My favorite things...

I normally don't like Carmex. The taste that is, cause I'm a lip gloss licker. However, this stuff isn't too bad. My crusty crusts need some good stuff in the Winter months and this stuff does the trick. Go get ya some!!

This may be love...

And so I say...

Seriously

Remember these? It's a simple blow up toy that's weighted down with sand that you can beat the hell out of and it just pops back up. I don't feel like I need one to let out some frustration, I feel like I AM one. Not all the time, just in recent months. It's like every time I start to feel like I'm feeling calm and collected BAM. Pop back up. BAM. Pop back up. You get the idea.

I'm not gonna go into detail cause ewww. I'm just wondering, do I have a sign on my person that says, Come on...PUNCH-ME?!?!

Once upon a time

The whole reason for this post is because I saw a recent picture of my mother. She's 55 years old has been a smoker for about 40 years.
I remember when I was little I used to think she was GLAMOROUS because she smoked. I mean, the ladies on Dynasty did it. I remember asking her to buy me those awful candy cigarettes from the gas station so I could copy her in all her glamour. And she did, sometimes 2 "packs" at a time.
She would often run around in a tizzy then sigh loudly and exclaim, "I NEED a cigarette!" She would sit in her chair, one leg tucked under her while the dangling one in constant motion, she'd reach over and grab her soft leather case, snag that loooong Virginia Slim 120 out and snap the case shut. Funny, I can still hear that little click. Her lighter was always MIA and she'd have me run and go find it QUICK. She'd light it up, take in that first thirsty inhale and close her eyes. Bliss. So I thought.

As I got older I hated her for smoking. I hated that she would barely crack the window in the car while she was smoking and driving me to school. I tried everything I could to get her to quit...hide her packs, her lighters, accidentally sit on her cigarette case crushing them (whoopin' for that one). I hated that my clothes and hair smelled like well, Her. I hated that money went to a fresh carton instead of ordering from my school fundraiser. I hated when she tried to kiss my cheek with that awful ashtray breath thisclose to my nose. I knew that I would never smoke. And I haven't. Not even once.

My mother and I don't speak now. No, it's not because she smokes. Our reasons run deeper than that. The picture was found while Facebook creeping. (What? Don't act like you haven't done it) She looked many many years older than her actual age. She looked very thin, very sunken, very dull. Very NOT Glamorous. She has had Emphysema for about 6 years now and is on full time Oxygen. I would ask her if it's been worth it, all these years of smoking, but I already know her answer.

The Black Keys

I. Love. Music. If you sit still while listening to this song, well, I just don't think we can be friends.

And now she's an actress!

I'll make this short and sweet as I could go on and on about how proud we were and are of Chesney's acting debut....she was ahhmazing! Yeah, I'm biased but shouldn't I be?! So, here we are after her performance as Mitzi Bond in Murder Takes the Stage.

A cranky girl says, What?!

I used to think I was a really "let it roll off my back" kinda person, but if I sit here and think about it for oh, a split second...not so much. In fact, I seem to be less tolerant than I used to be. I get easily irritated when people walk a pinch too slow in front of me. Heaven forbid someone doesn't use their blinker on Main St. And oh my how my feathers will ruffle if some Junior High girl is talking in her loudest, squeakiest, "and then I told him all about so and so who told me that she was texting him while he was texting me" voice right.in.my.ear.
I used to not care so much or shall I say it wasn't as noticed. Does this mean I'm getting older and thereby more "cranky"?! Are the next words out of my mouth going to be, "Kids these days! Turn whatever that is down! Some of us work for a living!"?!
I shake my fist and yell....HELL NO!! And here's why:

1. I like my music loud. Not sound warp loud but I love to roll down the highway to clear my mind while blaring music. Sometimes it's some 80's mashup of Phil Collins or Metallica. Another time it's Loretta and Split Lip Rayfield. No matter, if I'm in the mood, it's gonna be so loud that my seat vibrates and I can feel it in my heart, in more ways than the obvious. If you don't know what that feels like, oh man, you just aren't living right.

2. I laugh at any and all bodily functions. Yeah. Nothing beats a good fart. It's something that all of us do, there's even a book called Everyone Poops. Of course everyone knows what it feels like to fumble with house key while doing the peepee dance. You rush in the house dropping the groceries, damn the eggs anyway, lose the purse along the way, unzip, unbutton, squiggle out of, sit down JUST in the nick of time annnnnnnnd, whooosh! Ahhh. Sweet Lord, I almost peed my pants. If you didn't smile and nod your head in agreement to that, go drink a lot of water and hold it til I say when.

