Man was that burnt butt cheek worth it!

ALOHA! I’ve officially returned from Mexico! (and no one killed me and my kidneys are still intact)

While I had limited access to email and Facebook, I saved my google reader for today. TEN DAYS WORTH OF BLOG GLORY and I'm TOTALLY PSYCHED TO DEVOUR IT ALL!! I’m giddy clicking on links to see what my inter-peeps have been up to. Mermanda has had some fun stuff going on and ADORABLE E-pics (who wouldn’t eat those two up with a lens?), and a FAB contest FOR GAP JEANS was posted on My Little Reviews. Can I tell you how happy I am that she’s whored herself out to the Gap?

Coming home from vacation is always bitter sweet.

Boo, expired milk for breakfast.

YAY, subway meatball sub for lunch.

YAY, my own bed.

Boo, work.

I arrived at my office today nervous about a big project we had talked about me working on before I left. One which I was TOTALLY capable of doing, but would have been quite the ulcer-inducing mess.

This note was on my desk, hand written on the proposal by my big boss.

Welcome back!

F &*% K it!

Good effort.

It took me a good three minutes to decipher if this was a secret code or if I were reading the note incorrectly. I was impressed by the penned effort to maintain professionalism in the workplace by using the accepted-random-symbol-insertion-technique. I laughed my ass off and then broke out the tequila-filled truffles I snagged in Mexico.

What? you want to hear about my 8 days of Mexican bliss?

All in good time my lovelies, all in good time.

I have a pending sponsorship offer from Nike, so back off Adidas

When I stepped out of my car this morning to walk into work I was hit in the face by a plume of humidity. Nothing shout MIDWEST SUMMER like a sweaty upper lip and frizzy hair first thing in the morning. I walked into the building thankful that I spend my days inside..until I realized inside, felt like outside. I was greeted to a note on our office door (clearly posted to avoid nagging questions) stating that the air was broken and would most likely be out for today and tomorrow. IT WAS A BAJILLION DEGREES PEOPLE! The office reeked of stagnate air and smoke from the clothing of the cleaning staff who were emptying the garbage that was left to marinate over the weekend. The only two words that came to my mind were: SICK DAY.

But I sucked it up, went to my cubical and switched on my computer. And low and behold, two hours later, COLD AIR. Apparently, the fixers were on the ball this morning and for that I am VERY grateful.

ANYWAY, what I really wanted to brag blog about was my weekend. Well, at least one glorious hour of my weekend when I went putt putting with B. Let me preface this by saying husband and I almost GOT DIVORCED on our honeymoon when we attempted the course at the resort. I do believe this was some sort of Mexican conspiracy set up to test the bonds of marriage because after hitting a sextriple bogie, choice words were shared, clubs were thrown and well, I quit.

Without going into detail I explained to B that I’m bad at this game and often get putt-induced Tourette Syndrome. We decided to only score if someone got a hole-in-one. This was presumably easier and we didn’t have to carry around that creepy little pencil with no eraser. We also set up an escape plan. We would leave immediately if one three things happened.

1) either of us saw or thought we saw lightening

2) We felt rain drops other than windy splashes from the blue-water fountains

3) Someone urinated on us

I thought this was a pretty good plan and after a few practice putts I was ready. Can I just tell you that I made my own self look like a liar when I ROCKED that club like TIGER WOODS. Wanna take a ride on my disco stick? Because it’s officially on fire! On my fourth hole, I GOT A HOLE IN ONE! I don’t think, in my entire career of putt putt golfing, I’ve ever gotten a hole-in-one. THEN I continued to dominate that plastic grass green with 2-3 put shots. Thankyouverymuch I’m awesome.

Score: Tam 1; B 0

I smell a rematch coming on... or is that urine?

My blueberries taste like Lysol again

Remember as part of my new year’s resolutions I started using organic cleaners? So not kill my own brain cells? Right, well I did. Then yesterday some scruby guy started CLEANING our office. I say CLEANING IN CAPS because I never IN MY WHOLE LIFES have seen an office space scrubbed in this manner. Normally, I am a fervent advocate of such cleanliness and sanitation, however NOT in a confined space with six offices, ten cubicles AND NO VENTILATION! Yesterday he was here for FIVE HOURS! SPRAYING, SPRAYING, SPRAYING. He was wiping down the filing cabinets for shit sakes!! THEN I almost lost it on him, psycho style, when he started spraying some hideous smelling chemical cleaner INTO THE AIR! He said this would “cover up” the smell of the other god awful things he was spraying.

