Parental Advisery is Advised....

I have to be honest, and must confess that believing in the Easter Bunny was very difficult for me as a child. No offense to my parents, because they did a great job with every holiday. They made sure to include all the special details and gave my brother, sister, and me anything that allowed us to have a wonderful childhood. Cripes, I believed in Santa Claus up until 6th grade!

BUT, that Peter Cotton Tail never made any sense to me.

When I have children I am not ever sure of the correct story to give them! Where does this bunny live? How does he travel, and in what time frame? How does he carry all those baskets? How big is this bunny? The questions are endless.

Sure, Santa has elves, lives in the North Pole, travels by sleigh pulled by 8 reindeer (or is it 9?), loves milk and cookies, and has a magical bag that holds a gazillion presents. Duh, I know all this.

You know those "Easter Bunnies" at the mall? Is that the actual size of THE Easter Bunny? If so, holy hell-- that could be scary.

Don't get me wrong, I do not want to be known as the Scrooge of Easter, but I hope I have enough time to figure this thing out before I have children in 8 years.

Happy Easter!!!!

Wishing everyone a happy holiday, enjoy time with your family and loved ones!

24 Going on 40

I gotta tell ya, getting old sure does suck.

This weekend I went out, and by went out I mean stayed out past midnight! Yep, still got it in me. It is currently Wednesday and I am still not caught up on my sleep. Par-tayyy animal.

Ah, to be young again.

People always say, "You're young- live life!" To those who think I don't live my life, I am perfectly content with staying in on a Friday/Saturday night with Johnny, watching hours of  Diners, Drive-In's, and Dives. Guy Fieri has the best job, and the worst roots.

Besides the recovery of going out, finding something to wear to go out is a very difficult task. As a 24 year old I do NOT want to be dressed like a skank, and I certainly do NOT want to be dressed like Old Mother Hubbard.  What do you kids even wear now a days?

Any way, here is proof that I am alive and that I still have fun...

Hello, My Name is...

For all those who were wondering, yes I am alive.

I can tell you a million reasons as to why I have been non-existent. But, lets just say...I needed a break. I still need a break. A tropical vacation may do the trick, but since that is not in the near or distant future, let me just fresh your minds as to exactly I am.

My name is, Tara.

This reminds me of a story, that I have yet to tell. I almost forgot about it until I witnessed a similar situation happen to my dear friend, Chandler Bing. Yes, I know him personally. Or, I pretend to know him. Same. Thing. (For those who do not know who Chandler Bing is, he's from my very favorite show, Friends)

Before subbing in the current school I am working in, I worked as a Teacher's Assistant in another school, for privacy reasons this school will be known as School X.
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And so it begins...

I worked at school X for about 6 months. All the people I knew were extremely nice, and are/were great people. Even the people who I didn't know, or who didn't know me were nice. Which brings me to the story...

One teacher, the only teacher who ate lunch with me in the faculty room (Yes, I am a loser. Yes, I am okay with that), referred to me as, Stacy. She would address me as Stacy, and not to be rude...I answered to Stacy. While eating she would say, "Hey Stacy,would you mind passing me the salt?" Or, "Hey Stacy, how was your weekend?" It even got to the point where she nick-named me "Stace."

As this had gone on for some time now, I was unsure as to how to address it.

This woman was the sweetest lady, and she was my only lunch buddy- so I didn't want to rock the boat, so to speak.

Well, one day I ended up working with her in the class she was in, along with another colleague. She kept referring to me as "Stace," but the other teacher/colleague had no idea who she was talking about and/or who "Stace" was. Until I finally, mustered up the courage to confess my true identity. I could barely get the words out because I found it extremely humorous and thought it would be a perfect skit for a sitcom (you're welcome, Friends).

After this, my lunch buddy STILL referred to me as "Stacy," and I am sure if I still worked at School X, she would've continued to call me "Stace."

Whatever.

So for my followers, if there are even any of you left. Let me remind you, my name is, Tara.

Thanks for stopping by!