The memoirs of my day vacation: The Shenanigans

We awoke from the chaos into the world where instead of life trolling us, we trolled life. At the end of this day, I made my nephew play Ice Cube Today Was a Good day on his iPhone. You should probably listen to it while you read this post.

I actually woke up at 8AM. Maybe earlier. This is important because had I slept in to 10, the whole day would have been fucked. Sometimes it really pays to get up before you want to and be the responsible adult you couldn't wait to be growing up. You don't have to do that every day. Just important ones.

READ PART I of this series here, The Chaos
READ PART II of this series here, The Mayhem
(this is part III, the final part, except for extra photos coming soon)

After the continental breakfast deal, I packed everyone up and left. But before I left, since I just did recently blog about tipping, this is how I tipped housekeeping.

I don't usually tip them this much. It's just that it was a huge suite, and we did use the sofa bed. Had one of the kids peed the bed, it would have been much larger. I also wrote the note in English and Spanish because when I met some of the housekeeping staff in the elevator and started chit chatting with them, they understood less English than my brother-in-law who doesn't speak English. They might of been speaking Chinese for all I knew, but Spanish is the second language someone around me speaks fluently enough to translate. Had I gone French, it would have pretty much said, "Bonjour. Ca va? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Baisez vous." That pretty much translates to, "Hello, how are you? Would you like to go to bed with me tonight? Fuck you." Yep that's about all I can say anymore beyond the Pledge of Allegiance to the American Flag (took it in high school if that wasn't already obvious).

You might be a redneck if you add this to it... (read it in your Larry the Cable guy voice)

So then we took off to the zoo. I drove. (Duh. Did you read the last post?)

I look much better today don't I?
Hair is pulled back for proper momming functions.

For those thinking of ever going to the zoo, it looks farther from downtown on the map than it really is. I would say we got there in 20 minutes. That might be because I CAN drive like I'm from Boston (pronounced Bah Stin, like a sheep Bah Bah Bahstin). I was fortunate because I rented a car, which meant it had a different license plate than my state (good ole West By God Virginia), so every time I cut someone off or was a total asshole on the road due to the fact that my husband was The Navigator, people were going, "Damn Mississippi drivers." Sorry Mississippi.

By the way, I do think I was wearing an ugly shirt.

My kids walking to the zoo, all cute like.

Getting into the zoo was awesome, and I'll tell you why. My husband and I got in free, so we only paid 50 bucks for the kids to get in. How did we get in free? Well I did have a coupon for $2 off that I decided not to use because apparently, military gets in free, and this includes veterans. All you need is your DD-214 (or active ID).

I was worried that my nephew might hate the zoo and get bored, but he didn't. I guess you are never too old to go to the zoo. I had fun too. I couldn't go anywhere without making some stupid, silly, funny comment that made everyone around me giggle or stare at me like I'm again, a crackhead.

But you know what? You are just not better than me if you can't figure out what the animal is enough to associate it to some cartoon character to help the kids make the connection. I don't care if people thought I was on crack when I walked up to the Lemur and broke out into, "I like to move it move it..." Or when I went to the leopard and explained to the kids that it sang a song with Bruce Willis on the Wild Thornberry's Rugrats movie, even if it wasn't the same leopard. Or when I said the tigers were "Grrrrrrrrreat" all Tony the Tigerish. Or that I kept referring to whatever fish it is as the Dory Fish. And I might of broke out into "In the Jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight," at the lions. I also explained to my girls that the lioness does all the work while the lion is a lazy man.

And you can't tell me I'm the only mom to break out into the map song every time we grabbed the map. If there's a place you got to get, I can get you there I bet, what's my name? The map. Say it again. The map.

Me and my girls.

My mom instincts were with it. I was like a savage, instinctive animal who looked into the animal areas and could spot out every lost sippy cup, bottle, and bink. 

Future mug shot faces, or duck lips gone wild?

My oldest daughter had the iTouch with her, using it to take pictures. At one point, I told the kids to pose for a picture, and she wanted to sit that one out to play a game on the iTouch. What? Child we are at the zoo. That thing is for pictures only. So here's that picture. The other 2 were mocking her. She was in a better mood 3 minutes later, about the same time some other family decided to hog the growth chart for pictures.

I think the fact that I never really did a growth chart at home might have caused some Freudian complex because my girls ran up to each one of those things and measured their height.

Giraffe does not approve of your parenting.

Now of all the animals, my favorite was the giraffe, and only for reasons of this story I'm about to tell. Like me, she had her mother instincts in super hyper drive. It was the funniest shit I've ever seen, and I'm the only one who noticed. The only people in this area at this point were me and a family of 5 people who weren't even looking at the giraffe. They were doing something where they were turned away from it huddled together looking down, talking to each other, looking for something. Maybe the map. One of the kids, about 10 years of age, climbed the binoculars thing standing one leg on it and the other leg on top of the bars we weren't supposed to cross while looking down. The giraffe instantly looked over, stared for a minute, turned her head and eyeballed the kid, then walked up to the front, closer to us, as far as she could go, never taking her eyes off the kid. The kid got down and the family walked away never glancing at the giraffe, even though I was pointing and laughing screaming to the husband what just happened and to hurry come get a picture of this. The look she gave them was priceless. The husband got this shot in, right at the end of the look. It was better seconds before this picture. It was definitely the ghetto, "Mmm hmm, control your kids bitch." Then she turned around and walked back up to where she was. No wonder Toys R Us uses a Giraffe to brand their image. Mind you, she, the giraffe, might be a he.

