Public School

M: ok whats with the ay on the end of ok... i cnt believe u cant spell ok

me: that is how you spell "okay" you idiot

Wordless Wednesday - When Kiki Doesn't Wax

Someone else's boobs, for a change

Friday afternoon I was thinking that I was going to spend the whole weekend lazing about my house, eating cheddar popcorn and reading the books I bought at Savers.

Then my sister called.

Next thing you know, I'm on my way to Vegas. Hell yeah, VEGAS, Baby.

We were staying at the Monte Carlo, which should you be looking for a place to lay around the pool and people watching is a fantastic place to be. The pool area is small, loud, crowded and ripe with WTF was s/he thinking? outfits.

Which is nice, should you forget your hat and be left with only ironic Bolivian Trucker Hats to prevent your face from catching on fire.

It's also a decent place to read a book and eat over priced steak sliders and drink giant, expensive, weak frozen drinks.

Once we had made sufficient progress on our tan lines


(these are Krissy Oh!'s boobs, by the way, not mine)

we ate dinner with children wearing fanny packs

You can't see it, but he's got an impressively large bottle of hand sanitizer in a quick draw pouch in the side.

Then we went upstairs where despite how it looked we had not actually been robbed

and got ready to go out for the night.

We wandered around for a bit, hitting clubs like Coyote Ugly (the "ugly" wasn't ironic in this case) standing around at an epically disorganized LAX at the Luxor and then chose to bail on invites to Pure and Rain because high heels are not made for walking in.

Which brings us to Sunday.....

OMFG, Sunday. Let me just say that if I had used my own camera right now you would all be begging for invites to next years trip, but since I had my sisters camera you're going to have to wait until she uploads them.

OMG Y'all

I can't even begin to express how terrible this Thursday has been for me.

Cracky my Beloved Black Berry died this morning.

Not, like "oopsie doodles, the battery's not charged!" dead, like actually not functioning anymore. Like, scroll all you want, you're going nowhere sister, dead. Like, oh? you have 26 messages? And you can't see them? SUCKS TO BE YOU dead. Like, Ed McMahon is calling because you won a billion dollars? TOO BAD YOU CAN'T ANSWER, dead.

Do you think I've backed her up on my desktop? Do you think that the computer I spend the day chained to will even LET me back her up? Do you think that rebooting, taking the battery out, crying and tearing at my hair has made any difference? NO. No, of course not.

So I called "Polite but Not Very Helpful Unnamed Provider", heretofor known as "Verizon" for a solution to this world shattering situation and do you know what they said? "Oh, I'm sorry that you're having an issue, we can send you a new phone, but since it's a long weeked the estimated delivery date is WEDNESDAY".

And then? Then I started to hyperventilate. I broke out in a cold sweat much like a detoxing junkie and started to moan unitelligable things like "twwwwiiiitttttterrrrrr" and "teeeeexxxttttsss" while rocking back in forth in a fetal postion underneath my desk.

Just as I was getting ready to slit my wrists with my letter opener, the operator told me that she would comp me overnight FedEx service because I had been a Loyal Customer for Many Years.

Thank god.

Wednesday WTF - BJ's boyfriend Visits Again

Seriously, BJ. You can do better.

Luvyurmatch.comhatingguts,

Thystle

Noms

The other day I tweeted? Twittered? Tweetered? whatever, that I was eating crackers with peanut butter and dill pickles.

The ever hilarious Crabgrass commented back asking if I was knocked up.

The answer to which, is THANK GOD, No. Hell no. HELL TO THE HELL NO.

I just like weird food.

I blame my dad. When I was ten my mother went back to graduate school and that left my father in charge. It also left us pretty broke. Anyone who's been broke knows that you eat whatever is on sale and sometimes? That means that what you eat is kind of odd. Also, my dad is kind of odd, so that could have something to do with it.

Among the food combinations that I recall from my childhood are;

* chicken "lunch meat" with peanut butter

* tuna salad with peas/lima beans/corn mixed in

* peanut butter & dill pickle sandwiches

* breakfast sausage and white rice casserole (a favorite)

* corn on the cob with mayo

* pizza dipped in mayo (hmmm and I wonder why I have a big ass!)