The whole thing made me want to VOM all afternoon. Thankfully he took his cleaning kart and left.

UNTIL TODAY WHEN HE WAS BACK!! SPRAYING, SPRAYING, SPRAYING!! I don’t know what he’s trying to procrastinate from doing, but wildly spraying cleaner in our work space is not a good use of his time, IMO. I actually hate him now. I HAVE CHOSEN not to subject myself to cleaners at home and now I am being forced to breath cleaning products for TWO DAYS STRAIGHT.

Yes. This is a rant. Yes, I’m losing my mind. Did I mention that we have to put in a special request for our office to be vacuumed? There is a crusty piece of lunch that has been sitting on the carpet under my desk for six months and then this guy shows up WITHOUT A VACUUM but armed with seventy spray bottles?? It’s like he used to work at the mall spraying perfume on people, but now has this job instead.

My friend S (who has her own office and is mostly away from the fumes) says I should do one of three things:

1) Ask him if he has some organic cleaners or at least something less offensive
2) Ask him to be done because there is no ventilation in our offices
3) Call his boss and ask her if he can be done

All of these options SOUP-ER SUCK if you ask me. How can I ask him to stop subjecting ME to toxins when it’s HIS JOB to subject HIMSELF to toxins? It’s not like I’m better, I’m just bitchier and winy-ier and cleaner dislike-ier. Those are all words, so shut up.

I just want to SCREAM and run around like that whacked out chick with the frizzy hair who just took a shower and spiders came out of the spout and started laying eggs IN HER FACE. I’m that girl right now! Where’s my mind? Because I’m pretty sure I just lost it.

Give my body to science. But don’t let those skeezy medical students grab my dead boobs.

Sandy, chickens and all that Jazz

I've been telling you about our list serve at work, right? Well this Monday morning Sandy has more entertaining news from down on the farm!

"I have an American Bulldog for sale. Jazz is a good dog. She is house broken, kennel trained, no problem with children. Jazz is a little over a year. We do not have papers on her - but she is 100% American Bulldog.

The only problem we have with Jazz is she likes FRESH CHICKEN and she chases our other livestock - so therefore we must find a home for her.

Jazz has been fixed. I am asking the $165 it cost to get her fixed or replacement of the 8 chickens she ate."

and if you're wondering... YES. She's completely serious.

Read more about Sandy

HERE

HERE

and HERE

Be Right Back

The morning sun wakes up the birds
My heavy eyelids begin to stir

The alarm sounds off at the seventh hour
I wipe away the sleep to see Matt Lauer

The bed is soft and hugs me in it
My bladder won’t wait one more minute

I wash my hair and toes and hips
My cat waits for some shower drips

I wrap my hair up like a snail
And head to the office to check my mail

I read the internets and update Face book
Then head to the kitchen to find something to cook

I eat some eggs and bacon at the table
then pack a lunch and wash the dishes if I’m able

Off to the bedroom to blow dry and dress
Picking out clothing makes my bedroom a mess

I rush around to finish getting pretty
I grab my cell phone and kiss goodbye to my kitty

With my purse and gym bag, I head for the car
It’s a good thing my office is not very far

I pull up in the lot just after nine thirty
Lock my car and off to my desk I scurry

But the moral, my lovelies, is more of a warning
For those of you that rush in the morning

No matter how much you look at your watch
You should always, always...


glance down at your crotch.

bugs like M&M's too

My co-worker has his 4-year-old at work today. No one gives an efff around her so, whatever.

Kids need things. A.LOT.

"Daaaaad I'm firsty"

Of course you're thirsty - your sitting in a grey cubical playing with a highlighter!

He shoots things in our office with his imaginary finger guns (my husband always says, the best toys are the ones you're born with!) Apparently, violence is encouraged in their household.

He did bring a toy turtle - a headless turtle at that.

Hey, you ask him, what happened to that turtle?

"I ated is hid off when I wiz a liddle kid"

He is very shy and won’t make eye contact with me.

I gave him M&M’s once, so today he stood outside my cubical (where I couldn’t see him) and said

“I need some M’s”

Shit. I gave him my last bag and I’m sure he won’t enjoy a lean cuisine. Sorry buddy!