Note: I'm posting more picture of the animals in a different post. The Giraffe is in it.

After telling all 3 kids to get off the branch, I stood with
the 3 year old who stayed behind to argue with me about it.

Usually the thing I don't like about zoos are the monkeys, because of the smell. Fortunately and unfortunately, this zoo keeps the monkeys behind glass. Shitty pictures. No smell. My kids loved the monkeys though, and they were ooh ooh aah aah ing all the way through it, which I think added to the atmosphere. Others walking near us might disagree. I don't know why they would.

The monkeys were also strategically located in the middle of the walk giving the children that energy burst they needed because something about being inspired to climb shit is like liquid crack to my kids.

I like to move it move it. 

Just had to. The Lemurs were in there too. Pictures of all the zoo animals are going to be placed in another post. I'll link at the bottom once it's up.

So then we hit the worst part of the zoo ever. The Aquarium. 

My little Annie amazed at the Penguins.
See how dark that area is?

I started off looking forward to that part thinking it was going to be air conditioned (it was, but you couldn't tell). I love the whole aquarium feel. The fish. The water. It's relaxing. Not at the zoo. Not with the kids. In reality, it's a dark place with windows of fish, on both your left and your right, full of other people and their children in the clusterfuck of ooooh, look at this's. If you have more than one kid with you, even crazier because one kid is staring at the blue fish, one at the red fish, and the other ran off to the one fish while the husband is at the two fish and your life all the sudden makes as much sense as a Dr. Seuss book.

Five times, I had a heart attack because I lost a kid. Not the, "Shit, where is? Oh there she is." No. It was the, "Where's Solma? Have you seen Solma? Solma? SOLMA! SOLMA!" running around for 5 minutes before I find her staring at the jellyfish telling everyone around her about Spongebob. Did that once for each kid, including the 13 year old, except twice for Solma, and the kids on the autism spectrum, yeah scary. I can't go a day without reading about a missing child with autism. The water? That's worse. Water is the pied piper beacon for autistic children who always seem to forget they can't breathe water when mesmerized by its liquid, wet texture. (Note: not all autistic children are obsessed with water, but it's more common than trains).

Not to mention, the space was small for the amount of people there. If you have claustrophobia like I do, plus some social anxiety issues like I do, it's not a fun place by yourself.

The bottom level of the aquarium wasn't so bad. It was well lit with a lot of space. There was a place to pet the StingRay. I did. Why? Because the kids wouldn't until I did. Reminds me of the time back in the day when I was jailbait when I got my bellybutton pierced at some random street corner at Myrtle Beach because everyone else wanted one but was too scared to get it. It was a church function.

They also had crawl space for the kids to crawl under the Sting Ray. I only lost one kid, Annie, once with that, for a whole whopping 15 seconds. That's when I discovered the crawl space area went through to the other side. I should have low crawled it first, but I'd have to have a responsible adult present for that, and I only had my husband. He was so NOT helpful keeping track of the children in the dark fish cave like I was going to trust him with that for a minute.

We skipped the kid's ride area because it's more money and we were on a schedule. It was time to go to mommy and daddy's favorite thing. But before we left, we hit the store to get all the kids something.

Gabby grabbed a stuffed fox because it was soft. We didn't see a fox at the zoo.

Solma grabbed a pink purse with a pink penguin on it.

Annie wanted whatever Solma got.

My nephew chose the 10 dollar pixie stick.

Children probably should never be given that amount of sugar at once, ever. I'm just happy I didn't get any for my kids. My nephew didn't just get a sugar high. He was sugar drunk, for the rest of the entire day, up to like 1 AM.

In the car ride home, at about 10 PM, he called his mother randomly and said at 125 words per second, "I totally left my meds at Aunt Michelle's house and haven't taken my pills in 2 days, so I decided to fill myself with lots of caffeine and sugar instead." My sister has to think I suck. My husband thought it was hilarious. I was not amused.

My nephew (13) also seemed to prefer classic rock over top 40 when sugar drunk. It was worth it for that alone. I may pump that child full of sugar again just to get a break from Radioactive and Take me to the other side, and that one Justin Timberlake does that quotes Kung Fu Panda... all songs the radio stations play once every 4 songs. Though Alice Cooper's song about stealing cars might not be an improvement on influence. Musical quality yes. Stage make-up definitely.

My favorite part of the day... Brace yourself. Too much awesome. 

Now might be a good time to play this song...

After the zoo, we went to watch the Steelers practice next to a cornfield. Right as I sat my butt down to watch them practice, the oldest had to pee. Of course. I tried to make her wait, but she was relentless. So we go to the bathroom, which ended up being a perfect time. The janitor was talking to some other woman about where to stand for autographs. Apparently, the place they tell you to stand isn't the place to stand. So I jumped into the conversation and got some insider information on where Ben Roethlisberger has been signing stuff. Then when we were standing above the bleachers later, the same janitor stood next to me to point exactly where we want to be standing. She did it all top secret, like the mafia talking in front of the Feds. That made me feel like Christopher Walken.

