MY STATS. LET ME SHOW YOU THEM

So there's this:

Totally impressive, right? I knew injecting the phrase "Justin Bieber" in each and every post would get me more google hits!

Now, I'm no statistician, but I'm pretty sure this makes me Audrey Turner, Internationally Read and Enjoyed blog-artist.

To all my readers, near and abroad:

or, You stay Classy, Universe.

In other news, I woke up to 27* weather this morning, and by lunch time, it was 60*. There's nothing more that wrecks havoc with my mood swings than spring time weather in winter. Not in a good way either, the way you think it would. It's just another episode of Adventures with Audrey's Inner Goth Kid!

And now, back to writing!

Re-Arranging Thangs

This weekend consisted of me sorting, organizing and rearranging things.

Oh, and on Friday, buying things on my lunch break. But I blame that on my office manager being a bad influence on me. Definitely not blaming the beer we had at lunch.

I scored this adorable dress:

tea pots! and pockets!

and these awesome vintage boots:

BOOTS!

And since I spent the last of my Christmas money, I decided I'd make up for it by writing all night on Friday.

But first, I had to re-tool Mary's save the date card. And then I had to pick up around the cellar. And then I had to take a shower and paint my nails and run to the grocery store and change the oil in my car and vacuum under the fridge and finish the 800 million tasks I always find looming whenever I decide I'm going to sit down and write.

And in the midst of all the cleaning, Addie decided he wanted to rearrange the furniture by switching writing nooks. This was mostly a case for inspiring a sudden burst of creativity. However, this might also have the opposite effect, so we'll just have to see.

So we spent all last night and most of today cleaning up from re-arranging.

And I've been watching The Only Way to Essex, which is like Jersey Shore meets The Hills and set in England. (i.e., awesome.) and Portlandia and Downton Abbey. Pretty solid TV viewing.

We also broke out Addie's deep fryer, and were choked out of the cellar by obnoxious frying fumes.

But totally worth it for deep fried oreos.

you are so odd looking. and so delicious.

And Addie perfected his Audrey impersonation:

"I'm Audrey and I wear head scarves and earrings and I read and I have a Fancy Computer"

"I eat Ramen so much I keep it in my office oh wait let me read this to you and tell you a story about it I'm Audrey"

Jerk.

But speaking of ramen, I just made some, and after two bites I determined that it definitely tasted like soap.

So disappointing.

Posts From the Edge

Today at work was a particularly disheartening, soul ripping experience that makes me want to throw a chair out the window.

I was hired to do a marketing job. But today, it was made abundantly clear that I am nothing more than a personal assistant/Boss defuser. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I felt like I was actually doing something, or learning something. But what I'm doing is digging around for paper work that's been mis-filed 4 years ago. And what I'm learning is how to panic whenever a problem comes up because if I take initiative, I'll get fussed at for doing it wrong and if I wait and ask for instructions, I'll get fussed at for not taking initiative. 

I've even grown to tolerate my boss, with his mood swings, his wildly inappropriate stories and comments, his bull-headed conservative views, his intense judgement, his tangent jumping segue-less speeches and his love for calling us in for meetings that revolve around looking at pictures of Stevie Nicks. And I love my coworkers--they're completely the shit and always make my day better.

But the pointlessness of the job has put a lot of wear and tear on me. After seven years and three job changes, I'm done with being an assistant in a field I have no interest in working in.

But then again, it's a better paycheck than most anything I could be doing around here. And as long as I have student loans, that will be my shining motivation to keep going in.

And speaking of student loans, I had a terrible dream last night that someone I went to college with wrote an article on how student loans were destroying the nation's economy, so Sallie Mae sent notice to all their loan holders saying the balance on all loans would be due within a week. I was a pot bellied pig farmer, and I was thusly forced to sell off all the piggies I had to a slaughter house because I didn't have enough money to pay all my loans. I had to load all the baby pigs into this skeezy truck, and they were all wearing sweaters for some reason (probably because they were babies and I LOVED THEM). All the while this group of people just stared at me like I was evil. 

GUYS I WAS HURTING THIS.

It was so sad. I woke up feeling so sad. And I felt guilty until lunch time. So sad.

