I TOOK THE DAY OFF FOR ONCE. And I don’t mean from work, although I do that more than I should do too.

No, today I took the day off after work.

I didn’t make phone calls. I didn’t rush to Dale’s right after five, or watch a movie as planned with mom. I didn’t bother my sisters, or visit with Grams. I decided tonight would be a night to myself. No running errands, no doing favors, no doing chores.

This odd mood all started when a department at work was going to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. They extended an invite to me and the first thing I felt was excitement. The second was guilt. Who would I have to ask for permission? Would my family care? Would Grams watch Ollie? What time would we be back? And the calls! Oh the calls to be made to arrange a few hours to myself. I caved. I backed out. Besides, I convinced myself, someone might need me.

On the way home, I called Grams asking if I could go get a haircut. I texted all three of my sisters asking them their opinions on the matter. Once two of them had responded, I knew my answer – and it had nothing to do with my hair.  My short “yay or nay to short hair again” question was actually a version of “who should I be?”

I began to realize I’d hit a point where I couldn’t make my own decisions of what to do with my day, and I hated it.

The only way to remedy this was to have a day alone, to experiment.

I try my hardest to be a giving person, and make everyone happy. A day to myself just felt so selfish, and my eyes brimmed with tears just thinking about it. But why SHOULDN’T I spend time to myself? I’m constantly telling people that in order to make others happy, you have to be happy yourself, and I definitely wasn’t feeling that. I needed to take my own advice for once. Find out what Aubrey wants, without any other factors. Find out what Aubrey’d eat if she had the time, what shows she’d watch, where she would want to go. I had to look at myself as another person to even consider the idea.

I arrived home and grabbed a towel off the floor and changed from business lady attire to a swimming suit and flip flops. I left my phone inside and just relaxed, laid out in the sun. I planned on eating the junk food that was in my cupboard with reckless abandon. I tied my hair up, wore my rattiest clothes and ran in the field with Ollie like no one was watching. I ate ice cream straight from the carton while watching shows about people who didn’t know they were pregnant, and people who shed hundreds of pounds of weight.

Which gets me thinking. Is it possible to have such thing as an ice cream belly? I’m feeling one right now.

But I’m feeling something else. Content. At peace. Slightly happy. Sometimes a little TLC to myself is just what the doctor ordered.

I’M ONE WEEK FROM TWENTY, AND THERE ARE SOME SPECIFIC THINGS I WOULD LIKE. Now, before I go asking for the snazzy new iPhone, the shiny new car and the typical list of “I can’t afford this so can you get it for me?” stuff, I want to say something.

We all know that I’m a freeloader as far as healthcare, car insurance and rent goes, which leaves me with loads of dough to spend on whatever catches my fancy. But that’s not the point. Birthdays and Christmas aren’t about outdoing our outspending someone. It’s about celebration and the meaning behind the gift. I keep getting asked, “What do you want for your birthday?” but I already have everything I want (see my Two Weeks from Twenty post).

So what am I asking for to commemorate this monumental day? Here is a list of ten things that are all under five dollars, but would be priceless to me.

You really can buy my love – for free. Or at least, for cheap.

1: Homemade Fat Sticks. Mom, this one is your gift to me, because nobody knows how to make them, and even if they did, yours are always the best.

2: Cheesecake, but not just any scrumptious cheesecake-y confection. I want the store bought, boxed goodness also known as JELLO brand cheesecake.

3: A back rub. Bonus Birthday Love points if you give me a foot rub.

4: Dollar movie. Doesn’t matter if it is at the theater, or just your every day Red Box movie. Either way, I am sneaking in an enormous bag full of dollar store candy and canned soda.

5: Fridge magnets. I have a white fridge, hundreds of photos, and only three magnets. Get it?

6: Picture frames. About four of them – 5×7 frame size. I love the colors black, silver and grey, but I’m not going to argue if you get me some funky blue frame with polka dots. I have sneakers now for heaven sakes. I’m open to new styles.

