something but the past is done.

not sure about the future of this blog. 


my life has become resounding evidence of the old saying

"expectation is the root of all heartache."

& the least they ever gave you, was the most you ever knew

I know I said that I was going to revamp my blog, but I haven't yet. I will, though, I promise!!


So, for now, let's have a glimpse in the life of Amber:


I had my first encounter with a SICK fiance. For those of you who don't know, I have an insane vomit phobia. The thought of, sound of, sight of vomit pretty much sends me into convulsions & full on panic mode. Well, wouldn't you know it, Rob woke up this past Tuesday SICK!! I tried the best I could to "doctor" him up, but I was a nervous wreck and eventually it was so bad that he had to go to the hospital. Luckily, we have an amazing roommate who (a) did vomit duty & (b) drove us to the ER, since it was all snowy & icy & i don't know how to drive in those conditions. Thankfully, everything was fine, they gave Rob some medicine & he was ok & i didn't have a nervous breakdown.


I have an on campus interview next monday for that director of involvement job that i may or may not have mentioned earlier. Although I really had my hopes up for going back to Alabama, i know that i am being offered this opportunity for a reason and can't, in good conscience, let it pass me by, so if all goes well, then i will be the director of involvement at a very nice college in charlotte, nc. I am very excited :)


Wedding planning is getting on my flipping nerves, because nothing is going according to plan. We originally set the date for April 30, but Rob's mom is going on a cruise so we had to change the date. I started looking for venues around our hometown, to no avail, and places outside of our hometown are very much outside of our nearly non-existent budget. We then decided to plan a beach wedding, thinking it would be cheaper. Well, since I am about 12 hours away from the beach, I can't really do much, so I asked my mother (a former florist, wedding planning gurista) to help me since she is actually in the state in which the beach is located (Gulf Shores, Alabama), even though she lives a good 5-6 hours away from the beach. Well... turns out she has no idea what to do either and thinks I should just go back to looking for a place near home so the ball is back in my court. I'm really stressed, am clueless, and have no help. We still don't have a date (although I want to get married sometime THIS summer) or a venue and i am STRESSING out. I have NO idea how to plan a wedding!!


I have gotten fat. Ick. Like I've probably gained a good 15 pounds since graduating college (with most of the gaining occuring since I moved in with Rob) & I am NOT happy about it. I have no energy or motivation to exercise & I have no idea what to eat. Being unable to cook makes it even harder. Please, someone, help me. I need a guardian angel of fitness & nutrition to tell me what to do & to get me back on track because none of my clothes fit & I am MISERABLE!!


And Harley ate one of my boat shoes today. :(

oh make me over, i'm all i wanna be

ok, so... i've decided that i'm going to revamp my blog & my approach to it. 


i have decided that 25 is going to be my best year ever and this blog is going to document my quest to make it the best year ever. i'm super excited.


short post, i know, but good things come to those who wait ;) 

A penny for my thoughts, oh no I’ll sell them for a dollar

So...I really want this whole blogging thing to work. I want to write interesting posts. I want more than just Christine and Elizabeth to read it (although I love that you two read it!). I want to be relevant, so I'm thinking about doing a whole blog revamp. My perfectionism just keeps getting in the way.

At any rate, I have made myself breakfast for the past two days in a row. Granted, it was fried egg whites (somewhere between scrambled eggs & an omelet) and frozen waffles (which I cooked in the oven, as opposed to the toaster), it is a start. I've been helping Rob in the kitchen more, which has been nice. I had no idea when I moved in with him that he was such an amazing cook! We've kinda pinpointed my cooking issue(s): I am a very precise 1/2 c. this, 1 teaspoon of that, etc., which is why I enjoy baking. It is more objective; you add this, mix that, bake at this temperature for this long, and voila, but with cooking, it just seems so open to interpretation. Rob calls it "putting the what's-up on it," meaning that he just throws random stuff together (herbs, spices, sauces, etc) and it comes out delicious. I don't feel comfortable doing that yet.

As much as I am enjoying being a house-wife who isn't technically married yet (insert sarcasm), I really want a job. I miss my students. I miss interacting with other people. I miss being productive. Thus, I've been applying for as many jobs as I can and, well, now I'm in a bit of a pickle. As much as I like the Rock Hill/Charlotte area, I just really miss Alabama and I miss working for The University of Alabama, so I've been doing everything I can to get another job there. I am currently being considered for this recruiter job at UA, which I am super excited about & that I want really badly, but today I got an email about a phone interview for a job I applied for at a college in Charlotte. I mean, its a cool job--Director of Involvement--but my heart just isn't in Charlotte. Plus, this is a private religiously affiliated school and while I am quite spiritual (i.e. I have a close, personal relationship with the "Big Guy Upstairs"), I am not what one would call religious, so I don't know how well I would fit into that type of environment. So now I'm torn. Do I take a job that I like, that pays fairly well, but requires me to stay in a place that I am less than happy or do I wait for a job at UA and risk going even longer without a job. Any thoughts?

