"This Is Special"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WhuikFY1Pg

My sister-in-law and I, thought it would be fun to have a girl's night with our little girls. We made lavish plans to stay downtown at a hotel and take them out to dinner at a fancy restaurant (not Red Robin) and go see the Christmas tree lighting.  Something special. Here's what really happened.

Okay, so you remember how I don't really love the city very much?  Like, it's okay, once in a while, but Momma's a wanna-be country girl at heart.  I knew this going in. But I will try things.  It all sounded fine and good.  Maybe even relaxing. Good memories for the little 'uns. It was a goal. But as soon as I got down there, I pretty much felt like I didn't belong.  Like I had three legs. I was very much out of my comfort zone. That old school Sesame Street song and game kept running through my head, "Which One of These Things is Not Like the Other?"  Yep.  My thermal wearing under her jeans, sister-in-law felt the same. We are sure that none of the ladies in Sex in the City ever wore thermals under anything.  Ever.

We really tried to play it cool though,

Okay, let's just try and be cool city people until we get to the crosswalk. Ready?  Go.




It was really hard.  Cuz going to the city is one thing.  Taking your little girls is quite another.  Whatever freakities we had on the other side of the river, were amplified about 20X with Them Little Girls in the city.  Taking a walk in the suburbs is totally not taking a walk down Burnside and 3rd.  Nope.  Here's some random kid comments for ya--

I smell corn dogs.
It smells like dog poop.
Can we go now?
I'm starving.
My tummy hurts.
What was that?

We managed to brave the city streets and walk everywhere. We left the men and cars at home. So much to see and experience.  So much to touch.  And when I say walk, our kids don't really walk, so much as run, skip, twirl, stomp, tightrope-walk along the curb, pretend like they are in Mario Cart, spin around every single pole, touch every single 4ft high surface, and jump in every single suspicious puddle. Just totally oblivious to everything. **Inside joke--"We don't need a limo, we've got the short bus."** Which brings me to the freakities.  This is what the moms sounded like--

Don't touch it.
Stop touching.
Get your fingers out of your mouth.
Get off the ground.
You're too far.
Be quiet.
Sit on your bottom.
Put your tongue back in your mouth.
Did you just spit?
O.M.G., you just spit!
No one is allowed to push buttons anymore.
Zip your coat.
Put your hat on.
Move.
Walk.
Pay attention.
Focus.
Stop.
STOP.

It was exhausting.  At one point we called the husbands, who were at the Blazer game, and told them to pick the kids up on the way home from the game.  We were kidding (sorta), but it really got us thinking that next time, the dads get the girls and the moms go to the Blazer game.  That would be better. We also realized that there were some points of our adventure, that we really could've used the dads.  Like when we were sitting in the hotel room and needed snacks.  Dads are really good for running out and getting snacks.  And at the Christmas tree lighting this is what my little one sounded like the entire time--

Addy:  Can we have hot chocolate?
Me:  In a minute.
Addy: I want some hot chocolate.
Me:  I'll get us some in a minute.
Addy:  I'm dying for hot chocolate.
Me: (ignoring)
Addy: But you said we could have some hot chocolate.  I really want some.  Hot chocolate is wonderful.  It is so warm and tasty.  How about I go get it. I know where it is. Please get me some hot chocolate.  I want hot chocolate.  Hot chocolate. Hot chocolate.  Hot Chocolate. Hot chocolate.Hot chooooocooooolaaaaaate.
Me: (crying a little bit)

See, that would be a fantastic time to have a dad around.  The dad is also good at waiting in enormous lines and somehow balancing eight hot chocolates all at once.  Dads are good at this.  I, am not. 

After the tree lighting, we walked to a Starbuck's far, far away that didn't have very long lines and I was an inch away from ordering hot chocolates all around, when Addy-girl piped in, "I'm hot, I want some juice."  She got hot chocolate.  Dammit.

You'd think that once we got back in the hotel room, we'd be able to unwind, relax and start to have fun. Let the fun begin! Then that whole Three's A Crowd came into play.  So we were refereeing until bedtime.  My sister-in-law brought her book to read and reread the same three pages all night.  I knitted the same six rows over and over.  So relaxing.