7: Undershirts. If you go to that one Asian owned, Mexican run store that I can’t remember the name of – oh wait – Gen X, you can get me a new undershirt for five bucks. Size medium please.
Unless you’re shopping at Wal-Mart. Then please shop for my size in toddlers. Or whatev. (Refer to the shirt size fiasco here)

8: Headbands. I’m rocking them lately.

9: Mixing bowls, as cheap as they come.

10: Car visor CD holder-thingy. I’ve had mine for two years, which is possibly the longest I’ve owned anything. It is now falling apart and I’m not sure how much longer it will be able to restrain fifteen cds from falling on my head. And as long as we’re talking about CDs, you can always give me a mix CD of music you think I would like. I like surprises.

Don’t worry, I love the dollar store and all its merchandise. Feel free to get me anything from there. Yes, even bubbles, dog treats (not for me), junk food, and/or yard ornaments.

Scratch the yard ornaments. I’ll kill the first person that gifts me with a gnome. They give me the creeps.

THIS POST IS COMING TO YOU AT 1:oo AM. Because I am cool like that, and I couldn’t post about April Fools Day until it was officially April Fools. (Why do I keep typing April FOol’s with wrong capitalization?)

So…to entertain you on April Fools (I can’t stop), here is a little guessing game. I’m going to name which things may or may not be true about me lately. Your job is to comment and decide which are true, and I’ll disclose the answers in other posts, with details.

Number 1: “Pooping in the pool is NOT cool” is a sign I had the pleasure of viewing recently.

Number 2: I may be writing a post about the “number two” and yes by number two, I do mean poop.

Number 3: I’m notorious for saying things that I don’t mean.

Number 4: I’m engaged!

Number 5: I sang the Wizard of Oz song “Dun nun Dun Nun dun na na na na dunna dunna na nun!” to make a point lately.

Number 6: I have a favorite TV Show that I watch as often as I can.

Number 7: I have an ever-constant fear of being abducted by someone hiding in my stairwell.

Number 8: I lost twenty bucks recently and still haven’t gotten over it.

Number 9: I signed up for college and start classes on May 6th. My Birthday is on the 2nd. Happy Birthday to me – math classes! Oh joy!

Number 10: I am an obsessive blog stalker and I check for comments all the time.

To be truthful, a lot of you already know these answers. That is because I have a big mouth. But I don’t mind, I’d love your comments anyway (shoot, that just about gave away number 10)!

THE GREAT DEBATE I’ve obsessed over lately is what I should do with my hair. Should I go platinum? Dirty blond? Dark brown? Sassy red? Short hair? Long hair? Medium hair? Leave it, curl it, style it, throw it in a bun. . .there is just too many choices. I *almost* miss the times I didn’t have to think of these things, back in the day when I never dyed my hair, always wore a pony tail and didn’t care about the bangs that hung over my eyes. Then I got a wild hair to change all of this back in October, and I went from this:

To this:

Which was wickedly beautiful, until now six months down the road. The highlights have faded and I’m left with a Peppy La Pue skunk streak down the top of my head, with all the remaining highlights on one side and none on the other.

Fanfreakingtastic.

Last picture of my old hair, and I only posted this in case you’ve forgotten that I actually DO have teeth.

So. Now on to the real story, where I dashed into the mall, and the first place won’t do a color appointment after six. The second was run by two witchy girls that probably would’ve dyed my hair green if I would’ve went through with it. So my last, but probably best option was JC Penny’s, who had cut/styled my hair before. I lucked out, got the best stylist (Jennie is her name, and seriously, ask for her. She knows whats up.) So I trusted her with choosing the right shade of DARK BROWN.

I feel happy.

I feel cute.

I feel cocky.

And to be truthful? Even though I was shooting for a Bella Swan/Sara Evans hair color. . .it came out like Kate Beckinsale in Underworld. And I’m perfectly ok with that. I have the blue eyes, light skin, the dark hair, the obsession with fantasy, and I feel evil. Vampire AubMo, anyone?

Post note: No, I am not nakie in these pics. Even though they are modest and only show my shoulders (gasps!) I am also wearing a tube top. Which apparently doesn’t show up on head shots, imagine that.