Story time, part 1 : My most embarrassing moment as a teenager

I have a million stories floating around in my head. Stories about me, friends, family and even strangers. It would be a travesty to not share these stories with the masses (aka all 4 of you). Here's part 1 in a series of stories that aren't related at all, except that they are in my brain.

*Disclaimer : My memory SUCKS BALLS. I am fully aware of this and sometimes, ok very often, details get skewed in my brain. If you know this story and it's obvious I changed up the details please don't be an ass and point it out. Let me live in my bubble. (Unless you are my Mom, in which case, Mom? You can totally point out my mistakes. Because I love you so.)

My most embarrassing moment as a teenager

When I was a young teenager, around 14 and 15, my best friend's mom worked at a local mall close by. When she went to work Marie* and I trolled the mall for hours. We never actually did shop for anything, considering we had maybe a few dollars between us. We did, however, meet many boys at the mall and even took a few home and I may even have one particular boy's birth certificate, still in my possession (I'll save those stories for later).

One particular day, that resembled many of the same days we shared in the mall, was quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of my short teenage days.

Marie and I had spotted some cute boys and they had obviously spotted us back. Marie and I walked between the kiosk's because we didn't want to be obvious about following them. I'm sure they heard us giggling and talking about them, but that was beside the point. We had to maintain a certain distance in order to talk about how cute their butts were and how much one of them resembled Scott Baio, hair and all. (Aside here: did anyone else watch Charles in Charge?)

Halfway through the mall the boys suddenly turned and started walking our way. Since we had yet to acquire the cool, calmed demeanour of actual adults, we did the only natural thing we knew to do. We turned and ran.

Oh yes, we sure did. We ran away from Scott Baio and the cute butts. We decided that staying in the actual mall was too risky. I mean, we didn't want to MEET these boys, did we? We just wanted to stare at their gorgeousness and with them coming our way, they were foiling our master plan. Marie saw the closest department store that we could duck into, until the coast was clear. The department store was accessed by a ramp or a set of 10 or so stairs. The ramps were on either side of the stairs so it was only logical, based on our present location, to run up the stairs as fast as humanly possible.

And here's where it gets ugly.

Marie raced up the stairs and into the department store, giggling all the way. I was right on her heals making my way up the stairs when all the sudden all I saw was gleaming white marble. In my face. I watched my black purse go flying across the extremely slippery marble and Marie's feet disappear into the shoe department. I lay splayed on the ground for what felt like an eternity until this sweet older lady came to help me, with my purse in her hands.

As I digested the enormity of the situation I quickly jumped up snatched my purse from the lady, choked out a hurried "Thank you!" and ran into the department store. I was so mortified that I didn't even look back or stop running until I had passed the shoe department and made it to the juniors department with the loud music playing that I hoped was drowning out my heart beating in my chest. .

Marie and I giggled for what felt like an eternity. We kept an eye out for the boys for over an hour and I refused to go back into the main part of the mall. What if someone remembered that I was THAT girl. THAT girl who face planted on the pretty marble?

I never did go back into that main part of the mall that day and I often wish I could go back and properly thank the lady who came to help me. Even now when I see those stairs my cheeks feel warm and my palms get sweaty. But I don't have to worry about tripping on the stairs again because now I take the ramp.


*Not her real first name to protect her privacy. Although she hates me now, so what do I care? Obviously I care a little, I suppose.


I'll be mindful of the Snickers.

Dear body,

Hi! How are you? Feeling better lately, I hope?

You may have noticed a few changes in the last few months and I hope you find them quite agreeable. I'm sure you have noticed that I've, for the most part, stopped stuffing you full of junk food and fried foods since October, right? I know you can tell because you released some of the fat that's been hanging on for dear life. Mostly in the ass area and let's not forget the tummy area, arm area, thigh area, eyelid area and little toe area, also. Body, you were hanging on to fat in some weird places. I know it's hard to let go, but please, just say goodbye and release it all. I give you permission.

I would venture to guess that your sweat glands have noticed an excess amount of leakage, right? It's from the working out. On a regular basis! Can you believe it? Me neither. I appreciate that you don't make me look like a total fool and have the capability to lift more than the bare minimum on the weight machines. I know I make you wake up sore some mornings, but you know it's for the best, right?

Also, have you missed anything? Did you notice I cut out all meat and fish? It's been 39 days that you've gone without anything that formerly had a face. Do you miss it? No? I didn't think so. Did you know that just by cutting out meat that I potentially saved you from some cancers and other health problems? I had no idea, either!

Oh body, how I've abused you and taken you for granted for so many years. It's sad, really. I only get one of you and already I'm ashamed at the ways I've treated you. It's true what they say, we treat those closest to us the worst and I'm no exception.

I promise, from here on out, to take better care of you. To be aware of what I'm putting you through. To make an effort to remember that you care for me and I should do the same. To remember that I only get one of you. To be mindful that you are made to move and not just to sit on a couch all day.

