Friends

I talk about my "friends" quite a bit.  I was blessed (if I may brag a bit) with the gift of making friends easily.  I love people, I love to talk, I love to laugh, I love to have fun and generally, people want to be around people like that.  So it works out.  As I mentioned in my Facebook rant, I have over 400 friends on Facebook...and know all of them. 

I do, however, understand the difference between a "friend" and a "FRIEND", you know what I mean? I'm very close to lots of people I've met since moving to Texas...some of them I pretty much consider family.  Most all of the close friends I've made here are totally the kinds of friends you call when you run out of gas on the side of the highway because you have ignored your gas light for 3 days in a row.  Or to get advice on the best place to buy a new car, find a dentist or put your kid in daycare.  Or when you had the crappiest day imaginable and need a margarita.  Hey, those are good friends...don't misunderstand me.

You all know by now, I'm a Louisiana girl...I was born and raised there.  I lived in the same house my entire life and went to the same Catholic school for 13 years.  I have friends that I have known since BIRTH.  That is no exaggeration....one of my closest friends' mom has a "bump picture" of her and my mom when they were pregnant.  She and I were born 6 days apart! We have, literally, known each other since the womb.  I also have a friend I've known since kindergarten...and her mom and my mom happen to be close friends as well.  My other super-close friend from Louisiana moved to my hometown in 7th grade, so we've known each other since junior high.  The four of us were not always close...in fact, there are times I look back to junior high and high school and remember us in totally separate crowds.  The two cheerleaders, the drill team girl and the mouthy speech/rodeo kid destined to end up best friends?? No way! (Sidebar: Betcha can't guess which one was me?)

They're not so much friends as sisters.  After 30+ years of knowing someone, there are pretty much no secrets you can keep...even if you wanted to.  We are one part Steel Magnolias, one part Friends and a dash of The Breakfast Club. We have survived junior high, high school, college, sororities, parent's divorce, cancer, boyfriends, renting apartments, break-ups, graduate school, single-life, marriage, buying houses, pregnancy, fertility issues, drug problems, money problems, a husband sent to war, career issues, deaths of loved ones and adoption.  We don't talk everyday, but we all know what's going on with each other and check in regularly. We are so different in our likes/dislikes and our personality traits, yet very much the same in our values and beliefs.  We are so much like family that we can disagree with one another and the idea of breaking off the friendship NEVER crosses our minds because, quite simply, family stays. 

All those "Hollywood stereotypes" of Southern women may be a bit cheesy (Um, hello, bad accent, poufy hair and mint juleps? Yeah, we'll keep our normal accents, ponytails and Miller Lite, thanks).  BUT there are definitely grains of truth in them.  The strength, the depth of emotions and the ability to put a good face on top of all of it...all of these are character traits of these women I call my friends.  It actually makes me laugh to think we are old enough or responsible enough to even be called "women"...when we get together and start talking and laughing, we sound much more like "girls".  In fact, a couple of summers ago when one of us had moved to California, we all went out to visit. We ended up in our pajamas drinking wine, playing board games and talking until 3:00 am....still having slumber parties at 30.

So this weekend, I'm heading back to Louisiana....to be surrounded by these women who have known me longer than I've known myself. We will laugh, we will celebrate, we will talk...and ultimately, our souls will be fuller for it.

Facebook Rant (don't take it personally Facebook...I will always love you...)

I am a HUGE fan of the Facebook (and apparently I'm too stupid to Twitter).  I find it's a great diversion when waiting around for someone, sitting at ball practice or riding in the car.  I will "Like" your pictures, your status and pretty much anything else on your page.  I comment on and read status updates regularly.  I have 400+ friends (and yes, I know all of them....perhaps the meeting is a little fuzzy and I friended them while talking to them at the bar, but STILL...I know them.)

All that is to say, my rant here is not against Facebook, but the people ON Facebook who do not follow the rules.  Yes, I know, there are no rules to Facebook, but for God's sake, there should be.

Rule 1: PLEASE use the "Share" button sparingly.  If every single one of my friends "shared" the latest and greatest Some E Card, my whole wall would be covered with the same damn card over and over and over.  Also, can we agree to stop posting the sentimental/motivational/depressing quotes over fuzzy pictures of rainbows or lily pads on a pond? I like a good quote just as much as the next girl, but for the love of Pete, type it as your status!

Rule 2: DO NOT tag me in your status update unless I'm ACTUALLY with you.  I see this all the time and it drives me batty! Joe Blow: At Hooter's--love these wings! Remember when we came here and got wasted Joe Schmo?!!? -with Joe Schmo But you're not WITH Joe Schmo, are you?? Because otherwise, why would you need to ask him if he remembered getting wasted with you at Hooter's?? You should be actively talking about it across the table at said Hooter's at this very moment! So, what the hell?!?