* "Hobo casserole" (whatever noodles, meat and sauce you can find - usually hamburger, elbow noodles and spaghetti sauce)

* Spaghetti sauce omelette's

I could go on and on, but those are the ones that I can think of that I liked. I'm sure there were others that I hated and have thusly blocked from my memory. Like Meatloaf. ENDLESS DAYS AND NIGHTS OF MEATLOAF. With ketchup on top, which I hate. Although, that said, I do enjoy a meatloaf sandwich. Mmmmm meatloaf on white bread with mayo, glorious mayo.

So tell me, what was is something odd that you used to eat that just says home to you?

Cuteness and Wootness

I know all you Emma fans out there are anxious to know how the walk went, and though I haven't talked to her dad, he did send me a couple of pictures from the day.

They got up bright and early if the text time is to be believed. I mean really, what kind of barbarian starts events that requires you be up, dressed and on the road by 9am? Clearly Emma agrees with me.



See? She's all, WHAT THE HELL, MAN? I need my beauty sleep!


But, like the champ that she is, she rallied and even allowed them to festoon her with bandanna's and then snap more pictures.

Then, her dad forgot that he was supposed to be updating us and next thing you know?

Finish line.

Then it's back to the hotel to go swimming with mommy and daddy. Or, well, swimming with daddy, who is no doubt going to be thrilled I posted a picture of him shirtless on the Internet, but hey! You don't want to be half naked on the web? This blog is NOT the place for you.

Check out that smile! What a doll! And you know why she's happy? Because her $2000 goal was met after all! Woot!

A big thank you to everyone who took the time to donate.

Our final blog reader donation tally came from Lorrie, Eric, Sheila, Ruby, Racie and an A. Nonny Mouse. Crabgrass and I also both donated, but I'm leaving us out of the drawing for the purse. Which I have used a super secure drawing method that you all might remember from the game M.A.S.H. which involved drawing a spiral until I was told to stop by my handy assistant Brett. I then listed the names in order of donation and crossed them off every time I reached the number "12" which is the amount of rings in my spiral.

Which brings us to the DRUM ROLL!!!!!!!!!!

Congrats to Sheila! Woot! Sheila has no blog, or I would link it here. Which is a hint, Miss S to go and START A BLOG because those of us that know you know that you are one funny girl!

This is a yearly event, so start saving your lunch moneys and we'll do this again next year with an equally fabulous prize!

Last Chance!

Doesn't Emma look sad? It's because she's $220 away from her goal.

BUT! Good news! You still have the rest of today to help turn that frown upside down AND have a better than one in ten chance of winning a stylish COACH PURSE

So go donate and then leave a comment here. We'll announce the winner Monday

A big, huge thanks from Emma's Mom & Dad to all that have already donated.

Half Way Point

The last few days people have begun to notice that I'm losing weight. Despite the fact that BabyMama walked right past me because she didn't recognize me from behind and despite the fact that I can now wear M's jeans and even despite the fact that the women's fitness manager at the gym had to look at my name to figure out who I was after a year of casual chatting, I was pretty convinced that the weight I had lost wasn't that noticeable. It's probably because I see myself all day, everyday and I've become used to it. Much the way a frog in cold water doesn't have the sense to jump out when it starts to boil I suppose.

Yesterday, I borrowed M's camera so I could post a picture she took at a concert (Rita Cruz is no doubt crying with shame that her son looks like Joker - the Crack Years) and I cam across this picture from CK's bachelorette party

Granted, it's a none too flatter picture of any of the party. For example KL is grabbing her boobies and LW looks like she's going to die, while CF seems bemused and CK looks positively murderous. And I, dead center, of course, look like a cheese ball above all cheese balls.

A few clicks down the camera is a shot that she took so that she could brag about picking out my awesome mothers day gift, a turquoise and hematite sea turtle necklace.

I am struck by three things - one, that lipstick? Not so cute. and Two -When the hell did I get such a pointy chin? And lastly, I can finally see what people are talking about. And that makes all the puking worth it.