I promise to continue to eat well and exercise on a regular basis and treat you like the temple you are. I only get one chance so I better do it right from now on.

Also, body? Please ignore when I occasionally happen across a large bag of party size Snickers. The small size confuses me and I forget that 14 party size Snickers are, even though tiny in size, the equivalent of a whole Snickers.




All it takes is a little perseverance, right?

While at BlogHer I met a lovely, gorgeous lady named Jenny. Because my memory is that of a walnut, I cannot remember if I met her during the 'speed dating' portion of the conference or if she just sat down next to me at some random time. Either way, she's another of my new blog crushes. (Is it weird to admit who your blog crushes are? I'm not above it. Nope.)

Jenny recently wrote a post that I was going to write about, also. Not the part about training for an "Olympic distance triathlon" because you all know I am not that motivated. At least not yet. First I need to get in the habit of working out on a regular basis (so far so good!) and then I'll look into some type of marathon or triathlon.

No, the part I was going to talk about was the 2 stretchers part.

Jenny was telling me about an Olympic hopeful (contender?) who had a paid staff of people that help her train.

...a head coach, a sprint coach, a strength coach, two stretchers, two masseuses, a chiropractor and a nanny, at the cost of at least $100,000 per year.

Are you freaking kidding me? Maybe I'm naive, which has been proven to be the case many time in my 30+ years, but seriously, she has a fleet of people? Just to help her train?

I am just blown away that all this time I thought Olympic hopefuls and contenders were just really hard workers with a drive and passion and the ability to stretch themselves. Sure they might take in an hour long massage here and there to de-stress and relax. And they might drop their kids off at a local Kinder Care. Hell, they might even have a standing appointment with a chiropractor to get adjusted when needed. Now I find out that you have to already be a millionaire to support a staff of almost 10 people to make it to Olympics?

My impression of the Olympics was that every person who made it there was chock full of self motivation and a better work ethic than I am. I'm sure that really is the case. I'm sure that almost everyone who's ever made it to the Olympics has worked their ass off, cried a lot, bleed a lot and generally killed themselves to attain their ultimate dream.

But isn't hiring a staff of people to help you along the way a little much? What about the people that have the same goal but can't afford to hire a stretcher? Aren't they at an immediate disadvantage because they don't have that strength coach at their side?

I guess I'm a little taken back by this whole thing. I've always had a certain picture in my head of how an Olympic participant must be and how much individual work it must take and now I find out that it takes a village to help someone run better or swim better or whatever event it is in question.

I feel sort of like I did the first time I saw one of my teacher's smoke a cigarette. Shock, awe and disbelief all rolled into one.

Did you guys know about this? What are your thoughts?


Parenting is tough sometimes.

My oldest child, Derick, is 13 years old. In true teenager fashion he’s ready to make choices I’m not ready for him to make. Namely, to live with me or his dad.

Honestly I don’t have any issues with Derick moving in with his dad. I think Derick needs a constant male role model considering he’s never really had that. Derick needs to bond with his 3 younger brothers. He needs to have this time to help him on his journey to becoming that person he will be forever. I would never want to hold him back from any of these things.

Except that his dad is 9 hours away.

Derick is currently at his dad’s for the summer as he’s been doing for the past few years. He hops on a plane or his dad comes to get him within a few days of school letting out and he stays there until a few days before school starts again. I miss entire summers with the kid. And it sucks.
My ex husband says that he and his family are moving to the Dallas/Fort Worth area, about 20 minutes from me, in September. And he says that he and Derick talked and that Derick is just going to stay with them, start school, move to my neck of the woods, and continue to live with his dad. This all sounds fine and dandy except that I know my ex husband and this will be around the 734Th time he’s said he was going to move here and then didn’t. He is notorious for telling people what they want to hear just to please them and doing whatever he wants. It’s completely infuriating.

Derick and I talked on the phone earlier this afternoon and he wanted to talk to me about him staying there and I just couldn't talk right then about it. I can’t handle any more stress and I know that my impending conversation with Derick will only add to everything. He’s supposed to call me back very soon and I’m a nervous wreck to talk to him. My tummy is doing flips and I expect even more when I talk to him.

I’m ready for him to come home, I miss my video game playing, leaves dishes on the kitchen counter, hogs the tv, teenager. I’m afraid that Jackson won’t remember him if he continues to be gone for so long. What if they don’t move back here soon? What if Derick never lives with me again?

Surely I’m being irrational and over freaked out, but it’s a real possibility. Hell, I haven’t even had a chance to do anything for Derick’s 13Th birthday that was almost a month ago. He’s been a teenager for a month and I haven’t even seen him. He could have sprouted a mustache (that he swore he had a year ago) or grew 9 more inches. I have no idea.

Do I sound desperate enough? I guess that’s what happens when you have kiddos. You act all bat shit crazy out of love and concern.

