Memories...misty, water-colored memories

Favorite Christmas Memories:

-Going to my aunt and uncle's house to have gumbo and family Christmas on Christmas Eve every year. And my grandfather always gave all the grandkids $20...but that ended when you turned 18. Seriously...he was all "I survived the Great Depression and you've gotten your $20 for 18 years now...go get a job lazy-ass". Not really, but that's totally what I would think if I were him.

-Every year on Christmas Eve, my sister and I slept in the same bed so we could get up at the same time to see our stuff from Santa. And this tradition continued well into our late teens...possibly even when I was still in college. I know you're thinking it's all sweet and sisterly, but I really don't know what the hell she was thinking...I sleep like a fucking kung-fu ninja. Yeah. I probably beat the shit out of every Christmas Eve. Like on family vacays, we got a roll-away just for me....it's gotten better, but my husband and I have a king-sized bed, so I probably just can't reach him to kick his ass at night.

-The year my cousin worked at a drugstore in town and had to work Christmas Eve, so we walked over to it to visit him with plates of food and his gifts singing Christmas carols all the way there. And it just now occurs to me that, had the cops driven by, many of the adults could have been cited for PI. (and if you don't know what "PI" means, I'm not sure why we're friends)

-The Christmas my uncle was Santa and got a little tipsy (okay, maybe more than a little)--Santa was very "huggy" that year when everyone sat on his lap. Then he convinced my older sister and I to sit on his lap...and got a little "huggy" with us. Bad Santa, bad!

-The Christmas after my parents got divorced, my mom and I went with our best friends (who also happen to be mother/daughter) snow skiing in Taos, New Mexico. No one had told us 1. How to buckle ski boots 2. That we would even need ski boots 3. That Taos is pretty much for black diamond skiers 4. That snow skiing is flippin' HARD! We drank alot of vodka martinis in the ski lodge. We also went to see some psychics that New Year's Eve and they told my friend's mom that one of her children was "sensitive" and then they told my friend that she was "sensitive"....so we are totally convinced that she's a psychic because it was two separate women who made the same prediction. (Yes, there was plenty of red wine involved.) But they also told me they saw lots of money in my future, and that hasn't happened so they probably weren't all that "on target".

-Last Christmas...and I don't really know why, because my husband had just gotten laid off and we were involved in some ex-wife drama. But in the midst of it all, we had each other and two beautiful, healthy children. I remember putting out the Santa stuff for the kids in the early morning light in our living room with the Christmas tree lit up and thinking "I should've gotten them each a couple more things". Then, I looked at the husband and he winked at me...he winked! And gave me his little shit-eating grin that I'm sure got him out of lots of trouble in school....and all was right with the world.

All sarcasm and cynicism aside (for now), enjoy the holidays, thank whoever you pray to for everything and everyone that you are blessed with, and collect happy memories....those are the true gifts and will outlast any THING you receive.

Christmas Shopping: Driving Normal People Insane Since Jesus' Birth

So I'm done with the Christmas shopping....finally.

I count myself lucky that I survived the shopping area of town without A. Killing the old man who totally cut me off in the parking lot, B. Shooting the bird at said old man or C. Strangling the chicks in Wal-Mart who parked two carts in the middle of the Barbie aisle and then proceeded to debate the merits of Mermaid Barbie vs. Malibu Barbie.

And yes, I went to Wal-Mart and Target.....my goal of totally avoiding the mall was reached! You'd just have to be flippin insane to go to the mall 4 days before Christmas....like, "Heeere's Johnny!" insane.

But the list is complete....everyone has an appropriate and thoughtful gift. And I spent agonizing minutes convincing myself that the person is totally going to love it because it was, in fact, the perfect gift for him/her.

Okay, not really, but they have something to open, okay? So quit bitching.

And I'll have you know that I only re-gifted one thing this year...and it was for the family White Elephant thingy, so that really doesn't even count.

Now, it's time to wrap, which is totally my favorite part. I'm the one who always gives kids the gifts tied with the curly ribbon that requires a knife to cut off because it was obviously invented at NASA and can withstand stretching up to 400 yards. Bag of bows?? Not at this taco stand. And I tape the shit out of the boxes, too.

Unwrapping my gifts requires tools and shit.

When I'm an Old Lady, I Shall Wear a Black Leather Motorcycle Jacket and Combat Boots

So last night I ventured out from my normal evening routine of alcohol, facebook, mindless TV and pajamas and went to bunco. If you don't know, "bunco" is a game involving dice. For some reason, it's only played by women...I don't know why, exactly, but guys just don't play it. Except maybe gay guys....but I've never heard of a gay guy's bunco group, so I was probably just being totally stereotypical.

ANYway....so we were chatting and playing bunco and all was right with the world because our children and husbands were far, far away....and somehow we got on the subject of getting old.

I guess because we all are.

Which is kinda bullshit, but must happen, because the alternative is being, you know, dead.

So I made the point that I cannot wait to get old...seriously. I can't. And all the women there were like, "Oh no! I never want to get old! I'll just stay in my 30s forever! blah, blah, blah (they totally could have said something else, but I kinda quit listening).

The point is: I can't wait to be retired and old.

No, I'm not looking forward to wrinkles and aches and pains and all that crap...I'm looking forward to elastic waistbands, bingo, bars in the middle of the day and the kids moving out of the house! Not to mention, you're RETIRED! You don't have to work every day...we could totally make happy hour by 2:00, Luby's for dinner at 5:00 and home, passed out in bed by 7:30....PERFECTION! Or sometimes, we could change it up a bit and have lunch and drinks before bingo at 2:00, Luby's at 5:00 and in bed by 7:30. Either way--win/win in my book. Plus, (and this is really the best part) when you're old, you get to say whatever the hell is on your mind and people just let it go! Really! You can just lay it out there....and because your family was taught to respect their elders, even if they're a little crazy, they'll totally just let it ride.

