Proof That I May be Crazy...
I think I can prove that my brain is turning into marshmallows. Here is concrete proof that I am in trouble: I am watching Toddlers & Tiaras on TLC. The worse part is- I am enjoying it. My life is going down the crapper.
The Fair Maiden's Closet
Once upon a time there was a fair maiden that had a condition known as hairspray headache. Her parents took her to doctor after doctor. Each doctor told them that the headaches were all caused by the same thing: Aqua Net hairspray overload. As it turned out the fair maiden spent hours doing her make-up and getting her 'wall-of-bangs' just right. The maiden would not dare to step out of her cottage without the right make-up, perfect clothes, and the stiffest hair in all the land, even if it took many hours and several cans of Aqua Net hairspray to get it just right. The maiden was content in the knowledge that this was the way her life would always be.
After she finished school she went to work for a local clothing merchant. A decade had passed. The 'wall of bangs' was now replaced with the 'Rachel look' from Friends. Aqua Net was replaced with higher end hairsprays and styling products. The maiden dressed even better than before. You see she got a kick-ass discount for new clothes from the merchant. The maiden had a new outfit for almost everyday of the week. Her headaches were a thing of the past because she no longer took hours to get ready in the morning. She had become a pro. Her hair was fabulous, her clothes rocked, and her face was beautiful.
But the merchant was stingy. The maiden wanted to make more gold. She went found a job working for a big corporation. The big corporation did not require the maiden to wear fancy clothes, style her hair, or even wear make-up. Instead the corporation offered many extra hours to work for extra gold. The maiden reasoned that she could make the extra gold by working 'overtime' or she could spend the extra time getting pretty and make no gold. Since the maiden loved gold she went to work in jeans and a nice top. Her hair was still done nicely, but her make-up stayed in the bathroom drawer untouched.
One day the maiden fell ill. Maybe it was because she had exposed her brain to too much Aqua Net. No one can know for sure. The maiden once a perfectionist when it came to her dressing, doing her hair and make-up could now can barely get out of her nightgown. If she did manage it, she would put on mismatched clothes: blue socks, grey sweats, green top, and a pink sweater. It seemed like the maiden was now suffering from a rare case of 'Clown's Dressing Disease' or CDD for short.
Did I mention anywhere in this story that the maiden married a prince? Well she did. But she was still a maiden for some reason. Anyway, the prince kept buying her clothes in the hopes that the maiden would be cured of CDD, but he had no luck. He would come home to their cottage from fighting dragons to find his fair maiden in flannel nightgowns instead of the cute clothes that he has bought her. But to the prince's credit he always told the maiden that she looked beautiful anyway.
However, the maiden was so frustrated because she wanted to get all prettied up; not for her prince, but for herself. She wanted that part of her life back. But if anyone asked her why she could not manage it, well the truth was, she was just really too tired to make the effort.
It is uncertain what happened to the fair maiden. Some say they have seen her roaming the streets in her flannel nightgown with her puppy. Some say they have seen her dressed in a way that could only be described as a result of her CDD.
One thing this narrator knows for sure: The maiden has a butt load of clothes in her closet and should be able to find something cute to wear. 'Get out of your nightgown, Fair Maiden!' Sorry but tough love was the only way to go people.
I'd better go and get dressed...
After she finished school she went to work for a local clothing merchant. A decade had passed. The 'wall of bangs' was now replaced with the 'Rachel look' from Friends. Aqua Net was replaced with higher end hairsprays and styling products. The maiden dressed even better than before. You see she got a kick-ass discount for new clothes from the merchant. The maiden had a new outfit for almost everyday of the week. Her headaches were a thing of the past because she no longer took hours to get ready in the morning. She had become a pro. Her hair was fabulous, her clothes rocked, and her face was beautiful.
But the merchant was stingy. The maiden wanted to make more gold. She went found a job working for a big corporation. The big corporation did not require the maiden to wear fancy clothes, style her hair, or even wear make-up. Instead the corporation offered many extra hours to work for extra gold. The maiden reasoned that she could make the extra gold by working 'overtime' or she could spend the extra time getting pretty and make no gold. Since the maiden loved gold she went to work in jeans and a nice top. Her hair was still done nicely, but her make-up stayed in the bathroom drawer untouched.
