Shades of Blonde

Bustin' a Move

2011-07-08T22:58:00.003-06:00

I was going to wait until I had nothing to do before returning to Blogland. With our visitors from Australia, a flooded basement, another water leak a week later, my daughter's pageant, Yellowstone, Disneyland.....I haven't had a chance to catch up! Then Seth shared with me this hilarious story:

Seth walked his girlfriend out to the car to say good-bye......his little sister (Mimi, 11) decided to follow them. As they had their arms around each other waiting for the right moment for the goodnight kiss, Mimi stood three feet away from them. Unaware of the awkwardness she was causing she stood there, dancing to the beat in her head, wiggling her hips and shaking her booty. The young couple looked at her, trying to give her the hint. Finally, Mimi said, "C'mon, Seth. Let's do the Macarena so we can go inside."

Personally, I like doing the Hustle.

Conversations With Ten Year Olds

2011-05-13T21:50:00.002-06:00

Mimi called me at work today and the conversation was so good I had to put her on speaker phone so the other secretaries could enjoy it:

Mimi: You know how I was grounded this week?

Me: Yes.

Mimi: Well, I've been trying really hard to be a better person. Have you noticed I've been a better person this week?

Me: Yes.

Mimi: I've been trying really hard not to yell. I've only yelled about four times this whole week! I usually yell that much in a day!

Tonight as I picked her and Hannah up from the skating rink for a school skate night:

Mimi: It started off boring. It was boy's choice and that means the girls all have to stand in a line with their arms out like this (holding her arm out horizontally, waiting to be tagged). Luckily......no one picked me. When it was girl's choice I just skated around the circle - I didn't want to pick anyone.

I laughed thinking how different this conversation will be in a year or two.

Lady in Waiting

2011-04-08T20:38:00.006-06:00

I posted on Facebook today that I hate waiting. I'm not a patient person when it comes to wasting my time. I went to work and then straight to the doctor for an appointment where I waited. And I waited. And can you believe there were NO FREAKIN' female magazines! Well, there were baby magazines, Family Fun, Parenting, Golf, ESPN, Car and Web MD. There was also a Bible that I figured was there for people who are really sick and need to change their wicked ways.

Back to waiting. I read the entire Bible.....well, I could have if I knew I'd be waiting for an hour and fifteen minutes. Then the medical assistant asked me to step on the scales and I whined like a four year old, "I didn't want to get weighed today."

She was very sympathetic, "I know, with this cold weather everyone has all those extra layers on." 'Cause it's bloomin' snowing today, folks - snowing in April!!! As if Pia getting voted off American Idol wasn't stupid enough.

The numbers appeared on the scales, "I don't really weigh that much." She humored me, "How much do you really weigh?" I subtracted 29 lbs. "Really? 20 lbs of extra clothing?" she asked.

"You do realize I'm here for depression and you're really not helping matters." She led me into another room where I waited for another 20 minutes. Newsweek or Marie Claire? Holy crap. I'm already smart and beautiful. They have nothing to offer me.

I went to the pharmacy and I had to wait some more because they didn't have my prescription ready. Then I was told my med needed a FREAKIN' PRE-AUTHORIZATION and guess what? Because I waited so long at the doctor's office it was now 5:00 in the evening and I would have to wait until possibly Monday. That gives me two more days to possibly go on a crime spree.

My husband suggested we go out to dinner and because I'm very considerate of his time, I decided to warn him about the waiting time. So we decided to meet there and while I was telling the kids to get in the car he called and asked me to wait for him instead. When we got to the restaurant they had a waiting time of 45 minutes. You add that to the waiting time it takes for the server to take your order and then the waiting time to bring your food, the drink refills, the free bread sticks, the mints and the bill and ........ so we went somewhere else.

Mimi needed to go to the bathroom and so I came with her to show her where the bathroom is and took the opportunity to wash my hands. As we were leaving I caught a glimpse of a very large brown slug on the floor in one of the stalls. I stepped back to take another look and it wasn't a slug. I said, "Ew. Is that a turd?"

"I can't look or I'll be sick," Mimi says. She was obviously switched at birth.

That had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of this story, but I thought you would like that part. Your welcome. But at least I was a responsible parent and chaperoned my kid to the bathroom unlike some. At least I hope that was a kid......or a stray animal. Did I mention this restaurant kind of rhymes with Crapper Barrel?

I guess I won't be tying my stories together, they are what they are.

"Voices, Continued" or "Oops! I Pushed the Wrong Button!"

2011-03-28T20:44:00.005-06:00

When I had a spare minute the other day I thought I would add a little more to my last blog post that was supposed to be saved as a draft. I saw comments needing to be moderated. I looked at the screen in confusion, "Why would I have comments?" Then it hit me. I must have published my last post. So if you are suffering from the inertia it may have created when it came to a quick halt, I apologize. Where was I?

Yes, no voice. For seven weeks. It may seem like nothing, but this is how we communicate with each other. I know what it feels like to have a disability. People have no idea if you are intelligent, kind, angry, rude, sarcastic or any other emotion. Whispers come out mono-toned, like texting, except you can use all caps when you text to put an emphasis on words. I had to get good at Charades so people would know what I was talking about, especially in noisy places. You should have seen the kid's face at KFC when I ordered the chicken breast.

It was by accident I found out I could say one word without a problem. I was describing the voices in my head and how they were sounding a lot like Yosemite Sam. So I said a word that sounds like "spit" and my voice came out normal. I realized I didn't have laryngitis - I have Turrets Syndrome. During these last two months I have had to go to a Speech Pathologist for voice therapy. Who has ever heard of such a thing? I had to go around sounding out "mmmmm" on an exhale. Then it progressed to "mooooo." If anyone had any doubt that I was insane, it was all out at that point.

So that has been my trial this year. I feel as if I am overcoming an illness and can see the light of day now. When I went to work today, my friends came in the office to hear me speak, because they said they forgot what I sounded like. Our volunteer that has been coming in for over a month had never heard my voice before. I can answer the phones again. I can call my Mama. I can laugh. Most of you probably didn't even notice.

Voices

2011-03-22T22:43:00.001-06:00

Some of you know I have been suffering with a voice disorder for going on seven weeks now. Suffering for me, blessing for others. I can say that I am every husband's dream right now. If you're a friend on Facebook, then you know there have been days I have tried to joke about it, there have been meltdowns, there has been sarcasm, and sometimes no mention of it at all.

It's kind of hard at this point not to think that God has some sort of personal vendetta out for me. It seems the things I enjoy doing, He takes away from me. I was an artist and my hand/wrist is full of pain and surgery didn't correct the pain - just gave me a different pain. I love to sing and after that surgery I do not have a voice. I'm not talking I don't have a beautiful voice - I can barely whisper, which takes much effort and if I talk too much I get light-headed.....not to mention my larynx actually hurts. I'm predicting the only thing left to take is my love of food, which now that I mention that.......I have had a metallic taste in my mouth since December and nothing tastes normal anymore. So maybe I will lose contact with everyone I know due to a traumatic brain injury in the near future. That's my Debbie Downer story for the day.

So when I was sitting in a church at a funeral, my friend graciously shared the hymn book. I waved my hand like I was turning down a serving of duck liver mousse on crudites. "Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting you can't sing," she says with a friendly smile. When you don't sing, you hear everyone around you. A person sitting behind us snorted. I think it was more like an accidental pig noise when your uvula trips over the back of your tongue. Then I heard the same person trying to make their voice match the low vibration of the organ. Then I heard this person's voice scoop to a squeeky high note. This was a lady person, who happened to have no control over her vocal cords and probably over her bladder. Then the conversation with her friend started, "What a shame Danny's not married." "He's not married?" "Well, he was engaged once, but it didn't work out." "He's such a good looking boy, too, what a shame."

Then that night we went to Ali's high school production of "Peter Pan." This time the person behind us was a four year old little girl and her grandma. As Wendy comes down from the air with an arrow through her and the lost boys laid her on the ground, she asks, "Is Wendy dead? Is she dead?" When the pirates were fighting she says as proper as she can, "That's not very nice."

Two Tonsillectomies

2011-02-20T15:39:00.007-07:00

Have you ever been with someone that isn't very talkative? Do you feel the need to fill in for the lack of conversation and start talking incessantly and next thing you know you've told them your life story? Then you find yourself lying there on the floor in fetal position under the coffee table with your bishop's phone number on speed dial and you feel really stupid because this person knows everything about you and you know nothing about them? Me neither.

You may have noticed I haven't been around much since November. Well, without going into details that would even cause a maggot to barf let's just say I have had some issues. With my throat. The Mayor of Whoville and I have something in common, besides the fact that we're both Republican.He boasted that he had 2 tonsillectomies. In November, I had my second tonsillectomy as an adult. The first one was about 8 years ago. I knew what was coming. I knew just how bad it was going to be. I knew better than to try to eat Spagettios. I didn't know I would be struggling three months later with voice complications. I have spent six weeks out of the last three months with no voice. I see trying to communicate with people other than verbally a complication. Some see it as a blessing. Smart @$$es.

I clap my hands or whistle to get people's attention. I have to play Charades and try to get people to understand what I'm saying. I feel like an idiot. A frustrated idiot. So, I'm going to start using a dice with sayings on it so people don't have to guess what I'm saying. Since there are six sides I will only have six sayings. Of course, there are the two obvious answers, "yes" and "no". For crutial answers that need to be answered verbally, side 3 will read: "Read My Lips" also known as "I can't remember".

Side 4: "Whatever" or "Crickets Chirping" or "I did not inhale."

Side 5: "That doesn't even deserve an answer" or "Come a little closer so I can slap you."

Sides 6: "I heard you, I'm just ignoring you."

I have a lot to catch you up on, and since I'm spending much less time on the phone and giving public speeches I should have more time now.

Taking One For the Team

2011-02-12T21:15:00.002-07:00

I am alive. Barely. I know I have been neglectful in reading and writing. My head hangs in shame. I will try to do better. For some light entertainment please visit my other blog link for this time.

Halloween Leftovers

2010-11-15T22:25:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else have leftover goodies from Halloween? Notice there's never any leftover chocolate? I only have one official Trick-or-Treater now. This is Mimi the Diva. In other words she dressed as herself this year. It's all about me, me, me! It's hard being the baby of the family.
We had a little party at Randy and Kari's house. I loved the metallic bronze eyelashes that were discarded halfway through the night. I'm sure the reflected light had something to do with that. And, yes, they are as fun as they look.

We laughed and laughed and laughed. We laughed so hard our cheeks hurt, our sides hurt, our heads hurt, we were coughing, sputtering, hooting, howling, crying, snorting, breaking chairs, nearly wetting ourselves, and almost passing out from the lack of oxygen! Our kids were begging us to stop! And that, folks, is not an exaggeration. We were drunk on laughter. This is Ricky and Dianne.

This is me and my dear husband, Jared, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I also dressed as myself this year. I already have next year's costumes planned.

The kids need leftover candy so we can steal it to give us energy for the Christmas shopping the next day. Did you hear they were trying to change Black Friday? (Linked up for my foreign friends that might not know what that is, since you totally miss out on Thanksgiving altogether.) I don't shop early on Black Friday. I don't like to see the ugly side of people. I think it's a taste of what it will be like when/if we have a world economic collapse.

So....coming up - my daughter Ali is performing in her high school musical - Opening Night Tuesday night, Nov 16th. She is Sandy in "Grease". It was meant to be her part - she was BORN in Australia, you know! She was speaking Australian up until she was three and a half. Seth spoke with an accent until he was about six. People would ask him how old he was and he would answer, "Fahv and a Hawf." I'll try to post some more in the next few days. Lots happening!

Spooky Stuff

2010-10-25T22:14:00.010-06:00

First, I'll start with a horrific story. I ran into an old classmate at a high school get-together. Some losers never change. He was drunk and obnoxious and he even tried to sexually harass me. I was seriously traumatized.

I've been decorating for the season. This is my new favorite decoration. I got it at Just A Bed Of Roses. It's the funnest store ever!

I made this lovely creation for a family get together. It was a big hit.

Dumpster Cake

3/4 cup heavy cream

1 1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

1 tsp. pure vanilla

Heat cream until boiling, stirring constantly. Pour over chocolate chips. Stir until completely melted and add vanilla. Put in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes.

1 Chocolate Cake mix

Follow directions on the box and put mix in a bundt pan. Drop spoonfuls of the chocolate chip mixture in the batter - reserving 1/4 cup. This will create a "lava" filling. Bake according to directions. Remove from pan immediately (flip onto a serving platter).

1 large vanilla instant pudding mix

1 small chocolate instant pudding mix

Green food coloring

Make up puddings. Add green coloring to half of the vanilla pudding. When cake is cool drizzle puddings and reserved chocolate (reheated) and decorate with gummy worms, candy corns, Reese's pieces and anything else you like - that will look gross. (Gummy Rats, Body parts, etc.)

BEWARE! It is very yummy!

Getting Back to "Normal"

2010-09-26T21:44:00.010-06:00

I'm waiting for my life to get back to normal. I've had another absence again, but with good reason. My dear step dad passed away on September 17th. Art has been my step dad for 25 years. Even when a person is considered elderly, even when their health is failing, I still don't think you are ready for it. He was "terrible good" until the end.

The Patriot Guard Riders escorted us to the cemetery on their motorcycles and saluted Art, an army veteran and a Harley Davidson rider when he could ride. They made a path to his final resting place, while his grandsons carried him in the casket he made himself.

There's a lot of deep thinking when someone close to you passes away. It's as if everything has paused for you but life is still running in fast motion for everyone else. You contemplate what is really important and realize there are many things that force you to lose focus on them - like work, school, and fatigue.

I've been thinking a lot about these things. Not the fatigue part but the work and school part. This posting has been so serious - not like me. I'm trying to get back to normal. These things help me:
This is Ali with her friend Rob before their Homecoming Dance.
This is me and Holly in the back, KyAnn, Jackie, Lisa and Shauna in the front. We had a Girls' Night Out and ate at an Italian restaurant and talked about blogging. It was nice to get out and laugh with some of the funniest and nicest "girls" on the planet.

Okay, now that I got you caught up, I can't leave you without a funny story. I was shopping in my second home, aka Wal-Mart, when an elderly lady asks me if I knew the store very well. I know the store better than I should and she asked me where the tampons and Kotex would be. I told her they were on the other side of the pharmacy on the right. She turns to her husband and says, "See Harold. I was close but no cigar." Don't worry, I didn't laugh out loud.

Bloggin' BFFs and a Bathroom Story

2010-09-14T22:07:00.004-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to meet a good friend of mine. Yeah, she is my good friend but we had never actually met! We went to lunch had a great time eating salads, talking, laughing, laughing some more, and we even had cheesecake under peer pressure. You know, "I'll have a piece if you do," and "I'll have a piece if you don't tell anyone I ate the whole thing by myself and licked my plate in public."

This is Lisa from Blue and Shoe, KyAnn from Checketts-Myers Clan and this is a rare photo of me. You know how much I love to get my photo taken. Lisa and KyAnn, you may notice a little Photoshop enhancement, erasing of any food particles still left on our face, removal of double chins and I gave myself a breast augmentation. Eh hem. There's only so much you can do in Photoshop when you start with a picture from a cheap camera with bad restaurant lighting.

I missed the other "Blog Friends" get together that KyAnn got to go to because I go to school on Thursday nights. I'm considering changing my night to Monday night. It seems I am missing a lot of things on Thursdays. I cried on Sunday because I'm missing Mimi's "Back-to-School" Fashion Show with the church activity days for girls age 8-11.

On another note, we had an emergency here tonight. For friends on Facebook who watched the drama unfold, you know I can't pass up a good toilet story. I will spare you the photos for this one......and I actually spared myself. There are no photos. It was almost as bad as this time.

Ali came upstairs and complained that the toilet was clogged in the basement. Jared went down and checked it out. He then proceeded to yell at Seth who I guess didn't feel like doing anything about it. I was upstairs in my room listening to the yelling that went on for about ten minutes. I found it a little humorous that they were having such a huge fight over a clogged toilet. We all know, Dr. Phil, that it's not about the clogged toilet. It's about the owner of the "problem" that won't accept responsibility. It's about adding more fiber to some one's food.

Then Ali tells me it's been like that since Sunday. That is wrong on so many levels. But I thought it was kind of funny. So my husband had to run to the hardware store to buy a "power plunger." This was one stubborn obstruction. Jared said he was going to go back to the hardware store to buy a snake. Mimi thought she was going to get a new pet. I downloaded a video so you can learn to use a Plumber's Snake, not a Toilet Snake like I was calling it. The toilet snake may be part of the problem. I was hoping to see more action in this video. I'm thinking when Jared uses the toilet snake I better get it on video. Maybe I'll even have a go with this little beauty!

Anyway, you can call off the exorcism now. Satan has fallen out of someone's bottom.

10 Useless Bits of Info

2010-09-03T21:32:00.002-06:00

My sweet friend Holly at Diamond Potential gave me this sweeeet award. I accept it most humbly and graciously. I met Holly at CBC and it was great to meet her and develop a new friend. With this award you must:

1. Thank the person that gave you the award.

2. Share 10 things about yourself.

3. Pass this award to 10 bloggers you have recently discovered and think are fantastic.

4. Contact the bloggers and let them know you picked them for the award.

So here is ten useless pieces of information about me that you could care less about!

1. My favorite song at the moment is "If We Ever Meet Again" by Timbaland and Katy Perry.

2. I am an artist and I believe in the psychology of color. I believe in surrounding yourself and wearing colors that make you happy. If you feel a little blue, wear a color that you love, that you get a million compliments in, that you feel beautiful in. I decorate my house in bright colors and go against the popular taupe and brown decor. I think your house should reflect who you are and if you are like everyone else then......go for it.

3. My favorite color is PINK. There's not enough of pink in this world.

4. I love to entertain. We have a New Year's Party every year (you're invited - it's open invitation) and try to do a "How to Host a Murder" at least once a year. Many spontaneous game nights and dinners out. I also like to be invited to other people's houses so I don't have to clean mine!

5. I like to put on foreign accents. I especially like to put on accents when I'm going through drive-thru restaurants. I know it's demented, but I find humor in putting on a heavy Asian or Hispanic accent to see this innocent, professional looking, matronly woman paying for my "bee-skeet" (that would be a Carl's Jr. biscuit) with my coworker in the car. Blink, blink. And BTW McDonald's, don't forget my Madam Alexander toy or I will be back. You know how important they are to the kids. Blink, blink.

6. I used to be like Martha Stewart. I can cook or sew or make just about anything. But why? I'm more like Betty Crocker now, open the box, add eggs and bake. Hopefully the eggs haven't been in the fridge for six months.