Like when we're at Christmas dinner and the son brings his wife over, I'll be all (whispering, but really loud, like old people do sometimes so you can totally still hear what they're saying, but they don't think you can) "Ronnie, did you see what your son's wife is wearing at Christmas dinner?? She looks like Santa's little hooker! Who the fuck told her that was appropriate or attractive?!?"

And no one will say anything...

They'll all just keep on eating and pretend like crazy old mama didn't just say "hooker" or "fuck" at the dinner table. And all the little kids will be like, "Grandma, what's a hooker?" and I'll say, "A woman who has sex with strangers for money and basically lacks self-esteem, so makes up for it by giving really good head. But you don't want to be one, so work hard, save your money and go to college" and the kids will be all "Yes Grandma...can we go google hooker on your computer?" and I'll say "Sure kids, that's how we learned stuff in my day! Googling! But if you see a picture of your aunt, call me, because I'll want to check that shit out!"

*sigh*

I can't wait....

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday....a new thing. Let me know if it sucks....and I probably won't change it, but hey, you did your part by letting me know, right?







No words needed.

'Tis the Season for Re-Gifting (and you know you do it, don't lie)

It's gift-giving season.

And I'm just totally not into it this year.

So everyone should just probably prepare themselves to get really crappy, generic gifts this year. Seriously...like pajamas, picture frames, coffee mugs and Chicken Soup for the Soul books. That's it. There's my list.

Man, those are some sucky gifts, huh??

I'm usually a really good gift-giver...like, totally thoughtful and stuff. I've planned Christmas gifts 6 months in advance before....in fact, I can't think of a single time when I've given a bad gift. (Mind you, I've received a few in my day.)

There are "bad" gifts....and then there are those gifts that just make you say, "WTF?". I just read this Redbook list of the Worst Teacher Gifts. Some of my favorites?? Fishnet stockings and a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret (not necessarily in the same gift...although that just makes it weirder).

Yes, really.

Some kid's SINGLE FATHER bought the teacher a gift certificate to Victoria's Secret.

And then some other kid's parents bought the teacher a pair of fishnet stockings.

See? "WTF?"

I mean, what does that say about you as a teacher...really? "You're great with my kid and I'd bet you look great in lingerie"? Or "You have changed my child's life, now change into these fishnet stockings"? Or "I'd love to see your "gifts" in these"? Or maybe, "You're a total slut and I'd love to act out my good-teacher/naughty-student fantasy with you"?

Think he put his phone number in there with them?? Freakshow.

I'd be pissed, that's all I know. Where are my baked goods, you sick bastard??

And I bet the teachers re-gifted them....I totally would have.

Gives new meaning to "Don't use the good towels, they're for the guests"

I'm giving you fair warning...my post today is totally going to be "over-sharing". Really.

So if you're like easily offended or would rather not think about people you know having sex, then stop reading.

Seriously....

STOP.

Okay, so now for all you sickos out there who kept on reading (and really, you're the fun ones...just don't tell all the people who aren't reading anymore! heeheehee), let me tell you a little about how my day started.

It began as most Fridays do...with a little "Friday fun time" for me and the husband (even though he was totally an asshole over the Christmas tree thing--hey, what can I say, my defenses are down before coffee). Anyway, so that's all well and good...even though I hate morning sex. I know, I know....most people love it. Me? Not so much--I spend most of the time thinking about how I need to brush my teeth and wondering if I have morning breath.

But I digress....

Okay, so everything's done and I head to the bathroom to get showered and ready for the day. My husband walks in behind me to...*ahem*...how to say this fairly delicately?? Um....how about this: "clean the man parts". Which he proceeds to do using disposable tissue. No problem, right? Ooooh...just wait. So after he uses the disposable stuff, he apparently decides that the man parts just aren't clean enough and proceeds to USE THE WASHCLOTH ON THE EDGE OF THE TUB!

Yes, he totally did.

He totally wiped his man funk on the washcloth I use to clean my body with!!!! Not to mention--MY FACE!!!

What. The. Fuck. Dude.

I was all, "What the hell are you doing? Did you just wipe man funk on the washcloth I was going to use to SHOWER with??" and he was all "Oh, yeah....I guess I did" and I was like, "GUESS?!?! You GUESS?!?! I just totally watched you do it asshole!!!" and he was like, "Okay, jeez...chill out, I'll get you another one"

"Chill out?? Really?? That's your advice here?? Chill out. Okay, sure no problem...and when I have jizz on my face at work, with children and their parents, I'll just tell them to CHILL OUT!"

Oh. My. God.

I wonder what else he's used to "clean up"?

*retch*

I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Why can't "pre-lit" trees come "pre-decorated", too?

FINALLY!

We (and I use the term "we" very loosely, because it was pretty much "me") finally got the damn Christmas tree up last night. Seriously, I had to plan my whole day around getting home in time to put up the stupid thing.

I know, I know, sounds very "bah-humbug", huh? But I swear, I'm not. I usually LOVE putting up my Christmas stuff. This year, it's just wet and cold and I haven't had a weekend at home to spend all day cleaning and getting it all out. That's just how me and Christmas decorating like to roll.

But whatevs--it's DONE!

