If you want to look sexy while dancing, stand next to me.

I know that traditionally, I should be sharing some beautifully edited wedding photos.  But, 16 weeks after the wedding, I still don't have those.

But what I do have is evidence that maybe I should never dance.  Or at the very least, ban cameras within a 50 mile radius.

Because really, a girl's gotta dance...

The bottom right - AKA every bride's dream photo

And because I didn't want Justin to feel left out, here are a few of him, for good measure :)

Next time around, I'll share with you some of the most horrific kissing pictures out there.  Even I'm grossed out, and I'm the one doing the kissing.

Off the Wagon

Well, when I fell off the "blogging everyday in May" wagon, I really fell hard.

But to be fair, I had pretty much already decided I wasn't going to be blogging on the weekends (just  not my thing), and this week has been crazy because I'm in Chicago for a conference.

I haven't been too crazy about all of the "everyday" topics, but being as nosey as I am, I'm really liking the "day in the life" one.  Of course, being the procrastinator that I am, I haven't prepared at all for this, so I'll be back with that one tomorrow; a little glimpse into the life of a conference planner - how exciting! (please note that sarcasm). I'll try to snap some pics along the way, but it might be a little difficult without getting the side-eye from my clients. They're obviously missing out if they don't know how cool it is to take photos of food. Duh.

Passed OUT. (and I wasn't even drunk!)

And because I didn't show my momma any love on mother's day (on the blog that is, OF COURSE she was loved on in real life), I figured I take a second and say that I really am the luckiest just to have a lady like her in my life. And the fact that she's MY mom??? I mean, I REALLY hit the jackpot on that one. Despite what you all think about your moms, mine is the BEST. Period. End of story.

My mom in her pre-mom days.

PS:
More "retro" pics and parental love.
My post from a year ago, same conference.  Also the reason my blog gets a lot of traffic from pervs.

Moments to die for

I'd be the worst on a game show - I'm totally the person who freezes up when someone asks for a joke, the answer to any simple question, or, most infuriatingly, when Justin and I are fighting and he asks for me to give an example of what I am accusing him of.  Of course, I never can.  Until 5 days later and I'm all "Oo Oo Ooooo!!", but then it's too late. 

Same thing with this "embarrassing story"- I embarrass easily, so I should have plenty of examples.  I also do dumb things all the time, like the time I texted a client "I love you" instead of Justin. Oh, I also did that to my best friend's husband. Just spreading the love, people. 

But really, only one story springs to mind. One that has haunted me for the past 11 years, and is sure to for many years to come...

Dec. 19, 2002 - Our junior year of college and my best friend's 21st birthday.  Her birthday falls on Christmas break, so I road-trip down to Dayton, Ohio to celebrate with her.  We are, of course, staying with her family, so I am introduced to her lovely mother and adorable sisters (ages 15 and 10) for the very first time. One thing that needs to be said about her sisters at this time is that they weren't your average 15 and 10 year olds - Jessica at 15 looked about 11, and in my head I am picturing teeeeeny little Kelsey as the size of a 6 year old. Memory might be playing tricks on me here, but the point is, they were small, adorable, and innocent. 

Brandy and me circa 2002 - We didn't have fancy digital cameras, so yeah, it's a picture of a picture. Sue me. 

We all had a nice family dinner at home, after which Brandy and I left to meet up with friends to get properly white-girl-wasted to celebrate the fact that doing so was now actually legal. 

We went out, sang some karaoke, did some dancing, nothing out of the ordinary.  All in all, it was a great night (from what I remember). I woke up in Brandy's childhood bed the next morning, feeling much better than I deserved (and about 1000 times better than I would today), and heard her telling a story, a story that immediately made me want to crawl under her bed and never come out / DIE. 

Brandy tells this story best, but I'll give it a shot: 

It's about 3 AM, and she hears the "tinkle tinkle tinkle" of her little sister's doorway beads getting moved around. She doesn't think much of it until she notices that I'm no longer in bed with her.  Being the nice person that she is, she gets up to see what's going on.   

As she walks down the hall to her sister's room, she hears Jess give out a scared "Braaaan???". She hurries it up down the hall and flips on her sister's bedroom light. In one corner she sees her sister sitting up in bed clutching her blankets with a horrified look on her face. In the other -  well, in the other is the cause for her horror:  

Me, in a corner squatting. Squatting with my pants down. Squatting with my pants down peeing into a bag. Squatting with my pants down, peeing into a bag of CHRISTMAS PRESENTS, all the while smiling like a madman. 

At this point, the commotion wakes the family.  Her mom and other little sister come in from down the hall to see what's going on.  I continue with my business, all whilst smiling, remove the bag from my bottom, kindly say "goodnight" to the gathered crowd, go to the BATHROOM (you know, where normal people pee), wash my hands, crawl into bed and drift into the blissful sleep of the ignorant. 

Unfortunately, my ignorance didn't last long. Even though I seriously considered it, crawling out of the bedroom window and never seeing those people again just wasn't an option. In fact, "those people" were worried about MY feelings. ME, who had just traumatized little sisters and desecrated Christmas presents. 

