Merry whatever you do or don't celebrate! I realized today that I should just do my own version of that holiday classic "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" and switch it up to " Mommy Stepped Out In Front of Reindeer Coming Full Throttle At Her With A Sleigh Made of Steel." Too violent?
We are all ready for Santa. As I write this, I'm enjoying a nice tall glass of mercury. We have 2 substantial pieces of peanut butter cake and hummingbird cake out for his culinary enjoyment and a large glass of chocolate milk. I'm sure Santa would prefer a shot of tequila (what am I saying? Old boy wants the economy size bottle) but it's not happening this year. The tequila would just give him a headache. I did do Santa a solid by eating the frosting off of his cake. Didn't want the sugar to slow him down. He can thank me for saving him some empty calories by sending cash or a 97 year old man looking for an heir to his fortune. I kid!
The kids asked me today what I thought Ms. Claus did. I said that I can assure you Ms. Claus is totally running that operation, managing the Quik books and the elves schedule on the shared Google calendars. In addition to that, I'm sure she does the laundry, cleans the house, feeds the reindeer, and dispenses love advice to the reindeer and elves. Her job is never done. I'm sure she is texting Santa as we speak to remind him to remember to wipe his feet before he slides down the chimney and to CLOSE the door when he has to enter the house that way. Nope. Mrs. Claus is not propped up on the chaise watching "The Real Elf Wives of the North Pole." She probably told Rudolph right before take off that he will one day meet a reindeer that appreciates his beguiling charm and sparkly nose. She told Dasher not to hate the player, hate the game. Mrs. Claus is working it.
I'm running low on clever and wit so I'll give you my version of the 12 Days of Christmas along with my letter to Santa.
Dear Santa ,
You know I'm totally low maintenance but maybe I could have a smidge more fun in 2015? Ya know? Can't hurt to ask.
Love, Me
No one cares about the lords a leaping because someone probably tore an ACL in a celebration dance and gold rings are so 1987. The maids a milking? The French hens? They are probably discussing how obnoxious Americans are merci beau coup. No. I'll give you the random, suburban version.
12 Socks Not Matching
11 book reports unreported
10 bins of toys a dumped
9 naked cupcakes (I ate the frosting)
8 bells a hidden (whistles and bells must be hidden from the little peeps)
7 hours of Disney Jr
6 expletives whispered
5 hours of fighting
4 Legos leave you limping
3 screaming kids
2 pets a hiding
And a mom with a goblet who wants a reality show. Really. Why not?
Happy holidays! This was all written on my phone. Enjoy the typos and the enemy known as autocorrect.
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Oh this birthday eve......
I give you Leonardo DiCaprio, who left a club with not 1, not 2, not even 5 women. Old boy shattered the infamous black book and left with 20 models. What is Leo doing??? Slaying it!!!! (A term that makes me laugh out loud anytime I say or type it). Why yes that is 16 year old boy humor.
So, tomorrow I will be another year older. Another year wiser (that's actually subject to opinion). Another year... Well. Alive. Living. Happily living. And that my friends IS a wonderful thing.
Here's the abbreviated version of what happened since my last birthday for those of you who missed the Lifetime Movie version starring Jennie Garth. Ready????
Attempted to train then 3 yr old to poop on potty. Got trendy license plate. 2 weeks later totaled car so trendy license plate was deemed useless. Laugh hysterically. Got hybrid. Feel like bad a$$ being able to drive to Quebec on one tank of gas. Ok that's a stretch. Got an extra closet due to divorce. Hails to the yeah said my shoe collection! Took kids to Disney. Laugh hysterically. Have great respect for Animal Kingdom as they do it up right by offering a RhinoRita. Was overwhelmed by generosity and kindness on said trip. Felt the extended family needed to be water boarded and took family vacation to Dollywood. 4 yr old old has epic breakdown in candy store. Dr. Phil not available. Heat wave that week. Rode roller coasters. Did not puke. Attempt to train now 4 year old to poop on toilet. Come home from vacation to a dark green pool. Take selfie with the Loch Ness monster. Cat brings me dead snake. Laugh hysterically. Decide I must go on another vacation. Take kids back to Dollywood because I have season pass and I will get money's worth even if we all need to be institutionalized. Only cry once during trip because it's a waste of energy and my mascara is not waterproof. . Laugh hysterically. Kids start back to school. Survive science project. Tell 4 yr old he can go to kindergarten if he poops in potty. He gives me 2 finger salute. Survive book reports. Have blow out on highway during rush hour. Rescued by very nice gang members. Cat brings me dead squirrel. UGA loses to USC. Sigh. Cat brings me dead mouse. Manage not to pull hair out living with preteen girl. Boy Scouts start back. Boy Scout mothers still give me the eye. Laugh hysterically. Catch up with old friends. New friends offer support. I remind friends not to remind me of some of things I do and say at this juncture in my life. Have baby with Ryan Gosling. Oops. That was Eva Mendes. UGA loses to Florida. Watch season 7 of Curious George. Am starting to look forward to next episode. Wonder if Christian Bale would play Man in the Yellow Hat should this come to the big screen. Cat brings me dead wood pecker. Realize it's December. Sing along with crowd in Kohls to that Taylor Swift song. Wonder why I didn't end up on Broadway. 4 year old still pooping in pants. Am wondering if I should buy stock in Febreeze. Decide I'm going to get myself cake AND 2 flavors of ice cream for my birthday. Let kids help but I make final decision. Why? Because I can. And I got a hazelnut cream cake with cream cheese frosting. YAY!