AND my logic prevailed and we put up the fake, pre-lit tree instead of paying a shit-ton of money to buy a real one that would be dead and shedding pine needles all over my living room by Christmas.

But the fake tree does come with its own set of issues. Putting that thing up often requires an advanced engineering degree from MIT. Really. I mean, it comes in like 87 pieces that used to be labeled to tell you how to put it together, but given the fact that in the off-season the tree lives in the outdoor shed, the labels have disintegrated. Plus you have to plug each section's lights into one another and ultimately end up with a plug left for the wall outlet--which is like the electronic version of chemistry, which I learned from a teacher who drank vodka out of a coke can--so, not my strongest subject in school, right?

So what did I do?

I winged it, of course....and with a minimal amount of cussing.

And you know what? The thing stood up straight, fit together right, and all the lights came on when I plugged it in!! YES! Score one for the girls' team!

Well, all the lights except those in the star. But I figured, what the hell? We can just have an un-lit star this year.

So when the husband came home, I was all "Check it out dude! Didn't I do a great job?!" and he was all "Yeah, babe looks great! Well....except for the star." and then I was all "It's okay...it doesn't have to be lit." and he was all "Um, yeah it does. Or it looks stupid".

Asshole.

And he then proceeds to "fix" the plugging in of the lights on the tree--which included the use of a FLASHLIGHT, PLIERS and BLUEPRINTS. (Okay, not really, but still....). And apparently required him to TOTALLY UNDO EVERYTHING I HAD ALREADY DONE!

And the damn star lit up.

I hate him.

Laissez les Bon Temps Roulez! Let the Good Times Roll!

The best invention EVER?!?!

The drive-thru daiquiri factory.

Except we don't have them here in Texas....communists.

But I went to one multiple times...I mean, once...this weekend. Yep, you guessed it, I ventured out from the dry-county, no-smoking-in-public-places, "I-pulled-you over-because-three-people-in-a-car-is-suspicious" world that is central Texas and headed to Louisiana. My roots, my motherland....

And I totally realized that my entire extended family is crazy, not just us. Seriously....CRAZY! Like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, but with dudes and more alcohol.

For some reason, Texas "crazy" just ain't the same as deep South "crazy"....it's like a phenomenon that should be studied by like National Geographic or some shit. And I don't mean certifiably "crazy" like "I-hear-voices-and-they're-telling-me-that-I'm-Elvis-Presley-reincarnated-and-I-need-to-make-a-sequin-suit-out-of-your-skin" crazy (ewww--I just totally grossed myself out with that). I mean, just kind of your general run-of-the-mill, fun crazy people.

Like in my family, we have at least 50 people at every function. Really. Like, your dog just peed outside for the first time in his 12-week long life?? 50 people show up with beer to celebrate.

And that's another thing...there's always alcohol. It's totally cool to have a baby shower (with the required 50 people) and serve Bloody Marys and Mimosas--even though the "guest of honor" can't drink. "Sucks to be her" is the general consensus.

And then there's the fact that, even if you are as far north as you can get in Louisiana without being in Arkansas and you're in a bar, there's a damn good chance somebody's handing out Mardi Gras beads. And usually, you don't even have to show your tits.....usually. There's generally not even a clear reason as to why this person is handing out beads. But you take them....and wear them....and try to convince everyone the rest of the night that you did not show your tits to get them....and they don't believe you.

And everywhere you go, even a small-town Christmas festival with your family, there's music and dancing. Seriously. In Louisiana, you don't even need a band--turn up the car radio and stop in the middle of the road. Hey, I've seen it happen. And EVERYONE dances...I honestly witnessed a 7th grade girl dancing with her mom to the Cupid Shuffle this weekend. And she wasn't even embarrassed (the girl, not her mom....her mom is my cousin and a total hottie, so she needs to out there shakin' her thang!) (Yes, I really just said "thang.). But yeah, the kid was totally dancing with her mom and not wanting to crawl under the table to hide from embarrassment.

*sigh*

Louisiana....such fun, such debauchery, such a killer hangover on Monday.....

In Vegas, the night of Thanksgiving it like magically turns into Christmas overnight. My house? Not so much.

I know, I know....it's been a while. But if you follow me on Facebook (and again, who of you doesn't??), you'll know that I have been unable to type due to being extremely FULL. Seriously, I couldn't even make my fat little fingers type on the keyboard....dude....that is full.

So to catch you up:

1. Thanksgiving rocked--and my sister and I totally made my mom's dressing by ourselves. When she dies, we got dressing covered.

2. We hunted.....ALOT. And I shot a big ol' wild hog. And if you're Southern, you know that things aren't truly BIG unless the word "ol'" follows them.

3. We drank.....MORE. I don't think my liver or my stomach could have handled anymore Thanksgiving.

4. We have NO freakin' Christmas decorations up....I know...."slacker city" at our house, right?? After all of our Thanksgiving "togetherness", I wasn't sure that my husband and I were up to subjecting our marriage to the stress that is 'holiday decorating'.

Sidebar: I'm drinking wine while writing this post (duh...) and the kid just came up, noticed my glass was empty and goes, "Can I pour you some more wine, Mommy?". Um yeah, she's obviously a GENIUS! I am the best mother ever. Seriously....People magazine will be calling to interview me any day now. Me, Kate Gosselin and the Octo-Mom--this year's Mother's Day issue...hitting a newstand near you in May!

Okay, now what was I talking about??