3. Babies. I love their smell, the coo's, the little grin that comes over their face when they pass gas. (see, back to farting) I love to hold them and squish their squishy little fat rolls. I love even more the fact that I don't have to wake up in the middle of the night to tend to them. (um, what does this whole baby thing have to do with the getting cranky/old subject? Not sure, just go with it)

4. I play Bejewelled Blitz at work. Yeah, I said it. I'm not always nose to the grindstone. This girl needs a break from the coding and billing and researching! It's good for the company in the long run. I mean, do they really want me all burned out? I think not. See, an old cranky person wouldn't screw off while at work, would they?

One final thought, age is nothing but a state of mind, right? And we change our minds oh, a bajillion times a day. So, on any given day/moment I can be like a curious 4 year old. Or maybe a rebellious teen. Ooh, how about a whiney "my jeans don't fit" 35 year old? I may be a bit less tolerant, cranky, older...whatever the case may be, I'm just gonna have to roll with it. Just use your blinker, mmkay?

And sometimes I talk to myself

I haven't had a whole lot to say lately. Which is rather interesting because truth be told, a lot of stuff has been going on in my life, in my head, in my house, in my little neck of the world. As it does in everyone's lives. Let's see...why is that I feel I don't have much to say?

So I ask...Self? Yeah, right here. What's been up with you lately? Who, me? Uh, yeah. Well, since you asked and you are such a good friend to me and know me better than anyone, let me tell ya. See, I'm sad. This makes me very irritated because damned if there isn't a whole lotta people a lot worse off than me and I have many blessings that I should be thanking God, Mother Earth, Loretta Lynn and Carbs for. But seriously, I've just about had it with a few things. I've had it with living this split house/town/BS way. I'm thisclose to pitching a fit of epic proportions. E P I C. I've had just about enough of robbing Peter to pay Paul to keep these two houses afloat. I miss having my husband sleeping beside me every night and I miss the way his hand would find it's way to it's resting spot on my hip or tucked under me. I even miss the way his pillow smells. I am sick of talking about it and even sicker of NOT talking about it. Now that makes perfect sense doesn't it?

My baby girl. In an instant. Bam. Senior year. Um. 'Scuse me?! Wasn't she just in 1st grade? I need to find a way to slow this train down. I want to just hold on to her a while longer. I'm not ready for the world to take her. Oh but wait, that's just it. The world isn't "taking her". She is gonna take on the world. Either way, slow....down.

My little man. Couple times a day I get all hot-eyed trying to hold back tears. I miss him. Gut wrentchingly miss him. I did not give birth to this awesomeness that is Dallas, but I love him like I did. And so help me, if She thinks for one second that I'm not of matter, that I don't count in his life and that I'm not his...my mouth full of blood from holding my tongue will come undone.

Self, seems to me you got lots to say. Really? No.Shit.

Nun jokes crack me up...

Two nuns are ordered to paint a room in the convent and the last instruction of the Mother Superior is that they must not get even a drop of paint on their habits.

After conferring about this for a while, the two nuns decide to lock the door of the room, strip off their habits, and paint naked.

In the middle of the project, there comes a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" asks one of the nuns.

"Blind man," replies a voice from the other side of the door.

The two nuns look at each other and shrug, both deciding that no harm can come from letting a blind man into the room, they open the door.

"Nice boobs," says the man, "Now, where do you want the blinds?"

In just a few minutes...

In just a few minutes my baby girl will be a Senior in High School. Her Junior year comes to an end in just 21 minutes. In just a few minutes I will start crying. A few minutes before that I will be thinking about how stinking fast these years have gone by. Like right now, I'm thinking about how she always wanted me to put her hair in half down/half ups her 1st grade year. In just a few minutes, she'll walk out of school and begin her Summer with friends. It's a lunch date with her girls today then camping at the Boxcar later. In just a few minutes she'll be laughing and will feel relieved that school is out and not have a clue that down the highway and around the corner, sitting in my office...I'll be crying cause my little girl is happy.

Fog from long ago

Ok Friends, While going through some old stuff on Myspace (I barely remembered my password!) I came across this blog and it made me giggle so I thought I'd share it again here.



I HATE the fog...
Two phobias...that's it. Clowns and fog. I had to drive in fog this a.m. It was just a quick little trip, but still!!

It seriously creeps me out. It's not so much what's in front of me, I mean, I do have headlights. It's the stuff to the sides and behind me that really get me!!!!! But here's where it gets funny>>>>>>


I jumped out of the car and did a mad dash for the back door so I could be back in the non~foggy safety of my own home when what happens kiddies???