Rule 3: You do not have to share every damn thing you look at on Pinterest.  For the love of all that is holy.  I am OVER the Pinterest.  No, I don't have an account.  No, I don't want you to send me a link inviting me to create an account.  YES, I do want you to stop sharing every dream kitchen, funny poster and cool hairstyle you have looked at in the last 5.7 minutes!

Rule 4: Along those lines, I do not want to know every song you're jamming out to or video you're watching on YouTube.  Seriously, you're home alone, drinking beer and playing around on the internet....I get it.  If you want to have a party, invite me over, don't post your music and stupid commentary on Facebook.  I'd be happy to come over, have a beer and make fun of you to your face.  No problem!  I'll even bring my own beer!

Rule 5: I do not play games on Facebook.  Bottom line.  Grow your own fucking farm, build a city, go on a treasure hunt, open a restaurant and join the damn Mafia...I could not give less of a shit.  Just stop posting the stupid updates.

Rule 6: Take Facebook for what it is...a social media site.  I do not read every single Facebook post before updating my status and, while I agree it looks shitty of me to post something like, "Beer + Lake = LOVE", which just happens to appear after your heartwrenching post about your dog getting run over, it's gonna happen.  And it's not because I'm a heartless bitch...I love dogs and my family members just as much as the next person.  It's actually because I didn't read all status updates before I posted mine.  And it's MY page, so I'm posting about what I'M doing.  If I was helping you bury your dog or was bringing a casserole to your house because of a death in the family, my status would reflect that.  If I'm not, it won't. And, generally when I have words of condolence to offer, I write a private message to your inbox, comment on your status update, email, call or text you.  I definitely make a point to let people know I'm thinking about them, praying for them and there for them as a friend should be.  Unfortunately, being what it is, Facebook doesn't always organize my thoughts that way.

Rule 7: Another "use sparingly" request: the Check-In.  I'll admit, I'm totally guilty of "checking-in" places...once I figured out how to do it from my stupid phone, that is.  I DO, however, use the check-in only in cases where I'm checking somewhere that A. is cool or B. will make people comment.  I'm kinda a Facebook attention whore that way.  For example, I recently went back home for a visit to my hometown in Louisiana and I made sure to check-in at a local restaurant just because I knew some of my FB friends would comment that it was cool or that they were jealous or whatever.  I DO NOT check in everytime I get to my house.  It's my house, I'm there alot....does it warrant FB mention?? I don't generally think so.

Rule 8: Don't post pictures you can't see.  You know the ones I'm talking about...the crappy cell phone pictures that you take in a bar or during a concert or show or whatever and you can't make out a damn thing in them.  Yeah, those.  Keep them on your phone, show them to me when you see me....but don't put them on Facebook because no one knows what the hell they're looking at.

In summary: perhaps it's time to clean up the ol' Friends list.

Fake Holidays

Leap Day: This is not an actual holiday. It is a calendar fluke which happens every 4 years. Yes, it’s fun to do the math on how old you would actually be had you been born on Feb 29 (fun facts …if you are 84 then you would really only be 21…and the age of people born on Leap Day must be a multiple of 4...).  BUT STILL--not a holiday.

Daylight Savings: This is also NOT a holiday.  It's something that some random guy who didn't want his golf game interrupted invented so that he could have more sunlight during the day.  That's it.  No major celebration, no traditions observed on this day, no cultural significance to any particular group, etc.

SO WHY, I ask you, is my inbox flooded with "Leap Day Savings events" or "Daylight Savings specials" from every retailer from Target to Amazon to the American Kennel Club??!!??!?! REALLY!?!?

This all adds up to the fact that the US can commercialize anything, even fake holidays.  The jury is still out on the random Monday holidays where all the banks and post offices are closed (Columbus Day, Presidents Day, Labor Day, etc.).  I mean, I get it...at least these days are dedicated to the celebration of some sort of historical achievement and/or particular group of US citizenry, but let's face it, we all just sleep in and enjoy our three-day weekend.  And, of course, I'm sure I'll get plenty of sale notifications in my inbox...."Don't delay! Take advantage of *Insert Monday Holiday Here* Savings TODAY!"

Commercialism: FAIL.

Irksome

1.  This:

Do I really want to think about who is in the car in front of me at the red light? No, I don't.  I want the frickin' like to change so that I can be on my way. I do not want to see your family of stick people with your 2.5 children and your dog.  Do you know what I always wonder? What if the dog dies? Do you take his sticker off? Do you buy a new dog and just tell him he has to use the same sticker?? Isn't that like getting divorced and giving your new wife the same wedding set?

2.  Telemarketers calling my CELL PHONE! WTF?? How did they get this number?? There are people I'm related to who don't have my cell phone number.