7. I have a few foreign habits. I lived in England for 18 months where I had to adapt to eating with my fork in my left hand and knife in my right hand. I lived in Australia for seven years where I learned that "damn" and "hell" aren't swear words - even in church (which is also the case in England). Having an Australian husband for 21 years seals the deal - you're going to hear those words at our house. But you won't hear the word "bloody" used as a swear word, because it is cursing the blood of Christ. Now that you know, you have to quit saying it.

8. I'm really insecure. Should I have told you that? I try not to re-read my stuff to much or it would never get posted. I hate having my photo taken. I worry that people think I'm fat, ugly, unintelligent, weird or not righteous enough because I say "damn" and "hell".

9. I can belch like a teenage boy. Goodbye dear readers. It was nice knowing you. Don't worry, I save that for my immediate family and my children's dates. Who needs a gun collection? Should I have told you that?

10. It has taken me two months to compile this list. Holly probably forgot she passed this on by now. No - I just can't think of ten things to say about myself. Hmmmm. I just made that belching thing up. I like singing and have fun singing karaoke with friends and Ali. It's awesome therapy.

I'm breaking the rules because it will take me another two months to pick 10 bloggers and contact them. So......CONSIDER YOURSELF AWARDED!

The Bull That Started It

2010-08-31T20:43:00.004-06:00

Cheeseboy, you may want to skip this one. Your wife, however, may enjoy this.

Saturday night Mimi said, "Mom, I saw a commercial on TV and there was this bull thing that you ride with a diaper thing on it. But it wasn't a diaper. What was that thing?"

I tried to play dumb. "What? Like a saddle?"

"No. It was white and it was shaped like it would go on your underwear. Like it would fit between your legs. Do you know what that is?"

"Oh. Yeah. That's something that you use when you are a teenager."

"Well, I saw some at Laurie's house."

"Her teenage sisters probably use them."

"Well, what are they?" she asked.

"It's not something I can't tell you about in just a couple of minutes. We'll have a talk about it tomorrow after church," I'm thinking she'll forget about it by then.

Here's the commercial that caused the premature maturation conversation:

As soon as church was over she threw herself on the couch next to me. "Remember we were going to have that talk?"

So, this is my baby girl, she is only ten years old. She still sleeps with a teddy bear and wants to sit on your lap. She doesn't like boys yet and still likes dolls. Maturation Class isn't until the end of 5th grade. We are not ready for this.

"Those white things are called pads. Usually girls use them when they're teenagers or almost teenagers. You know how ladies are the only ones to have babies?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, inside our bodies is this little nest kind of thing and then the baby comes out of this tube. The nest is about the size of your fist and it's right above your bone right here." I drew her a cartoon of a lady with a cartoon reproductive system. "There's eggs in these little egg sacks and every month they take turns sending an egg to the nest. Our body gets ready to have a baby and if we don't have a baby, then our body has to get rid of the egg. So this stuff comes out of the tube every month for about 3-5 days and it's called a period. It's kind of like bloody snot. That's what we use those pads for."

"Ew."

She was very attentive, it wasn't too medical, I didn't giggle once and I don't think I freaked her out. She was so cute and smiling as we talked and I drew pictures. Thank goodness she didn't ask how the baby got in there.

"So why was there one on that bull?" That's what I want to know.

Lessons From Drama

2010-08-25T21:12:00.003-06:00

So, I told you about my sucky letter that I got on Saturday. I was a bit emotional about that on the weekend but I'm good now. Just had to get it out of my system. I'm still a little bitter. I could spew out some sarcasm, I'm sure.

Saturday, as I sat at my desk and cried, my wonderful 17 year old daughter Ali walked in and asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn't even get an interview for the position at her school that I really wanted. I had told her about it before and she thought it would be cool if I got a job at her school. I told her they probably had someone in mind for the job already.

My precious daughter put her arms around me and said, "It's okay, Mom. In theater we learn that sometimes people are already picked out for parts. And even when you do your best and you try out for a part and you don't get it, it doesn't mean you weren't good enough. It just means the part was already given to someone else. There's nothing you could have done to change it. You're still a good actor and there will be other parts."

Really? Is she mine? How did I get a daughter so wonderful? My 19 year old son, Seth, came in and hugged me and said, "I love you, Mom." Mimi just came in and hugged me. My husband of course, said everything right and encouraged me. The dog reminded me that there was still ball to play and sometimes it gets stuck under the couch and you need someone to get it for you. There's a deep analogy there for you. My true friends have dived under the couch for me this week.

I'm feeling the pressure of improving my skills so I am not at the bottom of the totem pole but schooling is really taking a big bite out of my time. I love studying graphic design but it sure is hard having much energy for anything much after that. So I'm trying to decide if I need to cut to one day a week of school or what. That was another reason I was looking forward to having summers off, so I could fill in some more time with school. Well, I'll keep reading my fortune cookies and see what life has in store for me. Any advice?

When Politics Attack

2010-08-21T14:47:00.003-06:00

Today I got a rejection letter. It really sucks. I applied for a job that I thought I would be really good at. It would have been a secretarial position for a liaison between the community college (that I just so happen to attend as a student already) and our high school, that my daughter attends. It was open to school district employees only. I didn't even get an interview. I'm sure the job was handed on a platter to some one that they already had picked out, which is the way things work. I've been a volunteer and an employee with our school district long enough to know these things. By law they have to open the position for interviews. At least I didn't have to waste my vacation time interviewing for a position that wasn't really available.

I can remember my Mission President waving his pointing finger, and saying in his high pitched, aged voice, "Elders and Sisters, it's not what you know, it's who you know."

I don't know why I'm so upset about it knowing the way things work, except that I was dreaming about having summers off, planning my liposuction next summer, recuperating in Cabo San Lucas with virgin Pina Coladas.

I Got Trump Fever

2010-08-10T21:19:00.005-06:00

You know, even as a teenager I've never been one to get star struck. I think I was more star struck by the uber popular kids at school. I think I still get more star struck when the Bishop at my church says hello to me. Maybe that's just guilt. Once again, clearing the phlegm from my ever clogged throat.

So maybe that's why I don't get why girls go crazy over Justin Beiber. He sings like a girl. Like a girl singing about girls. I remember the first time I heard "She's Out of My Life" by Michael Jackson when I was in eighth grade and the song left me confused why a woman would be sad that another woman would be out of her life. That's before gay people were invented (in my world, anyway) and now it would make total sense. But it really bugged me back then. Kind of like trying to understand negative numbers and infinity and beyond now. Don't think about it, don't think about it. It kind of bugs me that he's from Canada and he speaks like he's been born and raised in the trailer parks of Mississippi. Canada - be offended! Tell him to speak properly and stop trying to talk like a Yankee hick subculture!

Then there is the hair that reminded me of someone who is much, much older.

So I decided to do a little makeover with my newly found Photoshop skills. Who would have known that The Donald was so incredibly handsome? I'm totally seeing it now. And I haven't even seen his credit cards! So, what do you think? Trump Fever? I think Justin should be fired. We should wait a couple of years until his voice cracks and then judge his singing. Too girly for now. I guess that's not a problem when you're twelve.

Side Effects

2010-08-10T13:04:00.005-06:00

This blog is supposed to be my humorous blog, right? Where my motto is "finding humor in everyday life." Notice a brief absence? No.....not the absence of my briefs.....eh hem. I don't know if I ever mentioned in my blog that I suffer with headaches. I try not to whine. This is almost a daily occurrence and it really sucks. So how can I find humor in the fact that my head feels like it is hanging on by a tendon at times? Where is the humor in the back of my head splitting open and an alien creature crawling out? Okay - that is funny stuff!

So, I've been trying to get a handle on these things that I have adapted to as everyday life and can fake my way through it pretty good. It's usually when I mention something about a meat hook that gives it away that I'm feeling pretty crappy. But I can still make a joke. Can someone just pick my head up and place it back on my shoulders?

I usually start the day out with Excedrin. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. If it doesn't, I wait until lunch time and I take half of a 10 mg. Lortab, which is 5mg. with less acetaminophen than taking a 5 mg. Lortab. I've been to chiropractors, physical therapists, I have a deep tissue massage once a week at the moment.

Lately, I've been seeing a neurologist. He's put me on this drug called Topamax. I was really excited to find out that one of the side effects was weight loss. Woo freakin' hoo! I didn't know he was talking about the weight of my head when everyone thinks I've lost it. Scatterbrainedness is one of the symptoms. I think it was worded something like concentration/attention and something about recall. No one has noticed any difference.

Taste change is another side effect. Which explains why my long term relationship with Diet Coke has ended. I just can't stand the taste of the artificial sweeteners. I meant to give that up anyway. It was a toxic relationship. But all of a sudden I can't stand the smell of my desk drawer at work, either.

Then there is the fatigue and feeling lethargic, tiredness, drowsiness, do not operate heavy machinery-ness, mood changes, depression, suicidal thoughts. So, I'm feeling really suicidal but I'm too tired to carry it out.

And one of the last side effects of Topamax is headaches. So, how am I supposed to know if I'm getting headaches from the Topamax?

Magic Mimi

2010-07-27T23:11:00.003-06:00

This story kind of reminds me the old cartoon, "Hey! Watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!" "RAWR!" What I'd really like to see is Obama pull all those promises out of his - but this isn't one of those kind of blogs.
I have a ten year old daughter who knows magic. Yep. She goes by the stage name of "Magic Mimi." If you were ever wondering, her real name is Amelia and her toddler version of her name was "Mimi", so it stuck.

Trick Number 1: When her grandpa was staying with us a few weeks ago she decided to show him some of her magic card tricks. She had her stack of cards (a very short, suspicious stack of cards) and fanned them out and told Grandpa to pick a card. He drew one from the deck and looked at it and put it face down.

"Make sure you memorize it," she said.

He looked at it again, "Okay."

"Concentrate real hard and don't forget your card," she says in all seriousness.

He cackles, looks at his card to humor her and says, "Okay. I think I have it memorized now."

"Now place it back in the deck."

Grandpa, who's played this card trick one too many times in his life does the old switcheroo. "Okay, close your eyes." She closes her eyes. He places his card in the deck. She then straightens the deck.

"Let me go get my magic wand." She then runs to the other room and returns with.........a glow stick! She taps the deck three times and starts rummaging through the cards carefully in one direction, then in the other direction. She straightens the deck again. She gets the magic wand again and taps the deck a little harder this time, three times, and does the same thing again. She's looking a little panicked now. She straightens the deck again and this time beats the deck with the wand three times and says, "I don't know what's wrong with this magic wand!" She looks through the deck again and she finally says, "Hey! Did you trick me?"

Trick Number 2: Mimi laid out 12 cards face down on the floor and told Grandpa to memorize his card. She mixed them all around and tapped each card with the "magic wand" once and then went back and tapped each card in rhythm three times. It was like watching a ritual. Then she went back to tapping each card once again when I finally said, "Okay, Mimi!" She stopped (got the message, the build up was too much.) Then she pulled a card up from the display and said, "Was this your card, Grandpa?"

He said, "I don't know, you never showed me the card in the first place."

In which we all burst out laughing and she said, "Oh, yeah, I forgot."

There's real potential there, I know. She knows how to capture an audience, admit when her wand is freakin' broken (happens all the time) and adds humor. We're bookin' her for parties now, so book early.

A Buffet for Anorexics

2010-07-21T22:03:00.004-06:00

When I was in high school, anorexia seemed to be the new awareness (besides herpes, Quaaludes and AIDS). In fact, people used to ask me if I had anorexia and I wish, oh how I wish someone would just ask me that for old time's sake. I do have an eating disorder but I think it might have to do with the love of cheesecake and all things chocolate.

I remember learning that anorexics (is that a politically correct term?) eating challenged people are excellent cooks and enjoy cooking for other people. I have a cookbook full of recipes from a church that a known eating challenged person contributed many recipes such as "World's Best Brownies" and many other succulent choices. I can guarantee she offered thee best recipes.

I liken this story to an experience I had a couple of months ago when I went to a blogger's conference. It was exciting to meet many other bloggers, some I only knew by commenting on each other's blogs. It was nice to meet some real live people and see if they were as funny in person (and some were even funnier) as they were in their blogs. The funny thing is, this was like a buffet for anorexics. There were a lot of great people with a lot of good things to offer, but no one wanted to really eat. They wanted everyone to eat what they brought. I visited a few sites of cards I picked up and left comments and do you think they even visited me back? Nope. They have Blogger's Anorexia offering you their Sugar Cookies or maybe the dreaded Casserole.

Do you like my first attempt at my new found skills at Photoshop? I only merged two pictures and covered up Lindsay Lohan's breast, though you would have mistaken it for a displaced elbow, but anyway. She has seen better days.

So my last post I kinda critiqued some blogs that were featured on a comment support group called SITS. Some of you thought I might be talking about you, so I thought I would clear some things up. If I read your blog - I WASN'T TALKING ABOUT YOU! I don't read out of obligation because I'm sorry to say I'm too darned busy for that. If I had my choice I would be independently wealthy and I would read blogs all day long and they would inspire me to write my own blogs and I would have a fulfilled life of laughter and warm fuzzies all day long. But I have to work and because I have to work I need to improve my skills which leads me to going to school part time which leads me to this insanity which I have cut down to blogging once a week about.

If you are a daily blogger, I apologize that I don't visit everyday, but if you have something extra terrifically wonderful that you would like me to read because you know I would thoroughly enjoy it, make sure you send me the link, so I don't miss it.

I haven't been very good at being organized, so I try to visit my commenters' blogs as soon as I get a minute. If anyone has any good tips on keeping organized - let me know. But I'm not about to indulge at a buffet if someone isn't going to enjoy it with me!

Support My Cause

2010-07-15T22:06:00.004-06:00

I belong to a "comment support group" called SITS. It introduces you to blogs of all sorts and I mean all sorts! Exclamation point! It stands for the "Secret Is in The Sauce." I have found some very OFFENSIVE blogs - the kind that drop the "F" bomb and use the Lord's name in vain. I have found some crafty blogs - which I'm so anti-craft. If it looks handmade, it's because my ten year old made it. Like this gorgeous craft.

It's amazing what you can do with a covered dog food can, paper towels, skewers, paper, glue sticks and crayons. I love this craft. But this is the only craft.

I have found some newlywed bloggers, nearly dead bloggers, newly divorced bloggers, and some very ....oh....'scuze me..... ho .... oh..... ho hum bloggers. Lots of mediocracy. I have also noticed a lot of "cause" bloggers. "This Blogger Has a Rare Disease" and you go to their blog and realize you have nothing in common with 27 bottles of prescriptions, shouting profanities when they're nervous and adult size diapers. Not that I don't feel bad about their disease, but I don't really want to read about that every week (or every day). Which brings me to my cause. I don't talk about it often because I don't want my condition to define me.

Very few people tolerate my condition. I am a blonde. I was born this way. My hair slowly started to darken as I aged, but I decided to be proud of my true color and stopped trying to hide my condition. People that know me, love me for who I am, and when I see someone dressed exactly like me in public and feel a slight embarrassment just to realize it is my own reflection in a window, it is okay. BTW, that really happened. I'm just so glad I didn't say anything out loud to the group of friends I was with. But I kept looking at her, she kept looking at me - yeah. We noticed we were both wearing the same thing.

So back to "Comment Support" groups, you know what I noticed? On their "Feature Day" they gain like 250 followers in one day! But being the procrastinator - well - busy person really - that I am, I visit a few days late and I notice that they are back to five comments. Why?

You know what, I'm gonna resign from SITS. I'm gonna start my own "comment support group" called PITS. "People I Try Stoppingbytoread-andleaveaclevercommentwheneverIgetaspareminute-betweenworkingfulltimeandschoolparttime-andrunningchildrentotheERforconcussionsafterfallingoffatireswing."

It does have a nice ring to it don't you think?

Adverbs and Butts

2010-07-06T19:56:00.005-06:00

Today I played "Mad Libs" with two ten year olds. First, I had to find out what an adverb was. I knew it had something to do with verbs, but whatever. And who remembers what a predicate is? Useless stuff we learn in elementary just to forget when we're old and we need to prove to our ten year old that we're smart. I do remember the important life-changing stuff like the life-cycle of a caterpillar.

Mimi and her BFF didn't have a problem with nouns. Especially with using "butt" or "butt cheeks" or "butt crack" and speaking of lines, I had to draw the line at "butt hole." Then there were "boogers" and "poo". I tried to set a good example of words that didn't come from the bathroom. Yeah, right. Our stories were hilarious and the less they made sense the funnier the girls thought they were.

We love games at my house. Seth will bring his friends home and beg me to play "Scattergories" with them. It becomes very competitive. Friendly debates erupt because I have had 20 more years or more of life experience to increase my vast vocabulary. Even with teenage boys, I have to draw the line and tell a few of them to keep it clean. (Boys are so vile sometimes.) There have been challenges for words that we have the Internet ready to Google and some have even lost money. There was Cordon's word that started with a "D" that was an animal. We challenged the two point word "dik dik". Sure enough, there is a dik dik.
For toiletries/cosmetics and with the letter "S" I wrote down "sanitary napkin" as my answer. I was challenged by five teen aged boys. "That doesn't make sense." "Sanitary is a description, it's not part of the word." I told them to call their mothers. We looked it up and sure enough - there was a photo of a sanitary sanitary napkin. They were still murmuring as I gave myself a point.

When Vacuums Attack

2010-06-29T21:19:00.006-06:00

There it is, looking innocent enough. But heed my warning.....it is an accident waiting to happen. Just like owning a pit bull, you'll never know if it will return to it's natural fighting instincts, jaws meant for locking down on the enemy. This is my Dyson Animal vacuum, aka the Dyson Pit Bull.
It's not like it was neglected. I took it out for a venture every once in awhile. Keeping it on it's leash - when it happened. It turned on me. As I was adjusting the bottom of it, the handle dropped down on my foot. You know the thing you wrap the cord around? Hit me right on the top of my instep. This is the freak attack we all fear and this is how it left me maimed and swearing. Actually, I didn't swear at all but I rolled around on the floor wailing for awhile.

Later that day, my true colors shone through. Shades of purple, pink and blue. That was one week ago. Today, it is blue, green and the purple now spreads halfway down my toes. I now have two insteps on my left foot. I went to the doctor three days after the accident and it was a little bit broken. Just the tip is kind of chipped. He gave me a pretty shoe but after four days I quit wearing it. It Velcros across the top and made it ache all day.

Vacuums are not our friends. They are dangerous species waiting to turn on you. No matter how pretty they look - beware. Because of this attack, I cannot even look at another vacuum without shaking and crying. I now have suck-a-phobia.

Surprise Rosebuds

2010-06-28T14:05:00.003-06:00

When I was in the bath the other day I was surprised to see.......rosebuds! Not those kind. If we were talking about those kind I would be mentioning the hanging baskets. A coworker gave us some nice homemade bath salts and I knew they had lavender buds in them, but not rosebuds.

