Glamorous CONTEST!

This is one of the few weekends of the year that I actually embrace the whole "redneck" thing. Semi-Civ has its County Fair this weekend, which means FAIR FOOD! Fried cheese curds, mini donuts, pork chops on a stick (don't knock 'em, they're DELISH!), and various other artery-clogging goodness. It also means it's time for the demo derby.

The first time CB tried to convince me that a demo derby would be fun, I was like psssh, wtf-ever. Please, let me pay money to go watch cars crash together. But I was outnumbered and so we headed up to the racetrack. And it was a blast! I want to go BE a demo driver! We've gone the past three years, and the kids can hardly wait for tomorrow night. Their favorite part? When the cars fishtail towards the crowd and spew mud up at all of us. Ok, so maybe I think that's kinda fun too.

They've outnumbered me again this year, and are making me go to the tractor pull tonight. Again, no interest whatsoever. Do you think I could convince them to just drop me off at the mall while they went and watched loud tractors pull a bunch of weights? Of course not. So, I'm trying to being open-minded. But I don't have my hopes up.

Also, make sure you tune in to Mr. Fab's weekly radio show where Yours Truly will be his guest host. I'm nervous, but excited. But I'll be even more excited if some of you will either call in or IM Mr. Fab with questions. Like, if you're reading this and you have a question asked on the radio show, I'll enter you in a drawing for something that is as yet to be determined because I just thought of this right now. But trust me, it'll be cool. So. Got a question you're just dying to ask? Click on Mr. Fab's website and look for instructions on how to get your voice heard! Then listen, and email me at the address over ---> there with your snail mail address and I'll pick a winner on Monday.

Glamorous Embarrassing Moments

So Friday we hopped on the extremely cramped bus and drove a little over an hour to a little town called Sandborn. There we traveled to a farm place where the guy authentically built sod houses (using the actual tool and everything) with the exception of adding a rubber inlay so as to save himself the trouble of having to rebuild them every five years or so.

These houses were insanely small. So small that I don’t think I’d be able to get all of my clothes inside of it and still have room to move, let alone live there with four other people who only bathed once a week. There is also what’s called a “soddie”, or a rich person’s version of the sod house. It’s a bit bigger, and you can actually stay in it. Seriously, they’ve set it up as a bed and breakfast! People actually pay money to dress in pioneer clothes, have no electricity, and no running water. Crazy, I say! But it was done up really nicely and unless you looked up and saw all the branches holding the roof together, you’d never notice that you’re in a house built out of dirt. Needless to say it was a very educationally awesome stop.

The next stop was a town called Walnut Grove. This was evidently one of the multiple places Laura Ingalls and her family lived whilst she was growing up. Her book On the Banks of Plum Creek is set along a pretty little creek (Plum Creek, if you can believe it) just a mile or so outside of the town. We started out there, walking over to where Laura’s dugout was located and where the table top mountain is, then down to the Big Rock where she’d watch the cattle go by (if you’re a nerd like me and have read the books a frillion times, you’ll know just what I’m talking about.).

After that, we headed back into town where the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum is. They have all sorts of fun things like replicas of the school house, another sod house, a church, and Grandma’s House. They also have the actual mantle that was inside the Ingalls residence on the TV show.

Inside the gift shop they had cool things like pioneer clothes you could by, old TV memorabilia (including a Bionic Woman lunch pail thermos. I have no idea what that has to do with LIW, but it was a cool find nonetheless.), and authentic toys and candy. CJ bought himself and Diva some marbles, a little toy where you try and get the ball into the cup, and a rock candy sucker.

We headed back home and CJ was sufficiently appreciative of how easy we have it now. He had no idea how kids managed to survive without Play Station 2.

But the best story happens to come from the sod houses at Sanborn. CJ’s teacher informed all of us chaperones that we needed to walk in front of our group of kids. I had been walking behind because I figured this would be the easiest way to keep an eye on them all. So, when she said to get in front of them, I stepped off the little gravel path to try and sneak up in front of them. However, I tripped over something in the grass. While I’m usually pretty good at recovering from a trip (I do this quite often), I couldn’t recover from this one. So three stumbling steps later I landed with a big ol’ THUD and my face in the grass. The kids all thought it was funny and I hurt nothing but my pride. The rest of the day my little group of kids kept making sure that I was in front of them. I told them I was just trying to prove why it’s so very important to STAY ON THE DAMN PATH!!!