There ya go. The year in a nutshell. Best presents are my 3 kids, my dog, cat, family and wonderful friends. I swear I'm sashaying my way to normal. Whatever that is. The sashay and you know....normal.
Yep. Happy Birthday to me! I'm thankful for another day and I WILL enjoy it.
Xoxo
So, tomorrow I will be another year older. Another year wiser (that's actually subject to opinion). Another year... Well. Alive. Living. Happily living. And that my friends IS a wonderful thing.
Here's the abbreviated version of what happened since my last birthday for those of you who missed the Lifetime Movie version starring Jennie Garth. Ready????
Attempted to train then 3 yr old to poop on potty. Got trendy license plate. 2 weeks later totaled car so trendy license plate was deemed useless. Laugh hysterically. Got hybrid. Feel like bad a$$ being able to drive to Quebec on one tank of gas. Ok that's a stretch. Got an extra closet due to divorce. Hails to the yeah said my shoe collection! Took kids to Disney. Laugh hysterically. Have great respect for Animal Kingdom as they do it up right by offering a RhinoRita. Was overwhelmed by generosity and kindness on said trip. Felt the extended family needed to be water boarded and took family vacation to Dollywood. 4 yr old old has epic breakdown in candy store. Dr. Phil not available. Heat wave that week. Rode roller coasters. Did not puke. Attempt to train now 4 year old to poop on toilet. Come home from vacation to a dark green pool. Take selfie with the Loch Ness monster. Cat brings me dead snake. Laugh hysterically. Decide I must go on another vacation. Take kids back to Dollywood because I have season pass and I will get money's worth even if we all need to be institutionalized. Only cry once during trip because it's a waste of energy and my mascara is not waterproof. . Laugh hysterically. Kids start back to school. Survive science project. Tell 4 yr old he can go to kindergarten if he poops in potty. He gives me 2 finger salute. Survive book reports. Have blow out on highway during rush hour. Rescued by very nice gang members. Cat brings me dead squirrel. UGA loses to USC. Sigh. Cat brings me dead mouse. Manage not to pull hair out living with preteen girl. Boy Scouts start back. Boy Scout mothers still give me the eye. Laugh hysterically. Catch up with old friends. New friends offer support. I remind friends not to remind me of some of things I do and say at this juncture in my life. Have baby with Ryan Gosling. Oops. That was Eva Mendes. UGA loses to Florida. Watch season 7 of Curious George. Am starting to look forward to next episode. Wonder if Christian Bale would play Man in the Yellow Hat should this come to the big screen. Cat brings me dead wood pecker. Realize it's December. Sing along with crowd in Kohls to that Taylor Swift song. Wonder why I didn't end up on Broadway. 4 year old still pooping in pants. Am wondering if I should buy stock in Febreeze. Decide I'm going to get myself cake AND 2 flavors of ice cream for my birthday. Let kids help but I make final decision. Why? Because I can. And I got a hazelnut cream cake with cream cheese frosting. YAY!
There ya go. The year in a nutshell. Best presents are my 3 kids, my dog, cat, family and wonderful friends. I swear I'm sashaying my way to normal. Whatever that is. The sashay and you know....normal.
Yep. Happy Birthday to me! I'm thankful for another day and I WILL enjoy it.
Xoxo
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Gobble, Gobble
Happy Thanksgiving! I'm a big believer that we should be thankful every day- not just one day a year. So here are a few things I'm thankful for. Ready? On your mark , get set, go!
1) I'm thankful for such wonderful, funny, generous kids. Shhhhh. Confession. I totally relate to my boys and I admit I was terrified of having a daughter. What would I do with her? Yes, I like clothes and shoes, but will she love football? Will she have a raucous sense of humor like her mother? What if she likes pink? I'm working on some of those things. She keeps me on my toes and I'm so lucky to have her. My oldest son is such a sweet boy and my little one is a firecracker. Literally. I could blame him for the nail in the coffin in formerly cute stomach, but in reality I can also blame Taco Bell for having Volcano nachos while pregnant with him. Perhaps I can make a break for the border for a tummy tuck ?
2) I'm thankful for wide calf boots. I have freakishly large calves and sometimes the regulars don't zip up. Kindness. Generosity. Pleasant surprises. Love all 4.
3) I'm thankful for sushi, skittles, gobstoppers , good coffee, gelato, and almond joys. Margaritas. Yes. Good margaritas.
4) 2 letters-DQ
5) I have really good friends. For the love of God, these people listen to me prattle on about a bunch of nonsense and lie to my face and say,"T, you are perfectly fine."I love you. I do. I would totally dedicate a hair metal song to you like something by Extreme . Perhaps "More Than Words." You people "Kickstart My Heart" and remind me that "Somebody Shake Me " out of my neurosis. All of you-even if you don't want me to. Love means never having to say you are sorry, right? Did I just quote one of the worst movies ever. Yeah, I'm talking about you "Love Story." Heaven isn't too far away. Closer to it every day. At least according to those dudes in Warrant- well, the ones still with us.