Speaking of surprise rosebuds, Mimi once again reminded me that she needed a bra. She said, "Maybe you could take me and I could at least try some on. And then you could go back when I'm not with you and buy it, so they won't know it's for me."

I laugh, "Okay."

"So what size do you think I wear?" she asks.

"I don't know, maybe the same size as me," I say teasingly.

She looks at my chest, as if she hasn't seen it lately, and pulls her head back and says, "Nah uh."

So I guess I'll get one of those little halter thingies to help train her......rosebuds. Have you ever wondered why they call them training bras? What do you train them to do? Sit up pretty? Play dead? Dance? Mine only lay down.

When I Get Time

2010-06-23T21:52:00.003-06:00

When I get time, I'm going to tell you all about my wonderful husband, who just had a birthday. And I'm going to post a picture of him. But it has to be perfect, so I haven't had the chance to do it yet.

When I get time, I'm going to tell you that I broke my foot by a freak vacuuming accident. I'll post pictures about that, too. And when I get time I'll tell you I hired a cute gal to clean my house, because it's way to risky for me.

Speaking of risks, when I get time I'm going to share my opinion about people who take risks and expect others to risk their lives to rescue them. Stupid, stupid, irresponsible people.

And when I get time, I'm going to tell you how one of my biggest peeves in life is death - well, when people say, "He died doing what he loved the most." How do you know he didn't really like living and he's really peeved that he did something so stupid and now he's dead? If I choke on cheesecake, please do not resuscitate. I'm just giving you permission now to let me die doing what I love the most.

And when I get time, I'll tell you that my dad just moved in with us and we weren't expecting him for another week and that's why I was vacuuming when it attacked me.

And when I get time, I'll post a picture of my hubby in a Speedo when we were dating because that was the style in Australia. And when I get time I'll tell you I could barely look at him in his Speedo because.....no time to explain that.

And when I get time, I'll tell you it's our 21st Anniversary this Sunday and tell you how he has become the perfect man and I'm so glad we've made it over some hurdles.

And when I get time, I'm going to read your blog from the very beginning so I know why your blog is named what it is, or just because I like to laugh for that long. And now that I have a broken foot, I can't go walking and I need my abs exercised.

And when I get time I'm going to tell you my opinion about how I thought slavery was banned a long time ago, but some people hiring illegal aliens for pittance didn't get that memo.

And when I get time, I'll show off some Photoshop skills I've been learning in school. Because I need my pictures to look perfect.

And when I get time, I'm actually going to write on my other blog and share pictures that need to be Photoshopped because they have faded.

And when I get time, I'm going to leave you the funniest, most awesome comment on your blog. Wait! There's always time for that! Even if I don't post, I can still visit you. I'm just a good friend like that.

Growing Up

2010-06-15T17:41:00.011-06:00

My baby turned ten. I was really kind of sad about it on her birthday last Thursday. We spent the day together, shopping, getting her hair cut, getting party supplies, buying a "Build-a-Bear" knock-off. (It's the only thing close by.) Her two birthday parties stirred some other emotions, like homicidal tendencies.

We decided to have an "Alice in Wonderland" party and everyone was to wear a crazy hat. Nine crazy kids came to celebrate. Mimi went into show-off mode and it left me wondering how she had friends. Why do kids do that? They are like obnoxious drunks who can't do enough to try to get people to laugh.

Here's our "Tea Party." I actually found gummy mushrooms which I laid on the table for decorations. I searched high and low for these little bottles.

The kids watched "Alice in Wonderland" (the new one). They squeaked balloons until I almost went bizerk and ran in there like a mad woman, popping every balloon. I actually had a visual of this and imagined the looks on the kids' faces. I thought of the rumors; "Mimi's mom is just like the Mad Hatter." This is her cousin, Bryson. They are only a year apart.The day after her birthday, Mimi said, "We need to go to Wal-mart."

"What for?" I ask.

"I need a bra," she announces.

"No you don't," I said in a laugh.

"Yes, I do, too! You said as soon as my nipples start sticking out, that's when I need a bra!"

"I don't think you're nipples are sticking out," I said.

"Yes, even look!" she argued. Then she takes the neck of her T-shirt and stretches it over her chest to expose.....nothing. "See, it's starting to stick out." I'm telling you, it was smaller than a mosquito bite. Smaller than the zit on my forehead - which could definitely use a bra.

I could never imagine doing that in front of my mom. I think she just started buying me bras. I would have been embarrassed to attract any attention to that area of my body. Now, buying a bra is like buying shoes. The "Bra Fitting Specialist" goes in the dressing room to make sure it is adjusted right and the right size.

I went to a "specialty" store and after the lady came to check on me she turned and announced she would go get a bigger bra and announces my cup size loud enough for the entire little shop to hear. When I came out, ready for my purchase, my husband was sitting there with a smirk on his face. Then he says like a teenage boy in a locker room, "Bigger bra, huh?" He was so proud of my hard efforts of growing fat cells on my chest.

Desperate Parenting

2010-06-09T17:07:00.003-06:00

I share this story, which I find humorous now, but oh so far away from humorous ten years ago. Young moms can learn from this, ~~old~~ experienced moms may applaud me. But I survived a son with behavioral problems. I'm not talking normal boy things, I'm talking about me and the principal having a close working relationship. Did I ever tell you about the time in second grade when he peed all over the other boys in the boys' bathroom? I, unfortunately, got to know all of Seth's elementary teachers.

I was the president of our children's program at our church and was holding a meeting at my house. We were planning away when Seth, fourth grade, made a huge scene. I'm talking my face was probably bright red, I was trying very hard not to kill him in front of four other women, he was screaming with his foghorn of a mouth about life not being fair and he's going to run away. I believe I told him he couldn't go outside until he cleaned up the landfill we called his bedroom. He went upstairs and packed his backpack, slamming the door as he left. It was one of those slams where you're amazed every picture didn't fall off the walls. To say the least, I was beside myself in anger. BUT......I had to remain socially respectable. Lucky for him.

When the meeting ended, I had calmed down quite a bit and decided to really dig into Seth. I made a sign and put it on our mailbox in very large letters. It said, "BOYS ROOM FOR RENT. MUST DO CHORES." A couple of neighbors called to find out if we were really renting out a room. (There goes the neighborhood!)

A couple of hours later, Seth returned, sign gone, and he said, "Sorry, Mom" and gave me a hug. Here we are ten years later and he still lives at home, usually has a messy room, still fights about mowing the lawn, doing dishes, etc. The thing is, he really can move out and we remind him of that sometimes. We parents need leveraging no matter what age our kids are.

Cheesecake Happens

2010-06-04T22:58:00.005-06:00

Last night I had a dream that my son graduated and he was wearing a cap and gown. The thing was - he was graduating with a bunch of delinquents. I have no idea what meaning that dream has.

I got together with my BFF on Friday night while my husband went on a medieval camp with Mimi. No, I did not want to go and when Mimi called to tell me goodnight, she happened to mention there was no toilet and she would have to potty in the woods, that was an affirmation of my decision.

Karen and I ate at Rubio's where I had a sip of water that tasted like it was fresh from the toilet. Really. It was that bad. Try putting out a flaming mouth with that.

Thursday, I came home from work and our conversation went something like this:

Mimi: Why are you wearing a shirt under that shirt?

Me: 'Cause everyone would see my boobs if I didn't.

Mimi: You mean your crack?

Me: Yeah. It's actually called cleavage.

Mimi: Your crack is called cleavage?

Me: Yes.

Mimi: Your cleavage crack?

It reminds me of a time we were sitting in church, Mimi was about 2 1/2 years old. She was sitting on my lap facing me and it was dead quiet during our meeting. Next thing you know she pulls my scoop-necked T-shirt out and puts her head in and says loudly, "Mommy! You have a bum on your neck!" I handed her to Jared and didn't look up to see who saw that one.

I can't wait to explain what an anal cleft is, AKA gluteal cleft. Makes it sound so intelligently special. "Cover up your gluteal cleft." I guess that's what the thong was made for.

Thursday night I had school and Mimi wanted invitations to her birthday party to hand out the next day, which was the last day of school. So when I was telling my friend at work about her turning 10 on the 10th of June of 2010......I started crying. I didn't cry when my kids went to kindergarten, I thought they were so ready. But my baby turning 10? AND my other daughter is going to be a senior in high school this next school year. She's hoping to get a singing/theater scholarship and she said friends are talking about scholarships being better out of state. I told her she's not allowed to go out of state. I would have to move out of state with her and be her roommate.

You may notice I've put on a few pounds since my profile photo from last year. It happens fast and it sucks. I'll blame my birthday when everyone gave me cheesecake. So tonight after a girl's night with Karen, I ended it with reading all the blogs I'm following and had some cheesecake to drown my sorrows (two girls growing up).

Routines

2010-06-02T22:12:00.005-06:00

Sometimes we do things without thinking about them. Sometimes we do them all the time and don't realize it......until we embarrass ourselves doing them.

My 17 year old daughter had a boyfriend. She said she broke up with him because she wants to be single during their senior year next year. He's so cute I told her I would just adopt him instead. They are still really good friends, in fact he was at our house tonight.

Usually when I come home from anywhere I walk through the garage door and run to the bathroom usually chanting urgently, "I needa pee pee!" Tonight I walked in and my hubby was waiting with his arms open waiting for a hug and I hand him the grocery bags except he didn't catch them so they landed on the ground and I squeal, "I gotta potty!"

He said, "Can't you give me a hug first?"

I start running down the hall shouting, "I have a turtle!" Well, you can imagine what that means. C'mon, doesn't every family have a code word? I usually only share that kind of information with my family. Except when I came back out, there was Ali's friend that is a boy, but not her boyfriend, sitting there in my living room. I didn't know he was here even though his car was parked out in our driveway. Also I walked out of my bedroom (after releasing the turtle into the sea) in my pajamas singing at the top of my lungs, "Tonight's gonna be a good, good night..." (Black-eyed Peas) and I notice him sitting there. I quickly fold my arms and stop singing and hide in the kitchen. Maybe that's the real reason they broke up.

The sad part about this little routine of running to the loo every time I come home (like Pavlov and his dog) is my nine year old has taken note. I came home and found my toilet lid down with a note on the lid, "Dear Mommy, I went to Lauren's house to play. Love, Mimi." I found another one today. At least she knows I'll find them.

Bloggers Galore!

2010-06-01T22:14:00.009-06:00

Gobs of Blogs

There's blogs about family,

celebrities and friends,

Blogs can be short

and some never end.

Some can have causes

Some make you laugh

Some offer recipes

That leave you with gas.

Some are about babies,

vomit and poo

What I learned at CBC

is to just be YOU.

Wasn't that tender? Did you expect anything other than tender? Yes, I went to the Casual Bloggers Conference and it was GREAT! I just seem to be one of the ones who procrastinated blogging about it. If Fifi can blog after trying to immigrate to Mexico, I can blog after having my lovely headache that spanned the weekend. But this is not a whiney blog, so I won't whine. Except about this one thing at CBC:

Do you know what that is? No! It is not my MRI! It is a Tootsie Pop that I was totally ripped off with. You know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Too darn many when there is no Tootsie Roll in the center. If this was my MRI I'd have you know I have a lot of chocolate goodness inside my head.

Me and Lisa getting into the spirit of the night. See what happens when you have too much red food dye in Swedish Fish? Lisa is an awesome dancer!
I stole this picture from Serene. DeNae, Tauna, Serene and Crash. I have no idea what Crash's real name is. I'm sorry. But you can visit thier super fantabulous sites.
This is Alexes at One Cluttered Brain and Linda at See Mom Smile. They were so much fun. We had fun eating out almost every meal with Linda. So much fun - you should have been there! Start planning for next year. I'm glad to have met so many new friends!

2010-05-27T22:16:00.003-06:00

Once again, eh hem, let's start over. That sounds like it happens often. Glammy gave me an award! Yipee! Skipee! Woo Hoo! She's actually "Glamazon the Mormon Mom" who I stumbled across following another blog. But here's the thing, Glammy. I love you much better than the other person. But she doesn't know that, so don't go spreading rumors! Okay, you can. They'll all be jealous and mention me on their "What I meant to say..." or "Post its." I'll be black listed. She said she gave me this award because I have funny stories and on of her favorites was about Easter. I tried to find a favorite post of hers but I have resolved to not having a favorite one. I love everything she writes, funny or serious. I really love her Friday Confessionals and I nearly wet myself when I read them. I tried to play along once. I just can't be too consistent at this point in life. I just want to thank her again for not giving me "that other award" because I would have to be way too creative for it! But thanks Glammy, for thinking my blog brings you sunshine.

Now I'm passing it on to five others who bring sunshine in my life:

1. Kyann who is really funny. I love her observations in life.

2 Pearl because she is really funny, too! I try not to hate her because she has no booty.

3. Serene who is so much fun to read and once again - she is another funny lady! Are you seeing a pattern here? These are the women who inspire me!

4. Fiona who is my sister-in-law in Oz (Tasmania to be exact - and yes they speak English there) and hers is more of a family blog, but it still brings sunshine in my life.

5. FiFi who has been on vacation for the last month, but I think it's time for her to come back. One of my fave stories of hers is "Mother: Another Word for" and I think I like the "Avoiding an Affair Part 1 & Part 2." She touches on mid-life crisis. Maybe this award will inspire her to come back from vacation! Go and show her some bloggy love!

My Seinfeld Bathroom Experience

2010-05-22T12:39:00.004-06:00

This story is not for the faint of heart. If bathroom humor offends you stop right here.

There's certain things that you just shouldn't have to frantically search for. Like car keys when you're in a hurry. Children in the mall. Immodium. Toilet paper in a public bathroom.

My friend and I went to a new shopping mall a few weeks after it opened. Nature called and we visited the shiny new public potty. As I search for a seat I always make sure there is toilet paper which in real life I call "loo roll." I looked in the nearest stall, nope. No loo roll. The stall next to it had plenty so I went in. I heard two obnoxious ladies walk in and they were talking very loudly. I heard the door next to me close.

Now I referred to these ladies as being obnoxious because they were talking very loudly, as if no one else was around. I think there should be some unspoken law that you don't talk to people when you're on the toilet. Not that it takes a lot of concentration to relieve oneself, but doesn't it seem a little weird? Maybe it's just me. "How's it going, Tinklebell?" "It'll work itself out in the end." Weird stuff.

I knew the lady who occupied the loo next to me didn't have any toilet paper. She hasn't come to that realization yet because of her conversation. Then it happened. First, a gurgle and then a squirt. Then noises you wouldn't want others to hear. But it didn't bother her, "Yeah, and wasn't that shirt so cute? I couldn't pay that much for it." Then some whistles, toots and honks. She carried on her conversation as if nothing was happening, except a flight of geese flying overhead. "So what did she say when you told her?" Her bowels were exploding. There was splashing and pouring between the flatulence. She was what I deemed as "losing her guts." I was sitting in my stall with tears running down my face because I knew she had no loo roll. I was shaking violently with silent laughter. I couldn't come out because I know I would be laughing uncontrollably.

Then she said as loudly as she had the rest of her conversation, "Oh no." That was it. I was in fits.

"What's wrong?" her friend asks.

"There's no toilet paper in here. Would you mind handing me a few paper towels?" This reminded me of Seinfeld's "Can you spare a square?" I could hear the paper towel dispenser in use. "Which stall are you in?" She asks.

"Right here. I'll stick my foot out," she answers.

You could hear the exchange of the paper towels. "Thanks." Then you could hear the rustling of the paper towels and flushing of the toilet. Meanwhile, she is still having conversation like nothing is happening. "Could you hand me one or two more paper towels?"

"How many do you want?"

Ppppppptttttttt! (That's the sound of guts being expelled.) "Make that two."

How I did not burst out laughing at this point I don't know. I'm really bad especially when I know I'm not supposed to laugh. As soon as they left the bathroom I came out and fell into laughter as I recited the event to my friend. This friend, however, doesn't really appreciate bathroom humor though she did say, "Oh my gosh!" and laughed a little. Of course my husband found it hysterical and often asks me to share "that bathroom story" with friends who love a good public bathroom story.

Once in a public lavatory I heard a little girl in her stall saying, "One poopy plop." Pause. "Two poopy plops...." and so on. And I'm sure we've all had our toddlers embarrass us by asking us if we were doing a number one or two in the bathroom. Or they announce that it stinks. Let me know if you post any funny public potty stories.

Enquiring Minds Want to Know

2010-05-20T16:32:00.004-06:00

I had some questions asked of me from "Anonymous." Since anonymous could be a number of people, I'm not sure who I am answering. Male, Female? Mean, Nice? I think if I was going to ask myself questions I would have asked something like, "What is your secret to good humor?" or something along those lines.

I was asked what Jared (my hubby) did for me for Mother's Day and why didn't I post anything about that. Well, my darling husband got me some flowers and a box of chocolates. Not just any box of chocolates.....Lindt Lindor. And once again I accused him of trying to make me fat(ter) and he always says, "I don't care if you get fat. I love you." I know. Isn't he a jewel? He really is good to me. He then slept for most of the afternoon and cooked frozen fish for dinner (which I didn't think was very blog worthy, in fact I was a little annoyed he slept all afternoon) and then we went to see my mom who lives about six miles away. We came home and he called his mum in Australia on Skype. I elaborated my children's activities because they didn't do anything for my birthday and I made a big deal about it in one of my posts, so I thought I would update whether Santa was coming this year. I feel I do so much for them, so the least they could do is make me feel special!

I probably didn't blog about that because I try to keep my blog posts somewhat short. I know people are really busy - including me. I work full-time as a secretary for our school district for wonderful people who have moved out of the high school special ed. programs and want to work.

I then go to school three nights a week studying graphic design. You know how some kids know what they want to be when they grow up and they work towards that goal and know exactly what they were put on earth for? That wasn't me. I never knew what I wanted to be except a wife and a mother. My natural talent would be in visual art, but my insecurities have never made me a competitive person and I took my talent for granted "because there are a lot of other people out there who are better than me." I know, that sounds really dumb. Just understand to be artistic you have to have a little bit of a dark or weird side. We all think differently and that's what makes the world a great place. I went into graphic design because of my love for creative things but unfortunately my creative juices are nothing but a fine dust at the moment. Which brings me to the third question.

I have another blog called "Spiritually Speaking." I share my conversion story and other things spiritual but it has been sorely neglected. A friend asked me why I separate the two and my answer is: I don't want to target my readers to just LDS people. I have a lot of friends who don't share my faith and I don't want them to feel as if they can't read my blog because they can't relate. I'm not the kind that can just sit down and start writing and it turns out wonderful. I think very deeply about what I share on that blog and I know I'm in the middle of telling about my friend's conversion. I then have my mission to London to share and lots of wonderful experiences since then. Why don't I just do it? Well, I'm taking Photoshop in school right now and a lot of my pictures need a little "lighting" and touch ups. They have faded with time, just like my other blog.