And i'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger...

So… I’ve sucked at this whole blogging thing, thus far. I have about a million excuses for why I haven’t written but what good are excuses, right? I have a lot of things on my mind, but I still haven’t decided just how much of my personal life I want to devulge here and in what direction I want my blog to go, and my fiance is bugging me to watch him make turkey chili, so for now, I’m just going to write about my resolutions and I’ll try to come up with something more poignant later.

My Goals for 2011 [in brief]:

1. Work on developing a healthy relationship with food.

2. Get into some sort of exercise habit.

3. Learn to cook.

4. Find a job I love.

5. Make more friends.

6. Be more productive in every aspect ofmy life.

7. Be a good puppy mommy to Harley.

8. Sell something on etsy.

9. Blog on a regular basis.

10. Stop being sketchy & live.

I met a girl who sang the blues...

...and i asked her for some happy news,

but she just smiled and walked away...

I’ve had this blog for a little over a week and I’ve already been sketchy. I’m sorry!! I promise to try to do better!!

My brain is in a fog and my thoughts are all over the place, and I am writing this in the hopes of sorting through things, so please bear with me.

Rob and I made the 5+ hour drive back home to Alabama this past weekend, in order for me to attend my monthly graduate school weekend class (only one more weekend stands between me & a Master’s degree. Woot Woot!!). As my friends will attest, I am what one may like to call a procrastinator, so despite the fact that I had a reflective essay, an annotated bibliography, a synthesizing research paper, and a power point presentation due on Saturday, I arrived home on Thursday with none of the above completed, and spent the majority of my weekend under a great deal of self-imposed stress. Ironically, the topic of my annotated bib, research paper, and presentation was “Perfectionism and Procrastination in Higher Education.” Yeah. And I definitely finished all of it late Friday evening. Ugh, I really don’t know what is wrong with me & why I procrastinate to such a degree. It is as though my brain can’t form cohesive & coherent sentences, or should I say, sentences that live up to my intense need for perfection. Ugh. One academically related positive of the weekend, though: I received my letter stating that I passed my Comprehensive Exams and am now set to graduate. And, this is kind of silly, but one of my former professors (who was also my former boss), whom I am not particularly fond of (i.e. his is a bit of a pompous ass) left me a handwritten note on my letter, telling me congratulations, and it made me really happy.

I still have no job prospects, and it is getting very frustrating. I have moved 3 times in as many months, so I would prefer to stay where I am for a while, but there are just no jobs around here for my field. And, really, if one more person asks me “Well, can’t you do something with your Master’s other than work for a college?” (Umm… it’s a Master’s in HIGHER EDUCATION administration, so, um, no.), I might throw something. I have found a few jobs at various colleges here in South Carolina, but they all would require Rob and me to move. Back to that “Perfectionism and Procrastination in Higher Education” project I mentioned a second ago, there was a topic I covered, called ‘self-handicapping’, in which a person sets up actual barriers for success, as a means of self-preservation. For example, a person may wait until the night before a big test to study, that way, if he/she doesn’t do well on the test, their poor performance can be attributed to a lack of sufficient study time, as opposed to a lack of intellect or ability. A part of me is afraid that I am in, some way, self-handicapping myself. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough to find a job. Maybe I’m not applying for enough jobs. Maybe I’m being too picky. I think I’m afraid of getting a job and figuring out too late that it was NOT the job for me. Bleh.