So after practice, we made sure we were standing there with footballs and a pen. Ben starts to walk over, stops and starts talking to some people in the middle of the field. Keisel joined the conversation at some point. Everyone is screaming for Ben to come over. The guy next to me explained that the last time they practiced, Ben didn't stop to sign anything. I panicked. So I took off my outer shirt and showed some Glory.

Taken from the suite earlier that day. 

Can you find Jesus?

Hey, don't knock it. These puppies have gotten me free food, free drinks... They got me into the club at 16 years of age. They got me jobs. I'm very used to my milkies getting me my way. And this was not only important, not only a desperate time requiring desperate measures, but it was also for a good cause. To my left was a kid with Down Syndrome wanting Ben's autograph. To my right was a kid who didn't think Ben cared about his fans anymore. My boobs helped save Ben's career.

So according to the jealous husband, Ben noticed. Multiple times. From the field right before saying, "Are they saying my name over there?" While signing the kid to my left's stuff. While signing my stuff. While signing the kid to my right's stuff. And what better timing Ben because I was really starting to feel old, fat and frumpy. I thought maybe it was time for the milk jugs to retire. To hang up their nipples until the next life. 

Despite all that being true and fact and a little fiction, Ben didn't want to sign my cleavage. I DID ask him if he wanted to. He just giggled and was like, "That's okay." I'm just going to believe that it's because my husband and a bunch of children were standing right next to us. It's not because I'm an old fat frumpy mom. Nope, not at all. 

BTW, I think my boobs made him blush. That's why his face is a little red in the picture. Has absolutely nothing to do with a 5 hour practice in the hot sun.

Then as we were driving home, we ran across this sign (the traffic light is the only reason why we have a picture of it). I think it rather sums up my trip perfectly.

You're Welcome McMichael for the free advertising.

In case you hated Black and Yellow (because it should be Black and Gold as there's no other reason not to like that song), there's always this

Bet you didn't know I was a rebel at the pool today...

Today, I got yelled at by a lifeguard because she thought I was going to slide down the slide with the 3 year old, and I wasn't. I was just trying to get her to slide down. You would think the fact that my fat ass itself wasn't anywhere near the slide (I was standing the whole time, and we are talking a 3 foot slide if that) would clue the poor daft blond teen. I had to scream across the pool because bitch wasn't getting a clue. Cmon now, if I went down that slide, with my boobs, in that bathing suit, I'd flash the whole world and give all the married men wet dreams for the rest of their lives. I'm not in the mood to take on a mob of jealous wives. That should also have been obvious to the silly blond girl.

THEN, I got dirty looks from lifeguards when the pool closed. Three year olds have to do EVERYTHING THEMSELVES, including getting out of the pool. So we humored her, let her back in long enough to walk herself out since her stupid father had to go and carry her out knowing much better than that... Then I told the hubs, "I don't think they approve our parenting." He's like, "Just wait until they have kids. Karma's a bitch." I'm like, "How much you want to bet they read my blog and be like, 'it's like she really gets me,' having no idea they just eye rolled the person who wrote it..."

A couple years ago, a lifeguard whistled me for employing the use of the F-word with my husband. See, my mother in law was in town. She's a bitch. She's worse than that, but we'll stop at bitch today. She was in town. We planned for days to take the kids swimming that day. MIL was all for it. Not one complaint. Not one "I don't really want to." No, it was, "They'll love it." Now I know some women hate the pool because bathing suits, but this woman is from Puerto Rico. She goes to the beach and the pool all the time. So when she made my husband leave me with a baby and two toddlers who can't swim by myself at the pool last second decision so she could instead go antique shopping, this momma wasn't happy. Of course, that day, my oldest daughter, like 4 at the time, befriended the kid who won't listen to anyone and breaks all the rules, so when that girl dove into the lazy river to swim with the current, my daughter followed. I lost my mind. Called the hubs. Demanded he get to the pool. He did. He was pissed. AT ME. Fucker what? Fucker you pissed at me? So was his mom. This was before i knew she was a cunt. I went off on him. 3 snaps and a neck roll. Nobody was around who could hear us but the lifeguard and my kids. I couldn't even hear other people's kids screaming.

So what does life guard do? Blows his whistle. Yes that ballsy little zit faced snot blew his whistle at me, mid rant. "Don't use the f-word." Fuck you talkin about? What fuckin F-word? "That F-word." Why? "Kids are present." Where the fuck do you think they come from? "It's a bad word. You shouldn't be using it." Really? Bad word? Well I'm French. It's not a bad word in France. "You are not French." Baisez-vous! Oui je suis. I am French.... That shut him up. BTW, I'm not French. I eat French Fries a lot, but I dip them in ketchup and that's pretty American.

I don't get lifeguards. I guess they get bored and have to troll once in a while, though the ones I seem to attract the most attention from don't seem to always require intellectual stimulation so I'm not really sure.

