Damn, this weekend is flying by. I am so thankful it is a long weekend because I am just not ready to go back to work. Yay, Labor Day!
Friday I was a wee bit late for work so I didn’t take a lunch hour, making the day seem really, really long. Don’t get me wrong, I ate lunch, but having Chinese delivered and eating shrimp lo mein with chopsticks, desperately trying not to fling food everywhere, in Lou’s office while discussing the choice for Republican Vice President doesn’t make the clock move exceptionally fast. Something about actually leaving the office certainly makes a difference.
Naturally I was rushed in getting to the Hedge to get my hair done. And by done, I mean colored as well as trimmed. For a girl who is so anti fake everything, I dye my hair. So many silver hairs that I am not a huge fan of staring at every day when I am only 37.
(Yes, that is a cruise ship behind my head in that photo. The Hedge is also a travel agent. )
Best part about getting my hair done is that I get to see the Hedge who always makes me laugh, plus I go around the corner to Doodle’s house and drink wine in the yard with her and her husband. Very nice way to spend a few hours.
After that friends arrived in town (they come in for most University of Pittsburgh football games). Although it was 9 PM they were hungry for Mexican and margaritas which meant I was heading to Mad Mex for a late dinner. Mango margaritas and appetizers were enough for me so I have a leftover spicy shrimp burrito in my fridge calling my name.
Am I the only one who remembers “Mango” on Saturday Night Live? Who slapped his ass every time his name was said? Mmmmmmmmm, mango “slap my ass” margaritas on the rocks make me happy.
Saturday I had to get up earlier than I wanted to because the Pitt football game started at noon. The Rib Fest is down at Heinz Field this weekend and I thought it best to grab a taster rack of four ribs and some corn bread to soak up the booze that was going down so easily in the heat of the morning. Yep, ribs and beer for breakfast…life is good! Although Pitt threw the damn game away, Bloody Marys seemed to make it not hurt nearly as much as it should have.
I would like to take this time to thank the brilliant minds who decided that alcohol could be served at college football games played at Heinz Field. Thank you. From the bottom of my booze soaked liver, thank you!
After the crushing defeat it was more standing in line for ribs to go and then up to a friend’s house on Mt. Washington for football on TV, ribs, more beer and lots of laughter. Life really is good. And will get even better when the football games are played in cooler weather. Sunny and 90 is crazy!
Today is taking it easy with some laundry and dish washing thrown in. Gonna throw the ball again for the puppy. Will fill the baby pool with fresh water and let the dogs splash around like lunatics. Tomorrow I will probably do the parade with one of the dogs and head to a friend’s for a cookout. Regular relaxing Labor Day type stuff.
Hope you are enjoying your weekend. What cha doin?
Karl has a birthday coming up. That crazy fucker will do, and VIDEO, the top five dares. His birthday, yet he is giving us the present. Please head over there and suggest your best (doable and not disgusting) dare. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!
What a fan fucking tastic idea. The bloggers that I crave to read every day, staring at me from my cubicle wall. How awesome will that be? Very!
So here is the deal. If you haven’t already, get your awesome self over here and vote for those who need to satisfy my visual senses as much as they feed my mind. Voting ends Sunday. If you have access to multiple computers, use em! Stuff the (ballot) box!
Avitable is still taking off clothing (yay) at his site and Britt is still doing her best to make the cut, but Dawg is the only one who provided me with a button:
OH! I just found out that Hilly (my secret showmance when they put a gaggle of bloggers in a house and podcast it to the world) and Karl are both nominated as well. Wow. Way cool. Who else has been nominated?
I love a gorgeous pearl necklace.
Pearl earrings are also lovely.
The Hot Blogger Calendar Contest is still going on. Both men and women need votes. I am currently promoting three different bloggers: AVITABLE, BRITT and DAWG. Please consider going to a second computer so that you may vote for both Avitable AND Dawg. There are twelve months for the calendar and I want both of them to grace the pages. NOTE: the voting is separate for men and women so you are welcome to vote for Britt twice. Unless other hot female friends write me and holler that I somehow didn’t realize that they were in the running.
Click HERE to vote. When the page opens, click “Vote Hottest Male” and “Vote Hottest Female” and be sure that you only click the circle next to the name of the blogger you are trying to vote for. This contest is sensitive!
Adam is removing articles of clothing for votes, Britt posted photos (including one of her kissing me) to show you why she needs your vote and Dawg is running a phenomenal contest.
Although Dawg is the only one with a way cool button that takes you to the voting site!
Ξ August 27th, 2008 | → 16 Comments | ∇ me, mom |
Thank you. The outpouring of support for yesterday’s post surprised me and I hope you all know how much I appreciate you. The comments were wonderful and truly touching. Each email and phone call blew me away and really caught me off guard in the best of ways. So thank you. Even if “thank you” doesn’t begin to express how grateful I am for all of you and for this site.
I did put my pearl earrings in and wore them all day Tuesday. Even to bowling. Gonna sleep in them, tonight, too. Because I can.
Although I feel that the necklace is too fancy for normal wear and certainly too dressy for bowling. I do, however, think it will make an appearance on Thursday. Gotta love HNT!
Speaking of which, life is too short to wait for a specific day on the calendar to tell me to post photos:
Can you see how big and pretty the earring is?
I will have to get better photos for tomorrow.
P. S. Please don’t forget to support the Quitters in your life.
Ξ August 26th, 2008 | → 15 Comments | ∇ me, mom |
Yesterday I mentioned that my Mom went to China with a Triple A tour about seven years ago. I am still blown away that it was SEVEN years ago, but Father Time and I have always fought a bit. The details of Mom’s trip are already a tad fuzzy. I didn’t pay attention enough. Always thought I could just pick up the fucking phone and ask her for a specific if I needed it.
ANYhow, the “19 friends that hadn’t yet been met” turned out to kinda piss Mom off. Turns out it was mostly senior citizens on the trip and they didn’t share the same enthusiasm for wholeheartedly experiencing a different country. Although Mom was around 61 according to the calendar, she certainly had a young open and adventurous mind, so when the group wanted to eat at the McDonald’s in Beijing there was no way in hell that Mom was going to partake in that. She asked the hotel concierge where his favorite restaurant was and made arrangements to get there. Squid, 1000 year old eggs, things Mom could only point at because she didn’t speak the language, Mom ate anything they put in front of her. Granted she didn’t always like everything that she tasted, but she at least tasted em.
The year Mom lived her dream of seeing China, I would turn 30. While halfway around the world Mom found herself in a jewelry store, fantasizing about purchasing amazing jade pieces. The clerk went to the back and asked the owner to come out to help Mom because unfortunately the language barrier was frustrating the clerk no matter how kind Mom attempted to be. The store’s owner enjoyed Mom’s love of his country, her excitement at upcoming planned activities, and wanted her to have the gorgeous green jade, pearl and Swarovski crystal necklace that came with pearl earrings that had captured Mom’s eye. He drastically dropped the price and Mom agreed to purchase the set. As the owner started to wrap the purchase after accepting payment, Mom kept on talking. She told him that she would be giving his spectacular jewelry to me on my upcoming 30th birthday. Questions were asked about Mom’s baby girl and much time was spent discussing me. I don’t know what was said, but I do know that Mom whipped out the ever present photo of me (yeah, I hated that and she loved it). Eventually the shop owner insisted that Mom wait just a moment longer while he went in the back to fetch a present for me.
She cried when he handed her a huge and perfect pair of pearl earrings, saying, “For your baby girl. No charge. Each fifteen year old. Together they equal fit a beautiful 30 year old daughter.”
Oh how I love that set. And hardly wear them. For someone like me who wholeheartedly believes in using the “good dishes” every damn day if you feel like it, who feels that life is too short to not enjoy it, I don’t wear them because I am terrified of losing those precious earrings. They are so special to me. I couldn’t handle not having them, yet they just sit in a box. The one and only time I truly wore the set was to her memorial service and the days that followed. That just is not right.
Something interesting happened on Monday, though. Lisa is going to make me custom made jewelry(!), an anklet and a bracelet, so she asked which of her existing pieces she should base my new creations on. I had viewed a few samples on her site and was drawn to one item in particular so I asked that the anklet be ovarian cancer (that Lisa is battling) awareness in that one’s the style and that the bracelet to be whatever she wanted me to have. In emails Lisa said something about the new items containing agate (Mom collected rocks) and pearls.
I have a feeling that I just may break out my pearl earrings. Today. Life really is too damn short to be kept in a box.
Mom was a smoking cessation counselor. In her honor, and for my dear friends, I Support Quitters.
So the Olympics are done. I barely watched them, but what I did manage to see was pretty damn amazing. We have such tremendous athletic talent in this country. I do buy into the patriotic everything that I get fed and watching these kids succeed could easily make me swell with USA pride.
What I saw of the closing ceremony was incredible. The months of practice paid off. My Mudder would have loved the show. And the way the announcers kept talking about how wonderful the people of Beijing were to the foreign athletes and tourists would have thrilled her.
Mom always loved China and would defend their culture when I would bitch that too much of our products were made in China. “Buy American!” was always met with her somehow turning the conversation to the wonderful people of China and not politics.
It should have come as no surprise when Mom announced that she was going on a AAA trip to China. In January. She was over 60 and I was terrified for her safety in the middle of winter. IN! CHINA! When I started asking questions about the trip halfway around the fucking world that she stumbled upon in the Triple A newspaper thingy, she had all of the answers, including that she had just bought a floor length down coat with a (fake!) fur trimmed hood to keep her warm.
My favorite volley? “Well, just who do you plan on going to China with?” “19 friends I haven’t met yet.”
I am so my mother’s daughter, no matter how I try to fight it.
This is most likely an oldie that I hadn’t seen before, and it is so wrong, yet it really hit my funny bone. Yep, I recognize that I was in the mood to laugh. And that Mom, the former nun, would have cracked up at this…
While shopping in a food store, two nuns happened to pass by the beer section.
One asked the other if she would like a beer.
The second nun answered that, indeed, it would be very nice to have one, but that she wouldn’t feel comfortable about buying it.
The first nun replied that she could handle that without a problem.
She picked up a six-pack and took it to the cashier.
The cashier had a surprised look on his face, so the nun said, ‘We use beer for washing our hair; a sort of shampoo, if you will.’
Without blinking an eye, the cashier reached under the counter, pulled out a package of pretzels and placed them in the bag with the beer. He then looked the nun straight in the eye, smiled, and said, ‘The curlers are on the house.’
Honeybees have stingers with jagged barbed stingers. When threatened, they will insert that painful stinger into your skin where the barbs prohibit the stinger from easily pulling out. Problem is, that stinger is connected to the honeybee’s insides. When the bee pulls away, it leaves behind not only the stinger, but also parts of its body. That sting is always fatal to the honeybee.
When we respond with terrible actions and hurtful words to those that wrong us, we sting them with our actions and words. They feel the pain instantly and it lingers. But I can’t help wondering how much of us is dying, how much damage we do to ourselves.
Most likely we do more damage to ourselves.
Os wanted today’s HNT to have an Olympic theme. Yeah, ain’t gonna happen here. Good thoughts and intentions on my part, but I just never got to taking photos. Although the other day I was in an interesting mood when I arrived home from work. Hanging out in the back yard, here is what happened…my contributions to HNT:
Then a bit later that evening I was uploading the photos…
Sorry about all the cellica phone work. I really need a webcam and / or to read the directions so that I can figure out how to work the timer on my digital camera. Well, I suppose I could also benefit from someone else taking the photos, but I ain’t gonna complain about that one.
I had great fun on Adam and Britt’s talk show Wednesday. You know it must be a good show if I miss Project Runway for it because I don’t have a TiVo. I know, I know…I live in the dark ages. Suck it. ANYhow, if you aren’t listening to their hour long program on Talk Shoe, you are missing out. Missing out on more than me saying “cocksucker” in the first 30 seconds of my call into the show, too!
Click HERE for the show page. Download this past Wednesday, plus set a reminder for next week.
Oh yeah, don’t forget that I support Quitters! Crush those smokes and throw them out!
Turns out last night was not the last week for bowling. Next Tuesday is the last night for this league. AND the new league starts that Wednesday. I swear, they keep telling me it is the last night so that I show up all happy.
And I was happy last night. Our new bowling balls arrived, all perfect for the size of my hand and everything. Because we spend too much on weekly dues, they let us pick our choice of balls. I made the guy pick a brand name and material (not resin?) for me because I know nothing about bowling balls, then I picked the colors. Pretty green and blue. Engraved with HAHA. Love it. Especially because it throws strikes!
How about the ball has a scent?!??!!! My new ball smells like limes. Makes me want mojitos. Or to clean something. Dang has a shiny blue ball that smells of mango and Doodle’s black with shiny pink swirls smells like bubblegum. Who was the rocket scientist that decided bowling balls needed scent? I stand at the line, sniffing my ball, dreaming of beaches and mojitos. Way too much of a distraction.
ANYhow, there is always a bunch of ass slapping and breast shimmying and booty shaking when we are at the lanes (in the gutter…ha!). Last night was no exception. Except for the one point when I am drinking a beer, standing behind the couch, when Doodle reaches over and honks my boob. And kinda even said HONK. Seriously honked my boob at a bowling alley.
Have I mentioned recently that Doodle is my boss? And female? All I could think of was when the other day Britt wrote about her husband honking her and the fact that she hates it. Granted I was not in the middle of a possible hot sexual situation, but last night I cracked the fuck up. All the guys loved it of course, but the fact that she said honk made it awesome.
Later, I honked her back.
Life is good.
Go Britt! Go Karl!!
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Gotta love marketing. How about THIS Guinness ad? Makes me thirsty!
Today is the last bowling league. Doodle was pretty much our best player with an average of about 135 or so, but I was all over the board every week. My lowest score was a 69 and my highest was a 150. So much for consistency! Funny part was Doodle losing her shit that I beat her one game. By bowling like a little kid: legs spread wide, ball back between em. She had 137 and I had 150. Because it will never happen again, I wanted to record my success for posterity:
Remember all the bitchin I did about my damn Tuesday bowling league? Yeah, I got suckered into joining another one. Wednesday nights for the rest of my fucking life. Only good part about this league is you can have alternates so it appears that I don’t have to commit to every damn week.
Don’t forget that Britt and Karl have given up smoking for good. It ain’t easy, I have done it, so should you find yourself with a little time, give them some love.