Wedding planning is also a big stressor, right now. Let me explain a little about my engagement situation, first of all. Like many little girls, I dreamt of meeting the man of my dreams and having him drop down on one knee with a beautiful ring and asking me to be his wife. Well, after about 9 months of dating Rob, that happened. Sort of. See, he planned this really special date, where he took me out to this little island out on a local former army base (both of us come from military families, and he served in the national guard), and had my favorite food, and got down on one knee, and had a gorgeous ring (the PERFECT ring) and asked me to marry him. Unfortunately, I sabotaged my own happiness, because I had ((accidentally)) found out the week prior, that he was planning to surprise, so I had to pretend to be surprised, which took some of the special out of the situation, but whatever. Rob and I stayed engaged for about 6 months, before we realized that we had two different expectations for our engagement. I assumed being engaged meant that we were going to get married. Like soon. As in, like, the next year or so. Rob, on the other hand, thought engagement meant that we would get married… at some point. [Basically, he loved me & just wanted to be engaged. And, although he may not admit it, a major reason for him proposing was because every since I had joined my sorority I dreamed of having a “candlelight” ceremony, which is basically a really special, celebratory tradition that the sorority has for sisters who get engaged. My junior year of college was quickly coming to a close, and I had applied for inactive status for my senior year, so Rob knew this was my last chance. Good intentions, God bless him.] Anyways, he and I postponed the engagement, I gave back the ring (so he could propose again, later, when we were ready), and we just dated. Well… insert a couple breakups, several stupid fights, and one serious ultimatum over the next year or so, and we finally reached a point to where we were ready to be engaged. At this point, Rob had moved from his apartment in Alabama, to South Carolina, to live with his dad & to work a better job. One day, after coming home to visit, Rob realized that my engagement ring was missing. Long story short, he had left my ring, in its box, in a drawer, along with some of his other stuff that he was storing at that old apartment, and his roommates sketchy 17-year old son, stole my ring, gave it to his “baby-momma”, took the ring back from her, and pawned it. For $90. We never got it back & I was heartbroken. Now, when I moved up here from Alabama, this past summer, it was under the shared assumption that we would get married. The little girl in me still wanted that traditional engagement, with the pretty ring that you proudly show to everyone, BUT there was (is) just no way for Rob to afford another ring, so my mom gave me her old engagement ring from her second marriage, and Rob got down on one knee in my bedroom (we were home for a class weekend) and proposed and it was a nice ring (except that it had a gold band & I am not a fan of gold) but it wasn’t MY ring. A couple weeks later, as Rob and I were in the middle of moving out of our apartment, into another apartment with our friend who was trying to divorce his (literally) crazy wife who was doing everything she could to keep us out (she was also delusional and I would like to note that she had been released from a psychiatric unit earlier that day) and the stress got to me and I fainted (I have a strange tendency to do that). Next thing I know, I’m being tied to a back board, with a paramedic informing me that I fainted, hit my head, had a seizure, and was being taken to the hospital. Completely confused and terrified, I looked at my left hand, as I was being lifted into the ambulance, and, through tear-filled eyes, noticed that the diamond was missing from my engagement ring. I had hit the sidewalk with such force that it knocked the diamond out of my ring. Luckily, Rob found the diamond the next day, so this ½ karat diamond sits by itself in a jewelry box and my left hand is naked. I’ve been wearing some random ring that my grandmother bought me when I was a little girl that is this, like, aquamarine/turquoise stone with small diamonds around it, and looks nothing like an engagement ring. To be honest, I feel jipped. I feel like in our society (particularly Southern society), an engagement isn’t real if you don’t have a ring. Maybe that is why I haven’t been in a rush to start planning the wedding—because it doesn’t feel real.

Rob and I (well, technically, I) have changed the date at least 3 times, and still haven’t really settled on one, although we know we want to be married this coming up spring. Both Rob and my best friend, Elizabeth, mentioned that, perhaps, I should find a wedding venue first, before choosing a date, which (as I have not planned a wedding before) I had not thought of. So, now, I am stressing to find a wedding location. I don’t know what my budget is, because I don’t know if my parents are going to pay. I want a small wedding, preferably outdoors, and not in a church. I come from a ridiculously small town in Alabama & there is nowhere to get married & I’m freaking out and our ((proposed)) wedding date is in, like, six months and I haven’t done anything. AHHHHH….

To make matters worse, I feel completely alone. Rob has given me full control of the planning, although I really want his help and input. My parents aren’t exactly thrilled about our impending nuptials, so I don’t feel comfortable talking to my mom about things, because she just brushes me off. Then, Elizabeth is in Alabama, Christine is in Ohio, Emily is in Georgia, and I have no friends here. Elizabeth called me last night & made me feel a lot better, offering to help with anything she can. I really need my friends right now.

And, of course, the cloud that is constantly hanging over my head… my weight. I’ve got quite a history with food and weight (which I won’t bore you with today) and I feel fat & I am miserable. I have probably gained 10-ish pounds since I moved in with Rob and I hate it. I want to eat healthy. I want to exercise. But, it’s like my body (& mind) won’t let me. Literally, candy/sugar is one of my main food groups. I crave it. I’m addicted to it. I need it. And, as far as exercise? I, literally, possess, like, negative amounts of energy. It’s hard to even get out of bed. I was speaking with one of my classmates about my whole “faint-and-hit-the-ground-and-break-my-face” situation, and she started talking about a condition called dysautonomia, and the more I read about it, the more it makes sense to everything I have been experiencing for the past, like, 5 years, but neither Rob, nor my mother, take me seriously, and I don’t know what to do and I just want to feel better. AHHH…

