And just like that it's all over.

We had a very busy--but fabulous!--Christmas. On Friday night, CJ & Diva spent the night at my mom's house. CB made me a fantastic steak dinner and we spent the evening at home in blissful peace and quiet.

Then on Saturday, we went to get the kiddos, then saw Night at the Museum. It was AWESOME! So funny! And for a nerd like me who LOVES museums, it was heaven to see my kids so excited about it. Then we came home and wrapped the rest of the presents for extended family and opened our presents from each other.

Sunday we went to church, then it was up to CB's parents' house for lunch. A glorious lunch of turkey and smashed potatoes and corn and all sorts of other goodies. We opened presents there and CJ & Diva got this really cool marble labrynth thingie that they've spent countless hours building and rebuilding. I got a really pretty horse hair pot (picture follows below) and some moolah. Then we came back to town and went over to my dad's house. Diva got one of those new My Scene Barbies where you can push a button on their back and their facial expression changes. This sent me into fits of giggles because there is an expression that left my dad and I calling her Oral Annie. Seriously. Go to a toy department and look at one of these dolls. It's hilarious!

Monday we went to my mom's for lunch. Another declicious lunch of honeyed ham, pecan sweet potatoes, and many other goodies. There I got a bottle of the Olive Garden salad dressing, new pajamas, and Guitar Hero! It is the most fun game in the history of forever. And as long as I keep it on the "Easy" setting, I rock the house on most of the songs. I've been wanting it forever, since it's as close to being a rockstar as I'll ever be.

Yesterday I went with my Sister in Law after Christmas shopping. But not just ANY after Christmas shopping, we went to the big one--the Mall of America. It was PACKED, but as long as you stayed out of the kid-related stores, it was fairly tolerable. I scored some awesome clothes deals for the kids & me. Then went to Target where I got a pretty new tablecloth and charger for the center of my table:
It's pretty plain and simple right now (that's the horsehair vase in the middle), but I LOVE the colors. And it's not so "Christmas-y" that I can't keep it on there until spring time.

Also, since I'm posting pictures, here's our pretty little tree with the lights I don't particularly care for:
And a closeup of the stupid star that is beautiful but WILL. NOT. STAY. STRAIGHT. :
So there you have it. My Christmas weekend. I hope you all had a wonderful time as well!

Ho Ho Ho and all that.

This is what it did outside on Thursday:This is depressing because even though it has been freezing outside and we usually have a pretty good covering of snow by now, this is the first stuff that we've had all year. Before the white stuff started to stick, there was some sleet. The two combined turned my very dry (and very dead) yard into a pee-colored slushy mess.

The ice also meant that the children got out of school two hours early.

2 Children + Early Out + 1 more day 'til Christmas Vacation + 4 more days 'till Christmas = a serious case of the crazies. This is what CJ was up to within an hour of being home:
This caused Diva (who has a penchant for waiting until the last. possible. second. to go to the bathroom) to laugh so hard that she peed her pants.

I took this photographic and also have videographic evidence which I presented to CB with the understanding that I may not get out of the next week (I'll be home with them on their Christmas Winter vacation) with my sanity in tact.

So Merry Christmas, y'all! I'm sure I'll have plenty more stories to entertain you next week.

Homesick

My dad sent me this picture a couple of weeks ago. We had talked on my birthday last year (January 30th, so beware because I'm a total spoiled brat about my birthday) and I had asked him to find me a "California Sunset" to gaze upon. And he's been working on it ever since. He was trying to find just the right picture, and this is it. It's everything I think of when I think of the sunsets that I miss so much. The only thing I wish is that the waves were just a little bit bigger. But it's sufficient.

There are some days when I curse the circumstances that pulled us away from seeing this site anytime I want to. But I know there is someone else who has a much better plan for my life than I do/did. And if we hadn't left I would never have met Country Boy and I wouldn't have the little Mini-mes walking around. I would have become totally superficial and ended up working 80 hours a week just to afford the view that I'd always dreamed of.

Now, I'm only marginally materialistic on a bad day. I have a greater appreciation of things like family, friends, and life in general. I can appreciate all the beautiful things about my home state without having to deal with the ugly things. And I can take vacations there on occasion.

But when it's 25 degrees outside and I'm freezing my butt off, I can't help but wish for my palm tree-laden Christmases past.

How to Talk Minnesotan--The Glamorous Redneck way

When I moved from California to Virginia, I didn’t really notice much of a difference in speech patterns. The general SoCal speak is slow and drawn out. Granted I heard “y’all” a lot more on the East coast, but that was the only vocal difference I noticed.

However, when I moved to Minnesota from Virginia, it was a HUGE difference. I constantly found myself saying “what did you just say?” because people here talk so damn fast! My friends would constantly be rolling their eyes at me because 85% of conversations consisted of me saying “What are y’all talking about? Could you speak just a little bit s-l-o-w-e-r?”

There are a lot of other differences in pronunciation as well. Milk comes out as malk. Bag sounds more like beg. And words with an “o” in them are just different. Think the movie Fargo. Long and drawn out. Don’t even get me started on the whole “soda” verses “pop” debate because while I’m not nearly as stubborn as I once was, I will. Not. Bend. on that discussion. And I was so perplexed when people would ask me what I was having for dinner at 12:00 in the afternoon. I’d look at them like “what? I don’t know. Call my mom and ask her.” That is until someone was kind enough to actually explain that meals go like this out here: Breakfast (between 6:30-8:00 am), Lunch (9:30 am snack), Dinner (noon), Lunch (2:30 pm), Supper (6:00 pm). And after spending a winter here, I understood why they had so many meal times—you need all those extra calories to stay warm!

For the first year or so that I lived here, I was annoyed by all the pronunciation differences. I was certain that I wasn’t going to fall into that. I would hold on to my “Southern” accent for the three years I was stuck here and then I’d be gone. And, well, we all know how that worked out, don’t we?

While I still say milk and bag and hand correctly, I cannot stop myself from turning “gross” into “groooos” unless I’m actually thinking about what I’m saying. I hear myself and I cringe.

What about you? Have you moved around a lot and noticed different pronunciations? Or can you point out the regional nuances just because you hear them naturally?

Learning Experiences

You guys, I suck. I am sorry, but there you have it. There's been some trying things going on in the family (in law health crisis. Hopefully all worked out.) and I just haven't been much in the mood to blog. But I've got all sorts of good ideas to blog about, so I'm hoping the burnout is gone now for a while. SO, without further ado, I give you today's post:

Things I have lost since becoming a Mom:

Punctuality I have gone from a person who was perpetually ten minutes early everywhere I went to the person everyone is waiting on ten minutes after the designated time.

Manners I used to be “that” girl. You know, the one who would go out of her way to make sure no one heard her burp. Now, I’m not above muttering “Good One!” when one of the kids has trapped air.

Public Speaking Skills I was going to major in broadcast journalism. I was going to be the next Katie Couric or Diane Sawyer. Today was a good day because I formed a coherent sentence and actually spoke it correctly.

Memory I can barely remember what I did last week, let alone five years ago. And names? I used to have my friends’ schedules memorized. Now my life consists of post-it notes and reminders on my cell phone.

Things I have gained since becoming a Mom:

Patience Even when it’s taking ten minutes to do a two minute job, I have the ability to calmly remind them to get their butts in gear. And though my patience is tested on a daily basis, it also increases every day. Maybe it’s because they’re getting older and are becoming a little more self-sufficient. Or maybe it’s because we’re all growing up a little bit more every day.

Humility I’d love to meet any mom that says motherhood has not made her humble. Because when my two year old is screaming “Ouch ouch ouch” because I’m touching their arm in the toy isle and people are staring at me like I’ve taken out a beating stick, there is nothing else you can be BUT humble.

Unconditional Love You know it’s unconditional when you look at them not five minutes after they’ve done something bad and you get that feeling in your stomach. The one that says “There is nothing that I would not do for this child.” The unconditional love that is so fierce that it hurts. When CJ comes home from school and says that someone was mean to him, I want to just go and find that kid and ask them “Why? How could you be mean to this sweet little boy?” A little boy that is so tender and kind to everyone that he meets does not deserve to be treated like that. Or the girl that threw a ball at Diva’s head at the swimming pool that is lucky that I wasn’t there that day.


So what about you parents? What have you learned since becoming a parent?

The Post Every Blogger Does

I've been blogging for over three years and I've yet to do a post on how people are finding me. And with a name like Glamorous Redneck, I was certain the searches would be much more entertaining than they were at my last blog. Submitted for your approval, I give you "How People Come Across My Blog." A question and answer period by none other than your favorite Glamorous Redneck and viewers like YOU!

What do rednecks carry with them? Umm. . .lessee. . .I’ve got my checkbook, lipstick, my cell phone, credit cards, driver’s license and loose change all comfortably organized in a too cute for words brown purse.

Redneck thong Dude. Seriously? The skit on Foxworthy’s Big Night Out where Sara Evans has to be with the two hunter guys and ends up doing a commercial for their beef jerky underwear for the ladies comes to mind.

Glamorous Why thank you! I’m like #3 on this list.

What do you get a redneck for Christmas? Well, Country Boy, you could buy me this, or this, or anything fromhere.

If you really wanted to impress me, you could buy me this. And if you wanted to be forever be on the Glamorous Redneck Good List, you could buy me this (a steal at $4 Million on the ultra-glamorous island of Coronado). And then I would love you forever.

Redneck Christmas Well I don’t know about other Redneck Christmases, but as for our house, it’s going to consist of massive quantities of food, family, friends, and moolah spent on making sure everyone is happy.