The next morning we decided to walk down to VooDoo donuts and end on a high note.  We had never been and heard great things.  Lemme say right here that Portland has a bunch of homeless people.  A bunch.  And lemme also say that I never have cash on me.  It's a rare thing, but since you have to tip for everything in the city, I had some cash.  We got coffee for the trek to VooDoo and I felt bad for a lady that was standing outside the coffee shop.  I gave her a couple dollars.  Then felt immediately bad for the ten other homeless people standing around, but I had little girls to monitor and had to get back to that. 

So we get to VooDoo Donuts, which lemme say is not in the best part o' town.  Nope.  And there was a really long line running down the block outside of it.  It was seriously like waiting in line for New Moon.  We were in line 30 seconds and this guy comes over and asks if I have a dollar.  And since I never have cashola and I actually did (it was a sign), I gave him a dollar, and he then asked for more.  I then cut him off.  Carry on, Mister, you're scaring me.  So we seriously have to wait in line for a good twenty minutes.  Right alongside five dumpsters and the glorious smell of things and Lysol trying to cover up these things.  I wish I could've taken a picture of that smell for you.  VooDoo should really do something about that, cuz by the time I could actually get a donut, I didn't even want one (mine is still waiting in the bag, on the counter to be eaten).  But this is the best part.  When we finally get into VooDoo, there's this sign--

That's just great.  I am so done.  I've reached my limit with the city.  Time to go home to my clean, clean, clean, really smells good house, take a hot shower and take a nap with my dog.  That is all I want to do now. 

Despite all of that (does it seem negative up there?), and one of the kiddos adding, "160,000 button toys to her Christmas list," the kiddos had the best time ever! We heard them telling the dads and the grandmas all about it. Apparently they had no idea the freaks their mothers were.  Somehow, the goal was achieved.  And this is all so very funny...now. I do think it would have been an entirely different blog post for you about the city if I had gone without my precious, precious children.  You know, like on a date or just out with my sister-in-law.  Maybe.  Then again, maybe not. Carrie Bradshaw, I am not.

Happy Thanksgiving

A couple years ago, my aunt gave the girls a book called, Grateful Hearts Give Thanks- A Treasury of Graces and Blessings.  It was the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning, and I thought--blog.  I'm big on listening to myself, so I dug through Addy's bookshelf, to find it. 

Today, like most of you, we're having the family over.  Both sides. We are so fortunate in that all of these different personalities, ages and heights (that's an inside joke of which I should really blog about on another occasion, cuz it's pretty good) can get together in a small setting for hours and leave still liking each other. 

I laugh.  I do, but this has been a hard year.  The economy, distance, health issues, and tragedy--we went through a lot as a family. It is our faith and our love for one another that gets us through right this minute. I know that's true. I am so thankful that we can still smile, laugh until it hurts, and find the good.   

Our Heavenly Father, we thank you for this food, the roof above us and for this family.  Help us remember that a family is for growing up in, for going away from, and for coming back to.  It is for loving concern, for helping each other through happy times and sad.  With Your blessing, this family will always be together in our hearts and in our memories, giving each of us the strength to live our own lives and to be our own persons.  Amen.

Virginia Backus

You know I have to end with funny, right?

Which one's the turkey?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Willy-Nilly

I feel like I need to blog, but nothing earth shattering has really happened since the last time, so I'm just gonna throw some stuff in here and go random. 

Before I start, on the eve of Thanksgiving I'd like to say something I'm thankful for (the random could get a little cranky). 

I'm thankful for Bill Engvall and George Lopez.  They've been doing their jobs WELL distracting me lately, when music just won't do.

My List of Random:

*Okay, so not only have I lost the spell check button in Blogger, now I've lost the underline button.  Just what is going on here?! 

*I don't trust my dentist.

*Why do all the batteries and all the light bulbs go out at the same time?

*I think I'm wearing Olivia's socks.

*I lost my Costco card and I need rolls, in bulk.

*I'm almost done Christmas shopping.

*I could really use an explanation.

*I kind of want to beat up Jennifer's doctor.

*I think I'm FINALLY getting The Look down with my kids.  It only took 8 years.

