Overdue TMI

I promised a tale of TMI if my peeps donated to my Pie in the Face efforts to give the orphans in Kyrgyzstan a Christmas to remember. Actually I promised a little TMI if ya'll got me to the $300 mark. But you guys rock and put me to my goal of $500! For all you wonderful, big-hearted and sexy mofo's, this one's for you!

But in particular, this post is dedicated to Frank, not just because I'm sure he'll enjoy the confession-ridden, fleshy goodness of this post, but because he's awesome... and about 41 kids on the other side of the planet would certainly agree.

I've been really trying to search the archives in the ol' noggin for a good TMI story and it was much harder than I anticipated. Our dear friend Jenksy wows us with incredible adventures of TMI every Thursday (and oh how I count down the week days). He makes it look so easy and yet I was coming up empty handed. I was quite disappointed with myself, and at the same time a bit proud that I had no tales of vomiting on a date or peeing myself at a gas station (NTTAWWT). I started to think, "hey, maybe I'm far more classy than I give myself credit for! Why, I'm downright lady-like!".

And then I came across an old picture.

While in college in Fort Lauderdale, I worked and lived at a riding stable. It was awesome; 20 acres, 51 horses and a 2 1/2 bedroom house to myself. Granted, the house was kinda a piece of crap and I had to kick my former roommates out and living where you work really means you never get a day off (never mind ever calling in sick), but apart from that it was great. And I also got to move my horse down with me. Awesome.

Rent on the old crap shack was $400 a month, board for my horse was $100 a month and grain, vet and blacksmith was extra... and of course there was the expensive of college and books too. Oh yeah, and food, electricity, phone... blah, blah, blah.

Unfortunately my job at the riding stables paid $201 a week. Actually, it paid $250 a week but my boss took out $49 a week for taxes. Sadly, for two years he must have forgotten to pass along those with holdings to Uncle Sam because I have a big ol' blank spot in my work history with Social Security and by the end of my service at the farm, the IRS was all over my boss, who decided to solve his financial woes by hanging himself... but I digress.

So $201 a week. I worked 6 days a week, weekends were 12 hour work days, but they gave me the flexibility I needed for school. And I really did love the job and my co-workers.

But you don't have to be a mathematician to know I was po! Happy... but really, really po.

And then I learned about a little thing at a local bar called "Dressed To Kill" Fridays. It was simple, woman came dressed to kill, and lady with the most killer outfit, or whatever, went home with $500.

Lucky for me, my best friend in college always dressed like a hooker. Her daily outfits consisted of skin-tight pleather with no lack of skin exposed. But it worked for her as she started dating our Audio Engineering professor... and had a 4.0 GPA. But again, I digress.
So she took me shopping at a stripper clothing store (and in Ft. Lauderdale, there's plenty of both!). She helped me select an outfit fashioned primarily of vinyl, with matching boots, and I was in business. Oh wait, that sounds wrong. No, not that business.

So Friday came around and we melted into our plastic-y outfits (hey, it's Florida! Vinyl doesn't *breathe* well) and headed over to the local dive. We didn't really know what to expect. Would we be required to do a cat walk? Perform a talent (shut up!)? Or answer questions like 'how would we bring about world peace?'?
Nope. In fact we ordered a drink (the first and last drink I ever paid for at the dive) and played Buzztime interactive bar trivia for a few hours until the owner announced that the lady in the red vinyl shorts had won! CHA-CHING!!!!!! Easiest freakin' money EVER! two weeks worth of pay for hangin' with my homegirl and enjoy all the free drinks the bartender offered us. I collected my envelope of cash and went right home to peel off my sticky outfit to sleep.

And every Friday night I'd show up again, play trivia, a game or two of darts (after a few weeks I earned the name 'dart girl' - damn those guys would always be dropping their darts. I was always nice enough to pick them up) and enjoy free drinks. Around 11pm I'd go home with my $500 cash.

Easy money, baby!

What? You expected (more) sex? scandal?

Would you settle for a picture then?