Oh, right, marital discord and holiday decorating....it's a fond memory of my childhood. My dad would buy an 87 foot tree for our living room that had 14 foot ceilings and then my mom would bitch because it was scraping the ceiling and we had to have 400 yards of lights to go around it and she couldn't reach around to grab them and then after stringing them it wasn't in the stand straight and it needed water and then my dad's devil cat would try to climb in it and everyone would yell at him and then....after 2-3 hours of griping, the kids finally got to help put on the decorations.

And all the while? Alvin and the Chipmunks were singing their Christmas album because it was TOTALLY my favorite! Awww yeah!!! "Christmas, Christmas time is here. Time for fun, and time for cheer" Go Alvin, it's Christmas, Go Simon, it's Christmas, Go Theodore, it's Christmas!!! Jump, jump...

*ahem*...sorry....love the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas album.

Anyway, there's always all the decisions to make...the tree: real vs. fake, are we putting lights outside and if so, what are they going to look like?, how much of this other crap do we really want to put out since we're going to other people's houses for the holidays?....etc, etc, etc.

Meh....doesn't sound festive to me....soooo I have come up with a solution!

Christmas Decorations Challenge: make the coolest decorations you can with lights, light-up yard deer, empty beer cans, empty wine bottles and empty shotgun/rifle shells.

Now THAT sounds festive!

Watch out People magazine, HGTV may want dibs!

Top-Ten Things I am Thankful For

I'm going a little Letterman on y'all and bustin' out the top ten list. Too bad I don't have anybody cool to read it to you.

Here goes:

10. Birth Control--especially the kind I take with a little "happy pill" ingredient to make me less bitchy. It totally works, except when it doesn't and I'm a total bitch...but whatevs.

9. Cars/Trucks--I have this whole weird thing about always wanting to drive so I'll have my own vehicle. If I lived in some Middle Eastern country where women weren't allowed to drive, I'd freak the fuck out. Guess if the shit goes down, I'll always have the getaway car, so I can be sure I'm not arrested or whatever. No, mom, that's never happened, I swear.

8. Cell Phones/Text Messaging--I am now a spoiled tech-age child. I'm used to instant gratification if I need to tell you something or get in touch with you somehow. People who have a cell phone and a) never carry it or b) have it off or on silent/vibrate all the time DRIVE ME INSANE!

7. Lucky Jeans--Every woman should own at least one pair of jeans that makes her ass look phenomenal. And these are my jeans. Seriously....phenom----wait for it----enal.

6. The Country--Because if I lived in the city with neighbors who were like constantly spying on me and judging me for driving a diesel truck that wakes them up in the mornings when I start it or drinking beer on my front porch at 11:00 am or the fact that my husband really likes to pee outside, I'D GO BAT-SHIT CRAZY!!!

5. Dogs--And horses....and really anything that's fuzzy and cuddly. Except for cats, of course....because they're totally from the devil.

4. Books--Mainly because the movie in my head as I'm reading is always WAAAY better than the actual movie translation. I'm a voracious reader....that's where I get the mad vocabulary skillz, yo!

3. Beer--And wine, and vodka, and pretty much most alcohol (except whiskey) because it's just fun. As a wise woman once said, "Some people say they don't need alcohol to have fun, but why start a fire with sticks when they've invented the lighter?". Need I say more? I think not.

2. The Fam--Yes, I do have a cheesy softy side that loves my family and my husband....so I'm not cynical about everything...sue me. But I'm one of the lucky ones who lives fairly close to my family, gets together with them regularly and actually enjoys hanging out with them....most of the time. No, but seriously, they're cool. Other people even like hanging out with my family. And I'm lucky to not have serious marriage drama with my husband....we actually like each other. Weird, huh?

And the number one thing I am thankful for.....DRUM ROLL PLEASE....

1. The Kid--I am worried that I cloned myself, but she's irresistible, says the funniest stuff and I love her tremendously. She is the light in my heart on even my darkest day.

Happy Turkey Day! Drink one for me! ~NTS

Random Nation

I almost totally named my whole blog this, but I couldn't find as cool of a picture as the Note to Self one that led everyone to believe that I was a total hottie, so I didn't.

Anyway, so this post will be totally random. There will be no introduction paragraph stating three points I will make, nor will there be a body or a conclusion. Wait--guess it's not that different from all the other posts, is it?

I can guarantee there will be lots of these "..." because I totally tend to over-use those. I'm not sure why, either except that they represent the way my writing sounds in my head....like I just paused right back there to think about how I was going to word the rest of the sentence.

Anyway, Randomness in all its glory... (see, I just paused again)

-I should really be doing lots of work right now because my school is out all next week and I won't be in my office AT ALL. And I'm procrastinating completely by writing a blog post rather than a report. The biggest problem of all?? I'm not sure I really care much.

-Last night, I encouraged the husband to read the blog (read: "forced him to read it because OMG I'm just so damn funny, aren't I? And you're so lucky to be married to the witty wonder of nature that is me!"). When he clicked on it, the Google ad on the right at the very top said "Pentecostal Singles--meet local Pentecostal singles in your area." Is this really the type of crowd that just read my Dora rant?? shit....

-Yesterday, the husband brought home an 18 pack of beer so we "would have some left over for the weekend". Amateur.

-Sometimes when the phone rings in the office next door to mine, I pick up my phone just to be sure it's not mine. OCD much?

-I'm absolutely convinced that my dogs talk about what an idiot I am behind my back. Really. They sit in their pens all day and act like they're all stupid, but they're really plotting ways to take over the house and keep the humans in the pens. Dually may not be bright, but he's got brawn. I think Sasha's the planner in their eventual "Braveheart bid for freedom"...she's got those shifty eyes.