So there you have it, a Glamorous Redneck embarrassing moment. But hey, I never said I was Graceful.

Adventures in Gardening

The thyroid drugs have given me a much needed energy boost. I no longer spent each day living for the next opportunity to sleep. In fact, I can barely fall asleep at night and am waking up before my alarm. After spending the majority of my life NEVER waking up without pushing the snooze button at least once, this is a new feeling and I’m not entirely sure if I like it or not.

So, in my new burst of energy there was this hidden Suzie Homemaker boost. I’ve suddenly decided to do things like “cook meals from scratch” and “drive a mini-van”. But perhaps the strangest new development is my desire to "have a garden". My Aunt is practically a professional gardener. I’ve tried several times to have little flower gardens with marginal success. I don’t know why I do this. I hate the whole “weeding” business and cannot even keep houseplants alive for more than a month, because I conveniently forget to water them.

Last week I got a wild hair and went to the nursery for some plants. Marigolds, snap dragons, pansies and impatiens have all been grown before with mixed results at Casa de la Glamorous. But then I decided to buy some tomato plants because I a) know absolutely nothing about growing vegetables! and b) hate tomatoes! However, I do love me some salsa, and the thought of being able to make my own salsa held some appeal to me. And, with this whole healthy eating kick I’ve been on, I’ve decided that I need to try to like some more healthy stuff. I used to love cherry tomatoes when I was little, but then I discovered things like Mochaccino M&M’s and DiGiorno stuffed crust pizzas and my secret recipe Chocolate Chip Cookies and all those healthy things sort of jumped down to the very bottom of the list. So, I’ve planted three different types of tomatoes: one for salsa, one for cooking, and one for eating raw.

Yesterday, I totally thought I had killed them all off. We had 90’s for temperatures on Sunday and Monday, and then the temperature dropped down to 68 yesterday. All my poor little plants were kind of wilting and looked half dead. So, I hauled out my trusty watering can, mixed some Miracle Gro in and tried to revive them all. Lo and behold, this morning they are all looking oh-so-perky and may have some new blossoms on them. I’m waiting not so patiently for the snap dragons to bloom because they are my favorite to play with.

So, once the plants get some more pretties on them, I’ll be sure to post pictures (including a montage of how I play with snap dragons in case you’re thinking I’m a freak. Which if your just thinking it now, you’re probably reading for the first time, so Hello! Welcome!!).

Any well-seasoned gardeners out there that want to share advice would be forever on my favorite people list.

A bit of a quandry

When I first saw the movie Grease, I was about three years old. Maybe older, but "You're the One that I Want" has been ingrained into my head for as long as I can remember. And it's been one of my top ten movies since those days.

For Christmas one year, my mom took me into DC to see Grease on stage. It was fabulous. A little different from the movie, but still fantastic. After we walked out of that show, I swore that if I ever had a chance to be involved, I would try out for a stage version of my favorite movie.

Then we went to see it again this past November. And it cemented my resolve to someday be my favorite character (believe it or not, Rizzo is my favorite)on stage. But, we live in an area where the culture doesn't so much exist.

So imagine my surprise when I saw that the community theater in a town just 30 miles from us will be putting on Grease this summer. Tryouts are in about three weeks. When I think about even getting the chance, I get little butterflies in my stomach. I mean, it's probably a frillion to one odds that I'd be cast as Rizzo--it is a college town with a pretty strong theater arts program--but even to just be a part of it is a dream come true.

But here's where the problem lies: The kids don't want me to do it because it would probably take up a lot of my time for rehearsals and such. I don't know that I have the time to dedicate to it. It's 60 miles round trip, and with gas getting to that dreaded $3 mark right now, one can only imagine what the price will be this summer. So I don't think CB will go for it either. I haven't even talked to him about it.