And the fourth and final question - yes, Anonymous, you are appreciated. I know some bloggers write comments to their commentor comments. I rarely go back to a blog to check to see if the blogger has commented to my comment and I assumed other people were like that too. Though some comment on comments on a regular basis. I sometimes go to my commentor's blogs and answer their comment there. I'm usually a very good commentor. If you don't have a blog, sign it "Anonymous in the blue hat" or something and I will know you from the other anonymous people.

Nothing funny today, friends. I'll work on it though.

Dog Food Reviews

2010-05-18T22:08:00.003-06:00

It's been a whole week since I last posted. Since it's "Oh My Heck Wednesday" I thought I would share a funny little story with you.

Mimi was opening a can of dog food, you know, the kind that you pull the ring on the top. As the lid snapped off the can a chunk went flying into the air and landed right in her mouth. She shouted, "Ew! A chunk got in my mouth!" Then she smacked her lips a couple of times and said, "Mmm. Not bad."

My experience with dog food was when I was just her age - fourth grade. We lived in North Carolina and we had a golden mutt that we named Thai. As in Thailand - that's where my dad was at the time on TDY for the Air Force. I borrowed a book about dog species from the school library and my five year old brother and I looked through the book, studying all the species and trying to find out just what kind of dog Thai was.

Page by page, getting distracted by all the species, the big ones, the tiny ones, the fluffy ones and then we found it. We were convinced that Thai was a genuine Dingo from Australia. We told all of our friends that Thai was a Dingo. This was about 1975 when most Americans didn't even know what language they spoke in Australia, and a few years before the movie Grease and way before Crocodile Dundee.

I remember pouring Thai some dried dog nuggets and I wondered what they tasted like, so I threw a nugget in my mouth and started crunching away. I then spat it out almost as quickly as it went in. Why did Thai get so excited to eat petrified poop? I don't think I had ever tasted poop before to my knowledge, but it tasted exactly like the smell of poop. I lost a little respect in my dog that day, but it faded quickly. I never touched his food again. Or any other dog's food, for that matter. When it comes to good food, how can you trust a species that identifies others by the smell of their butt holes?

Peeping/Pooping Toms

2010-05-12T21:00:00.000-06:00

I work for a company that employs people with disabilities. We have a production area that some disabled adults work in. We refer to them as clients and even kids, because they are just like kids. Work is like a box of chocolates....you never know what you're gonna get. Sometimes I answer multiple phone calls from the same person in one day. Sometimes people call me for directions and they have to call multiple times from their cell phone as they are on their way. "I see that store, now where do I go?" Some of them we are scared of because they have a driver's license.

I needed to use the ladies room one day last week. I was the only one in the three stall loo and had just sat down when I heard the bathroom door open and close. Next thing I know there were two sneakers under my door. One of the clients had made their way to our side of the building and was peeking through my bathroom door. She turned and left as soon as she saw whatever it was she was looking for, or not. I thought of all the funny things I could have done, like yell at her to "get the hell out of here" or maybe moon her. Unprofessional that would have been. But funny. I told the supervisor in the back and she said she always does that. So I guess I'm not special.

My friend/coworker shared her experience with a client. The client was yelling that she needed a plastic bag as she was holding a wet paper bag. She was making quite a scene and yelling, "I need a plastic bag for my hairspray!" Kate told her she didn't have a plastic bag and maybe ask another worker. This settled her and she said she would ask someone else and would Kate hold her bag for her while she asked. Kate held the wet paper bag, which she discovered had an odor. A very yucky odor. It didn't smell like hairspray. When the client came back Kate asked, "What is in this bag? It stinks!" Client says, "Oh. That's my dirty underwear." Ew.

Then this very same week we had a client who has Down's Syndrome come to the window. This client always wears a baseball cap and never smiles. He said in his very slow, quiet voice, "I'm sorry to bother you."

"What do you need, Ross?" we asked him.

"I'm sorry to bother you." Big sigh. "Well," sigh, "I went to the bafroom," sigh, "A while ago," sigh, and then holds his hands level to his shoulders, "and it was this big." Sigh. "And my stomach hurts." Sigh. "I don't feel good." I'm thinking his intestines probably needed time to adjust to their new position in his gut. We didn't laugh while he was there. You're probably wondering what I said to that. It was something like this: "You'll probably start feeling better since you went to the bathroom." One of the other secretaries said, "Krista, if you don't want to help another person at that window today, we'll understand."

Five Things

2010-05-11T15:52:00.007-06:00

Diane at Contentedly Neurotic tagged me with this meme. I love the name of Diane's blog. I was thinking of naming my blog something similar, like "Delightfully Disturbed," "Satisfiably Psychotic" or "Medicated Zombie." What do you think? I just googled a thesaurus and another word for "content" is "fat dumb and happy." I kid you not! I figured I may have to change the name of my blog in a few years, anyway, to "Shades of Gray" or maybe "Postcards from the Asylum." Meme's are great when you lack material to blog about, not in the mood, or too busy to think - which is me (too busy to think). Here we go:

1. Where were you five years ago?

We were in the process of selling our house and building the house we are in now. We lived in a two bedroom apartment because they didn't have any three bedroom apartments left in the complex. I just realized we must have spent Christmas there and I can't remember it at all. It must've been traumatic. We put the two girls in the bedroom and had Seth sleeping in the room that was supposed to be the dining room. In the kitchen you couldn't swing a dead cat or you'd hit all three walls. There were boxes everywhere and wall to wall stuff that didn't fit in our storage unit. Traumatic.

2. Where would you like to be in five years? Right here in my same neighborhood. Moving was a big job and I hope to never do it again. Not until I'm wearing a night gown all day and can't remember my name. Financially stable would be a good place to be.

3. What is on your to do list? This is my night off, so there's not much I want to do. So I'll take this as on my bucket list: Go to Africa and South America so I can say I've been to six of the seven continents. We're thinking an Amazon cruise would be fun. Is there much shopping in Africa? Maybe Morocco or Egypt, that's still Africa. In case you're wondering about the seventh continent - I have no desire to go to Antarctica - maybe when global warming settles a little more.

4. What are five snacks that you enjoy? Chocolate. Chocolate chip cookies. Nuts. Smoked Mussels. Cheesecake.

5. What are five things you would do if you were a billionaire? You know, that's a lot of money. I'd even settle for one million. 1. Buy my dream house in my same neighborhood, completely finished and furnished to my "groovy" style. Landscape finished. Nothing for hubby to do except fan me. 2. Buy houses for my dad, brother, sister, mom, Jared's parents and put money aside for the kids to buy houses. 3. So we're still talking a billion, right. Buy a condo in Australia so we have a place of our own to stay at and visit whenever we want without putting anyone out. 4. Hire a housekeeper, like Alice on the Brady Bunch. One that speaks English would be great. And if she knows how to cook low fat meals, do deep tissue massage and is a personal trainer that would be a surety in getting the job. 5. Open an affordable older folks home for older folks who want to continue living and having fun while they do it. My mom would tell me there needs to be a "no complaining zone." Her words would be a little different than mine (mine would just be under my breath). Wait - there's more! I still have leftover money! Lots of it! Bwahahaha! I'd be a student forever! I'd go to Disneyland! I'd travel the world! I'd get liposuction! I'd have a royal butt wiper! I'd buy a cabin in the woods! A boob reduction.....trust funds.....peace on earth good will to men!

Ooops! I forgot to tag five people:

Lisa at Blue and Shoe because I just love that girl!

Pearl at I Has No Booty because she has already spent a million dollars in her last post. Now she has more to spend!

Linda at See Mom Smile cause she always makes me smile (and laugh hard!)

Serene at Serene Is My Name, Not My Life because she is so darn cute!

Kyann at Sanity Is Overrated because she is so right about sanity.

All of these women are humorous and I am an avid follower of all of them. And with my billion dollars we're all going on a Disney cruise! Dreaming again....going to bed now!

Mother's Day

2010-05-09T23:36:00.003-06:00

I know some of you are wondering what happened at my house for Mother's Day. Did my kids acknowledge me? Will there be Christmas this year? You remembered what happened at my birthday!

Mimi was the first awake. She was cranky as she always is in the morning. She handed me a Toblerone candy bar and says begrudgingly, "This is what Dad bought for me to give you, 'cause he wouldn't take me shopping to get you a present." Then she handed me two cards and still in her grumpy tone she said, "I made this one in Primary and I made this one in school. Dad wouldn't take me shopping."

Then Ali came up and handed me a store bag from the store she works at and inside were some earrings and a necklace. She hugged me and told me Happy Mother's Day. She got me some ice in a bag because my eye was all swollen and I had a big bag under it.

Seth gave me a metal rose that was handcrafted. He also wrote me a beautiful letter. He said in one part, "I've been thinking about all the favorite memories I have with you but I've literally been thinking for half an hour because there are so many....just a few of them though are - when I was a kid you taught me songs like "Gallump said the little green frog" and "How much is that doggie in the window." When I remember them it's your voice that sings them still." Is that so sweet? I use to sing a lot with the kids.

So, I guess Santa will come this year. I was going to give Jared the budget and let him do everything if the kids forgot me. I hope all of you had a great Mother's Day.

The Real Evolution

2010-05-04T21:30:00.005-06:00

Once again, an e-mail inspired this post. Some of those things inspire one to think a little deeper. The lady in the top left, "Don't take the picture yet, I can't quit giggling." Lady under her....Aunt Bee?

Directly under the sign as she says to the woman to the left, "George, why are you wearing my clothes again? Just wait til we get home!"

Front center in a squeaky voice, "Does anyone know a good chiropractor?" To the right, "When can I stop fasting?"

Woman at the top right, "I think I just invented the thong."

I did a little research on this photo. It was wondered if these ladies were posing and making fun of the prohibition, that they were purposely making themselves ugly, that a woman on the right was "giving herself a double chin." I ask, how do you give yourself a double chin? I mean, don't you have one or not? I guess if you have one you can create illusions with it by sticking your head out and making it disappear and pulling it back to make it appear again. I'll be back in a sec, I've got to check something out in the mirror. As if.

When I received this e-mail it said, "Mormon Women 1919." Which is arguably before the prohibition. Then I wondered if they might all be married to the same man, who was driven to drink. Nope - polygamy ended long before then. It reminded me of what Mark Twain said about polygamists:

"With the gushing self-sufficiency of youth I was feverish to plunge in headlong and achieve a great reform here - until I saw the Mormon women. Then I was touched. My heart was wiser than my head. It warmed toward these poor, ungainly and pathetically "homely" creatures, and as I turned to hide the generous moisture in my eyes, I said, "No - the man that marries one of them has done an act of Christian charity which entitles him to the kindly applause of mankind, not their harsh censure - and the man that marries sixty of them has done a deed of open-handed generosity so sublime that the nations should stand uncovered in his presence and worship in silence."

Mormon women have evolved. I say we get a bunch of us together and recreate that photo. The bars would be empty. Breweries would be going out of business and wanting bail outs. No more half-time commercials. We'd have to open kissing booths just to accommodate everyone. It would be equivalent to Alcoholics Anonymous but drier. The gutters would be empty. Mark Twain would be eating his words.

All For You

2010-05-03T23:09:00.002-06:00

This weekend was really hectic - no time to write a word
So I thought I would share this darling little bird.
Gertrude McFuzz finds her neighbor
All cause her courage didn't waiver.

"All For You" sung by my Ali, who is a junior in high school.

Who?

2010-04-30T21:52:00.005-06:00

Just like Horton hears the Who's I can hear all my friends in Blogville talking to me. Actually, I'm usually the one talking to you. "Hello! Can you hear me?"

I finally saw my daughter's high school musical tonight, "Suessical the Musical." I had school the last two nights so I missed those. I'll be going again tomorrow night, too. I survived the day with another headache (literally) in which I had an MRI on my neck for. I was really expecting them to say I was a host body for an alien that is trying to crawl out of the back of my head but they didn't say that. They said I have a couple of bulging discs in the bottom of my neck. So I'm like, "Great. More bulges." No more pictures of the back of my head now. At least I still have cute ankles.

So back to Ali and Suessical. This is her with a girl she grew up with that lived in our old neighborhood. "Aubs" was a fancy bird and Ali was Gertrude McFuzz. So cute to see them 13 years down the road.

Here's Ali with the Horton/Gertrude offspring. If only having children were as easy as sitting on an egg. My Mimi was jealous and thought she should have played the hatchling. Another star is rising!

Here is Ali with her bestie, Joey giving Horton a little kiss. Joey was a Who and was a darn darlin' Who! I don't know who Horton really is. I wouldn't recognize him on the street without his trunk.

Another week survived. Another brag moment. The bird gets the elephant in the end. Thanks for listening to me brag twice in a week. Oh, not to be overlooked - my little Mimi had a piano recital. And she did awesome. All in a day's work.

Spring Preparation

2010-04-28T07:00:00.000-06:00

Spring is supposed to be here. It's time for us to be working on our bikini bodies for Summer, right? I'm encouraged for two reasons: 1/ Spring may never arrive here in my state. 2/ There will always be someone that looks worse than me by the pool. Of course there will always be those that look better. Whatever. I say Spring may never come because it snowed last week and then warmed up again by the end of the day. Some of the damage it left behind:They say women have an extra layer of body fat to keep them warm. These ladies were so warm they had to take some of their extra clothes off.

I'm suddenly not feeling so bad about being caught half naked at the pool. Though I cover up a little more than those girls and others are grateful. Are we ever satisfied? Too hot, too cold. Too young, too old. Too poor, too rich. Nah. Is it possible to be too rich? I'd like to find out.

Right now my hair is too short. When I went to the hairdresser two weeks ago, my hair was NOT too long. She asked, "How much should we take off, and inch? Half an inch?" I said, "Let's keep the length and just thin it out." I thought maybe I'd try once again to grow it a little longer.

Well, she colored it back to my natural color (blonde, of course) and then came the haircut. The deal is I've been going to this hairdresser for the 14 years I've lived in the states, after living in Australia for seven years. She cut my hair before I moved to Australia, so I've known her over 20 years. Therefore, we are comfortable talking about a lot of things. I'm no longer comfortable.

The subject was her husband. He was in big trouble. The more she talked about him the shorter my hair became. Next thing you know it was lesbian short. It looks awful. My hair has never been this short before. I feel like I need to explain to people that I am straight. I didn't say anything after she was done, because after I wash it and do it myself it usually looks better. It didn't. The next day I looked in the mirror and I thought swear words. Mainly the question, "What the hell?" I just wanted to cry. But it's just dead protein growing out of my head and it grows back, right? Two weeks later and I still have a man's hairdo. Almost a comb over.

My friends at work said, "Oh, you're back to blonde." When they saw my awful hair. They didn't say, "Cute haircut," or anything. Just that I was back to blonde. My brother said yesterday he hated my hair and wanted to disown me. My husband said, "I do not like your hair that short." My kids were shocked. WTH? What's the use of having a nice face if your hair sucks?

The problem is, I've been going to her for a long time. I haven't been very happy with my hair for the last several cuts and colors. I don't know if she's losing her touch or if she's in too big of a hurry because she usually has a couple of clients processing at a time. Once she over processed my hair and it came out looking ash gray instead of ash blonde. I sent her a note on Facebook and let her know I didn't know what to do with my hair being this short. She said, "Come in and get some wax." I said, "I already have products." What to do, what to do. Friendship......or nice hair?

Brag Moment - Please Tolerate

2010-04-25T14:01:00.008-06:00

Okay, okay. I realize other people "just aren't into my kids" as much as I am. You could care less about the fact that my beautiful daughter went to prom with her boyfriend and her bestie and her bestie's boyfriend last night.

From left to right, Caden, Ali, Alex and Jocelyn (aka Joey). And they wore my favorite two colors. Not pink and black - pink and pinker, of course!

They all looked super smashing!

Here are the two beauties posing without their dates. It's kind of a shame no matter what boys do, they just don't look as stunning as girls. They try - and they do clean up well. But there's just something about a girl in a princessy dress.

Here is my darling daughter with her cute boyfriend. I thought I would only torture you with only three pictures...... though I have many, many more. I haven't looked at the disk full that Joey's dad sent over, yet. One might just happen to slip in in another post. Thanks for tolerating my brag moment. I just love that girl! She has amazing friends, too.

Psychic Stuff

2010-04-23T21:30:00.002-06:00

I came across this in an e-mail today. I thought it was pretty funny.

We (the secretaries) went out to lunch today with our two bosses. One boss is a serious kind of guy......retiring in the near future. Everyone walks on eggshells until they know what kind of day he is having. I'm lucky because I come in last and miss any action, so I've never seen it. He's always very nice to me.

As we were waiting for our table, Boss was standing next to me when the subject turned to horoscopes and astrology. That reminded me of this story, which I shared with the other eight co-workers:

My friend and I were in the mall one day and there was a psychic there reading palms. She tried to coax us over and we said, "No. We don't really believe in that stuff."

She said, "Well, I can tell you are both Aquarius." That was a little freaky so we went over to talk to her. She asked if she could read my palm and I told her I didn't believe in that stuff and she said, "I won't even charge you. I just think you would have an interesting palm."

So I let her humor herself and look at my palm. She said, "You had a life before this life. You were a dog." I just kind of laughed.

"You were a family pet who was well loved and you were tragically ran over by a stagecoach and that is how you died."

"Okay. Well thanks," I said and as we were ready to walk off she said, "To prove it you have a bump on your left shoulder." We laughed and walked off. Later out of curiosity, I felt my shoulder and sure enough there is a lump.

My co-workers listened intently. I felt my shoulder and said, "I seriously have a lump on my shoulder. Feel right here, Boss." As he reached over I snapped at his hand and let out a vicious bark. He retracted his hand quickly and we all laughed hysterically.

This is a great joke to play on your kids, too. I can see it in your future to tell that story because I know you have a great sense-of-humor! Let me know how it goes!

Inside the Mind of a Computer Geek

2010-04-21T22:19:00.003-06:00

I have about a 25 minute drive home from school three nights a week. Class ends at 9:00. You'd THINK I could think of some good bloggin' stuff. Here's what I'm really thinking about:

1. The person sitting behind me needs to blow his nose. It is whistling. His breathing sounds like he's fallen asleep with a deep breath in......pause......deep breath out. It whistles every night of class. I'd like to stick a flash drive up his nose.

2. There's not very many females in that class. One with piercings on her face and a lady who looks like a retired hippy. She has a long gray braid going down her back and wears strange clothes. I think she may be wearing a tent from Woodstock. That makes me the hottest! Hottest....burning binary code on disks.....