This weekend will be one of those Audrey Vows to Move Her Life into the Awesome Lane Weekends.

Also, I've officially had my bangs for a week and I still can't get them to look as good as the stylist did. Wah.

First Mice

There are mice in the cellar.

Addie's mice.

And...

they're surprisingly, astonishingly adorable.

Introducing Michael Noodle (solid) and Michael Fruit (white spots)!

Addie had pet mice while he was in college, and has been talking about getting some pet mice since we moved in. And, being of sound body and mind, I said no. Because pet mice are roughly the same size and speed of the mice that I'd find dead behind my bed or in my shoes when my parents rented that 1800's era farm house off the Manassas battlefield.  Also, see: my irrational mouse fears.

"No fucking way. No mice." was my response.

But, I finally caved under the conditions that he get an escape proof cage and that I never have to interact with them.

And while I was busy holding the puppies that I am in no physical, emotional, or financial place to own but was 100% adamant that I deserved and was obligated to rescue (I even tried to justify it by telling myself that buying a puppy when I can't adequately provide for it would be something scary that I'd do that day), Addie picked out two new buddies and we went home.

Once I saw them playing together and running around, my heart totally softened. I even held Noodle for a good 15 seconds before I started shuddering uncontrollably.

mice are really hard to photograph

buddies!

Noodle was the first to figure out the wheel and is now obsessed with it. Fruit is like, yeah, that's stupid. I love Fruit.

I mean, seriously. How is this not the cutest fucking thing?

MOUSE CUDDLES

So yeah, I'm slowly getting used to mice. It doesn't help though, that the only memory I have of pet mice is the time I woke up and found one of Shayne's floating in its water dish when I was really little. And the first time even one of these guys gets loose is the first night I stay in a hotel.

Also, Bart has been mostly oblivious toward them, except for one instance last night, when he completely lost his shit. Like, we might as well have had a cage full of Reese Trees and Beefy Sticks  for how enthusiastic and rabid he was about getting to it. We have since put the mice in a safe zone.

But, knowing Engineer Bart... we'll see how long the safety zone stays intact.

And, just for funsies, we stuck Bart in socks, which made him the saddest Dog in the world:

haha, it was like watching an AT AT walker when we finally convinced him to get off the futon. I think I laughed for a good 20 minutes.



And, completely unrelated to pets, I attempted my mom's potato soup last night. This is what it looked like before I put too much stock in it and made it less potato soup and more soupe toscana. :/

Still edible, just not the heart warming potato soup from my child hood. Next time, I'll do better.

OH, and speaking of getting better, my co-worker's husband, aka the Professional Chef and Restauranteur, gave me a vegetable chopping lesson. And I'm totally kicking ass at chopping veggies. (and, thanks to my mom, I have a zippy new automatic veggie chopper for the onions, so I don't burn my eyes out anymore. yay!)

I'm still doing little things that terrify me everyday. They're little, moral victories, but they're still good ones. Like, styling my hair myself and taking it out in public, approaching someone I have been too nervous to talk to for the last few years, holding a mouse, making potato soup, giving away clothes that are ruined with age, and wear and tear but that I love and need anyway, cutting vegetables in front of strangers. I've been doing well.

Hey--maybe I will reward myself with that puppy!*


*no, I won't. This is a terrible idea.

2nd Guest Blogger!

I'm like, right in the middle of a short story that's burning its way through my head, so today's blog is written by my dear friend and favorite neurotic Australian transplant, Odie:

Odie

The thing I love about Odie, besides the fact that he looked like a Spanish Kramer when his hair was long,

KRAMER!

is that he's as quirky and awkward and emotional as I am, which makes for long winded conversations waxing poetic on everything from feelings to the importance of suit vests. He's the guy you can count on to pick up your drunk dial NO MATTER what he's doing or who he's with, the kind of guy who willingly makes himself the butt of jokes (and conversely, the guy who can KILL any joke, any time, anywhere), the guy who'd drive from Baltimore to Manassas just to hang out for a few hours. And he also does things like volunteer to write a guest blog when he knows I'm having a chaotic blog month. And I miss him now that he's literally on the other side of the world. 


And so, introducing: ODIE.