-When I get totally convinced that my life sucks soooo bad and things will never get any better, something like this happens. http://aiminglow.com/ And it really makes me think that I just need to shut the hell up, quit whining and be thankful for what I got.

Happy Thanksgiving all! Be thankful and enjoy your loved ones this holiday!

If there's a place you need to go, I'm the one you need to know, I'm the map!

Fucking Dora the Explorer.

I mean, even the kid is annoyed by it.

Dora's all: "To get to my house, we need to go through the jungle, over the river and past the castle. Do you see the jungle?"

DRAMATIC PAUSE
DRAMATIC PAUSE
DRAMATIC PAUSE

Then I hear my 5-year-old: "Yes! It's right there!"......"I said, it's right there!"....."Look over there Dora!! UGH! Don't you see it over there??"

And Dora's all: "Right! You found the jungle!"

And my kid's all: "No shit, sherlock."

Except she doesn't really say that, because then I'd have to beat her. No, I don't really beat her, but I would have to give her some sort of consequence for saying "shit" like washing her mouth out with soap.

But she LOVES the Dora...and the Blue's Clues. And I'm so ready for her to outgrow these "interactive TV shows" that are supposed to be so "educational" and just get sucked into the mind-numbing awesomeness that is the Disney channel. I mean, really?? When does that happen?? I'll watch me some Hannah Montana or Suite Life of Zack and Cody all damn day!!!

I mean, I didn't have "preschool on TV" and I turned out okay...I'm well-educated, I have a job...I know when i comes before e and who discovered America and what the quadratic equation solves (okay, not really, but come on--who does??). And all I had was Sesame Street--which I freakin' LOVED!! I was like the old lady who loves Days of our Lives, but with Sesame Street: "MOM! Stop talking so loud, my stories is on!". And I swear, I don't remember it being as annoying as Dora and Blues Clues....in fact, I think it was MORE educational.

You know, like, Bert and Ernie's obviously "less-than-platonic" living arrangement (was it just me, or was one of them always in the tub/shower??). Or the fact that Cookie Monster was always hungry for chocolate chip cookies (reminds me of this dude I knew in college)? Or even Mr. No-it's-not-OCD-I-just-really-like-to-count-stuff Count (my first introduction to mental health issues)??

See...we sooo learned waaay more from Sesame Street.

Happy 40th!

Commitment Issues

I have them.


Really.

I have a hard time staying committed to things....mostly because, well, being committed to things is a shit-ton of hard work.

Not like my husband or anything--nothing that major. Just the general, every-day type commitments that people make.

Like exercising....meh....what if I don't feel like it?

Or sports teams...."You mean we have to watch football?? But I'm facebooking!"

Or washing my hair...luckily I was blessed with non-greasy hair that can make it 3 days before looking like "homeless chic".


Or even friendships with some people. In fact, I think I'm downright rude to some people at work because I just don't have the time or energy to have another friend....really, I don't. I'm sure they're very nice and we could possibly talk at length about all kids of wonderful topics like puppies, sunshine and rainbows, but....basically, I don't want to work that hard.

I feel like putting up a sign:









Like, "Plenty of friends here, thanks!".

That is so bitchy.

I know....but being a good friend takes WORK, people! And you need to consider the level of commitment a new friend might require. I have conveniently given you some guidelines from which to work:

1. "The Drama Queen": Does this person always have lots of shit going on in her life that she then dumps on whoever gets stuck in the copy room with her, leading to 45 minutes of "Oh man that really sucks! Well hope that works out" repeated over and over as you try to get your foot out of the door, while totally forgetting your copies??? BAD FRIEND MATERIAL.

2. "The Stalker": That girl at work who randomly shows up in the exact same outfit you wore the day before and constantly watches you out of the corner of your eye and has taken to saying things like, "Man, I wish I was as smart as you, your husband is soooo hot and your kids are so cute, you really sound like you have the perfect life"? BAD FRIEND MATERIAL (and the possibility of lots of legal issues and paperwork--more commitment).

3. "The Mooch": The teacher across the hall that always conveniently mentions she is soooo thirsty but never carries cash so has no money for the vending machine, but when you offer her some change, she grabs it faster than you can say "Diet Dr. Pepper"?? BAD FRIEND MATERIAL

4. "The Party Girl": The girl you meet out for drinks after work who gets totally slammed in the span of all of about 30 minutes and then insists on yelling things like, "And you know Mr. Smith the band director is gay, right?" or "See this girl at the table next to us? She keeps staring at me and I'm about to knock her the fuck out!" causing you to have to call your husband to get your kids and get home late for dinner because you had to drive her drunk ass home? BAD FRIEND MATERIAL

You all just totally mentally sorted all of your friends/acquaintances/co-workers into "BAD FRIEND" and "GOOD FRIEND".

My work here is done.

Oh--and before you ask, no, you're not any of those types of friends. Really. I swear. Or we wouldn't be friends, remember? I have commitment issues.

This is not a food blog, per se, but I'm a big fan of food

Sidebar: How French-coffee-house-beret-wearing-killer-heels-having-but-I-can-totally-walk-in-them-without-tripping COOL do you feel when you use the word "per se"?!?! Holy Lord! I just feel like I should go all "European" when I get to use that word...but I would never be a good European because I like to shower regularly....and shave.....

Sorry if you're European and you DO happen to shower and shave--in which case, I was totally not referring to you.

Anyway.

