And I'm taking all my good stuff
Gone, gone, you'll never get it back
I'm gone, gone, been a long time coming
Bet you're gonna miss me
Bet you're gonna miss me bad
-- Cyndi Thomson

I am so out of here after tomorrow, y'all. I'm taking the rest of the week off for a much needed break. Alas, there will be no posting over the break -- I'm taking a self imposed hiatus from technology. (Don't worry, I bet I'll still check my email at least once a day!) Hopefully, this break will reinvigorate me and I'll be back in full force on the 29th with more crap to post. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

dabbs

the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I don't know
-- Fleetwood Mac

I'm counting on my TIDE this weekend. I know it'll be tough, but nothing is impossible. Go roll to victory, hit your stride, you're Dixie's football pride Crimson Tide, Roll Tide, Roll Tide!

Amy

Some toothpaste, a flannel for my face
Pajamas, a hairbrush, new shoes and a case.
-- Squeeze (all together now, “tempted by the fruit of another”)

I’ve never been a “fashionista” in any sense of the word. I do have a thing about shoes, watches and purses, though. Well, I am in desperate need of a nice, new everyday black purse. I’m picky as all get out and have just had no luck finding one that I like. Of course the fact that I won’t drop $100 on a purse may very well be why I have had zero luck. A couple of months back, my old faithful black everyday purse finally breathed it’s last as I watched the strap almost break in two. Now I had a real problem.

It just so happened that my mom was in town and we went to Wal-Mart (don’t knock it, you know you love it, not as much as the awe inspiring Target, but you still love it). I picked up the essentials and swung the buggy around a corner and down an aisle and headed towards the other side of the store. And there were the purses. My mom said, “Hey, you said you need a new black purse, look how cute this purse is.” She held up a small black purse with a bright pink handle and a bright pink “a” on the front. “It is cute, Ma, but I need something for everyday, you know?” She countered with, “Well Amy, it’s only $7 why don’t you get it until you find something else? It’s really cute.” So I relented.

After grabbing the milk and Cheer we headed to the worst part of the Wal-Mart experience – the check out action. There was a very talkative old lady running the register. I listened with bemusement as she chewed the ears off the lady in front of me. Finally my turn came and all the random items paraded down the conveyer belt. The purse was last. She picked it up, gave it a good once over with her eyes, scanned it and then raised her eyebrows when the $7.99 popped up on the screen. She promptly looked up at me and said, “Well, didn’t you get you a cheap, little purse?”

And you know what, lady? I carry it almost everyday.

Over numbers
Unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages for words
More words than I had ever heard and I feel so alive
-- Jason Mraz

So this guy I work with came in my office this morning and randomly started talking about blogs. He asked, “So, do you blog much, or read blogs much?” I completely ignored the first part of the question and said, “Yeah, I read a few blogs, but pretty much only my friend’s blogs.” He then showed me a magazine cover with the headline, “Man makes $55K a day by blogging for 3 hours.” He said he was going to study up and see how he could get in on that action. He said, “Yeah, those personal blogs just crack me up. I mean, it’s like reading a bunch of high school kids’ journals and notes to their friends. And they think it’s so good but it’s just this elementary drivel with crap like a poem they wrote for their dog.” Then he exited.

Ah, well, it’s his opinion and he’s entitled to it, right? And I sure as heck wasn’t about to let him know that I have a blog of my very own. The horror of that thought. Oh wait, what if he does know and was saying all of that as a test? A test to see if I would reveal my secret corner of the web where I post my own angst, whinings, amusings and teenage drivel?? Whatever shall I do? (and I am well aware that I made up 2 words, thank you very much, “I can be lacubrious with you.”) And amydabbs.com isn’t the most “secret” url ever, is it?

Why do you all come here and read this crap?? I mean, really? Is it just because you know me or because maybe you know someone who knows me? Or what’s the deal? For me personally, I post as a form of catharsis. I need to get this crap out of my head, if, in the mean time, it entertains, amuses, provokes, enrages or just makes someone emote on some level, then so be it. Self expression is a beautiful thing (ok, wait, all of you that may be reading too much into that, you know what I mean). For me, posting burns away the dross – sort of like a Don Henley song, “You keep carrying around that anger, it’ll eat you up inside.” And I truly believe that. I’ve spent the past 2 ½ business days wanting to post with the title, “Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies” and then delve into a deeply protected part of my brain where all the crazy lives – like how lies, however minor and insignificant, incite me to the point of rage. Similar to how certain inappropriate dinner table conversation incites me to the point of rage. Anyway, I hesitated and decided to not post it for numerous reasons. The site is no longer pure, kids, I hate to tell you. Now I think before I post because I never know who is reading and I wouldn’t want to cause any friction of any sort or kind (and yes that dinner comment was for you, Grace and you know it and so does everyone else, ha!).

