Am I There Yet?

Happy Sunday, Y'all.  It finally feels a bit like Fall outside. I legit got my first hot coffees of the season instead of my die hard summer order of an iced coffee at Starbucks the last two days.  I got to wear my arm warmers for my first four miles {12 total} of running today.  I am starting to need long sleeves to walk the dog.  The Dawgs lost to the Gamecocks in a game so terrible that I couldn't bear to finish watching.  The windows are open. So yes, it's kind of official.  It's October. 

It has been a week! I took a minute to look at my calendar for this month and I am already booked solid.  Between #1's Birthday Bash at The Housewife's, brunches, training for half-marathons, actually racing the half-marathon, "getting back out there", dinner with the girls, and a trip Jacksonville for the GA/FL game I am seriously, seriously busy.  {And already planning for November stuff!}

I bring this up because I have been feeling a bit overwhelmed.  And, the week before Em and I went to dinner in Roswell on Friday night which turned into an all night affair.  Short story -- I met a nice dude.  Who is super tall {this never happens to me}.  Anywho -- I did it.  I bit the bullet and had an actual Post-3-Putt-First-Date.  We met up and had a really nice dinner at Salt in Roswell.  He asked me how Hogan was doing {brownie points} after his test results that I was awaiting.  He was a total gentleman.  He's employed.  I felt short standing next to him {unreal}.  

I cried all the way home. 

I wish I could tell you what the hell is wrong with me.  Or I wish someone would tell me that this is normal so I don't feel so badly about it.  I mean, I'm sure those 3 giant glasses of wine helped but sheesh.  Dude didn't even do anything wrong.  

So the thought of the week/month/year is: "Am I there yet?"  I worry this is a sign that maybe I am not ready to be "out there" {read: super scary awkward dating world} yet.  I've got a lot of other stuff going on and I just don't know if I can deal. 

Love you. Mean it. 

~the single gal~

The Government May Put Me On the "No Fly" List After This Post Goes Live.

Y'all, I don't even know how to start this post.  Scary things have been happening at The Single Gal Estate over the last week or two. Things that are driving me mentally insane.  What could drive me insane? Aphids.  

Seriously, my life will never be the same.  I'll start from the beginning. 

I drag The Housewife with me to Lowe's after our sister's birthday lunch one Sunday.  I'm all "I have to plant flowers and get some curb appeal because my front door is so gross looking and on the off-chance I have someone over I need for the house to look nice-- like on the off-change TDH may cross my threshold, please, please, puh-lease go with me!" The Housewife obviously acquiesced.  She is used to my partial, normal insanity. 

Oh, we had a great time at Lowe's. All the flowers are so beautiful.  I pick some yellow Dahlia's that are already looking super nice with big, bright, fluffy blooms.  Then I grab some orange daisies.  And then a little spiller flower that I don't remember the name of.  I run home and it takes me like no time to put some potting soil in my 3 pots, plant them, and deposit them on my front porch.  Needless to say, I was REALLY pleased with myself that day.  And then really pleased with myself for another week.  They were just gorgeous. 

This picture really doesn't do my artwork any justice.  Just trust. 

Well, as we all know, life isn't sparkly and glittery for long -- at least not a my house.  So, I come home one day and there are weird little bugs ALL OVER my front porch.  They don't seem to be biting me when they land on me, but they freak me out.  It happened to storm that night and they went away (or so I thought).  Until a little while later. Then, I realize these things are multiplying. And not only that, they are ATTACKING my plants.

Aphids. 

Enter project one from internet research -- Spray them with water.  Um, no.  I blasted these guys with the hose and they were back before I could wind the damn thing up and put it away. Project two -- make a solution with veggie oil and water and dish soap and spray it on them to suffocate them.  I do this.  Day one it seems to work well. I come home from lunch today -- there aren't many out there.  Whew.  I've done it. 

NO. I HAVE NOT DONE ANYTHING.  There were 5 million more of them when I came home from work.  I know what you guys are thinking -- this seriously cannot be that bad.  No, it is.  These guys seriously multiply at an insane rate from what I've read. Like they straight up clone themselves.  Like DNA or something.  I run out the door in a rage with my soapy, oily solution and the hose and start spraying these fockers down. My porch is dripping water. My entire outfit is wet. Nothing.  They are still there and in Biblical proportions.  It's like the freaking plague has come to live on my front doorstep.  What else strikes fear in any normal girl? These bugs are now landing on my arms. And in my hair.  And crawling on me.

This story ends with me grabbing garbage bags and dumping my plants -- soil and all -- into them and running inside to shower/cry/hyperventilate. 

I think we are dealing with a few issues here -- 1. I don't like to fail.  And I obviously have.  I cannot compete with an infestation of cloning bugs.  2. Control {obvi}.  3. My house now looks like a gross place where nasty people live that like bugs. 

So, yeah -- MY PLANTS ARE CAUSING ME MENTAL ANGUISH. LOTS OF MENTAL ANGUISH.  If you need me I am off looking for some acid to throw on my front door step to get rid of the lingering ones that are on the walls/columns/front door.


Shoot us an email if you know how to kill these guys.  Or I may jump off a tall building.

Love you. Mean it.
~totally cray single gal~