurses this morning, I had to wonder:

Is it bad that 60% of the reason I donate is for the altruistic gesture of giving to others in need while the other 40% is because I salivate when thinking of the post-donation scrumptious chocolate chip muffins, soda, and other random goodies I will be given to bring my sugar levels back up to normal?

Nah. I’m 60% good! We’re a democratic society, right? Majority rules and non-donators drool.

And why do 80% of my postings revolve around food? Huh.

I went out last night for some good friends’ birthday. Yes, I said friends (plural) – they’re twins. And NO they will not have a twin sandwich with you nor have they tried to do the old switcheroo with one another ala Parent Trap style. Knowing them for as long as I have, even I am getting tired of hearing them field these questions. HA! Anyway, one thing I realized last night is that although I might be 30 years old now and not happy about it, I will always be younger than my friends. Suckers! Those dirty dogs gave me hell the first 21 years of my life for always being the runt of the litter. Now what’s up. I’ve finally got the upper hand. :) Other lesson? Sombreros are nothing but trouble.

Peace out for now, homies.

~as

Just a number? The jury's still out.

*tear* I’m thirty freakin’ years old. Jeez. I might as well make my “arrangements” now. I think eventually I’ll warm to the idea of being old as molasses, but for the moment it’s still an open wound.


Other birthday news? I didn’t chicken out! I chopped off about 6 or 7 inches of my hair! (See this post for details.) I meant to have another one or two inches chopped off, but my stylist stopped after hacking off that much. Either way, it totally worked out. So far, I’m really glad I went through with it. Now this might come as a shock to you all…brace yourself…but a lot of things I say I’m going to do don’t actually come to fruition. I’m a big thinker with big ideas, but I need to work on my follow through. Ha! Score one for Anne for following through on something I said I was going to do! :) Speaking of big ideas…

My get rich quick idea of the week? Well, it’s not really “quick” per say. I should write a book! (Insert your own eye roll here.) I like writing. Check. I would LOVE to get published. Check. Now I just need a good idea…hmmm…I knew there would be a roadblock somewhere. I’m going to ignore that roadblock much like I ignore my school loan debt. Hey, there’s a thought! My book proceeds could pay off my school loans! Score. After all, college is where I learned my mad writing skillzzzz. It would only be fitting, right? AND I could write it on my snazzy new laptop Eric just bought me for my birthday!!! Oh, book ideas…where are you???

P.S. – poor Eric. I think he knew he had to “go big or go home” with my bday gift this year. I was in a fragile state of mind this year with the whole turning ancient thing and whatnot. I think he knew my birthday happiness this year could definitely be bought. :) Solid choice with the laptop, Eric, solid choice.

~as

Is there a candy version of the Hamburglar???

The vendor du jour in our lovely office building that’s selling crap no one really needs is a candy and nut company. While completely unnecessary…completely delicious! From gummy bears to nuts to chocolate covered coffee beans, they’ve got it all. This, in my humble opinion, is by far the best vendor our building allows through the doors. And not because they sell food (which is one of my favorite things in the whole world), but because they give free samples!! The samples are clearly meant to lure victims, I mean customers, over to their lovely display of deliciousness. I, however, do not purchase from them. Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free? :) They have these wonderful little sample dishes set up in front of a ton of different selections just waiting to be devoured. And when I’m really lucky, they give out the crème de la crème - chocolate covered pretzels. Those little guys aren’t offered up very often so when I see those puppies, my taste buds smile.


I always have to chuckle at myself, though. I’m the girl that tries to play it off like there’s a chance I might buy something, but then decides not to at the last minute. This, of course, always occurs AFTER I’ve had a nice sampling of chocolate covered candies. Although the end result is the exact same – I sample for free without ever buying anything – for some reason I feel like I must put on the act. To just walk up, grab a sample, turn around and leave just feels so blatant. So I put on my act (which I’m sure the vendor gals behind the register have seen a million times), get my samples, browse like I’m interested, and then make my getaway when I think they’re distracted with other customers. It’s pretty much the most awesome plan ever. haha!

I’m fairly certain at some point in the near future my mug shot will be posted down near their display tables forbidding me to partake in the samples...

At times I do feel a little guilty for never buying anything. But then I realize, holy cow! Their prices are ridiculous! It’s about $8 for a small-ish bag of some of their goodies. Here’s a thought: Stop giving away so much stinking free stuff and that should help lower your costs thereby making the bags of candy more reasonably priced! Maybe then I’d actually consider buying some. Nah! Let’s be honest. I probably still wouldn't. ;)

~as

What month is it?

This past weekend Eric went out of town with a few friends and his brother to visit another friend in Ohio. What does that mean for Anne? A weekend of cleaning the house (and it actually staying clean), dishes promptly making their way to the dishwasher almost immediately after being used, and clean laundry being put away right after being folded. In a word, it was awesome. HA! Although…in all fairness, I tease him about the above few items every so often, but he’s not bad. He helps where/when he can and since I’m borderline OCD with my cleaning, I don’t mind taking the reigns in the cleaning department. :) Another sign of Eric’s absence? My regular presence at Baskin Robbins. Hehe! With no one to remind me of all the calories my favorite ice cream (Chocolate Peanut Butter) has, I took my opportunity to be “bad” and indulged. Yum!

While he was away, I couldn’t help but wonder if he took all the good weather with him, too. On Saturday there was a dry wind and it was about 68 degrees. Hmmm…I get so confused…was it August 22nd or September 22nd? Unfortunately, it was the former. Other signs it’s more like fall than summer? One of my favorite beers, Leinenkugel’s Summer Shady, is becoming increasingly difficult to find at local grocery stores. Boo. Looks like I’ll have to wait another nine or so months to taste the deliciousness again. Also, football is back. Nothing marks the end of summer like a good ‘ol football game!