He has taken it upon himself to fight off all of the bugs in our office (apparently there are “flying ants”) and exterminators are expensive so thankfully we have him on retainer.

Until they fly above three feet.

“Ders anoder one wite up der but I can’t weech it”

The first time I shot up was in my high school bathroom just before the bell rang

I rarely talk about my job.

Random person: Oh and what do you do?

Me: Research at the University.

Random person: Research, really? On what?

Me: Drugs mostly.

Random person: Oh, like clinical trials?

Me: No, like crack cocaine and heroin. I interview drug users and dealers.

Random person: oh…

[inevitable end to conversation]

When I was in high school, I thought that heroin was THE WORST drug imaginable. I assumed it was limited to the likes of killers and street junkies. I had seen my share of toke-toke-pass and even heard fleeting whispers of cocaine amongst the kids who rarely showed for class. In college, I passed on hallucinogenic brownies and handed some friends water while they spun out on Ecstasy at a rave one summer where my car windows were shattered and all of my coveted CD’s were taken. My dad was a cop, and I, the typical cop-daughter. Feeling enforced, pushing boundaries. I chose to rebel with ink and words as opposed to mind altering substances – but always kept an open mind on the subject. I felt I was not entirely ignorant to the presence of drugs in society, and even my own social networks, but never to the extent of seeing paychecks or needles wasted on the next hit.

Three years ago, one of my first interviews was with a 21-year-old white male. He was dressed in an Abercrombie & Fitch fitted shirt and ripped jeans. His feet were tanned and he wore leather sandals. His fingernails were clean and his hair was styled in a metro sexual sort of way. I could have mistaken him for an upperclassman in the halls of any suburban high school. He had been using heroin intravenously for three years. He shot up with his dad, who had “graduated” to heroin after struggling to afford the prescription painkillers he began abusing after a car accident years earlier.

I stared at the pair of them, before my eyes sat heroin users who were indistinguishable from any other suburban father and son you’d encounter buying chips at your local grocery. To them, heroin wasn’t for killers or street junkies – it was sitting on their living room coffee table next to a syringe, a lighter and a blackened spoon from the kitchen drawer.

And three years and hundreds of faces later – I am STILL taken back that whispers of heroin in the halls of Midwest high schools are as common as Snow Peak Peach flavored Boons.

I am disgusted by society’s glamorization of AOD rehabilitation.

I am amazed at the overdose rates of prescription opiates.

I am confused by the overwhelming prevalence of Hepatitis C.

I am appalled that the state continued to cut funding to Alcohol and Drug addiction services ONE DAY after a front-page feature article in the NY Times and another a few pages back both discussing the commonplace of heroin in the heartland.

These are all the reasons it's easier to just not talk about work.

Breakfast break

From Sandy:

I have a special today - 1 dz fresh eggs and 1 lb fresh pork sausage for $5. The sausage is from pig we butchered last month. We do not feed our livestock any antibiotics or hormones

With emails like this, it's no wonder people skip breakfast.

(I guess someone processed that hog after all...)

My milkshakes bring all the boys to my yard

Remember how I told you about Sandy from the list serve and the demise of every animal in her yard? She struck again last week with this lovely mental image, "A buyer backed out on me and I have an extra pig/hog. The way I do hogs is you pay up front for the cost of the hog plus the cost of feed. You are responsible for paying the butcher." Yay, thanks. I'll sit at my desk with a kosher ham sandwich and chew on the idea of a Charlotte's Web remake for a bit.

But wait, yesterday something EVEN BETTER came down the pipe...

WOMEN EMPOWERMENT FITNESS CLASS
Sign ups are now available for the upcoming Woman Empowerment Fatale Fitness class. Ladies, are looking for a new way to work out? Come check out the hottest new craze in women's fitness: poll fitness! University Activities Board and Campus Rec bring you the instructors of poll fitness and yoga from Fatale Fitness for a special one time 2 hour session on March 30th. There are only 20 spots available, so tell a friend a sign up today!

Um. WHERE.TO.START. Definitely not the notion that an official announcement could be laden with THIS many errors. Perhaps poll/pole was intentional? Like if you spell that one word differently people won't think you are training young college students to be strippers under the auspice of "women's empowerment"? Why wasn't I given this training opportunity in college? I couldn't quite make out the small print but I'm pretty sure it said "brief coke snorting tutorial and free eye drops to the first three registrants - panties optional"

WEB-LOG CONFESSION... I actually considered going.