I’m dreaming of a Redneck Christmas You are? Really? Cuz I’ll totally trade the RC for an NYC Christmas.

Redneck Christmas Traditions Again, I don’t know what other traditions are, but ours are fun things like Christmas caroling, baking, and making presents for all the kids’ friends.

Redneck parade What? There’s a PARADE?!?! Where? When? And why am I not the Grand Marshall?

Redneck car fixers They ain’t no good, I’ll tell you what.

Hangover shoulder hurt Oh, honey, if you hurt your shoulder last night, I’m the LAST person that you should be talking to. Take two asprin, drink about a gallon of water and call me in the morning.

This is as close to an entry as you're going to get today.

If my life was any more uneventful, I'd be resting in a pine box, ladies and gentlemen. So, you get a survey. I'm not going to tag anyone, because I'm sure you've all received this one in your inbox in some sort of shape or form. But if you haven't, and you want to do it, either fill it out & post it as a comment, or post it on your blog and let me know! :)

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
Hot Chocolate with lots of marshmallows, please and thank you.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
We don't really do the Santa thing. CJ figured it out when he was about 3, so there's just no point in trying. I do buy a few little stocking stuffer-type things that I put out after the kids are in bed.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
I love white lights on everything, but the rest of the fam likes colored. So I lose out on having my tree the way I want it, but I suppose it's ok. *sniff*
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
Negatory. Never really thought that was the coolest of holiday traditions.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving, but I wasn't really in the decorating mood until last week.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
Excluding dessert? What kind of fool wrote this survey?!?!? LOL I kid. Mostly. My favorite non-dessert holiday food is probably sweet potatoes (again, with lots of marshmallows, please and thank you)

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child:
When I was three years old, my mom and dad had one of their friends dress up like Santa and be in the house when I woke up. I sat on his lap and he asked me what I wanted most of all. I told him a Barbie and he pulled one out of his big red bag. It was awesome! I’m sure I couldn’t stop talking about it for WEEKS!

Also, the first Christmas we lived in Virginia. It was going to be our first “white” Christmas, and my bro and I were so excited for it to happen. By December 25th, there was still no snow at all. But around 8:00 Christmas night, a stead snow began to fall. It was the good kind of snow that stuck and shimmered like someone had sprinkled glitter all over the trees and grass. My brother and I just sat at the window watching it fall. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I still love that very first snow!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I was seven and my best friend told me. And I wasn't that upset until I realized that meant that the Tooth Fairy was fake too. Because the fat old bald guy sneaking into my house I could get over, but the pretty pink fairy with glittering wings? Still brings a tear to my eye. LOL I kid. Mostly.


9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
My grandma’s birthday was Christmas Eve, so we used to go over to her house after church and have dinner (usually enchiladas or some other non-traditional meal). After dinner, we would all open our presents from her. Now that she’s gone, I still let the kids pick out at least one gift to open on Christmas Eve.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree?
Much to CB’s chagrin, most of my ornaments are the Holiday Barbie ones that I've been getting from GlamorousMom for as long as I can remember. The rest of them are cartoon ornaments the kids have received as presents. Someday I'm going to have two trees, one with all of those ornaments, and one that has purple and silver balls with glittery silver ribbon (I’ve got the ribbon, and it’s on my tree now) winding all the way to the top!

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?
Love it when it comes on the weekend and I don't have to go anywhere. That way I can pretend that the kids want to go out and play when it's really just me. :) Other than that, I dread it.

12. Can you ice skate?
Never tried it. How odd is that? I’ve just always been so scared of the idea of walking out on a big sheet of solid water.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Hmm. . .probably my first stereo. I was 11 and there was this HUGE box under the tree. No one was giving any hints as to whose present it was, and when I finally saw that it was mine, I was flabberghasted! I had no idea what it could possibly be! And when I opened it I probably screamed. It was HUGE and came with a brand new CD player (again, huge and boxy. My how things have changed!)

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
FAMILY, Family and ummm.....FAMILY!!! Also making sure that I take time out for the kids to explain the real meaning of Christmas. But Diva just told me that it's lights, so I think I've still got some work ahead of me. ;)

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?
Open any Christmas cookbook and pick one! lol Probably kringla (a sweet-bread type cookie for those of you not blessed with Scandahoovian ancestors), haystacks and FUDGE.

16. Family tradition?
Watching A Christmas Story eight frillion times (You'll shoot your eye out!)

17. What tops your tree?
A pretty silver star that refuses to stand up straight.

18. Which do you prefer giving or Receiving?
I do enjoy giving things to people--especially if it's something that I know they've wanted for a long time. But I'm not gonna lie, I love receiving too!

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?
Oh Holy Night, Silent Night, It Came Upon A Midnight Clear, Santa Baby (Etta James' version), The Christmas Song and tons of others. I love them all!

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
I hate regular candy canes (unless they are crushed up inside white chocolate fudge), but I LOVE the starburst and other fruity kinds.

Where's MY Winter Wonderland?

I keep seeing all the news about everyone to the south of me getting hammered with snow. Even BSG has gotten her chance at being annoyed by the winter driving IQ drop. So where the heck is MY snow? My friends didn't tease me about moving to MinneSNOWta for no reason here, people.

The first winter we were here there was a TON of snow. The second winter we had so much snow that the drifts were taller than me and when it melted in the spring, all the white stuff led to a flood that shut down this entire region for a week. But ever since then, we've been skunked in the snow department.

And it's not ALL bad. I don't have to deal with driving on ice-packed roads to go to work every day. Nor do I have to scrape my windshield and brush piles of snow off of my car just to drive home.

Now that it's December, I'm standing around tapping my foot at Mother Nature, wondering where the Winter has gone. We did have one day when it snowed, but the ground was still too warm so it all melted right away.

It's making it very difficult for me to actually get into the Holiday spirit. Granted I've been a little cranky at this time of year for the past couple go arounds, but I can't help it. I'm still a little pissed off at the whole parental divorce thing that doesn't let me have my normal Christmas traditions anymore. But I'm trying really hard for my kids' sake. We've been to look at Christmas lights, put up our own decorations, and I've even busted out my Christmas socks (of which my supply is bountiful). Still, nothing's helping me.

So today's question is how do YOU get into the Holiday spirit? What really makes you wander around whistling "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas"?

Ch-ch-changes

I went out with a friend from High School this weekend, and it made me realize just how much I’ve changed in the past [almost] 10 years [gack. I am so old]. We went to “the” bar. Yes “the” bar. While there are two others in town, they are attached to restaurants, so don’t really count as a good old dive bar. “The” bar was having Karaoke, so I figured it would be fun as Friend is a fellow singer.

But we got there and I practically choked from the cigarette smoke. And the longer I sat there, the more annoyed I got. I haven’t been around that many people dropping the F-bomb as if it were breath since high school. I know everyone swears, and I tend to drop my own F-bombs every now and again. But there is a fine line between swearing because there is truly no other word that can express your particular emotion and swearing like a teenager who just learned their first big bad word. Everyone in that bar was on the latter side of the line.

So I left early and started thinking about something another friend had said to me recently. She had told me that she hates it when people change. This concerns me because I KNOW that *I've* changed in this insanely long amount of time. So was she saying it directed at me? Or does she not see me as changed and was just making a comment about someone else?

But doesn’t everyone change? Isn’t that a natural, healthy part of growing up? Because if I came across me at 18 now? I’d probably kick the selfish little brat upside the head.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments?

Achy Breaky Head

I think I'm coming down with [another] cold. It's been in the making since Friday afternoon, but seems to be culminating with the headache from Hades this morning. I spent most of yesterday sleeping on the couch (happens to be the most uncomfortable couch in the whole world, but it was free so there's that.), which resulted in my neck being out of whack.

So perhaps I have a case of never ending Turkey Hangover, but between the achy head, neck, and back I'm just not feeling like being at work today. I'm going to the chiropractor today, so hopefully two of three aches will go away.

However, in the midst of my napping (and turning off the Charger game because they were just plain pissing me off), I switched over to Hannah Montana for Diva. Have you all seen this show? And did you realize that it's Billy Ray Cyrus and his daughter? I had to do a double take because I just remember Paternal Cyrus in his mullet-sporting, line-dance-song singing glory circa 1993. And then I hated myself a little bit because I kinda like the show. Yes, as I've mentioned before, I will never grow up. But when I can find a show for kids that is actually entertaining to watch, I cannot turn it off.

It reminded me of a highly entertaining story from my very first experience with a good friend I like to call Rum and Coke. I didn't get to the point of puking, but I was drunk enough that I did not remember most of the night. My mom told me the next day that the highlight of the night was when I asked her how many hairs Billy Ray Cyrus had in the. . .errr. . .nether regions. She said that she could barely contain the laughter long enough to ask me why I thought she would know that. To which I responded "You like that stupid Achy Breaky song, so I just figured you would know." This is still a running joke to this day. So I can't help but chuckle every time I hear his name.

Now I'm off to find some good drugs to get me through the rest of the day.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Things I am thankful for:

My kids—They drive me insane, but when I wake up to the sound of them chasing each other through the house, giggling so hard that they can barely breathe, I realize I’m right where I’m supposed to be (well, that and the fact that THE LIST has worked wonders on our morning routine).

My husband—It’s cheesy, but we really do complete each other. When my sanity’s on the brink, he pulls me right back away from the ledge, reminding me that I am not a horrible mother and fixing whatever it is that seems to be driving me insane. I never thought that Happily Ever After was real until I started living it out. And of course there are spats and times when I want to strangle him, but when he hugs me and tells me it’s all going to be OK, I have to agree. (yeah, that’s enough sap outta me)

My job—I work for an incredibly family-friendly company. It has allowed me to work part time, basically setting my own hours. Which means that I get to spend more time with my kids. While this is probably a major contributor to the fact that I am in a constant state of frustration with them, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My house—I hate it, and if someone came today and offered to buy it, I would cry many, many tears of joy. But I am thankful that I have a house. There are so many people in this world that have to struggle even for that, let alone a huge feast of turkey, potatoes, bread and pies.

My friends—Both online and in person, I have the GREATEST set of friends on this planet. Y’all are a bunch of smart, funny, snarky, entertaining people, and I’m grateful to have the chance to meet you every day on the interweb.

So what are you thankful for?

Not the Mama!*

I didn't post yesterday because I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Have you (other moms) ever just had one of those days where you question whether or not you were really cut out for this whole mom thing? Because that's been me for the past two weeks! I wake up on the verge of ripping all my hair out and curling up in the fetal position and that verge doesn't go away until the kids are tucked safely in bed. A number of factors have contributed to this.

Mostly, I call it a severe case of Christmas-itis. You know the affliction, don't you? During the months of November and December, children all across the world become crazed with the notion of making lists of all the things they want for Christmas. The eyes glaze over, and attempting to talk to them about anything other than the Toys R Us Big Book results in blank stares and a whole lot of "What? I've never heard of that toy before. Can I have it for Christmas?" Followed by much internal screaming by the parental units when all they've said to the child is "It's time to go brush your teeth." Unfortunately there is no known cure for Christmas-itis, other than the actual day itself. The day after Christmas results in the normal, mild-mannered children that you are so accostomed to for 9 months out of the year (the other month is a different affliction I call Birthday-itis, with the same exact symptoms and cure).

Another thing has been the severe lack of listening on their parts. I have to tell them at least three times to get dressed every single morning. And we are constantly running out the door late. So thanks to CB, we have a new plan in effect. Each kid has a list of specific things they are expected to do before school, after school, and at bedtime. It's all very simple things like "get dressed" or "hang up your freaking backpack" or "brush your teeth" and so I don't think asking them to do these things without me telling them a million times is any large feat. We sat down yesterday after school and I explained all of this to them. And if they should make me tell them to do something, it results in losing their videogame time for 1 day/week/month depending on how many times I have to tell them. Both CJ & Diva seem to think this is an acceptable amount of expectation, so I informed them it would take effect this morning.

And when I woke up today, choirs of angels were singing! They were dressed! And fed! And happily playing together without incident. I breezed through my own morning routine and all but skipped out the door to take them to school! Now, if afterschool and bed time goes as well as this AND continues on for any length of time, I just might be the happiest girl this side of the North Pole. . .

*Anyone who can recall the show where a certain baby would say this will be forever on my cool list

I suck!

I swear I have one of the most uneventful lives on this here interweb. So I'm sorry if you've stopped by here expecting to be entertained. Because I suck!

Lunchie was good, conversation better. It was really good to catch up with my cousin because frankly? she ROCKS.

I did spend last night tweaking and re-writing a Christmas play I found online. Because we had bought this really cool play for our kids to do at church this year. We were excited because there are a lot of kids. Like 23 or so. But out of those 23, only 2 or 3 are actually willing to have speaking parts. SO when we tried to run through the play the first time (in the classroom, me their only audience), all I had was 20 very embarassed little children. Their faces were all red and they could barely carry out the actions, let alone try to speak. Needless to say, we had tossed the idea out the window.

But on Monday I came across a play that talks about Christmas around the world. It'll give the kids chances to be hula girls, mini-Steve Irwins, Angels, and Mary & Joseph. Without speaking! There are only 5 speaking parts (as opposed to the other play's 10+), and it should be pretty darn cute.

Only negative side is that I've been singing Mele Kalikimaka non-stop this whole week.

For my next post, I'm hoping to have something a little bit interesting, but I just don't know what to write about. Any suggestions?

Yawn

I'm still trying to recover from Tuesday night. I was far too crabby and tired yesterday to be able to tell you all how fantastic the play was. But it was AWESOME! Way better than the one I had seen in D.C. This one was the original Broadway adaptation--absolutely nothing like the movie but fantastic for all the same reasons.

Even better was the relatability factor. With Grease the movie, you have two pretty big name people in the title role. And you know them for the other things that they have accomplished outside of the character they play. But with the play, these people all looked like kids that went to my high school. Each and every one of them carried the character exactly how I had imagined them to be, only without that "big name" thing. It was awesome. And the food was to die for! We had a turtle cheesecake for dessert that literally melted in my mouth. I have NEVER tasted anything like that in my entire life! The only negative was the drinks. At first, I thought I'd be adventureous and try a Mistletoe Martini. It was pretty cool in theory--Vanilla Vodka & some other things that gave it a red and green look. And the drink was gorgeous. But it tasted like cough syrup. Nasty! SO then I went back to my new favorite--Cosmos. Because they are always good, right? WRONG! When that drink came, it was clear! Like no cranberry juice whatsoever! And again with the cough syrup taste. So I asked for a little bit more cranberry in it, and it came back with just a tiny little tinge of pink to the clearness. Bleurgh. But the food certainly made up for it.

Now I'm off to lunch with my cousin. I just happened to run into her yesterday whilst waiting for the kids at school. She's up from somewhere south (like Mississippi or something like that) for the week. And I know the drinks will be good because we'll most likely go to the coffee shop.

Odds & Ends

# of Days since Operation "Dammit I Need to Get Healthy--Again!" began: 2
# of ounces of water drunk: 76
# of trips to the bathroom: Too damn many to quantify

Now I remember why I strayed away from the whole "healthy" thing. When I drink my Coke (regular. Not diet) I don't have to go every five seconds. Now, the only thing I seem to get done is walk to and from the bathroom.

On the plus side, I'm increasing my step count. Yeah, I'm back to the pedometer. The goal is 8,000 steps per day this week. Yesterday and today haven't been going as well on that front, but I'm going to do really good the rest of this week!

**********

I'm going to see Grease tonight at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater. Everyone whose ever been there for a play says I'm in for a real treat, so I'm SUPER excited. The last time I saw Grease, I wasn't as impressed with it as I thought I would be. But now that I'm older and get a lot more of the "adult" references, maybe I will.

**********

I cut my finger last night. Bad. With a freaking butter knife. Actually, it was CB's fault because he was being stupid, but I'm the one who grabbed onto the knife. His response? Who gets cut by a BUTTER KNIFE? Well, evidently me, sweetie. Yeah. Hurt like a mo fo too. I told him I was going to turn him in for spousal abuse. He laughed & with the way the kids have been acting lately, I do believe this would be more of a vacation for him than it should be.

Realization of Humanity

So here's a funny story. . . I didn't get to sleep until about 3:00 this morning because I was scared I was having a heart attack. My left shoulder hurt something fierce and I had a little tingly sensation from my left earlobe down to my elbow. It freaked me the hell out. So I called the ER and they told me that it was probably a pinched nerve--nothing to be concerned with.

But when I woke up this morning, it still hurt, and I started to feel nauseous at work. This time I called the clinic, figuring I'd make an appointment for the end of the day. The receptionist kept me on the line until she could find a nurse, who then told me that I needed to be there right. now. I was at my other job, so I had to drive the 10 miles back to town so I could get to the doctor. They were concerned as to weather or not I was safe to drive. "I'm fine" I told them.

I drove 80 mph because I was *not* fine to drive. I was scared out of my wits. The whole drive, I could feel my heart in my throat and I was just crying and praying. Then I got to the clinic and felt like I was going to pass out in the waiting room. "Great" I thought "I'm going to freaking die in a waiting room."

I finally got into the doctor, who took my blood pressure and ordered blood drawn and an EKG. Then I had to wait. And wait. And wait some more. After about a half hour of worrying, he finally came back. Everything is normal (Praise the Good Lord). My blood pressure was a little high, but figuring the stress I was under for the hour before they took it, that was to be understood.

My orders were to come back in a couple of weeks and have my bp checked again. Other than that, I'm as healthy as can be.

But I can't tell you how insane that fear was. Fear that I wasn't going to see my family again. Fear that my kids were going to grow up without their mommy. Fear that I was going to miss out on so many more things over the rest of their lives.

So that's it. I'm on the workout plan hardcore next week. Because I will NOT make my kids grow up without their mommy.

Off to go hug everyone a little tighter. . .

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Hi Neighbor! I'm trying really hard to remain upbeat. One funeral was yesterday, one is tomorrow. All in all, it's been a long week for the kids at this high school. My heart is with them through all of this, but I'm trying to maintain life as normal as it can be.

And it truly is a beautiful day outside today! It's at least 75 gorgeous sunshine and a light breeze. Now, if it could be like this all the time (except for the week of Christmas, when it may snow 10 feet for all I care), I wouldn't whine about living here. But that would make my purpose in life disappear, and I would wither away to nothing. The negative side of all of this is the fact that the no-see-ums are out and about. And I forgot how much those little bastards hurt when they bite! If you don't know what they are, just thank the good Lord that you are safe.

I HATE the political season. It's kind of like Christmas--it starts earlier and earlier every year. Before we know it, the ads for the next president will start the day the first one takes office. But for as much as I hate the crap that leads up to Decision Time, I am OBSESSED with knowing the results. I tried to just go to sleep at my normal time last night, but my mind was racing with wonder. So I watched the news, only to see that the race for governer was essentially tied. This did not bode well for my mind. I can't go to sleep without the resolution, you know.

I got up, checked the stats, and was sufficently satisfied that Mike Hatch would win. Only to wake up this morning and see that our Tim Pawlenty rocked the house and won. The drama! The excitement! The sweet relief that this election is over and behind us!

I'm off to tap tonight, as is Diva while CJ is off to his little plaything. I started back into my workout routine (from which I'd abstained all summer long & was beginning to feel the effects in my pants button) yesterday, and my body is screaming at me today because of it. I hurt all over. So before tap, I'm going to douse my bloodstream with some Tylenol and hope for the best.

I've been working on getting a Glamorous Redneck store open over at Cafe Press. Only I suck at graphic design. Mostly because I don't own any of the Photoshop-type software. But, if I get this store up and running, would you be interested? Or would I be the only one buying a Glamorous Redneck thong? C'mon, be honest! :)

Rock the Vote!

I'm going to go marginally PSA on your asses today, so hold on!

I'm not going to tell you who to vote for, because--well--I think there's only one person that stops here from Minnesota and so it wouldn't do any of us a whole lot of good. So if you don't know who the candidates are in your area or what they stand for (and are sick and tired of the freaking political ads) go to Vote-Smart.org. You can type in your ZIP code and get a list of all the people on your ballot. If you can't get in there (it was being really slow when I was checking the link), then just go to your state's website. There should be a link there where you can actually see the ballot.

You HAVE TO VOTE! That's all there is to it. If you are 18 or over and an American citizen, you have NO EXCUSE not to vote. Think your vote doesn't count? There are probably at LEAST 10, 000 people in your state that feel exactly the same way. And that, my friends, is a decision making number.

So go now. I'll wait. Besides, I still haven't uploaded pictures from this weekend, so I don't have anything interesting to say.

Except Vote. NOW.

That is all.

I'm Glamorous Redneck and I approved this message. *snicker*

Another One

I was all ready to tell you about our fantastic excursion to the Mall of America (MOA), until we got a call yesterday afternoon that ANOTHER area teenager died yesterday morning.

I’m in shock. That’s one from each class except this year’s freshmen at our high school. The school that I live right across the street from, and where my girls I used to babysit are now sophomores and juniors. I want to just sit them down and try talking to them. But I don’t know what good I can possibly do. They will bury one of their school mates tomorrow, and I don’t know that the news has entirely broken about this kid.

I see a lot of people just sort of shaking their heads. Wondering what is going on, wondering what else can possibly happen. The kids are wondering which one of them is going to be next. And the adults are wondering how they can help these poor kids cope with the loss of yet another young life.

The thing with all of this is that there just isn't a lot of death around here. You read the obituaries and they are mostly people over the age of 85. So for these kids to have to bury four of their friends in the past six months, it's just totally unheard of.

It makes me realize (and appreciate) how sheltered we are out here. This will all be front page news because it just. doesn't. happen. If there can be anything positive out of this it is 1) these familes are surrounded by an entire community that hurts with them and is going out of their way to care for them and 2) my kids will grow up in a town where violence and death is not a regular part of their day.

And I think I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: I am a fixer. I like to fix problems and make things as painless as possible for everyone involved. So the fixer in me wants to just go to all these kids and hug them. I want to tell them that these were all freak accidents and the important thing is to appreciate the people around you because you never know when the last time you see them will be.

So, if you pray, please pray for all these kids. Pray for their parents and the leaders in our community to have the appropriate words to say to give them the most comfort possible in this scary time.

Just for today

Our area has lost another young life. A Junior from the high school in my town was killed this weekend while—ironically—filming a pedestrian safety video. My heart hurts for that family. My heart hurts for the family of the poor girl behind the wheel of the vehicle. A girl that I’ve known since she was 11 years old. She’s got a long road of recovery ahead of her, and I can only pray that she finds strength in the outpouring of support and well-wishing from the entire community.

I didn’t take it into consideration, but after reading an article in the local paper, that makes 9 people under the age of 20 that have lost their lives in the past eight months or so. All of these deaths were freak accidents. Like the paper said, none of these kids were doing anything that parents normally warn their kids against. One was riding his bike, two were on their way to a family member’s house, and now this poor family has lost their son because he was trying to do a really good thing.

It’s amazing, really. Nine people wouldn’t seem like a lot in a bigger city, I suppose. But if you consider the fact that there are maybe 20,000 people in a 50 mile radius, that is a LOT of young kids dying. So much so that a Christian radio show gave a one night concert to the biggest city around here, which has lost the brunt of youth. Five kids in one month I believe.

The realization is making it really hard for me to feel like doing the blogging thing. Now, I’m not going anywhere, because really it’s stupid for this all to upset me as much as it is. I didn’t know the kids, I don’t know their families. The only thing I do know is that I cannot imagine having to bury my child. And that is what’s hurting my heart most of all. I put myself in those parents’ shoes and cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I know it’s there. I know it’s strong and just as bright as it ever was. I just don’t know that I would be able to see it through the tears in that situation.

So I’m a little somber at the moment, but it will end. And then I’ll be back in full force, commenting on all of your blogs too. I swear. I’m allowing myself today to be sad. Tomorrow brings a new day, and a fun day for the kids. So come Monday, I’ll be back with stories and possibly pictures of how we spent our weekend.

All worked up for no reason

So my dad wussed out and didn't come to the party last night. Which is fine I guess.

And I guess he didn't really wuss out. Because Mom was at my house when Dad came by walking the dog. He goes out of his way to try and talk to her and she replies with one-word answers, if she's not busy ignoring him. Seriously, it's like having two kids in my house. But anyway, he left after a couple of minutes with an "I'm an idiot [because I still love her and would take her back in a second, but she will barely give me the time of day]" (I added that last part for clarification). So it was probably for the best that he decided to stay home.

Plus, it was freaking freezing out last night! I went out yesterday at lunch time & it was a beautiful day. 60 degrees out and the sun was shining--it was almost like Fall! When it was time to walk over and pick up the kids, I figured I didn't need a coat on because I was hot with one earlier. Boy was I wrong! In the 2 hours I'd been inside, the temp dropped about 20 degrees and the wind picked up. It was one of those blustery winds that chills you right to your marrow. And it didn't let up until about an hour ago. Cuh-razy!

Which means that it's going to be frigid tonight for Trick-or-Treating. Which means that I am oh-so glad that CB has elected taking the kids across the country side instead of sitting at nice, warm, cozy music practice for church. Hopefully I'll beat them home and have a batch of homemade hot chocolate waiting for them when they get there.

So Happy Halloween, everyone! Stay safe, and if you live up here in north country, stay WARM! :)

A Bit of a Quandry

I realize I've been in a bit of a funk lately, so if you're one who comes here every day, I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I guess no news is good news because there just really hasn't been anything happening that's been of interest.

That could change tonight. Because our community center has a Halloween party tonight. This is an annual event that my mom, my dad and I have been taking the kids to since Diva was a baby. Last year it was different because of the whole parents getting divorced thing. Glamorous Mom lives in a different city now, and couldn't make it to town for the party last year. She is coming this year. As is the Glamorous Dad. Neither of them know the other will be there. Is it mean of me to not say? Because if I would have told my dad prior to today, I would have had to listen to him complain about how my mom's off her rocker and him asking me if I have anymore inside information (which hello? She knows I talk to you every damn day, GD, why would she tell me anything?!?!?). And if I would have told my mom, she might not have come, which would devistate the kids.

So is it wrong? Is it wrong for me to want to try keep as many traditions alive as I can? It's not like it was a bitter knock-down-drag-out divorce, but there's still uncomfortable-ness involved. Then I'm constantly running between the two of them, making sure that everyone is as comfortable as they can be. But dammit, I feel like it's my right. It's like no one took into consideration the fact that them splitting up effects more than just them. And frankly, I'm still a little bitter about the whole thing. So is it spite that's making me keep this little detail from them? I don't think so. I'd like to think it's just my mamma bear instincts kicking in so I don't have to explain another absence to the kids. Because that pisses me off.

Anyway, /rant. I should have some more exciting details tomorrow. Perhaps I'll get lectured. Or perhaps everyone will get along famously and it'll just get the town talking about the fact that the entire Glamorous Family was sitting at the same table in the same room on the same day and--gasp--that must mean that they've reconciled.

The rumor mill, it is an endless source of entertainment.

High School Insecurities

It’s funny because when I was in high school (and cute) (and thin), I had this horrible self-image problem. I was constantly worried that I wasn’t good enough, fast enough, smart enough, or pretty enough for anyone to care. This was exacerbated when I moved in between 9th and 10th grade. I had just started to make friends, and now I had to start over again.

When I walked, it was with my head down. I didn’t want anyone to notice that I was the “new kid” (and in a small town like this, a new kid is practically front page news). I didn’t want to feel all the eyes on me. And I didn’t open up. Which meant that it took me a long time to make friends. Even when I did finally make those friends, I didn't really let anyone in.

It amazes me how truly insecure I was. And you know what’s even more strange? The fact that now, when I walk into that high school, my head instantly goes down, my arms hug around my middle and I can’t wait to get out of there.

So why is that? It’s not like I was picked on or anything. I was probably even one of the Populars if you got right down to it. I just don’t understand how those insecurities can still be hidden in me now, almost ten years later. When everywhere else I walk, it is with my head high, meeting everyone with a smile. I don’t think there’s a person I know who would consider the 26 year old (who’s now not so cute) (or thin) me insecure.

But I must still be. Or maybe it’s just that school. Coming into a small town and not being aware of how the system works is scary. Luckily I had a cousin here that showed me the ropes. Warned me which people to stay away from, and got me in with the very dear friends that I had while in school.

What about you? Did you spend your high school years with those insecure feelings? Have you walked back into your high school since then & felt them again? Discuss amongst yourselves. . .

The Sky Is Falling! The Sky is Falling!

There is a blindingly yellow orb hovering in the sky this morning! Surely the gray sky has dried up and is crumbling to the ground, leaving us all susceptible to alien brain-wave suckers!

What’s that you say? It’s the Sun? What is this sun that you speak of?

Seriously, it’s been so long since I’ve seen any sunshine, I was beginning to feel like it was already the middle of January, not the end of October.

Still tired, living a highly uneventful life as of right now. Don’t really have much to blog about.

So I’ll put it in your hands again. Any burning questions about a Glamorous Redneck that you MUST. HAVE. ANSWERED?

Then ask away. . .

Clues that I am too old for slumber parties

I went to St. Paul for the Women of Faith conference this past weekend. We left Friday afternoon & spent some time shopping beforehand. I had awesome luck & got a new jacket and jean skirt for me, three pairs of jeans, a skirt, cowgirl boots (she is her father's daughter after all) and a shirt for Diva, and a shirt for CJ. After using my coupon from an email I got, I walked out of Old Navy spending just barely $100. That is why I love that store! I had a bunch of fun coupons, but we were limited on time, so I didn't use all of them. Everyone I was with was surprised when I showed up with four rather large bags after just two hours of shopping. It's a gift, people.

Friday night after the conference, we headed back to our SUPER nice hotel room and stayed up all night. All. Night. As in I did not get to sleep from 8:00 Friday morning through midnight Sunday morning. I had little catnaps here and there, but nothing worth tallying up. And you know what the weird thing is? I wasn't tired. Like at all. Maybe it was the excitement of the weekend and all, but I couldn't even get to sleep last night until after 11.

Today, it has all caught up with me. I am wiped. I can barely read, a fact I was made blatantly aware of when I went to the store and bought Tide with bleach in the super mondo mega pack instead of regular Tide in the super mondo mega pack. We are a family of dark colors, so we would probably not use this box of Tide within our lifetime. Hopefully I'll be able to exchange it for the right stuff.

I also had to buy the stuff for the kids' costumes. This will go down on record as the cheapest Halloween ever. Total spent on each costume: $10. Diva is going to be a butterfly, so I just needed to buy her some wings, a black leotard, and black tights. I also bought black sweats for trick or treating because we live in the Frozen Tundra and it's too cold to be cute out there!

CJ decided to be Darth Vader, so I just had to buy him black sweats and a cape. He already had the talking helmet because my mom is a sucker and always buys them fun toys. Needless to say, I am pleased!

So how was your weekend?

The Stupidification of our Youth

We had parent teacher conferences on Tuesday. Of course, Diva and CJ are lovely and the teachers love having them in class, so there are no concerns there. The thing that concerns me is the kind of books they are putting out there for kids these days.

After conferences, I took Diva up to the Book Fair so she could pick out a new book. She quickly grabbed one with her favorite toy du jour, and we were on our merry way. I figured I didn't have anything to worry about, because I remember all our book fair books being the Cadelcott Award winners and things like that.

But when I got home, I was sadly disappointed. This book is TERRIBLE. I mean it's a cute premise and the general idea is good, but the vocabulary is atrocious! There are abbreviations of words that don't even make sense. And when it talked about best friends having sleepovers, it said that those times were great for LOL'ing. WTF?

Is that were we are headed? Do we need to start dumbing our kids down to speak cyber-lingo at the age of five? No wonder foreign schools are so far ahead of us developmentally!

I guess it just seems like the general quality of a lot of things has gone downhill as of late. Like the Powers That Be are more obsessed with putting out 10 loads of crap so they can sell as much as possible than they are with making sure what they get out there for kids is good quality story telling. I think of the dad in the movie Elf and how he wants to ship out a book where the last two pages are missing just because it will save them the cost of having to reprint the books.

And maybe I'm foolish to think that everything at a book fair should be of a higher calibur, but good Lord, it's SCHOLATIC! Scholastic should at least be. . .well. . .scholarly. Not like you're letting a 10 year old explain to a 5 year old what to expect now that she's got a BFF. Arrgh!

Perhaps what's bothering me the most is the fact that it's just making me feel even O-L-D-E-R than I already do.

What do you parents think? Have you noticed that the calibur of books has decreased in the bast 10 years? If not, what kind of books are you reading to your kids?

Also, there was a book that I loved when I was little, it was all done in black & white. You would read the story one way, then turn the book upside down and finish reading the story. It was super cool the way the pictures would change and was a really cool city story if I remember correctly. Do any of you remember a book like this? I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the book, so if someone else remembers it, PLEASE help me!!!

100 Glamorous Postings

I was thinking that my 100th post should be something of a retrospective. When I started this blog in May, I never expected it to be much more than my old blog. A place where I only had one comment about every three posts. And usually that comment was something from a stupid spammer. Then I moved to Blogger where there are way more people that come to see me. I probably owe a lot of that to BE, but I like to think that once I got into a better atmosphere, I became more excited about blogging.

There are some really cool people that I’ve “met” in the past five months, and I don’t think I ever would have if not for becoming Glamorous Redneck. I know it’s odd to say that I’m friends with people that I’ve never met, but it’s true. And I think I know more about some of you than I know about my best friend from High School.

The thing about blogs is that they allow you to be exactly who you want to be. For me, it’s a place where I can fully be myself. Y’all either like me or don’t, but I won’t really know if you don’t because I figure that those who don’t like what I have to say simply don’t comment. And that’s fine with me. There aren’t very many places in the world where I can do that.

So I guess what I really want to say is thank you to y’all. Thanks for reading my ramblings and putting yourselves out there for me to get a chance to know you. I look forward to another 1,000 more entries!

Glamorous Guest Post because I am Sick Again

*** This is ANO's guest post. My worthless ramblings follow the starts below***

First I want to thank the lovely Carrie for renting to me! I was very
happy to see that after giving her an arm AND a leg, she finally
accepted my bid. Just kidding folks, it was only half an arm.

I'm never sure what to say in a Guest Post. It's kinda like when you
go over to someone's house for the first time and you just sit there
on the couch with your hands in your lap. Ya'll know that feeling. It
includes that awkward silence and those looks of "what now."

I figured though that since renting is all about pimping another blog,
I'd pimp something I'm in. I'm sure most of you by now have heard of
25Peeps. Basicly it's yet another way to get traffic but this time it
all depends on a picture. You submit a photo of yourself and then hope
and pray that people click on you. The more clicks ya get, the longer
you stay! Pretty simple huh? Well, after waiting 2 months, yes you
heard me, I finally made it and my goal is to make the Hall Of Fame.
All I'm asking is you click here. That's it. Easy as pie!
Don't worry, the site has zero pop ups and everything is pretty clean
for the most part. You won't find any 100% nudity but you might see a
tummy which is mine.

If you click, I thank you. You're allowed to click once a day. Oh and
fella's, I'm sure you want to click the boobs with the purple/pink
border and necklace but those aren't a set of boobs. It's some dudes
ass.

Once again thank you to Carrie! You've been an awesome Land Lady!
Perhaps I'll share Dierks with ya!

*******************************************************************
Edit: The whole sharing Dierks comment reminded me that I got a PHONE CALL from his royal hotness himself today. OK so it was a pre-recorded thing & I'm sure 80 frillion other people got the exact same call, but DAMN I answered my phone and Dierks was talking!

Original Post: I have a nasty cold. Again. This time it seems to be shaping up to be a sinus infection, so woo hoo for me!

I will be revising this post with a guest post from ANO just as soon as I get it from her, but in the meantime, I'll entertain you with a freaking survey that everyone's favorite Montana Girl seems to be obsessive about. And has tagged me for it. So make sure you go over to Big Sky Girl and confront her, cuz we're staging an intervention, y'all.

3 Smells I love:
The Ocean
-Sex Wax© Surfboard wax (it's real, google it.)
-Good suntan lotion (the kind that smells like coconuts)

-3 Smells I hate:
-Driving through one of the little towns on the way to Minneapolis-it’s a combination of a sugar beet processing plant, an egg processing plant, and a fish hatchery. That crap is enough to make you gag, even with the windows up
-Sauerkraut
-Burnt Popcorn

3 Jobs that I have had in my life:
-Donut froster
-Student Center Manager @ college
-Video Store clerk

3 Movies that I could watch over and over:
-Phantom of the Opera
-Tommy Boy
-Sahara

3 Fond memories:
-Going to Disneyland for the first time
-My 26^th Birthday week
-Taking my kids to the ocean for the first time

3 Jobs I would love to have:
-Teacher
-Rockstar
-Professional makeup artist

3 Places that I have lived:
-Escondido, CA
-Temecula, CA
-Centreville, VA

3 Things I like to do:
-Look at other people’s blogs
-Write
-Read

3 Of my favorite foods:
-Tacos
-Fettucini Alfredo
-That Fiesta Lime Chicken at Applebee’s

3 Places I would like to be right now:
-San Diego
-New York City
-Washington, D.C.

3 Websites that I visit daily:
-eharlequin
-Blogs
-Gmail

3 Things that make me cry:
-Sad movies
-My babies growing up
-Leaving my family for extensive periods of time

Wanna play? I won't tag anyone, but if you want to post in my comments, have at it! Or, let me know that you've posted it on your blog so I can come read yours too.

Adventures in Chaperoning

I was going to post yesterday, but my fingers were so frozen from being outside that they didn’t defrost until this morning.

I went on a fieldtrip with Diva and at least 150 other Kindergarten and first graders. We went to a pumpkin farm that—if it hadn’t been so unbearably cold outside—might have actually been a really fun place to be.

About five miles away from the place, one of the three buses had a problem and had to pull over. So after about 10 minutes of reorganizing to get the kids from that bus onto the other two buses, we continued on our way.

Did I mention that it was freaking cold out?

And that I forgot my long underwear?

In all actuality, it wasn’t that bad. We were sheltered from the wind (which, hello? It is only October. We are not supposed to be concerned with a 20 degree (F) wind chill.), and most of the activities were inside (unheated) buildings.

After the first two places, we were supposed to eat lunch. And made a unanimous decision to eat on the buses because there is actually HEAT on them. But that was a fiasco as well, because there was another group still on the bus when we got on, so there was nowhere to sit. I had brought a little South Beach Diet lunchable-like thing that I figured I’d have no problem eating. And I wouldn’t have. If we had had tables. My knees did not serve sturdy enough, and I very nearly dropped the entire thing on the floor numerous times.

Once we were finished eating lunch, we went underneath the barn to look at female turkeys. Probably not the best place to go right after meal consumption. I headed back upstairs with one of the kids because he felt like he was going to puke. I wasn’t a bit sad about that because I was thinking it didn’t smell to fantastic myself!

On the way home, it was much less eventful. The little girl that was sitting next to me is one that Diva knows from daycare. We were chatting & I teased “Let’s have naptime!” She put her head on my lap and slept the whole way home. *tries to figure out how to harness her powers for good*

I’m really glad that I got to go along for the ride, I just wish it would have been a tish warmer!

Also, an update on the whole contact debacle: I found the other contact. On the sink in the bathroom. At home. Which means I DID NOT EVEN HAVE THE DAMN THING IN MY EYE!!!!!

Yes, reason number 1,561,284,581 why us “artificial” blondes give the rest a youse a bad name.

Go see my renter & other random randomness

So I was totally kidding last week when I said that everyone should send me chocolate. Lo and behold I get home from work yesterday and there is a large package in the mail. And, since I LOVE surprises, I was more than excited. I quickly tore open the package to reveal chocolate (caramel Hershey’s kisses, thankyouverymuch), a super cool magazine, a fun Halloween card, and a book that Big Sky Girl had said she was going to send to me (we had talked about it so long ago that I had totally forgotten about it until I saw her little note!). So now that I know who reeeeaaallly loves me, I’ll continue on with today’s post.

I was so excited this week when ANO had bid to rent my blog this week! She’s a super cool gal with a pretty pink layout. And she’s going to be a sexy ref for Halloween! Won’t you stop by this week and be sure to leave her a comment that GR sent ya!

Also, it SNOWED here this morning. The hell? Damn you, Minnesota! Just a few short days after I write a sappy post about how I’m starting to adjust and—hurk—maybe even like you, you go and do stupid stuff like this! Saturday it was so hot that we had to wear shorts. Today, I had to break out the turtleneck sweater AND the winter coat. And I’m STILL cold. Grrrr. I hereby declare that it shall not snow save for the week of Christmas. At which point it will snow 5 feet and cause us all to miss work. Then the day after Christmas it can all melt away and go back to a balmy 70 degrees out.

What? I don’t have the authority to request this? Fine. I’ll just bust out my electric blankie and spend the next six months huddled underneath it. Let hibernation commence.

Redneck Rewind

I was so busy telling you about how much I need to get to the city yesterday, I forgot to tell you about my fantastically redneck weekend!

Actually, it was only Sunday that was really redneck, but every day in Podunk is a RND to me.

CB is doing his mighty hunter thing (perhaps a name change is in order? Mighty Hunter might suit him just fine. . .), and he wanted to practice. He’s hunting flying things, so in order to practice, he needed someone to throw clay pigeons for him. No big deal, right? The City Girl figures that it can’t be much different than throwing a Frisbee. So I went out to the “shooting range” (which is actually just some old tires stacked up on either side of even older tree trunks that might possibly hold a paper target long enough for you to shoot at it a couple times) with the hubs and something similar to this:



See? It looks like it would be easy to operate, right? WRONG! After 25 tries (and only actually getting two of the stupid things out of the launcher), I had to quit. Because I could barely feel my arm! Whoda thunk target shooting would be such hard work?

Yesterday it was even worse. And I spent all day having to staple things. Do you know how awkward it is to try and use a stapler when your arm hurts so bad that putting mascara on practically reduces you to tears? Yeah. I ended up using my left arm quite a lot yesterday.

Now today it doesn’t hurt QUITE as bad, but it’s still pretty sore. I told CB that it was the first, last, and only time that I would ever be trying to throw targets for him. At least until we’re millionaires and he can buy one of those $500 set-ups where you sit in the chair and push a button.

After that whole ordeal, we went to see Open Season. Which was a lot funnier than I had anticipated. It’s not a purchasable movie by any means, but it was still good.

Now I’m off to find some high quality pain relievers. . .

Or you could just call me Little Miss Crankypants

I should know when it's coming by now. Once a month, almost like clockwork. I get cranky to the point of wanting to run away from everyone and join a circus.

No, not THAT, you fool! I'm talking about the need to get to Minneapolis. That was a condition of my not making my parents' lives a living hell when we moved here: We would go to the cities at least once a month.

Anyone want to venture a guess as to weather that happened or not? Surprisingly, it was fairly consistent. Although the frozen tundra of winter usually put a damper on travel (except for the time we went to Toy Story 2 on Ice. Remind me to tell you about that 4 hour trip).

But since I've been out on my own, it hasn't been nearly as consistent. And especially not since the OPEC oil cartel decided we all needed second mortgages to pay for our gas. Anyway, it usually ends up about four times a year, with intermittent trips to other, not nearly as glamorous, big city locals.

Now I haven't been since July and I'm getting that cranky feeling again. Usually a trip to the lesser towns feeds it, but I was in GlamorousBro's (Lord, he would KILL me if he knew that's what I was calling him. Tee Hee. Perhaps I'll make a shirt) college town just three weeks ago. And here we are, still cranky and still plotting what exactly it would take to get me committed to a Minneapolis hospital (not physical harm, you know, like a mental holiday). But! On the 20th I will be there! And it will be fabulous!

Then again in November, to go see Grease at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater! And in December to take the kids to see the Marshall Field's Macy's Christmas floor downtown. Which will of course mean that with no Dierks or Bon Jovi (shut UP, it's still fun to rock out to 80's music every now and again) or Nickelback concerts in the near future, I will not be back until next June. When the hubs wisks me away after I threaten bodily harm if I do NOT GET MY SHOPPING FIX!

Ahem.

What about you? Are there things that you simply cannot go without for long periods of time? (well, besides the obvious *wink, wink nudge, nudge*)

Bonus question: Next Monday will mark my 100th post here. Any requests and/or recommendations for some super fabulous post?

Also: Update on the whole eye situation. . .I don't think the contact was stuck in my eye after all. Once I got home, I had CB look and see if he could find it & there was nothing. And I talked to the eye doctor and they told me that I should at least feel some irritation, which I don't anymore. So I don't know. . .maybe it flew off to parts unknown. Or maybe it's all rolled up in my eye & I'll go blind. Because that would be oh-so-much fun.

Just call me Calamity Jane

I got contacts for the first time this past July. I love having them because I can finally wear the sunglasses that I’ve missed so much since my eyes have been on their downward spiral. But I hate it because I’m squeamish when it comes to the whole “touch your eye” thing. Maybe it’s a complex that comes from years spent being chased around the playground by boys with their eyelids flipped up (guh-ross!).

Anyway, last weekend, CB made a comment that I took great offense to. “I think maybe you’re too clumsy to have contacts.” Bah! He doesn’t know. However, after reflecting upon the events of the past three and a half months (or so), I do believe he may be right.

Case in point:

July-I lost one of my contacts down the drain. It had been bugging me, so I took it out. And dropped it down the drain.

August-Wore one inside out all day long one day. And wondered why my eye was bugging me.

September-I quit wearing them halfway through the month because it just was not working for me.

October-Last Sunday I almost dropped ANOTHER one down the sink. This is what caused CB to make the above stated clumsiness comment. Then about 20 minutes ago I was making up new file folders at work & one of them whipped up and hit me in the eye. Now I can’t tell if it sent my contact careening out of my eye to parts unknown or if it’s lodged underneath my skull. All I do know is that it ain’t where it’s supposed to be. My eye has been watering profusely ever since it happened, so I’m leaning towards the latter option. This has led me to believe that filing is dangerous work and should be halted at once!

OK, so maybe I am a little bit clumsy. So anyone know where I can get a stylish pair of safety glasses?

Dancing Queen. . ./New Guest House

Not so young or sweet, nowhere near 17. . . .

Betchya can’t guess where I went last night. OK, so I went to my dance class. And we started to learn a real dance!

I can’t believe how much fun I’m having. I guess I’ve really been missing out on something that inspires passion in me because I feel better emotionally/mentally/physically than I have in a really long time.

It also helps that it’s a really good workout that makes me not really feel like I’m working out. Pretty soon I’ll have legs of steel! If only those legs could grow about four inches longer. . .

By the way, have you taken a chance to go see my renter yet this week? I’m thinking we need to do something to spruce up the guest room a bit, what about you? *impersonates hammers, nails and other such construction sounds*

Ta-da! I present the new and improved Glamorous Guest House:
Isn't it gorgeous???

While visiting, make sure you take a minute to read in the Glamorous study:
(of course it's the drawing of what it looks like. Because I'm good. But I'm not THAT good.)

Or perhaps join me for a movie in our own comfy home theater:

For the ladies, handsome cabanna boys will be at your beck and call. And for the guys, a sultry cabanna girl (plus I hear there's a wet t-shirt contest down the block every Friday night) ;)

So what do you think,Hot House Momma Is this house hot enough for you? :)

So why don't y'all knock on the little window over -----> there and say hello. And if she's not around, I'll be whipping up some margaritas for us to enjoy here (or whilst oogling the hired help):

The Best Laid Plans. . .

It’s been a little somber around here the past couple of days, hasn’t it? I guess I’m in a mood. Surely the only way to fix it is for you all to send me chocolate. Loads and loads of chocolate. I’m not picky, but I prefer it with caramel in the center.

But seriously, I think I’m done with the deep thoughts. For the time being anyway. So instead, I present some randomness from my day yesterday:

You know how I was all “I have to go buy this movie today because it’s out,” yesterday? Yeah, well that didn’t happen. I ended up instead trying to strip paint off of our bathroom door. Paint that may or may not have come over in wooden pails on the Mayflower. Which, of course, means that it’s probably laden with lead and sure to kill me. But it won’t come off, so it’s probably no big deal. After hours of waiting, I finally got to take the paint scraper to it, only to have my hand cramp up half way through the job. “See, I’m much too glamorous for these sorts of jobs.” I told CB. He just laughed and rolled his eyes at me. But I’m not partaking in the scraping of the paint anymore. He’s going to pull out the big guns and sand the bastard until it looks pretty enough for me to paint.

Also, last night I was kind of excited. CJ had settled on something that he thought would be interesting. He’d decided to try Cub Scouts. And while I wasn’t totally thrilled with the idea of being thrown into the whole “den mother” thing*, I was excited that he had found something other than the evil PS2 that sparked his interest. So we got to the meeting, only to learn that there isn’t enough interest in this town to merit going forward, so the pack is disbanding. WTF? You couldn’t tell me that over the phone? Whatever!

I felt bad for the boy because we were only there for about 15 minutes. So on our way home, we stopped at the football field to watch his friends play flag football. Only to have THAT called early on account of the freaking LIGHTENING. The hell? Lightening in October is just plain odd. And the downpour that followed was even more odd. That’s the kind of stuff that is supposed to happen in July. Not October. I only expect this to mean that I will have warm weather all winter long. *falls over laughing at the sheer absurdity of that sentence*

So evidently I wasn’t supposed do anything that I intended to do. But oh well. It gave me good stuff to blog about.



______________
* I don't do the scouting thing. I tried Girl Scouts once. I was a Brownie long enough to order cookies & pass them out. THen it was all this "Kum Ba Ya" and camping crap and I? was not having it.

Why I need to buy The Little Mermaid

I remember the first time I saw it. I was 10 and my real dad took me to the theater. My parents were divorced and he was on one of his (then) very rare clean and sober sprees. I remember the day so vividly because when King Triton gives his daughter legs so she can live happily ever after with her Twue Wuv, you can see how much he loves her. And how much the love is reciprocated. I remember this because my dad leaned over to me and said “Someday I hope that I can be that for you,” or something to that effect. It broke my heart. I loved my dad. I (even at the tender age of 10) understood that he was sick, and I wanted nothing more than for this little statement to be true. I wanted him to get better and I wanted to have the kind of dad that all my other friends had.

I wanted to be Ariel. In fact, every time I went swimming, my friends and I would always play Little Mermaid. And since I had the longest hair (and almost red), I was her. I would jump as high as I could, flinging my hair back out of my face, just like Ariel does when she becomes human for the first time. And for those short hours I was her. I even sang “Part of Your World” in my 5th grade talent show. (If I can find a picture when I get home, I’ll post it, because it is hilarious!)

The years went on and The Little Mermaid came out on video. I watched it until I wore my first copy of the VHS tape out. One day my friends decided they all wanted to watch LM. I was terrified. Because every other time that I’d watched it, I had been alone. Allowed to sob uncontrollably as the words my dad had spoken to me echoed in my head. Reminding me that I hadn’t heard from him for the past month (again). Wondering if he was in jail, in rehab, or worse. ”I want to be that for you.” I tried to hold it all in. By then, my mom had met my step dad and were engaged. I shouldn’t have wanted something from someone that wasn’t in a position to give it to me. My friends all knew what was going on, but they saw me as happy with the new situation. And I was. I still am. I love Glamorous Dad. He is a great man. But every little girl needs her daddy. So, as hard as I tried not to, the sobs escaped. And I was teased mercilessly. Because no one ever knew why I was really crying. Why the Happily Ever After killed me each and every time I watched it.

I’ve never told anyone why until right now. And my dad has been sober for almost 10 years. We have a strange relationship to say the least. There is kind of an unspoken “I’m sorry,” from him and “It’s OK from me.” Because it was a sickness, and he’s tried to do what he can since then.

Sometimes it makes me sad that my kids don’t know my dad. Because now he is a fabulous man. And I know it’s got to kill him that he doesn’t know his own grandkids. But they are not old enough to understand the ramifications of it all, and I’m not ready to put my kids in that predicament. Because they know GD and he is their Pa-pa. Someday I’ll be able to explain it all to them. And someday maybe we’ll be able to go visit my dad and I’ll be able to introduce him for what he truly is.

But until that day, I’ll just let it be. Instead, I’ll make a special trip to semi-civilization to pick up the collector’s edition of The Little Mermaid. Because you never know when you’re going to need another copy.

Falling into Contentment

As of July 3rd of this year, I had lived in Podunk for 11 years. It’s getting closer to the point that I had dreaded: Soon I will have lived here longer than I did in California. Which means people might possibly expect me to consider this my home state.

For 10 of those 11 years, that was a scary thought. I was one of those annoying people that spent every breath talking about how I was going to get the hell out of here the day after graduation. And even though I did, it was only for a week’s vacation. This wasn’t supposed to be home. More of a launch pad than anything else. I wanted to go to college in Minnesota because a) it was way cheaper than San Diego State and b) supposedly it’s easier to get a job when you have a degree from a Midwest school. Something about the work ethic. I was going to go to college, get my degree and head back West. Then I met Country Boy and he was all “boo! California is for sissies! I can’t do my ‘mighty hunter’ thing out there!” and I replied “sure, pookie-bear, whatever you say. I looooooove you!” with stars in my eyes.

I imagine that there are people who knew me in high school that snicker behind their backs because of this domesticity I’ve fallen into. Heck, I wasn’t even planning on getting married. But I guess all of it means that our plans aren’t always the best plans. Because right now I can’t imagine my life any other way.

As for considering this my home state, I fell into a bit of contentment as the heat of summer melted away into the crispness of fall. My home state never afforded the joy of watching such drastic changes of season. It makes me relish in every heat wave (not without complaining, but when it’s 90 with 100% humidity, I think one is allowed some whining) because I know that there is going to be a day in the middle of January when I long for just ONE day above zero. Just like the days in the summer when I wish for a freeze to get rid of the mosquitoes.

And on Saturday, as I walked through a park with my little man, I realized how much I love fall. I love the way the leaves crunch underneath our feet. I love making them a leaf pile to jump in. And I love the way even the sky changes color.

I started to look forward to the silent winter nights. Nights when it’s just barely above freezing and the air is still. The snow looks like someone has sprinkled glitter on my lawn. And I wrap my coat tighter around myself and take a deep breath. And it feels good.

So maybe this is my home. And maybe—just maybe—I’m finally at a place where I’m OK with that.

This Week's Renter

Have you gone to see my roommate this week? If not, you totally should. Not only does she have a gorgeous template and one of my favorite songs as her blog title, but she's also a really good writer.

So go now. I'll wait. . . .

Old Habits Die Hard

I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I’ve been sucked back into the vortex that is soap operas daytime drama. The main reason that I decided to go back to work when I started here was daytime television. Even if I tried different channels, I could predict what would happen—down to the dialogue—every episode. Even weeks in advance, I knew that this person would sleep with that person or these two were going to fight. It was annoying, and when you’re only 20, the baby doesn’t talk back, and you don’t have any friends for a thirty mile radius, the soaps begin to make you think you’re going crazy. Or at least they did for me.

Two weeks into working, I was missing my daytime eye candy. I was missing the drama that made my life seem like a cake walk. So I started taping them. Three hours of soaps. And I never had time to watch them. But then came the Soaps channel! I could spend all day Sunday watching the marathon of the last week’s episodes. It was heaven! Then I remembered why I hated them.

But for now I’m sucked back in to General Hospital. It’s the same one that I remember watching with my mom when I was little. I remember seeing Luke & Laura’s wedding like it was a national holiday. And I remember back then they were cool.

What is the draw to these things? Aren’t we “supposed” to desire happily ever afters? So why is it that there are NEVER happily ever afters on soaps? Why is it that the two people who everyone and their mother KNOWS should be together have this tear-jerking, romance-ridden wedding, only to cheat on each other two months later with their significant other’s best friend?