I LOVE this website!!!

http://www.supercook.com/#

You can go to it and enter whatever you happen to have in your kitchen and it gives you a recipe that you can then print and take home and cook for dinner THAT VERY NIGHT!!!!

I know.....awesome, right??

So here's what I entered:
applesauce, beer, cereal, ham, ketchup, pasta, tortilla chips, milk

(Yes, those are all things that I have in my kitchen RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND)

Oh damn...never mind....I drank all the beer last night.....

Hang on

Okay, so even when I take the beer out, here's what I get:

This is just a kids favourite, you never really see this often, but it is great, trust me on this one
SERVES 2

Ingredients
-1 lb spaghetti
-ketchup

Directions
1. cook spaghetti as instructed on the packet.
2. when you come to serve, put on as much ketchup as you desire, it has a really unique taste to it.

I know! Isn't that totally AWE....wait.....re-reading......

WHAT!?!?!

And did anyone else notice that the directions NEVER told you to put the ketchup on the SPAGHETTI!?!? So you just put it on....what, exactly?? Yourself?? Your husband?? The dog??

"Unique taste"....that's just wrong, man.

You know those free gifts you get when you purchase make-up products in department stores? Yeah...I never get those.

I am not a fan of makeup.

There...I said it. And if you know me, this is really no surprise.

If you read my full profile (and really, who of you out there hasn't?), you'll see that I'm not a fan.

And, what's really weird about that is I am a child of the blue-eyeshadow, hot-pink-blush, whore-red-lipstick 80s...with a little early 90s black-eyeliner-and-maroon-lipstick-tackiness thrown in for good measure. STILL...not my scene.

My opinion on the whole thing could get very political and soapbox-ish with regards to the fact that I think it's totally unfair that men don't have to paint their faces to highlight the good and cover up the bad in order for society to find them "attractive" or "beautiful", but women must.

Sidebar: The same could be said for having a beer gut....is being a female beer-drinker really so bad??!?! Come on, I'm not totally unfortunate looking and I happen to have a little "insulation" 'round the middle from my friends "Bud" and "Lite"....is that really such a big deal?!?! Do you see those "This is a gas tank for my love machine" T-shirts for women ever???? Don't think sooo! (Not that I would ever wear one, but it's the principle of the matter)

Mostly though, my opinion has more to do with the fact that makeup just feels icky on my face. Yep, you heard me--ICKY. You have the whole "caked on" feeling from foundation and powder and then all the other crap you have to put on your eyes, which makes them itchy and watery sometimes...not to mention the fact that lipstick feels icky AND tastes weird.

I'm afraid that my mom may have made a believer out of me this weekend.

Damn, I hate it when she's right.

She gave me her whole Bare Minerals kit because she didn't really care for it.

Me?!!?

OMG!!!

I'm in love!

So if any of you are reps or dealers for Bare Minerals and feel like I totally just gave you free advertising on my read-all-around-the-world (or at least the South) blog....you can send me my free gifts/samples anytime now.

Oh, and you're welcome.

What I get for being a Halloween candy thief

So I'm all set to enjoy the chocolate-y, minty, marshmallow-y goodness that is a York Peppermint Patty, when I open it up and see this:

Yeah....

Gross.....

Since when is mint/marshmallow goodness ORANGE?!?! Things that are orange should taste like orange...not mint for crying out loud! Things that taste like mint are white (or green)...don't ask me why, I don't make up the rules, people!

And why is one side of my candy MOIST!?!? (You really can't tell in the picture, but the left side is weirdly shiny and....moist....*retch*)

I don't even like the WORD "moist"....*involuntary shiver*....bleh....

Does anyone else feel like it's looking at them?? It's going to suck my brain out and take over human bodies and start making us do stuff like communicate telepathically and build weird radio transmitters that actually communicate with the dead, isn't it?

Note to self: Stop reading weird aliens-take-over-the-human-race books by Stephen King....they are detrimental to my mental well-being--not to mention interfering with my ability to enjoy a good peppermint patty.

I'm a redneck mother and my mother's a redneck, too

I know....

It's been a while....and you've been waiting, holding your breath and suspecting that I have moved on from this whole blogging experiment to something else.

Well, I'm finally back to blogging after recovering from Cali, dealing with Halloween plus a sick child all at once, and having a husband working god-awful hours.

You may all stop salivating in some Pavlovian fashion about reading this post. Seriously people, CALM DOWN.

Better.

Anyway, so yeah, the trip to California was FANTABULOUS! We had a blast (of course), drank lots of wine (duh) and talked for hours on end (sweet).

Halloween was great....for me. I only had to endure one hour of trick-or-treating due to the feverish 5-year-old and we cancelled our Halloween Party for the same reason, so I didn't have to clean my house. A win-win for me!

Don't get me wrong....I LOVE to entertain. In fact, my husband and I both love to entertain. Really, though, calling it "entertaining" makes it sound like we sit around the drawing room sipping sherry, discussing politics and eating miniature quiches.

Ummm....not so much.

Typically, us having people over involves lots of beer and possibly tequila, a fire outside (if it's cool) and sometimes a game such as spades or dominoes. We occasionally play board games with family, but mostly just because we have kids and they totally annoy us about not letting them play if we don't let them play...and then it's no fun to play anyway because you're annoyed. But yeah, otherwise, pretty much drinking beer and talking.

OH--and some sort of redneck food like queso with breakfast sausage or grilled meat (typically that we killed while hunting).