After all, it is a real studio and was endorsed by our local paper complete with tutorial video footage (that pervert from Thailand is going be all over this one!) so why not take up a hobby? I knew my bedroom was missing something. Fung Sha-way this baby- let's put the cat box right next to my greasy stripper pole.

I mean the possibilities are endless - tone the upper body, build cardiovascular endurance AND FEEL EMPOWERED. If "poll" dancing is the newest craze and it really does burn calories while building self image - who's to judge? (Carmen Electra was never a very credible source)

Over the past 24 hours since receiving this email, I've actually pictured myself upside down on a metal rod wearing a mint floss bikini and four inch stilettos. I even threw in a belly button ring and a star tattoo on my wrist for good measure. So if the session wasn't IN MARCH? so expensive and REALLY far from my house - I would sign up. Physical talent should not be underestimated, and I actually think stair climbers and treadmills preclude women from expressing their femininity. And in a few months when I'm all 'Cirque du Soleil' on you people don't say you didn't hear it here first.

Let's take a POLE!

..and on his farm he had a BEEF, E-I, E-I, O-H!

So I work at a University and although I try to make it sound totally fun, cool and hip, there are some things that are just appalling about it.

1. College students use the same bathroom that I do. Ew!
2. I have cafeteria food at my disposal everyday.
3. People with PhD's are not smarter than that general population.
4. Some people here get "spring break", I am not one of them.

Also, there is a "list serve" that you can subscribe to. This list is supposed to be used to "announce" helpful things and yet it seems to be a place for political banter, garage sales, doctor referrals and general (documented) time wasting. Also, just because this is a University, you cannot assume everyone who participates in this list is educated, polite, politically correct or has even a shred of common sense.

UN-Official Rules of the list serve:
#1 Don't sell things - I don't care how many dog sweaters you've knitted.
#2 Don't talk politics - someone is bound to disagree with you.
#3 Don't make sarcastic or funny remarks - someone will take it the wrong way.
#4 Don't give advice - no one cares.
#5 Don't forward things - people will check it on snopes and make you look like a dumbass.
#6 Use correct spelling/grammar/punctuation - they will slaughter you otherwise.
#7 Don't post anything - it's just better this way.

Case in point, last week someone sent out this to the list serve:

I have a beef that is going to the butcher. It is homegrown. Fed corn and hay. No hormones or additives.

Would anybody be interested in buying
half of it. The cost would be $2.00 per pound hanging weight. This includes the cost of processing. You will get around 250 lbs of meet. In addition you can have it processed anyway you would like.

Sandy

This email raises the following issues:
Hanging weight? Ew!
You grew the "beef" ?
Punctuation!? Spelling?!
Who the crap needs 250 POUNDS of MEET?
Why not just say C-O-W???
What styles of processing are available Sandy?

BETTER YET. Two days later she posted another email:

for sale goat

I can have the goat processed

Sandy

To which I replied:
If anyone would like to split this goat with me, I would like the back end, processed schezwan style.

To which my coworker replied:
what is she doing? walking around her yard shooting anything that moves?????

To which another coworker replied:
what about the "processed" comment? You could add the goat to your colony - free milk for the cats and no grass mowing!

I think this conversation effectivly violated every single one of those rules, and I laughed my ass off for a good hour. Poor goat!

Jesus might be coming to my early birthday party

I am busy at work again, this is happening a lot lately and is really cramping my style. AND by the time I get home from work, cycling, yoga, grocery store, making dinner, showering - the idea of sitting down on my computer-battle-station to share my innermost thoughts and feelings with the Internets just doesn't strike my fancy. The couch does though. That, and making out in the guest room with my husband while we change the sheets (woot woot!).

Anyway, here are my RANDOM thoughts for this week:

I hate the smell of my vitamin B supplement and Subway restaurants. Both make me gag.

Any stress relief that a 5pm Yoga class may provide does not carry over to 10:27am the following morning.

I left my credit card at Tim Horton's this morning when I drove through for a breakfast bagel because I woke up too late to fix eggs.

I have been without a debit card for 3+ weeks now and I am very annoyed by this.

I am going to be a designated driver tonight so my husband can get bombed off his ass. I can't wait.

