Monday, June 2, 2014


How annoying am I? Oh well. I'm moving my blog to Wordpress, because it has the capability to post private and password-protected blog entries. It's a function I'd like to have on my blog, and if I'd known Wordpress did it then I would have started my blog there. Live and learn.

you can find me here now:

If you're subscribed to my blog through Bloglovin then you won't have to do anything to keep reading -- everything will automatically switch over in a couple of days. If you're subscribed in Feedly, Google +/Followers, email, or anywhere else then you'll have to update things if you want to keep reading.

If you'd rather never read another thing I write ever again then fine. Be that way. Happy trails to you, my friend!

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

state of the parkers

I'm running on 3 hours of sleep today, y'all. THIS SHOULD BE GOOD. And by good I mean LOL.

This was honestly the best shrimp and grits I've ever eaten, and I make it a point to order shrimp and grits from any restaurant that offers it. The recipe is here, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it, but know that I didn't follow it completely. I never do, because if I don't have something (or don't want to spend money on something) I leave it out or substitute for something else. And sometimes if I have extra junk in my fridge that needs to be used I just throw it in. I was going to write up the recipe for you, but then I forgot and now I can't remember what I did. Sorry you have to miss out on the most amazing meal you would have ever had!

This little strawberry plant just won't die. I've found in the past few years that I have an accidental green thumb with some plants. I refuse to water them, take care of them, and openly wish death on them only for them to continue to live for years.

I don't even really like strawberries.


I bought these books while I was in Orlando a couple of weeks ago. They have pictures of real cats and dogs in them so I knew Ruby would love them. She's obsessed.

How I see Ruby most of the time: her little head leaning against me and her little hands on food.

Friday, May 23, 2014

quick takes, volume 9


Question: at what point do I have too many different forms of social media?

Alternate question: do I need a facebook page for my blog? Along with the blog. And the instagram. And the mostly ignored twitter. And the pinterest that I only use for recipes and crafts I will never do.

Follow up statements: 1) my life is not that interesting, 2) I don't even know why people read this blog, 3) who has time for all of this social media 4) I don't get it.

Also: do you have a blog? Tell me where it is so I can stalk you and leave you page-long comments.


All of my past experience has told me that summertime in academia means LESS WORK. Could someone please send my boss a politely worded declaration of my freedom from work when the temperature reaches 75 degrees or higher? I don't feel like I'm asking for too much... I just want to go home at noon, not come back until tomorrow, and watch TV while I'm here. SIMPLE.


My friend Patty Ann likes to send me pictures of my husband. I'm like, yeah, I know what he looks like, but why do you have all of these pictures of my man? Even Ryan is like that's enough.


This week has been a little cray between Ruby being sick, work being busy, and the fact that we're in a crunch to find a place to live if we want to stick to our moving-at-the-end-of-June timeline. So I've been in a pretty bad mood all week.

I'm oddly attracted to this man. I don't understand it. It must be the beard and the funny.


Things that cost me too much money all in the same week:
  • Zac's car needed the brakes fixed: $350+
  • Eye exam and contacts: $375
  • CPA payment for taxes: $350
Why do I even pay for vision insurance if I still have to pay that much money for contacts? I'm glad I have insurance for the "just in case" crap, but honestly I feel like it's a scam to steal my money. Especially car insurance, because I'm required to pay for it but if I ever get in an accident that amount will go up. How is that fair?


I follow like 35 people on instagram, but one of them is GETTING ON MY LAST NERVE. It's someone I know in real life so I don't feel like I can just unfriend them, but every single time they post something I alternate between feeling irritated and feeling envious. Of what? I have no idea. They don't really have anything I want.

My Facebook is also to the point where I feel like everyone is either trying to sell me something (monogrammed shit! cleaning products! jewelry! used clothes! crafts!) or send me game requests. I'm over it, people. OVER IT.

Social media is becoming Wal-mart. I hate it and it does nothing for my life, but I can't get awaaaaaaaaaay.


So obviously quick takes is becoming my weekly venting post, and I don't care.

Also, it's a 3 day weekend!! Here are my plans:

I'll let you guess at how many drinks I'm having.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

3 funny blogs I wish I'd thought of, but I didn't so my life is over.

Yeah, I'm feeling a little melodramatic. SO WHAT?

First of all: Thrift Horror
There is no reason why I never thought of this other than it never occurred to me that other people might also find the chachkas in thrift stores simultaneously hilarious and terrifying. Take this picture of Jesus, which Penney Hunt clearly spent a lot of time and effort creating. Only to donate it to a thrift store. Or maybe she gave it to someone and they donated it to the thrift store. How do you explain to your friend where this dancing/floating/flying/getting down Jesus is when she visits you? Drama.