Is it the fact that the men are all gorgeous (which, Steve Burton, if we were to ever both be single & meet in a dark alley, I cannot be held responsible for what I would do to you. Yummy.) and the girls get to roll around with all of them before they are run out of town or mysteriously bumped off? Or is it because, like I said before, it really makes us appreciate our simple lives? Lives without mob bosses or secret babies (although, there are some people around here that come a very close second to the drama)?

So that’s my question for you today. Do you watch soaps daytime dramas? If so, do you know why? What is it that draws you to them?

Glamorous Doctorines

I felt like having some self affirmation statements today. Wanna add to the list? Leave a comment.

I believe. . .
. . . that the kind of day you are going to have is directly related to how your hair looks when you’ve finished it in the morning.

. . . that there is no spousal argument that cannot be solved with chocolate, flowers, jewelry, or any combination thereof.

. . . that there is nothing more beautiful in the world than your child(ren) when they sleep at night.

. . . that a manicure can turn a bad day around.

. . . that margaritas are the most perfect alcoholic concoction on the planet.

. . . that a good cry every now and then is good for our insides.

. . . that you are never—ever—too old to twirl.

. . . that everyone can be a rockstar—in their car.

. . . that there is no greater picture of God’s sense of humor than looking at your child and knowing that your mom was right.

. . . that a good hair day is cause for celebration.

. . .that it’s OK for me to be happy right where I am.

. . .that it’s OK for me to want to move back to CA just as much as I want to stay here.

. . .that it’s OK to be a nerd. So long as we’re cute nerds.

. . . that good friends never really grow apart.

. . . that there are some days you just aren’t meant to get out of your pajamas.

You're next!

Not Dead Yet

I’m back from my near death experience. I think. I cannot remember the last time that I was that sick. And it wasn’t even one of the good colds that make you not hungry and cause you to lose weight by the time it’s over. Quite the contrary, actually, I was STARVING. Last night was the first night that I went to sleep without the aid of NyQuil or some other (legal) drugs.

You know that episode of “Friends” where Phoebe gets sick and her voice drops all low & sultry like? That was totally me for the past week. I think I’ve got my normal voice back today, but I’ve still got a cough that sounds like an 80 year smoker’s cough.

But now! I am back! And in the week since I’ve posted anything that was my writing and at least marginally entertaining, I’ve been to my first dance class! It’s fantastic and I love it & can’t wait to go again tonight! We’ll be learning a tap dancing routine and (thankfully) will not be performing in the recital. Diva also loves her class. We are both proud owners of our very own tap shoes. And it has taken every ounce of willpower inside of me not to wear the tap shoes every damn day.

Other things I’ve accomplished whilst lying on my death bed? Let’s see. . .I read a really good book. Not the one over ----> there, but a very good one nonetheless. I’ve also watched some really good TV. And if I actually had any control whatsoever over the remote controls in this house, I would be addicted to “Dancing With the Stars” and “Studio 60”.

I also did some plotting on what I might possibly write someday. That is, after I’ve got the house put back together and am not so tired that I get to sleep before the kids do. (had to edit that beccause after I read it and Jenn so kindly pointed out, it sounded like I beat my kids. Oy, the drugs need to get OUT of my system!)

So was I productive while I was ill? Perhaps a little bit. Not enough to be impressed with myself, but pretty damn productive for a person who felt like she was half dead.

Now I’m off to go see all of YOUR blogs and catch up on what I’ve missed out on over the past few days.

Glamorous Guest Post

As an added bonus to this week's renter, I offered Beth a chance to do a guest post. And I've been waiting with baited breath for the end result. I can tell you that it's freaking HILARIOUS! It's all completely satirical, so if you don't get that kind of humor (which I know that my three interweb friends get, so really this disclaimer is unnecessary), you should just skip this post.

So, without further ado, I present a guest post:

When asked to do a guest post during my rental period, I thought, ok, I
have nothing of interest to add to my own blog at the moment, what can I
offer to a Glamorous Redneck? Then it hit me. I live amongst rednecks. I
*am* a redneck, yet, I have never met a /Glamorous Redneck/.

According to Wikipedia:

"Redneck women are sometimes portrayed as sexually promiscuous as the
urban stereotype. Daisy Dukes is a name for the extremely small shorts
worn by the character Daisy Duke on the television program (and 2005
film) 'The Dukes of Hazzard. Rednecks are often broad-brushed as lacking
education or being ignorant."

Oh, that hurts. I haven't done the deed since Bubba ran off with
Larlene, the bar maid down at the Blue Horse Bar and Grill, two years
ago. And trust me- my fat ass isn't going to fit in Daisy Dukes-I'd be
lucky to get them up over my calves. As for lacking an education? I can
count to 10- 20 if I use my toes, 40 if I stomp my feet.

I envy Glamorous Redneck. I will never get out of this holler and live
the good life. If I could win the lottery, I'd buy me a new double-wide,
4-wheeler and a Chevy truck-with a gun rack, of course. I want to know
her secrets. How does a redneck woman become glamorous? Please, Mrs.
Glamorous Redneck, share your secrets. Redneck women all over the
country could learn from you. Write a book. Use me as your example.
Before and after. You have achieved what all redneck women want- living
in an Avon world with a Mary Kay attitude. Do it for us. Teach us, oh
great, glamorous one.

(This is meant as sarcasm-for one I totally am a redneck and I don't
give a flying pig's butt what anyone thinks. I'm proud of where I come
from as I am sure Mrs. Glamorous Redneck does. If the post offends you,
take some white out to your monitor).

Like what you read? Then make sure you stop on over to Beth's place. Feel free to give her some of your own glamorous pointers. I'll be back when the medicine haze is completely gone and I can justify the questions she raises with an appropriately amusing response.

Hazy Memories

The head cold from Hades has invaded my head as of late, so instead of boring you with my whining, I thought I’d pull a hazy memory from my drug-filled haze of a mind. A memory that made me chuckle on my way to work this morning. Involving me, a friend, and my first/last/only dance with the Mary Jane. Yeah, cuz I’m hardcore like that.

When I was in 8th grade, a friend of mine (we’ll call her Alex for the sake of the story) had this HUGE crush on a guy (we’ll call him Steve) in our grade. This guy also happened to be one of those guys that your mamma warns you about. Nine times out of ten he came to school high, and how he never got caught is still a mystery to this day. Because you could just see it in his eyes.

Anyway, even though he was a big loser, he was also super cute. And he liked Alex too. So one day he invited her over to his house to “hang out” and I, being the ever-supportive best friend that I am, gave into her begging and went along for the ride. Only she couldn’t tell her mom where we were really going, so her mom dropped us off at some cheesy little strip mall a couple of blocks away and would be picking us up after a couple of hours.

We trudged through all these stupid back woods (just in case her mom came back early) and met up with Steve at a bike track. Then we proceeded to his “friend’s” (read: dealer’s) house. As soon as we got there, the guys closed all these super dark window shades and started rolling up a big fat one. I was fascinated by the whole ordeal. The way they sliced into the cigar and packed the goods back into the wrapper, then sealing it up like it had always been that way was amazing to me! When they offered it up to us though, Alex and I both refused. By this point, it was just starting to kick in that we were not in a very safe situation. I glanced over at Alex, but she seemed fine, so I relaxed a bit.

The room was dark for about a half hour while the boys all went about their business. Alex and I began feeling a little giggly. It was pathetic, really, and I’m pretty sure it was mind over matter because all of a sudden we were STARVING and oh my gosh, y’all we’re gonna DIE if we don’t get some food soon. The guys all agreed by this point, so we all walked back to the strip mall where we were supposed to be shopping and went to Taco Bell. Between like 6 of us I think we had $5. So we all pooled together and bought a few tacos. Alex and I ended up sharing ONE taco.

When I think back on this part now, I think of the scene in Eurotrip when Scotty and the girl twin are in the Rasta bar in Amsterdam and they’re all “Oh my God, I’m totally tripping right now!” and the Rasta Man is like “Dude, there’s no weed in da brownies!” Because while we could have had a room buzz, there was NO WAY that we were as high as we thought we were.

The worst part of it was riding home with her mom. We were totally paranoid that she would smell it on us. Luckily she didn’t. Or she did and never said anything. But when we got back to her house, we had about an hour before my mom was coming to get me. And I knew she would smell it. She’s got a nose like you wouldn’t believe & could tell when I’d tried a cigarette for the first time—even though it had been six hours earlier.
So I took a shower & got most of the smell off of me, but my clothes still reeked. “What am I going to do?!?” I was freaking out by this point because I was sure that this would be the last straw with my mom & she would send me off to an all girl’s school or something.

Our solution? Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth perfume. Practically a whole bottle of the stuff. Now, if you don’t remember EY, just think fruity with a tinge of something that stings the nostrils. I don’t know why, but we were both obsessed with the stuff. So, I doused all my clothes with EY and sufficiently masked the eau d’weed from my mom.

This is one of the very few stories that Glamorous Mom doesn’t know about. At least not to my knowledge. Because it was stupid and dangerous and I could have gotten arrested. So, kids, don’t try this at home.

And don’t ever—EVER—douse yourself in Electric Youth. Because if you catch even a hint of it ten years later, it just may send you into convulsions.

******
Also, I didn't write the letter. I mean I wrote it, but I didn't get it in. I missed the deadline and think two weeks from the incident is too far away. Besides, the more I thought about the fact that this whole pit of serpents I live around would be judging me was enough to make me all nervous and twitchy. Cuz I'm not that brave out here in Podunk.