Tomorrow we are volunteering at a Special Olympics skate meet. Volunteering is good but I mostly just want to see my husband on roller skates.

The daffodils in my front yard came up this week, plus one confused hyacinth.

I ordered Proactive because my face is a nightmare and because Mermanda told me to.

Good News and Bad News

The bad news is: we are not going to rural Kentucky OR Hustler of Hollywood for Easter this year.

The good news is: I am getting my *birthday present* early - pretty much the same day Jesus is supposedly coming to town. He's invited to my party as long as he doesn't steal my (early) birthday thunder.

This morning:

Me: Ugh! I had a dream about a lady who gave birth to a cat-baby last night.

Husband: How did she do that?

Me: She had sex with a cat. In my dream this was totally acceptable, I actually wanted a cat-baby too. It looked like Harleigh, except small and white and super fluffy.

Husband: You should be happy today, you get your birthday present in nine days.

Me: Why nine days?

Husband: Well that's when we're celebrating with your family and since your brother went in on it, I think he might want to be there when you get it. Is that okay if you get it early?

Me: Then on my real birthday you will get me another present?

Husband: No, but I will give you a card.

Me: Okay.

I think my husband is giving me a cat-baby in NINE DAYS!!!

Yes, may I please speak with a Ms. Baby Mama?

Some Fridays I work for another study that recruits people from a DUI (jail alternative) program. Sometimes I like to read the intake forms for funsies. Keep in mind the people are not drunk when they get to the program.

(Sample 1) Race: American

(Sample 2) Race: Human

(Sample 3) Race: Cactation*

(Sample 4) Emergency Contact: Baby Mama 555-5555

(Sample 5) Occupation: Stripper (name of club)

*cactation = caucasian

Thank you this is very informational, excuse me while I laugh my aSK off.

Also I was at the dermatologist yesterday (having my tattoo blasted for the 10th time) and I was reading Shape magazine. I stole a page from the magazine (god I hate when people do this. I am that person.) with an ad for Caffeine strips. I haven't drank (dranken? drunk?) caffiene for over three years because of some weird sensitivity I developed to it. BUT sometimes, when I order decaf... I find out later (when I'm jittering and slapping my husband in the face) that it was, in fact, caffeinated. These test strips are great - finally a test stick you don't have to pee on to get it to work! I'm buying these. I wish I had them already.

Tonight is "husband-crashes-girls-night" We play this sometimes with Heidi and Jennie - they love it, they actually request it (like I'm not fun enough by myself!?) Husband always asks us to have a naked pillow fight or rub lotion on our boobies, because according to him, that's what girls do on "girls night." Unfortunatly, we're going to the movies (I Love You Man) so that won't be an option for tonight (as if it ever were an option). Although, I bet you five bucks (don't say "bucks" it's not ladylike) he'll still ask.

Happy Weekend! Cheers to a bunch of cactations getting drunk and having a naked pillow fight at the movies!

Frick My Life - say it with me!

I'm SOUP-ER busy at work, but I guess that’s what happens when you leave for a week. Today I went home for lunch and ate a cabbage roll (I like them, don’t judge) and I must admit the smell is a bit fartsy. I also noticed a speck of chocolate on the passenger seat of my car (Ack!) so I scrubbed the seat for twenty minutes like the OCD freak that I am. Driving back to work, I noticed the man in the rickety old truck in front of me was smoking a pipe. While stopped at a red light, all I could think about was getting out of my car, walking over to his driver’s window and sniffing inside his window. I imagined the smoke had a rich hickory smell with a hint of cherry. I love pipe smell, and besides I needed something to clear my nasal passages of upholstery cleaner and cabbage.

I imagine the conversation would have gone like this:

Alarmed man: What's you doing missy!?
Me: Just smelling.
Alarmed man: Giiiirl, you nuts! Get back in yo’r cahr
Me: Just one more sniff sir, I had cabbage for lunch.

Tonight we are going to Buffalo Wild Wings for some March Madness action (Go Duke! yay mini corn dogs!) Did I mention I bought into a sportsy basketball raffle for charity? (make your own sunshine march, remember?) AND the team they drew for me was...Louisville! If I were picking for myself I would have chosen based on which team wears the best costume uniform or the team that has the best hottest players – I almost always beat my husband’s bracket with this methodology. I like to win, so I hope winning is in my future.

