Tacos and Sundays

 Every single Sunday my grandparents have tacos after church. Every single Sunday. It differs as to what meat they use, today we had chicken tacos. But I can always count on having tacos after church. That's exactly how my grandparents work, they are consistent with everything and honest to the bone.  So, I got a little choked up today when I was helping prepare the taco bar. I was sitting in the chair I always sit in while grating cheese for tacos and just started to cry. I started thinking back to all the other hundreds of Sundays that I had done this exact same thing. Watching my Papa cut up tomatoes and onions while telling us what he learned in Priesthood, then looking over to Granny making the meat while listening to my Papa. It's so funny watching them because they are still so madly in love. My Granny gets so exited when my Papa gets home and he has no clue what to do when she's not there! They are perfect for eachother, true soulmates. They joke, tease, and flirt like they're sixteen years old! I have so many memories eating tacos after church with my grandparents and other family members, but mainly my grandparents. This tradition has such a special place in my heart, some people might think that it's silly, but long after my grandparents leave this world, I'll have taco Sundays to bring them back to me.
 My grandparents mean everything to me, my Granny and Papa are my bestfriends, they've always been there for me, through everything. I have so many wonderful memories with them. No matter how big or old I get, I know that I'm always my Papas little princess, and I know that no matter how old Granny and I get, we will always sit around drinking cherry pepsi laughing our heads off!
 So, back to the taco Sunday, I just am so grateful that we have this tradition in our family. It means so much to me, just like my precious Granny and Papa do.
 I hope that y'all have traditions in your families, they sure are fun :)

Shake it off, literally

 So, I've been a little stressed lately, and I needed to burn off some steam. When I was at enrichment last night I talked with a lady that co-owned this Zumba studio, which was music to my ears because I love Zumba! All day I've been so exited to try it out and just dance my worries away!
 So, my mom and I show up at 5:30 not really knowing how this studio worked or anything. As soon as the music comes on and my body starts moving I already feel so much better! For me, I have to work out, if I don't then I go crazy. There's something about exercise that's just such a balancer. So after about 45 minutes of bumpin', pumpin', and grindin' I felt like a totally new and improved Tay.
 I'm so glad that I did the Zumba class tonight! I feel great! I'm already hooked to this studio, I'll be there five times a week from here on out :) My second class is tomorrow morning at 10:00am and I can't wait!

These breathing exercises aren't cutting it...

 Do y'all ever just wonder why the heck some things happen to you? Well, I certainly do.
 When you're a kid, you have this totally unrealistic perception of how your life's gonna be when you're a "grown up." I pictures myself married to a wealthy something or other with five of the most perfectly behaved children this world has ever seen while looking like a super model. Well I definately don't have the super model thing down, I for sure don't want to get married, and the thought of having children of my own scares me into actual tears. In reality, the start to my adulthood has totally sucked, to put it lightly. Obviously I know that things will eventually work out at some point, but until then I just can't help being a total ball of nerves. I literally worry from the time I wake up til the time I go back to sleep.
 Being that I didn't apply to school or have a plan b aside from the job I had in San Diego, I have totally shot myself in the foot. I am currently in Rome, GA and I've been job hunting... to say the least... it's been very frustrating. It's also frustrating because I don't even know why the heck I'm here in Rome! All I know is that the Lord wants me here and I don't know why. There seems to be nothing here! I know that I've only been here a week, but I just hate not having a job or a schedule of some kind. I feel completely worthless when I don't have a job.
 I just can't seem to chill out, I went and got a pedicure today thinking that it would help me unwind and relax, and all I did was sit there and worry and grind my teeth. I feel like I'm on the constant verge of a breakdown. I haven't broke down since the San Diego thing and I don't want to, I hate to cry, it gives me an ugly face with an accompanying headache.
 My face is breaking out, I have dark circles under my eyes, and my hair is falling out! Ugh, I feel like I'm way too young to worry this much but I mean what else am I supposed to do? I refuse to sit around and do nothing! I'm just going to have to use whatever resources I have and figure something out I guess. Also, I know that everyone goes through this when they're first starting out, but they don't tell you how hard and stressful it is!
 Well, atleast I have a blog I can vent on.

Yeah, I knit.

           

 Yeah, so I knit.

 When I was about ten years old I was visiting my Dad and his parents down in Florida. As a ten year old girl I'm sure I was quite annoying and continually bored out of my mind. So one day I sat across from my Granny Vivian watching her pretty little fingers knit away. As I sat watching her knit, I grew very curious of how she was doing this and how the whole knitting thing worked. After a couple of minutes of me interegating her, she decided to teach me how to knit for myself.

 I picked it up quickly and was a self-proclaimed master of knitting. The rest of the visit I sat chatting and knitting across from my Granny, it was wonderful. I really got to know her during that time and hear all sorts of stories from her past and childhood. I of course appreciate that experience more now than then, but it still meant a lot to me when I was younger.

 Being that she had taught me the art of knitting, she now had reasons to call and talk to me on a regular basis, we were knitting buddies from then on out.

 She knitted a lap blanket for me during that time and sent it to me in Tennessee... and all these years later my baby brother uses it all the time!

 With all of this being said, I was at Michaels with my other Granny the other day and saw some knitting supplies. A wave of emotion came over me as I thought back to those days in my Granny Vivians living room. I got the desire to call her up and just chat like old times, and of course, talk about my knitting memory in Michaels.

 Time is a funny thing, the days are short and the years are long, and I can still remember those knitting days as if they were yesterday. I love you, Granny

 Granny Vivian and I this past summer.