Worlds Apart, or how I moved to the other side of the planet and still manage to have similar experiences as Audrey K. Turner By Jason Hird

After mentioning the idea of writing a guest blog for Audrey, I had many ideas for content. Yet here I sit, attempting to start the entry, and I find the task more daunting than anticipated. The previous guest blogger, Mrs. T has a certain reputation (or at least had a few mentions in the blog), thus enabling you the reader to connect with that she is saying right away. However, I do not have that and as such you have no connection to me what so ever. Hmm.

Quick history: Audrey and I met in the 10th grade and became fast friends. We have been making inside jokes, sitting on a stoop, talking about life experiences over too many drinks, and passing out to Swingers while eating cocktail shrimp ever since. Now that we are a world apart, we get fewer life updates and the occasional failed skype call. This seems to only add to the jokery and insanity of our friendship, especially as I try to convince her to move to Melbourne for graduate school. But I'm not sure Mrs. T would be happy with me should aforementioned plan ever come to fruition.

I've been feeling a bit homesick over the past few weeks, but I don't miss home. I miss specific people, and in that way I'm more peoplesick (you can guess who made that one up). A little known fact about Audrey is that she secretly wants to be a well-read world traveler. This may be hard to understand because of past posts on such topics as Toddlers in Tiaras, 16 and Pregnant and Dance Moms. However, she does post about Where the Red Fern Grows, 1984 (I think I'm making that one up) and all things Stanley Kubrick. So as you can see, she is a very mixed bag. (*editor's note: Odie, no one on my blog can believe that I have aspirations to be a classy world traveler who reads things that aren't gossip rags. Nice effort, though :)

How this relates to being worlds apart and homesick, you ask? Well, I never thought of myself as the person that would move out of the state of Maryland long term, let alone the country long term, but, here I am in Sydney, Australia attempting to figure out a way to stay longer and longer. Leaving MD/VA and moving to New York has always been a long term goal for her and I assume that hasn't changed. She has traveled the country, been to cities far away, and has even been an international nanny. (Ask her about it sometime she will tell you more than you ever wanted to know about getting a free trip to Europe.) My goal remains the same as it has been for the last year, to live life with no regrets and get work in a field/industry where I don't have to wear a suit and tie to work every day.

Simple enough, easy enough? Hardly. Having to break my brain of cliches and standards that have been etched into them over the years is not easy, but it seems to be worth it, and part of this determination to make it happen comes from Audrey. She is always there with her dreams, shaking things up and making shit happen, taking life changes by the balls and squeezing them until someone cries. And that keeps me inspired to stay the course and keep things happening so as not to fall into a rut. (*editor's note: see, Odie, watching trash TV doesn't discourage your goals.) Even though we are not physically close to one another at this point in time, we still share an odd sense of humor, ability to cheer the other person up in tough times by cracking the odd sexist joke about one another.

I will raise a glass of wine to you as I watch Groundhog Day and eat cheese and crackers during a day off of work.

To my best friend, may the miles be many and the journey difficult, you will remain with me always.

Odie

Thank you, Odie. May we have many more years of taking weird pictures together:

First Bolognese and Bangs

"Do one thing everyday that scares you."

Thank you, Eleanor Roosevelt.

what a fox!

My only New Year's Resolution this year was live by this cliched refrigerator magnet saying, because, really, deep down, we all secretly love to live by cliched refrigerator magnet sayings (another good one:)

So far it's only been about 18 days into the new year and I've only lived by my resolution like, twice. I mean, believe me, there's nothing scary about hanging out on my futon in my fat pants watching John Adams, not showering, playing video games and drinking lattes all day. In fact, that's an Audrey Kinda Day.

So, yes. This week, I've been much better.

Monday, I engaged in a confrontation that had been weighing on me for a while, and the results were relatively positive. And that's all I can say about it in the blog world.

Tuesday, I decided, on a whim, to make the Bolognese sauce I've read about so many times on M Cubed, the blog written by my sister's god-brother's wife, Mandy (seriously). Mandy is a fellow English Major and crafting and cooking wunderkid who shares my strange, nervous affection for Nucky Thompson.

rrrmph.