And we may discuss politics, but usually only after discussing the latest in Mossy Oak* fashion, the newest gun we own, how many dove/duck we shot last season/hunt, how big the deer/elk/hog/turkey was we shot (or our dad shot, or possibly our cousin twice-removed shot...or even the dude in the picture that our mom sent us via email that was supposedly shot in Northern Alaska shot) and the sports our kids play.

Yep, really....that's about it. A typical Saturday night involves us standing around a fire outside, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and the conversation when we have company over goes alot like this:

Me: So, did I tell you Ronnie bought me a new shotgun for my birthday?
Company: NO! Really?? What is it?
Me: A Remington 870 Wingmaster. It's awesome! I love it! And I shot those 6 dove we're grilling with it this year!
Company: Cool. Did I tell you about Susie's softball team making state?
Me: That's so awesome!
Company: By the way, I love your camo shirt and boots....cute!
Me: Thanks! I got them at Academy*.
Company: Hey, can you hand me another beer?
Me: Yeah, hey--did you get that email from me last week showing that guy who killed the world record elk in South Dakota?? Dude--my mother-in-law's mom's cousin knows that guy!
Company: No way!

Not exactly "drawing room conversation" huh?? But, we never hurt for a crowd at one of our parties!

*Redneck Dictionary: 1. Mossy Oak: a company that makes camo and hunting/outdoorsy stuff...clothes, guns, koozies, car accessories, etc. 2. Academy: aka "redneck mecca"....yes, they sell clothes there and yes, much of my wardrobe is from there.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Dude....I'm so totally psyched. I mean, I am like, someone-just-told-me-Taylor-Lautner-turns-18-tomorrow-and-wants-to-have-dinner-with-me psyched. I've got my books and gossip magazines ready for the plane, got my clothes all planned out (but not packed because I freakin' HAAAATTE to pack), got my hair did and I am ready!

I leave tomorrow for California.

*sigh*

I so love California.......well, this is only like the second time I've been, but the first time was such a wine-filled, crazy, mother-daughter-sister bonding experience, that I have retained a love for California ever since that hazy weekend trip to Napa a couple of years ago. A few highlights:

-Who the hell's idea was it to rent a convertible in San Francisco in JANUARY?!?! And BTW: have you see how small the trunks on those things are? Where are we going to fit all of the WINE?!?!

-Plus, due to the fact that you cannot be even a millisecond late to the ferry, we never got to see Alcatraz (we simply HAD to finish that second bottle of wine at lunch....we couldn't very well leave it, could we?). Screw you Alcatraz dude....which is totally what I think my mom said to him as we were leaving. On the plus side, we found a wicked-cool pub and were totally there in time for Friday evening happy hour. We bought shirts.

-I highly recommend letting the youngest member of the party drive...she's obviously got the best tolerance and totally knows where she's going through this giant redwood forest. Meanwhile, her mother will sit in the passenger seat stomping her imaginary brake while trying to read the map by the dash lights and her older sister will ride in the backseat talking on the phone to her husband about how we are totally lost in the redwood forest, mom can't read a map and all we really need is a fucking steak dinner and more wine. (True story...I was there).

-After spending all day Saturday wine-tasting, drinking wine at lunch and dinner, might I suggest starting Sunday morning at Korbel? All true Southern ladies know that champagne is a breakfast drink....and really helps take the edge off the killer hangover.

We had a blast....and ohmigod did we laugh!

But.

THIS time I'm going to see my girlfriend who I've known for, like, ever....and I'm not taking my kids, or my husband, or any other family member...or even a freakin' dog....JUST ME....and it's going to totally kick ass.

Do you know how rare it is that mothers/wives get to be ALONE?? I often reminisce about the days of single-hood that were filled with doing what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. It just ain't the same once you factor in the whole kid/husband thing.

Why not? Because we are constantly caring for, thinking about caring for, purchasing something to care for, or feeling guilty because we're not sure we've cared enough for SOMEONE ELSE.

But not this weekend.

Nope.

This weekend is ALL about me. And you know what I'm going to do??


Miss my family.

Dammit....

So it involves a nickel and a ball bearing

*Note to you: I had this great post all ready to go about some stupid (yet highly entertaining) redneck trick my brother-in-law showed me, so I googled "shotgun shell and nickel trick" (yes, I know Homeland Security will be knocking on my door any minute now), and THIS

pops up.

No, no....take a moment.....let it really sink in....

And I thought I was redneck.

You almost have to wonder if it was on purpose. Note the rott as the best man, the beer can in his hand and cigarette in hers...now that's true love right there, I don't care who you are, that's true love! And of course, there's that killer mullet and tuxedo/slasher-lumberjack/concrete-pourer-guy ensemble worn by the groom. Add to it her flip-flops and their oh-so-chic window accoutrements....not to mention the fact that she's TOTALLY 9 MONTHS PREGNANT

....and I'm truly, completely speechless.

Wow.

So I totally forgot what I was originally going to blog about....I DO remember it involved a nickel and a ball bearing.....

Note to self: NEVER google the word "shotgun"....you never know what may pop up.

One more and we'll all need dentures

So my husband brought home a stray dog the other day.

Yeeeaah....I was less than thrilled.

Four dogs and three horses is just a little too redneck in my book.

I mean, people lose their teeth in direct relation to how many dogs they have....I'm just sayin'.

But I was not nearly as concerned about the dog as my male Dually ("doo-ley"...like the truck). Let me give you the background here: we have three dogs (and all of our teeth), two are females who are not spayed and then there's Dually, who's not neutered. So you get the picture, right? Dually has one job at our house...to make beautiful boxer babies. He doesn't have so much going for him in the brains department, so good thing he's a handsome devil and does his job well. He's like the Brad Pitt of the dog world....well, except for that whole "married to a crazy woman who wants to adopt like 700 kids and has major daddy issues".