One day the maiden fell ill. Maybe it was because she had exposed her brain to too much Aqua Net. No one can know for sure. The maiden once a perfectionist when it came to her dressing, doing her hair and make-up could now can barely get out of her nightgown. If she did manage it, she would put on mismatched clothes: blue socks, grey sweats, green top, and a pink sweater. It seemed like the maiden was now suffering from a rare case of 'Clown's Dressing Disease' or CDD for short.
Did I mention anywhere in this story that the maiden married a prince? Well she did. But she was still a maiden for some reason. Anyway, the prince kept buying her clothes in the hopes that the maiden would be cured of CDD, but he had no luck. He would come home to their cottage from fighting dragons to find his fair maiden in flannel nightgowns instead of the cute clothes that he has bought her. But to the prince's credit he always told the maiden that she looked beautiful anyway.
However, the maiden was so frustrated because she wanted to get all prettied up; not for her prince, but for herself. She wanted that part of her life back. But if anyone asked her why she could not manage it, well the truth was, she was just really too tired to make the effort.
It is uncertain what happened to the fair maiden. Some say they have seen her roaming the streets in her flannel nightgown with her puppy. Some say they have seen her dressed in a way that could only be described as a result of her CDD.
One thing this narrator knows for sure: The maiden has a butt load of clothes in her closet and should be able to find something cute to wear. 'Get out of your nightgown, Fair Maiden!' Sorry but tough love was the only way to go people.
I'd better go and get dressed...
My Weekly Rant
Here's my rant:
I am a Facebook-lurker, so most of the time I keep my mouth shut and stay out of sight. I look at your vacation pictures, I 'like' your status', but for the most part I sit in the background watching the circus that is Facebook.
The following is a true story:
I was on the phone with my sister, her name is Ivy Jean. I decided to tell her that her name reminded me of the word 'vagina'. I didn't mean any harm by it. It was just a off the cuff comment. We were having one of those silly conversations. I realized that I am probably the only person on the face of the earth that made that particular association...well until she posted this on her Facebook wall and these are the responses that came after. I omitted all of the last names to protect the identity of all those involved.
Now why in the world would she post that on her wall? I wouldn't have. I would have kept that between her and I. She didn't have to broadcast it to all of her friends that Ivy Jean has a link to vagina.
I am not embarrassed by what I told her. I have no regret. My comment was not meant to harm or be spiteful in anyway. It is just one of those things you say when your filter isn't fitting on just right.
Now when I say the word Ivy Jean I bet you thought of the word vagina. Now look at that; we associate the word vagina with her name. Ivy Jean...gotcha again! See this stuff really works. Now you can use the two words interchangeably.
Now all of her Facebook friends are in the same boat as I am in. Most likely they all think of vagina when they hear or see her name. I don't know how many people would be willing to admit it, but you know who you are. For the record Since she put it on Facebook, it's official her name is now synonymous with the word vagina.
My sister, I do love her, and God bless her too. She decided to take this whole vagina thing to a whole 'nother level. She bought a Dairy Queen ice cream cake for dessert. It was yummy. It was a Cinderella cake. Yeah, but the bad thing was, she had the nice lady at the DQ write ''Vag Cake' on it. That cake was meant for a sweet little girl's birthday. But no my sister had to celebrate her new and improved name, 'vag'. Plus the ladies at my local DQ are going to think about vagina every time she comes in to get a ice cream. That is no way to live, Ivy Jean!
This too was also posted on her Facebook wall. With the caption: Mmm... Vag cake.... :D
Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself and never told her what I thought of her name. But I don't understand why she has to keep broadcasting it to the universe. I also don't have a problem with vaginas in any way, I say be proud if you got 'em. But come on a vag cake, really?
Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself and never told her what I thought of her name. But I don't understand why she has to keep broadcasting it to the universe. I also don't have a problem with vaginas in any way, I say be proud if you got 'em. But come on a vag cake, really?
Tired
The Person I Admire the Most.
The Person I Admire The Most:
By: Amy
The person that admire the most is a young lady who has grace, pose and confidence. She is my daughter.
My favorite thing about her, is her laugh. She laughs from way deep inside her soul. When she does share her laugh with the world she still has the laugh of a sweet child. My daughter has the best sense of humor.
Another thing that is great about my daughter is that she 'hearts' her father. The three of us get along so well and how many families can say that nowadays.
I like her because she goes and gets me water with ice. She is doing that right now. She is a good girl.
Oh, and ask her a question, man is she smart. I admire her brains too.
I admire the friendship she give to all of her friends. If you are one of my daughter's friends then you are very lucky.
I love the fact that she will still go out in public with me. Enough said about that one.
I also admire the way she sings in the shower. She holds a rock-out performance everyday.
Actually come to think I admire and love everything about my daughter...go figure.
I am the biggest fan my daughter will ever have...
By: Amy
The person that admire the most is a young lady who has grace, pose and confidence. She is my daughter.
My favorite thing about her, is her laugh. She laughs from way deep inside her soul. When she does share her laugh with the world she still has the laugh of a sweet child. My daughter has the best sense of humor.
Another thing that is great about my daughter is that she 'hearts' her father. The three of us get along so well and how many families can say that nowadays.
I like her because she goes and gets me water with ice. She is doing that right now. She is a good girl.
Oh, and ask her a question, man is she smart. I admire her brains too.
I admire the friendship she give to all of her friends. If you are one of my daughter's friends then you are very lucky.
I love the fact that she will still go out in public with me. Enough said about that one.
I also admire the way she sings in the shower. She holds a rock-out performance everyday.
Actually come to think I admire and love everything about my daughter...go figure.
I am the biggest fan my daughter will ever have...
I Wouldn't Kick Him Out of Bed For Eating Crackers!
When I watch TV, see a movie, or when a cute crooner catches my fancy I always say, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers!' It's pretty bad. It's a knee jerk reaction.
I saw a movie that featured Jude Law and the first thing out of my mouth was, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.' Jude Law really isn't even my type with the exception of his adorable face, and that accent. He gets a lot of bonus points for his accent. If I am being completely honest the whole UK starts out in a positive due to the accent thing.
I saw a movie that featured Jude Law and the first thing out of my mouth was, 'I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.' Jude Law really isn't even my type with the exception of his adorable face, and that accent. He gets a lot of bonus points for his accent. If I am being completely honest the whole UK starts out in a positive due to the accent thing.
Now to whom do I share this tidbit of information with? Why it is none other than my darling husband! Who always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he doesn't want to hear anything about crackers, beds, and other men, then maybe he should go to different movie theaters, watch different TVs, or never listen to music with me. Then there will never be that awkward moment when I kick him in the gut with my knee jerk reaction.
Cute unattainable Hollywood hunk= dumb ass sayings. That is my problem.
Cute unattainable Hollywood hunk= dumb ass sayings. That is my problem.
If I suddenly tried to take what I said back I don't think anyone would believe me. I say this phrase almost every time I see a famous man who I think is hot-damn. Just so you know that I am not a cracker ho; I do not mentally invite random people off the street to have a cracker buffet on my mattress. I do have 'Hollywood' standards.Sorry if your not famous then please exit stage right.
As I was saying, as the credits rolled and Jude's name flashed by, I turned to my sweet husband, and informed him that Jude Law would be on my ever growing list of those who were allowed to cracker dine in my bed without repercussions.
To which my husband smiled and said, 'It's just nice to know you would never kick me out of bed for eating crackers either.'
To which my husband smiled and said, 'It's just nice to know you would never kick me out of bed for eating crackers either.'
Then it hit me. The night before my husband had brought some saltines with him to bed. I thought it was an odd choice for someone with a case of the midnight munches. But who am I to judge? He ate his crackers, gave me a happy kiss and went to sleep. I went to sleep thinking of how much I loved him. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
HE GOT ME WITH THE CRACKERS! It was a test.
I can only imagine what would have happened if I had told him to get his saltine butt out of my bed. Of course I never would have done that. I love him more than anything in this whole world. Even if he had went all 'Cookie Monster' on those crackers, and the crackers went flying every which way I would have never ask him to leave.
Truth be told if all of the cute guys from Tinseltown came knocking on my door wanting to spend quality cracker time with me; I would get their autographs and introduce them to my husband.
I can only imagine what would have happened if I had told him to get his saltine butt out of my bed. Of course I never would have done that. I love him more than anything in this whole world. Even if he had went all 'Cookie Monster' on those crackers, and the crackers went flying every which way I would have never ask him to leave.
Truth be told if all of the cute guys from Tinseltown came knocking on my door wanting to spend quality cracker time with me; I would get their autographs and introduce them to my husband.
And as for my husband: I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers.
What Are They Saying?
Currently I am watching the rain fall from my bed. I am confined to my bed. My brain had big plans today, but my bossy body said, 'Well, that's too bad, so sad. You're staying right here.'
One thing I was not going to do today was clean my house. I don't do that anymore. (No, you won't see me on an upcoming episode of A&E's Hoarders.) I hired weekly housekeepers. See, there is a silver lining to this whole thing! I get someone else to clean my bathrooms!
I just sat around while the cleaning ladies cleaned. It was pretty nice. Actually it was pretty freaking awesome.
I seriously have to learn Spanish though because the ladies who clean my house speak Spanish. I want to know if they are talking about me, and my house. I need to know if I am being insulted.
I also need to learn Vietnamese for that matter. When I get pedicures done I seem to get them done by sweet Vietnamese girls, however I am always paranoid that they are jabbing between themselves, talking about how crusty my feet are. It makes me a little self-conscience when they chortle back and forth. But in my defense I just have to say if my feet were perfect I wouldn't need a pedicure. So chortle away ladies!
I am looking forward to next week. I am going to my doctor today and he is going to find away to fix this anemic thing I got going on. If Google is right, then all I need are some injections and I will be as right as rain. Then I will never see this bed again except between the hours of 11pm and 7am.
When my daughter was only two years old and it was time for her to go to bed; she would climb up the stairs mumbling to herself the same four words night after night.
I would like to quote her now, as I can not think of any other phrase that would express how I feel in this very moment.
This was her catchphrase: 'I hate my stupid bed!' Well said my sweet darling girl!
- I was going to shopping for new clothes
- I was going to go for coffee- to my favorite Starbucks of course, of course.
- I was going to get my name changed on my medical card from my maiden name to my married name. I am married in everyone's eyes with the exception of the medical community. I am still known by my maiden name to them. I haven't been married that long, only 16 years. Great, now my doctor's receptionist is going to give me the stink eye when I go in today. I promised with my hand on my heart that I would get my name changed. She has been chewing me out for so long. All I have to do is go down to Service BC, show my marriage certificate, and the lady at the desk will do the rest. I don't have to do anything but stand there and smile. Oh man I hate the stink eye
One thing I was not going to do today was clean my house. I don't do that anymore. (No, you won't see me on an upcoming episode of A&E's Hoarders.) I hired weekly housekeepers. See, there is a silver lining to this whole thing! I get someone else to clean my bathrooms!
I just sat around while the cleaning ladies cleaned. It was pretty nice. Actually it was pretty freaking awesome.
I seriously have to learn Spanish though because the ladies who clean my house speak Spanish. I want to know if they are talking about me, and my house. I need to know if I am being insulted.
I also need to learn Vietnamese for that matter. When I get pedicures done I seem to get them done by sweet Vietnamese girls, however I am always paranoid that they are jabbing between themselves, talking about how crusty my feet are. It makes me a little self-conscience when they chortle back and forth. But in my defense I just have to say if my feet were perfect I wouldn't need a pedicure. So chortle away ladies!
I am looking forward to next week. I am going to my doctor today and he is going to find away to fix this anemic thing I got going on. If Google is right, then all I need are some injections and I will be as right as rain. Then I will never see this bed again except between the hours of 11pm and 7am.
When my daughter was only two years old and it was time for her to go to bed; she would climb up the stairs mumbling to herself the same four words night after night.
I would like to quote her now, as I can not think of any other phrase that would express how I feel in this very moment.
This was her catchphrase: 'I hate my stupid bed!' Well said my sweet darling girl!
My Safeway Starbucks
I live in Canada, and in my neck of the woods we experienced a big snow dump last week which included an arctic cold front. Wow, it's a good thing my friends, family and I all live in Canada as we had the luxury of waiting for the storm to be over in the comfort of our igloos.
I'm lucky my igloo is surrounded by three Starbucks. Even better news those guys at Starbucks are just finishing another location, so soon I will have four Starbucks to choose from! The best part is I don't even have to take the sled dogs out because the Starbucks people made sure that I could walk to all of them within five minutes. Cool.
My favorite Starbucks is located in my neighborhood Safeway grocery store. I know weird, huh? It doesn't have the comfortable chairs, and you can't choose from a million different pastries because they are just a tiny-rinky-dinky location, but they make the best drinks in the world.
I have deduced a few things about the management of this Starbucks, which is one gentleman by the name of Jeff.
To his credit and the other staff members long hair or not they never have frown-y faces. I went to a different Starbucks last week. I had to as I was out of town. The woman behind the counter had a bad attitude. She was all up in my grill about how I said my coffee order, she was rolling her eyes at me. It took all I had not to say, 'Am I bothering you? Is this a work for free day?' The coffee tasted crappy, but that is what I get for cheating on Jeff and the girls.