3.  Crocs.  Do I really need to explain how bad they are? You've seen them, right? TERRIBLE.

4.  Those obnoxious sports decal stickers with your kids' names on them.  I was behind a Suburban the other day that had FOURTEEN of them, I swear! And they were for two kids! Seriously?? You have two kids and they are into SEVEN sports each???? No wonder you drive a frickin' Suburban...you must have to sleep in that thing to get them to all the practices and games they have.

5.  Knee-length shorts.  Can we all just agree to commit either way? Either commit to jeans or commit to shorts.  None of this namby-pamby "I can't make a decision so I'm going with 'jorts'" nonsense. I'm afraid the jury is still out on capri pants...I can't help but feel like a huge dork when I wear them (which is not often), but then other people can totally pull them off in that "I'm going yachting after we finish the back 9 at the country club" way. 

6. Book series.  Yes, I know...how hard is it to be irked by books when you love to read as much as I do??? But seriously...the series....it's killin' me.  I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of not one, not two, but THREE different series to publish the next book! THREE! Believe me, I know writing is not a quick process (sometimes I write the same blog post for three days...and that's just a few paragraphs), BUT STILL. My thought: don't publish it until the whole damn thing is finished.  I don't care if book one starts in 1982 and everyone drives Trans Ams and wears parachute pants, publish it at the same time as book four, which takes place in 2012 and the 7-year-old sister is now 34 and having kids! I'm over the waiting BS.

7.  Bottled water.  Because I'm pretty sure Nestle Pure Life has totally made me its bitch.  And I hate that.  I'll admit...the, like, ONE green thing I do is reuse a water bottle and fill it up out of the water fountain.  But, it sucks.  It's tap water.  It tastes like crap.  But I feel like such a craphead buying bottled water and drinking 8 bottles of it a day.  Nestle: You own me no more!

8.  The way my husband never seems to lose a damn thing.  Text message, "Hey, where are my truck keys?", Me: "In my jeans from yesterday", Him: "WTF? Why didn't you put them on the bar?".  I'm sorry....what? Whose truck keys are they, douchebag?? How is that I managed to lose YOUR truck keys??  In fact, so far this week, I've lost the truck keys, the pliers and two pairs of socks....that weren't mine to lose to begin with.

9.  People who call, I send them to voicemail and they immediately call back.  Then, when I answer and I'm like, whispering, "Hey...is everything okay? I'm in a meeting..." they're like "Oh yeah, I was just on my home from work in traffic and thought we could chat!".  Really? If I don't answer, take that as a hint that I: 1. can't find my phone or 2. can't talk right now.  Either way? I'll call you back....promise.

10. The bar.  And no, not the bar where they sell beer and shots and occasionally you stumble onto a kick-ass live band or karaoke.  The bar that is in my house and serves as a nifty little divider between my living room and kitchen.  And also serves as a place for every last thing under the sun.  Currently on my bar at this very moment: library books, the spare change jar, 48 baseball caps, 75 pairs of sunglasses, 3 legal pads, 14 pens, a belt, the charger for the emergency flashlight, the charger for my husband's new drill, chapstick....and the list goes on and on.  O. M. G. I'm OVER the bar.

Bloody Mary visits for dinner

Dinner conversation at my house:


Kid: Did you know if you say “Bloody Mary” three times, you’ll be cursed? And not like the drink, because you can say that and not get cursed.

Me: *choking on my water* Oh, really? Where did you hear that?

Kid: From Allie, at school.

Me: Well, how does she know?

Kid: She said “Bloody Mary” three times. And she got cursed.

Me: Cursed, huh? Interesting. So did you tell her about the drink part?

Kid: No, I just know that.

Me: Awesome, of course you know that a Bloody Mary is a drink (sorry, Mom). So, she got cursed?? What happened to her?

Kid: Her bicycle disappeared.

Me: Oh yeah? So is that what it means to be cursed? Like, how would I know I’m cursed?

Kid: Well, you would like, go to your office in the morning and your laptop would be gone.

Me: I’m not sure I’d consider that a curse…

Kid: No, Mom, like gone forever! And you would never get it back.

Me: So have you tried it?

Kid: No. And I can’t say it again. I’ve already said it twice.

Me: *snort* I’m pretty sure it’s three times in a row, honey.

Dad: Yeah, like “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary”.

Kid: *GASP* DAD!!! Now you’re cursed!!

Dad: Uh oh! What do you think that means??

Kid: The red truck is gone!

Me: Really? You think Dad got cursed so the red truck disappeared?? (again, not much of a curse since the stupid thing isn't running all that great right now...)

Kid: Yes!

(She bolts up from the dinner table, runs to the front door and throws it open)

Kid: Whew! It’s still there!

Me: Well, do you think the Tahoe will disappear if I say it?

Kid: Probably.

Me: Okay, let’s try it. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary”. Well???

Kid: It’s still there. It didn’t work.

(Comes back to the dinner table)

Kid: Allie must be lying.

