My colleague, Amanda, who I call Mandy-Pants, has bestowed a new nickname upon me. Instead of calling me Boo, she calls me Burberry. I'm not sure why she associates the Burberry label with me, but would like to consider it a generous commentary on my sense-of-style and my love of fashion. Although I don't own any Burberry clothing or accessiories, I embrace and appreciate the nickname just the same. 
our Turkey Day baby. Twenty-eight years ago, while my Mother was preparing Thanksgiving dinner for Dad and I, Josh decided to join us. Mom insisted Dad run the unfinished turkey and I to the Godfrey's before taking her to the hospital. Dad tried to dissuade her, but my Mother was insistent, and anyone who knew my Mother, also knows she usually got what she wanted.
On Wednesday, November 19th I celebrated my six month anniversary. When I left Washington in May I anticipated I would only be in Biloxi for three months. I was informed, upon accepting my deployment, that if my supervisor was pleased with my performance I would have the opportunity for an extension.
A few weeks ago I posted a blog in anticipation of Halloween and a love reading I received almost two years ago. To satisfy the curiosity of those who may be wondering what the holiday yielded I am a little disappointed to admit my status as a single adult has not change. Mr. Right did not appear promising to change my life forever. Instead, I received a telephone call from my Uncle Jerry saying that my Aunt Nancy passed away. 
Looking through the photos I have scanned, since my Mother's passing, I noticed I have more photos of my Mother and Nancy together than I do of my Mother and I. Despite the thirteen month age difference between them, many often mistook them for twins.
Nancy was tall and slender with darker hair while my Mother was shorter, fluffier and blond.
Following my Mom's death, Josh, Lauren, Dad and I discovered letters Nancy had written to my Mom when they were younger. Reading them aloud was a bittersweet experience. I think Josh said it best, "The hardest part about life is living after those we love die." I couldn't agree more.
Although Nancy and Jerry never lived close to us, they would often visit. I remember the first Christmas present I received from them; a Snoopy piggy bank. I thought it was the coolest thing ever. In fact, I still have it; cracked head and all. 
Unlike my Mother, my Aunt Nancy had been suffering from a terminal illness for years. Battling the final stages of Huntington's disease, we realized Nancy's time was short. No one, especially her children, ever expected my Mother would proceed Nancy in death. We worried how Nancy's death would affect my Mother but never, ever assumed she would be the first to leave.
In response to Steph's birthday request, I baked my favorite cookies made from Lehi Roller Mills pumpkin chocolate chip cookie mix. Yummy! I love you Fall! I love you LRM!
It's posted on my other blog. But here are the basics.
Tomorrow I'll be 31. I'm wildly depressed. What helps depression? Eating, of course.
SO!
This is a call to eat. Tomorrow, eat one thing (or several) that you love. Take a picture and then share it. Email, blog, whatever.
But I want people to eat and enjoy themselves to honor that I am OLDER THAN DIRT.
Go forth and eat, folks. I demand it of you.
is the Bond girl I aspire to be.
Last night my new friend Ben called and invited me to the Phil Vassar concert at the Hard Rock Casino. In fifteen minutes, I changed clothes, applied makeup, participated and completed two phone conversations and found a parking space, which wasn't easy, setting a record in my book. 
Walking in I found a room full of energy. Ben and I had a blast singing and dancing along with the crowd. When the band covered AC/DC I went crazy. I love "You Shook Me All Night Long" and become an absolute maniac on the dance floor when I hear it. Instead of being impressed, Ben just laughed at my killer dance moves.
The concert ended much too soon so we decided to do a little shopping at the Hard Rock and then grab a late bite at the "Awful House." One of the things I appreciate about Ben is he's from Georgia and, as a fellow Southerner, recognizes the Waffle House is an important institution in the South and unlike McDonald's, which closes at midnight, stays open 24-7. Since hanging out Ben and I have actually closed a McDonald's. 
Our waitress was terrific! She was extremely patient with me and totally took my side when the chef said the hash browns were exactly what I wanted. NOT!
Tonight I used credit card receipts located in my interior wallet pocket, good thing I didn't clean it out, to wipe my bebope. You may now call me the McGuvyer el bano.
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