Then there's: Godammit, I'm Mad!
I feel like some of my posts could be copied and pasted from that there blog. But you know they aren't, because Sister Wolf is way angrier, smarter, and funnier than me. And she stole candy from Bob Saget. In fact, her seeming love/hate relationship with celebrities and celebrity culture is part of why I love her. That and her shock and awe over the hideous crap the fashion industry calls clothes.

Finally there's: Roville's Blog
Full disclosure: I'm not really sure if this blog is meant to be funny, but I personally think it's hilarious. Roville is basically obsessed with Barbies and doing Barbie makeovers, and she often posts little conversations between the Barbies. I'm not sure why this is so funny, but it kills me.

You're welcome!

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

a sick kid and a diagnosis

I took this picture in Orlando at a restaurant that served the largest, driest pancakes in the land. Then I sent it to my mom to show Ruby, and she laughed at it. I rest my case on what an amazing mother I am.
Sunday night was kind of terrible. Actually, Sunday was just terrible. Ruby can be fairly stubborn and fussy so when she cried through our entire post-Orlando grocery shopping trip I wasn't surprised. Annoyed? Hell to the yes. But she's insistent when it comes to walking in stores, and I wouldn't let her. And then she never wants to leave a store, and I had the audacity to get in line to buy groceries. Whatever, kid. I just chalked it up to your normal toddler-Roo behavior. And then I bought her a leash... I'll just let that simmer for another post, haha.

After her nap, Ruby woke up with a fever. She's been getting little fevers due to teething over the past couple of months, but this one was a lot higher than typical. I assumed she had an ear infection, because 2 of the 3 times she's been sick it's been an ear infection with no signs other than a high fever. Her fever stayed between 100 and 103 throughout the night, which meant that I basically held her from about 8pm to 3am.

We spent a lot of time in my bed. I have a king-sized bed, but Ruby doesn't get that whole "personal space" thing. Toddlers. The few times I've tried to put her in bed with me she has done one of two things: 1) slept horizontally so that her feet were in my face or my chest and kicked, or 2) slept on top of me until I tried to move her only for her to wake up, look around, and laugh. My reaction to #1 is to try to move her to her crib, which only brings us to #2. My reaction to #2 is to pretend I'm asleep and think: "NOOOOO" and "Jesus, miracle her into sleeping. MIRACLE HER."

Obviously Sunday night was different since she was sick. I mostly had no interest in sleeping, because I was really concerned about keeping her temperature down. So I stayed awake obsessively checking her temperature, rubbing her back, putting cold wash cloths on her little forehead, giving her kisses, praying her fever would break, giving her medicine, making her drink water, and feeling like I was on fire thanks to a very warm child in my arms. You know, the normal paranoid mom stuff. #mothermartyrlife

Thankfully, my mom lives with me right now so at around 3:00am she took care of Ruby while I slept for about 3 1/2 hours. Of course, Ruby's fever kept coming back so at 8:40am I called the pediatrician. I actually hate the pediatrician I go to... like the entire practice. They're disorganized, there's high turnover, and the pediatrician is basically an idiot. I've probably written this here before, but this crazy actually told me that drinking soda made my breastmilk carbonated. On the outside I was like oh okay with a weird look, but on the inside I was like nope, that's not science.

When they finally decided to start answering the phone, I spoke with the pediatrician's husband who is also the business manager or something. I don't even know what is going on there since he is now also the receptionist/office manager. Despite the fact that Roo's fever was getting up into the 103s he thought it would be okay to wait until 1:30pm for the pediatrician to see her.


We were there 15 minutes later and there was all of one other patient there. Do you guys even want to make money? Is this some sort of front business for a drug cartel? Because you clearly don't want patients or their money.

After ruling out an ear infection and a cold or whatever they rule out with a stethoscope, they did a blood test. Ruby was totally cool about the blood test except for when they put a band-aid on her finger and then GAME OVER. Other children love band-aids, Ruby thinks they were sent by the devil to ruin her life. Or something.

It turns out she has a simple virus that nothing can be done about apart from alternating ibuprofen and tylenol. Lucky for us, she's already 75% better. I always like to use percentages when describing things, because it makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about. No, you are wrong 94% of the time. I am write 100% of the time. Don' try to figure out that math. Just trust me. It's a proven fact that I'm right!!!
In the future, I will try to refrain from writing about how I don't want to go to work, because that is clearly what caused this viral drama to unfold in my otherwise basic, boring life.