i'm alive, i swear: post-birthday edition

Let me just start off by saying that between substitute teaching, living in Forney during the week and my birthday festivities, I have spent only two nights in my own bed over the course of the past three weeks. Say what??

Things have been crazy, y'all, but crazy-good.

I had so enjoyed getting into the practice of writing nearly every day and, let's face it, as a writer, that's beyond important, but with everything that's been going on, I've found literally no time to even check anyone else's blogs let alone post on my own. I don't care if it's weird, but that's been tough. Anyway...

This will just be a mishmash post since a lot has happened during my brief hiatus. Let's get on with it:


Substitute Teaching...
...is a total dream. I love it. The more I sub the more I'm convinced I'm supposed to be a teacher...but the less I'm convinced I'm supposed to work for a district. What I mean is I've started worrying over the past three weeks that maybe I'm too out there to be a regular ol' teacher. I definitely don't like being put into a box, wading through red tape, etc. I just want to be able to do what I want when I want and blahblahblah I'm apparently a rebellious sixteen-year old all over again and YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM SO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE OKAY GOSH. Being a substitute teacher is so freeing because I don't have to be regular; I can let the kids sit on the floor while they work. I can hug them when the day is over (okay, I'm technically not allowed to do that, but when a sweet kid runs at me full-force and throws their arms around me, I'm not going to push them away, duh). I can say "suck it" in casual conversation. I can have a tattoo. Okay, so, again, technically maybe I'm not allowed to do any of those things either, but I do and the kids love me. And the other teachers love me. And I'm doing a great job. No, Mom, that's not me being full of myself; that's recognizing when I'm good at something, which is rare, so let me have my moment. Jeeeeeez.

I could honestly go on and on and on about all this (seriously, ask any of my annoyed friends), but I'll save it for another day. Besides, I can already feel myself getting all worked up and it's too early in the morning for a stress rash.


Obedience School...
...is over! And, yes, Pete graduated! So what if it was a pity, you-paid-the-money-so-I-guess-we'll-pass-him kind of graduation, it still counts. And he even wore one of those totally lame and adorable mortar boards. Duh, I took a bazillion pictures. Way to go, Pete! You can roll over, but you still swipe food off the kitchen counters and rip my mom's plants out of the ground.

We just really wanted to make this whole get-a-picture-while-Pete's-wearing-a-graduation-cap thing work.

Awkward.

What an adorable family pic, complete with what appears to be Clark Kent having a goddamn seizure. Way to ruin it, CLARK.

MATTHEW BRODERICK TRAINER! Thanks, Scott, for indulging our creepiness and taking a picture with us.

Oh yea, and a picture of the infamous Mia. Bitch.


My Birthday...
...was last Wednesday, the 16th, and I am officially (not) old. What up, 24! Show me what you've got! No, but seriously, so far being twenty-four is all right. The weekend before, a bunch of my friends got together for an impromptu house party which made us all feel like we were in college again, followed by (even more?) drinks and karaoke. I'd never realized I actually knew all the words to If You Wanna Be My Lover until we sang it because, let's face it, the Spicegirls are total crowd-pleasers. Then later I fell off a curb by a valet stand and into a muddy ditch. Mature. This past weekend, however, I trekked down to visit my best friends in Austin for a little post-birthday celebration. That's what happens when your actual birth day falls on a shitty Wednesday -- you get two birthday weekends. Anyway, it was pretty chill, but we did venture out to West 6th Street on Saturday night where I only spent eight dollars because some thirty-two year old Persian dudes came out of nowhere and bought us shots. One of them's birthday was the day after mine and he only hit on me a little, so I felt like it was okay to hang with them. No worries, Mitch has been informed and dare I say he's proud of me? Later while stopped at a red light we screamed out the car windows at an awkward couple until they made out. I repeat: mature.

And since I am still camera-less (read: DEPRESSED), I have no pictures from this past weekend. Instead please enjoy this throwback picture of my BFFs and I from our graduation night, December 2009:

We only deceptively have our shit together.

So, in a nutshell, that's what's been going down in Texas, y'all.

Howdy. I'm Andrea. I'm a twenty-four year old substitute teacher in Dallas, girlfriend to a man who should never under any circumstances be left alone with hair clippers as he will forget to leave himself sideburns, friend to bangin' yet equally immature twenty-somethings, and mother to two of the world's most thieving, conniving dogs.

And this is my universe.