*How have I been awake 36 minutes and not had any coffee yet?! 

*Why does the cat always throw up five minutes before the guests get here?

*I still don't know what to get Uncle Dick for Christmas.

*I don't really like talking on the phone, but I'll talk to you.



*I learned the most upsetting fact about public restrooms last night reading my Health magazine.  Though the toilet seat is "pretty" safe to sit on (which I still won't), you gotta make sure the toilet paper dispenser is totally enclosed cuz when you flush, stuff sprays all over the TP.  Great. Great, Great, A-Flippety Great.

* Think of me at 8:00 a.m. when you're still in your PJ's, sipping your coffee, in your fat socks.  I'll be at Jazzercise.  I'll be thinking of you.

*Why is it that there is always something else to do, especially when it's 9:00 p.m. and all you want to do is stretch out on the couch and not think, but you remember you  have to makethecoffeestartthedishwasherchangethelitterboxletthedoginputtheclothesinthewasherinthedryerandfoldtheclothesinthedryercheckthekidsbackpacks...and it just.never.ends.

*I agree with Erin that it would be fun to be pregnant again, but only for like a minute--cuz these t-shirts exist--

And these are just good--

I may have gotten a little carried away with the t-shirts right there, but lemme end this on another thankful note.

I am thankful for all that stuff up there, cuz it means I'm still here.

I Want to Renember This

My family is such a wealth of blogging material.  I should use them more.  I've got a couple good little funny stories, care of my children.  I especially love it when they are funny and they don't mean to be.  It's the best.

As soon as I heard this one, I knew it had to go to the blog. Last week, I took the kids out of school to get flu shots.  To put it mildly, they get extremely nervous.  To try and keep things calm, I put on classical music to listen to as we drove down.  At one point, some opera came on.  After a couple minutes of silence, Liv pipes up, "This sounds just like Miss Piggy from The Muppets!" I really had the healthy laugh for that one.  She was completely serious.  And it really did sound like Miss Piggy.  I told Liv, "If only the woman singing heard you say that," and Liv replied, "That's a girl?" Again, completely serious. 

There's more.

Yesterday, I'm driving around (I am noticing that a lot of the funny happens in the car) with my girls just a-chatting away in the backseat.  They are reminiscing about Christmas. Then Addy renembers (this is how she says, "remember"), "one time, we went to this place and there were all these Christmas trees lined up and there was this fancy restaurant, but we didn't go in, renember?" That's about all she gives us to go on. Liv and I are trying to help her out with suggestions of what it was we went to--The Festival of Trees (literally loads of Christmas trees lined up), Sunriver (otherwise known as, Christmas Heaven on Earth)?  Was it in Maryland? The mall? She tries to sprinkle in little things that don't help us out at all with renembering.



She finally gets totally frustrated with us and says very exasperated like, "Uuuugh, you guys never renember anything!  I renember all the old days!"  The girl is six.  Loving that so much.

Don't Get Me Started

Yesterday my sister-in-law, niece and mother-in-law came over to bake a huge amount of Christmas cookies.  While the kids planned little mini-shows for us upstairs, we dug into the flour, sugar and eggs and caught up. Usually there's a good chunk of time between our last visits, so there's plenty to talk about.  The first topic of conversation was of course, New Moon.  Had to be.  It's what everyone's talking about. My sister-in-law and I had seen it together the night before, so it was fresh.  We were still excited. 

Side Note: I was a tad more excited than my sister-in-law was, but she was doing a pretty good job.  I almost had to Facebook Status Update in the middle of the movie, "My sister-in-law is ruining this for me," because she kept laughing throughout the movie, especially when all the rest of us we're sighing at great length or cat-calling at the sights before us. 

So anyway, we gots to talking about it, and very quickly we realized that anything Twilight related is gonna have to go on the list of "Things Not to Talk About"--right under religion, politics and s-e-x. 

Side Note: I love my mother-in-law to pieces, but she is one of those peeps that when you're watching a movie together and a s-e-x scene comes on, she goes and does laundry--even when she's at my house.  It's really cute.