But I digress...

So Dually gets his first look at the new stray dog today. And based on the expression on his face, I imagine their convo went something like this:

Dually: I love to run I love to run I love to run.....WHOA. Dude....

Stray: 'sup?

Dually: Uh....who the hell are you man?

Stray: I'm the stray. Don't be frontin' me or I'll jack yo' shit up dude. I got street cred.

Dually: Uh....do you like girls?

Stray: Yo B....all the bitches be frontin' this playa.

Dually: Ummm...well, these two girls are mine, soooo...

Stray: I feel you man. I'm down with the threesome action my brother!

Dually: We're brothers?!?!

Stray: Nah man, it's just a sayin'...like, we both like girls, so we're like, brothers.

Dually: Soooo, we're NOT brothers?

Stray: Man, you so crazy.

Dually: Oooookay....well I'm going to go chase this ball with my little human girl.

Stray: Chasin' balls is busted man. I'm gonna go lay down in my pad. Peace out homes.

Dually: I love to run I love to run I love to run....wait. Do I have a brother?

Like I said....not so much in the brains department.....but cute, right?

Note to self: Consider outside intervention for my dog....is there "dog tutoring"?

Holy. Mother. Trucker.

Yeah....give me just a minute here....

Man....that dude is easy on the eyes. Somebody get me a towel....and I don't mean for my face.

Too bad he's like 17.

When did 17-year-olds get so damn hot? When I was 17, dudes were definitely NOT this hot. What happened in the past 10 years?? If you ask me? It's all those preservatives we feed kids nowadays....and the stuff we inject into chicken. Apparently that's some baaadd shit. It was probably developed at NASA by some secretly funded government project that went awry and actually created an entire flock of deranged chickens who could perform calculus but were totally homocidal maniacs..........or not........

And really?

If this is the result?

I'm all for chicken injections.

Note to self: "I swear he looked 18" might just cut it in the case of Taylor Lautner.

I google, therefore, I am.

So for lack of anything better to blog about today because I'm in a bitchy mood and the perpetual rain isn't helping, I googled "popular blog topics". (YES, I know it's only the second entry and I'm already conceding writer's block and you're totally wondering why the hell I started a blog if I didn't have at LEAST a couple of entries ready to go and now you think maybe you should stop reading it because really, who runs out of stuff to blog about by the SECOND entry?!?! Get off me, people!!!!).

SIDEBAR: does anyone else feel like a wicked (and I mean wicked like "wicked cool", not like "wicked bad") genius when they google something and add it to their knowledge about random shit that no one else cares about enough to google?

No?!?
Just me then???
Ooookkaaay....let's move on....

Here are the top 7 most popular blog topics of all time:

1. TECHNOLOGY BLOGS: 1.2 million visitors per day.
2. NEWS AND POLITICAL BLOGS: 779,000 visitors per day.
3. CELEBRITY BLOGS: 560,000 visitors per day.
4. LIFESTYLE BLOGS: 514,000 visitors per day.
5. ENTERTAINMENT BLOGS: 161,000 visitors per day.
6. FINANCE AND MARKETING BLOGS: 77,000 visitors per day.
7. ARCHITECTURE AND DESIGN BLOGS: 40,000 visitors per day.

ummm.....

really?!?

Where are the food blogs? The humor blogs? Who are these techie bastards that are taking over the internet?!?! And what the hell is a "lifestyle blog"???

And is anyone else as concerned as I am that Perez Hilton's celeb-bashing blog is #7 on the list of the top 100 blogs of all time? Seriously?!?! That guy hasn't used up all 15 minutes of his fame yet?!? WTF?

Note to self: Begin offering tech tips and opinions about the day's events and news stories on the blog daily to increase popularity of my blog.....or just be a bitch like Perez Hilton.

Numero Uno

I tried to come up with a more original title for this posting, but alas, I cannot. How much more do you need to say?? I did it. Finally. People have been telling me for a while that I need to start a blog...soooo

HERE I AM WORLD!!!

*crickets chirping*

Yeeeaahh...that's what I was afraid of.

And you know, I don't even know what to write. I mean, yeah, random shit happens to me and yeah, most of it is funny....but what if no one gives a shit? Or even worse?!!? What if people DO start reading it and then they are constantly like, "Hey when are you going to update your blog? I bet your next posting is going to be hilarious". And then I'll be like, "Ohmygod...now there's all this pressure to be funny. What if nothing funny happens to me today and then I won't have anything to write about and then everyone will be totally disappointed in me and won't want to be my friend?"

Breathe, breathe......in with the good, out with the bad.....breathe.....

Oh shit....what if my MOM finds it and starts reading it?!? And then she'll be all, "I knew you were smoking again! And then I read it on your plog." And I'll be all, "Mom, it's a blog...with a B...blog." And she'll be like, "Whatever...you just need to quit smoking. And are you drinking too much? You know, that's not an appropriate way to deal with stress." And I'll be all, "CLICK".

Whatev.

You know, I have often sat down and taken a good hard look at myself and said, "Self, do you think we drink too much?" and my self says, "Well, isn't there some sort of check-list we can use to help us figure it out?". "Sure," I say, "here hold my beer and I'll google it."

.......click, click.....type, type, type....click, click....click, click.....click, click....click.

"Oh shit."


Note to self: Never be completely honest on the about.com surveys.