The only thing that could happen TO ME, IN THE FREAKIN FOG>>>>>>



As I'm making that mad dash, I turn my head cause I thought I heard something and....










WHAMMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bam, right into the back door!

I'm not bleeding, nothings broken. Stop laughing.

Enjoy your day :)

Randomosity

This is going to be random. Enjoy.

1. Snow storm last Friday...today, windy and warm. If I hear one more person say, "Oh, that's Kansas for ya" "stick around a minute and the weather will change" I may scream.

B. My neck.

2. I really hate it that I bought a new lotion that smelled great in the bottle but ended up smelling kinda like a rotten plant on my skin.

D. My BDay is next month and I'll be 35. 35. 35. Has a nice ring to it.

3. This little cottage of a house is really growing on me. I can't wait to do some planting and mowing and enjoying the big back yard.

F. There really isn't anything good on tv. Well, I do like the "MilkaWhat" commercial.

4. I wonder if Ches knows that I still wake up and check on her while she's sleeping and kiss her forehead and breath in her smell?

H. I'm overweight. I can't even say it's a fat and happy weight. It's more along the lines of I love food and dislike working out, fat.

5. I need a new mattress. Mine is old and sinks in the middle and may be the reason I'm such a cranky bitch in the mornings.

J. I'm a mess. But I'm HIS mess and everything will be ok.

6. I think I have my mothers hands. Don't know how I feel about that.

L. Dallas is the funniest kid I know. His sense of humor is deadpan and I love it and him. His giggle warms me. :)

7. A lady I work with is moving to North Carolina. She's kinda cranky(it's a part of her charm) but she's my favorite and feeds me her leftovers for lunch and hugs me. I'm gonna miss her.

N. I've noticed that I'm not talking as loudly as I used to. That feels nice.

8. No clue where my brain is lately. My hands are shaky and I've been misspelling words. Um yeah, that's really bothersome.

P. Ever drive by a house and wonder what's going on behind closed doors?

Breathing. Typing. Tripping.

It's a wonder sometimes how I'm still alive and considered somewhat normal. Let me tell you a few reasons why.

When I get stressed out or start worrying about stuff that is under my control or waaay out of it, I tend to hold my breath. Not til I'm about to pass out or anything, it's jut something I've always done. Nervous habit? Coping mechanism? OCD? I don't know what it is. Just when my lungs feel that pressure something just clicks and I am jolted into remembering the vital need of oxygen. Yay for deep breaths.

There are times when I'm watching tv or getting ready to dose off I'll start typing. Not computer typing, it's more like blanket typing or arm typing or typing on anything that is near my right hand. Yep, it's one handing typing cause I'm skilled like that I guess. I'll just start typing out what is being said on the show I'm watching or the thoughts that are running through my head or the lyrics to my new fave song of the moment and sometimes I'll just type the conversation that I'm having. Now I never said if it was the one I was actually having with someone or the one I was having with myself but I suppose it doesn't matter cause I'm air~typing after all. There are some people, and you know who you are, that have felt me typing on them. I'll start typing on the arm that is draped around me or on a back that I'm supposed to be scratching. Sometimes they feel it and sometimes it's so lightly done that they don't realize I'm doing it and honestly most of the time I don't realize that I'm doing it either. Funny thing (as if this wasn't funny/weird enough) is that when I do realize I'm typing is when I'll make a mistake in spelling or miss a punctuation and I'll backspace or delete to fix it. Humph.

Nine times out of ten if there is something that most people would never trip on, I'll trip on it. I'll trip on an imaginary step even. Upstairs, downstairs, carpet, hardwood, outside or inside...if I'm walking, I'm trippin. Oh,and I bump into stuff a lot. I can not walk a straight line and so sorry if you've been walking along side me and I've bumped into you or started walking sideways. It is not a good idea to be in a store with a lot of breakables. I'm not drunk I promise. I think I'm just one of those people that can't walk and talk and chew gum at the same time. I'm not talking about random clutziness, as most people suffer from that from time to time. I'm talking I do this all the time. Everyday. Several times a day. Ok, maybe not several but at least once or twice on a good day. Sometimes I fall flat and get a bit banged up and it's usually my right hip that gets the brunt of it. Sometimes I gracefully (HA) recover or land gently. It's a sight I tell ya. Or so people say. I trip on my own feet and believe me, I can or have already tripped over your feet. Don't ask, I don't have the answer. Can you believe I've not broken anything? Yeah, me neither.

And I am random. Ya think?