Wordless Wednesday, WTF edition

Disturbing on many levels

Brought to you by Awkward Family Photos

You know what's NOT disturbing? Giving Emma your lunch money! This is the last week for the contest so go here to donate and then leave a comment so I know you donated. Contest ends Saturday and we'll draw the winner on Monday.

Wiki-whacked

M: Why do they drive on the right side of the car in England?

Me: I don't know, go look it up

(disappears to use the computer)

M, upon returning: It's so they have easier access to their sword arm, so they can like, sword fight with other drivers or something.

the princess and the pasta

The weirdest thing about this whole lack-of-a-stomach experience is that I'm not hungry but I think about food. ALL THE TIME. Partially, this is because many foods hate me (chicken, I'm looking at you) and so finding something to eat is a challenge. And partially it's because there are many foods that I love but simply no longer eat. Foods like bread. And rice. And glorious, glorious pasta.

I love me some pasta. I love it so much I dreamt about it last night.

There I was, wearing purple striped tights, a bathing suit and a tiara,

trying to find a place to take a nap, but before I could do so I needed to find a pillow. But all I could find was empty pillow cases. I searched high and low for something to fill them with before deciding on pasta.

Yes, pasta.

Suddenly there was pasta surrounding me.

I try spirelli. To lumpy. Next, I try spaghetti; too pokey. No, no, that won't do....macaroni? No. Shells? No. On and on down the list I stuff my pillow case full of noodles and then thrash around trying to get comfortable until at last I try ziti. At last! I snuggle down into my ziti filled pillow while a talking bear tells me stories and pets my head. At last I drift off to sleep in my dream as the scent of marinara leaves me drooling into my dream pillow.

Which is proof, I suppose, that you can take the fat off my ass, but you'll never get it off my brain.

Revelation

in the still moment after
with your head heavy on my chest
you asked me when I knew
I said it was sometime
once upon a time
another time
but it was the first time
when your arms circled me
and the summer sun warmed your teeshirt
so that the heady smell of you
became the only thought in my head
that I knew
it was always, always you
I just didn't know it
yet

One for the Divorce Papers

(while watching American Experience special about Geronimo, we learn that Geronimo gave his father in law a large number of horses is exchange for his first wife)

Me: That's so sweet!

Husband: I'd have given your dad a donkey for you. But I would have needed a goat back as change.

Nothing a little Purell can't handle

While everybody's worried about a global pandemic, here's something to take your mind off those fears: since 1945, it's thought that at least 50 nuclear weapons have been lost around the world, and were never recovered.

Spoon Fed

There are two things I'm absolutely sick of hearing about. One is the swine flu. Seriously. This is not a pandemic, people. It's less than 200 confirmed infected cases WORLD WIDE and less than a dozen deaths. Do you know how many people die each year of regular strains of the flu in America alone? Between thirty and fifty thousand.

Yet, because the news media is telling us we're all going to die, drug store aisles are cleared of hand sanitizers and face masks. They should be calling this SHEEP FLU.

Secondly I'm tired to death of the drama about Miss California's response in regards to gay marriage. Do I agree with her stance? No, not at all. Do I think she's using religion as a crutch? Yes. But for fucks sake, people, the question was not "what does most of America think about gay marriage" it was what did SHE think about it. It's not an issue of being right or wrong, moral or immoral. She was asked for her opinion and she gave it. So, kudos to her for standing up for her own beliefs. That's the whole point of freedom of speech; to be able to say any thing that comes to mind. Short of, I suppose yelling FIRE in a theater. Or you know, saying I have a fat ass. That's just uncalled for. But just as people don't want to be told whom they can and can not love, so should they afford Miss California the ability to say what she thinks. Otherwise, they're simply no better than they accuse her of being.

The whole point of life, in my potentially dumbass, loudmouthed, self-serving and opinionated opinion is that you are turned loose on the world to find you way. To think for yourself. To find love where you can. To believe in something and stand behind it.

If life in America and it's constant barrage of new media hand holding and sensationalizing has taught me anything at all, it's that you've got to stand for something or your ass will organically bond to the toilet seat of your single wide and you'll have to be removed with a crane and you can damn sure bet that the angle the camera uses won't be flattering.