The one upside of fall heading our way? Back to school sales! I’ve actually been pretty good with keeping my shopping to a minimum lately. Well, that is assuming you don’t count the new bedspread, sheets, decorative pillows, and window treatments I bought to redecorate our bedroom. Wait…what I was a saying about keeping it to a minimum? Crap. What happened was… :)

~as

Stop the madness!

Eric and I recently started watching the television show Friday Night Lights. I bring it up because I feel like the conversation around the proverbial water cooler today could be straight out of an episode in that show! Seriously…this topic would definitely ruffle the feathers of the beloved Dillon Panther fans. “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose!!!”



For those of you that have never watched the show, it’s centered around a small town (Dillon, Texas) and their all-star high school football team, the Dillon Panthers. The entire - and I mean ENTIRE - town lives and breathes by the Panthers. It’s actually a pretty decent show and I kinda wish I was Lyla Garrity, the head cheerleader character. HA! She’s so adorable and has an awesome name, except (SPOILER ALERT!) I would pass on the whole cheating on my boyfriend with his best friend part. Shady? Yes. Do I still love her? You betcha! <in my best Sarah Palin voice>

Anyway, I feel like I’m in Dillon, TX today. All anyone is talking about is Brett Favre and his possible return to football. And to the VIKINGS nonetheless! Ugh. Granted, I’m not pleased about this possibility, but frankly I’m getting a little sick of hearing about Favre. Just sayin… I’ll probably be in the crosshairs of a sniper on my way home from work for uttering that thought, but I’ll take my chances. :)

I don’t know if maybe I’m just not as hardcore of a Packers fan as I thought I was or if I’ve just been desensitized to it all, but I kind of feel like saying, “WHO CARES!” :) I mean, really! Trust me when I say I really do love football, especially the Green Bay Packers. I have countless fond memories of watching the games with my Dad growing up, numerous Packers parties with my friends as we rooted on our favorite team, and many chilly Sunday afternoons cuddled up on our couch with both Eric and I screaming at the TV as if they can hear us. Well, mostly me screaming and Eric looking at me like I’m nuts…

But at some point, don’t people just shrug their shoulders and say enough is enough?!? I do. I guess I can’t blame the fans, though. I pretty much blame Favre for jerking everyone around for the past two years. Just make a decision and stick with it! With a little luck, Favre will sign with the Vikings, we (the Packers) will dominate the league, and Packers fans can have some much needed closure. I’ve enclosed a brief letter to little ‘ol Brett:


Dear Brett Favre,

Please make up your friggin’ mind and let our state return to its normal conversations of beer, un-Godly long winters, and fried foods on a stick. Thanks much.

P.S. The Vikings suck! Slick move, chief.


Yours truly,

The entire state of Wisconsin

~as

Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

I’ve stumbled upon my newest, unattainable goal. Oh, and it’s interesting to say the least… Ready for this? I want to be a dancer!!! Yeah, pretty random. And not any old type of dancer. I want to be a hip hop street dancer. Boo-yah! Just saying it puts me in stitches...haha! :)

This is what happens on uneventful weekday nights with nothing to do or watch on the boob tube. Mid-week Eric and I decided to watch a movie and for some reason I won the privilege of selecting the movie du jour. Naturally, I selected Step Up 2: The Streets. I’m still baffled at how I managed to convince Eric to even download it for me. That in it of itself was a miracle alone! Usually he blocks such requests as he knows there will come be a time when I’ll try to convince him of the many reasons we should watch it together. That time was Tuesday night.

I’ve always had a fascination with watching people dance. Probably because I, myself, was born with two left feet. I often wonder why I couldn’t have had parents that passed on an ounce or two of rhythm. Is that so much to ask? :) From the fancy footwork to the teenage angst, I loved every second of the movie! So much so that Eric is now tortured every day with having to stop what he’s doing (“cuz I’m about to ruin…”) and watch the newest move I’ve either stolen from the movie or dreamt up in my head. Ha! All I can say is that my moves are getting increasingly worse with each passing day and I love it. Cracks me up every time! I’m pretty sure I could make myself laugh all day long. I seem to find such humor in the dumbest things, and believe me, my moves are pretty dumb. And unfortunately for my dance moves, dumb isn’t like “sick” is these days, meaning wicked cool, awesome, etc. etc. Dumb still means dumb.

I’ve also realized on my trek to becoming a dancing queen I need to get a hard body like the dancers in the movie had. Therefore, my equally unattainable goal is to do the P90x workout program. From what I’ve heard, it’s supposed to get results, but be extremely hardcore and intense. The military even offers P90x classes. Uh, if we’re talking military caliber sessions, I’m certain this won’t last long for me. :) I’ll be back to the couch in no time. And hopefully watching Step Up 2 again. Ha! In all seriousness though, I did the first day of the program so far. Yowza! I’m still sore and it’s three days later. We shall see how long this lasts…

In other unattainable goal news…once again, I set my sights high this past weekend. I was damn sure I was going to win the poker tournament I entered with Eric and 23 others. Bologne! I did not, in fact, win. Boo. I’m claiming discrimination. Good news? Eric won! Atta boy. Oh, and one win wasn’t enough for him. A select group of the entrants played another shorter tournament and you guessed it…big papa took that one down, too. Watch out, folks - we’ve got the next Doyle Brunson in the making! One day I’ll win…one day. Until then, I’ll likely continue to “donate” to the cause with the hope that my cash just come full circle and end up back in my hubby’s pocket.

~as