You Made It Happen

I hope everyone had a fabulous and merry Christmas. There are hundreds and hundreds of children in Kyrgyzstan that are enjoying the wonders of the season because of your generosity. Please go visit this site to see the magic.


And this is where I'd post my own pictures from our Merry Christmas... if I hadn't dropped my camera and shattered it. And then it played a little payback at me by some how deleting every picture. Every. single. picture. Including every Christmas picture.

And a memorable video of Morgan flipping out when she opened her favorite gift.

Sigh. It was awesome.

I Do For You Baby

On occasion I indulge in a little, well, indulgence, by visiting my local nail salon, OK Nails. Yes, I know, they don't exactly set the bar too high with that name. But it's cheap and you don't need an appointment so it's all good.

And yes, this is the same nail salon that plied Bev and I with cheap pink wine and painted flowers on as many nails as they could before we slurrily protested (after all, they're only $4 more).

Over the years I've learned to just get a pedicure when asked, otherwise this is the ensuing conversation:

OK - What I do for you, baby?
Me - Manicure please.
OK - you want pedicure too?
Me - (it's middle of winter, even I don't see my toes, never mind anyone else). No thank you.
OK - Why you no want pedicure? (all the other nail techs now stop and stare).
Me - Ummmm, I just don't. But thanks.
OK - Ohhhhh, you no have a boyfriend, baby?
Me - What?
OK - Why you no have boyfriend?
Me - Ummmm, I...I'm married.. What does that have to do with...
OK - Ohhhh, you no have boyfriend. You have pedicure, you get boyfriend, baby.
Me - I'm not sure my husband would appreciate that.
OK - Ohhhhhh, you afraid.
Me - Of a pedicure?
OK - You get nice boyfriend.
Me - *sigh* fine. I'll take a pedicure. Where's my crappy pink wine?


This lady has obviously visited OK Nail's sister shop.

To Stuart

I thought of you when I saw this... but in a good way.

No "L"

T'was a Week Before Christmas...

Some people hang their stockings by the chimney with care...

Beck prefers hanging his undies on the door.

Next time he may want to take them off first...

or not.

That's Going on the Blog

Here's a little sign I spotted today while sitting in the customer waiting area at my local Toyota dealership:

In case you can't read it:

Attention customers

Due to our poor water quality, we are unable to wash cars at this time. Currently, our water leaves spots and residue on the vehicles and at times, leaves the vehicles with a less than satisfactory appearance. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause for you and we are working diligently to correct this problem. We appreciate you patience and as always, thank you for your business!!!

Oh, and enjoy the coffee.

Memory Lane Monday

While riffling through the old file cabinet for a shipping envelope (which I never found, if you care) I came across an old copy of Pro Sound News magazine, a periodical for the recording industry.
In a former life I used to work in a Pro Audio Rep firm. It was an awesome gig. Among other things, our job was to make sure recording artists got their hot little hands on the products we represented. Some of my more memorable clients were Mike Score of Flock of Seagulls, who I always questioned where his accent went, Rob Van Winkle who I was always polite to and never laughed at... mostly., Emilio Estefan, who I mistakenly hung up on each and every time he'd call, but luckily he was close friends with my boss, and I was cute otherwise good at my job, so I wasn't fired we were good.
We also made sure our stuff was available for credit on album recordings. I clearly recall Carlos Santana calling in for some equipment on an album he was recording. I could hardly control my laughter! Santana!? Like he'll ever have another song on the radio! Yeah, Supernatural went on to sell 15 million copies, 9 Grammy awards, Album of the Year... blah, blah, blah. Did I mention I was cute?

Anyhoo, one of the perks of the job was traveling to Los Angeles to attend NAMM which is a huge industry convention where all the music artists, producers, engineers, ect could come out and play with all the newest equipment. My duties at NAMM were to be there, which I did...mostly. Beyond that I'd make sure our clients were happy and that I get certain industry people to come to particular events. Oh, you may remember that I'm missing that gene that allows me to recognize people , well it's made even more fun when I'm supposed to recognize people I've never met. Luckily Slash and Ace Frehley were easy to spot. But it took me half a dinner with Eric Burdon before I had a clue who he was. Luckily he was a good sport about it, after all I was only 22.

So one of my other duties at NAMM was to show up for photo ops. And show up I did...but just barely.


Here's a page out of that Pro Sound News. I had no idea this little photo shoot was going to end up in full color in a national magazine. MmmBop! there I am right there under the picture of that little girl from Hanson.

What? It's not like I look like I may have spent the entire night out in LA and only returned to my hotel that morning to grab my nifty little name badge, does it? I think this is the day I took a little nap under the desk at the Mackie booth. What? Totally respectable people have found themselves needing to catch a few Zzzz's under a desk now and then! Right Bev?

Good times indeed.

Go Elf Yourself '09

Happy 300th post!

Pie Oh My!

You know I love ya'll when I post the most unflattering video ever. That's right, this is what you get on a Sunday morning after a lively evening with several bottles of wine friends, sans make-up and my hair totally un-did. But hey, I'm about to get a pie or two in the face so why bother getting dolled up, right?



Admittedly, the kids took it easy on me because I threatened them with eternal ground-ation they love me. Joe stopped the taping though just before I got Beck pretty good.
Oh and I didn't give him a bloody nose, the kids decided they wanted to be Rodolph this morning. Nice.
Thank you again to everyone who donated to make Christmas possible for 100 kids in Kyrgyzstan. All together 2129 orphans will get to celebrate a day they won't forget. You guys are awesome!!!

High Highs, Low Lows & everything In Between

I'll start with the highs...

I want to thank everyone who donated to bring Christmas to some very special orphans in Kyrgyzstan. When John first put out the challenge to raise $500 I knew it was a BIG goal. Even with the promise of taking a pie to the face if I reached the $500 mark, I knew it was a lot to ask. So I felt fairly safe from suffering from the pie.
But you guys really stepped up to the plate and the donations came in. You have no idea how thrilled I was to see my tally at $75 on my first day. $75!!! That's 15 kids getting a day they'll never forget.
And you guys didn't stop there!
By the last day of the challenge, Thanksgiving night, I was jumping for joy to see my total was $275! I never imagined we'd make Christmas possible for FIFTY-FIVE children!
With a few hours left in the challenge I put the word out on Facebook. I said if we could get to the $300 mark, I'd share a TMI story with y'all. Samsmama, donning her Superwoman cape, made ANOTHER donation and passed along the challenge to her FB peeps.
When I went to bed my total donations were at $295. I was overwhelmed by the amazing generosity of my bloggy and FB friends. It was an amazing feeling to enjoy as I drifted off to sleep.

Oh course, it may have also had something to do with feeling safe from flying pies and sharing embarrassing tales.

Anyhoo, the next morning I checked my final total so see whether or not I made it to the tell-all $300 mark.
I was shocked when I saw my final total..... $500!!!!!!!!!!

$500!!!!!!! That's ONE HUNDRED orphans' lives touched!!!!! ONE-HUNDRED CHILDREN who will enjoy a special day because of the YOUR generosity!!!!

I'm still in awe. I'm still overwhelmed. I'm still so full of gratitude for your generosity. You guys are awesome. I can not thank you enough.

So I'm working on my Tale of TMI plus recruiting someone old enough to hold a video camera so that I can do this pie thing in one take, mkay.

And unfortunately the lows...
Please keep Lori and her husband John in your hearts and prayers. I'm sure you all know Lori, she's the cute little perky commenter from Lori Does MD. They had to say goodbye to their beautiful little boy John Matthew just 8 hours after he was born. I still feel so shocked and heartbroken for them. It has taken me a week to even write this post. Matthew is beautiful and so very loved and his short little life has made such an impact on so many.

Tiny Angels

Tiny Angels rest your wings
sit with me for awhile.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".

Author Unknown

A Thanksgiving Story

Beck came home the other day from school and had to share the Pilgrims' story of Thanksgiving.

Thanks to Windows 7 I can't use my video editing software. Bastardos! So no subtitles for those of you who don't speak Beckanese.

I'm not sure how historically accurate his retelling is, but I'm sure it's true that at some point the poor oppressed British did shout at the king, "No Way Hor-Hey!"



Happy Turkey day everyone!

Flying Wallendas-es

I need to type this post while I can still move my finger tips.

Perhaps it's my desire to draw a thick black line through another item on my bucket list or my Peter Pain-ish need to never grow up (and for that matter, to fly) but I joined a aerial performance group today and started training on the trapeze and aerial fabric.

I figured since my previous experience in this field starts and ends with a number of visits to circus, as a cotton candy-eating spectator, the instructor would start me out easy. You know, maybe some stretches, maybe some simple dangling from the bar, terra firma just a few inches below.

Yeah. No. Not so much.

My first meeting with the trapeze bar had me doing a pike which starts with you hanging upside down with your arse and neatly pointed legs over your head. Oh, and hold it. Keeeeeeeping holding it.... Oh, that burning and shaking is just your muscles trying to flee from your body. You'll get used to it.

Next the instructor had me swing up into a seated position. ahhhhh, sitting! I can do this! Then drop back, let go and hang from my knees. I probably did something like this on the monkey bars as a kid, but I don't remember it... perhaps I fell. That would explain a lot.

Anyway, I'm dangling upside down by my knees. Sadly, despite the discomfort of all my blood rushing to my head, this would prove to be the easiest part of my training. From there we did some wretched arm lifts, some leverage moves and finally standing on my toes on the wee bar. Oh and did I mention, all of this is supposed to be done with grace?

Grace! Moi? Seriously, what the hell was I thinking?

And just as the skin on my hands started to peel off my palms and I fought back every urge to weep, we moved onto the fabric.

Oh sweet, soft, cozy fabric.

Ummmm, not really.

Lesson number one is of course climbing the long swaths of cloth. This task is accomplished by wrapping the fabric around one foot, pulling up and gripping the fabric against your other foot. And repeat. That rug burn sensation? You'll get used to that.

Oh and it's stretchy, so no matter how hard you work and struggle, you still only find yourself about 1/2 inch off the ground. Sonofa!

Next we worked on a wrist locks which requires a method of wrapping the fabric around your wrists. From there you flip upside down, wrap one leg around the fabric, and dangle your head and, neatly pointed, free leg down to the spinning Earth below. Then, release and gracefully flip back down to a standing position.

By this point all my shoulder muscles were plotting revenge, my arms were at least 5 inches longer than before we started and my abs were so sore I considered giving up breathing. As my feet touched the ground I realized two things; getting my wrists out of the fabric knots would be neither easy nor graceful. And I was dizzy. Really, really dizzy. Suddenly I found myself looking like an epileptic, drunk marionette. Dangling from my wrists I stumbled, staggered and spun. I couldn't get my balance, my head was spinning and the possibility of throwing up was all too real. I think my slightly greenish complexion and profuse sweating paired with my increasing panic over the situation clued the instructor to untie me and call it a night.

So I survived my first training session without falling, crying (loudly) or throwing up. But my muscles have made it very clear that they're pissed.

I don't think they'll be much happier tomorrow.

Here's a little inspiration. Pink can do all this and carry a note (and a pastie)! Yeah, she rocks.

(skip the first two minutes)

23

You guys are awesome!

So far 23 orphans will be enjoying Christmas this year because of YOU! 23 kids will get to experience a day full of fun, food, gifts and most of all, love and hope. 23 children who otherwise have nothing, will know that they matter, that people care.

I wanted to share a message from John, who has dedicated his life to helping the people of Beck's birth country:

It is more then just a Christmas Party, it is bringing a Hope that we are counting on to, in some cases, sustain life ....to give boys like Muksat reason NOT to try to commit suicide again.....

I try my best to simply tell the story here at actofkindness, and leave it to you to decide what to do with it, but today... I am asking please please please help us.... you see when this next week is over, and the challenge is done... we need to sit down and decide... who is NOT getting anything for Christmas this year.....
Please don't make us have to make that decision ....



Thank you to everyone who has logged onto John's site and donated money. I am overwhelmed by your generosity.
$5 will allow another child to experience a day full of wonder and hope. It's not too late! Let's not leave any child out.

These folks do amazing work. Thank you John and company!

Wordless Wednesday - Another Trip to the Beach

Hit Me With Your Best Shot!

I've been offered a challenge I can't refuse.


John Wright, who does absolutely wonderful things for the children and other needy folks in Kyrgyzstan (Beck's home country), has challenged us to take a pie to the face and raise money so the orphans in KG can celebrate Christmas.

For just $5, an orphan in Kyrgyzstan will be able to experience a wonderful day they will never forget! Just $5! That's less than a cocktail with dinner or one stop at Dunkin Donuts, but it will mean the world to a child who has nothing.

I'm so blessed to have Beck home, safe and sound, but what if things didn't work out like they did. Would he still be sitting in the orphanage, with no family and no hope? I thank God he's not, but there are still many who are. John Wright and his band of merry miracle workers shows these children that people do care and he gives them hope.

For every $5 donated another child gets to feel the love and wonderment of the season. For just $5 an orphan gets to know that someone cares.

So what do you get? Well, besides the warm and fuzzy feeling of knowing you rock, and my eternal love and admiration, I vow to take a pie in the face, complete with pictures, and maybe a video, if I reach my goal of $500. And because I love you all so much, maybe I'll take requests.

Please visit John's website and click the paypal button and sponsor a child for Christmas. Make sure you write my name in the paypal message so they know to whom to aim the pie at.

I thought the guys who frequent my blog may need additional inspiration to head on over and donate, so here ya go...



Mary Louise Parker says, "Sponsor a kid or I'll beat you with this rolling pin."

Showin' Mine

The Fantabulous Bevalicious shamed dared us to bare all on Friday... our desks that is. (relax you pervs!)
Of course Bev has nothing to hide. She has a neat and tidy workspace. Everything in its place. I know this first hand because I occasionally drop in after hours and write inappropriate messages on her phone message pad. What?
My "workspace" on the other hand consists of a cubby. Yes, a wee cabinet of a desk from which I manage 2 businesses and more importantly, do all my blog-stalking. Add to it's obscene wee-ness, the fact the kids use it as a dumping ground for every single painting, drawing, homework, notes from teachers and other pieces of crap they don't feel like finding a proper place for and there's no way to avoid disaster.
Joe often complains about how messy my "desk" is but I'm always quick to remind him that he has a real desk (you know, with writing surface and no doors!) here at the house, PLUS a 400+ sq ft office (WITH ANOTHER DESK - Yes, I have desk envy), PLUS his assistant has her own office with... wait for it.... a real frickin' desk!!! I HAVE LESS THAN 2 SQUARE FEET OF SPACE!!!! GET OFF MY GD BACK!!!!!!!

*breath* *breath*

Whew, sorry about that. Ummmm, I guess I may have some issues there.

Anyhoo, with out further warning delay *gulp* I present to you my *cough* desk.
























OK, STOP SCREAMING! I know, horrible.

Alright, I'll give you a tour. Seriously, don't stand up, we're not going far.
First, my lovely Dell... my old Dell which still possess all my e-mail addresses and website favorites so I'm sorta blackmailed into continuing the relationship.
Let's see, the thing on the keyboard, that's a bill I need to pay. Because it's sitting on the laptop that's essentially my priority file. The pile of crap to the right of it is stuff my kids leave on my "desk" or things I'll get around to...but not right now. We'll call that my "low priority" file.
Let's see, the crap stuck on the doors is the stuff I need to be able to find for a later date, but can't put into the "low priority" file cause that shit just gets lost.
What else.... oh my moisturizer; two kinds, because sometimes my skin just feels dry. And when I want to moisturize, I want it now.

So there you have it. my craptastic workspace. *sigh* it's kinda depressing.

Maybe next time I'll just flash ya.

Some People Are Just Askin' For It

Seemingly, the Blog Gods have taken notice of my bloggy malaise and lack of posting.

...Despite having a fabulous Halloween.

... and good times carving pumpkins.

...and sordid tales about this guy (OK, not really)

I just haven't been moved to mentally wrangle up a tale and work it out in a grammatically correct fashion.

blah.

So today, the Blog Gods got together and heaved a big, steaming pile of blog fodder right on my lap. And boy did it stink! Let me explain...

I'm naturally a chill person. I don't care for drama; I'm a live-and-let-live kinda gal. I pick my battles and I often bite my tongue to avoid conflict. I hate conflict. Seriously, it takes a lot to get my blood boiling, but once some asshat decides to take it there, oh it's on!

A few things you should know about me when I've been pushed out of my peace-lovin' love nest:

• Like a pitbull I will go for the throat... and I do NOT let go. One of us is going down...it's not going to be me.



• I get LOUD! Yes, if you're going to push me to be pissed off, EVERYONE will know it.



• I don't believe in hitting below the belt or responding in a juvenile way... but I will.



• I get the last word. Chances are you started it, it's only fair that I end it. Got it?

So I went to the chiropractor's office today with Beck. When we arrived, the waiting room was pretty full so Beck went straight to the corner that contains a basket of toys and I took a seat on the opposite side of the 10X10 room. Beck got busy playing nicely with the three other kids cramped in the corner. I watched them as the 4 kids stacked blocks and giggled amongst themselves... you know, how kids can naturally just start having fun with other kids. Good stuff.

Soon a man enters the waiting room and glares at everyone, spots the kids and "huffs". He sits with his back to the kids but constantly shoots nasty looks over his shoulder.

Mind you, I'm the first person to get annoyed by unruly children whose parents have better things to do than to mind their own offspring. Moreover, I'm pretty strict about how I expect my children to behave in public. I REFUSE to be one of those parents.

That being said, these four children were playing very well together. They stayed in their little corner, stacking blocks, occasionally *gasp* giggling.

The Cranky Old Bastard (COB) leans over and asks the guy next to him, "Who thought they could bring their kids."

I take a deep breath.

The doctor comes to the door and calls his next patient when COB says to him, "why don't you take the kids. They're out of control."

Oh GAME ON ASSHOLE!

Me: "Actually, those kids are behaving just fine."

COB : NO THEY'RE NOT! THEY"RE BEING ANIMALS!

Me : ANIMALS!? They're just kids, playing nicely.

COB : Well, this is a doctor's office!

Me: Yes, a Doctors office with a basket full of toys for the kids to play with while their waiting.

COB: I don't come here to listen to kids.

Me: I don't come here to deal with cranky, OLD, bitter men!

COB: Well they're being annoying

Me: Really? Because you're being annoying. They're kids. What's your excuse?

COB: (turning again to the other guy) Don't you think these kids are out of control?

Other Guy: Actually, they're playing just fine. They're well behaved. They're just kids.

Meanwhile the other parents are quickly ushering their kids out of the room, probably in fear that I was about to whoop this old fart's arse!

Then this other dude says to COB: "You're a very rude man, How dare you talk to this woman you don't even know. They're just kids! Get over yourself."

... and then he splits.

COB: Well I don't care, these kids are being too loud!

Me: No moron, they're not. they're no louder than the Muzak being piped into this room. (OK I didn't say Moron... but I was thinking it. No I wasn't. I was thinking much worse)

COB: Well that's your opinion.

Me: Yes, and apparently that of the rest of the room as well.

COB : Well I don't want to hear your opinion.

Me: (laughing) Well then you might have considered keeping your mouth closed and not sharing your opinion. But since you chose to run your mouth, then you're getting my opinion. It would be wise for you to shut up now...unless you want me to continue.

COB: (sensing I was batshit crazy and that the veins popping and pulsating on the side of my head and neck may indicate that I'm just getting started, COB averted his eyes in defeat, and mutters) unbelievable.