I also discovered today, at the pool, in the bathroom waiting for a kid to pee, I have my mother's ass. It's her ass. Not her sexy young woman's ass. No. Her I got old frumpy yet incredibly sexy for reasons beyond my understanding ass. She didn't really form it until her 50's. I'm no where near my 50's. My ass is aging too fast. I know. I know. I should try pilates or something.

And I need to clean my house like a cat in heat needs to go outside, or the vet... I'm vowing to do so tomorrow because my fortune in my fortune cookie says, "You will soon achieve perfection." Good enough for me. I think I'm even going to scrub the shower and change the shower curtain (if I can find the new shower curtains I bought for such an event). Yeah. It's been that long.

That last part was random. I know. I should probably end all my blog posts with the status of my house, not to brag, but so that you guys feel good about yourselves. It's almost like watching an episode of hoarders except I actually clean all the stuff a lot. You just can't tell. BTW, I always clean with the kids present. Yeah, I basically nail Jello to a tree on a regular basis. Of course, you can't tell because the Jello keeps sliding off, but that doesn't stop me from trying ALMOST every day.

And swim carefully. Lifeguards be tryin to catch you swimmin dirty. Remember also, a drowning kid is usually a very quiet kid. Don't trust a lifeguard to figure it out. They are too busy saving you from the Fuck word.

The things women do to cover her nipples...

This morning, I woke up and it was cold. So I was wearing this white tank top and black yoga pants and decided to put on a sweatshirt. I kept my house near igloo status all day, so I was comfortable in this sweatshirt, that was until I left to go to my mother's house in a huge hurry.

Why a hurry? Because I'm me. Because I woke up, baked cookie bars from scratch, rushed them down to my nephew's bake sale, talked to people, came home, took a 20 minute nap, gave the kids a bath and was already running an hour late getting to my mother's house for the family dinner that entailed family coming in from out of town. They called me like 10 times to ask me when I was going to get there because calling people like that ALWAYS makes them move faster. It NEVER interrupts people from doing things that would get them there faster to answer the phone. For whatever reason, things like dishes, folding laundry, shampooing a kid's head, buckling the car seat, wiping a poopy ass/changing a diaper, walking with 20 million things in your hands and taking a dump seems to send that telepathic invite to your loved ones to call you. It's like magic. It's to a point where I purposely do the dishes so that someone who didn't answer their phone will call me back.

My car, the Escape (pronounced Eh Scah Pay), I've had her since 2004. The model and name is very fitting considering I once needed to get away from this place and everyone, and the military was my ESCAPE, which was exactly when I bought her. She's my horse. One time I was lost in Wyoming during a freak storm where there was hail and flooding and sirens going off all over town to get indoors, and I saw the road I needed to be on, but I couldn't find a road to get me there. Instead, I found a very muddy field. That girl drove through it like it was gravel. If you own a field in Wyoming and wondered who drove through it one July back in 2006, that would be me. I was really really lost and I'm sorry.

Anyway, Eh Scah Pay being so old, some things don't work anymore, like she's gone to the mechanic a few times for it and they can't get it to work again. The AC is one of them. So this sweatshirt got really hot. Fast.

Problem is, white tank top underneath. I don't know who the fuck designs these clothes. I can't tell if it's men who do this on purpose, or gay men who wouldn't know better, or really dumb women, but any tank top with a built in bra anymore has one of two things... If it has pads, those things fold up in the wash forcing you to fuck with bra cups for an hour so you don't have lumpy lady lumps. or Two, if it ain't black, you are going to see nipples. In my case today, you can see my nipples like a wet t-shirt. And all I had over it was a sweat shirt.

It would have been a long hot flash at my mom's house if I didn't get creative fashion designer on myself... check it out...

(P.S. Excuse my fat. I recently ordered a tub of Trader Joe's Cookie Butter, so I've been putting it on everything like honey buns and chocolate cookies).

Notice my stunning sunglasses? The hair style is hot mess, and I think I wear it well, especially when coordinated with the no make-up witch face. Now on the right, check out that ass... That's a cookie butter ass. Sexy shit. Well, not really. Like the ass is sexy. The shit, not so much.

Remember when people used to tie their sweatshirts around their waist? Yeah, this is the new way to tie them now. Really it is. I swear to you. All the cool people wear their shirts like this now. Mmm Hmmm. TRUST ME.

10 Things I learned so far today, before 10AM...

1. Zip ties are awesome. It's like the new duct tape.

2. If you are looking under your hood and see your car battery in a place that makes you think, "These engineers are so stupid to put a car battery there," it's very possible the engineers aren't stupid and the car battery slid out of place.

3. People who know how to jump cars don't always know when to jump cars. This woman was offering a thousand times to give me a jump, while my car was running, just because I had the hood up. I. love. her.

4. When wires are sparking from hitting the belt in the car, the burning smell resembles that of a single cell organism in a petri dish.

5. My mechanic is a little OCD

6. I might drive a little crazy, like it's not normal for kids to go "weee!" while driving on the interstate is it? I also realized, like an epiphany, they do that frequently when I drive, the "Weeeee!" and only when I drive.