And the rapid fire thanks goes to: jeans with 1 % spandex, fantastic x in laws (a bonus when the marriage bombs), cute guys. (Granted I don't think many are cute but the ones I do.... Sigh), electricity (sukks trying to put your contacts in or dry your hair without it), flannel sheets, expletives, lip balm, football, dogs that sit on your feet, anti frizz serum, glasses (those things that help me see), bad music (Demi Lovato sounds better in the car), good music ( this would be subjective ) , dental floss, frozen yogurt, room spray that covers the smell of poop, Christian Bale, when I don't get the evil eye at Boy Scouts, capes (the cool kind like you see equestrians wear in the Scottish countryside), air conditioners, heaters, Ed Norton, compliments ( I need to STFU and just say "thanks!"), deer in my yard, clean laundry, laughter, friends with "ad " in their name, self deprecating humor, Momo, tequila, warped humor (and it gets more warped with tequila), toilets that don't over flow, low traffic days, and sarcasm. What on earth would I do without my friend sarcasm? I'll tell you. I would be huddled in the corner listening to Barry Manilow eating cookie dough even though the package insinuates your organs will shut down if you eat it raw. F you cookie dough police. Please. Live on the edge.
1) I'm thankful for such wonderful, funny, generous kids. Shhhhh. Confession. I totally relate to my boys and I admit I was terrified of having a daughter. What would I do with her? Yes, I like clothes and shoes, but will she love football? Will she have a raucous sense of humor like her mother? What if she likes pink? I'm working on some of those things. She keeps me on my toes and I'm so lucky to have her. My oldest son is such a sweet boy and my little one is a firecracker. Literally. I could blame him for the nail in the coffin in formerly cute stomach, but in reality I can also blame Taco Bell for having Volcano nachos while pregnant with him. Perhaps I can make a break for the border for a tummy tuck ?
2) I'm thankful for wide calf boots. I have freakishly large calves and sometimes the regulars don't zip up. Kindness. Generosity. Pleasant surprises. Love all 4.
3) I'm thankful for sushi, skittles, gobstoppers , good coffee, gelato, and almond joys. Margaritas. Yes. Good margaritas.
4) 2 letters-DQ
5) I have really good friends. For the love of God, these people listen to me prattle on about a bunch of nonsense and lie to my face and say,"T, you are perfectly fine."I love you. I do. I would totally dedicate a hair metal song to you like something by Extreme . Perhaps "More Than Words." You people "Kickstart My Heart" and remind me that "Somebody Shake Me " out of my neurosis. All of you-even if you don't want me to. Love means never having to say you are sorry, right? Did I just quote one of the worst movies ever. Yeah, I'm talking about you "Love Story." Heaven isn't too far away. Closer to it every day. At least according to those dudes in Warrant- well, the ones still with us.
And the rapid fire thanks goes to: jeans with 1 % spandex, fantastic x in laws (a bonus when the marriage bombs), cute guys. (Granted I don't think many are cute but the ones I do.... Sigh), electricity (sukks trying to put your contacts in or dry your hair without it), flannel sheets, expletives, lip balm, football, dogs that sit on your feet, anti frizz serum, glasses (those things that help me see), bad music (Demi Lovato sounds better in the car), good music ( this would be subjective ) , dental floss, frozen yogurt, room spray that covers the smell of poop, Christian Bale, when I don't get the evil eye at Boy Scouts, capes (the cool kind like you see equestrians wear in the Scottish countryside), air conditioners, heaters, Ed Norton, compliments ( I need to STFU and just say "thanks!"), deer in my yard, clean laundry, laughter, friends with "ad " in their name, self deprecating humor, Momo, tequila, warped humor (and it gets more warped with tequila), toilets that don't over flow, low traffic days, and sarcasm. What on earth would I do without my friend sarcasm? I'll tell you. I would be huddled in the corner listening to Barry Manilow eating cookie dough even though the package insinuates your organs will shut down if you eat it raw. F you cookie dough police. Please. Live on the edge.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
If You Are Going To Be A Little Nutty, At Least Be the Peter Pan Extra Crunchy Peanut Butter
^^^^^Amen, baby! I mean, comparatively speaking, I think I'm really normal. And boring. However, I admit I'm processing some stuff. So, if you feel a little nutty, at least be something worthy. I certainly don't consider myself something mundane like a peanut M&M. Or one of those chocolate covered almonds. Boo! Absolutely not! I am a bona fide Almond Joy.
So, sssshhhhhh. I have a few confessions to make. I write my deepest, thoughts and feelings on a blog (yeah, not this one). I'm actually very popular on said blog. Do you see me? I'm waving my arms up and down because I am a dork, so to be perceived as popular anywhere is really something. People actually quote me on this blog and some days I get over 3000 views. And do you know what I think? Holy caca! These peeps must be in deep do-do to quote me and look to me for guidance. But then I remember that I'm good at giving advice to others. To myself? Oh I'm good at the "make sure you brush and floss 3 times a day, never let them see you sweat (thanks Sexy Intrigue deodorant), wear clean underwear" kind of advice to myself. I have these people message me crazy questions and say they have been waiting for me to chime in on their situation. Whaaaaaat? Really? And I can be so brutal with some of these folks. I took that sour patch kid sugar right off to myself as well. Maybe I need my own advice column or talk show?
I have insomnia. It's much better than those crazy night terrors which I have not had as of late. Those things freak EVERYBODY out when they happen. No, insomnia is more of an exclusive club. Welcome to Insomnia where the wakers wake. You have people text you at 3 am with things like, "I know you are up so who when was George Clooney on the "Facts of Life?" or "can you send me the link to the "what flavor ice cream are you?" quiz. Yes, I am still serving a purpose to someone. As I was standing in my kitchen this morning at 2:15 am eating Nestle Quik out of the container (you read that right. Just the powder. No milk. With a spoon-Hello! I do have table manners.) while wearing my "Property of the University of Georgia Athletic Department" hoodie (you must always represent-even while hovered over the box of Quik) and sweatpants where the a$$ hangs down to the knees, and listening to One Direction (no shame), I thought, "Wtf am I doing? Why am I not asleep like the cat? Why is the dog on my pillow?" And then I realize that I can sleep when I'm dead. I'll just keep thinking, writing, and one of those epiphanies will hit when I least expect it....probably when I am eating frosting straight out of the container. Fight the inner fat girl!!!!
One last confession.....well a few. I dye my hair. Ok, so that one isn't a shock. I cut my nails with scissors. Many days, I think it would be awesome to be a guy. I'm not afraid to make an a$$ of myself-I do it at least once a day. In general, I'm really granola. I hate anything pretentious. I have on a belt right now that is literally cutting off my blood circulation and I am about 3 seconds from having to breath in a paper bag as a result of said belt. I ate ice cream for lunch. I love compliments but I never know how to respond, so I generally tell people to "STOP saying that!" I love to watch my kids sleep, which is great because I'm always up. I love to sing Def Leopard in the shower. I totally missed my calling as a Broadway performer. I hate washing my hair-if I ever become wealthy, I will pay someone else to do that. Don't get nervous, I wash it. I just said I don't enjoy it. I secretly love a good karma sighting. Sometimes, I drink the milk straight from the container. Does that disgust you? No worries. I won't invite you over to share.
Spirit fingers to my peeps!
So, sssshhhhhh. I have a few confessions to make. I write my deepest, thoughts and feelings on a blog (yeah, not this one). I'm actually very popular on said blog. Do you see me? I'm waving my arms up and down because I am a dork, so to be perceived as popular anywhere is really something. People actually quote me on this blog and some days I get over 3000 views. And do you know what I think? Holy caca! These peeps must be in deep do-do to quote me and look to me for guidance. But then I remember that I'm good at giving advice to others. To myself? Oh I'm good at the "make sure you brush and floss 3 times a day, never let them see you sweat (thanks Sexy Intrigue deodorant), wear clean underwear" kind of advice to myself. I have these people message me crazy questions and say they have been waiting for me to chime in on their situation. Whaaaaaat? Really? And I can be so brutal with some of these folks. I took that sour patch kid sugar right off to myself as well. Maybe I need my own advice column or talk show?
I have insomnia. It's much better than those crazy night terrors which I have not had as of late. Those things freak EVERYBODY out when they happen. No, insomnia is more of an exclusive club. Welcome to Insomnia where the wakers wake. You have people text you at 3 am with things like, "I know you are up so who when was George Clooney on the "Facts of Life?" or "can you send me the link to the "what flavor ice cream are you?" quiz. Yes, I am still serving a purpose to someone. As I was standing in my kitchen this morning at 2:15 am eating Nestle Quik out of the container (you read that right. Just the powder. No milk. With a spoon-Hello! I do have table manners.) while wearing my "Property of the University of Georgia Athletic Department" hoodie (you must always represent-even while hovered over the box of Quik) and sweatpants where the a$$ hangs down to the knees, and listening to One Direction (no shame), I thought, "Wtf am I doing? Why am I not asleep like the cat? Why is the dog on my pillow?" And then I realize that I can sleep when I'm dead. I'll just keep thinking, writing, and one of those epiphanies will hit when I least expect it....probably when I am eating frosting straight out of the container. Fight the inner fat girl!!!!
One last confession.....well a few. I dye my hair. Ok, so that one isn't a shock. I cut my nails with scissors. Many days, I think it would be awesome to be a guy. I'm not afraid to make an a$$ of myself-I do it at least once a day. In general, I'm really granola. I hate anything pretentious. I have on a belt right now that is literally cutting off my blood circulation and I am about 3 seconds from having to breath in a paper bag as a result of said belt. I ate ice cream for lunch. I love compliments but I never know how to respond, so I generally tell people to "STOP saying that!" I love to watch my kids sleep, which is great because I'm always up. I love to sing Def Leopard in the shower. I totally missed my calling as a Broadway performer. I hate washing my hair-if I ever become wealthy, I will pay someone else to do that. Don't get nervous, I wash it. I just said I don't enjoy it. I secretly love a good karma sighting. Sometimes, I drink the milk straight from the container. Does that disgust you? No worries. I won't invite you over to share.
Spirit fingers to my peeps!
Monday, November 24, 2014
I Want To Know What You're Thinking.....No, You Really Don't
That headline would be a salute to that one hit wonder from the 80s, the Information Society. In the words of Greg Brady, clowns never laughed before, and beanstalks never grew. Ponies never ran til I met you...uh yeah. Whatevs. I just had that song stuck in my head because I am such a huge fan of the Brady Bunch. Get ready for moi to ramble, because it's my blog and I can do what I want to do...
So, I had a teacher tell me once that there are only 2 guarantees in life-death and taxes. However, I beg to differ. It always rains when I straighten my hair. If I wear a white shirt, you can bet that a sharpie will chase me down or a mysterious ketchup bottle (even if I am not in the vicinity of ketchup) will explode on said shirt. If I have to pee, traffic will be bad. And I am at a fork. A very strange place indeed. I don't think this fork is stainless steel but rather plastic, and I have to pick a prong. Or maybe the prong picks me. But I am in a weird place and I must work through this. I can attribute it to being quirky, but not this stuff. It's a little bigger and deeper and probably correlates to another issue, and I can't really discuss this issue with anyone. So, I'm sure my subconscious will help me forge through. It is this pervasive, overwhelming feeling and I am not used to dealing with those. Is everyone thoroughly confused? Excellent! I'm glad I can help you there. I am confusing if I am anything at this juncture, but at least I look quasi decent in my array of fall boots.
The holiday season is upon us....YAY! Have I told you I'm not really a fan of the holidays? It doesn't matter though because my kids love them and well, I make sacrifices for them. We did have our house fully decorated for Halloween on August 29th (side eye to you slackers who waited until October to get those bats and goblins up) and our Elf on the Shelf, Miss Twinkle Lulu, will probably make a grand entrance this week. Perhaps she will show up at the Golden Corral on Thanksgiving (the tradition continues with the non-traditionalist). Maybe she will be swimming in the chocolate fountain? Can I expect to see her hanging Cirque du Soleil style over the mac & cheese??? One tree is up and inflatables are in the front yard. Can Santa help me through my issue? Maybe I need to write a letter to Santa?
Dear Santa,
Are you there Santa? It's me-no, it's not Margaret. That was a Judy Blume book. Help a sister out and put me back on the normal train. This detour is leaving me....flummoxed. Yes, sir I did pull out a word I haven't used in a while. Give the reindeer my love and tell Mrs, Claus that she should invest in a pair of skinny jeans. They do make you feel sexay, until your organs permanently shift to a new location.
P.S. Please don't send UGA to the Liberty Bowl.
Love,
Me
I wasn't funny in this one, no? It's cathartic for me to write. Gobble, gobble.
So, I had a teacher tell me once that there are only 2 guarantees in life-death and taxes. However, I beg to differ. It always rains when I straighten my hair. If I wear a white shirt, you can bet that a sharpie will chase me down or a mysterious ketchup bottle (even if I am not in the vicinity of ketchup) will explode on said shirt. If I have to pee, traffic will be bad. And I am at a fork. A very strange place indeed. I don't think this fork is stainless steel but rather plastic, and I have to pick a prong. Or maybe the prong picks me. But I am in a weird place and I must work through this. I can attribute it to being quirky, but not this stuff. It's a little bigger and deeper and probably correlates to another issue, and I can't really discuss this issue with anyone. So, I'm sure my subconscious will help me forge through. It is this pervasive, overwhelming feeling and I am not used to dealing with those. Is everyone thoroughly confused? Excellent! I'm glad I can help you there. I am confusing if I am anything at this juncture, but at least I look quasi decent in my array of fall boots.
The holiday season is upon us....YAY! Have I told you I'm not really a fan of the holidays? It doesn't matter though because my kids love them and well, I make sacrifices for them. We did have our house fully decorated for Halloween on August 29th (side eye to you slackers who waited until October to get those bats and goblins up) and our Elf on the Shelf, Miss Twinkle Lulu, will probably make a grand entrance this week. Perhaps she will show up at the Golden Corral on Thanksgiving (the tradition continues with the non-traditionalist). Maybe she will be swimming in the chocolate fountain? Can I expect to see her hanging Cirque du Soleil style over the mac & cheese??? One tree is up and inflatables are in the front yard. Can Santa help me through my issue? Maybe I need to write a letter to Santa?
Dear Santa,
Are you there Santa? It's me-no, it's not Margaret. That was a Judy Blume book. Help a sister out and put me back on the normal train. This detour is leaving me....flummoxed. Yes, sir I did pull out a word I haven't used in a while. Give the reindeer my love and tell Mrs, Claus that she should invest in a pair of skinny jeans. They do make you feel sexay, until your organs permanently shift to a new location.
P.S. Please don't send UGA to the Liberty Bowl.
Love,
Me
I wasn't funny in this one, no? It's cathartic for me to write. Gobble, gobble.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
So, What's Wrong With You?
As I am sure we can all tell, I have a self deprecating sense of humor. It keeps me sane amongst a mountain of non matching socks and those freaking annoying science projects. I'm a horrible dater. I can't take a compliment-although I do love to give them. I'm fine if I don't like the person or am not attracted to them which is 99% of the time. I actually sat across from a guy who said "Let's chat more to see if we have chemistry." Internally I was thinking "we don't" but I just smiled and nodded for a bit. So how in h-e-double hockey sticks do I act if I think someone is attractive? Do I act like a 14 year old girl at a One Direction concert? No. Absolutely not. I'm raising 3 kids. I didn't take pain killers after surgery. I have a high maintenance daughter. I clean up a bunch of caca. I survive those weekly Boy Scout meetings. I've been a National Sales trainer. I worked at an alleged fancy, schmancy sexay start up company. Surely, I can talk to someone cute...right????? Ed Norton, I'm waiving and blowing kisses at you!
Listen, the lesson I have learned over the course of my life is if you are going to totally and completely embarrass yourself, do it up right! So, a few months ago I noticed this guy occasionally in the lobby of my building. I actually thought he was kind of hot. He looked very serious (darn those intense folk) so I was wondering how might I find out about this guy. We will just call him HG (hot guy). Let me put on my clever hat. I thought about asking the lady at the info desk and then I wondered how that would go down. "Hi lady at info desk. I know we don't know each other but sometimes there is this really cute dude hanging out here, and well I thought I would just ask if you knew his name." Nope. Couldn't do that. Then, I figured out that I saw him on a certain day of the week. So don't laugh but what do you do on that day? That's right! You wear the tightest a$$ dress you can find and try to sashay by and smile at him. And I did smile at him and he didn't smile back. What the pho?? How can you not smile back? I do have a good smile. HG must not think I'm cute and sadly, I still thought he was cute. Bummer. Actually, I thought he must not like chicks with a giant booty! Booty haters!
Anyhoo, fast forward.....so I joined another one of those dating sites. You know the ones where they expect you to write a crock about yourself. "Hi, I'm Tara and I enjoy long walks on the beach, sky diving, and poetry under the stars. I enjoy discussing the celebrity sleaze-scratch that- I mean I enjoy debating the movement of the Ebola virus." You get the picture. Mine is more "skip the lines and just be funny." After writing all of these profiles for others (you guys know who you are!), surely this will be a breeze for me. The writing part was okay. Now what? Anyway, I scan the folks on the site and see one guy I went to college with (Hi J!!!) and then a guy that sort of looks like HG. But I can't really tell if it's him. Because I can't really remember what his face looks like because I had to be so coy when I walked by. Fast forward, he asked where I worked and he said he knew who I was. Omg. That was him. So, does this mean that I have to speak to him now? He said, " do you wanna say hi in person?" Good lord! Is he crazy? I just thought he was hot and I didn't know I would have to speak to him at some point. There has to be something wrong with this guy because again, I am a walking set of luggage.
Have I ever told you guys that I am such a smooth operator (key up Sade!) So what do you do when someone wants to meet in a parking deck to say hi? That's right. You blow right past them because you think you are going to pass out. But I did it. It was a little shaky. I mean I thought I was gonna hurl but I didn't. Baby steps....baby steps.....Maybe one day I will be normal. Whatever that is. Maybe my next t-shirt will define that for me.
Listen, the lesson I have learned over the course of my life is if you are going to totally and completely embarrass yourself, do it up right! So, a few months ago I noticed this guy occasionally in the lobby of my building. I actually thought he was kind of hot. He looked very serious (darn those intense folk) so I was wondering how might I find out about this guy. We will just call him HG (hot guy). Let me put on my clever hat. I thought about asking the lady at the info desk and then I wondered how that would go down. "Hi lady at info desk. I know we don't know each other but sometimes there is this really cute dude hanging out here, and well I thought I would just ask if you knew his name." Nope. Couldn't do that. Then, I figured out that I saw him on a certain day of the week. So don't laugh but what do you do on that day? That's right! You wear the tightest a$$ dress you can find and try to sashay by and smile at him. And I did smile at him and he didn't smile back. What the pho?? How can you not smile back? I do have a good smile. HG must not think I'm cute and sadly, I still thought he was cute. Bummer. Actually, I thought he must not like chicks with a giant booty! Booty haters!
Anyhoo, fast forward.....so I joined another one of those dating sites. You know the ones where they expect you to write a crock about yourself. "Hi, I'm Tara and I enjoy long walks on the beach, sky diving, and poetry under the stars. I enjoy discussing the celebrity sleaze-scratch that- I mean I enjoy debating the movement of the Ebola virus." You get the picture. Mine is more "skip the lines and just be funny." After writing all of these profiles for others (you guys know who you are!), surely this will be a breeze for me. The writing part was okay. Now what? Anyway, I scan the folks on the site and see one guy I went to college with (Hi J!!!) and then a guy that sort of looks like HG. But I can't really tell if it's him. Because I can't really remember what his face looks like because I had to be so coy when I walked by. Fast forward, he asked where I worked and he said he knew who I was. Omg. That was him. So, does this mean that I have to speak to him now? He said, " do you wanna say hi in person?" Good lord! Is he crazy? I just thought he was hot and I didn't know I would have to speak to him at some point. There has to be something wrong with this guy because again, I am a walking set of luggage.
Have I ever told you guys that I am such a smooth operator (key up Sade!) So what do you do when someone wants to meet in a parking deck to say hi? That's right. You blow right past them because you think you are going to pass out. But I did it. It was a little shaky. I mean I thought I was gonna hurl but I didn't. Baby steps....baby steps.....Maybe one day I will be normal. Whatever that is. Maybe my next t-shirt will define that for me.
I Ain't No Holla Back Girl-Hit Me With Your Best Shot-Haters Gonna Hate
OMG! It has been forever since I have posted. And the best part is that I am super caffeinated so we can all enjoy a laugh at the crazy that is my life. Would you like cream and sugar? Cause I may be short on the sugah:)
I would post a pic of myself in some Kim Kardashian custom made shorts but I want you to keep reading. So, let me give you a brief rundown of the last year or so...I lost 235 (divorce not gastric bypass), Liam still poops in his pants (each week at Boy Scouts), and the older 2 play hoops (LeBron-you have no competition). I have the best X-ILs in the world (and I wish my ex peace) and my dog thinks I am the shizzle. Seriously. He is always happy to see me even though he has been terribly expensive as of late. Perhaps it's time for him to get cast in one of those "Kibbles & Bits" commercials. I have always tried to do the right thing and admittedly, it has been a challenge. I'm healthy, pretty darn happy, have a great job, 3 fantastic kids, and wonderful friends and family who have listened to me laugh, occasionally cry, and encouraged me not to close the freezer door on my head those days when I get frustrated. Really. It doesn't get much better than my life and I am blessed in every facet. My only regret is that since I'm single I wish I had gotten a tummy tuck post 3rd kid. Yes, Liam, you are lucky you are cute but I blame you for muscle separation.
I have been working hard to live an authentic, honest life with no regrets. How am I doing? I have no clue. I don't know what I'm giving off, but I am just freaking flooded with kindness and I am very grateful. Peeps mow my yard. Random strangers buy my stuff. Buy my kids toys. At Disney, someone bought our dinner. Someone paid for my oil change. Boom! Living right....maybe? My kids actually think that it's good to hang out with me because "we don't know what we will get." And I have been hit on a lot! (English wizards, if you are reading then I want you to know that I know the term "a lot" is a violation of good use of the English language. Cut a sister some slack!) 20 year olds (no thanks-not interested in students, but I do appreciate the free drinks at the QT!!!) all the way to 70 year olds (no thanks to you either but I hear men are a hot ticket at the assisted living home. Allegedly there are like 5 chicks to every dude.) Some guy came up to me at Starbucks and asked if he could read my necklace. I'll just tell you what it says-don't touch it- thanks! But what this all leaves me with is....what am I like right now? Should I become a cat lady? Should I start drinking coffee at dinner and knitting? No, I really like guys too much for that. I mean, I have no problem meeting guys but I have to meet some I like. How do I do that?? Do they exist? Are they like Big Foot and only exist on Animal Planet?
I'm smart. I'm funny. I have a kick booty Wonderlic score which hasn't led to any NFL signing bonuses. I'm fiercely independent. I'm kind of cute. But for the love of googly, I don't have baggage, I have a freaking set of designer luggage. And in the spirit of candor, there is a greater chance that a kangaroo will knock on your door (unless you are in Australia) than me being attracted to someone. Some days I so wish I was a guy. Don't they supposedly like everyone and everything? I kid:) And I so don't know how to act when I meet someone I'm attracted to which brings me to......
I would post a pic of myself in some Kim Kardashian custom made shorts but I want you to keep reading. So, let me give you a brief rundown of the last year or so...I lost 235 (divorce not gastric bypass), Liam still poops in his pants (each week at Boy Scouts), and the older 2 play hoops (LeBron-you have no competition). I have the best X-ILs in the world (and I wish my ex peace) and my dog thinks I am the shizzle. Seriously. He is always happy to see me even though he has been terribly expensive as of late. Perhaps it's time for him to get cast in one of those "Kibbles & Bits" commercials. I have always tried to do the right thing and admittedly, it has been a challenge. I'm healthy, pretty darn happy, have a great job, 3 fantastic kids, and wonderful friends and family who have listened to me laugh, occasionally cry, and encouraged me not to close the freezer door on my head those days when I get frustrated. Really. It doesn't get much better than my life and I am blessed in every facet. My only regret is that since I'm single I wish I had gotten a tummy tuck post 3rd kid. Yes, Liam, you are lucky you are cute but I blame you for muscle separation.
I have been working hard to live an authentic, honest life with no regrets. How am I doing? I have no clue. I don't know what I'm giving off, but I am just freaking flooded with kindness and I am very grateful. Peeps mow my yard. Random strangers buy my stuff. Buy my kids toys. At Disney, someone bought our dinner. Someone paid for my oil change. Boom! Living right....maybe? My kids actually think that it's good to hang out with me because "we don't know what we will get." And I have been hit on a lot! (English wizards, if you are reading then I want you to know that I know the term "a lot" is a violation of good use of the English language. Cut a sister some slack!) 20 year olds (no thanks-not interested in students, but I do appreciate the free drinks at the QT!!!) all the way to 70 year olds (no thanks to you either but I hear men are a hot ticket at the assisted living home. Allegedly there are like 5 chicks to every dude.) Some guy came up to me at Starbucks and asked if he could read my necklace. I'll just tell you what it says-don't touch it- thanks! But what this all leaves me with is....what am I like right now? Should I become a cat lady? Should I start drinking coffee at dinner and knitting? No, I really like guys too much for that. I mean, I have no problem meeting guys but I have to meet some I like. How do I do that?? Do they exist? Are they like Big Foot and only exist on Animal Planet?
I'm smart. I'm funny. I have a kick booty Wonderlic score which hasn't led to any NFL signing bonuses. I'm fiercely independent. I'm kind of cute. But for the love of googly, I don't have baggage, I have a freaking set of designer luggage. And in the spirit of candor, there is a greater chance that a kangaroo will knock on your door (unless you are in Australia) than me being attracted to someone. Some days I so wish I was a guy. Don't they supposedly like everyone and everything? I kid:) And I so don't know how to act when I meet someone I'm attracted to which brings me to......
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
I Wish I Could Say I Won the Lottery
Nope, more like a crap sandwich. Maybe one that is the size of 10 football fields. Does Subway market those?Lots of stuff going on in life-car accident, phone rolled in cup of coffee, and some work on life just to name a few. I'm learning more and more about patience and that is something I need to learn.
On May 15th, I decided to visit my dad in the hospital. He was in ICU after a routine procedure. They said he would probably only be there 24 hours tops. I had this epic knot in my stomach and when I got to the hospital, it was past ICU visiting hours. However, the nurses told my brother that I had driven 3 hours so they let me see my Dad. And what I saw, broke my heart. He was on a ventilator and they had removed him from restraints. His monitor started beeping fast when he saw me and his eyes lit up. I was on the verge of tears but I didn't want to upset him. My Dad always hated seeing me cry. He was trying to talk to me but couldn't, so I told him the kids were great and loved him so much. Just like I did.
The nurse told me he was doing well but it didn't feel that way. I took my mom home and 3 hours later we came back for the last visitation of the day. A new nurse stopped us and told us he wasn't doing well at all. His blood pressure was dropping and they thought he may have an infection. I called my brother and niece to come back, and we all huddled in the room. We told him what a great Dad he was and Grandfather he was and my niece would ask if he was in pain. It was devastating to watch him want to talk to us but not be able to do so. I just told him how wonderful he was and that I was lucky to have him as my Dad.
I thought he might go in the middle of the night but they commented on what a fighter he was. Still, his organs were shutting down and when I held his hand it was cold. The doctor told us there was nothing that could be done, so we just watched and waited. And at 10:40 May 16th, he was gone.
My Dad worked many hours when I was growing up, and I would run to the door when he got home. I loved it when he let me spray shaving cream out in the sink and how he let me blow dry my hair (a no no according to my Mom because I had grown up hair and it made me look too old). Every morning I would tell him how much I loved him. He rescued injured birds with me, watched football with me, laughed at me, and was my biggest cheerleader. He always said I had my caca together. He said I could do anything I wanted. I miss him so much. So does my daughter.
At this point in my life, my caca is anything but together. And geez, I would like to wave a wand and magically make everything wonderful, but alas life doesn't work that way. It's a process with many unknowns and who knows where you end? I don't, but I'm committed to doing and being the best person I can. I need to shut up and listen. Something I struggle with often. Being right doesn't matter unless you are on Jeopardy. I feel kind of lost right now, so I guess I will follow the bread crumbs..... as soon I find them.
X
On May 15th, I decided to visit my dad in the hospital. He was in ICU after a routine procedure. They said he would probably only be there 24 hours tops. I had this epic knot in my stomach and when I got to the hospital, it was past ICU visiting hours. However, the nurses told my brother that I had driven 3 hours so they let me see my Dad. And what I saw, broke my heart. He was on a ventilator and they had removed him from restraints. His monitor started beeping fast when he saw me and his eyes lit up. I was on the verge of tears but I didn't want to upset him. My Dad always hated seeing me cry. He was trying to talk to me but couldn't, so I told him the kids were great and loved him so much. Just like I did.
The nurse told me he was doing well but it didn't feel that way. I took my mom home and 3 hours later we came back for the last visitation of the day. A new nurse stopped us and told us he wasn't doing well at all. His blood pressure was dropping and they thought he may have an infection. I called my brother and niece to come back, and we all huddled in the room. We told him what a great Dad he was and Grandfather he was and my niece would ask if he was in pain. It was devastating to watch him want to talk to us but not be able to do so. I just told him how wonderful he was and that I was lucky to have him as my Dad.
I thought he might go in the middle of the night but they commented on what a fighter he was. Still, his organs were shutting down and when I held his hand it was cold. The doctor told us there was nothing that could be done, so we just watched and waited. And at 10:40 May 16th, he was gone.
My Dad worked many hours when I was growing up, and I would run to the door when he got home. I loved it when he let me spray shaving cream out in the sink and how he let me blow dry my hair (a no no according to my Mom because I had grown up hair and it made me look too old). Every morning I would tell him how much I loved him. He rescued injured birds with me, watched football with me, laughed at me, and was my biggest cheerleader. He always said I had my caca together. He said I could do anything I wanted. I miss him so much. So does my daughter.
At this point in my life, my caca is anything but together. And geez, I would like to wave a wand and magically make everything wonderful, but alas life doesn't work that way. It's a process with many unknowns and who knows where you end? I don't, but I'm committed to doing and being the best person I can. I need to shut up and listen. Something I struggle with often. Being right doesn't matter unless you are on Jeopardy. I feel kind of lost right now, so I guess I will follow the bread crumbs..... as soon I find them.
X
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