Road trip adventures!

Hey friends!


If you’re wondering where I am today, I’m guest blogging over at The Simplicity of Being Curious for Kim while she is moving! Take a look, and learn some of my favorite road trip tips and tricks…as well as some awkward stories that can only come from a naive 20something who decides it’s a good idea to plan a 5-day cross-country road trip to get her to some housemates she found on Craig’s List. 


Go read more! 


Also…this month I will only (with the exception of today) be posting on my Blogger site. I am trying to decide where to permanently host my site, and a big part of that is seeing which format readers like better. So please stop by, and of course–LEAVE COMMENTS! I LOVE hearing from you (needy hands needy hands**)!!

Dear crazy bitch who took my engagement ring

Dear crazy bitch who took my engagement ring:


Thanks for taking that piece of crazy off the market!

Love, Autumn

Dear ex:

When she’s walking down the aisle, try not to think about when you saw her cheating on you with another girl. In your bed. It’s not a threesome if you’re not invited–but keep in mind the threesome will probably be invited to your wedding. Specify you don’t want her on your honeymoon, too. Oh, and, thanks for taking that piece of crazy off the market!

No Love, Me

Dear Red Robin,

Thanks for hosting the worst engagement of all time. Was that the first time someone has sunk low enough to get engaged while eating a burger?


Dear Sigma Chi:

For the first time, I can say I truly will miss you tonight. You were there for me when this ordeal ended, and you would be there for me now. I’ll miss your sweaty frat boy hugs, the overwhelming stench of sticky, spilled liquor, and the never ending party you would have thrown for me.

Love, Autumn

Dear Sigma Chi pledges:

I hope you learned to stop listening at closed doors. Though my conversations are pretty hilarious, I’ll give you that. Don’t worry, one day you’ll have enough drama to have closed doors too. That’s what happens when you go to a school of 1,000 people for four years. I hope you’re still making right-angle turns in the library and wearing the worst combination of bow ties and plaid shirts.

Love, Autumn


Dear Nashville:

Thanks for providing the perfect song to play while writing this post. Love, Me


Dear Daddy:

Thanks for putting it all in perspective by simply responding with “Someone sure was watching over you!”


Love, your daughter





Dear readers:

Don’t forget that I also have a Blogspot account, so if you like using Blogger Dashboard or Google Reader, you can follow me at

Love, Me



Domestically Dentally Disabled

I had to go to the dentist yesterday. And I cried like a small child. So much so, that they brought a second hygenist in just to whisper words of encouragement. She told me that “going to the dentist is hard, but I was doing a really good job.” Which of course just made me cry harder. Yes, ladies and gentleman, that’s right. I have a phobia of the dentist. To give you a picture of just how legitimate this was, they offered to help me find a dentist who practices full sedation so I could be knocked out while they work on my teeth.


Fortunately for me, dental disability is not my only fine, fine characteristic. I am also domestically disabled. If you don’t believe me, check out these texts I found from my weekend adventure trying to cook Whiskey Walnut Blondies for the Super Bowl: