The Banana Split Molten Cake Diet Totes Replaces the Subway One: Plus some free exercising tips for those who do that sort of thing.

I designed some new crap for Finish the Sentence Friday. We now have rainbow hair and friendly unicorns.

This week's prompt: My favorite way to exercise is… OR It's bathing suit season, and to prepare, I...

Fitness buffs, read through to the bottom. 

This bastard right here keeps me fat

In the present day, my favorite exercise to prepare for bathing suit season is driving thru Sonic and devouring the Strawberry Banana Split Molten Cake. It's cake with a fudgy center topped with ice cream, strawberries, bananas, whipped cream and a cherry. Sometimes, I have to have two of them to feel satisfied. Then, when I go to put on my bathing suit, I bitch that I'm too fat to fit in my old suit. It's a two piece, one designed to cover the belly entirely if you are that size. I'm not that size anymore, and my fat roll is a skin touching skin, fat bastard before the subway diet, hanging out and drooping like drapes kind of roll. That fat roll peeps out my suit like horrific cleavage loud and proud to give everyone and their children nightmares while encouraging other women to diet. There are women out there who look at my gut and think to themselves, "Thank God I did all those pilates." All this because of that damned molten cake from Sonic that I love and admire so much. 

To try to fix this and actually prepare for the rest of bathing suit season, I'm doing the lazy diet. I'm taking Diet Pills. I need something for energy anyway. Gone are the days of ephedrine (thanks meth heads. fuck you). It's now some herbal shit that, if in the right mood with your sun in the right planet, might give you a burst of energy for an hour or so. But if you mix it with those vitamin enhancing drinks that contains large quantities of Niacin, it kind of gives you a false sense of energy. I think the weight loss benefits are also a false sense thing too, but shhhh, we aren't telling my body that. I mean Banana Split Molten Cake people. I can't give that up... I can't give up my shallow, hollow sense of fulfillment for shallow, hollow cultural expectations of a woman's appearance. 

In fact, I'm kind of pissed off that nobody really gives a shit that all these men go shirtless... Fat, round hairy men going shirtless, at the pool, in the garage. It's ok for men to be fat. They don't exercise for shirtless season. Nope, just us women because we have expectations and shit. 

Now, once upon a time, I was in the military, and I actually did exercise. Here's some tips if you are wanting some. And not just steak tips. No, like real tips Dr. Oz might not tell you because he's kind of plastic looking and might be a robot. 

Protein

I don't know why women avoid this. You know who eats large quantities of protein while working out? Body Builders. Why? It's necessary. Let me explain what you are doing when you exercise. You are killing cells. Then your body rebuilds shit it needs. In order for your body to rebuild anything, cells require protein to make new cells. While protein bars usually come with a carb filled punch, Tuna is high in protein, and a better protein all the way around, especially for "dieting." 

Size

Don't pay attention to your weight. Instead pay attention to your clothing size. Muscle weighs more than fat. When you exercise, you make new muscles. If you are doing it right, you should gain weight while losing a clothing size. 

Drink Water

A lot of times our bodies get thirsty and think, "Gee, I need a steak." Water can sometimes replace a meal sized snack, but also water is anti-aging in the sense that hydrated skin is healthy skin. Mild dehydration sucks and slows you down. Water helps clean out the system. There's a million and one crunchy reasons to drink water. Just don't drink any water from Charleston, West Virginia. 

You are what you do

A military PT test usually entails running 1.5 miles, pushups and situps. I struggled passing that test when I first got in on account I was so out of shape. Every day in basic training, including Sundays, we ran about 3 miles and completed over a hundred pushups and situps. In addition, every chance in between many of us snuck in some extra pushups either by mouthing off to the instructors or seeing who can outperform the other in a minute. I did lose some fat doing that. But I barely, after weeks of that kind of training, passed the PT test. My run time was a little less than 14 minutes, and I could do about 20 situps, and 15 push ups. 

So then I went to tech school (this is a true story). There I met a really hot guy I kind of wanted to hook up with, and he invited me to go swimming with him. So to flirt, I went swimming every day for 1.5 weeks. In that time, we attempted to swim 20 lengths, though there were days we didn't quite make 20 before making out, and then I took a PT test. My run time was more like 12 minutes. My pushups were more like 35, and my situps more like 30. Then that guy wouldn't talk to me anymore because I didn't "put out," so I started dating a Marine (who didn't need a woman to put out so I eventually did). He made me do PT with him a lot. By the time he was done with me, running and pushups and really amazing sex, my run time was down to 11 to 12 minutes, and my pushups were 73 in a minute, and situps, 55 to 60 in a minute. 

Then I went on to my first duty station where my boyfriend changed due to location. He didn't exercise, and we were two miles above sea level. My run time was more like 14 minutes, situps at about 40 and pushups about 50. 

Then I got out of the Air Force and avoided PT all together. Now I could probably walk that mile and a half in under 20 minutes if I'm lucky. I do about 5 pushups now. Sometimes 12 if I really push it. I haven't attempted a situp in years, but I don't think I can do one. 

Moral of the story? Two things.

1. Swimming is awesome. It's one of the best exercises out there. It works muscles you didn't know you have. It's a cardio and muscular-toning workout in one. You don't sweat much because you are in the water. It's easier on the joints. And the strokes force you to breath a pattern better suited and more comfortable for cardio. Swimming alone improved my PT scores where rigorous training couldn't. 20 lengths 3 times a week, freestyle up and breast stroke back, will do more than an hour at the gym plus yoga. 

2. You are who you do. This is beyond boyfriends. Friends matter. If you spend time of your day with people who work out, more than likely, you will start working out, and you will work out the way they do. And if you really want to lose weight and improve your performance, you really want to go to the best. Date a Marine. 

Weights / Strength Training

When you lift really heavy weights one or two times, I mean really heavy beyond what you think you can do and you push yourself to do it anyway, that's how you get bulky muscles. If you want to tone your muscles, do weights, but light weights and many many reps. Meaning take 10 to 30 pounds and repeat the small exercise 50 times. This is good for the cellulite stuff and lumpy butt syndrome too. And scientific fact from scientific sources say that the ONLY way we truly know how to increase metabolism is to build muscle. 

Diet

When it comes to food, if you are working out like mentioned above, you probably can eat whatever you want. I did in the military and lost lots of weight. Then I lost even more weight eating less, but whatever I wanted including fried foods and cake batter, just by cleaning my house with my 3 kids in their baby / toddler years. 

But if you want to "eat healthy," aim for things that you can hunt or gather. Avoid kitchens that are laboratories.  

The important thing is your diet should match your activity. Marines eat more calories, fat and carbs than any other creature on earth. While active duty, you wouldn't know that because most of them could model underwear. It's because they are so active, they need all those damn carbs and fat. Many keep the same diet and upon exiting the Corps (they are still Marines, just not active ones), many gain weight. It's because they stopped rucking and shit, but continued to eat like they were. 

Lifestyle

The Air Force is dying to catch up to the Army and Marines. They out-perform us on every physical level overseas in real life scenarios. The Air Force, due to it's oxymoronic military intelligence, believes they need to increase PT to catch up. They are wrong. It's not working. I'll tell you why. Marines and Army do PT all the time, but their PT is a break from their real training. Most of what they do to train and function on the job entails running, jogging, swimming, marching... all with about 50 to 100 pounds of gear toppled on them while wearing heavy boots. Air Force can increase their PT all they want, but as long as they are gear free in tennis shoes, they aren't really training for much. 

The lesson is your lifestyle matters. You can work out all you want, but if your lifestyle entails sitting on your butt more than moving around, it's not going to do much. It's good to do it, I mean if you are sitting on your butt a lot, you're going to need those little bursts of working out to maintain your current status, but I lost more weight and got in my best shape cleaning my house while taking care of a baby and 2 toddlers at the same time. I lost more sanity than I did weight, but I lost weight. That was more activity than the military ever gave me. 

Stretch

Longer muscles are stronger muscles.

Keep in mind, you are getting skinny tips from a fat woman. Strength tips from someone who can do 4 push ups. But I'm right. I mean, it's gospel truth stuff right there, but if you don't want to believe me, it's your body, one you should love no matter what size it is. But loving yourself like that is just as difficult as all the exercise lifestyle changing crap I just mentioned. I know. I obviously don't enjoy having my fat bastard stomach roll, but I do frequently grab my stomach and squish it so it looks like it's talking, and it frequently says, "Get in my bellay." 

For more Finish the Sentence Fridays, check out this Finish The Sentence Friday Co-Host and at the bottom of her post is a link-up. Join in if you are a blogger. 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, no it was a time to be born and a time to die. Eh. I suck at titles.

The best decision I ever made was also the worst decision I ever made. This is a two part decision.

I decided to join the military.

I don't really know what I was thinking when I joined, like I'm pretty sure I joined because my father wanted me to at some point before he died, and I have a super shrinkological urge to make him proud of me, the rainbow I have been chasing since his death. You can't change the past with the present. You can't impress a ghost. But I try because I'm irrational and crazy. Shut up and let me have this.

I chose the Air Force because an Army friend explained to me that the Army wasn't really equipped for females and the Air Force gets more funding for better housing. I know, not the best reason to join a specific branch in particular.

But it was a good decision because it brought me confidence and taught me teamwork. I seem to only be a disciplined person while in the military, like out of the military, the discipline disappeared. But the whole ordeal was such a character building moment I would never want to take it away from my life experiences.

I dropped and gave that guy 20 so many times because my mouth won't shut up...

It was a bad decision because I was raped by a Staff Sgt. That rape fucked me up has changed me indefinitely, and it haunts me to this day. If I could remove that blip from my past, I would be tempted, but it would risk screwing up the second part of the military decision...

Before the military, I was one of those "career" gals who was never going to settle down and have a family. I didn't really feel any biological clock ticking because all my friends had kids young, and I helped them. Their kids were like my kids. I didn't need kids of my own. Until I joined the military...

I remember toward the end of basic training, my TI's family came to visit him. His 5 year old daughter ran across the pavement through the troops standing in formation to reach her daddy. He caught her with open arms and picked her up and just hugged her for a few minutes. That. That is what triggered the first Tick Tock. The biological clock was no longer broken.

As I stood in formation, maintaining military bearing, I yearned for a family all the sudden out of no where. I wanted kids of my own for the first time in my life. I really wanted it like I want a drink of water after a 3 mile run. I felt so alone in this world that I needed a family. I had no idea how alone I was until that moment.

So from there, every man I dated was a potential father like I was Kirstie Alley in Look Who's Talking. I imagined my dates 10 years from now taking care of children. I totally forgot to imagine them taking care of me, thanks Kirstie for forgetting that one because now I'm kind of screwed. Anyway, I found a guy who would do and I said I do. And he did too. One fish, two fish, three fish, blue.

We got married a couple months after my rape, and I honestly think the rape somehow made me fertile. It's a long weird girly story that involves TMI more TMI than I get, so we'll just skip to the part where I say most importantly, rape made me crazy enough to settle down. While I have a million and one things to bitch about my husband, he is a great man. And I don't think I would have married him if the sexual rug wasn't pulled out from under me.

Maybe this is what I need to remember in the healing process. There is always opportunity in adversity, and I'm one to naturally take advantage of it. I take advantage of it so naturally, I don't even realize I'm doing it. And maybe focusing on the good things that resulted because of it is what I need to get over it and move forward. To...

My kids are so into this movie and now, duh duh dummmm, soundtrack in the car, while driving, everywhere. Love is an open Doh ohr oor. Ugh. And the more I watch this movie, and listen to the songs, the more I'm convinced that it was really about PTSD.

Anyway...

My decision to join the military made me a stronger person, one who can handle trauma the military gave me despite the crazy that ails me resulting from it. It gave me confidence. A thick skin. It made me grow up. Most importantly, not only did I lose myself there, I also found myself there, and I found my family.

Because Love is an open Doh ohhh ooorrr.

Fucking Disney is deep when you realize it. The open door. Duh. She wanted her sister to open that door. It just hit me. This keeps happening. I was wondering why they would say love is an open door, like who comes up with that?

Read more Finish the Sentence Friday stuff here. 


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Blogs who I think sent me traffic to my blog that you should check out if you haven't...  I do read all of these blogs regularly.

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More than Cheese and Beer

Finding Ninee

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Janine's Confessions of a Mommyaholic

Dear Lance Corporal Wannabe Kanye West

Warning: I flip flop between writing an article to the masses and writing a letter to Kanye directly. Why? Because I am a mom. So I multitask, and I'm a woman. I naturally have 3 conversations going on at once with myself alone. 

Kanye West compared himself to the police and being at war because he risks his life on stage doing his dances, like he's Michael Jackson or Usher or something. I personally find it hilarious. I mean comparing himself to Jackie Chan doing his own stunts would still be a huge stretch because we know Kanye ain't no Kung Fu Fighter. Even Jackie Chan's dance moves are hotter and more dangerous than Kanye. But the cops and military?

When I first heard this story, I didn't really flinch even though I'm a veteran, but that's because he compares himself to God, I mean the man interrupted Taylor Swift to talk about Beyonce, and he created leather jogging pants or made it hot or something. That's Kanye. No one but Kanye takes Kanye seriously.

But Kanye is right that celebrity life is dangerous. Us little people have a hard time grasping that, but we know after TuPac, Biggie, and Princess Diana that celebrity life is dangerous. Celebrities have the world watching them, some loving them, others hating them, and usually all get hate mail and threatening letters with intent to kill. I mean have you not seen the Bodyguard? Kevin Costner can't be there for everyone at once to make it less dangerous.

But even that, that's nothing like the military. I wish our soldiers in Afghanistan were only concerned with falling from their dance moves intead of what they do experience. I mean come on now Kanye, do you have PTSD from brushing the brains of your brother off your face? I know the streets are rough, but Compton ain't shit compared to Afghanistan, and you Kanye ain't no real thug. The OG's don't consider you rap. You are the type to avoid the ghetto because you know you'd get robbed.

But let's assume for one minute that Kanye is in real danger. Let's assume bullets did fly across his face while he was on stage. My question is this...

Dear Kanye West, do you risk your life for less than 20,000 dollars a year?

Someone please send the poor man some MRE's. He's in a war zone on stage. He needs MRE's. Careful, the cheese DOES back you up Kanye. Something to help him finish out his contract. I mean it's not like the poor man can just quit and go home. And send him some pictures of his family. I'm sure he misses them when he's on stage. Oh, you should totally play some Call of Duty for training. It's the same thing really it is. That will make you basically infantry.

Seriously though, Kanye, don't be a punk ass. Join the military like the cop suggested. Enlist. Do it. Do it and prove to the world you are a badass. Oh wait, you can't get in. Sorry. Snap. Forgot, you can't even pass the drug test to get in. You should try anyway. Your recruiter would enjoy the good laugh.

For real. Kanye. Giving your body to protect your country for close to nothing is called being a warrior. Giving your body to the stage for millions of dollars is called being a whore. You are no soldier. You are an overglorified stripper.

I'm sorry for the real talk here Kanye. Yes part of me knows you will never read this, but another part of me feels sorry for you if you do because it's not sugar coated at all. I am most certain your ego would survive it noneoftheless. In case you do read it, I really did like 808's and Heartbreak.

And to the general public, brace yourself, it's all sweet you are making this story and the cop's letter in response to it go viral like you support our armed services and what not, but really if you did, why the fuck is Kanye making so much money and our soldiers are not? When was the last time they got a raise? Obama would give them a raise if the liberals wanted that to happen. Lets not even get to the subject of veteran care. We vets know what our country really cares about. It's Kanye, risking his life on stage. His news is more important to you than what's going down overseas. A story about his leather jogging pants means more to you than the stories about our brothers we lost in war. We know this, and we still would sign up again and make that oath to protect your ass. Now that's something I know Kanye isn't about.


This is the letter than inspired this post. The cop ended his letter quoting the same rap artist who once said Fuck the Police. Irony. Ain't nuthin to it. Gangsta rap must of made him do it. No for real, thank you Chief Oliver for your service in the police force. And thank you for the letter. I loved reading it. I'm a little jealous I didn't write one first because I would have so ended it with the Check Yo Self before you Wreck Yo Self. I love that song. I love it more than I love MC Hammer's "Can't touch this."

PS Quoting Ice Cube makes you a badass. Quoting Kanye West does not.

Open letter from Police Chief David Oliver to Kanye West
Dear Kanye West,

I am honored to be writing such an important star. I am a mere Internet sensation. I’m not sure I am worthy to address you, although the Huffington Post did say I was “Humorous and Insanely Popular.” I don’t pay much attention to those things. Anyway, please excuse my interference in your life for a quick second.

I read your interview and also watched it on video. You said:
“I’m just giving of my body on the stage and putting my life at risk, literally.….and I think about it. I think about my family and I’m like, wow, this is like being a police officer or something, in war or something.”

I want to thank you for putting your life on the line for all of us every day. I know that being a rapper is tough work. I have tried to rap, and it is very difficult to keep up with the pulse of the rhyme flow…although when Ice Ice Baby comes on the radio, I can usually keep up with ol’ Vanilla. Anywho, your job is just some very dangerous work. Most people don’t consider… if you rap really fast, without a chance to inhale, you could pass out and hit your head.

That last paragraph was covered in sarcasm. I’m letting you know, just so you do not think I agree with your very ignorant assessment of your career (or any other performer)as it relates to a person in the military or a police officer’s service. You sir, are as misguided as they come. I do have a suggestion for you. Since you are accustomed to danger, from your life as an international rapper, I am strongly encouraging you immediately abandon you career as a super star and join the military. After joining, I would like you to volunteer to be deployed in Afghanistan or one of the numerous other forward locations where our men an women are currently serving. When the Taliban starts shooting at you, perhaps you could stand up and let the words flow. It could be something like “I’m Kanye West, wearing a flak vest.” I’m sure they would just drop weapons and surrender. You could quite possibly end all wars, just from the enemy being star-struck.

Your line of thinking is part of the problem in the world today….which include entertainers thinking they are something more than just entertainers. I know it is supply and demand and the demand for your services is high. I get economics. What I do not get is you EVER comparing what you do for a living to our heroic military members, who are always in harm’s way… and my brother and sister police officers who have to go to work carrying weapons and wearing a bullet-proof vest to protect themselves.

Check yourself, before you wreck yourself….Chief Oliver

I named the file Oliver Kanye because it sounds like All Over Kanye. I am probably the only person that thinks that is funny.

A link to Chief's Facebook https://www.facebook.com/BrimfieldPolice

Expendables Update: Rhyme Scheme is Silly, Serious, Silly.

So I guess Sylvester Stallone tweeted the following:

WILLIS OUT... HARRISON FORD IN !!!! GREAT NEWS !!!!! Been waiting years for this!!!!

and then

GREEDY AND LAZY ...... A SURE FORMULA FOR CAREER FAILURE

Of course, the second post might not be related to the first, but google that shit and everyone sure thinks it is. You can also google Kevin Smith's views of Bruce Willis and you would get a pretty good idea that Bruce is probably not the easiest person to work with. Kevin said he's pretty arrogant and his improv isn't funny. I don't know. I laughed a lot at a lot of movies Bruce was in.

Now this thing with Sylvester and Bruce is my fault.... It is. I had a dream about it in April and I posted it here. Bruce was totally hitting on me in the dream. Even though I had already intended on picking Sylvester, Bruce was trying. Seeing how I doubt I am really psychic and picked up on animosity forming between these two, most likely what happened is they are psychic and my internal struggle to choose between the two is what created the animosity. In other words, Sylvester was pissed Bruce was hitting on me in dreamland. Cmon now, we all know that's got to be it. I really should send Bruce a hooker with a card saying, "Sorry my milkshake brought you to this yard. I still love you."

So for Bruce Willis, I'm going to explain why I choose Sly over you. I also had to explain why I chose Sly over Will Smith when it came to a discussion about Philly Cheesesteaks recently...

Here's the thing about Sly. He works out still. He also paints. A jock who paints. How often do you see that? Yep that's it. And he's good at both. I mean he's a fabulous artist.

Well, and to add to the Will Smith thing, let's just say when I have dreams I'm Will's girlfriend, he's never in them. It's because of Jada. She'd kick my ass into 60 different shades of white.

Don't worry Sly, your wife can't get jealous because I'm married, I don't cheat, and she's prettier than me.

And Bruce, I'm so sorry I was attracted to you to make Sly get all kinds of jealous on you. Don't take it personal from him. It's my fault. I didn't mean to. You have a nice ass, and you look really hot in the wife beater and khakis covered in fake blood. One of my homeboys, Nathan, looks a lot like you. I think it's just because he's Irish and shaves his head too. You're more homeboy material. Sly, in my Terry Crew's voice, "Now that's future wifee right there."

I should also point out I've had more dreams about this. The movie. This is how it would go if I could write my character in it... 

In one dream I had after watching too many manly movies, Jet Li came to get me. He is at my door and I have him follow me after I hit some panic button somewhere (to contact the nanny). So I go to this room, and I open the thermostat, stick my hand on the thing behind the thermostat, and this huge walk in closet opens up out of the wall. I looked at Jet and was like, "Do you realize how many times my kids have changed the temp on that thermostat thinking it was going to do something?" So then we walk in the closet. To the right, I had 20 diaper bags packed and ready to go. On my left, I had 2 mercenary readiness bags. I grabbed one. Then I hit this button on the wall and the wall opens up to guns. I said, "Do you need anything?" He looks at the wall behind him (the one on the right) and says, "What's this do?" and he hits a button, the wall opens up, and it's all baby stuff. Extra diapers, bottles, formula, baby bath, medicine... Then the nanny shows up. He's a Puerto Rican flaming gay guy. I tell him he is on lock down, kiss the kids goodbye... we get in my car, and Kidz Bop started playing really loud. I quickly changed it to Ice Cube and looked at Jet Li to see if he noticed, and he looked at me like that didn't just happen.

Then there was a part where Terry Crews and I were both dancing to Robin Thicke's song, Blurred Lines, just like the video, except he was dancing all girly like and I was dancing all Robin Thicke like. Then the Russian guy from Rocky IV did the moonwalk in front of us.

I was in an Old Spice commercial with Terry too. I ripped off my shirt and then it was him shirtless instead of my boobs. Probably not the best commercial idea.

Then there was a scene where we were mercenaries going into a house to question some guy named Joseph. Well, trying to knock out an answer, someone knocked him out completely, so there we all were, sitting in Joseph's kitchen waiting for him to come to, and a kid walks in. Grabs a can of Chef Boy R Dee, and I'm like, "What are you doing?" He's like, "I'm hungry. It's dinner time. I'm getting me something." I was like, "Like hell you are." So I cooked everyone a healthy dinner. Other kids kept coming into the kitchen one by one, "Who are these people," and the one kid is like, "Friends of uncle Joe." And the kids are like, "Where's Uncle Joe?" And he's like, "He's passed out drunk again over there." The Russian guy from Rocky IV helped one of them with his homework.

There was a badass scene in the dream where Jet Li was against the Tiger Claws guy. Bolo Yeung. That was one of the best fights I've ever made up in my head.

I got out of a full charlie the way the Marines showed me. I'm still looking for a time in my life to get out of that hold for real. So far for fun, I can get out of it from a Navy guy in less than 5 seconds, and Army Vietnam Vet, about 20 seconds (60 seconds, let's be honest).

I got out of a choke hold by climbing on the guy's arms. That was cool. I never thought of that before. I do possess the flexibility for it. I'll have to try it some day if I can find a guy strong enough for it.

I blame TV violence for these dreams.

________________________________________________________________________________


I totally would make the Expendables reach new markets. I'm sorry I was too young to watch all the 80's movies in the 80's and watched them anyway instead of being famous and stuff.

Let me explain to people why I'm in love with The Expendables. It's the 80's. It's what I was raised with...

In all honesty, all those men in all those movies were part of the reason behind me joining the military to begin with. Yes, my father was a big deal, and the fact that I do come from a military family played a role. My brother was in the Army in the 80's. My dad was a Marine in the 60's. My grandfather (mom's side) is a WWII Army veteran. His dad is a WWI veteran.

Anyway, these men from all the cheesy good guy vs bad guy movies are the reason I wanted to get my shit together. They are men my father recognized as men. My father died when I was fresh out of high school leaving me in that whole, "He's never going to be proud of me," state of mind. Just about everything I've done with my life was my attempt to prove myself to a dead man. What better way than to be one of the icons of greatness he saw in his favorite movies?

Right before I joined the military, I had dated this one doctor guy. I thought he was husband material. I thought we had something serious going on. When I realized I was his intended mistress, that he intended on marrying some blond who would make better country club material and just cheat on her with me for the passion he couldn't get from her, I stopped it. When I stopped giving myself up to that man, he was not kind about it. Probably the biggest mistake I ever made because he would have taken good care of me, but probably also the best decision I ever made because I have dignity. That still didn't stop him from telling me that I wasn't worth more than a pretty face, and that didn't stop me from believing him (even though I'm pretty sure my IQ surpasses his, barely). I really felt if I could just low crawl under some barbed wire and kill people, that I would be man enough for assholes like that doctor, and more importantly for loved ones like my father. That I would prove to everyone I was more than just a pretty face.

Fuck what really happened, the Air Force wouldn't deploy me because of the pretty face. My NCO straight explained to me that I wouldn't see a day overseas if he and our readiness had anything to do with it. That's why I joined asshole.

Instead, I ended up designing some camera bracket holder thing for a roof top that I never got to see in action because I lacked the paperwork to go there. My husband saw it. He said it was awesome. I'm sure it wasn't. I'm sure it was just a camera holder on a roof. While nobody else could have designed it without flaw like I did (and by hand doing my own trig to do it because I didn't understand AutoCad enough otherwise, and it's boring), it didn't really matter. They could have jimmied it up there with a coat hanger just the same.

Either way, that unimportant camera bracket is there because of people like Sylvester Stallone, Clint Eastwood, Chuck Norris, Bruce Willis, Jean Claude Van Damme, Jet Li, Arnold Schwarzenegger... And you know what? I'm willing to bet over half the military, the number 1 in Air Power hoorah, the badasses on the ground oorah, and the taxi cabs at sea, aye aye, are there because of these men too. Because they look up to badassery and wanted to go and be it by enlisting.

I think there should be that one character who watched all the movies, and let those movies change their life. There should be that one Airman who joined the Air Force because Chuck Norris that's why, or the Grunt who went Army because he wanted to make a difference, or the Lone Mom Blogger who was raised on this stuff (and Matlock, can't forget Matlock), who fantasizes humping men twice her age because they saved the world too many times. Because they cared enough about vets to give a heartwarming speech on the POW's. Because they inspire patriotism and a love for a country many have given up on.

I'm just thinking Sylvester, you got enough famous motherfuckers for your movie. You need some real life badasses inspired by you on there. Someone who mid marathon keeps running no matter how tired they are because Rocky got back in the ring. Someone who taught his kid to arm wrestle just because he watched Over the Top. Someone who decided to donate to a homeless vet thanks to Rambo. Now that's PR working for you.

BTW, keep going up my family tree, and I'm sort of related to Clint Eastwood. Let me explain how. My great great great ... add a bunch of greats grandfather was John Webster. The Connecticut governor John Webster. Now my family tree spawned from his son Thomas, but Noah Webster's family tree spawned from one of Thomas's siblings. You get down to Noah Senior (Noah the Dictionary compiling copyright creating guy's dad), and he married Rebecca Greenleaf. She's a direct descendant of William Bradford. Now those who are related to William Bradford and can prove it with papers are in some hoity toity club. Clint Eastwood is in that club. So he's like a distant cousin by marriage. This is why I don't have romantic dreams about him from his 70's self. He was hot in the 70's. Like if we weren't distantly related by marriage, I'd so tap that and be the punk to make his day.


AND THE FIRST POST TO START MY EXPENDABLES POSTS

Some stupid Air Force story because why not?

So a grunt on the Grunt Facebook page I like shared a story about BMT. I can't tell these guys my stories because I was Air Force, and Army guys always thinks they are bigger more ferocious people, so everything I say is invalid (well that and I'm a girl and should be making sammiches in their small minds, and I'm the type of girl who serves men knuckle sandwiches so yeah...). I know the truth about the branches. I'm cool. Some Army are badasses, yes, but when shit gets crazy, too hot to handle, who do they call? The Air Force. and duh. Air Force spawned from the Army. We became our own branch when we met aliens. People need to learn their history... So with that said...

In tech school, during the weekends, we had regular instructors act as our MTL's (babysitters). I liked these guys because we didn't know enough about each other to hate each other yet. So, of course, that means I'm comfortable enough to fuck with them on a meaningless level. I go to the acting MTL who was playing cards with people, and I told him so and so had a stripper in their room. He freaked the fuck out. Threw his cards. Stood up cussing like he was about to kick some ass. He marched, stomped, like a toddler throwing a fit, all the way to the room, with a possy of Air Force students all ready to stir the shit pot. He pounded on the door like the police. The door opens, and as he opens his mouth to scream, he sees it. The floor stripper. That thing where you strip the old wax off the floor... He turned red, apologized for bothering anyone, his possy was cracking up, and they left with their tails between their legs...

And NO, I didn't get in any trouble over it. Dude had a sense of humor. 

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...

My super fabulous wedding

All you brides to be, grab your pen and pad and take some notes. This is the wedding of a lifetime. Celebrities? They ain't got shit on this.

I met my husband in August of 2004. We were both aggressively filing paperwork in the US CHAir Force, active duty, at the time. I had been on that base for a couple weeks, and I go outside to the smoke pit, and this beautiful Puerto Rican hunk of man meat was sitting out there smoking a cigarette. I was actually spending the day pampering myself, so I had like stuff in between my toes from my pedicure as I was walking outside on my heels. Anyway, we talked, all day, outside there. It was his first day on that base, and he needed some things from the store and had no car. So, I offered to drive him the next day. That's actually all I remember talking about. I think I was too busy humping him in my mind to pay attention to the shit I was saying otherwise.

I decided to take advantage of the situation (duh) and forced him to look at every store in town to price compare television sets. At one point, I even did that, "Oooh, look at this movie down here on the bottom shelf, not the movie, my sexy butt, okay the movie, keep looking at my butt." When we finally got back on base, it was dark. A Wyoming starry night was the perfect setting for a first kiss in my opinion, so I opened the moon roof and started asking what constellations were what. I know right? My swag is fantastical. It took about an hour of me being obsessed with the stars in sight of where I had to lean in his personal bubble, mouth close to mouth, before he got the fucking clue to kiss me. I knew right then and there, this man is dumb enough to marry.

Not to sound like the only slut in the room, but clothes came off after that and he never left my dorm room except to work. Really, he was just supposed to be a one night stand because he was younger than me. I would never seriously date a guy who was younger than me. He years later confessed that I was supposed to be a one night stand as well, and that it took him about a month to remember my name. In his defense, it took me about a year of being married to finally spell his name.

NOTE: In the military, E3 and below lived in the dorms, unless they are married or rank up to E4. We could get apartments, but the military did not supply BAS or BAH for single E3's (because we had dorms instead of BAH and the free meals at the dining facility for BAS).

A few months later, we broke up for about 4 hours. That's when I think we realized we were probably going to get married some day. We actually talked about it a few times after that, planning something closer to our one year anniversary mark of meeting, like ideally, the wedding would be on that day.

My separation date was approaching. I was volunteering a lot at the tax office on base to get away from my NCO with short man syndrome, and it's been confirmed by men who showered with him that I'm very accurate with my theory that my NCO probably had the smallest dick on that whole base, and yes, that was a question I asked people. Like, "how are you? Good good, and how's the shop? Good, and out of curiosity, you deployed with so and so didn't you? Yeah, well did you shower with him? Did he have a vagina?" Anyway, I managed to finagle everything so my outprocessing process was something where I checked in with the tax office (instead of my NCO), which gave me loads more freedom, like I could have gone to my dorm, slept, masturbated, and then went shopping during my duty day for all my boss cared. I was Untouchable at that point.

So, one Friday morning, I was sitting in my car getting ready to go into a building for a signature to outprocess, and my cell rang. It was my boyfriend. I guess during the formation I missed that morning (oops), they asked for people who were bilingual Spanish and English. He was one of several who raised his hand, and he was the one they chose to deploy. I guess a bunch of guys in El Salvador got food poisoning bad enough to come home, and they needed to replace the linguist. They told him he'd be flying out on Sunday, 2 days later.

So I'm freaking the fuck out. Here I am outprocessing with no where to go after separation a week away. We had planned on getting an apartment together, but he would be the only one with a pay check for a minute. I didn't feel right using his money on rent for a place he wasn't staying. I sure as hell didn't want to be stuck in Wyoming by myself waiting on some boyfriend who could dump me before he returns home. So I did what any woman in my situation would have done. I proposed over the cell phone. It went something like, "Well I'm not sticking around for a boyfriend, if you don't want me moving back home with my mom, you probably should consider marrying me." And he was like, "Well I don't want you cheating on me with that Tech Sgt you constantly flirt with. I was thinking maybe we should get married so that way I know you are still here when I get back." Then I'm like, "Let me call and see if we can afford the fees and swing this today."

So I called the courthouse, got all the information, called the boyfriend back "Yes we can afford it, and yes we can do this today on our lunch break." He was like, 'See you at lunch." So then I call my mother and tell her.

Lunch time approaches, we get the certificate and stuff. The judge takes the same lunch break as we do, so we had to wait on the judge, and while waiting, we got lunch from Wendy's or McDonalds or something and called for witnesses. We needed 2 witnesses. Out of 50 friends, not one answered their phone. So, we are like 15 minutes away from it thinking it wasn't going to happen because we had no witnesses, and we were going to be late coming back from lunch, which some people could be assholes and call it going AWOL.

Finally, I get the bright idea... I called the tax office. The receptionist has to be there during lunch to answer the phone. She did, like the fabulous receptionist she was. She also closed down the tax office (not allowed) to leave, grabbed her boyfriend who was at home on his day of leave, and dragged his ass to my wedding. I totally have no idea what their names are.

I always wanted to get married in green. My favorite painting in art appreciation class was Jan Van Eyck's Arnolfini "Wedding" Portrait (the picture in this post). My art teacher explained that green was the old school traditional color for a wedding dress because it helped ensure fertility. So my wedding colors were definitely camouflage green and black maybe? I don't know. I was wearing my BDU's (Battle Dress Uniform, you can't get better symbolism than that for a wedding) and combat boots. The judge had married many grooms in that attire, but I was her first bride (swing my head up high with pride). Let it be known, I think the green worked on the fertility thing, three kids later.

The hubs didn't end up deploying for two weeks after that due to paperwork issues, so he actually got to help me move us into an apartment. I really anticipated this marriage to die within 2 years. We've been married almost 8 years now. Not bad for a one night stand.

My Zombie Apocalypse Experience

I had this awful, vivid dream last night. I was debating on even posting about it at all to begin with. I ended up posting it on Insane in the Mom-Brain's Facebook page because she's into this sort of thing, but then I decided by the time I finished, it could be a blog post, and it's worthy of coming back to in the future to read. So I'm blogging it too.

Well while Insane in the Mom-Brain was busy getting famous with Yo Flakes (talking snow flakes who didn't melt, like the California Raisins but snowy), I was killing zombies. It was like I was a character in a bad movie that had a never ending supply of sequels to it. I think I just put in 5 years of service here in one night.


My first zombie apocalypse team was the Scooby Doo team. None of them made it. Fred was the first to die actually, and Velma was the last. Shaggy and Scooby did die together.

My second team was a bunch of students and an old pastor from a church. The football player who wanted to join the Marine Corps was the only one to make it. He was really dumb, but he had a big heart. It was really sad too because there was this little strawberry blond girl in love with a black boy, and he loved her but they were broken up and didn't get back together because they are stupid teenagers too scared to talk about it. I got really close to that girl before she disappeared. The boy didn't make it when his twin brother showed up and started beating him up right in the middle of a bunch of zombies. 

Anyway, then, we (football player dude and I) were just loners bouncing from group of people to group of people protecting them and using some of their stuff. 


Few things I learned from this experience. 

1. Zombies smell really bad. Kind of like the smell of the gynecologist's office mixed with a meat packing plant mixed with decaying flesh. Like take the smell of changing your pad on that time of the month and amplify it a thousand times to give you a sense of potency and stench of zombies. Really super gross when you get pieces of zombie on you as you're killing them. Even worse, it's like bleach. You get near it, and the stench sticks to your nose hairs, snot and tastebuds for hours. Nobody wants a zombie apocalypse for this reason alone. Trust. Me.

2. Zombie worms taste better when eaten while they are still alive, but don't let them get in your hair. 

3. The Air Force is an awesome friend in the case of a zombie apocalypse, up until the point they all become zombies. Knowing how to operate their equipment would be a fabulous thing to know, like how to fly a bomber and blow up shit. 

4. You definitely want stuff that can fly. Besides the obvious, crossing bridges full of zombies suck. Fly over the terrain.

5. A time machine is also useful. While you will send your own family back in time to a safer place, you will still go time traveling to try to find out what started the whole thing and try to stop it for your future generations.

6. Every time it rains or snows, shit always happens. 

7. Never trust the old minister. They are the first to go insane, like we are all going to die anyway let's get maniacal about it and make people die insane.

8. I think I might of gotten the 2 year old's dream last night by accident and that scares me that she might have dreams like this. 

9. I'd very much rather kill noravirus and Christmas mess than zombies. I have a new found respect for boring.

10. If there was ever a zombie apocalypse, I will never survive the mental stress unless my main goal is to chase and kill them as opposed to run from them. 

11. Most teenagers in my dream seemed to be more upset that they were running out of marijuana than they were about the zombies trying to eat them, and that makes me sad because I think it would be that way in real life. 

12. Never forget to fill up gas during daylight hours.

13. Speaking of gas, dreams about zombies give me gas. Wretched, crampy painful gas.

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.