So whilst my sister-in-law and I were replaying the New Moon events of the previous evening (mainly werewolf muscles), I ask my mother-in-law if she has read the Twilight series.  She's a librarian and reads for sport.  She knows a lot.  She basically responded that she read the first one, but couldn't get into it. 

Silence.  Awkward silence.

We just looked at her in amazement.  Then the librarian in her came out and she proceeded to break the story down and said, "It's all about control."

Silence. 

She went on to dissect Twilight (into tiny pieces) of how much control Edward has over Bella.  She didn't like that.

And then I just had to say stuff.  Look, I'm an English major (don't let the spelling errors and lack of grammar fool you) and I'm used to breaking down the words, and turning them inside out and reading between the lines and errrrrthang.  But come ON!

How about the love story part?!  Didn't that get you just a little?  How about the, I'll-do-anything-to-be-with-you-even-if-I-have-to-become-a-vampire part (A VAMPIRE)?!  Look, I'm not even into vampires.  I swear this.  My sister, who at the time had read each book six times each and seen the movie a-very lot, peer pressured me (we might've wrestled) for months to read the books.  She took me to the movie before I read the books and I was HOOKED--on the love story.  The intensity.  Edward. I couldn't get my hands on the books fast enough. All those books are an escape for us romantics. Heavy on the distraction. Heavy. It's not the blood and gore and fangs (cuz there's really not a lot of that going on--I didn't see one fang).  It's the looooove.  L-O-V-E. Shoot, I'd become a vampire for that. 

Control.  What??? What are you saying to me right now over the Snickerdoodle dough?!  You need to read that book again and get yourself distracted. Do you even realize what Edward sacrafices for Bella in the next book?  Control.  Pfffft.

So, we totally had to stop talking about it, pass the Vanilla Extract and move the conversation to safer ground, like what everybody was bringing for Thanksgiving. 


Recipe for Snickerdoodles:

http://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes.aspx/snickerdoodles/7ffc92a9-d847-4869-9ecb-99de3b751b14?modalclose=1

I Just Need To Be Irish Already

Okay, I can't just go see Michael Flatley's, Lord of the Dance and not talk about it.  That would make no sense in my world.  I would also like to show you a picture of my hubby that I cannot for the life of me find.  He does a fantastic impersonation of Michael Flatley.  He made the mistake of showing it to my family at Christmas one year--tie wrapped around his head, just a tap dancing, head flipping fool he was--and has never been able to live that sucker down.  I really think he'd leave me if I did put the pic on the blog.  So it's his lucky day.  Dang, it's really funny though.

Anyway! I've decided that I have missed yet another calling in my life--Irish dancing.  Yep.  Should've been born in Ireland and started Irish tap dancing at the age of two.  As soon as the lights go down and they cue the music--chills.  Everytime.  I also cry at such things.  Like--I can't even see the show, through my wet, wet, wetty-wet tears.  I just don't get that reaction, you know, when I'm helping my 3rd grader with double digit subtraction.  Or balancing the checkbook, or filling out real estate and insurance documents, or even making like the perfect meal (one where I catch my little ones licking their plates). Nope...no tears.  Not one little goose bump.  Ever. 

So my mom, sister and I got to see a bunch of amazing dancing the other night.  Cheesy, yes.  But the amazing-ness of it far outweighed the oh-my-gosh-that-was-so-cheesy.  All the women were beautiful--like too good to be true beautiful. Flipping Irish. It made me feel 83% better when I noticed that all of them had the long, shiny, fake, hair.  Good.  I needed something, cuz they were breath-taking, tiny and they had out-of-this-world legs!  Not only am I going to tap dance everywhere I go now...I will point my toes.  That should do it.

And the men--I had no idea I had a thang for tap dancing men. I surprise myself every single day. I couldn't even see faces from where we sat (fourth row from the tip top) and I was loving the boys a-very much.  That was my favorite part.

I don't really even know what was happening.  Something about a boy and a girl and a belt buckle.  I know there was good and evil, cuz there was happy sounding music and then there was sinister sounding music.  And there was happy, twirl-ey, leap-ey, tap dancing and really loud, I-am-so-mad-right-now, muscle-ey tap dancing. There were some masks and fake six-pack abs going on there too (which would have made the hubbs feel 83% better, had he been there, which he would not have been). The good and evil boys dueled--with tap shoes. There were "lightening arms" (as my sister likes to say) and punches in the air being thrown everywhere. At one point the bad boy got the belt buckle, and it was very sad. But before you knew it, they were tap dancing the crap out of each other again.  And I knew the bad boy lost, cuz he just layed down.  Apparently the good guy tapped so.fast. 

The boy got the girl too.  Cue the happy music. My sister said that the buckle had nothing to do with the boy and the girl, and that it wasn't a belt buckle, but a full on belt.  She's very serious when she tells me these things.  I have surely offended someone, by not getting it right, but you know, I was sitting pretty far.  And I was crying.


The Warriors
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmdiPKmji60

The Duel
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb-7k6h42TE

The Victory
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtIZosYYevg

I'll Take Two Peace On Earth's

For the last couple of years, we've drawn names for Christmas.  Our family is big, so it helps out in a big way in the cashola department, but it does take it up a notch in the thoughtfulness department.  Not that you wouldn't be thoughtful anyway, but now you have to be really thoughtful.  You've just added some time and effort in for a couple people, versus twenty.

This year, we got a bunch of boys.  I need some ideas.  We're buying for a couple of uncles down in California, a great grandpa, and a grandpa, so keep that in mind.  Before you say gift certificates, I would just like to say that I'd like to keep that as a Plan B.  Let's forget coffee mugs too.  And no 2 lb. beef sausages--though delicious--well, just no. Aaaaaand, now I'm clean out of ideas.  Please feel free to help a girl out and offer some good ones. Just tell me what you're getting your uncles in California, great grandpas and grandpas and I'll just copy.  Okay?

Let me tell you what I know about these people though.  The uncles in California, live in California.  The great grandpa is a veteran and loves all things WW2 related, BUT, he already has a ton of that stuff.  The grandpa only wants "peace on earth".  Now you know what I know.  Let the ideas roll in.  Send pictures if possible. (smile)

Now, if you're one of the lucky ones buying for me, I have a couple ideas to make your thoughtfulness 100% easier.  First on the list: C.G. Bigelow lip stuff at Bath & Body Works.  I'm addicted to it, so it's always a crowd pleaser.

Slipper socks. 

Those will do. And if you really, really just want to win my heart over, you can get me this:

I will let you. 

This is where you can find it: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=28600246

Or this one:

Found here: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=9512332

Or this delightful one:

Found here: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=32512321.

Or just any one of Johanna Wright's artwork found here (you pick):

 http://johannawright.com/store/

Because I found her and now I love her.

Or, you know, peace on earth also works. Now go.  You have things to do.

Thanks For That

Over in Facebookland, I've noticed lots of people updating their statuses with notes of thanks, to celebrate Thanksgiving.  That inspired me to come over here and brainstorm some things I am thankful for.  It's not everything, just what's in my head at this very moment.

*  I am thankful for good books that I can read at 3:00 a.m., to put me back to sleep after both kids of mine  wake me up for no good reason, except the fact that my bed is "better".  I think I'm going to splurge and buy them memory foam mattresses for Christmas.  Or for Thanksgiving.  Today.

* I am thankful for Monday, at 8:00 a.m., phone calls that request play dates with both kids of mine, right after school until 5:00.  What will I do with myself ALL DAY?  I will figure this out.

*I am thankful for a mom that calls me up to invite me to things, like "Lord of the Dance".   

*I am thankful for a 16-year-old brother who is poor and needs money, and will (happily) babysit (play Wii) my kids so I can go to things my mom invites me to.

*I am thankful for people that are 100% more organized than me that I can copy ideas from:  For instance, Christmas presents (Shannon)--see below:

and also for this person for what I'm making for dinner tonight--http://thematzats.blogspot.com/2009/01/chicken-and-dumplings.html. 

*I am thankful for my new My Touch, even though there's not a "snap your fingers and you're there/it's done/it's cleaned/it's cooked/you handled that splendidly" application, I'm sure it's in the works, because there is literally an application for everything else in there. Plus it's way fun.  Way.