So, what exactly were we talking about? Oh yeah, right, blogs in general. Please don’t think that I am so self important that I keep a site solely for the purpose of my own amusement. Oh no, wait, that’s exactly why I keep it – for my own amusement – it doesn’t mean I have an unhealthy ego or consider myself to be some type of important person that people should read my nonsensical banter, it’s all about the fun, baby. Y’all keep reading, you hear??

dabbs

it's ya birfday
we gon' party like it's your birfday
we gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birfday


HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOLLIWOOD!!!! Hope you have a great day!

love,
Amy

my foolish notion
-- George Michael

I ran across George Michael's "Behind the Music" on VH1 yesterday. My, I used to love him when I was a kid. It all started with WHAM! and the whole "Wake me up before you go-go" phenomenon, then my adoration blossomed when he went solo with Faith and by the time “Freedom 90” came out I was all about George. Faith came out when I was 9. That video put George on the path to becoming one of my very first celebrity crushes. I was all about that video with that jacket, those jeans, that jukebox, mirrored shades, 5 o’clock shadow and guitar. Good memories. He said in the interview that he was very insecure during the “Faith” run. He said he would have felt better if someone had of told him that he was a good looking guy. Hello? I’m pretty sure those sold out arenas full of women screaming for you should have told you that you looked pretty good. Every time they showed the “Faith” era clips part of me screamed in my head, “Are you sure you’re gay? Really, really sure? Come on, George!” But then, it just took a camera pan to good ole George today for me to say, “Yeah, he’s gay.” And a revisit to the WHAM days videos… Hey, I was a kid, I didn’t know. I can love the memories, can’t I?

It's Friday night
and I feel alright
The party's here on the West side
-- Montell Jordan

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUSAN!!! Hope you have a great one!

(fall is busy with b'day's, isn't it??)

Ames

see me die
than to see me fly
-- P. Diddy, Mase and Notorious BIG

I survived after all -- despite all of the ominous warnings from P Diddy and everyone over at MTV, VH-1 and BET – trying to persuade me to “Vote or Die.” I’m still breathing. I didn’t exercise my right yesterday due to various paperwork and other issues that I won’t get into (because you know that I loathe talking politics). But I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder all day…

First there were the zealous wearers of the “I voted” stickers in the office. Each one stopped by my door to chat, but I knew their ulterior motive, to see if I, too, had the sticker. I escaped having to offer an explanation except to one person on my hall. And that turned out ok because she didn’t look at me disapprovingly or pull out a gat and cap my non-voting ass.

But I was still nervous… in an attempt to sway karma in my favor (and for the record, I don’t believe in karma), I proceeded to rev up my Windows Media player with what I call the “Hip Hop Mix.” I chose this mix because it contains several cuts from Bad Boy’s Greatest Hits album. Come on P Diddy – are you feeling me, man?

And P Diddy answered at 5 p.m. yesterday when I flipped on the BET. (What up 106 and Park, y’all! Represent! Your white asses need to be watching this shit, for real). There he was – in full on voting regalia. The crowd was chanting and pumping fists in the air, “VOTE OR DIE, VOTE OR DIE.” Suddenly, my head began to ache. Diddy looks right at me and says, “You ain’t got no excuse, the polls ain’t close yet, get out there now and vote or die.” I would, Diddy, but you see, I am registered in my hometown – I can’t vote this time… The crowd reaches a fevered pitch: “VOTE OR DIE, VOTE OR DIE!!” I break out into a sweat and flip over to catch a rerun of “Friends” before I pass out in fear.

I was awakened by a noise at 11:30 and as I peered out from under my blanket, I half expected to see some MTV/BET posse lead by the super obnoxious, way too damn old to be on MTV Kurt Loder and Diddy himself. But fortunately, they are probably too busy kicking every ass under 30 in the state of Ohio to worry about one little vote in our state, right? RIGHT????

let's talk about you for a minute
-- Alanis Morissette

Ok, kids, any suggestions on a blogging topic for yours truly?? There are a couple of things that you know are off limits -- religion, politics and anything that the FCC would dump a huge fine on me for (if this were a TV show). So, it's all about you, my friends. As Pat Benatar would say, go on and "Hit me with your best shot. Fire away." What do you want me drone about?

Also, congrats to another engaged pair! Congrats to Lee Ann and Brandon!

Amy