3. Multimedia, authoring tools, RAM, ROM, videos, kHz, interface........

4. I wish I could have a cookie dough milkshake this late at night and not gain weight.

5. Ethernet, LAN, WAN.....

6. I wonder what my blog friends are up to?

7. SCSI is pronounced "scuzzy." What's it mean again?

8. Trying to think of something for my blog.....funny.....

9. Bitmap, vector.......

10. What kind of memory doesn't lose info if the power goes out? Do I have RAM in my head?

I now know what a computer geek thinks. I've crossed over to another dimension. My next class will be Photoshop so I hope I have more creative thoughts then. "Creativity is your greatest asset in multimedia." I can't turn it off.

Some Random Pink Stuff

2010-04-17T23:08:00.004-06:00

Just another day in paradise.......you know, I wake up, eat my Shredded Wheat and Bran cereal with chocolate soymilk, have a headache, take Excedrin and a handful of vitamins, clean house in my pjs, and some one knocks on my door at the early hour of noon. I'm still in my pjs, braless and feel the need to fold my arms. The choice is to either tuck them under my arms or hold them up with my arms. I should have practiced in the mirror to see which looks better. It's probably dangerous to do housework without a bra on anyway. But I didn't want to get that all sweaty and stuff anyway since they cost like $50.

Mimi announces, "It's Katie!"

I said, "Tell her to come in. COME IN, KATIE!" She says, "I CAN'T." So I come to the door, half tucked in, half tucked out (can't hide 'em) and she points behind her. Down my three stairs is a BABY CARRIAGE with her new adopted baby girl! So I had to go outside and show the neighbors, that yes, I am a pink maniac with a beer gut that is actually boobs without support, but who cares? It was a cute little precious bundle of perfect girlishness! She was asleep and looking so sweet. Now I have an excuse to go out and buy a cute pink outfit which will happen next Saturday because this one was shot.

I sang happy songs as I cleaned my toilet (or maybe I swore to familiar tunes) and had a meeting at the high school with the "Productions Director" to counsel her on colors. Did I mention my Ali is playing Gertrude McFuzz in "Suessical the Musical"? So it looks like my Tuesday night will be spent painting or detailing or something.

Then I took Ali to try on prom dresses at my friend's house and she is going to wear a very princessy pink dress. Daughter's just shouldn't look that cute at 17, they should wait until they are closer to breeding age, like 25. Especially, when she has a friend that she's been dating for the last eight months and has only graduated to boyfriend status two weeks ago. And you know how long it takes boys to mature. He's a sweet boy, but can he really last that long? Maybe I'll go to prom with them. That will be the true test. He has passed other tests, like he actually sang karaoke with me. And when I blamed him for leaving Mimi's Littlest Pet Shop toys all over the living room he said he wasn't finished playing with them. So he's quick, too. Maybe I could adopt him and make it really awkward.

To end my day I read all my favorite blogs and left brilliant comments on each of them. This is my world and I think they were brilliant. If I didn't leave a brilliant comment on yours, then let me know and I will rectify that.

Which brings me to my next topic (don't fall asleep yet) is HOW THE HECK do some people have so many followers? I read one un-named blog (not on my sidebar) with a gazillion followers and it was all about how wonderful they were and calling the readers names, which won't be repeated. I don't get it. "'Cause I'm so great and all you %$#(# love my butt!" Basically. I kinda get sick of that and un-follow their cocky butts. 'Cause I consider myself a friend and not a fan of some puffed up ego. Maybe none of you have ever visited blogs like that before. One power outage and POOF! Your fans are gone but your friends are here to stay. So I hope you didn't mind me bragging about my droopy boobs earlier.

All in a Week

2010-04-14T07:00:00.000-06:00

How do you go from this:

To this

in the same week? I actually had nightmares about wasps the same night I took this photo. So really, how do you go from snow to Spring and back to snow? I hope it killed all those horrible wasps.

I have a nightmare story about a hornet. When I lived in Australia it was a well-known fact that I was petrified of bugs. PETRIFIED - I say. I still am, but our bugs here seem relatively small in comparison. Entomophobia is the fear of bugs. If you say it real fast it kind of sounds like "enema-phobia." I'm afraid of those, too.

I must explain that those Aussies are tough people. I don't think I met one wimp in the seven years I lived there. They thought I was a bit of a freak to be afraid of bugs. They don't need modern conveniences like dryers, furnaces and air-conditioners in Queensland. They open their windows to let the fresh air in and who needs screens? What's a little preying mantis, Christmas beetle or wasp? Just get the fly swatter out and smash 'em, right?

One sunny day, I noticed a humongous wasp flew in my living room window. It flew right into my shadow box and flew back out. A minute later it flew back in, went to the same section in the shadow box and flew back out. PETRIFIED I was. It did this a few more times and I realized it may be making it's home in my shadow box. I slammed down the window and every window in my house in the blazing hot summer. It flew to the window, trying to get in and then to my kitchen window. It was after me. So when I called my husband at work and told him he had to come home to kill "a stinging thing that was after me," he thought I was over-exaggerating.

"I have to leave this house! It's after me! It's going to get me!"

In his Aussie accent he said, "Just wait 'til I get home tonight, I'll get it then," trying to be sympathetic.

"I can't stay inside with the windows down with the kids!" I scooped them up and put them in the car. I saw the hornet still flying around the window. I drove to my in-laws. I told them about "the stinging thing that was after me." They, too, thought I was exaggerating. I never exaggerate, so I don't get it. They laughed at me and assured me it wasn't actually after me. I called Jared from there and told him I wasn't coming home. I know he was laughing inside and probably annoyed by my phobia. He got used to me screaming every time I opened a kitchen cupboard when I found TWO INCH COCKROACHES lying on their backs with their legs still moving, moving ever so slowly, dying from the pesticide. Shudder.

He called his parents house to talk to me. "You won't believe this!" he said excitedly. "As soon as I came home and opened the window it flew in and it came after me! But don't worry, I've killed it, you can come home now." And that is why he is like my own personal Steve Irwin. "Aw, it's just a little fella with a stinger on it's rear. It won't harm you unless you provoke it to defend itself." I never exaggerate when it comes to bugs. And this one was after me.

What a Wonderful World

2010-04-11T21:25:00.005-06:00

Some of you have asked how do I do it all? Well, I am blessed with wonderful people in my life and I try to be a wonderful person back. Try being the key word. I've been working full-time for about a year and a half. I am surrounded by wonderful people there.

Before that I worked other little jobs and met many wonderful people and learned great things - even from the adorable kids I substituted for, or taught art to. And before that I was a full-time mom to three wonderful kids. And before that I was a wife to a wonderful man, who has become even more wonderful over the years.

Errrrrt! Now I'm a part-time mom, part-time wife, working full-time, going to school part-time and then there's that necessary fun on the weekend which makes me a part-time friend. People have said, "You might have to give up blogging." You know who said those kind of nasties? People who don't read my blog - or any blogs. They don't get it. They don't get the artistic outlet of blogging and how much your blog friends mean. Even though some of us haven't even met, I feel like you're my friend and I love reading about your families and funny thoughts, too. I may have to blog a little less, but heck! Blogging has led me to my new career path in graphic design.

So you may be wondering how I'm doing in my classes. I clept out of a basic computer knowledge class. I finished my next ten hour "module" in 7.5 hours and got a 92% on my test. I'm almost done with my second "module" of 30 hours in about 15 hours and will take that test this week. I wish I could learn faster because I want to do the fun stuff, like design and draw. I was really worried that I would have a hard time retaining information because I seriously can't remember what I had for dinner last night. But so far so good. I was a good student back in the day, but it's been 25 years. So wish me luck! My next class is Photoshop, so I'm so excited to get started on that! Maybe I'll post more pictures of myself when I learn how to erase a chin!

So the next part of my wonderful world is I went shopping yesterday at JC Penney and I got three pairs of pants and a shirt to wear to work, a hoodie, two shirts and some leggins for Mimi all for $42!!!! I also had a Tupperware Party that morning and made lunch for my friends and it turned out wonderful. Then we got together with some friends in the evening and watched "Nacho Libre." Now I have a wonderful headache! Anyway, have a wonderful day!

Modern Technology a Curse

2010-04-07T07:00:00.000-06:00

No picture for today's "Oh my heck!" This time you'll have to use your imagination. Imagine a very rainy day when I got off work early. I thought I would have a small outing to the mall with my girls. Ali had to work at 5:00 at the mall anyway, and since her car accident we have been short a car, so that took care of her ride to work.

We shopped, got a Mrs. Field's cookie, bought a couple of fun things and Ali went to work. It was pouring down rain when we got in my van when I had a thought: If Jared picked us up after work, I could leave my van there at the mall and no one will have to go out again to pick Ali up at 10:00. Good plan. Jared agreed and I ran my keys back into the mall to Ali. Instead of dragging Mimi out in the rain again I had her wait in my van, but don't worry, I locked the doors while she played with her Littlest Pet Shop pets.

After giving my keys to Ali I ran to the van in the pelting rain and knocked on the window. Mimi came to the driver's side and pulled on the handle. "Unlock the door!" I yelled. She pushes on the window button. "NO! Unlock it! Push the button!" Meanwhile, the rain is POURING on me. She pulls on the handle again. Rain is soaking through two layers of fleece fabric in my hoodie. "Push the button! Right there - push it forward!"

"I don't know which button!" she's panicking, pulling on the handle again.

"OH MY HECK!" I'm freaking out because not only am I getting soaked, Mimi is locked in the car. It reminds me of the blonde who locked herself in the car and someone had to get a coat hanger to get her out. My daughter does not know how to unlock a car door without a remote control - nor can she roll down the windows without keys in the ignition. My husband pulls up and sees me standing outside of my car, treading water at this point and shouting at Mimi directions for unlocking the car. He had to stop his car and turn it off and bring the keys over to unlock the door. Yep, that's modern technology for you. Our next family meeting will be how to unlock the car door from the inside without a remote control.

Happy Easter!

2010-04-04T20:34:00.005-06:00

I dragged out an old photo of Mimi from Easter in 2006. She looks so innocently sweet. She has Brady in almost every photo we take of her, including our family Christmas portrait year before last. We had a very nice Easter at my step-family's house and had our traditional homemade Italian food - raviolis, gnocchis, Italian pizza (which is more like a quiche kind of thing) and lots of goodies. The littlies went on an Easter Egg hunt. It was nice to spend the day with family.

I had a headache most of the day and I laid in my bed with an icepack on my neck to try to relieve it (along with Excedrin, Klonapin and Jared massaging me) and my sweet little girl read a Junie B. Jones book to me while I had my eyes closed. It was the "Dumb Bunny" book. We both laughed at the funny parts. If you have never read any Junie B. Jones books, I highly recommend them. I read them when I substitued a first grade class and had to stop reading to laugh. They take about 20 minutes to read a whole book.

I don't know if I've mentioned I work full-time as a secretary and I'm now doing classes three nights a week going into graphic design. So far I'm enjoying it - lots to learn and gradually dusting the cobwebs out of my head. I haven't gotten to the fun stuff yet - just all the technical stuff explaining the broad range of career paths in multimedia.

I hope you had a very nice Easter!

An Award - Oh My Heck

2010-03-31T07:00:00.000-06:00

Now I know this isn't a jaw-dropping "Oh My Heck." But I was delightfully surprised to receive a blogging award from Linda at from See Mom Smile. I love reading Linda's blog and as she said, "We both have teenagers." Her story about her not so spiritual day at church was the funniest. I feel we would be great friends doing lunch every week if we lived a little closer. But one day I'm gonna visit her town and we're gonna do lunch for sure!

I would like to pass this award on to three other fun bloggers, one I know and the other two are blog friends:

Lisa at Blue and Shoe I know from high school. Her sister and I were good friends and Lisa was the younger (but still cool) sister. She never exaggerates a story in the name of humor. Her older sister is very funny, too, I don't know why she doesn't have a blog.

Glamazon Mormon Mom always has a great story, too. I know I can turn to her blog on a day I need a laugh, too. I think she may be my on-line twin.

Flea's World is fun and I feel that I have grown to know her and count her as a friend, though we have never met.

Hoppin' Down the Bunny Trail

2010-03-28T19:47:00.003-06:00

"I'm gonna write the Easter Bunny a note and ask him if he'll put our names on our eggs and hide them so we can find them," Mimi says excitedly today.

"Wait a minute. I thought you didn't believe in the Easter Bunny," I remind her.

"No. That was just Santa Claus. Because I found my notes in your cabinet and those painted pieces of wood in Dad's closet," she reminds me. "Plus we don't have a chimney."

I remember blatantly a few weeks ago she announced she knew I was the Easter Bunny. And I said, "Yep." So is she having "Believer's Remorse"? Is she retracting her disbelief? Has she already had too much candy from the Easter Egg hunt on Saturday to remember she is a disbeliever now? Maybe I should get it in writing next time. "I, Mimi, no longer believe in Santa Claus, Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. Therefore, you (the parents, er, uh, Mom) are no longer obliged to provide gifts, chocolate and money from this day forward."

Remember? I was taking this day off. I was going to leave rabbit turds (chocolate covered raisins) instead. Well, she did make me a birthday card. She did make me a "get well" card when I was sick. She also made me a watercolor picture of a rainbow and then got mad at me and got a marker and wrote "To Daddy" on it. So maybe she's the only one who deserves a little treat from the Bunny.

It reminds me of a time I bribed my kids to be good while we ran an errand and I would take them to get an ice-cream afterward. Well, they were little ..... brats..... and I told them that just because they were brats didn't mean I couldn't have a treat. So I bought myself an ice-cream cone and ate it right in front of them. I'm giggling to myself as I think about it because I was so fuming mad with them I'm surprised the ice-cream didn't melt from the steam coming out of my ears. So I pretended to enjoy that ice-cream cone as I ate my frustrations. Bahaha!

So, any suggestions? Remember, I have the 17 and 19 year olds that didn't acknowledge my birthday. I'm trying to be strong. Maybe there should be a movie "The Year Without the Easter Bunny." Maybe I could tell them Mother's Day will be a predetermination for Christmas. I feel so mean! I could always just put Jared in charge. I have this small fear he would make me look bad, you know, that he might spend more than usual and have this feast of holiday favorites. But then I think about how he takes over cooking dinners sometimes and the kids complain that it's not like mom's. Wishful thinking.

Who's the Betterest?

2010-03-25T07:00:00.001-06:00

My Mimi, I had her trained when she was younger to announce that I was 29 years old. She would also answer a prompt of, "Tell them why we call you Mimi." Then she would say on cue, "'Cause it's me-me-me-me-me!" One day, she just quit saying it.

She was about three years old and she came up to me while eating a snack. I asked, "Where did you get that?"

"From the pantry," she answered in her cute little voice that sounded like she'd been sucking on helium.

"Did you ask if you could have that?" I asked.

She looks at her treat and says, "I asked myself and I said I could have some."

Clever answer, but I then ask, "Are you the momma?"

She tilts her head to the side in deep thought and says, "I'm the betterest momma."

Yep. I am in trouble. This is basically her personality in a nutshell. She can be my most loving child and my most hateful child at the same time. She has a competitive streak in her that she was born with. I think she gets that from her dad, because I don't have the energy or the self-esteem to compete with people.

One day when she was in preschool, four years old, I picked up the other little girl in our car pool and they were both dressed up beautifully for picture day. As soon as Bailey sat down in the mini-van Mimi asks, "Who do you think looks the prettiest?"

"I think you both look very pretty," I say, playing safe.

"But who's the prettiest?" she demands.

"You both are very pretty."

"But I'm your daughter, aren't you supposed to think I'm the prettiest?" pressing for her answer. I wouldn't give in. Sometimes I have to say, "It doesn't matter who is the prettiest, both of you are pretty" or "it doesn't matter who wins the game, as long as you had fun." She still asks questions like, "If you had to chose one daughter, who would it be, me or Ali." I then say, "I don't have to make that choice." "You love Ali more," she fishes or, "You think I'm dumb." I guess the good thing is I always know what she is thinking, no beatin' around the bush with her.

Ring a Bell?

2010-03-24T00:00:00.000-06:00

OH MY HECK!!!

This is "Oh my heck Wednesday", right? You know the Pavlov and the salivating dog story, right? How Pavlov would ring a bell and the tester dog would salivate. Dogs don't usually salivate when they hear a bell, but because food would be provided when the bell would ring controlled stimulus brought uncontrolled responses.

I feel the need to share a funny childhood story. I was almost ten years old and my brother, Gene, was about six years old when we went to our grandparents' house in Virginia one Christmas. They owned this chihuahua named Coco. Gene was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out with his arms supporting him from behind when Coco decided to get a little excited on his arm. Yep, humping his arm. Gene laughed and laughed and shouts, "Grandma, LOOK! Coco's doin' an Indian dance!" My Gran shoos the dog and I remember her saying, "Get that nasty thang off there!"

A couple of weeks ago our dog, Copper was standing there and he looked strange. He looked as if he had done something wrong or he was in pain or something. I asked Mimi, "What's wrong with Copper?" She looked him over and said, "Oh. I know. He has a red thing sticking out of his weenie and he's embarassed."

I know I've mentioned Copper's girlfriend. His girlfriend is a lime green volleyball that I have no idea where it came from. Mimi asks me last week, "Why does Copper make his back go up and down, and up and down on that ball?" Here's my pathetic, wimp-out answer: "I think he's trying to make babies with the ball." My sweet tender-heart says as empathetically as she can, "Aw. How cute. Copper wants to be a daddy." C'mon, I wasn't ready to have "the talk" yet. We're still recuperating from Santa Claus and Easter Bunny!

Back to Pavlov and the dog. Somehow, this stupid ball finds it's way back inside my house. The other day, there it was and I kicked it toward the back door and called Copper, so he could go outside with it. I'm sensitive to the fact that a neutered dog still has needs, but not in the house. So I called him and he just stood there. I called him again and he just looked at me. "OH NO! No. No. No." I'm thinking. Well, like Pavlov's dog and his bell is Copper to his ball. He couldn't even walk. I'm sorry if I offend you with this picture, but it was too funny not to share. You can catch a glimpse of his girlfriend behind him.

I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. I hope no one is offended by dog woodies. It was just too sick to not share.

Yes They're Real and They're Fabulous!

2010-03-15T07:00:00.000-06:00

We've had a bit of tragedy in my neighborhood and I don't know how faithful I'll be on my blog for this week. Some friends of ours 25 year old daughter took her own life Friday night and we're left in a somber mood. I'm reposting one of my favorites that I originally posted in Sept. '08.

Some people actually pay to have them! Not me! I like the more natural look. You can spot the fake ones from a mile away! People admire them whether they're real or fake as long as you show them off.

Both of my daughter's want some just like mine. My eight year old and 15 year old are already trying to grow them. I tell them to hold off until they're a little older and told my eight year old, Mimi, they look ridiculous on little girls. The kids at school are going to think she's a little different and what will her teacher think with her sporting them around?!