I've been putting off making the bolognese because I didn't think I'd be able to make a meat sauce without my mom standing behind me and coaching me the entire time. But, on Tuesday, seized by strange motivation (and probably the fact that it was pay day and the fridge was empty), I trekked down to the super uppity Fresh Market and picked up all the ingredients. Addie was at work all night, and I was determined to be an adult and make adult food.

And except for a slight time-snag causing us to eat at midnight, (it helps to read the entire recipe, including cooking time, otherwise you might start chopping vegetables at 9 PM before you realize that the sauce simmers for 45 minutes. whoops.) the meal was victorious. I even made my own garlic bread. I am a champion.

I am also the world's slowest vegetable chopper. An hour into it, I realized I was using a bread knife, which might have been why it took so long. I am a champion. I also don't have a Dutch Oven (ahem, Mom), so I had to make due with a deep skillet. Champion.

90 minutes worth of effort. also, the onions burned my retinas into a crisp.

delicious simmering sauce

Julia Child

The station, complete with recipe board

finished product! With home made garlic bread bites

We both ate until we were incapacitated with food coma. It was glorious. I've never had bolognese with so many different flavors and levels of awesome. I also got a pro-tip from my brother Shayne, and added some paprika to the garlic bread mixture--and DAMN that's good. 

So yes, trying out a new recipe that actually involved effort was a delicious and empowering experience, and I want to keep trying new things. I need to remember how much fun it is to actually produce something. Well, fun and tasty.

Wednesday, otherwise known as today, I got a hair transformation.

I got bangs.

BANGS.

I haven't had real, undeniable, hanging just above your line of sight bangs since I was 13. This is quite the shock. But, I was in talented hands, the hair transformation was free (a sweet gift), and I am glad to have a completely new look for the first time since... maybe 2006 when I chopped it all off in a Victoria Beckham style inverted bob.

As soon as I saw the inches of dead blonde and red hair hit the floor, I started to miss it. And as soon as he made the first cut on my bangs, my heart stopped a little. I don't know why getting some face fringe was such a debilitating experience, but it was. And I absolutely don't recognize myself anymore. But it's slowly growing on me. Literally and metaphorically.

Before and After

saying goodbye to the White Trash Lion's Mane

the salon's mascot, Schwartz

Also, the pool is starting at $5 that I won't be able to get my bangs decent looking on my own.

STAY TUNED!


Also also, coming up tomorrow, a guest blog from my dear buddy Odie.

And, CHECK OUT MY MOM'S BLOG!

Weekend Nerdery

This weekend took a turn for the Nerd when, on Friday, I found all 8 Harry Potter movies and the John Adams mini-series, both on bluray, and both on SERIOUS sale.

So yeah, this is what 90% of my weekend consisted of:

It was glorious.

Little known fact: I'm a giant Early American History nerd. And this past week I did some random fact-checking on Teddy Roosevelt, which somehow generated a wild urge to watch John Adams (probably because there is no Teddy Roosevelt HBO mini-series). And when I found it on sale for almost $40 off, it was basically just A SIGN FROM THE UNIVERSE that I needed to waste my entire Saturday happily nerding it up Early American History style. And while watching it, I spent a lot of time wishing I had been a history major and lamenting the fact that I sold all my text books (you know, because I really wanted something less practical than my English degree).

While trying to space out John Adams, I spent a good amount of time reading random books and getting caught up on season 2 of Archer. 

This show is so, so good. My dad and I watched the first season, (which was only mildly uncomfortable, considering my straight-laced, conservative, Baptist-raised father was laughing louder at the vulgarities than I was) but I missed season 2 for probably a handful of really below average reasons. However. Season 2 is pretty badass. Archer is basically Arrested Development set in a top-secret Spy organization. Basically, awesome.

But episode 4 had a reference to Where the Red Fern Grows that was so random and obscure and sad that I laughed for a good 10 minutes. The man who owns the air boat that Archer and Lana commandeer notices that his dog is dead, and cries out, "Oh, Annie, no! Now both my dogs are dead!"

And then they pan back to this shot:

And you can sure as shit believe that after I stopped laughing, I ran to the bookcase and fished out my ancient copy to re-read the good parts.

hey hey, stolen book from my 3rd grade media center!

3rd grade vandalism!