Also a friend of my husbands turned me on to this website last night, it cracks me up so hard. I can't wait until I have a witty story to write in to FML

I especially like this one, only because my husband and I have this conversation on a regular basis:

Today, I went to the doctor to find out why I've been feeling so sick the past several weeks. Turns out, I'm severely allergic to the cat of my girlfriend of two years. I told her "It's me or the cat." She chose the cat. FML

Lastly, my birthday is in 23 days. I still have no idea what my gift is except for you can sometimes play with it and sometimes eat it and my husband isn't 100% sure that I will like it. 100 days of suspense for a gift I don't like? Is he nuts?

Please leave a message after the beep

Dear loyal reader(s)

I cannot come to the blog right now because I am having my assk handed to me by life. The stress is eating at my insides as if I swallowed a million tape worms and their babies. New Mexico, work, presentation, STATS FINAL, packing, dirty house, travel, AH! AH! AH! Can’t eat. Can’t sleep and I’m having a hard time being nice to people or caring about anything that anyone tells me (and unlike some people, this is abnormal for me).

It’s times like these when I realize that

A) I rarely use my brain these days and when I do it’s like starting up a rusty chain saw – still sharp but you might get tetanus if you get too close.

B) I handle stress worse with age

C) I know exactly why people snort Xanax. Honest to blog I thought about it this morning.

I am taking a break from my blog (unless I run into Taye Diggs in New Mexico and then I will totally brag about it on my blog the very second after we are done making out) until I get back.

If you stop by to see if I am back yet, leave me a message. I like when people do that. AND you can pray that the stress of my mildly eventful life doesn’t kill me.

Also: I saw a cute quote last night: “Good girls keep diaries…bad girls have blogs!”

Also: The Macy’s fine jewelry department is going out of business and everything is 60%-70% off with an additional 20% if you use your beloved red credit card. I saved some of my Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza money and with it, I’m buying myself a pearl necklace. Today. After work. Right after I check my belly button for tape worm babies.

Also: BEEP!

I'm BZZURK. Busy at Wurk.

My annual meeting for work is tomorrow so I am super busy today (Whoah? huh? what? job?). My dear birthday grandpa is still in the hospital so I have no news to report. I do report that I am PMSing *hard* today and almost told my coworker to shove a projector up his hee-haw, "No, sir, I don't know how to work your technologies, but I might just kill you with a blunt mitten if you don't exit my cubical."


I LOL'ed yesterday when my Ms. Magazine arrived in the mail. The cover is priceless and he stole my T-shirt!!

If you're bored and since I have no ideas how to use google reader or twitty... check these:

Obama!... the musical?

“Thank God. Has Cheney’s wheelchair left the building, too?”

Oscars were announced! (vote for Slumdog!)

My crazy friend A had her baby and named him Soren. (I see weggies and social isolation in his future.)

You can still register to WIN!

Oh, and join me in one of my New Year's Resolutions by doing THIS!

Also, the Jonas Brothers surprised the Obama girls by jumping out of a closet...IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!

I may or may not have run into my boss at Macy's today

Lots of things happened in 1980. Jimmy Carter bailed out the Chrysler Corporation (sound familiar?), we elected an actor for president, I was born and apparently a photographer thought Obama was really cute and is now probably making mad cash off her hunch. Other than the smoking, I probably would have thought he was cute too.

Happy Weekend - mine started 8 hours ago when I took a vacation day to meet my husband for lunch and go shopping. Happy weekend indeed.

All play no work

Today is my work "Holiday" party. It's a pizza party and there is a dessert contest. I made a penguin diorama of sorts - let's just say there may or may not be an igloo involved . Maybe if you're lucky I'll actually remember to take out my camera and snap a picture of it (and one of my boss slapping the lady from accounting for a Starbucks gift card.) I brought a book about poop for the white elephant gift exchange... it should be a GAS!
More to come...

(have fun at work SUCKAS!)

*update*
I WON 2nd PLACE! (even the penguins were surprised!)


...the Penguin Parfait.

Anthropology (the conference not the store)

My abstract, Ashamed, Alone and Addicted: Substance Abuse Issues Among Older Adults in Ohio was accepted for the Society for Applied Anthropology Conference and I was chosen as a session chairperson. Looks like my mom and I will be spending St. Patrick's Day in Santa Fe, NM...Yippee!!!