Me: Excuse me? What's unbelievable? The fact you are a grown man pissing and moaning about some kids playing and minding their own business or because someone won't put up with your garbage?

crickets...

c'mon! Do it! Breath another G-D word asshole! I'm just getting warmed up! I sat there, blood swishing in my ears, jaw clinched, shaking... just waiting for him to say another word, a cross-eyed look.... another "huff". He sat motionless, eyes on his shoes.... for the next 15 minutes.

Once in the doctor's office, the chiropractor apologized profusely. I recommend he give the bastard more than a spinal adjustment.

Some people just need their asses handed to them. Today I was more than happy to gift wrap!

Room To Breathe

Monday, Joe announced only hours before Morgan's dance class that he moved Morgan's dance shoes (TWO WEEKS AGO!!!)"because they needed to be put away", however he doesn't recall where exactly he put them... obviously not "away", but rather far, far away. We searched the house high and low and there's no sign of her dance shoes.

Oh, and did I mention her teacher is Hitler of the Dance? Yeah, there's no way we're showing up to dance without the proper dance shoes. I believe you get shot on sight for that.

So since Joe and his squirrelly ways got "us" into this situation, I suggested he get "us" out of it.

He spent the next 5 Minutes thinking through the situation and the best way to remedy his obvious blunder. He finally concocted the best plan to fix everything... he asked me to take care of it. Not the course of action I was hoping for, but time was ticking and let's face it, if I left it up to him he'd send her to ballet in SpongeBob slippers.
So I spent the afternoon calling around, trying to find the exact shoes required for class. A fifty mile road trip and $80 later I produced the required shoes, no help from the hubster of course.

Fast forward less than 24 hours later. I wake up to the sound of the school bus pausing momentarily at the end of our drive and then continuing on. I look at the clock; 7:18am! It seems as though the prospect of the alarm clock annoyingly waking up my husband bothered him so much that he turned it off before the little bugger had the chance to interrupt sleep.
I rush to get both kids up, fed, lunches packed and each off to their schools. Since Morgan missed most of last week due to our little visit from the Swinethrax Fairy, I felt it was imperative to get her to school on time. I ask Joe if he'd bring Morgan and I'd get Beck. His reply as he calmly enjoyed his breakfast, "I don't know where her school is." and simply continued watching Fox and Friends.

WHAT!?! It's three freakin' miles from our house!!!! Are you kidding me?!!!

Again, like the shoes, I knew if I forced the issue he'd prove he was correct in his incompetence. So to save our daughter from repeating Second grade, I tossed both kids in the car and managed to get them both to their schools on time.

Seriously, I just wonder what little gem of shit will get thrown my way tomorrow. I'm the super hero of others' craptastic blunders!

Here's a video that I'll be playing for Joe while ordering a load of concrete is creepy... hey. it's Halloween.

Plus I love me some Art Alexakis!

Mind Blogging

Boy, have you missed some hilarious blog posts lately… Freakin' funny, I tell ya! Real knee-slappers... unfortunately they’re all in my head. Yup, I’ve been blogging like wildfire but thus far have failed to actually put words to keyboard. I need to see about having that USB port installed in my head. And of course now that I sit here, with literally minutes of free time, I got nadda.

I suck.

But that's not going to stop me.

So let me distract you from the fact that I got nothing in the way of funny by delivering you a quick summary of ma vie en dullsville.

After seven years of being exclusive with the old Dell-dinosaur, I’ve finally started seeing a new laptop. It’s not serious yet. We've decided to keep it casual and see where it goes. Of course, I keep finding myself seeking comfort with my old slow, dilapidated laptop. You know I hate change. Plus all my friends are in here…. And lots and lots of pictures that I don’t yet feel comfortable sharing with the new guy. Least he gets the wrong idea about me.

In other news, remember that post saying “Its’s not swine flu”… I guess I lied. Last week sucked. ‘Nuff that.