And of course, I sobbed my g-damn eyes out. AGAIN. This book has been making me sob since 1993. [omg that's almost 20 years D:] The worst experience was at my friend Valerie's sleepover where all us girls took turns reading out loud the chapter where Old Dan and Little Ann die. We were all in hysterical sobs by the end of it, and had to be picked up and taken home. But, I defy anyone who's had a bond with a dog to read this book and not cry. It's intense.

However, I don't think this book would be such a trigger if the first time I read it wasn't within months of us putting down our blood hound, Molly. Which, while terribly sad, was most likely the start of my writing career, since I spent most of 3rd grade writing really creepy, sad stories about her. Come to think of it, we also read Black Beauty, Island of the Blue Dolphins, and Call of the Wild that year. That year was also the first time I saw The Fox and the Hound. No wonder I wrote so many stories about animals and death. 

Like I've said before, I was a weird kid.

Anywho! In summation:

If you haven't seen John Adams, and you're a big fan of history, watch it.

If you haven't seen Archer, and you're a big fan of quality humor, watch it.

If you haven't read Where the Red Fern Grows, and you're a fan of mid-day emotional break downs, read it.

Oh, and I set up a blog for my Mom this weekend. I can't wait til she starts posting. :D

And today, I went tromping through the Blue Ridge Mountains, which, if today's experience means anything, consist of nothing more than poplar trees and clearings full of briar bushes. My legs are all scratched up and my jeans are ruined :( But, it was fun to get out and hike and climb hills.

First Guest Blogger!

Long time, no substantial post!

I've been getting a lot angry feedback from my public about my lack of posts, but I'm really, really busy doing really, really important things like sleeping and watching Dance Moms and researching colonial America and reading American Psycho for the tenth time. You know, serious business.

I'm also in the middle of 2 or 3 writing projects and some lifeshit, so I'm a bit overwhelmed and just don't know what to blog about.

HOWEVER. My mom has been riding my heiney lately about not blogging. For the last week, I've been getting gentle to seemingly violent "nudges" full of ideas for the ol' blog. And I've countered everyone of them with "don't tell me how to live," or, "stop encouraging my dreams," or, "I don't know how to write about silver flatware," and finally, "mom, start your own blog."

So she finally took my advice, and sent me a piece! And I'm totally putting it up here. So, without further ado, the story of how I came into this world!

Write Your Blog by Kim Turner

I have been anxiously waiting for a new addition to Audrey’s blog.  It is an interesting way to keep up with my baby daughter whilst she is out having her adventures.  AND it isn’t as creepy as stalking her on Facebook.  (Young adults really should call home more often…)

Yes, Audrey is our baby. The entire family's baby. LT and I had her after we both agreed that we had had enough children.  And our then current children concurred with our plans.

It was a cold snowy day when I called my friend Sue and told her that I just wasn’t feeling good. She sighed and said "um, maybe you’d better go on down and take a test." When I went in to get the pregnancy test results (the Army used to make you go in, In Person to get your results. I guess they wanted to see your face…), it was snowing even harder and LT and the kids were waiting in the lobby while this 800 year old Army nurse looked up the results for me and a Sgt So and So. "Turner – Positive!!” she barked, “So and So – Negative!!” The sergeant and I looked at each other in dismay and the nurse cackled, “you can’t trade!!” 

Audrey was due Sept 4th.  It was a planned c-section and I had a planned Amniocentesis for the week before that.  Somehow Audrey got wind of the situation and took matters in her own hands.  No one was going to jab needles that close to her OR use a scalpel in her general vicinity.  She was born two weeks early during a flooding rainstorm. And there was no c-section (editor's note: I'm a rebel. I keep shit real.).

LT says that I definitely should mention the traffic on 495 while my contractions were 5 minutes apart…(Traffic – a precursor to your adulthood), the trail of water I left going across Walter Reed's lobby (A lobby that you are VERY familiar with), and the calls to the NSA (each one more frantic), where LT was working.

