Wow.  I didn’t realize I had neglected this blog for so long.

New post by the end of this week, I promise.

All I want for Christmas is you, gorgeous Kate Spade bag.

Hello.  You can come live at my house.



This was a great day.  A fun day, a happy day, a great day.

I like to be in control.  I don’t think that’s a surprise to anyone who knows me.

I like being in control of what’s going on around me.  And yet, I ended up screaming tonight.  Screaming.  At the top of my lungs.  At someone.

And it’s making me doubt something, and wonder something.

I hate that.

Testing, testing…

So, I had some more tests run this week, and I’m expecting to hear from the doctor on Thursday.  But the nurse did call with some preliminary results, and…they’re not bad.  They’re not over-the-top great, oh-my-gosh-why-aren’t-you-already-pregnant great, but they’re not bad.  So that’s a positive.  🙂

Also, I had my girls weekend trip this past weekend, which was much needed.  Beach?  There.  Wine?  In hand.  My sweet pup?  Having a ball.

Lovely ladies I’ve been friends with since college?  Absolutely.

Hit, and Hit Hard

Mr. JST and I got some not-so-good news on the baby-making front yesterday.  Basically, the odds are against us, and I have already scheduled an appointment with a fertility specialist for next week.

It’s a strange thing to process – infertility.  Like, “what do you mean, I may not be able to have a baby?”  I’m only 31.  I have a regular cycle.  I have normal pap results.  But you’re telling me that I have fewer eggs than I should have for my age, and they may be of poor quality?  But that’s not fair.

I have a feeling “that’s not fair” is going to be repeated a lot over the coming months.  But I’m also pretty sure that there’s very little about fertility that is fair.

Woe Man on the Street

I should not be allowed to participate in those “Man on the Street” interviews.  It never turns out well.

When I was a kid, I was interviewed by my small town’s weekly paper.  They posed the question, “What do you like most about summer?”  to me and three other children.

My answer?  “The hotness.”

Gracious.  One would think that I had never taken an English/Language Arts class.  Either that or I was really ahead of my time, and I was talking about the “hotness” of the pre-pubescent boys at the community pool.  Who knows?

A couple of weeks ago, I was approached by the Editor of one of the intown papers here in Atlanta, and I was asked the question, “What is your favorite college football team, and why?”  This is a softball question for me, y’all.  This is EASY.

Seriously?  SERIOUSLY?  Not only do I look drunk and shiny, with a wonky eye (plus, Lolita looks adorable next to me) but I’m also completely incoherent.  If you can’t read the text above, it says:

I am a Georgia alum.  That is my team.  I went to Georgia from out of state.  I am initially from South Carolina.  So, I became a Georgia supporter, but I was not raised a Georgia supporter.

What does that even MEAN?  And who cares where you’re from – that wasn’t the question!

Note to self: No more “Man on the Street” interviews.  EVER.


…to resurrect my blogging identity.

It’s the Friday night before the first UGA home game of the year.  If one were to rewind to eight, five, or even two years ago, Mrs. JBT would look awfully different.  She’d be excited, frazzled, attempting to organize, cook, clean off chairs, tables, tents, equipment, clean out coolers, prepare menus, and plan the perfect gameday attire.


Tonight?  I’m on the couch with a glass (aka bottle) of wine and my sanity intact.  A begrudging thanks to Michael Adams for his enlightened tailgating policy, which basically prohibits me from continuing my obsessive tailgating preparations this year.   I would have liked to make this decision on my own, but you know what?  I’m okay with it.  I’m okay with no planning.  I plan to enjoy leaving Atlanta in someone else’s car at 8:00 tomorrow morning, spending our time before the game in a downtown bar/restaurant, cheering on my Dawgs in Sanford Stadium until at least halftime (with no guilt if we do decide to leave then), and spending the rest of the day/night watching other games from the loveliness of my couch.  I must admit, however, there is still some obsessing over the gameday outfit.  A Georgia girl doesn’t just get over that without a serious intervention.