In keeping with all things craptastic, it appears that I missed the boat on making Taz a movie star. Disney is filming a new movie, Secretariat, and they had a casting call for horses who could pass as the famous race horse. Well, our Taz just happens to be Secretariat’s Grandson and a spitting image of him to boot.

Taz or Secratariat? (hint: That's not me)

Not only does Taz have just the right look (right down to that funny kite marking on his head), but he knows his way around a race track (left turn, then a left, another left… har har!) and he’s quiet enough that anyone could ride him. Unfortunately, the cut off to submit headshots was September 7. Boo! So no hanging with Diane Lane, John Malkovich, or Kevin Connolly for Taz.

The real Taz

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday

Fun with Grammie and Bumpa - Panning for gold

Enjoying a picnic while Letterboxing


Today the horses were visited by the dentist. They were drugged heavily and awoke with clean pearly whites... but of course not before I snapped a few pictures and laughed mercilessly.

SMILE!

That's all I got. Have a great day.

Baby Jessica of the Sky!

As I suspected, Hitler didn't take this whole Balloon Boy hoax very well...


OK, OK, I couldn't decide which one I liked better.

It's Not the Swine Flu (This Time)

This is my third post of the month. Woo-hoo! I'm on fire!

Hey, I tried posting a picture every day last month... I'm worn out. Give me a break!

But despite my lack of blogging, I have been busy.

Through the magical and mystical powers of Facebook, I caught up with a friend I haven't seen in 20 years! Heather and I showed our horses together, went to camp (with our horses) together and all around just had a ton of fun.
Heather and I had horses that tried to kill us were both crazy speed demons that didn't know the word "whoa". But that didn't stop us from risking certain death trying our best in the show ring even though we were always tied for last place. Oh and our horses LOVED each other. Ralph was the only horse Lady didn't make her mission to kill.
Then Heather called me one day and told me her parents had sold Ralph. I couldn't imagine how devastating that must have felt. And shortly after, I lost contact with her.

Flash forward 20 years... We e-mailed back and forth and I invited Heather out to the farm for a ride. So on Friday she came over, we saddled up and hit the trails. We had a great talk, laughed about our crazy antics as kids and caught up on the last twenty years. It was just one of those moments that make me grateful for life, grateful for friends and grateful to fabulous memories.


And speaking of great friends, I had plans for some Indian Food and a little shopping with our very own Bevers Friday night. But by 3pm the sore throat I had been trying to ignore, escalated into full body chills and a throbbing headache. I called Bev while shivering under my down comforter while wearing my winter jacket to regretfully bail out on our evening of fun. Damn germs!

Rewind a few days earlier: I've been horse trailer shopping for at least two months and haven't found exactly what I'm looking for. I had made a list of possible trailers and Joe and I even traveled last weekend to look at my #1 pick thus far. It was a 1997 Hawk 3 Horse for $9000. I had tried to negotiate for a lower price but she wasn't budging. So we looked at the trailer. It was OK... just OK.
So the other night I decided to look on eBay and voila! found my dream trailer! 2008 3 horse Hawk with a Buy It Now for $9990. This trailer retails at $17,000 so I bumbled around trying to remember my damn eBay password and after 20 freakin' tries, finally logged on and hit the BUY IT NOW button. Woot!

So Friday night, as I lay in bed pondering the possibility of having Swinethrax, the guy selling the trailer calls and said he can meet us in NY at 10:30 AM the next morning. Ugh. I agreed anyway. And went to bed..... and laid there wide awake, feeling like death. Luckily I didn't have to lay there too long since I had to pack up the family and hit the road before sunrise. Double ugh.

I was pretty impressed when we made the 4 hour trek and pulled into the specified meeting place at the same time as that shiny new trailer. He had driven the trailer 2 hours East for us... THANK GAWD!

So now my horses have a new ride...


Twelve hours, an entire box of tissues, and copious amounts of cold meds after we left home, we finally arrived back. I parked the trailer, fed the horses and crawled into bed... and slept for 12 hours! Ahhhhh sweet sleep of the dead!

Today I woke up feeling MUCH better. Swineflu averted!