Guilty pleasures $$

   So I'm sitting here this morning contemplating the dilema I'm faced with: Do I go and get my nails done or do I choose to save money and not get my nails done?
 Since I can remember I've always off and on had the privelege to have my nails and toes done. Now that I've been making my own money and having expenses of my own, I have chosen to spend about $60.00 every two weeks on having my nails and toes done.
 So that $120.00 a month that is all put towards my pretty little fingers and toes. So the question I am asking... is it worth it? When you meet someone and they have their nails done do you immediately notice it or do you ever even notice it at all? I tend to make myself believe that it's okay to spend this money because you can't put a price tag on beauty... but does it even make me more beautiful? Some people like the natural nail thing, I've never been one to even try that out, but it's a heck of a lot cheaper.
 I'm always telling myself this is the last time, then we're on our own, but I always seem to scrape up the money from somewhere and go pamper myself. But in the end, that money is being flushed down the drain. I have nothing to show for it once my nails have all grown out and my toe nail polish starts to chip.
 This might seem like a dumb question to post, but hey, it's a my blog after all.

Fudge and Favorites

 My Great Grandma Violet (GG) is famously known for her delicious homemade fudge. She makes it specifically to each individuals liking. She can make it with or without nuts, with or without peanut butter, a lot of peanut butter or a littler peanut butter, and so on. So you kind of know your on the good side of GG when she knows how you like your fudge and follows that up by making some for you. Not everyone gets fudge, it's a serious treat when you are priveleged enough to get a container of fudge.
 My entire life I have been eating this fudge, but it's never been mine, I'm always mooching fudge off on another family member at holidays and such. My Papa Bud is always stocked with fudge, being that he is the only son she can make fudge for.
  I lived with my Granny and Papa Bud for a little while in 2009 and saw GG quite often, and even then, I never had my own fudge, I was still always sneaking some out of my Papa's container.
 So this past summer I was visiting my Granny and Papa Bud, and GG was up here visiting as well, when I finally got enough courage to ask her if she liked me. Of course she said yes and wondered why I had ever had such a thought, so I followed that with the fudge theory.
 Everyone that is on GG's favorite's list always has fudge, and not only has fudge, has their own tailored fudge just for them. I reminded her that she has never made me fudge, or even asked me how I liked mine. With this point being made she told me continually throughout the rest of her visit that she was going to make me fudge and send it to me... I wasn't totally banking on it... but my tastebuds and heart strings had their hopes.
 Alas, after eighteen years and some change on this earth, I got my own container of fudge. MY OWN!! I'm not sneaking in the kitchen at midnight sneaking a piece from my Papa or my cousins anymore, I am finally on the fudge list. There's this new sense of acceptance and love that GG and I share now, the silence is broken, and the fudge has been delivered.
 I'm still in total shock as I sit here munching on peanut butter chocolate fudge, and the sad part is that it doesn't taste as good when it's my own. So I just might sneak one more piece from my Papa just for old times sake...

Do you dew?

 Okay, so as many of my close friend know, I am addicted to Diet Mtn Dew. The worst part about it is that I absolutely love my addiction, that's why I have an addiction. I started drinking the dew about two and a half years ago and it gradually got out of hand. What started out as one 32ounce fountain drink a day turned into a few 20ounce bottles and a 2liter every day. Obviously I know that this cannot be good for me and my precious little organs, but I can't seem to kick the habbit. I often refer to my dew as my boyfriend or some other romantic title because I love it so much. Truthfully though, my lips touch my dew more than they've ever touched lips. So lately I've been trying to only have four cans a day... some of you reading this are probably freakin' out because that sounds like a lot to y'all... but it's cuttin' back for me!
 I am trying to cut the dew out of my life all together but I've found that I have beverage association issues. For instance, for some they wake up and absolutely must have their coffee or their whole day is off, and the same goes for me with my ice cold dew. Every morning I wake up and sip on my dew as I get ready, it's part of my routine (can 1). Usually I get in the car and go somewhere, and I have to have an ice cold dew to bring with me on the road (can 2). Then while I'm out and about doing whatever I will buy a 20ounce bottle and sip on it for an hour or so (bottle of soda which I don't include in my 4 cans). Eventually I mosey on home or wherever I am going to end up for the night and have a few glasses of ice cold dew with my dinner (last 2 cans).
 As you can tell, I am a sad dew-drinkin' fool. My goal is to stop drinking my dew all together by 2012... which is only a few months away. I really don't want to stop, but it's getting to be an expensive habbit that I don't want to keep forkin' out the dough for.
 Y'all, pray for me.

So, you diet?

 So ever since I turned the magical age of fourteen I have been on the "roller coaster" of weight gain and weight loss. It seemed like overnight I went from a perfect size four to, "WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO MY BODY?" It's obvious that women have more of an issue with the subject of their weight than men, but why? Is it that women want to look perfect for men or to look better then the woman standing next to them in line at Kroger? I know that I, myself, have been obsessed with my appearance one too many times in my life. Usually the only times that I'm a gym rat and strict dieter is when there's a boy I want to look hot for, other than that, I usually eat one big meal and starve myself the rest of the day, which is pretty unhealthy. It kind of hit me today that I don't really care about my health as much as I care about how I look. That's not right is it? Shouldn't I be more worried with my bodies health rather than my bodies appearance? I really need to balance the two and start caring about my health since I'm going for this growing up thing. So I've been researching diets and such trying to figure out what works best for my everyday lifestyle. So here we go! Let's see if I can make diet and exercise a lifestyle and just a look hot quick scheme.