I guess Ali is old enough and they do come in handy at her age. Boys usually think they're attractive and even the girls like them. And can you believe even girls her age are getting fake ones? A lot of them are jealous when they see how pretty they are, but no matter how hard they try they can't grow any if their life depended on it. I still don't think they look very nice when they are fake and can't believe what some people will pay! And also how it's hard to find a certified professional or they may not look even.

I thought I would put a picture of them on my blog, just to prove to people they can look good natural, without modification. Ali didn't want hers posted all over the Internet, but Mimi and I are proud of ours au naturale!:

If You're "Happy" and You Know it

2010-03-10T07:00:00.000-07:00

It's time for "Oh My Heck" Wednesday again. Well, this is a jaw dropper. This man, nicknamed "Happy" was arrested for burglary. He and another man told their victim they were policemen and took a computer. The person they robbed was able to identify "Happy" by his unusual tattoos. You probably shouldn't get tattoos when you're drunk - or when you plan on robbing people.

"Hmmm, what tattoo should I get? The rose with my baby's mama's name? The tribal thingy? The eagle? No, I think I want to look permanently happy, but in a creepy kind of way." Really, what was he thinking? Maybe he's a clown in real life and he just got sick of putting make-up on day after day. "Look boys and girls, Happy is here! Happy the clown! Don't mind the razor stubble. Wait - where's his wig. I didn't order the middle-aged balding clown, I wanted the rainbow Afro."

You know, the more I think about it I think he went to the school of tattooing and got practise tattoos. Some little tattoo artist-in-training got some hours in on Happy. Maybe he bought the "Be Your Own Tattoo Artist" on "As Seen On TV." After a few beers to deaden the pain and a magnifying mirror, a tattoo pen and coloring book and Bob's your uncle. Anyway, I'm an artist and I cannot appreciate any aspect of artistic expression at all. A happy expression, but not artistic. Whoever did this is not an artist - a doodler maybe, but not an artist. They really need to stick to telephone books and spiral notebooks.

Hamster Heaven

2010-03-06T05:00:00.001-07:00

This is a post from almost two years ago. I just thought you would enjoy it at this time of year.

Mimi, age 7, had this cute little dwarf hamster that she named "Chocolate Chip"that she absolutely loved. She was constantly holding it, loving it and would hold it in her hand and bounce it about eight inches in the air and catch it. I told her not to bounce her hamster like that and she said, "But I'm getting really good at catching!" Mimi loved Chocolate Chip so much I thought she was going to love her to death because she never put her down. She decided to give Choc Chip a bath in the sink without telling us about it until after the fact.

I was running errands one day and came home when Ali (14) announced that Mimi's hamster died. I knew her little heart would be broken. I decided to peek out the back door to make sure she was alright. She seemed to be doing just fine because my backyard was full of kids. The neighbor boy, age 6, was jumping on our trampoline with something in his cupped hand. I asked what he had when he produced the dead hamster. I tried not to freak out (but I did) and I asked Mimi, "Why didn't you and Daddy bury her?" She answered, "We did, but Tait wanted to see her."

I dug a hole a little deeper in the same spot in the yard and we buried her again. Her friend's mom came to pick up her daughter about a half an hour later and we couldn't find the two girls anywhere. I called every friend's I thought she would be at and couldn't find her. So we stood in the backyard and thought they would appear soon. We were right. They soon came running around the corner. Mimi had her hands behind her back looking guilty. I asked what she had behind her back and she said, "Nothing."

"You didn't dig up your hamster again, did you?" I asked. She pulled her hands out from behind her back and yes.......there was the hamster! I said, "Gross, Mimi! Why did you dig her up?" She said, "I wanted to visit her," as she rubbed the hamster corpse against her cheek. I had to control my gag reflex.

I buried the hamster again and told Mimi she need to let Chocolate Chip's spirit rest so she can go to Hamster Heaven.

The next day we went to church and afterwards, Mimi announced, "I'm going to change into my play clothes and go outside and play for a minute." She's not a good liar, so I wondered if the hamster would be exhumed again. I told my husband her plan and he said, "Do I have to bury her somewhere else in the yard?" I thought, that might be a little freaky if Mimi tried to dig her up again and it was gone. How do you explain that? So we got the video camera out and watched out of our bedroom window as she dug it up.

The next day we bought her another hamster, named Wiggles. "Rest in Peace" Chocolate Chip.

Home Hovering

2010-03-03T05:00:00.001-07:00

Remember the story about the horrific public toilet that I had to use? Well, I didn't have to look much further than our children's loo. This one is Mimi's after she bathed the dog. Why are there three towels on the floor for one little dog I ask? There's a plastic box that she used as a bucket to gently rinse him.

Now there is no excuse for washing dogs in this bathroom. This is my two teenagers' bathroom. It's in the basement which is still under construction - notice the floor isn't finished being tiled? I'm actually standing in the toilet room where their shower is. So this is just the sink/mirror area they use to beautify themselves. I just don't get it. I don't do their laundry, so I'm sure they run out of clothes eventually and have to pick them up off the floor. I should mention most of the clothes belong to my son. The bathroom is between their bedrooms, so I don't know why it's so hard to carry them to their room and put them in their own personal dirty clothes baskets. I guess one toilet overflow and they might learn. Hmmm. I feel an April Fool's joke coming on. Fake doggie doo is seeming really funny at the moment. I'll let you know how it goes.

Well, after viewing these bathrooms, I'm thinking next time my own loo is occupied, I may just go to the neighbors rather than use the kids' bathroom. I'd have to hover there and I could just possibly get hurt.

My Golden Child

2010-02-27T22:56:00.016-07:00

Name: Alexandra Faye

Born: February 17, 1993

Weight: 8lb 3 oz.

Place of Birth: Mater Misericordiae Hospital, Brisbane, Queensland, Australia

This is my very favorite picture of me and Ali
together. She looks like a little baby doll. I had made her little outfit which looks like an old-fashioned baby dress with pantaloons and an apron. The fabric actually has little polka dots on it. I always got so many compliments when she was wearing it because it brought out her blue eyes. She was a beautiful baby. I couldn't believe that I could be part of making a child so breathtakingly beautiful. This was winter so I would say she is about four months old.

This is her on her first birthday. Doesn't that look like fun to clean up. Actually, she was always really messy.

She would stuff her cheeks as full as they would go with food and then spit it all out and then eat the small, pre-chewed pieces. Now, she is a verminophobe. Don't even touch her roll to pass it to her or she won't eat it.

Her calling as a fashion model started young. This was at our house in Brissy (Brisbane - pronounced Briz-ben). She looks to be about two years old. We moved to the US when she was three.

It's a shame these photos fade with time. I'm going to become a pro at Photoshop soon, and restore them one day. This dress is actually a light blue and this was her Easter dress when she was eight years old. Her baby sister had a matching dress and they looked so darn precious together!

This is Ali at nine years old with her older cousins when we went back to visit Oz. They've all grown up to be beautiful young ladies. Imogen and Lizzie are both Uni students (that's Aussie for "university") and Ali is doing well in high school.

This is Ali when she was a blonde. It bothered her that her eyebrows were always darker than her hair, so she dyed her hair darker. Ask me if that slightly broke my heart. She was always my little blondie.

Here she is at age 17 with a cute, nice boy from her school on the night of the Preference Dance. Aren't they adorable. She still looks beautiful with dark hair and she is wearing the perfect color.

I think everyone should be lucky enough to have a daughter like Ali. She is so kind hearted, responsible, talented, smart. I never have to ask her to do her homework and she usually helps around the house if I ask her. She sings amazingly and will be in her high school musical as "Gertrude McFuzz" in "Suessical the Musical."

You know, as I was writing this I got a phone call from her and she had just gotten in a car accident. She is okay - her car not so much. Some one pulled out in front of her and they collided. She hurt her ankle, but it's not broken. How scary! I'm glad that her and the other teen (who JUST barely got her driver's license) are okay.

I just couldn't imagine if anything happened to my golden child.

"Oh My Heck" Wednedsay!

2010-02-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

Do you really think I can keep up "Oh My Heck" Wednesday? I'm sure there are enough things that have need of exclaiming "Oh my heck" but I'm lucky to post every week on a consistent day. Though I'm trying to do better.

Do you know what this is a picture of? It's my next door neighbor mowing his lawn in the middle of February. In Australia, that would be the norm, but this is desert mountain area! There are still patches of snow on the ground! Nothing has grown in four months!

I had my daughter take this picture out of our bathroom window. It's the only window on that side of the house. I really wanted to get a picture of him last week when he was shoveling the snow. Not in his driveway, however, shoveling the snow off of his front yard. I thought if I did a U-turn on my street and stopped in front of his house and snapped a picture with my camera, it might be a little obvious and not very appreciated. So there went that great photo opportunity.

In my neighbor's defense, he does have a very well manicured lawn. In fact the house on the other side of us has a well manicured lawn as well. You know that saying "if there are no rednecks in your neighborhood, it's probably you." That's not really a saying, I think I made it up. Well, we happen to meet yards with the only retired people on the street. And they are both very focused on their lawns.

Then there is us, we, "those" people. A business owner who works overtime, a wife who works full-time to provide health insurance, a teenage son who doesn't do what he's darn well told, a very busy over-achieving teen daughter and a tiny daughter who isn't able to maneuver a lawn mower. We are freakin' lucky to have grass and a fence (to hide all the redneckness) at this point!

There's another saying, "The grass always seems greener on the other side." Well, it's actually true in this case.

I just have to make one addendum. Spellchecker accepted "heck" but rejected "freakin'" and "redneckness." Looks like "heck" is an official word - woo hoo! Now lets all become fans of "Droppin' the 'g' out of the 'ing' in the American language."

Too Good Not to Share

2010-02-23T22:15:00.003-07:00

You know when you find a good thing and you gotta tell friends about it? Usually it involves calories, but I want to share my friend's wonderful post. Lisa is so funny and talented and I have gotten to know her more in the last few months. Her (not much) older sister and I were very close friends in high school, so I've known her since we were hot young babes.

Even though she is so awesome, please don't love her more than me. Okay, if you must, I won't blame you. http://blueandshoe.blogspot.com/2010/02/hands.html

The Santa Spy

2010-02-21T22:45:00.000-07:00

"Mom, do you believe in Santa?" asks Mimi.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?" I say.

"Well, I'll get to that point in a minute," she says, sounding much more mature than she is. "Do you remember the present I gave Santa?"

"No. What was it?"

"It was a painted piece of wood. Remember, it said 'Merry Christmas' and 'Joy to the World' on it?" You might remember this from "Redneck & Green Season."

"No. What about it?"

"Well, the other day I asked Dad for some batteries and I looked in the place in your closet that the batteries are always kept and I found the present I gave Santa."

"So do you think Dad is Santa Claus?" Don't even go there after my letter to the Easter Bunny.

"Also, why do you have a letter that I wrote to Santa in your dresser?" she asks accusingly.

"What do your friends think, do they believe in Santa?" I say, slightly diverting her question. I don't think we ever had an official talk with the older two, I think it was just understood after awhile. The parent handbook never said you had to have this conversation - just the "birds and bees" one.

"Well, most of them believe in Santa - except Clara. And Santa's handwriting looks a lot like your handwriting," she says. I'm thinking, "Yes! Proof that mom is the only Santa." After thinking about that one, if Jared were to write the name tags out on the gifts, the kids would think Santa delivered the gifts to the wrong house. I typed all his papers for school, so I can say that. I can hear them saying, "Who's this present for? It says 'SCILHT'" Yep. Must belong to some kid from Scandinavia.

"So what do you believe?" I ask.

She says frustratingly, "I don't know what I believe anymore." So, I wasn't ready to have that talk anymore than I was ready to explain the tampon commercials. I think we had a subject change, which wouldn't surprise me because that's how Mimi's brain works.

Do you remember when you "knew" about Santa? I think in 5th grade I was still wondering. Then a friend said, "You don't still believe in Santa, do you? HA! It's your parents, Doofus!" My response, "Of course I knew that, duh." Then swallowed hard and tried to hold the tears back. I'm not a confrontational kind of person so I never approached my parents about this subject, or the birds and the bees. Gosh, so much info in 5th grade - and you get periods, too?! Which ironically we referred to as Santa being here.

We were always told if we quit believing in Santa, he'll quit coming. So even if we knew it was our parents we didn't admit it. It always baffled me how he would get into our house when we didn't have a chimney. That really bothered me. The answer was Santa has a magic key and that's how he gets in all houses. Still disturbing that someone has access to your house like that. I might have to get Seth or Ali to give her the talk, I don't think it would be as traumatic. Then they can add, "Don't tell them you know" and it will be a silent understanding.

Friday Confessional

2010-02-19T21:09:00.004-07:00

Ooops! I forgot to add the button of Glamazon, who is my new BFF.

Okay, for those who don't know, I have a confession. I really like those morbid mystery shows that solve crimes. Not the Hollywood kind, the true story kind. I watch them on TRU TV, and ID TV - love 'em! My husband and children ask, "Why do you like those shows about murder?" It's not about murder. It's about finding the murderer with DNA, forensic science and stuff. It's about me taking notes so I can hide their bodies and outsmarting the authorities.

So, my husband, Mr. Red Personality, Mr. Control Freak, brought me home some chocolates tonight. Does he think this makes up for him being a total @%*(&@# the other day? Even if they are Ferrero Rochers? Does he think that punching below the belt with total lies can be forgiven with 7 ounces of chocolate hazelnut goodness?

I'm suspicious now. I think he's trying to kill me. We all know that 7 ounces does not equal 7 ounces. I think he wants me to gain weight - a lot of weight. Then I might feel the need to exercise and being in the bad shape that I am I will most likely die. It would probably be a slow and painful death. First, labored breathing. Then flushing of the skin and breaking into a sweat. My heart would start pounding, pounding, pounding until it exploded. The death would look natural and he would get away with the perfect crime.

I'm writing this so the world can know if this happens, it was premeditated murder. Tell the coroner to look for a slight odor of bitter hazelnuts. Someone contact Keith Morrison of Dateline NBC to do a story on me. Please tell him I was well loved and very funny and don't let them say I died doing what I loved the most. I really hate that saying. Remember, they could only say that if I died choking on a piece of cheesecake.

Too Peed to Blog

2010-02-17T20:56:00.003-07:00

There is nothing nice to say. Amazing how husbands that you can love so much on Valentine's Day can really make you feel like slipping them a bit of cyanide a couple of days later. No - that wouldn't work. They can always tell by the smell of bitter almonds.

I guess I'm feeling a little unappreciated this week. Today is Ali's 17th birthday and I guess my husband felt it necessary to start a fight.

At work we had an inservice about choking. Our Workforce Development Officer asked if anyone has choked or been with someone who was choking and if you knew what to do. I wanted to say I've wanted to choke my husband before, but didn't.

I will blog about my Birthday girl another day - when I'm not peed.

Dear Freakin' Easter Bunny, I'm Resigning

2010-02-14T17:47:00.007-07:00

Dear Freakin' Easter Bunny,

I am done. I am finished with shopping for tooth rotting candy and useless trinkets for cutesy baskets that don't get appreciated anyway. Point in case:

When Mimi was three she came down stairs on Easter Sunday to get ready for church. She sat down at our counter on the bar stool and with her usual morning grumpiness she barely glanced at her Easter basket. But it was there. In front of her. There was a darling little sequin purse in the shape of a cute little bunny. She grabbed the purse and flung it over her shoulder as hard as she could, surprised she didn't fall off the bar stool. "I already gotta purse," she sputtered.

She looked at her basket, still scowling and grabbed the cute little stuffed animal puppy and sent that flying over her shoulder. "I already gotta puppy," she spewed.

Her older siblings looked at her in horror. It was like a bad Disney movie where the spoiled princess doesn't appreciate anything.

When you thought there was nothing else to say she says disgustedly, "Candy, candy, candy! There's too much candy!" It's amazing how a child that looks like a cherub could spew such utterings.

After getting some breakfast into her and she had time to wake up, she put her bunny purse over her shoulder and carried her puppy and a stash of candy to church.

But here's my complaint, Mr. Easter Bunny. I'm tired of shopping for just the right treats to make sure my children have their favorites. I really don't like getting Easter Egg dye on my fingers. My creativity has run out for little trinkets and sometimes money left in plastic Easter Eggs. And for what? A few minutes of gratification and some stupid imaginary rabbit who stops procreating for a night to drop off goodies to good girls and boys to get the credit of my hard labors.

I admit I have enjoyed using your yearly visit as a leveraging point for good behavior. But I'm going to break it to my nine year old, my seventeen year old and my nineteen year old this year there is no such thing as a carrot eating, egg packing, chocolate hoarding rabbit that comes to our house. The only thing rabbits leave are droppings - little chocolate covered raisin looking droppings.

By the way, the tooth fairy and Santa Claus will be receiving similar letters. Because it's not that they are in reality your parents - they are ME! All ME! Dad has nothing to do with it. He is always surprised on Christmas morning, too! And a fat man in a red suit gets the credit!

So I hereby resign as you. "Why?" you ask. Because you just had a birthday and my kids couldn't take the time to make a sentiment for all you do for them. But I will cherish my Santa letters, and tooth fairy letters with tiny little replies because the tooth fairy is so tiny and writes tiny.

It's not that I feel unappreciated, that I work full time now after being a stay at home mom for years so I can provide health insurance for my family. I still try to keep the house clean and bills paid and attempt to open a can or frozen dinner for them. Life has changed. So I'm going to give myself my own *&%@ presents and make myself feel special for one *&%@ day! So when they find out the Easter Bunny is not real - they are on their own. I'm leaving chocolate covered raisins.

Publicpottyphobia

2010-02-13T20:15:00.004-07:00

Sometimes words are just not enough. Pictures can say so much more. So when I was shopping at an Asian grocery store with my mom and husband, I couldn't believe my eyes.

First I should say it's my birthday and we went out to a yummy Gastronomy restaurant where I had the best salad with crab and jumbo shrimp in it and two Diet Cokes. So as we were shopping nature called. Then it started yelling and I know I'm going to pay a big embarrassing price for not listening to the first calls one of these days. So, I looked for the restroom in this Asian grocery store. Wouldn't you know? The women's restroom was "Closed from people flushing unflushables." True. That's what the sign said. Then a worker lady yells and points to the door next to it and yells, "Go in that one!" Well, that's what I was about to do with or without her permission.

This is what I see:

I really couldn't believe that this was real life, but I was desperate. So the view from the loo was this:

After flushing legitimate flushables, I ask you.....do you see a sink? Neither do I. Lucky I ate ribs last week and kept my little handi-wipe in my purse.

You'd think by now I would have a phobia of public toilets. I actually Googled that to see if there was an actual name for that phobia. There is not. You'd think there would be a term describing an actual condition that I know a lot of people have.