In other news, am I the only one who is smitten with Old Navy’s Boyfriend Cardigans?  I bought one in white back in early summer, and I wear it constantly.  So today, when I went by to return some shorts (I hate shorts.  Why did I buy these in the first place?), and I saw that my beloved cardigans were on sale for $10 each, I snatched up 2 – in black and taupe.  My lovelies, all set for fall.  Yum.

Happy Labor Day!  Oh, I am glad to be writing again – big yays.

I got the job…

…and I’m a little bit shellshocked.  After everything that we’ve been dealt over the last two years, it really feels like things are turning around.  It’s crazy and awesome and scary and exciting, and I CAN’T WAIT.

This life is going to be so much fun.


My husband doesn’t know I blog.  And if he knew, he wouldn’t approve.  He thought my blogging about our wedding was inappropriate, and he hated having his picture out there on the internet.  I get it…he’s a private guy.

But sometimes, I need an outlet.  And if this is my outlet, so be it.

Nobody’s life is easy, I know that.  And sometimes, you go through more difficult patches than others.  I’ve been on a good stretch lately.  But it also seems as though just as things started to drift back in the positive direction, I started taking hits again.

The woman I work for refuses to consider giving raises.  When we try to logically approach her about earning more money, her response is always, “Sell more dresses.”  What have we been doing?  Oh, you know,  just selling more dresses.  We’re making her a lot of money, but she insists that she has none to give her employees.  However, there is plenty to install new windows, re-landscape the front of the store, and even sod her yard at home.

Also, I’m being considered for a new job.  A fabulous job.  A job that I really really want and would be awesome at.  So there’s that.

We want to have a baby, and that’s not working out so well so far.  I don’t want to get into details.  It makes me uncomfortable and sad.  I’m not ready to put my disappointment into physical words just yet.

And the hardest part – I’ve given my husband an ultimatum on something.  I hate ultimatums.  I don’t think they’re particularly effective, and they just serve to piss off all parties involved.  But I was backed into a corner, and I could not see any alternative.  Because he’s so private, I can’t give more detail.  But I do feel like I’m being tested, and I don’t know why.

So yes, while life is good, I’ve hit a bit of a rough patch.  I don’t like it, and I’m ready for it to be over.  Yes, this is all very “poor me,” and I apologize for that.  But sometimes, life is like that.  You have those moments, and you get past them, and looking back, you’re amazed at how strong you were.  I can’t wait to look back and see how strong I was in this instance.

Sales, Part One

Working in sales is a funny thing.  I never, in a million years, thought that I could be even a halfway-decent salesperson.

I was educated and trained to work in government affairs – to be a corporate lobbyist.  So, in a sense, I guess I was supposed to be selling something – ideas and policy proposals.  I’m a pretty smart person, and I knew what I was doing, but in my former career, I always felt like I was a couple of steps behind.  Maybe it’s because when it comes to politics, everyone has an opinion, and in a sense – everyone is an expert.  I’m not confrontational or argumentative.  I’m not partisan or extremist.  I always felt like I was in over my head.

My husband can speak in front of a crowd and win them over in a heartbeat.  He doesn’t even have to be incredibly well-versed in the topic about which he is speaking…he’s just good at it.  That is so not my forte.  I’m much better on paper or in one-on-one conversation.  I don’t think that I’m very good at coming across as an expert on anything.

I’ve said before that losing my job was the best thing that ever happened to me.  With every day that goes by, I believe this more and more.  If I may make another confession, losing my first job in wedding gown sales was another good thing.

I don’t think I’ve actually written about this before.  Last year, I worked at another shop in Atlanta for three months, and I was fired because I didn’t sell enough.  I showed up for work one day with a plate of cookies, and the owner told me that I needed to go home.  I would be paid through the end of the month (which happened to be the next day), and that was that.  My cookies and I went home.  She said that selling dresses just wasn’t my thing.

Three months after that, I started working at the shop where I work now.  Within three months, I broke a record for most money earned by a single salesperson.

Yup, sales must not be my thing.