What do you think? Do I go for it anyway and point out to the kids that there's really not THAT much time taken up? Or do I wait for the chance somewhere else down the line? Word on the street is that the choir director here in Podunk has hopes of starting up a community theater, but who knows if Grease would ever be there?

My First Car

Eleven years ago—right around this time—my grandpa called my mom to let her know that he’d found a car for me. When Mom hung up the phone with him, she told me the news and told me that it was a Bug (that’s what Grandpa had said). “Woo Hoo!” thought I. I’ve always loved Volkswagen Beetles, so I was ecstatic at the thought of getting one of my own. He told Mom that he’d be home in a couple of hours & we could come take a look at it.

However, when I got there, I found this*:



Which is not this:

“What IS this thing?” I fumed to the adults.

“Well, I guess it’s a Chevy Chevette,” replied my mom.

This did not a happy Glamorous Redneck make. Not only was it NOT a Bug, but it had 4 doors! Like a family sedan! Gack! I will so NOT be cool when all my friends see this. Plus, I’m a Ford Girl (make fun if you must but YOU WILL NOT CHANGE ME), so the fact that it was a CHEVY was enough to make me hurl. And on top of all of it *I* had to pay my grandpa $500 for this POS.

“Whatever,” I finally answered. I mean it WAS a vehicle. It did give me freedom to not rely on my parents for transportation anymore, so I was game.

I came to learn that this was a car with character. When I was finally able to get my license (in July, not January because of when I had to take driver’s ed), I wasn’t allowed to take the stupid thing out of town. It would randomly do things like flood when I stopped and just quit running as I was driving down the street. Worst of all, only one of the speakers—which happened to be in the back on the passenger’s side) worked. I basically told everyone that I was NOT paying for this car anymore unless they fixed it for me (seriously I have NO IDEA where Diva gets her flair for the dramatic). My dad thought he could fix the stereo problem, so one Saturday afternoon he took it all apart, only to find that he couldn’t fix it, and had instead killed the entire system. I was livid to say the least. So, I stole his little radio from the garage and planted it in between the driver’s seat & the passenger’s seat.

I don’t remember why, but my mom finally decided to let me drive the car out of town. When I was about 10 miles out, the speedometer quit working. Like would not move from 0. And I drove it like this for almost a year without being pulled over! Then the horn stopped working. THEN I was in a hurry one day and didn’t realize I’d already turned my blinker on & ended up breaking the blinker thing-y off, so I had to jam my thumb up inside the steering column to use my signals. It sucked.

When winter came around (yes, this was all in the first 6 months of having this car), I gave up on the thing and told the parental units that I was not driving it anymore, and they would either have to let me take their car or they would have to play chauffer. I figured this would get me a new one because I worked at a bakery & had to be to work by 4:00 on Saturday mornings. My plan was foiled and instead of getting a new car, they just paid to get all the things wrong on the ‘Vette fixed. So I was stuck with it.

I drove the car (which my friends and I had dubbed “The Stylin’ Black Bug” or “Bessie” depending on how she was behaving) until the June after I graduated. Then my parents upgraded their car & I got their old one.

But that was an awesome first car, not without it’s good memories (like going into a ditch backwards and having two drunk guys have to pull me out) (or locking my keys in the car and having The Ex come and break into it for me). And it has made me fully appreciate the cars that I’ve had afterwards. Now, I almost wish we would have held onto it because it got awesome gas mileage and would have made an awesome beater car for CB to drive to and from work.

So, what was your first car? Did you love it? Do you still have it?

*(also, let us discuss for a minute the hideousness of this fashion choice. I call it "2 grunge 4 U" my entire wardrobe from 1994-1996 consisted of various colors of this outfit. Oh, and one skirt, which was totally hot. Also, do you see the skinniness? I want to strangle 16 year old me and say "You WERE skinny, you FREAK! Now wear some damn girl clothes! I should also discuss the hair, which I had dyed a month before this picture and had been green for awhile before it faded. And I do believe I had just gotten off work & so my hair was matted down from all the donut grease.)

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.