Now I make espresso drinks at home. My guest tell me that they are delicious. I have spent a lot of money on my equipment, and about ten years learning my craft. I can make you a foot of foam if you desire; yeah I am that good.
If I needed to get a job I would think Starbucks would be a perfect fit for me. I love their coffee, they would let me drink it for free, and they would pay me to make it.
I also think I am super qualified to work at a Starbucks if you minus out my crappy stuff that keeps me from going back to work for real. I am smart, super friendly, my husband says I am pretty, I can make you a kick-ass coffee. Yeah, but what's the point I could never be hired at my favorite location. My dreams of being a 'Super Barista' have gone up in smoke because I have short hair.
I could grow it long, but truth be told I look crappy with long hair.
If I want to be a barista my only option at this time would be to go to the grocery store across the street from Safeway and ask them if I can set up my espresso machine in their store. I would serve up the world's greatest coffee there. I would call a throw down on Jeff that's for sure! I know how to train people too, and I would only hire smart, sweet, good looking guys with short hair.
However, I got a pretty nice gig sleeping in until nine in the morning, sitting around in my jammies until whenever,and then strolling over to have great coffee at Jeff's Starbucks. They know my friends and I. As soon as they see me coming to the counter they are already making my drink.
It's a sunny day today and I am thinking about going out for coffee, but the truth is today it is just a pipe dream, because I'm anemic. The five minute walk might as well be five hours. Instead I will just give Jeff and the girls a nod and thought, and maybe tomorrow I will well enough to get out there and go and see them.
I'm lucky my igloo is surrounded by three Starbucks. Even better news those guys at Starbucks are just finishing another location, so soon I will have four Starbucks to choose from! The best part is I don't even have to take the sled dogs out because the Starbucks people made sure that I could walk to all of them within five minutes. Cool.
My favorite Starbucks is located in my neighborhood Safeway grocery store. I know weird, huh? It doesn't have the comfortable chairs, and you can't choose from a million different pastries because they are just a tiny-rinky-dinky location, but they make the best drinks in the world.
I have deduced a few things about the management of this Starbucks, which is one gentleman by the name of Jeff.
- He makes great drinks.
- He is an awesome mentor, because all of the girls make the same great tasting drinks. It is never a hit and miss there.
- He seems to only hire girls. I have seen the occasional boy, but they don't seem to last long.
- He hires a certain 'type' of girl: The 'type' of girl he hires can be classified as: intelligent, sweet, having a good attitude, and must have long hair.
To his credit and the other staff members long hair or not they never have frown-y faces. I went to a different Starbucks last week. I had to as I was out of town. The woman behind the counter had a bad attitude. She was all up in my grill about how I said my coffee order, she was rolling her eyes at me. It took all I had not to say, 'Am I bothering you? Is this a work for free day?' The coffee tasted crappy, but that is what I get for cheating on Jeff and the girls.
Now I make espresso drinks at home. My guest tell me that they are delicious. I have spent a lot of money on my equipment, and about ten years learning my craft. I can make you a foot of foam if you desire; yeah I am that good.
If I needed to get a job I would think Starbucks would be a perfect fit for me. I love their coffee, they would let me drink it for free, and they would pay me to make it.
I also think I am super qualified to work at a Starbucks if you minus out my crappy stuff that keeps me from going back to work for real. I am smart, super friendly, my husband says I am pretty, I can make you a kick-ass coffee. Yeah, but what's the point I could never be hired at my favorite location. My dreams of being a 'Super Barista' have gone up in smoke because I have short hair.
I could grow it long, but truth be told I look crappy with long hair.
If I want to be a barista my only option at this time would be to go to the grocery store across the street from Safeway and ask them if I can set up my espresso machine in their store. I would serve up the world's greatest coffee there. I would call a throw down on Jeff that's for sure! I know how to train people too, and I would only hire smart, sweet, good looking guys with short hair.
However, I got a pretty nice gig sleeping in until nine in the morning, sitting around in my jammies until whenever,and then strolling over to have great coffee at Jeff's Starbucks. They know my friends and I. As soon as they see me coming to the counter they are already making my drink.
It's a sunny day today and I am thinking about going out for coffee, but the truth is today it is just a pipe dream, because I'm anemic. The five minute walk might as well be five hours. Instead I will just give Jeff and the girls a nod and thought, and maybe tomorrow I will well enough to get out there and go and see them.
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