Related to my food/weight issues is the fact that, I suck at being a housewife and I hate it. I don’t know how to cook, I don’t know how to plan meals, and whenever I go grocery shopping, I have all these good intentions of meals and snacks and healthy eating, and I buy all of this food & it just goes to waste. It is so frustrating. And, to be honest, I think the only fruits/vegetables I had all weekend were some orange juice with my breakfast and a slice of tomato on a burger on Friday. That is awful. I eat horribly!! I want to eat healthy, but I don’t know what to eat or what to cook or how to cook and I feel overwhelmed and I don’t have the money to go to a dietitian or anything and grrr… I am just so frustrated with life right now…

"The very best thing you can do for the whole world is to make the most of yourself."
[Wallace Wattles]

all we need is just a little patience...

So… let me begin by saying that I have been putting off starting a blog for a very very long time. But, today, with a puppy in my lap, nothing on tv, and an annotated bibliography to work on, I have become inspired.

This isn’t my first rodeo, as far as blogging goes, because ten years ago (wow I feel really old) I started a blog (though that word didn’t exist yet) at OpenDiary.com. I kept that diary through my junior year of college and then randomly decided to delete it—not sure why.

At any rate, I am of the opinion that the first entry is the hardest. Should I introduce myself? What should I say? How much information do you need? Should I go straight into venting about life or school or whatever is irking me at the moment? Should I write something clever and engaging? (I guess this gives you a bit of an idea of how my mind works)

Since I am an extremely random person, I am going to be random and just write. Stream-of-consciousness—gotta love it.

My name is Amber, except my mother liked Patience so she put it first. I am a soon-to-be twenty-five year old mother of a soon-to-be 4 month old miniature dachshund named Harley. I am engaged & will probably (hopefully) write about wedding planning, since we’re getting married on April 30. I am originally from Alabama (roll tide), but moved to North Carolina, then South Carolina, for the fiancé (Rob). I am a former sorority girl and a current graduate student (will be getting the Master’s next month. Woot Woot!!). I have two best friends, whom I never see, because one lives in Alabama and the other lives in Ohio and is sketchy (I love you, but you are). I have two tattoos dedication to my lifelong obsession—Nirvana: ‘in flore’ on my left hip (means ‘in bloom’, like the song) and a pink heart on my right foot (for heart shaped box).

[Random tidbit: I really want to get another tattoo but I’m not sure where to put it, as I want it to be fairly hidden (like my current ones) and I want it to say my favorite Nirvana lyric, the lyric that pretty much sums up all that I am: ‘oh well. whatever. nevermind.’ (last verse in Smells like Teen Spirit). Ok, I’ll step off my Nirvana/Kurt Cobain soap-box now.)

The current bane of my existence: being unemployed. I serendipitously ran across the most amazing job EVER two years ago, working as a community college transfer advisor with the National College Advising Corps (google it. It’s kind of a big deal J). I was really good at my job and helped a lot of students, but, unfortunately, it was a grant funded position that only lasted two years. I could have squeaked out another year, but I moved to be with Rob. So, I went from being completely happy (lack of a better word) with my career, but miserable in my relationship (because LDRs suck) to being completely happy (again, lack of a better word) with my relationship, but miserable with my career. I have applied for countless jobs and no one will hire me and it is very frustrating. I am GOOD at what I do. I am passionate about working with college students. I am a month away from having a MA in Higher Education Administration. Why can’t I get a flipping job!? (Ok that’s a rant for another day)

I’m not sure what else to say about myself… I suppose if I keep blogging and you keep reading, then you will get a fairly good idea of my personality, views, and disposition, so I won’t bore you now by rambling on about myself. And, while I’m sure a good part of this blog will involve my musings (or rants) on life, but I don’t want it to be all about me—I want to make a contribution to the blogosphere. I love blogs. I read dozens of them, trying to glean as much information about life, love, and other things (like being organized, because that I am not), and I want to do that for someone else. I want this diary to resonate for that 20-something girl/woman (insert corny, cliché Britney Spears song) who, like me, is in the throes of an existential quarter-life crisis. But, as I mentioned, be prepared for rants/bitching/musings about the boy, the wedding, the job, the puppy, the family, the friends, and life, in general.

I look forward to starting this literary (blog-erary?) journey with you.

[Note: I love music and quotes, so I plan on carrying over a tradition from my OpenDiary, in that I open and close each entry with a quote or lyrics. I have a tendency to heavily relate my life and who I am to quotes and lyrics. Yeah, I’m that girl. ]

How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
[William Shakespeare, Othello]