7. Pre-school wasn't cancelled on Wednesday. Oops.

8. All carbs turn into sugar. I didn't know that.

9. Billie Jean is not Michael Jackson's Lover.

10. I have awesome cleavage.

Roundhouse Bitch

Why Sylvester Stallone should choose me to play the role of his girlfriend in the next Expendables if they do another one, which they should:

1.  My father raised me to watch movies like Rocky, Rambo, Cobra, Tango and Cash... as well as Invasion USA, Delta Force, Missing in Action... and the Die Hards (and everything Bruce Willis was in including Breakfast of Champions which I didn't understand at all because I don't smoke crack), and whatever movies Van Damme was in including Bloodsport. I've probably seen all those movies at least 100 times.

Here we are about to kiss... look at the chemistry!!!

2.  I keep having a recurring dream where I'm the love object of the next Expendables, and my dreams are usually psychic.

3.  I also had a dream where I was on a date with Sylvester Stallone. I was like, "You want to watch a movie?" and he was like, "Anything but Rocky," and I was like, "How about Rambo?" He was like, "I'm going to the kitchen." So I go in to the kitchen with him, we both grab for the same knife at the same time and we kiss. It was awkward because I thought I was too inexperienced for him, so now I have to kiss him in real life to prove to him I am not too inexperienced, I know what I'm doing, and it's the best gotdammed kiss he'll ever have in his whole freaking life.

4.  I'm funny. In the dream I just had, Sylvester was like, "Honey, this might get dangerous," and I was like, "Please, I have children, nothing scares me." And, there was a part where Bruce Willis was like, "If you fuck up this job, I'm going to find you, beat you to death, and then I'm going to resuscitate you back to life so I can kill you again." And I was like, "Or even worse, I'll have you babysit my kids and I'll send them to YOUR place with legos, whistles, glitter and silly string right after feeding them Cajun food with beans and fun dip." We could even use one of my kids' dirty diapers as a weapon.

5.  I'll surprise dry hump Bruce Willis when he isn't looking.

6.  My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I have nice boobs. I mean that's important considering the target market. Apparently, these puppies were famous in high school. I had no idea until dudes 20 years later started telling me about them on Facebook (as well as some random dudes at the grocery store). I stare at them a lot in the mirror, but for many years, I thought that was just me being vain.

7.  I kind of look like Adrian. Not really, but I have brown hair and can be a total hottie nerd.

8.  I am an Air Force veteran (cough cough like Chuck Norris). I don't have to fake the PTSD part of my character, and I can do my owns stun... well I can aggressively file paperwork. There's a script isn't there? That's paperwork. I'll rock it.

9.  I'm double jointed, meaning I can do some cool kicks and splits and stuff. Wait a minute, this is me trying to be a girlfriend in a movie, not real life, well disregard.

10.  I cried during Rambo II (the speech at the end) and Chuck Norris's Delta Force 1 (the part with the cheesy music, wait, should be more specific huh, where the Jews get called to the front of the plane, the concentration camp tattoo, the woman who reminds me of my grandma, the cabbage patch doll, the priest...) Rambo II, tears. Uncontrollable tears. Especially when I was pregnant. BUT I didn't cry during the Titanic or the Notebook. I did cry over an episode of Oprah once, but in my defense, I was pregnant and ate an entire pie in one sitting.

11.  My father might actually come back from the grave to see it.

12.  I took down a Marine once, and it's quite possible I'm the only Air Force chick that has managed to do such a thing. I actually did some Jet Li moves I think when I did, like I flipped off this table and everything. All the other Marines were calling me Devil Dog. Basically, I'm a bad ass in real life too. Just don't ask me to do it again because I don't think I can.

13.  I have Rocky's theme song and Eye of the Tiger as top plays when working out.

14.  I am a rebel type, but in a mainstream sheeple sort of way, like in high school, people thought I was kissing a teacher's ass all morning during announcements, but really what happened was the teacher caught me and my friend sneaking liquor in our coffee and instead of being all "you are expelled," he was all, "let me have some." Then somehow, it accidentally became a morning ritual for us. I listen to Metallica and Ice Cube. That's rebel.

15.  I am a bitch. This makes for a great character who kills people. The meanest people I have ever in my life encountered, I mean meaner than drill sergeants and high-maintenance girl bullies, meaner than the 1976 Steeler's Defense, the meanest people I have ever had the pleasure to do business with, the public school administration and the PTA. Let's just say, they fear me. Like one time, there was a "fundraiser," which is a word the PTA uses for whoring out children into selling overpriced junk and compete like used car salesmen for time at the bouncy party. My child's PTA had it set up, you had to sell one item to get a half hour at the party, 10 items to attend the entire party. We are talking 600 children sharing one bouncy thing. I objected to it. Called it child abuse. Told them my kid will be at Chuck E. Cheese that day and the absence will be excused without a doctor's or parent's note. So, they decided to let my child's class have a couple hours on the bouncy thing when nobody else was using it, the whole class, including those who didn't sell one item... all because I'm not just a bitch, but I'm queen bitch. You should see me own the parking lot during the after school cluster fuck of chaos.

16.  I have a thing for pilots. Sylvester is a pilot in the movie. eHarmony couldn't do a better job.

17.  I know the age thing might be an issue, but the important thing is Sylvester Stallone aged well, and I haven't, so we look the same age. He's also younger than my father, barely, and that's what matters.

This is a picture of the first time
I never met him.

18.  I'm a libra. Nuff said.

19.  I know how to get my own coffee, so that's like money saved on assistants and shit.

20.  I will do it for almost free, like almost free means paying for the travel and partial living expenses (a nanny) and Chuck Norris shows me how to do the roundhouse kick, without killing me in the process. Ok, Chuck doesn't have to show me any secrets. I really just want a kissing scene with Sylvester (I have something to prove, see #3).

21.  I'm not an actress and I have stage fright.

**************************************************************
I'd also like to request that my character spits on people's foreheads before she kills them like the Outlaw Jose Wales, but since I can't spit without dribbling all over myself, we'll have to get a stunt double for the spitting.

I also require Peanut Butter to be present in my trailer because the Beach Boys require such a thing in theirs, and the Beach Boys are awesome. And how do I know this about the peanut butter? Play the video...

Fashion Debauchery: Fall 2012 Colors and Predictions

Just because I'm a mom doesn't mean I have to look like the frumpy housewife, right? I mean I probably have too many days where gay men in public felt compelled to let EVERYONE know my fashion faux pas, which wasn't a result of anything like ignorance, but more like I'm a mom, I'm freaking busy. My pants may not match my shirt, but at least I'm wearing pants. I'm sure spectators appreciated my cat fight, bitch fest with a flaming gay guy at Walmart about fashion while I'm wearing my nephew's shirt, my father's old shorts and flip flops because I'm not afraid to remind him that my boobs are real. Yes I can dish out some pretty low blows. I'm proud to say though that I was able to entertain a crowd of people with my boobs without actually having to show my boobs.

But fashion is kind of a big deal in this world, and does it really hurt to try to look good? I mean it's kind of fun, and well, you never know when you will run into that bitch from high school who got a little fatter than you did and you really want to rub it in her face with a little fashion overkill.

Mom fashion, of course, is way different. I refuse to chase my kids in platform 5 inch heels, though I do have a couple pair for those nights I get out of the cage, oops I mean nest, no really it's a cage. I do plan on writing more about mom fashion, but to start the fashion topic out, I'm going to hit on the colors of 2012.

First off, these colors extend beyond fashion and into home decorating and any other kind of creative design. If you are an artist, you can easily unleash a creative fury using this palette. Scrapbookers, here you go. Second, these colors can extend beyond your fashion and into your family's.

Me likes the Tangerine Tango and French Roast. A little of the Honey Gold mixed into it, and nice warm look. Reminds me of coffee, and maybe that's why I like it because, well, coffee is everything.








Then there's the fact that I think the Ultramarine Green is ugly, until I see it on clothes, especially with the witchy look because modern witches are hot (good ones, who operate from their light, just sayin).

Another combination I like are the soft colors, the last 3 together. Titanium, Rhapsody and Rose Smoke. For some reason, it reminds me of my grandmother's bathroom. Not the color combination, but that it reminds me of the infamous Avon smell, like roses and baby powder mixed together. Is that weird?  Yes, until you look at the colors and think about it and then you are like, "YES, I know that Avon scent, and yes, those colors accurately portray that Avon scent."


Did I come up with these colors? NO. I'm just the messenger. The real knowledge comes from color experts, PANTONE, and their Fashion Color Report. Apparently, they do this more often than once a year, and I love how they link to fashion designers and influencers.

So for men, they got these... It's pretty much the same thing but 3 color changes. The Rhubarb one, Sea Fog and Whitecap Gray. I'm feeling Rhubarb to be a good feminine color too this year.

What do they say about fashion this fall? Well the expert designers and people involved in the industry quoted on the Report seem to all have their own unique concept for Fall and Winter. My favorites though, and I forget who said what except for one...

Tommy Hilfiger is feeling the Blues in "classic prep meets military." Generally, the Peacoat has always been a trendy design, but they can make a woman look frumpy. They do have various types of options with that to remove the frumpiness, but this year, I'm going to go more Air Force and less Navy with my look, mainly because I already have my coats figured out for winter, though I should get my old ones dry cleaned. Long trench coat is what I'm thinking, with the military look, the rain coat supplied to basic trainees, except I'm leaving blue and going for shades of Tangerine Tango and Honey Gold, something to brighten up my wardrobe but still matches my handbags (my summer handbag as well as my winter one). Will I actually wear it? Probably not to a bunch of places with the kids, but IF I escape a night and the weather calls for it...

Someone else was anticipating a trend of women dressing more like men, the classic look... Fedora's, Pinstripes, red lips... Colleen Sherin, Senior Fashion Director, Saks Fifth Avenue says, 

"In terms of a beauty trend and color palette for fall 2012, I believe we will see a return to a more classic and polished look, with a Deep Red lip, possibly complemented by a smokey eye. Hair may be swept back into an undone pony tail or chignon. This was prevalent in several of the early fall collections and also appeared on many a stunning starlet during the awards season. This is a striking look when worn with some of the Darker Green, Petrol and Berry tones of the season." 

This is the look I'm feeling the most this year. I've been feeling it during the summer, and it hasn't gone away. Kind of like mixing sophistication with glamor. You can see it in the way I've designed the Dribbles and Grits store. Too bad I can't design all the clothes beyond graphics. I'll get more into this look later, especially making it mommy lifestyle do-able. 

NOTE: All pics in this blog post was provided by (or altered from images on) Pantone's Website.

Can a Mommy get her Bath Time too? I guess not :(

My girl Jenny over at Holdin' Holden wrote a blog post today, or recently since it's like after midnight so that messes up the today thing, but she wrote about trying to take a shower. Love her work. Enjoy her stories. She's a hottie too so the imagining her nekkid was very fun.

Here's a quote from it...

There are things that non-parents would look at that we parents do that might seem.... odd. Perhaps even bordering crazy. To us- well, you have to make adjustments to just about everything, even if it doesn't even make sense to you and certainly wouldn't make sense to anyone else who didn't have to do it.

No one ever said having to taste baby food as an adult was pleasant (well, unless it's bananas or sweet potatoes. Nom.)- but if it will get food into a stubborn ass child's mouth and down the hatch- it has to be done. NO ONE ever set you up for physically having to help your kid take a crap... but if their ass is congested and they are screaming in pain- you will grab a shit; yes you will. You may hesitate, you may dry heave, you may NEVER tell ANYONE- but you will do it.    

You can see where this is going. Yes we as parents often deny ourselves basic hygiene because the kids come first, and sometimes sleep trumps shower. C'mon now, if all you got to yourself in a day was 4 hours to include your time to sleep, would you waste it on a shower? Pffff.


I shower after the kids are asleep usually. I do everything I can possibly do at this hour. The reason I can get away with this is that they are getting older and sleep better at night to where I'm getting more than 2 to 4 hours every 24 hours to myself. If you got kids who slept all night long early on, you are a lucky bitch; I want to rub you and make wishes. Mine still have some issues, like they aren't sleeping the whole night without waking up a few times like a normal baby, especially the 2 year old, and there are still nights where they will sleep in shifts. I said BETTER than before, which anything was better than before because they were sleeping in shifts to where someone was up 24/7 around the clock, for like years.

I try very hard to force all that on the husband because I already put in 5 years of the grave-yard shift, and when he bitches, I remind him how it's easier now and that I have as much sympathy for him as he has had for me in the last 5 years. Yes the shoe is finally on the other foot. Partly because I'm a bitch and I'm sadistically, maniacally enjoying this. The other part is because I have to. Long-term chronic sleep deprivation has finally taken its toll on me, like I now have Cataplexy (google it.. it's like seizures). If you had children under the age of 25 and people called you a whore over it, I will tell you they are wrong WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG. I could handle all nighters much easier in my 23 year old body than I can in my perpetual 29 year old body (and by perpetual I mean every year I celebrate my 29th birthday much like the Mad Hatter has tea). Any woman who has children young is WISE!

Back to the shower... Even with the husband home, I end up with an audience constantly moving my shower curtain back so water gets all over the floor throwing a fit because they want to take a bath now, or they want a toy that's in the bath, or they want something out of reach, or they are fighting over something like closing the door, she won't stop looking at me, she's in my spot... Then I scream for the husband, and he's deaf, like the only way to get his assistance is to get out dripping wet, walk through the whole house, get to the Living Room and then YELL because just talking doesn't work either. The yell only gets pass his deafness. Then you have to get pass the manness by nagging and repeating yourself 3 times before he gets the major point. By then, I'm going off on him to where I'm amazed neighbors have yet to call adult protective services on me.

The sad thing is, I was trained by the military for this. I can shower in less than 2 minutes, less than 3 if I shave. Since momhood, adding the kids to the equation knocks it up to about 5 minutes if I'm trying to rush, but that's still not bad. 5 minutes though, that's all it takes for one to distract me and the other 2 to tear down curtains, sprinkle cheese and magic glitter everywhere, and the glitter is magic because I don't buy glitter, so I have no idea where the shit keeps coming from. Magical glitter fairy? Eh, at least the mess sparkles.

So yeah, I shower at night. Sometimes I still do in the day. I still sometimes scream for the husband like it will do something (it being the screaming or the husband). I still end up breaking up fights and stuff on my own. But if I'm going to shave places so that it's not as embarrassing in the event someone steals my pants, then I have to wait until nobody is here or everyone is asleep, just like I have to do if I want to eat something warm with some nutritional value to it. 

Now if showering wasn't in the stars for me for a couple days, these are my field hygiene techniques I use as I need them...

1. Change your clothes (just to give the impression that you did the whole shower/shave/brush teeth routine)
2. Hand Sanitizer isn't just for hands. Yes I smack that alcohol on other places of the body if I think it stinks, using common sense of course, like don't stick it up your ass crack or something. Perfect for boob sweat though.
3. Victoria Secret Body Spray, all over including hair, my favorite being Love Spell (Strawberries and Champagne I used in basic training religiously, so it takes me there)
4. Flushable Wipes Unscented. In my Orbitz Gum voice, "Dirty Crotch? Clean it up..." 
5. Regular Wipes... If it's good enough for our soldiers, it might just work for us moms... I tend to use them if I get dirt on my knees or the bottom of my feet.
6. Hair Accessories. Pony tails, the half ones, the claws, scarves... 
7. Hair Odor, I use Catwalk Shine Spray just because I like how it smells. 
8. Leg Hair, I just quickly go over the main spots with my razor dry. Sometimes I use the husband's electric razor/clippers. The fastest way though is to just wear pants.
9. Make-up, I always use Olive Oil to remove it, and I barely wear make up.

Since this whole post was inspired by Miss Jenny, go check out her blog. She has a pretty awesome book too for sale. Go visit her Straight out of the Psycho Shower Scene-I need some back up 


BTW, I still dance nekkid in front of the mirror for a second EVERY time I shower. 

I'm too sexy for my sexy... A story about boobs

These are my boobs, and John Cena is so trying to grab them,
and they are nestled in a Victoria Secret Push Up Bra.

"True Story, just today...

Me: I don't think your wife likes me all that much.

Mechanic: It's your boobs. The last time you were here, she asked me if you were throwing your boobs at me...

Me: I get that a lot

Women. Let me tell you a secret. Boobs are boobs. I can post a million better pair of puppies from free internet porn than I could ever flaunt on my chest. Men don't discriminate when it comes to boobs. All boobs are awesome. If you are worried about my boobs, then you are going to have to worry about the entire female population. If you wanna fear your man hitting on me over something, fear my confidence, my mind, and my good heart, all of which are way bigger than my boobs, and all of which are things you can compete with without having to invest any money into the ordeal. If boobs are the best thing you have to offer, you will never be anything more than a ho."

That was my Facebook status yesterday on my super secret profile. I do hate when people don't give me a chance because of something stupid like my boobs. They are really missing out, especially over something so superficial. 

First off... My boobs are not that awesome. Borderlining a C-cup, they are really B-cups. Most of the time, I don't wear a Victoria Secret Push Up bra, but I do totally suggest it, and in the store, they do have a stash of cheap bras about 20 bucks in range, which is totally competitive with Walmart bra prices but with Victoria Secret's Swag Secret benefits. Back to my boobs, they went from whipped cream to heavy whipping cream in point five after breastfeeding, meaning I can also hold pencils and cigarette lighters underneath them without a bra. One of them falls funny, like they are not symmetrical when it comes to my cleavage, and it's possible one is slightly bigger than the other. I've always thought my nipples were odd, especially in comparison to nude women in 80's movies. Yet, for some reason, these puppies somehow attract a lot of attention. I've had guys walk up to me at the grocery store on days I look like shit just to tell me about my cleavage. I do not believe for one minute my boobs are that awesome. I think what is going on, everything a guy likes about me, they are projecting onto my boobs, or their favorite part of my body as some dudes will say I have an awesome ass when really there is no ass, but I do attract more boob men than ass men probably because I'm a very nurturing person. With that, women assume men look at the boobs or say I'm awesome because of the boobs when really, the boobs are just the messenger.

Second, maybe I'm a lesbian. Did she ever think of that? Maybe I'm married to a man who's way hotter than her husband. Maybe, just maybe, there's so much more to me than what is going on in her world with her man. I don't get it. How does a woman see another woman and the ONLY thing to come to her mind is, "That woman wants to sleep with my man"? How does one get to that point? It's not jealousy. The bitch was beautiful. You look at her and her man, and you think she's way out of his league... he's lucky. You get to know them, and the opposite is true.

Third, my mechanic is a good man. He doesn't over charge or hustle his customers. He tries to find the cheapest available routes for you and gives you options. His body work, on the cars, is an art. He is truly an auto body artist. Even his putty jobs look good. And the best thing about this man, he had his kids at work with him. Yes, he babysat his children while working, and he does this frequently. His toe nails were painted in nail polish, which you know were from his girls. He answered their pretend phone, and he had some unbelievable patience with their neediness while he's trying to work, more patience than I have as a mother with my kids. Even crazier, I don't think they are his kids. I think their biological father may be someone different. Does this all mean I want to sleep with him? No, it means I want to do business with him. I want him to have my money instead of the dickwad down the street who overcharges and treats me like I'm a stupid bitch who doesn't know anything about mechanics. I want to be the customer to the man who isn't staring at my boobs thinking they make me inferior to him or that they are an easy target to hustle. I definitely want a good person who is a good father to take my money and invest it in his family.

The main thing is, I try to let people see the best of me before they get to know the worst of me. And with that, I don't just cuss out or out-bitch the woman who is being a bitch. I try to understand where she's coming from, and I try to boost her ego just so she'll give me a damn chance. More than likely, she never will give me that chance, but she sure as hell won't if I give her a reason not to. I'd feel sorry for her when he leaves her, but I probably won't.

All I'm saying, ladies, please stop looking at other women like we are ho's. You are no different than the men with that shit. It's degrading, and it embarrasses our gender. If you want to worry about a ho, and your man cheating on you with that ho, then worry about the man lacking the substance to pick out a decent woman to cheat on you with, let alone lacking the substance to stay true. If you are worried about a woman tricking your husband into cheating, because yes, there are some real shady bitches out there, then you are going to have to pick and choose your battles wisely or you will be nothing more than the ho in the end.