I remember how tall he looked in his class A uniform; how he grabbed a young doctor by the shoulder and screamed at him to get me admitted; how I called Sue like 4 times that morning because I didn't realize that I was actually in labor (you were a planned section!); how I didn’t realize that you were born on the 13th til Gramps reminded me of it (our third baby born on the 13th!); how Sue went out and bought the frilliest dress she could find for you, and you wore it home because after LT got up, got 2 toddlers and Shayne dressed and out the door and to Sue’s in Manassas and then back to Walter Reed to pick Audrey and me up, he remembered that he left my suitcase at home (that’s how we now own a Walter Reed Scrub suit); and how nice it was to go to Sue’s and have a home cooked meal that night before we loaded everyone up and hit 66 and 495 and 295 on our way back to FT Meade.

But I mostly remember, while I was in recovery, I asked where LT was. The nurse came back and said that he was plastered against the nursery window, just staring at the baby. 

And we’ve all been watching Audrey ever since.  She is the baby that charmed her whole family.  She could (and does) get away with murder.  We wouldn’t have it any other way.


D'awww :) If you've ever wondered where I get my love for story telling, or my nack for details, quips, and sentimentality, you need look no further than my mom. She's fabulous--and one of my biggest supporters.



mom and me being super classy at Wolf TrapI d

Thanks for everything, Mom--I definitely don't say it enough!

More Irrational Fears

Maybe it's the slight fever I'm running, or maybe it's the emergency vicodin I took, or maybe even it's the fact that I'm alone in the basement, but I just heard a really "cute" hi-pitched voice talking about how we all needed to snuggle more.

Confused, I turned around to see the TV and make sure I wasn't inadvertently watching Nick Kids or something.

This was on, talking about snuggling in a high pitched voice:

...

When did the Snuggle Bear get so creepy?

I had to change the channel because I was so irrationally sketched out by the bear who wants only to make my clothes soft and snuggly and fresh smelling, and the next channel had the same commercial, in almost the SAME SPOT from where I changed it. And then I got back to my desk and saw that I have a bottle of Snuggle sitting by my computer desk. AND THE BEAR IS ON IT.

Literally my first thought was, I can't get away from this bear.

I was steps away from putting the bottle of snuggle outside before it occurred to me that I'm just a little brain fried right now and therefore prone to bouts of insanity.

It reminds me if when I was a kid. I was traumatized by the Child's Play movies, and for years I could only sleep if my light was on and if all my toys were lined up outside my closet so I could keep an eye on them. You know, in case they came alive and tried to kill me in the middle of the night. 

I was a weird kid.


Unrelated, I just heard a commercial for Cover Girl True Blend, and heard "Cover Girl True Blood" three times.


I think it's bed time.

First Night Alone

I'm back from Christmas/New Years vacation. It was entirely fantastic, if you don't count the part where we had to take my Grampa to the ER because we thought he had had a stroke D: (but he's fine! it was just a UTI, which presents itself with stroke symptoms in the elderly. Brains are terrifying.)

But Addie and Dog are still in Virginia, where they'll be until Saturday.

So what did I do with the place to myself and no one here to judge me?

Ate ramen, gabbed with Leah, watched Teen Mom while enjoying the spa foot bath that Shelby gave me, and read a gossip rag. Basically the same thing that I do every Tuesday night. I have no shame.

Maybe tomorrow I'll start watching my A Clockwork Orange blu-ray before Addie "Kubrick Kibosh" Singleton comes home and... well, puts the kibosh on it.

In other news, I've been off from work for what feels like a month, and I have absolutely no desire to go back.

Can it please ice at least 4 inches tonight, or let Hendersonville become engulfed in a huge blizzard? I just need another week of not doing anything except enjoying my time. And I think I got a little too used to spontaneous napping.

Plus, like, that Ikea bookcase I've been dying for isn't going to put itself together. And there's all those Christmas blu-rays I need to watch. This is important business.

Long vacations have a way of making me come back and feel like nothing is right, normal, or comforting.

Oh, that reminds me, my rent is due.

Which reminds me, my insurance is due.

Which reminds me: yes, I have to go work tomorrow, so I can go to the doctor and get antibiotics for my sinus infection.


[angry face]

better go ruffle all the bed linens and make sure no rapist spider crickets are waiting for me.

And, uh, I google image'd "rapist spider cricket" and this came up. I'll just leave it here.

Yeah.