Me: Yeah, probably so. Does Allie have a big sister or brother?

Kid: Yeah, a sister. *pause*  Maybe I need to tell Allie that Bloody Mary is a drink and not a curse.

Me: Um, no, probably not. I’m sure her big sister will take care of that soon enough, sweetheart.

And this is why you should sit down with your family and have dinner together during the week.

Twitter Reject

I'll admit it...I *tried* to be cool.  And I failed. 

I tried to do the Twitter.

Problem is?
I can't.

WTF??

Why is it so damn confusing?? Sure, I can tweet, but what how in the hell do you retweet someone else's tweet?? You can do that right? And can you respond to someone's tweet or comment on it like you do on facebook??

Seriously, I need a tutorial.

The radio morning show I listen to plays a game called "Who's Tweet is it Anyway?" and they basically pick three celebrities, read their tweets out loud and the two deejays and a caller have to guess who's tweet it was.  Whoever gets the most right wins tickets to a show or whatever. 

Okay...sounds simple enough.  But holy hell! I don't get it.  These people are just posting these random funny tweets about whatever they're doing that day or whatever's going on in the world of politics and then, without fail, they have some super-witty hashtag to add to it.

What the hell is a hashtag? Do you have to put one? If you do, does it have to be super-witty? Because, let me assure you people, I have tried! TRIED! And I'd like to think I'm a fairly witty person (um, hello?? You're reading this crap, aren't you?), but apparently I lack the amount of wit and sarcasm needed to create a Twitter hashtag that's worth a damn.

"Heading to the grocery store to grab stuff for dinner! #ilovechicken"
"Taking the kids to see The Smurfs! Love Neil Patrick Harris! #wtfwashethinking"
"What is up with Michele Bachmann being such a hater? #drinkmorewine"
"Lindsay Lohan has successfully completed her morgue community service...think they still have formaldehyde left? #wellpreserved"
"Anybody else notice that 'caucus' sounds alot like 'carcass'? #governmentisdead"

See? I just can't do it.  (Okay, actually, I kinda like the last one...but I feel like people reading it will think I'm a. an anti-patriot or b. a moron).  I suck at Twitter.

Coolness: FAIL.

Confessions of a Bad Mother: The Christmas Edition

1. My kid's "Teacher Gift" this year was a re-gift. I'm a serial re-gifter.

2.  I have not made any Christmas cookies, treats, snacks, or other forms of baked goods AT ALL this year and I do not intend to.  I actually took a crab dip to a Christmas party last night, saw there was a shitload of food and stuck it in the fridge to save for the Christmas party I'm going to today.  Yes, mom, I know that was tacky, but the hostess assured me it was no problem...and I wanted to believe her, so I did.

3.  I do not have an Elf on a Shelf.  I will never have an Elf on a Shelf.  For two reasons: 1. They're creepy as hell and 2. I'm too fucking lazy to move the stupid thing every night.  My kids will never know the joy that comes from knowing that Santa, in all his "naughty/nice" glory, sent a minion to watch over you and make sure you don't screw it up in the weeks before Christmas.  How Big Brother are we, Santa?? And where the hell is the elf the rest of the year?? Where was that fucker on the day the kid took a black magic marker to the new carpet and the dog?? I didn't see his creepy ass lurking around THEN, did I?? So, that's a big NEGATIVE on the Elf on a Shelf.

4.  I put ribbon on all of my packages because I am obsessive about wrapping gifts and they all have to be pretty.  Yes, I know kids can't get the ribbon off and dad has to pull out his pocket knife to cut it, thereby endangering the kid because dad now has a knife out, but they have to be PRETTY, dammit! The "Bag o' Bows" doesn't cut it at our house.

5. I found a Target bag with an Easter book and a brown stuffed rabbit in it in the closet with the gift wrapping stuff.  Guess who's getting an Easter book and a stuffed rabbit in one of her presents?? Double the Jesus holiday!

6.  I have no outside lights and no inflatable yard decorations.  I'm certain I'm on some sort of list because of this and I can only hope it's not the naughty one.  People on my street probably think we're Jewish....or Jehovah's Witnesses (aren't they the ones that don't celebrate holidays? I'm pretty sure they are.)

7.  I started my Christmas shopping on December 11th.  STARTED.  I'm so screwed.

8.  The other day, I was driving home and the crossing arm thingy was down at the railroad crossing by my house and there was a train stopped on the tracks a ways back from it.  So the arm goes up and the dude in front of me starts across before it was all the way up.  THEN, it started coming back down on his car! It literally almost chopped down on his car...he had to, like, gun it to get through before it hacked the top of his Jeep! And, I laughed.  Because it would have been hilarious if it had just whacked the shit out of his car!

And I know, that makes me a bad person. 

And that story has nothing to do with Christmas, but I hate lists with odd numbers.