11 years later, Brandy is still my best friend, and I am finally managing to see her mom without wanting to crawl under the nearest rock. Jessica even managed to recover enough to become one of my good friends, former-coworker and temporary roommate.  Those Armstrong girls are good stuff, I tell ya. 

Brandy, me, and Jess at my bridal brunch in Mexico

PS - Should you ever find yourself at a sleepover with me nowadays, I'm house-trained. I swear.

My moment

Day 9 of the Challenge! A moment in your day. 

I could have waited until later to write this post. I could have sought out something beautiful to share with you.  I could have even cheated, and gone through my camera roll and picked out some envy-enducing photo of beautiful San Francisco. I mean, those have been moments of my day, on some day in the past.

But here on the West Coast, the day has just begun.  It's 7:46 am, and although it's early, I've already been working for about an hour. I don't mind too much though, because here is the highly unedited version of a moment in my life today:

It's not glamorous, or well put together, or exciting, but it's mine and it's authentic. I figured that if you're even HALF as voyeuristic as I am (which, lets face it, if you're reading blogs, then you ARE), then you would like are "real", un-instagram worthy, otherwise-not-worth-sharing, moment into someone else's life - particularly when so many moments shared on blogs seem glossy and perfect.

So really, I know you're all thrilled and so "you're welcome".

Oh, and it the midst of typing this (now 7:59 am), this happened:

Puppy snores are about 1000% cuter than husband snores, no??

What's in a name?

According the blogging challenge, today I'm supposed to dole out some words of wisdom for you guys. However, I #1 obviously like to break rules, as evidence by my lack of blogging yesterday and Sunday and #2 Don't really feel qualified to give advice on much of anything.

So instead, I'm going to ask YOU for advice. And just, maybe, if you're lucky, I'll actually take it.

I am currently working with the talented Kristen over at Whiskey Tango Foxtrot to give my blog a little face lift, because let's not lie - it's looking a bit like it belongs to a 12 year old. The woman has the patience of a saint I tell you, because I am just about as slow and indecisive as one can be about this process. Oh, and the whole "About Me" section? Writing that makes me want to die a thousand deaths. It's right up there with writing a resume cover letter or a college admissions essay.  I'm not supposed to have to tell you how awesome I am - you're supposed to be smart enough to just know it.

Besides the "About Me" section, the other thing really holding me up is my blog name. Now back when I started this thing, I didn't really know about blogging.  I hadn't read a bunch of blogs and didn't really understand the community out there or what I wanted from my own blog.  I had just moved from the DC 'burbs, to DC proper and was living in what is called "The U Street Corridor".  My blog was going to be about all the things to do in the area, and I was thinking that people new to the city would read it and to learn about restaurants and shops and things.  Hence, "New on U".

Obviously that name is no longer applicable: I no longer live on U Street, and after just a few "review posts"(my second post ever, for example), I began taking this thing in a very different direction. Not only is the name not applicable, but it kinda drives me nuts that without knowing the real reason for the name, one might think I used "U" as an abbreviation for the word "You" - something I would nevernevernever do, upon pain of death, even when texting.

So my question to you; do I change my name?

Let's be honest, I haven't done some massive branding or even put a whole lot of effort into this over the past year (that might be changing), so it's not like hoards of people are going to be totally confused and upset and "OhMyGod! Where is New on U?? My life is incomplete without it!"

However, when some of my favorites have changed their names, I realized I was inadvertently skipping over them on my feed because I thought I didn't "know" them - their new names no longer rung a bell.

Help me out guys, so poor Kristen can get this project off her to do list.  Do I change, or stay the same??

*This picture is just because a.) I like posts with pictures better b.) I look ridiculous and c.) I never even told you guys I went to Alaska last fall - so look! Guys!  I went to Alaska! It was cold.

What I do

I eat. I love my husband. I travel. I try to stay warm. I worry about wrinkles. I spoil my dogs. I procrastinate. I cook. I miss my family. I lose things. I work out. I Instagram. I sometimes drink too much wine (or champagne, whatever the case may be). I read. I feel grateful. I long for South Africa and my monkey babies. I pick at my split ends. I carry guilt. I explore. I enjoy couch time. I love my new home city. I lose my patience. I love sunshine. I never drink enough water. I daydream about living abroad again. I watch too much TV. I empathize.  I love. I laugh. I LIVE.

*Day 6 of the challenge - "If you couldn't answer with your job, how would you answer the question 'what do you do?'" 

Quotables - from my mouth to dogs ears

Now that I'm working from home, I have a lot of QT with my dogs. While this is fantastic, it's not all sunshine and roses. They are adorable and all, but they are also needy and smelly and just plain gross. So here are the things I've been saying more than like to admit:

1.) "Shut the f*ck up, Mugsly!"
Neediest dog in the world.  Who also likes to "talk" a lot.  Not amazing on conference calls. Or just in general.

2.) "Stop eating your a*s, Bowser!"
Dude has some major anal gland issues (yes, we get that shiz expressed, but STILL), so he's constantly going to town on his butt hole; grunts, slurps and all. It's just as wonderful to witness as you might imagine. 

3.) "Do you love your mommy? Do you love your mommy? She loves yooooouuu!!"
I've embarrassed the dogs in my first two, so time to take one for the team on this. I'm ashamed, but at the same time don't freaking care. I love these guys. I mean, how could I not: