Ways to Make a Glamorous Redneck Have a Bad Day

OK so really there's only one way to make me have a bad day. And that's to call me before I have a chance to form coherent thought. FYI, coherent thought does not enter my brain until the alarm clock has gone off. And even then, it's fleeting. You're better off to speak to me after about 9:00 in the morning. That allows everything to fully reboot, so to speak.

So, when the phone rings at 6:45 in the morning, I can pretty much guarantee that it's going to be a bad day.

It turned out that my daycare mom's son has strep throat. Which is FAN-freaking-TASTIC because that means he was probably contagious on Monday and I can think of about 8 squilion better ways to begin the school year. So I'm hoping that we don't get it.

But that meant no daycare today. And that I had to find somewhere else to go with the kids because I HAVE to be here today. After four calls and perhaps a minor freakout (because how the hell do these people expect me to SPEAK, let alone form complete sentences) when I have my routine all screwed up?

Needless to say, I found somewhere for them to go, but as I've said before, my routine is screwed, so I feel "off" today. And I should be working, but the work hurts my brain, so I'm taking a minute to whine to five people on the internet. Feel my pain, oh interweb friends.

I'm off to go finish what I'm doing. And I'm so not getting out of bed tomorrow.

Does This Mean I'm Destined for AI?

First off, go see my renter. She's super cool! And her name is bug, which makes her even cooler!

And, I just did that celebrity face thing on My Heratige.com and here are the results:


So yeah, maybe I should go up to Minneapolis on the 8th and try out for the new AI.

Or not.

What do you think? Do you see similarities? Cuz I sure don't.

The storm before the calm

I work for a company that does things for schools. Which to the outside world would mean that the summer is our slowest time. Afterall, how can there possibly be work while there is no school?

The truth is quite the contrary. Summer is actually our busiest time. We have financial statements to prepare, end of the year reports to run, and other things that have to be ready prior to the school year starting.

School starts next week, which means this week is "crunch time". I've been working my butt off trying to get all this crap done, and I feel like for everything I accomplish, three more things take it's place. When I get home at the end of the day, I'm exhausted because I've been over-using my brain all day long. CB used to laugh at me and say that it was impossible for me to be that tired after sitting at a computer all day. Until he had a job where he had to spend hours upon hours concentrating on a computer screen. He would come home wiped and I would do the happy "I told you so" dance.

After school starts, there will probably be another week or so of chaos, then things will start to die back down. And I will be changing my hours so that instead of working every other day, I'll be working Monday through Thursday 8:30 to 12:30, then all day on Friday. Which will be super nice because I will have three blissful hours all to myself four days a week. I can cook! I can clean! I can get back into my workout schedule (I almost said routine, but I couldn't take the rhyming.). I can even bake without listening to children fight about who's turn it is to crack the eggs! The opportunities are endless!

But until that point, I may be very much scarce around here. Plus, I have to spend as much time as possible with my baby girl before she off and goes to Kindergarten.

To The Most Awesome Little Man I Know,

Seven years ago, I was scared out of my mind. After all, I didn’t know how to handle having a boy! You were so tiny then, like a little football. I couldn’t put you down, even for a second. We would spend those first months of being home alone alternating between feeding you and napping on the couch, your head nestled right under my neck. You always smelled like you’d just had a bath. I could have spent forever like that.

I remember when I took you in for your first check up. “My son has an appointment today.” My son. It was the first time I’d said it out loud, and it fit like I had been saying it my whole life. You were my responsibility, I had a whole world to show you, and you ate it up almost as fast as you drank your bottles.

When I watch you now, I’m amazed that you were ever that small. I can barely lift you up to hug you, let alone cradle you around like a football. But you still will crawl up on me when I’m on the couch and nestle your head right underneath mine “Is this how we used to do it when I was a baby, Mommy?” I stroke your hair and try not to cry. “Yes, CJ, this is exactly how we did it when you were a baby.”

Kindergarten was tough for me. You weren’t my little baby anymore. You were upgraded to little man. It hurt my heart to watch you go, but the excitement in your voice when you read your first book all by yourself made up for that. And the day that you decided that you didn’t need me to walk with you to your classroom anymore was like cutting off one of my limbs and watching it walk away from me. I cried in the car that day. For a very selfish reason. I was having a hard time letting you go.

But for every moment it hurts me to watch you grow up, I get ten thousand more that make my heart feel like it’s going to burst from pride. Like the way that you are the first one to offer up a word of encouragement when one of your friends can’t do something. And I laugh at the way you are the “Language Police” in our house. Sometimes it’s as if I have a grown man living in a seven-year-old body.

You are caring, compassionate, strong, independent, loving, and you are mine. I hope none of these things change as you continue to grow. But I know one never will. You will always be My Son. And that is worth more than anything in the whole world.

I love you and Happy Birthday!

Mommy

The (not so) Many Loves of Glamorous Redneck. Or, Y'all asked for it.

It was a unanimous by the three or four people that commented on it, so I present to you:

(100 Glamorous Things # 30 & 31)

I said in my 100 Things that I’ve been in love three times. These are the ones I count as TWUE WUV (a la The Princess Bride). There were two other boys that I thought I really did love, but that was Jr. High and I was confused. So to entertain you today, I give you my five favorite boys.

Boy # 1—He was my first real boyfriend. I had dated guys before, but this was the first to actually call me his girlfriend. Now that I look at him, he really wasn’t that cute. But he was a bad boy. We were in eighth grade and he would sneak a cigarette every day before he got on the bus. Then he’d cram a bunch of cinnamon gum in his mouth to mask it. I do believe this is what made me allergic to cinnamon gum. Up until him, I LOVED cinnamon everything. But the smell alone now is enough to make me puke. I almost died when he told me he loved me! Eek! We’ll be together forever and it will be FANTASTIC! Bleurgh.

Luckily he broke up with me a month after he said it. He’d given me a half of a ying-yang necklace (he wore the other half), and the day he broke up with me (after I’d spent an hour fuming about it & being consoled by my best friend, who happened to be a guy & gorgeous!) I threw the damn thing at him. After we made up and were able to talk about it, he told me that it had cut him on his chin. Serves him right. Bastard! lol

Boy # 2—He was my best friend. He had been since 6^th grade. And when I moved to Virginia he was the ONLY person from the town I lived in that actually wrote to me. When I lived there, we would spend at least two hours on the phone. Every night. Seriously, what can you talk about for two hours with someone that you saw at school all day? But I did love him. He was the only person (besides Heather) who knew absolutely all of my secrets. We could talk about anything. And isn’t that what you want in a relationship? Plus, he had these blue eyes that reminded me of a wolf. They were beautiful. Add to it his jet black hair and that he was a skateboarder & I was hooked!

When we had been writing for about six months, he signed a letter “I love you”. Not just “Love, B” or something like that. It was a statement. I called him that night and he told me that he had for a long time. Well, thanks for telling me that now, moron! But, as it happened with everyone, the letters slowed down. I saw him again when we were 18, and all he wanted to do was go hide in the desert to get high. This was not the guy that I had known for years. I said good-bye to him that day and I haven’t spoken to him since. Last I heard he was in jail for getting busted with meth. It kills me, but I guess that’s what happens sometimes.

Boy # 3—Is The Ex (we’ll call him T). He was one of the first people to actually talk to me when I moved here. And it was funny because his best friend (we’ll call him J) and I sat together in a class and I actually had a crush on HIM, not T. Besides, T had a girlfriend and I considered him waaay out of my league. He is a hottie. That’s all there is to it. Brown hair, brown eyes, athletic and a year-round tan. Yummy.

Anyway, T, J, and I would hang out quite often. Usually to kill time before J had to leave for a sport of one kind or another (I’m so not getting into specifics because if someone would come across this and be able to figure it out, I would DIE.). So, before long I had a crush on T. And when he broke up with his girlfriend, I secretly wished I’d get a chance.

He asked me to meet him at a game, and when he didn’t show, I was pissed. But with like two minutes left in the third quarter, he finally got there. Then he walked me home. And I wish every day that I could consider this one my first kiss. It was freezing cold outside, and a light snow was falling. He walked me to my door, asked if I wanted to go out, and then he kissed me. Like a movie, people. It was per-fect.

And I was a goner. The rest of high school was spent alternating between hating him so much that daggers would shoot out of my eyes and loving him so much that I would do anything to be with him. I don't believe the feeling was ever mutual. There was a part of me that hoped, but I just know him and highly doubt that he felt as strongly as I did.

Now we’re both married with kids and the last time I saw him, he seemed happy. And I know I’m happier than I ever thought I could be. But evidently, that doesn’t stop the dreams or the wondering “what if” or wondering if he ever felt the same way. Because no one ever outright said it, but I know I loved him. And there’s a part of me that probably always will. Because he was/still is an awesome friend to have.

This one is the one that scares me the most to write. Like I said, I don't think the feeling was mutual, and there is no way that he knows how bad I had it for him. I can't even tell you how nervous I am about this. And if word gets out to my "real life" friends that I have this blog, this entry could very well get deleted. So enjoy it while you can! :)

Boy #4—Isn’t nearly as dramatic as # 3. He was another one that was and still is a very dear friend. He liked the movie Grease for goodness sake! I didn’t think that was possible! He’s another looker too. Actually, when the hottie came to offer cleaning my carpets, I had to do a double take because I thought it was him. And we never actually dated. More like we just had a lot of really steamy makeout sessions in the middle of the night. It was my kind of relationship. And he was almost everything I thought I wanted. Not only did he have excellent taste in movies, but he also loved to dance! Who wouldn’t want to date this guy? But for whatever reason, he had a thing for girls that were intangible. Maybe we had that in common too.

He still is an awesome guy, but those feelings of “why can’t I have YOU?” have long since vanished. I just love hanging out with him. Plus, he’s an instant dance partner!

Boy #5—The One. I had never believed in love at first sight till I met this guy. I had just finished my last go-around with # 3 and I was officially done. With. Boys. (isn’t that always when the good one shows up?). I had just started at a crappy summer job—that paid really well. And while I was just starting, he was in the home stretch of being done there. He had just graduated from tech school and was off to a town an hour and a half away to start a new job. When I first saw him from afar, I was like “who is THIS guy?” He walked like he was The Stuff and he was wearing a cowboy hat and a wife-beater. Ugh. Another one of *those* guys. No thank you very much!

Then I was introduced to him. And YOWZA! His eyes are amazing! They’re brown with flecks of gold in them. I’ve never seen anything like them! And when he smiled at me, I was done for. But I was so not going there because I was done with boys who were hot and knew that they were. Only the walk was an act. He didn’t realize that every single girl in that place was swooning over him. Problem? He had a girlfriend. “Perfect.” I thought. “Now I don’t have to worry about anything because he’s spoken for.”

I met him on Wednesday. On Thursday he brought me flowers. On Friday he told me that he broke up with his girlfriend. And by the next Friday, we were officially a couple.

The first time he told me he loved me was another "movie moment". He was getting ready to head back home (to the new town). We were standing by his truck and hugging. A light rain started to fall and he looked me dead in the eye and said "I love you." And for the first time, I knew he wasn't lying and said it right back. Having the words out in the open was incredible, even though I'd felt it for weeks.

I knew right away. I just knew that I was going to marry this man. And he felt the same. We were looking at engagement rings within the month and making plans for where we were going to live when I was done with school. Then CJ came along and things got pushed a lot farther ahead than I thought they would be when I was 20. But, I know now that we are exactly where we are supposed to be. And even though it hasn’t been an easy road and there was a time not so long ago that I would secretly wish a piano would fall on him from the heavens, I know he’s The One. I love him more than anyone should be able to love another person. Of course there are still days that he drives me nuts (like last week when he came to bed an hour after I’d fallen asleep and turned the damn light on), but the good far outweigh the bad.

So there you have it. The boys of my life. They were (mostly) great guys and I know that the trials and frustrations and heartache that came with each and every one of them made me who I am today. It made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. And made me know for sure what I wanted in a man.

Plus, they make awesome models for romance novels! lol

Taking Batsh*t Crazy to a Whole 'Nother Level.

Last night I had to show CJ how to floss properly (because we went to the dentist and we all have to do EVERYTHING the dentist says. Maybe we can have the dentist tell the kids to pick up their toys when they're done playing with them?), so I was standing in the bathroom downstairs and I thought I saw something fly down out of the corner of my eye. Because I'm becoming an expert on the flight pattern of bats, I was fairly certain that we had another visitor. But I turned around to look and it was gone, so I figured I was imagining things.

I explained to CJ what I had thought I'd seen and he just kind of laughed at me. Then he went upstairs and told CB that "Mommy thought she saw a bat!" CB was not amused and thought that I was off my rocker. Going batsh*t crazy, as it were. I know this because I heard him up there telling CJ that there was no way I had seen a bat. Then I went upstairs to tuck the kids in and CB went down to the basement to put a load of clothes in the wash. The next thing I heard was him pounding up the stairs, grumbling the whole way. I was only able to understand a few words, one of which was "bat".

"Ha ha! I was right! There was a bat! And I'm NOT losing my mind!" And then "Crap. There's another bat in this freaking house."

This time, however, I'm happy to report that he disappeared before we could get him back outside. And we think we've got it figured out where they are coming in. There's another door outside our house that goes straight down into the basement instead of having to go through the house and down the creaky old semi-spiraled staircase. Right above that door is a tiny little gap (we've learned through all of this that bats only need a 1/4" space to crawl through, and that boggles my mind, people!) and the steps are littered with guano. Ewwww.

So we put the plywood sheet that goes up in the winter on the door a few months early, hoping that it will at least keep the little things out of my living room.

I am so ready to move. I hated this house before, but having these things in it has been the last straw. The thing is that there are already 40 houses for sale in this town. This is not that big of a place and there isn't a huge influx of people, mostly because there is nothing here. So, odds of us actually selling and getting the hell out of here are slim to none. Plus, there's at least five remodeling projects in various states of incompletion and at least a year of work (two at the rate we've been going lately). And you have to have money to buy the stuff before you can actually finish the projects, and as you can see from yesterday's post, any spare money is being tied up in the betterment of the family's teeth.

I'm at my wit's end with all this crap. So maybe that's why I've been thinking about the past recently. About a time when I had zero responsibility and could just up and fix things whenever I wanted to. When I can't change things I want to change, it tends to push me into a funk. I'm tired of the funk.

Adventures in Dentistry & Other Fun

Since school starts two weeks from today (watch me do cartwheels and dance around the house for joy!), it's the time of year where we have to get all the checkups and such done for the kiddies. Normally it isn't a big deal because we've got health insurance, but we've been bad and slacking on the dentist visits. Neither CB nor I work at a company that provides Dental insurance, so we just haven't taken the time to get to the dentist. Plus, it's an expense that I HATE with a fiery passion. Even when we had dental, I went one time. But, I don't want to inflict my hatred of all things dentist-related onto the kids, so I scheduled them checkups. CB has had some mouth pain lately too, so the three of them had appointments this morning.

An hour and a half later, we walked out of there with an $1,800 bill. Then I died.

I'm certain that daggers shot out of my eyes because it is so insane how much it costs to have someone look at your teeth. Even if CB wouldn't have had TEN CAVITIES (!), it would have cost at least $250. That's crazy for an hour and a half of work! CB joked that he's going to just tell the dentist to rip all his teeth out & he'll make himself a set of titanium dentures. Yeah, because that's hella sexy, hon.

CJ only had one cavity, and although Diva was cavity-free, she's got an underbite. Which means that five years down the line we'll be paying for the dentist's vacation home by getting her braces. Gah!

**********
Now, onto the actual fun part. Last week, CB got a phone call from his dad (we'll call him Country Dad). CD was sharing with CB that he'd just bought a new(ish) boat. If the conversation had ended there, I would have had to listen to CB whine for the next month about how his dad gets to have all the fun and it sucks because we have this KIDS that are so friggin' expensive, blah, blah, blah. Then I would have shot him because I am so sick of the damn whining in this house and I would have been writing this entry from jail.

But CD couldn't get anything for a trade in on his old boat, and he GAVE it to CB. Just gave it to him for free. So now we have this pretty nice boat--considering that it's twenty-some years old and a fishing boat. But it goes fast enough to tube behind and is in excellent condition.

Needless to say Saturday and Sunday were spent at the lake. I took advantage of it on Saturday and went shopping. Although it wasn't much fun because the kids were whiney (see? I'm sick of the whine! I need WINE to make the whine not so damn annoying) and crabby, which makes me crabby. But I got some pretty good deals and they are now more than set for school clothes.

Sunday it was beautiful out, so I went out on the lake too. And for a few hours, I actually enjoyed the beauty of this state. It's the land of 10,000 lakes, and a vast majority of the really nice ones are located within an hour of us. The one we were at on Sunday is big, but it's pretty quiet. The sky was a perfect bright blue with big puffy clouds and the water was cool and not disgusting (which is a feat in and of itself by this point in the summer). I sat in the boat, the little waves rocking us back and forth and realized this is an OK life. If every weekend could be like that, I could handle living in this small town of big mouths. And then the kids started getting bored. I seriously considered jumping in the water and swimming away. But I didn't. And we all came home, relaxed and drained from the sun. I slept like a rock for the first time in a long time. That, my friends, is what I call a perfect way to end a weekend.

Heavy

Confusious wonder:

Why do I have this death grip on the past when all I really want to do is let go?

Go See My Renter

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I am in love with MySpace. . .

. . .And maybe just a tish obsessed.

But I was scared of it for a long time. The only things I'd heard about it was the bad. Like the super-stalkers out for blood. But my brother had told me about it, so I decided to check it out.

Now I've spent the past two weeks catching up with classmates that I haven't seen since graduation. Some even from California that I haven't seen since I was 12! It's AWESOME!

So, MySpace, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I let all the negative press get to me. And I'm sorry that I never gave you a chance when I first heard about you.

I also got a bit of exciting news last night--I'm going to be a ballarina. Or a tap-dancer. Or something like that! I had been wishing that the girl who teaches dance in town would do an adult class, and last night one of my friends told me that she is! Starting in September! I'm soooo excited! I used to take ballet when I was little, but it interfered with my "Muppet Babies" watching, so after a year (and a jump to the advanced class), I dropped out. And I've hated myself for it for years. Hopefully it's like riding a bike & it will all come back to me right away. Or you'll be seeing my uncooridnated ass on America's Funniest Home Videos as I careene off the stage.

I Think a Change Would Do Me Good

So I didn’t get the coaching job. Which is totally OK. It wasn’t like we actually NEEDED the money. And a friend of mine that is a single mom got the job, so I’m totally fine with it.

It was probably a good thing anyway. I’ve never really tried for something that I didn’t think I would get. Which is probably cocky, I know. But it’s not really like that. I applied at the college that our high school used for our free college classes, at which I was already a student anyway. I’ve always applied for jobs that I knew I would get just because I knew no one else would apply. So this was the first time that I actually took a stab at something that I didn’t KNOW was a sure thing. I’m glad I did, because it doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would.

And I had started posting this yesterday, but I got interrupted by a VERY gorgeous man knocking on my door. Seriously, it was insane! He was dressed all nice with a black polo & khakis and some bad ass sunglasses. Clean cut with dark brown eyes and a slight tan. GOR-GEOUS. He had a slight southern drawl to his voice and I could have just listened to him say my name all damn day. Oy. Sometimes life just ain’t fair!

He was a salesman for some carpet-cleaner thingy but I was NOT paying attention. Unfortunately I don’t have any carpet worth cleaning because it’s all getting ripped out, but he did say that her would come back if he had the attachment for cleaning hard wood floors with him. And I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t spend the rest of the day with a super-tuned ear to the door. . .

He didn’t come back, and that was probably OK too. But I was sure glad that I had decided to put on makeup yesterday morning!

Today I went to get my hair cut. I’ve never found someone to be *my* hairstylist, so I just usually go to the same place and hope one day there will be someone there that will know just what haircut would be perfect for me and just do it. And today was not that day. Today I had a guy cut my hair for the first time. And he was nice enough, but you could just tell he’s more of a “barbershop” kind of guy than a “hair salon” kind of guy. Plus he was HUGE. He was sweating profusely the whole time he was cutting my hair. Ugh. And the hair is OK. But I just wish that I could find THAT person. The person who is a miracle worker and could tame my slightly-wavy-but-not-wavy-enough-to-be-cute hair into a fantastic style that is both chic and only takes five minutes to style.

And now I’m sitting here with some blonde in a bottle, contemplating if I really want to go back that route. Luckily it’s a kind that washes out in like 6 weeks, so if I hate it, I don’t have to live with it long.

Can you tell it’s time for something to change in my life? This is the way it goes. I get the “everything is too similar” feeling and things have to start changing. When I wasn’t living in this house, that was solved by me changing around the living room furniture. But this house only has one way that the living room can be. Diva doesn’t want her room changed around & CJ has way too much crap in his to try and change it around. Our room can only be one way too. But I’m going to beg on CB just a little bit to see if we can repaint in there. Maybe that will make me feel better.

So I’m off to stare at the hair dye some more & try and get my kids to JUST. STOP. FIGHTING. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!!!!!!!

Redneck Fun at the County Fair

Whenever I talk about going to the county fair, I feel like busting out my best Larry the Cable Guy impersonation. But I suppose it’s really not a Redneck thing. I used to go to the Del Mar County Fair every year when I was little. I remember going through each exhibition hall, gawking at all the old Barbies and cereal boxes and Happy Meal toys. And I remember in the industry hall there was a water company that was set up every year with a spigot that looked to be floating above the crowd, pouring water into a bucket beneath it. I’m too embarrassed to tell you how old I was before I finally figured it out. But I will say it was after I had moved out of the state.

My other favorite thing there was getting to meet the girls who were county royalty. And the Fairest of the Fair. There was a Spanish theme to the fairgrounds, so the Fairest of the Fair would usually be dressed in one of those pretty Spanish dresses that the girls hold in their hand to dance (I have no idea what they are called, I just know that it was all I wanted to wear when I was little) and a mantilla in their hair. They were GORGEOUS. And I wanted to be them when I grew up. But then I learned all the stuff you have to do at an actual beauty pageant and decided it didn’t sound like such a cool thing anymore.

The fair we went to on Saturday was about one tenth the size of the Del Mar fair, with probably twice as many stinky animals. OK, so probably not, but I never had to wander through every single animal stall before I married a man that wants to be a farmer when he grows up. And had two kids that love talking to the animals. Diva likes to pretend that she can speak their language, so we had her stopping at every stall telling that particular animal that they were the cutest one there. It’s cute and I love it, but I never thought that I would.

After wandering through the animal houses and going on a couple of way-too-expensive-for what-they-are rides, we embraced our true Redneckdom at the Demo Derby.

Now, up until about three years ago, the Demos got an emphatic “no” from me every time the hubs asked if I wanted to go. But since I gave birth to his own Mini-Me, CB roped CJ into asking if we could “please, please, please” go to the Demo Derby. And that kid is so cute that it’s impossible to say no to him. So I went along, and the rest—as they say—is history. It was so fun! More fun than I thought it would be. It made me want to find an old Chevette and paint it pink to go play too. But I haven’t. After Saturday’s race, I’m glad. We got in early enough that we got pretty good seats and I saw a whole lot of bouncing around inside those cars when they would get hit. It just looks painful.

Another bonus of the good seats was the occasional overspray of mud balls. There’s a big fence that is supposed to catch the majority of them, but my hair was caked with mud. Plus, it started to rain in the middle of the derby (the stands are covered—thankfully), so by the end of the night, it wasn’t so much mud “balls” as muddy water being splashed up from the track. The kids were laughing so hard that I couldn’t help but laugh too. But I treated myself to a deep conditioning treatment when we got home because there was no other way that crap was coming out of my hair.

The ride home was terrible! It was raining so hard in a couple of places that we had to slow down to about 35 on the highway. The wipers couldn’t even keep up! And in the middle of the night there was a huge crack of thunder that practically made me jump right out of bed.

CB had wanted to go to a threshing show yesterday, but sadly it was still raining (I wish I knew a way to project the sarcasm in that statement), so we stayed home and went swimming at the community center instead.

So all in all it was a pretty good weekend. A good way to keep my mind off of things. And thanks to everyone that commented on Friday! I hope you all got to have some great conversations with old friends! :)

How was your weekend?

Glamorous New Holiday--Ten years of remembering

When I was four years old, my parents moved to an apartment complex where my mom became the manager. I was sad because it was something new and I was leaving my friends. Granted, it was only a move across the street, but that’s just the same as across the country when you can’t cross the street without a grown up.

Anyway, I was out playing by myself one day when a chubby little girl with long brown hair and big brown eyes was shooed out the door by her dad. I suspect he’d seen me out there playing and was encouraging her to come and say hello.

She did, finally, and that was all it took. We were instant friends. And we did everything together from that point on. We were there for each other through both of our parents’ divorces and she was there to encourage me when my mom married my step dad.

But, with the new step dad came a move to another town. After spending the past eight years across the grass from my very best friend, it was unfathomable to imagine being a half an hour away from each other. It was hard, but we made the best of it. We called all the time and had sleepovers what seemed like almost monthly.

Then the big bomb dropped. My parents told me that we really were moving across country—to Virginia—and my whole world collapsed. It didn’t help that I was 13 at the time and my whole world consisted of friends and nothing but. I was furious. Did they plan on flying me back on a regular basis so I could see Heather? Or did they plan on paying for her to come and see me? The answer was—of course—no, but that they would try their best to get us together.

That was the worst transition period of my life! We wrote each other letters at least weekly, saying nothing at all, really. I cried all the time and I hated my parents. Typical, right?

But, once school started and new friends became pretty simple to meet, the letters came less and less often. She became active in student government, I became active in lying to my parents and hanging out with the wrong kind of people. We still wrote letters—but it became more like every month or so, turning less frequent as the year went on—and talked on the phone quite a bit. We started to move on with our lives, and being separated started to not hurt so bad.

After two years of living in Virginia, my parents told me that we were moving again—this time to Podunk, MN. I wasn’t as sad this time. Life had started spiraling out of control in front of me—I had gone from being a straight A student to passing 9^th grade with a D average—and I was ready for the change. Plus, we were closer to California! It might be more conceivable to make a trip that direction! Heather and I were excited again, and when I first got here, the letters and phone calls picked right back up again. But, in the same pattern, as soon as school started, the letters diminished to hardly at all, and phone calls came about once every other month or so.

I can’t remember the last time I talked to her—it was somewhere around her birthday—August 4^th—and we spoke for quite some time. The thing that I loved about her was that she was one of those friends that you COULD go for months without talking to, then pick up the phone and call and it would be like you had just spoken yesterday.

Then the phone call came that changed my life forever. At 11:32 pm on August 11, 1996 the phone rang. No one calls that late, so I knew something was wrong. I heard my mom answer the phone, and I went downstairs to find out what had happened. She was on the phone, and I just KNEW by the look on her face that someone had died.

“What, Mom? What is it?” I was frantic.

“Heather died in a car accident.” It was such a such a simple phrase, but it left me numb. I collapsed to the ground “No, no, no, no, no” echoed through my head. This wasn’t supposed to happen to people like her. People who were bound for greatness, who were funny enough to be on a good season of SNL. People who were smart enough to take on the world and win were not supposed to die in car accidents. That was a fate reserved for people like me that snuck alcohol out of their parents’ stash and only dated boys that smoked (smoking pot was an added bonus). It should have been me. I was always supposed to die before her. We had discussed this. I was older by 7 months, therefore *I* would die first. It wasn’t fair and I was pissed.

The next few days were a blur. Mom tried to help, but there was no money to go to the funeral. I had to sit here and wait for calls from my friends to get the run down. I spoke on the phone to her mom—who was like a second mom to me—and it was like talking to a robot. She was a wreck. I didn’t know how we would all make our way through this. But a conversation with one of my friend’s dad—who also was my pastor—helped a lot. I did a lot of writing. Things I wish that I had said. Good memories (like going to see La Traviata together). Bad memories (the time that she stopped talking to me for three days because I got her with a squirt gun). And everything in between. Writing had always been my escape, but it became the best form of therapy.

I still dealt with a lot of “I should have been there. I should have been the one driving. I wouldn’t have let this happen.” But you can make yourself crazy with the “what ifs”.

After graduation, I did finally get out there. I went to the library in Escondido, CA and searched the microfiche for newspaper articles. We drove past her old apartment. I did a lot of crying, but it felt good. Not everyone is blessed with such a good friend—even if it was for a short time.

Today makes it ten years since that day. I feel like I should be doing something. But I don’t know what. Life still goes on, and I still have to be at work. If I had my way, I would have flown out to California and gone to the place where it happened. I would have sobbed and prayed and sobbed some more.

But instead, I spend the day remembering my best friend. The girl who was there for me through more crap than anyone should be. The girl who loved me no matter what. And the girl who was going to be my roommate when we moved to New York City to pursue greatness.

And I ask you to help remember her too. I hereby declare August 11th Glamorous Redneck's International Best Friend day. Call your best friend—even if you can’t get together—and tell him/her how much you care about them. Because you never know when it’s going to be the last time you talk to them. Wanna participate? It isn't anything spectacular. Just let me know and post a link back in your blog. I want this to be HUGE! :)

Edit:Kat just made this cute graphic for me. Go ahead and use it if you want to! Thanks, KAT! :)

In memory of Heather Lynn Hanson, August 4, 1980-August 11, 1996

I love you and I miss you.

100 Things About Me # 43 B

As promised, the second half of the couch story:

The purple couch sat in my parents’ garage for quite some time. Then my dad threatened to throw it away if I didn’t find a home for it. Well, we couldn’t have that, could we?

I happened to have a LOT of free time my senior year. One of the cool things at our school is that when you are a Junior or Senior, you can take college classes for free at the high school. And I did it, for the sole reason that college semesters ended earlier than ours did, so anyone who took college classes would end up with an extra study hall for the last two weeks of each semester. And if you got finished with all the work before that, you would get even longer. So I took two college classes, which happened to fall in the two periods right after lunch, with a study hall after that. Since the second one was a writing class, I breezed through it in a hurry & ended up with a month of free time.

Two friends of mine were in the same class, and got done around the same time I did. And we did a lot of plotting during that study hall. When I mentioned the purple couch to them, they both decided that it needed to come into the senior hallway. Since the only seating we had out there was benches made out of leftover pieces of wood, I thought the couch would be perfect. One of my friends had a pickup, so we took off over to my house and loaded the couch up.

We were very incognito about the whole thing. The truck pulled into a little alcove that no one used and we hauled the couch into the senior hallway. It was a good thing they were guys, because it made all the work go a LOT faster. Plus, I had insisted to them that we wouldn’t be able to do it by ourselves, which only made them want to do it that much more.

After we got the couch situated (against a wall, because of the whole “reclining” feature) where we wanted it, the three of us sat down. Our principal came through and rolled his eyes at us, promising that the couch would stay.

Right at that time, the bell rang to signify the end of that period. And we were bombarded! I think half the senior class piled on top of us! Someone took a picture with my camera, but it was a crappy one, so it didn’t turn out. I was super bummed!

Then after school, the seniors (it’s a small school, only about 120 in my graduating class & that was BIG) signed the couch in varying colors of permanent ink. We got several more confirmations from teachers and other staff people that the couch would stay, but when we got to school the next morning, it was gone. And we were irate! Several of us spent the next few days searching every corner of the school, but to no avail. Our couch was lost.

But Snow week we heard a rumor that the couch had been found. No one had seen it yet, but the rumor was that it was going to make an appearance at the pep rally that Friday. We all waited very patiently for the time to come.

And when it did, we weren’t disappointed! We walked into the gym and saw a couch that was covered in a blanket. Those of us who had seen the couch the first time around knew exactly what it was. And even some of the underclassmen who had been walking through the hallway or heard the story were busy whispering.

The couch finally made its rebut at the beginning of the pep rally. Everyone erupted into cheers as the blanket was ripped away, revealing our purple couch! The Snowball King and Queen candidates did a version of Singled Out and the winners all sat on the couch until the end of the pep rally.

After it was over, we begged and pleaded for the couch to be back in the Senior hallway, but we were shot down. A classmate took it home, and last I heard, it was their couch in their fish house. I don’t know if it still is today, but even if it’s not, that purple vinyl couch will go down as one of the coolest things ever to grace our little Podunk High School.

Oh Back to School. . .back to school. . .

The brother is all officially moved in. Or something. His dorm is really cool--especially since once school starts it will be a single room.

He’s going to a small college about two hours from here, and the lucky rat gets to be in the only dorm with air conditioning.

Actually, he was lucky last year too. His dorm was right next to the food service and on the main floor.

This year, he’s not on the main floor. He’s on the third floor. Even there is air conditioning, they conveniently neglected to add elevators. And he packed all his stuff into super heavy bags that were taller than me.

Add to that the fact that it was so humid yesterday that there was a haze in the air, and the ride home in the car was not pleasant. I was just glad the brother wasn’t along for that! The temperature was only like 75, so it could have been a perfect day. But it had to be 100% humidity because it felt way hotter than it was.

We made it back to town just in time for me to go to practice for singing at church, so I rushed in the house all quick like, kissed the hubs and was back out the door again.

Then I came home and took a shower and died.

Today I am still tired, although I’m surprisingly not sore. And I have three extra girls coming over to my house for a while today. Think I can convince all of them that we need naps?

Holy Crap

I just got smacked at I Talk 2 Much. And it didn't hurt too bad.

I can't tell you how scared I was. I mean, I thought it would be fun because those girls and guys are hilarious. And I was prepared to be ripped a new one. But, I wasn't. And Merciless Minx LIKED it here. I'm speechless. Really. Only suggestion was to make the content boxes a different color, which I'm off to go figure out right now.

New Roommate

I've been really bad at promoting my renters for the past couple of weeks, but I've got a new one today and am going to try to be a much better landlord this week!

So go visit Crayons, Playdoh and Wax. Oh My! :)

She's a stay at home mom who lives in the beautiful state of Colorado. So go on, go say hi. And make sure that you tell her I sent you!

We all slept much better last night. When I got home from work, CB was furthering our Redneck Advancement by putting duct tape along the sides of CJ's room. Now, please note that this is not a permanent decor. We just all had the heebie jeebies from the bat and wanted to ensure no more repeats. And, since we live in Podunk, you can't just run to the store and buy quarter round to put on the walls. So we have to wait until Saturday when we go to semi-Civ and buy some. But it does match nicely with the duct tape in the hallway where CB knocked a giant hole in the wall. I'm all about tying rooms together. And I hate this house with every fiber of my being!

Today the kids and I are going with my mom and Bro to move him back to college. He gets to play football, so I think he's actually excited to be going back this time around. It's hard to believe that the little (all six feet of him) brother is getting ready to start his second year of college. When I was going into my second year, I was a mom to a two week old baby and in the process of planning a wedding. Thank goodness he is no where near ready for that sort of stuff. That boy still has LOTS of growing up to do.

Bats in My Belfry

So last night at about 2:30 in the morning, Diva woke up crying because she’d had a bad dream. I went in her room and she told me that she had dreamt that a butterfly was flying around her room and she woke up and it was real. I tried to calm her down, but then she pointed up to the ceiling, “See, there it is again!” and I just about died.

It most certainly wasn’t a butterfly. And it took the thing flying through a couple of times for me to realize what it was. There was a bat flying around our house!

First I had Diva tell me when it had flown back out of her room, then I realized there were still two other rooms the thing could fly through and it needed to be OUT of my house.

So I opened the door again and immediately dropped down to the floor, all commando style and crawled back into my bedroom.

“Umm, CB?”

Half-mumble, “Yeah?”

“I think there’s a bat in the house.” I was amazed at my calmness.

“So?”

“So, will you take care of it, please?”

“I’m not dealing with it tonight.”

At this point every curse word known to man ran through my head. “Please? There is no way that I will be able to sleep knowing that thing is flying around. Besides, I think its landed over there.”

He mumbles a few more inaudible words (surely cursing me the way I had been cursing him) and gets up. I took Diva in my room and got back on my bed. Then the bat started flying in our room too. I screamed like a little girl every time it did its little swooping circle thing. And I stayed under the blanket until he told me that he’d smacked it and thought it was dead.

Then I woke CJ up too and told him what was going on. And I had the kids bring their sleeping bags in our room so we could close the door.

CB went downstairs to get something to get the bat with and I swallowed down my shrieks so I could stand watch and make sure the dumb thing didn’t fly away again.

He came back with gloves on and a bag to put it in. And our Swiffer with the extendable handle. He used that to push the bat out from underneath the radiator.

The damn thing was still alive! It started squeaking this horrid squeak and I was back under the covers in no time. But CB had it held down with the Swiffer and was laughing because it kept trying to bite it. Yes. Really funny, dear.

He finally got the thing in a bag, so he took it outside and beat it profusely with a two by four.

Everyone was wide awake for quite some time, giggling and talking now that the bat was safely out of our house.

I’m tired as hell and am just hoping to make it through today without falling asleep.

Edited to add: A little disclaimer. I don't often think before I speak. Which means that I often don't think before I post either. It didn't dawn on my that not everyone would just automatically know that we don't usually go off a-killin' around here. In fact the last three (yes three. Did I mention that I hate this house?) times we've dealt with a bat in here, we've let it go on about it's merry way. Because like Cat said, they eat mosquitoes. Lots of them. And since people in this state call the mosquitoe our "unofficial state bird", the Good Lord knows there are a plethora of those little bloodsuckers around. I just think that CB was frustrated and tired and he took it out on the bat. Plus, they have rabies and are scary and I do NOT want them in my house. So the duct tape should save anymore bats from meeting the same fate. I'm sorry if it offended anyone, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

The Ballad of Ricky Bobby & Other Random Randomness

Was fantastic! Two of the funny one-liners that I can remember (I was sitting in the theater wishing I would have had a notepad to write down all the good ones):

Ricky Bobby: "I get up every morning and piss excellence!"

Frenchie: (after he doesn't let Ricky Bobby pass and Ricky crashes) "Hakuna Matata, Bitches!"

There were a thousand others, and if you like Will Ferrell's comedy, you will LOVE this movie!

There was a guy behind us though that evidently didn't like it as well because he fell asleep and he was SNORING! How the hell do you fall asleep in a movie theater full of people laughing their asses off?

We also watched SNL: The Best of Cheri Oteri, which we purchased last night. I had forgotten all the funny characters that she had on there. I always remember the Spartans because I love them and am trying to convince CB that we need to be them for Halloween this year. I couldn't finish it, though, because I am an old fuddy-duddy and was too tired. But! I made it til almost 11:30! Yahoo for me!

--------------
Then last night I had a dream about The Ex. You know the one, the one you broke up with years and years ago, but you were CERTAIN he or she was The One? I hate when I dream about him because he was an asshole then. Of course now he's an uber hottie and he's a Marine*. And I know it was never love. But it was some damn good lust. And now that I've dreamt about him, I'll spend the next two days wondering "what if". But there is not what if. We're both happily married and are still pretty good friends, so there's no reason to doubt that things ended up exactly the way they were supposed to.

*This is another reason why it would never have worked. He has always dreamt of being a Marine and I have had strict qualifications that I would never marry a Cop, Firefighter, or Military man. It's bad enough to have a Brother in Law over there right now, I can't imagine having your husband go to a foreign place with no guarantee that he'll come back. I have enough drama in my life, I'm not about to willingly choose more!

Defying Gravity

I feel extremely un-entertaining today, but I finally found a recording of my favorite Wicked song that you can actually see. And it gave me the (almost) the same feeling that I had when I watched it at the theater. Goosebumps and breathless. So take a look and tell me what you think!

The Day That Will Drag On Forevah

I'm tired.

I'm tired and I don't want to be here today.

I'm tired, I don't want to be here today, and the day will not end.

That is, of course, because today is Child Free Day! As soon as I get outta here, I just have to stop at home, get re-prettified, and take the kids to my mom's apartment. Which means I'm excited. And when I'm excited, the day goes on and on and on.

CB and I are going to Talledega Nights tonight. Then we will be home by 10 and in bed (sleeping) because we are old and tired and a couple of fuddy-duddies.

Then tomorrow is shopping day! For the sole purpose of eating at Space Aliens. Now, if you don't live near one of these, you are missing out! The food is fantastic and the kids are thoroughly entertained for the entire time. Plus, there's a game room so horray for bribery! After we eat there, we'll probably jump over to the outlet malls because the incredibly shrinking me needs new clothes!

I never thought THAT would happen. After I had the kids, I ballooned up and I figured I would just stay there. Because even though my mom is tall and skinny, both of my grandmas were short and not so skinny. A fine quality in a grandma, but in a 26 year old who still insists she can shop in the "cool" stores? Not so much. So I started a workout routine that I stuck to during the school year. And I will probably go back to it once school starts again. I've dropped two whole sizes since February and I keep going! Can we say woo-freaking-hoo?!

But now, I must go back to the boring-ness of work. And try and find something to make the day go faster. Because I am DYING!

Edited to add: I just got a phone call from daycare. Diva isn't feeling well. So if she doesn't perk up tonight, the whole thing may just get shot to hell. And my head might explode. Stay tuned, y'all.

Things that annoy me.

This isn't a Thursday Thirteen, per se. Mostly because I don't think there will be thirteen things on the list. I'm a pretty easy going person. It takes a lot to aggrivate me. But the things on this list are things that make me want to take someone's head off. And they are probably stupid things to you, but I think we've already established that I'm strange. So here they are, in no particular order:



- Ads that are embedded into websites. You know the ones that I'm talking about. They appear as soon as you get to a webpage. They're usually advertising a movie or Oreo cookies or something like that. And they usually have sound that starts screaming at you. Wanna close it? Good luck finding the teeeeny tiny little "x" that is either all the way at the top or all the way at the bottom of the page. Grah!

- People who do not use their cruise control. This doesn't apply for all you big city-type folks. But I live in PO-DUNK. A traffic jam is five cars waiting at the stop light. Yes I said THE stoplight. There's only one between here and semi-civilization. Why would you not use your cruise control? Because it makes too much sense. It's much more fun to alternate between 45 and 75 MPH on the highway.

- Bad endings. I've discussed this before. I hate when a movie or book ends bad. Mostly because I read or watch a movie to be entertained. And when they end bad, I usually spend the next few hours overanalyzing and re-writing until the ending suits my Happily Ever After criteria. Pathetic, yes, but if people would just write good books and make good movies all the time, I wouldn't have this problem! :)

- People who don't control their children in public. Being a parent is hard, I know. But when your child bites another child and makes them bleed? And you don't do a damn thing about it other than laugh? That pisses me off. How can people who are trying to teach their kids how to play with others explain those types of things? Add also the people who just let their kids run rampant and expect other people to parent them. Sorry, but that's YOUR job. Yeah, maybe you didn't sign up for it, but it's a lifetime gig, so start acting like it!

- People who stop in the middle of an isle/mall/street/etc. Again, living in Podunk, I deal with this a lot. I'm all for stopping and saying "hi" when you run across someone you know, but DO NOT just stop in the middle of the road and expect people to maneuver around you! This is especially annoying when the senior citizen types do it in the grocery store. "Oh, Edith, I haven't seen you since yesterday! Tell me your whole life story. Right now. Don't worry about those other people. They don't have LIVES or anything that they need to get to." OK, so I've never heard that exact conversation. But sometimes that's how it feels. Really, is it that hard to pull your cart over and out of the way so that other people can get past?

And people who speed along in the mall, only to stop dead in their tracks at the sight of something they like. Granted, I've been guilty of this a few times. But that's usually when there's a big sign outside of Bath & Body Works or Old Navy that says "SALE!" or "Gift With Purchase!" or "Carrie! Come and make yourself bankrupt right here! Because it's so pretty!"

This only became annoying to me when I started trying to push a stroller through the Mall of America. Those strollers don't just stop at a moment's notice. And then it's MY fault that I ran into you. Please!

So I guess that's it for now. I'm sure I'll think of more as the day progresses. And who knows, round here I could always find a whole new one to add to the list!

100 Things About Me # 43 A

I glanced at my 100 things list yesterday, and it occurred to me that some of them maybe require a little more explanation than a list would allow. So (partially on a cue from Liberal Banana), I’ve decided to explain some of them further. In no particular order. But the one I’ve picked today is I think the funniest story of them all. And it gives a little more insight into my Redneck upbringing.

There was a pretty nasty flood here in 1997. Bad enough that we made national news (though not quite as bad as what’s going on by Jessica), and the worst of it hit our downtown. Which meant that a lot of the businesses had water in their basements. Which also meant that there was a whole bunch of furniture that ended up getting thrown away.

One night, a friend and I were taking our dogs on a walk when we spotted something purple in one of the big dumpsters downtown. We wondered what it was, and I decided to climb up the side to get a better look. Lo and behold it was a couch! Not just any couch, but a purple vinyl couch! It looked like it was in pretty good shape. And we joked about coming back and pulling it out to be used somewhere.

But as we continued on our walk, we became more serious about getting the couch. We started hatching a plan and rounded up a couple more of our friends (we tried to get it with just the two of us, but it was way too heavy). After one of them got off work, she came out to the car with her hoodie pulled over her head & singing the Mission Impossible theme. We drove back to the dumpster (this is about 9:30 at night now), and MI girl and I jumped in the dumpster to hand the couch back out to the other two chickens. . .err. . .friends.

It was insanely heavy! But we finally pushed it out of the dumpster. “Now what?”

“It’ll fit in my trunk.” So sayeth friend #1. We all laughed. Because even though it was a Buick LeSabre, it was NOT going to fit a six foot couch into the trunk. But she was insistent. So we tried it. Forwards and backwards and leftways and rightways it would. Not. Fit.

“Now what?” I asked again, after catching my breath from laughing so hard.

“We’ll put it on top of the car.” Friend #1 reasoned.

So we hiked this insanely heavy couch up over our heads and onto the top of the car. Which happened to be her mom’s. And I’m sure we put more than a few scratches on the roof. We didn’t have any rope or anything to tie it down, so we ended up all sticking one hand out the window to hold onto the dumb thing. By this time it was close to 10:00, and it was in the spring time, which meant that it still was really cold at night. And our hands would have been cold enough just holding onto the thing for the four blocks back to my house. But Friend #1 (she is my best friend and is freaking hilarious) decided that we needed to take back alleys and side streets. And drive on the side streets at about 50 MPH. My hands felt like they were going to fall off. I say hands because it was so cold I had to keep alternating which one was out the window.

We finally made it to my house and decided to put the couch in my parents’ garage. So we got it off the car and set it up. It was a perfectly good couch. It wasn’t wet or moldy or anything gross, so we couldn’t understand why they had thrown it away.

Until I sat on it and fell backwards. The back was cracked right along the line with the seat. Free recliner! We all laughed, but it stayed in the garage for quite sometime.

Tune in next week for the story of sneaking the purple couch into my school!

Sweet Relief!

Yesterday it was 100 degrees (F) out. That's HOLY-HELL-ON-EARTH in Celcius. That was just the temperature. Add to it the 70% humidity and we had a heat index of 118! And it was the fourth day in a row of that crap. The kids were going stir-crazy what with the no outside-ness and the don't touch mommy because it's to flipping hot to have anymore skin touching my body.

But! Last night! It rained! And choirs of angels sang down and said "Here! Sweet Relief!"

And I replied with "'Bout damn time, thanks much!"

So it's much nicer outside today, but the chilluns still cannot play because of all the rain. It does seem, however, that everyone's attitudes have changed once the temperature got back down below boiling. Or maybe it was just my attitude that needed to change because I wanted to kill anyone that came within ten feet of me. Nah. I'm sure EVERYONE had bad attitudes.

It's hard to believe that it's already August 1st. In just 25 days I will be the mom of a 7 year old. This does not seem possible for the girl who refuses to grow up. But I will be appropriately torturing him starting today by making him read for a half hour every day. I think I mentioned this before, but the hubs is on the bandwagon now. So that means that it will all happen. Because I am insanely lax when it comes to ritual-type thingies. That's why I don't have a workout routine. And also why I do really well at things for the first couple days, but then it's all down hill. But the hubs is a perfectionist extraordinarre. He will ensure that all of us spend our time reading.

So, since I didn't go get my book on Friday (too damn hot out!), we are making a trip to the little town that's 12 miles away, but has stores! With books! for me to pick up Wicked today. Because the Good Lord knows that I will not be spending a half hour of reading anything that's--like--enlightening or something.

We'll also be showcasing our extreme nerdery by watching day three of Shark Week on the Discovery channel. Yes, it's the highlight of our week and no, we do not have a life.

But! I get to be child-free on Friday night so CB and I can go see Talledega Nights! I'm so very excited! Not only for the hilarity that will surely ensue, but also for No Kids! At my house! For a whole night! Which means no sleep interruptions by people who sneeze and talk and snore and do all sorts of weird things in their sleep!

So you see, sweet relief abounds beyond all measure!