*I am thankful for a hubby that will run to the store at the drop of a hat and get me clam chowder, bring the wrong clam chowder home and then go back to the store and get the right clam chowder, with minimal grumbling.

*I am thankful for my children, because I would be bored without them.  Well rested, but bored.

*I am thankful that in almost falling down the stairs this morning and spilling my coffee everywhere, and I do mean everywhere, that I didn't break my neck.

*I am thankful for Tivo.

*I am thankful for Jazzercise, because that sucker works.

*I am thankful for low-impact Jazzercise, especially when I almost fall down the stairs and I hurt a little now.

*I am thankful for pencils with erasers and "delete" keys, cuz I make all kinds of mistakes.  Every time.

*I am thankful you stopped by to read this today.  Please come back.

We're Dating

I had a date night last night with my soul  friend, Shannon.  Dinner, movie and drinks.  This girl is a good friend. See how I made it all bold and big?  That kind of good.  Emphasis. If you can swing it, find a friend that you have to emphasis the good in, every time you talk about them. Hard to do. She is totally the kind of friend that I can call up at 8:00 a.m. this past Wednesday and tell her I'm coming over with Egg McMuffins, kids (no school day) and The Notebook, still in the PJ's and everything, and without any hesitation she'll throw in, "hash browns too!"

I don't know how in the world the girl hadn't seen The Notebook yet, but I peer pressured her enough to sit on her couch, in the PJ's, with the furry blankets and watch it with me (thank you McDonald's).  She now totally agrees with me that it is the best love story of all time from start to finish.  Every look, every word--good.  We both let reality, otherwise known as the kiddos singing "Party in the USA" at the top of their lungs in the other room, slip away (you can go now) and let ourselves just be taken up with this movie.  We also agreed we couldn't watch it with the hubbs, poor guys just can't live up to Noah.  Who the flip can?  Somebody PLEASE look at me with that kind of intensity. That "I gotta have it!" determination.  That is just not fo' real.  Can't be. 

Wow.  How easily I get distracted over here in blogland!  Back to the blog! 

After the movie, we sadly pulled ourselves back into reality.  Given we started the movie at 8:30 a.m., we still had all day to grocery shop, clean a couple toilets, feed the kids and the dogs and shower.

Though Wednesday's don't usually happen like that (it was just a special thang), Fridays do.  I can usually count on seeing My Girl Shannon every Friday.  We meet and bop around together. We will drive long, out-of-our-way distances to find something good. We avoid the mall.  It has to be special and smell like Cinnamon Buns everywhere we go. We try to get creative, surprise each other.  We are so dating.






We managed to hang out all day together this past Friday and not spend a thing. This is kind of unheard of with us.  Our hubbs give us all kinds of grief over our ability to spend the money in a short amount of time. We could have degrees in this. For some reason, this Friday we both decided we have too much crap.  Or.  Or, the stores we frequent cannot keep their supply up with our demand.  That's probably more like it.

Something we don't do often is go out at night, just the two of us.  We've done it with the hubbs and kids in tow, but not just us.  So yesterday was extra special in that she and I basically only had two hours apart.  After our day out, we went home, made eye contact with the kids (kisskissmommalovesyouhavefunwithdaddytonightbegood) and the hubbs, and put on our "going out" clothes and hair. Which really isn't much different than our "running errands" clothes and hair. Basically, reapplied the deodorant and put the heels on.

We went to one of McMenamin's cozy little pubs.  Shannon and I agree we love the atmosphere McMenamin's tends to give off.  It's usually kind of dark and creaky, little lamps lighting your way, tasty beer, appetizers and the occasional ghost.  I will pick that over PF Chang's or Red Robin any day.  We basically commented over the deliciousness of our nut brown ales several times, amazingly found more things to talk about that we hadn't thought of the entire day we spent together, managed to talk about things other than the kids, and update our Facebook status. 

As for the movie, after discussing the pros and cons for the scary, the drama and the lame, we voted for funny. Couples Retreat it was. We heard good things. And it proved to be funny stuff.  But what was really funny to us, was that we were the only ones in the theater that didn't go see it with our significant other.  Wait, maybe that's not funny. No...it's funny.