There's "verminophobia" which is the fear of germs. "Pathophobia" is the fear of disease. Another scary one is "Coprophobia" which is the fear of feces. I read a simple description, but not designated term called "toilet phobia." Most of us have had toddlers that we swear had that one, but when you think about it in proportion, if you had to sit on something the size of a small swimming pool that could swallow you whole, you would be afraid, too. Maybe have a little aquaphobia.

I learned about a phobia called "alektorophobia" which is the fear of chickens. Now, I know a lot of people and none of them are afraid of chickens, but I know plenty of people who put a toilet seat liner on and still hover over the toilet in fear of germs, disease, urine, butt sweat, fecal matter or even the toilet bowl ogre. WHY does this fear not have a name?! This is a legitimate condition and I am very close to having it. I am signing up for a gymnastics class next week just so I can maneuver the public restrooms.

My Doppelganger

2010-02-02T20:58:00.009-07:00

They had "doppelganger week" on Facebook. A doppelganger is a German word for any double or look-alike of a person. I couldn't think of anyone famous that I looked like. Famous people don't look like me. I'm just a nicely kempt motherly-looking person. I'm sure Pee Wee Herman could make me look like a million bucks. But I guess he's not really known as the "Sexiest Man Alive". Is he even a man? Ew-hew-hew. I just shuddered.

Finally, tonight I realized I do have a doppelganger! You know, when I changed my profile picture for Shades of Blonde, no one - not anyone even mentioned they noticed the change. At first I was a little insulted. It has just hit me now that I look freakishly like Barbie! I even have a tattoo on my butt that says Mattel! I quit wearing blue eye shadow years ago, but by golly - the resemblance is spooky! No wonder no one noticed.

It was fun seeing people post pictures on Facebook of famous people they have been told or thought they looked like. Some were not so accurate. Me, I'm stopped all the time and asked, "Are you Barbie?"

"No, but thanks. I have bendable knees and elbows and my head doesn't spin all the way around." Well, not on a good day, anyway.

But what Barbie and I do have in common is we both have pierced ears, bleached blonde hair, big chest (but mine are real), matching tattoos, accessories for every outfit and sometimes I lose my head. I know, you're wondering if my head is empty like hers, too. It is chockers full of good and intelligent thoughts!

I have to point out some other differences. She is quite a few years older than me, which reminds me of the next difference - I haven't had any plastic surgery. She looks 17 every year. I was trying to get away with being 29 and well, it wasn't working for me. Barbie wears false eyelashes. At one time it was just one big horizontal eyelash. I always wondered as a child if that was painful in anyway.

Another difference is my eyelids actually close and I'm going to go and close them right now in my Barbie dream bed with my Ken, who wears so much gel in his hair it looks plastic.

The Dash Ain't Silent

2010-01-26T21:02:00.005-07:00

There's a story about a girl who was enrolled in school whose name was Le-a. No one could figure out if it was pronounced "Lee-ah", "Lay-ah" or "Lee-ay." When they asked the mom she said it was pronounced "Ledasha. Because the dash ain't silent."

I looked myself up on a network of blogs it said my last blog entry was titled " - ". Just a dash. I didn't remember using that as a title and then remembered I didn't title my last entry, which was just a Post-it saying, "Happy Australia Day, Mates." None of my Aussie friends or rellies even replied to that, so next year - no Post-it for you! I'm sure they were all busy at the beach, having barbies, fighting off mozzies and having a great sunny avo.

We had a lovely Australia Day with snow on the ground which is typical this time of year. But we did go out to dinner to celebrate. Any excuse for celebration.

2010-01-26T08:05:00.000-07:00

Deal Breakers - a Meme

2010-01-25T17:42:00.003-07:00

SupahMommy posted this meme so here goes:

Five relationship deal breakers (friend, family, in-laws, etc.)

1. Reciprocate. That means if I invite you to my house for dinner, call you to chat or invite you to a Tupperware party and you can't make it - it's your turn. But don't not come to my Tupperware party and expect me to come to yours, 'cause that is so rude. And if I came to your Tupperware party and bought something and booked a party off of yours you are obliged to come to mine and help me get my freakin' free stuff. True friends help you get freakin' free stuff! I do not invest in one-sided friendships. Actually, what I really mean is you need to call me once in awhile and instigate activities.

2. You must not be offended by potty talk. I don't know why but I find gross things funny. Except spit. I don't like someone else's saliva touching me. Not purposely or accidently. If you spit when you talk - the deal is off. Or snot. I don't like that either. My brother had a friend when he was in 3rd grade that had a perma-booger. I've never forgotten him. His name is Bubba Rogers. More like Hubba Bubba cause he always had a lime green bubble in his nostril. But you must be able to talk about it and dry heave together. And you must think anatomy is funny, too. Butts and boobs. Funny stuff.

3. You cannot be offended by burps. If you are, then you won't like me. We all have our talents and once in awhile mine comes up. I have a philosophy: "Why fart and waste it when you can burp and taste it?" FYI, I never have flatulence. Some people think they are one and the same. They are not. One is air expelled from your stomach and the other is from your bowel. They are different and if you think they are not then I want to see you eat lunch with your bottom.

4. You must not be cuter than me. I don't usually find many people who can break this deal. You're safe.

5. You must think I am funny. You can be funnier than me, but you must think I am funny. Laughing with friends is the absolute best. Usually when I laugh, that is your cue to laugh. I know, it's pathetic that I laugh at my own jokes. It's more pathetic when I am the only one laughing at my own jokes. If you don't laugh - that's a deal breaker.

Well, that's it for my deal breakers. I could go on and on, but that's a good start. I don't want to ruin it for any potential friends. I'm really not that high maintenance. It's not like I expect you to remember my birthday (next month) or lavish me with gifts (I like pink & chocolate & hate knick knacks).

Things You Wish You Didn't Know

2010-01-21T20:25:00.009-07:00

Don't you hate it when you know certain things and you wish you didn't know them? Like I wish a certain person hadn't told me their self-righteous, angel-faced spouse had two affairs. I hate that kind of information. Because what do you do with that information? It's like you kinda want to tell others but you know you shouldn't because then they have the information stuck in their head and they wish they didn't.

Like in high school when I learned in Science that Jello was made out of bones. It was kind of exciting to have that kind of information but you wish you didn't have it at the same time. So I decided to share this great tidbit at lunch when there was a nice square of Jello with a dob of whipped cream on the top.

Krista, age 16: "Do you know what Jello is really made of?"

Maureen, age 17, as she drops her utensils, throws her head back in disgust and immediately stops chewing her food: "Do you know how long it took me to forget that?"

Guess who had two servings of Jello that day? I actually don't eat gelatin very often and when I do I always think of bones.

Here's a love/hate scenario: I LOVE chocolate. Chocolate cake, chocolate

cookies, chocolate cheesecake, chocolate candy.

Okay, focus here. Focus.

I HATE bugs. Which is one reason I didn't do Australia well. Which is why I have to share this picture of my second cousin once removed-in-law with a very spooky critter on his head. I can barely look at this photo. Which is why I made the picture small. Back to bugs. When I lived in Australia I was seeing a Naturopath and she gave me an article she though would cure my addiction to chocolate.

This is the part where you may want to push "Next Blog" at the top of the page. Well....er....uh

....I even googled to confirm this information since it was over ten years old. I'll just tell you and then you will have to decide what to do with this information. It is apparently impossible to prevent cockroaches from contaminating the vats in which chocolate is manufactured. The FDA says that up to 4% by weight may legitimately contain "cockroach parts." People that have allergies to chocolate are usually allergic to the cockroach content. Some people experience allergic reactions such as asthma, headache, heartburn, rectal itching, hives, skin rashes. Did you just read over "rectal itching" like it was nothing? "Excuse me, I just had a Hershey bar and I gotta go scratch my butt." Like, how do you figure these things out? What kind of research study groups figure that out? How do you know it wasn't just a coincidence? Maybe the testers had a diet of nothing but chocolate for two weeks and were scootin' around like dogs with worms.

Shudder.

So, I've had this information for years and like bones are to gelatin, cockroaches are to chocolate. I have a slight allergic reaction to chocolate - when I eat too much it makes my butt swell. And it still hasn't stopped me from eating it. But if you are cured, please tell!

Guess What I Found?

2010-01-19T15:48:00.016-07:00

Not my sanity, but thanks for asking. Some things are better lost. I'm at home sick from work today. Not sick of work, I love it there. It's just that I answer the phones and I have absolutely no voice - barely a squeak and I have a coughing fit about every two minutes. I'm sure as much as they miss me at work, they are glad they aren't going to catch my germs. I wanted to post a picture to describe how ugly I looked this morning after coughing the entire night:

I hate getting photos taken when I don't have my make up on.

What the heck is that anyway? A dog-rat mixed with a demon?

I think I may have coughed that up, actually.

I've been spending some spare time on Facebook, catching up with old friends. A lot of people have been posting pictures from long ago calling it "Way Back Week." So I just had to post this picture from third grade. This is when my nickname was "Bucky Beaver". It's kind of sad, really, that and yellow has never been my color. Nothing like a homemade haircut ala Mom! What can I say? I had to fight the boys off from an early age.

So, back to what I found besides old photos. I decided to check out some other people's blogs by clicking on the "Next Blog" button at the top of the screen. There were some very interesting blogs, some cute blogs, some family oriented blogs and even a couple of spooky blogs. I FOUND I had something in common with almost all of them: I haven't been overly consistent in keeping up my blog. Almost all of them had an apology for not writing before their most recent entry. I thought it was just me having Blogger's block. The truth is sometimes you just don't have time or anything blog worthy.

We can just hope that the future looks better.

Vrolijke Kerstfeest

2009-12-06T17:13:00.005-07:00

My family was invited to our friends' house for a Dutch Christmas party. It was so much fun learning about their family tradition. We enjoyed a smorgasboard of wonderful Dutch food and some American favorites, too.

We learned about Sinterklaas and Swarte Pete and sang a Dutch Christmas song.

The kids went on a potato hunt throughout the house. Then Swarte Pete arrived throwing candy out to all the children and Sinterklaas gave a gift to each child.

It was a really lovely night with friends, new friends, neighbors and Gretchen's family. This is a picture of me with the two hostesses, Lola and Gretchen, as they are adorned in their Dutch costumes (minus the hats).

Red (neck) and Green Season

2009-11-21T23:21:00.009-07:00

I went downstairs to the basement to find some ribbon for my newly purchased Christmas presents when I saw a sight so shocking - so horrible I didn't know what to even do. I was on the phone with my BFF, Karen, when I described the gruesome scene:

Little pieces of wood and sheetrock left the telltale signs. Watercolors, paintbrushes, glitter, glue, ribbon, pom poms. I know the basement looks like a construction zone anyway, because there is some construction going on. I had visions of - no, not sugarplums - vacuums, sponges, weeping and wailing. Karen laughed a little too hard but I understood. It was her turn to laugh, afterall. It's usually her kids playing with the liquid pump soap in the sink, or the toothpaste or the toilet paper. My youngest is a year older than her oldest, so I thought I was done with all the disasterous stuff.

I decided to play a little trick on Mimi (age 9). I went upstairs and said (while Karen was on the phone), "Can you believe what Seth (age 19) has done? He has been making a mess with paint and sheetrock and wood downstairs. He even made a heart out of sheetrock and glitter and pom poms."

"Seth has?!" Jared asks.

"Yes, Seth. He left a big mess downstairs - it's everywhere!" I answered.

Mimi 'fesses up, "It's MINE!"

"It's your mess?" I'm trying to stay straight-faced and Karen is not helping.

Jared said, "I was wondering, Seth - doing work?"

Mimi's eyes start watering, "It's mine! You probably saw your Christmas present!"

Okay, now I feel kinda bad. Amazing how she glued two pieces of rectangle sheet rock together to make a heart, covered in glitter and pom poms!

I went to lunch with my friend Princess Na'alie (that's Natalie with a Cockney accent) a couple weeks ago and told her all about the wallet my Mimi made for our neighbor who used to be her teacher at church. It was made of silver duct tape. I told Na'alie I was trying to talk Mimi out of giving it to her, but never mentioned the words "she's going to think we're rednecks." Mimi thought it was so beautiful, being silver with hearts drawn on it and had her name "Lori" written on it. I got a sweet message on Facebook saying she loved the wallet and loved Mimi. It was truly a gift from Mimi's little heart. Na'alie wants one now.

I'm adding some pictures in case you want to place your orders.

We are back ordered on duct tape wallets at this time.

2009-09-20T22:33:00.006-06:00

Here's a few pictures from our "Roman Ruins - How to Host A Murder" night. We had so much fun and had yummy food and wonderful company! I get to play the poor widow of the victim (Flabbius) and everyone at the dinner table were suspects. I was Mercedes and drove a four horsepowered chariot. Jared was Harangus Adnauseum, a senator.
Then there was Cleptopatra and Maximus played by our friends Gretchen and David.

Matt and Rebecca were Licentius and Rotunda. Licentius was a trend setter in Roman fashion.

Then there was Bogus the priest of the Cult of the Blue Oyster and Flotilla who had a hard time keeping her ships afloat. These were our neighbors Lance and Jodi.

We had a great spinach dip for appetizers (that Clepto stole off the Internet), I tried my hand a Souvlaki - (also from the Internet - glad to have friends to sample a new recipe - it was so good I may have to post it), pita bread (that I remembered half way through dinner), saffron rice, Greek Salad and a peach dessert.

Regarding Frolicking

2009-09-16T12:45:00.002-06:00

I thought I would answer some questions asked of me in a blog post. We went to Oregon to visit my dad and step-mother over Labor Day and thought we would visit the Redwood Forest since we were so close. We had gone seven years ago and I had said about the forest, "I feel like a tiny little fairy amongst all these huge trees." So we thought we would rent costumes and dress the part. Now some people would think that is a strange idea, but my family had so much fun doing this and it has created a forever memory. I reluctantly added a picture of myself (because we know how much I love getting my photo taken) and I am kissing my little Mimi in the picture, which is the best of a bad bunch. It was drizzling rain and my hair protested so in most pictures I look more like a scarecrow than a fairy. There weren't a lot of people around during our photo session, so we didn't have to feel too uncomfortable. Actually, I think I was the only one who felt uncomfortable and once again thinking, "Me and my big ideas!"

Adventures in the Redwood Forest

2009-09-15T19:38:00.004-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

2009-09-09T08:11:00.001-06:00

30% Of Life

2009-08-16T13:45:00.000-06:00

I walk by the boys bathroom and I hear a loud belch. I try not to giggle. Then there's the boy who is peeking around the wall and when he sees me he disappears behind it. Then there's the table of workers when a lone worker stands up quickly and rolls his fists around each other doing a disco move and sits back down unnoticed, but I noticed. And I laugh unnoticed because I'm not used to seeing people doing such random things. Well, in the real world anyway.

Then there was a girl who started a fight with another girl because she held the door open because she was new.......and didn't know who the boss of the door was. Another girl was reminded to give people their personal space.

Then there's this boy that asks me every time I see him if I like him......followed by "I'm going to watch you in that movie on Friday. This many times!" and holds up a couple of fingers. "You won't forget me now, will you?" He thinks I look like an old time western television star. I look nothing like her.....not even a little bit.

There's a girl walking down the hall with her arms folded and her bottom lip sticking out, pouting, and another who lets out a blood curdling scream because she is having a temper tantrum.

A boy came up to me and showed me his certificate that he earned for perfect attendance. Another boy showed me his certificate for "Employee of the Month." A girl told me she was absent yesterday because she was throwing up and had "dia-wee-ah."

It sounds like a typical day in kindergarten, but this is my workplace with adults with disabilities. I love it. So when I skip down the hall trying to make our HR Manager laugh, I just fit in.

Nothing to Say but Thanks

2009-08-06T22:18:00.003-06:00

I just wanted to say thank you for the prayers and thoughts that have been in my behalf. Though I don't have a major catastrophe (define "major") happening in my life, I have been going through some very personal things and I appreciate your thoughts. I hope to be back and raring to go when the kids are back in school and my house is somewhat clean and I have time to think.

Name That Tune Monday - Answer

2009-06-22T15:38:00.002-06:00

It was House of the Rising Sun by the Animals. Thanks, James! Alex was our winner this week.

Name That Tune Monday

2009-06-22T10:00:00.000-06:00

Our friend James sang this a while back. Name the title and artist of this song. The author is unknown and has been performed by serveral people so name the version of this song. G'luck!

Greetings Visitors

2009-06-19T11:41:00.006-06:00

I'm so excited to see you if I could I would jump all over you! Thanks for the coveted Golden Hydrant Award. I will be sure to leave my scent marking on it and send it back! Since a lot of you will be from "Life With Dogs" and love our canine friends I will tell you about my little experience last night which has still left me traumatized!

Copper is new to our family (two weeks now) and we haven't owned a dog in our 20 years of marriage. If you click on that link you will see him and his new best friend, Mimi. No, Mimi is not a cat. She is a nine year old homosapien. If you don't know what a homosapien is, you might be surprised, because she is a very special breed.

Copper has a girlfriend. I knew from his previous owners that it was a pink volleyball. I chose to leave her behind and hoping Copper would forget her quickly and adapt to abstinence. He found a beautiful lime green volleyball to replace her. I don't know where this ball came from, so it must have been fate.

I was in my bedroom when my cell phone rang. I had to open my bedroom door to get it and as soon as my door was opened my eyes and mind were tainted forever. It was Copper and his girlfriend showing public displays of affection. The funny thing was the look on his face. He looked totally guilty. I said in my most disappointed/disgusted voice, "COPPER!" Off he came. "That ball needs to stay outside!" I really don't know how it made it's way inside. Catching Copper in the act is something I don't want to do again.

So this morning he left a gift on the carpet. I actually considered photographing it and posting it, but even Life With Dogs doesn't do that. It would be bad taste, I know. I don't know if this was just regression from adjusting to a new family or in protest of catching him in the act. Any advice for new dog owners on helping dogs find a new hobby? At least he hasn't resorted to legs! ;-)

Name Your Tune Monday

2009-06-15T10:00:00.000-06:00

I apologize, but this week I couldn't pull off Name That Tune Monday. Lots of friends are on vacation this week and unavailable, so I will be hitting them up and hopefully getting ahead of myself for the next several weeks. I have had fun providing little gifts for friends and I really love to give things.

Do you remember the series "Ally McBeal"? One thing I remember (besides the dancing baby) was the "theme song" the therapist recommended to have. Mine is "Give a Little Respect" by Erasure. I never get sick of that song and when I pop in my "Pop" CD I belt out that tune like know one can hear me. I don't think they can actually hear me but it probably looks really weird to see a minivan with a loud "thump, thump" coming from it. I'm sure I look totally fine in my sun glasses with my mouth opened wide as I'm singing, "Tooo-ooo-oooo-ooooo meeeeee!"