We finished the night off finding another place to sit and talk about more stuff and have another beer.  We had to laugh at how proud The Boys would be of us having not one, but two "good" beers without having them actually there with us suggesting such things. 

I realize to you this blog post may seen like way too much random information. You're waiting for the punchline.  But in my head it is blogworthy.  The internet needs to know.  And that good friend o' mine.

 

Two For Flinching

I'm back.  I don't know how long, but I'm back for now.  It's been harder to get over here lately.  Life. 

I'm blogging at night, which is really strange, as I tend to do this in the morning, when I'm all fresh and rearing to go.  Honestly, the girls are at dance right now, my house is clean and stuff is ready for tomorrow--I just really want to go stretch out on the couch and watch Employee of the Month (a funny flick despite the fact that Jessica Simpson is in it--gag).  We hit on that the other night and almost got hooked on it, had we not already decided to watch another of Dane Cook's movies--Good Luck Chuck. I love that Dane Cook to pieces, but I don't know if I would recommend Good Luck Chuck.  Dane makes me laugh every time, but there is a lot of...skin.  A little much.  Pretty crude, a little socially unacceptable. TMI. But I was just thinking how great that must have been for Dane Cook to film all that...skin.  He twitters me and from his comments, I can tell he wasn't hating it.  Oh, btw, whilst we were Tivo-ing Employee of the Month and watching Good Luck Chuck, I got a twitter from Dane.  I'm not gonna lie--the boy twitters me all the flipping time! I think I've actually said, "It's Dane...again." Quite the coincidence all the Dane, huh?  But anyway...so yeah, you are up against my couch and Dane Cook right now and lookie--you're winning. 

Okay, what else? Something interesting...(taps fingers)...So, this is a first--I had a girls weekend about a month ago today (this makes me a little sad realizing this). This time last month, I was in Tucson with four of my best girlfriends from back in the day.  High School.  God Bless those High School years. This girlfriend getaway business, I totally recommend.  We laughed, y'all.  We laughed good. Symptoms included random stuff coming out of your nose, the inability to breathe normally, numerous facial muscles hurting, maybe a couple new wrinkles around the eyes and mouth,  and the use of stomach muscles you had no idea existed. That deep down laugh that will add days to your life, I'm sure of it.

And get this--we had the matching t-shirts--I know! It was that kind of getaway. We totally wore the t-shirts at the same time too, all matchy-match! We got pedicures, tattoos, we shared numerous pictures from when we had the big hair and the boyfriends.  Pre-everything.  We talked about everybody (yes you) and everything (yes that).  We drank and ate like champs. We went out, somewhere that had an oxygen bar in it and some other stuff. We danced. We watched the girl movies, them love stories that make you sigh in unison and cry like a baby. It felt good, y'all.  It felt so good. That kind of a good is a drug.  Something I went into total withdrawl from after I got home.  I crave those girls now. 

I do have something to remember it by though.  Tattoos. Two of them.  Dos.We all got ladybug tattoos on the top of our feet.  Depending on how many kids we had, that was the number of ladybugs we got. Piece of cake, right?  They are little, simple.  No.  NOPE. It hurt.  It really hurt.  I've never been so happy that I only had two kids, instead of four like some of us did that day. I had to find my happy place and do a little baby labor breathing.  To top it off, I'm a flincher.  I had no idea. I get an "A" in flinching. Despite the fact that I can't control such things, Mark (the tattoo artist) said bad words and looked at me like my dad used to when I did something a-really bad. So one of my ladybugs has a little "extra".  Mark was not pleased, cuz you know, he's an artist and perfection is a must.  He was so disappointed in me.  I totally let a brother down. But you know, maybe after the 5th little minor flinch...all these little flinching warnings I was giving him, he should've held my foot down better.  Just sayin'... It's okay, I love Mark.  I'll go back.  See, the funny thing is, even though that hurt like a mutha, I totally want another one.  What the heck?  I make no sense.

Well, I think you know some more stuff that you didn't know a few minutes ago.  More insight into the mystery that is me.  I'll try to get back here more often, cuz there's more.  So.much.more. For now to hold you over, a picture of my tattoos the day I got them. 

P.S. I *just* got a twitter from Dane.  No lie.