My other theme song would be another oldie, but goodie, "Break Free" from Queen. That is one jammin' good song. I've got my kids and their friends loving that song and when I play taxi that is the song most requested and we have to have it up loud and we all sing it VERY loud. Of course we are all dancing in our seats and in this case probably looks weird to see a minivan full of teens with a mom, hearing "thump, thump" and watching it bounce three feet off the ground in rhythm.

I drove to Arizona a couple of summers ago and we jammed all the way listening to Queen. We didn't get sick of them at all and it was shortly after seeing "Ella Enchanted" where Anne Hathaway sang "Somebody To Love." She did a fun version of it but I have to say when I hear Freddie sing it I see ogres dancing now.

So......I want to know this week what your theme song is or would be if you had one. Please share!

Got Treats?

2009-06-08T19:29:00.007-06:00

So here I was, with my family in the country, playing with my favorite stick. I saw a van pull up and a very hot lady human and a girl human got out. I decided to say hi. "Hello! Hello!" I jumped up so they could to pat my head better. "Where's my stick?" I ran and got it and handed it to the new humans so they could throw it for me. Surely, they won't be sick of throwing it. They were talking to my family and kept looking at me. My roommates kept going over to see them but I got the most pats. Naa, naa, nanny, naa. Then they left.

A couple of sleeps later and here were those new humans again. They pet me and talked to me. I have no idea what they were saying but it sounded friendly. Hey! The van door is opened - I wonder what's in there. The little human kept calling my name. There's nothing too exciting in the van but we're going for a ride - that's fun. Weeeeee!

I like that little human. "Mimi" is her name. She tastes really good and I even tasted the inside of her mouth. I don't think she liked that. Mimi took me on a walk and kept throwing my stick for me. I like that. Then I played with my new ball. It didn't quite fit in my mouth so I pushed it along the floor until I could pick it up with my teeth. I got some treats, too.

Inside of her house I can run a circle and then another circle. I think they call that a figure eight. They even had a dish with food and water. They are so kind. When am I going home? Grrrr, that itches. So I licked my legs and my belly because it feels a little better with spit on it. Doesn't taste as good as the inside of Mimi's mouth, though. Or as good as treats.

I spent the night and slept in Mimi's bed. I like being under the covers so I use my nose to lift them and then I crawl all the way under and turn around to poke my head out. I tasted her face again. Yep. Still delicious. Makes me want a treat.

I woke up and had to potty. Mimi let me out and she threw the ball to me. We played fetch and more fetch. I like running after things and seeing how many times people will throw things to me. I also found a new girlfriend. She's a hot little lime green volleyball. I got in trouble for PDA inside the house. I really liked her and kept looking at her and the grown ups said she has to stay outside. I have another ball that's a beach ball and I like to keep it up in the air and not let it touch the ground. Sometimes the furniture gets in the way.

Then come the treats. Mmmm! Treats! Dang! I hate doin' the ballerina dance, it's for wusses. Mmmm! Treats! I don't wanna sit down, the floor's cold. Mmmm! Treats! What if I lie down, roll over, army crawl and bark all at once before you even ask me to? Just gimme the freakin' treat!

We went for a ride and a grown up took my picture while I had the one and only nap all day. Mimi would make a Jack Russell proud - she has so much energy. I wonder if she gets treats.

Name That Tune Monday - Answer

2009-06-08T14:47:00.003-06:00

The song was from that famous movie (that I've never seen) Xanadu. Olivia Newton John sings Magic, which was my favorite song in the eighth grade. Flea! You have won this week! I'm so excited to send you something. Just leave me your address and you will get a little goodie!

Name That Tune Monday

2009-06-08T10:00:00.002-06:00

This little song was a very big hit back in 1980. This time it's me sporting my new short do - not the best hair day but those have become rare. Name the song and the artist and claim a little pressie from me!

It's a Boy!

2009-06-05T20:15:00.002-06:00

This is the latest addition to the family, Copper. Isn't he a sweetheart? He even has freckles just like Mimi!

On the way to get Copper, Mimi asked, "Does Copper still have his ball?"

I started laughing and she repeated herself. Ali was in the car and she said, "What is she asking?"

"Just what it sounds like," I answered.

"No, really, Mom. Does he have his ball under him?" I'm laughing hysterically at this point and it totally reminds me of my cousin's story when my husband had to explain the difference between boys and girls to her little son. You can read about that in my comments from Mom to Elijah in June 2nd's entry "The Birds and the Bees and the Flowers and the Trees."

"Does she mean balls?" Ali asks in disgust, in which Mimi quickly says, "Ew." I guess she didn't know what she was asking. Maturation class isn't for another year and a half! She'll be in 4th grade at the start of school in the fall and that seems to be the crossing over of sweet and innocent to ....... wait! What happened?

He has a sweet little face and has taken to Mimi and even softened the heart (slightly) of her dog hating big sister. The owners only had him since November and had another Rat Terrier, too. Copper disappeared for about four weeks in which they thought he was gone forever and got a puppy to replace him. The puppy (Golden Retriever) and the other dog get along like peas in a pod and when Copper was returned (because he has a microchip) they had to give one up. Copper needed to be an only child - I mean dog - and so he was meant to be ours. I can't wait to see how well he gets along with the hamster! Mimi will spoil this dog to pieces and he will be well loved and I'm sure he'll love her back like only a dog can. Minus the bad habits of dogs with a ball.

Last Weekend's Animals

2009-06-05T08:41:00.009-06:00

We went to my friend's house to see her new baby goats. They were adorable. Mimi loves animals of just about any kind, but we are from suburbia, so she rarely gets to see anything other than a dog or cat. Because we are "semi-country suburbia" we see an occasional pheasant or dead skunk or dead raccoon.

So going to my friend's property with goats and horses was quite the treat. Mimi couldn't get over the smell but loved the animals anyway.

This was before she knew the difference between boy animals and girl animals - she just knew the mama goats were with the babies and the daddy goat was penned up outside the corral.

As she held one of the babies it cried for it's mama and the mama cried for it's baby. One set of babies was only a week old.

I had a picture of the horses too, but I just noticed it had to be cropped because someone found the fresh country air itchy and found the dairy air - or derriere to be too much. So no picts of horses this time.

The Birds and The Bees and the Dogs and the Trees

2009-06-02T21:34:00.005-06:00

I've been wanting a dog for Mimi since she is seven years younger than her next sister. She really loves animals and would love something that would love her back. Jared doesn't want a dog. I've been waiting for us to get a fence put in, but I realized that if I keep threatening to get a dog, our fence may never get put up. So, I'm sure if we get a dog, it will be built.

We almost had a dog this past weekend. I stopped by my friend Janine's to deliver a treat and after petting her dogs she told me she was trying to get rid of one of them. The two rat terriers weren't getting along. We talked for a long time about the dog so we thought we would do a trial. If they miss him too much or he doesn't work well for our family, we would leave it open and let him go back to Janine's.

Ruger rode in my van on the way home and was really scared. When we got home, I closed the garage door and let Ruger come out. He was too shy. Finally, I got him and put him on Mimi's lap and thought I would surprise Jared. Jared has been adamant about not getting a dog. He protested at first and then saw how sweet Mimi was with Ruger. Then he commented on what a great name Ruger was, after a gun. I didn't know that, I just thought it was a cute dog name.

Then Jared googled "rat terriers" and found out they like to hunt small animals and what they were bred for. He began liking Ruger a little more. Ruger kept following me in the house and I really needed to let him know he wasn't my dog, but Mimi's dog. He slept on Mimi's bed and when he heard the hamster run on the wheel, he perked right up. He was probably thinking, "So that's what fast food is all about."

I went to wake Mimi up for school the next morning and Ruger actually growled at me. Alas. He knows he's Mimi's dog and not mine. When I was at work I got a text from Janine and she said, "Scooter is looking everywhere for Ruger. He's checked all the hiding spots and slept in Ruger's spot. I think we need him back." I knew my Mimi would be broken hearted. So I called Jared and said, "Let her know we'll let her help pick out a dog this week from a shelter."

That helped her hold back the tears some. Then she asked if we were going to get a boy dog or a girl dog. I said I wasn't sure. She said, "How do you know if it's a boy or a girl? Do they have to do a test?" I really thought by age nine she would know about these things, but obviously not.

"I'll show you how to tell the difference when we go pick one out," I answered. We had to drop Ruger's papers off this afternoon and I thought this would be a good opportunity to show Mimi what a boy dog looks like. I let Janine do the honors.

She said, "Well, boy dogs have these," as she points to the ......."how technical do you want me to be?"

"Weenie," I answer.

"Weenie. And in the back there is a little bag that helps them to make puppies. That's how you know they are boys." Mimi remained quiet. I'm just glad she didn't ask any more questions about how puppies are made.

So, we had a loaner dog, a trial terrier, to practice pooch ownership. We will be dog owners by the weekend, I'm sure.

Name That Tune Monday - Answer

2009-06-01T12:31:00.002-06:00

Today's Name That Tune was "Just Call Me Angel" by Juice Newton. Do you think that could be a stage name? Diane wins this week!

Name That Tune Monday 4

2009-06-01T10:00:00.000-06:00

Name this tune and artist. Leave your answer in the comments - can't wait to hear your comments! This is my good friend Renae again who was so gracious to sing for Name That Tune Monday. I just wasn't "in voice" this week after having a minor surgical procedure in my throat. I've got some fun friends and fun songs lined up, so keep checking in on Mondays at 10:00 AM MST.

A Meme From Jodi (Beacon of Hope)

2009-05-29T16:18:00.000-06:00

Breakfast
What activities make you lose track of time? Playing on the computer (Facebook, Blogging, editing, etc.) or having a Girls' Night Out. Next thing you know it's 2:00 AM!
Lunch

What did you imagine yourself being the most when you were little? I used to play "school" a lot and thought I would be a teacher. I also wrote a newsletter for the neighbor kids with games and drawings of puppets I used to own. This would explain why I like writing.
Dinner

If you could jump into any book what would it be and why? I really enjoyed the book "The Doll People" by Ann M. Martin & Laura Godwin. I could see myself entering the doll world and getting into mischeif when the humans were asleep.
Midnight Snack
What is your favorite thing to fix for dinner? If doing the dishes wasn't an issue, I like cooking a dish called Homestead Chicken Pie. It's my family's favorite.
Recipe of the Week (instead of your recipe for life what is it just for the week?) My recipe for the week: For Memorial Day - remember those who have passed on, support our military and celebrate the living. We are blessed to live in a free country.

Twisted Toiletries

2009-05-26T19:02:00.002-06:00

This is one of the most stinkin' cutest gifts I have given. This was a Christmas present for my daughter, Ali who is 16. When I saw this in Nordstrom's, I loved the little bottle it came in. It's called Angel by Gwen Stefani. I smelled the perfume and all of her perfumes. They all had one not so subtle undertone in the scent in common. They all stunk, stank, stinketh! Yuck! But I figured if I didn't like it, Ali would. And she did. When I went downstairs to the teens' bathroom, I was in shock how clean it was. I liked how Ali had her perfume strategically placed in front of the make up brush and I just had to turn Lil' Angel slightly forward to avoid a profile.

This next photo is of the lotion I use, Victoria's Secret "Amber Romance." This is the gel my husband uses called "Got2b glued." Many a time I have almost used his gel as lotion. Their bottles are almost identical. As I told him about that, instead of him complaining that my stuff is on his side of the two sink vanity, he tells me he has almost used my lotion for gel and that he will start putting his gel away. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY HUSBAND? Maybe this was just his way of telling me to put my stuff away, too. Pinky the rubber duck doesn't care as long as she gets her picture taken.

This last picture of toiletries is the most baffling. Do I treat zits or wrinkles?

Name that Tune Monday Answer

2009-05-25T20:00:00.000-06:00

Name that Tune Monday - James' Jingle

2009-05-25T10:00:00.002-06:00

James is the next performer.....the husband of Renae from last week. He is the one who started all this karaoke singing business and sold us the piano responsible. Thanks for all the fun you've added to our lives - not to mention what has inspired my Ali to sing! Name the tune - and yes, I've distorted the song title again. So fun!

File Moniter

2009-05-24T16:42:00.005-06:00

That was as good as I could get with my job. I was trying to think of some name to glorify what I do. I bought Mall Cop this weekend so my eight year old could watch it when her friend slept over. I watched it with them and I really don't know what was funnier.......the movie or the forced laughter from the girls at the really stupid parts. They almost died laughing at the segway video the grandma posted on the computer. I didn't think it was that funny, but Mimi kept rewinding the DVD. Then at the parts I laughed at - the girls remained silent for a few seconds and must have thought, "Oh. We better laugh so it looks like we got it," followed by more forced laughter.

When is forced laughter a good thing? When it's your young one practising their sense of humor out and you really want to encourage it. When is it a bad thing? When it's your husband and it just wasn't that funny and you want to discourage it.

Friday at work I brought up to the three other secretaries I work with, "You know how we come in and all day long we're sayin', 'I'm sooo tired. I have nooo energy.' What if we come in and say the opposite? What if we said, 'I have soooo much energy! I can hardly sit still! I should have a trampoline pad for my chair seat because I just can't stay in my seat."' Maybe that would take effect on us. So during the day I would say loudly and enthusiastically, "I have so much energy!" Then around 3:00 I announced with a voice as slow as Ben Stein's and my eyes half closed, "I have sooo much energy. I don't know what to do with myself." I'm going to keep working on that one.

Forced funniness, affirmed energy, what else do we need to convince ourselves of? "I love having PMS, it defines who I really am." WHATEVER. Any favorite affirmations from you?

P.S. I had another phone call dream.....the anxiety build up before the call but it had a happy ending. Dreams can be so liberating.

You Thought Duct Tape Was Handy

2009-05-21T21:35:00.003-06:00

How many of you have husbands that you have to beg to do things around the house? This was a problem at my house......more than I'm willing to elaborate on. One day, my husband came home from work in a bad mood and was mad the house was untidy. He was ranting and raving and started vacuuming the floor. I'm not complaining that he was vacuuming the floor, just that he was running over anything and everything that happened to be on the floor.

Of course, this changed the mood of everyone in the household, including mellow little me. (Ha!) I went to my room and closed the door, smoke coming out of my ears. I thought, "There's things I've asked to get done that haven't been done." The one thing that came to mind is hanging the curtains in our bedroom. I don't have the hand strength to operate a drill, so I had to depend on him to do the job.

"Well, if he's going to be all ornery about vacuuming because he had to do it, then I'm going to hang my own dang curtains," I thought. I'm not quite sure those were the exact words I was thinking.

So, I put the curtains in my fancy curtain rod and got the staple gun and stapled along the bottom of the rod. From a distance it looked quite nice. My husband didn't notice until the next day that I took care of one thing on the "Honey Do" list. He was quite impressed......at first. Later he decided to do the job right minus the staples. "Git 'er done" is a great motto.

Almost Famous

2009-05-18T10:00:00.002-06:00

Everyone, meet Renae. Renae, this is everyone. Renae has been a friend of mine for about 11 years. We have watched our kids grow up since before kindergarten. Renae has a very gifted voice and I'm glad she will let me be her back up singer. This is one of our friends' favorites for us to sing together. Unfortunately, the audio on my camera and/or computer doesn't allow things to sound as rich as they should, but use your imagination and guess the title and artist of this song. You made need the luck of the Irish.

Weird Wednesday

2009-05-13T00:02:00.002-06:00

Frantic Phone Calls

I had some weird dreams this week, involving phones. The first one was: I made a phone call to someone who I've had "tensions" with. The person who answered the phone in my dream thought it was important that I tell my story to the person involved. They called the other person to the phone and I was afraid they wouldn't accept my phone call at all. When they answered I started, "You've only heard one side of the story, I think that it's important that you hear my side of the story, too." Amongst my story I had to deliver some upsetting news (that is equal to a Greek tragedy). It was weird that my subconscious thoughts were played out in a dream. Of course, in my dream my news was accepted without further tensions.

The second dream involving a frantic phone call was more stressful. There was a small girl hanging high in some power lines. People were trying to get a ladder up but they couldn't reach her. I yelled, "Has anyone called 911?" No one had. I ran around the neighborhood frantically looking for a phone to call 911. The first phone ended up being an old cell phone that was now a child's toy. The second phone told me I mis-dialed the number. Then I got a wrong number. Meanwhile, a child's life was at stake and the clock was ticking. I don't know what this dream was about. Any interpreters out there?

Beauty and The Beast

2009-05-12T00:01:00.002-06:00

Wuntsa ponna time, there was a beautiful girl named Beauty. Somehow, it was an effort for her to live up to the name. She had to get her hair colored every other month, which cost a small fortune. She had to watch what she ate so they wouldn't call her "Beauty and the Feast." She bought mascara in bulk and and owned stock in lipstick companies. Finally, she had to hire a personal trainer, which was another small fortune.

They called her personal trainer "The Beast." Beauty showed up at his gym early in the morning. Personally, I think mornings are horrible and have a strange allergy to them, but some people like them. The Beast never goes to bed.

"Good morning, Beastie Boy," said Beauty, as enthusiastically as she could.

"If you're talking, you're not working hard enough," said The Beast.

"But my session hasn't formally started yet, Beast," she answered.

"Doesn't matter! Quiet! Or I will keep you in this gym forever," he shouted. A horrible fate that would be, so she shut right up.

She ran on the treadmill. She did crunches. She did leg lifts. She bench pressed her body weight. She rowed into the next city and spinned until the dust turned into gold. Her abs, gluts, lats, and quads were burning. She was trapped. She couldn't muster the strength to crawl out of the gym. She was his prisoner. "Please, Beast. Let me free," she begged.

"Only if you promise to return," he answered in his raspy voice.

"I give you my word." She finally returned home. The next day she forgot about The Beast except for her aching muscles. She forgot about him until she had a dream about him and the squats he made her do because he cared for her. She awakened from her dream in a sweat and realized it was just a leg cramp causing her to have the strange dreams.

She thought of living up to the name of Beauty. "I can't stop now," she thought. "It's like having the name Joy and being full of melancholy. It's like being named Lucky and having no luck. It's like being named Angel and being sinful. I need The Beast now more than ever."

She returned to the gym prepared to give her soul to The Beast. He was happy for her return and said, "A wicked witch put a curse on me and I'm not really a beast, but a really nice guy. I like cheesecake, too." This sealed the deal and they were married and lived happily ever after in moderation.

Name That Tune Monday Answer

2009-05-11T12:02:00.003-06:00

Blondie AKA Debbie Harry singing "Sunday Girl" who needs to hurry up and wait. Mom to Elijah guessed half of the answer but I will send a full prize to you, since it was a hard one, so send me your address!