Whatever the outcome is I hope that I make the right choice for everyone. Especially my 13 year old.


Is everyone tired of BlogHer recaps?

Let me preface this post by saying that I am so exhausted. So exhausted that when I saw a lady snuggling on the ground with her pillow at the airport last night I was tempted to join her in the sleep fest.

I didn't get a chance to sleep on the plane because I spent the entire flight listening (read: eaves dropping) to a man in his late 60's talk to my seat mate who was in her early 20's. Normally I'd tune out people talking on an airplane. But I just knew that something was different with this conversation when the gentleman retrieved his glossy laminated flow charts to show the projected income for his 'venture capital project'. I swear, when the number $600 million escaped his lips I visibly saw the young woman's chest rise closer to the mans face and she flashed her pearly whites and maybe even batted her eyelashes. It was creepier to watch them exchange personal information because she gave the guy her home address.

I'll keep you posted on any impending news stories, it's only a matter of time, I'm sure.

Ok, back to BlogHer. A.W.E.S.O.M.E. Seriously, in a nut shell it was lovely. There were some tense moments and some awkward moments and some feeling left out moments, but I think everyone went through a whole string of emotions but we all ended up with positive experiences and made new friends and generally had a blast.

My roomates were the best. I couldn't have handpicked a better group of women to share this experience with. I owe most of the success on this trip to them. Thank you girls, you are all so special to me.

From left me, Katie, Jess and Jennie.
I met some amazing women that I am honored to have spent time with. I think everyone was exactly as a I pictured them in my head and some were even better than I expected.
I learned so many things on this trip. About blogging, about people, about a new city and mostly about myself. Surely it sounds cheesy but I think I am changed forever in a positive way. Someday I'll share what's changed. But for now, I'll share a few pictures in no particular order. (See a few others on my Flickr page.)

Emily Pie. Go look at her photos...they are just amazing. She has a pretty hot red nose, too.
Me and Jennie.
Jess and Jennie.
Jess and I have tattoos in the same place.
Thank God for wireless Internet. (Emily and Jennie.)
Oh how I love thee, Lush.
If Texas trees saw this tree they would feel so so so inadequate.
Me and the lovely Kristen.
Jess, me and Jennie.
An attempt at an artsy fartsy photo on a crappy camera.
Sarah and me. Such posers. Sarah is totally one of my new blog crushes.
One of my favorite things in the world. Trees coming together and meeting over a street.
Muppet love!
Oh to live by a beach. *sigh*


A little over 24 hours in...

There are times in my life that I really wish I had a photographic memory so I could recall every sentence uttered and every scenario that played out. I wish I could describe in great detail what I've seen so far in San Francisco.
I wish I could tell you what the vast amount of homeless men looked like when I got off the public transportation system in the downtown area.
I wish I could tell you exactly what words were said by the 2 men that were in cardboard boxes on the side walk as I walked by.
I wish I could tell you how beautiful the snow capped mountains were that I saw when I flew over them.
I wish I could detail exactly how proud I am of myself that I got up at 6 am to pay $12 to workout in the hotel gym.
I wish I could let everyone know how awkward I feel when I say I'm a vegetarian even though it's only been 29 days.
I wish I could explain why the word octopus makes me want to giggle like a little girl.
I wish I could let you smell the wonderful bath and beauty products that I got at Lush and how proud i am that i only spent $32.
Lastly, I wish I could explain how much fun I'm having and how happy I am that i choose to come here barely knowing anyone.
Top four photos by Emily Pie. http://www.emilypie.com/
Bottom four photos by Ashley. http://ashleyforrette.blogspot.com/


Ok, one last one before I head out the door.

I leave for the airport in 3 hours which means I have just enough time to pack a few more pairs of shoes.

I fully intended on saving the $30 total it was going to cost me to check my bag but then I realized around midnight last night that 6 pairs of shoes was absolutely essential to my cast of wardrobe changes.

And it was necessary to bring extra jewelry so I can help some of my accessory challenged bloggy friends get all dolled up.

And of course I couldn't pack just one sweater, I have to bring 3 because one goes with each outfit.

And I found a dress yesterday that I can wear to one of the parties that I think is so cute. Which meant I needed more coordinating jewelry and shoes. It's a never ending cycle.

Simplified packing be damned! (Sorry Mom, I'm sure you had hoped for better, but let's face it, I'm a chronic over packer.)

Now, let's just send American Airlines some 'please be on time today' vibes and I'll be a happy girl.


Oh, and also! Thank you to lovely lady, Jamie, who left a comment yesterday about Frederic Fekkai's travel products. I had no idea! I sure hope there's a Sephora on Union Square so I can load up. Jamie, please tell your bosses that you deserve a raise. Or a cute pair of shoes at the very least.


I suck at a lot of things, but I suck the most at packing.

FYI, if you are interested, I'm feeling A LOT better. Thank you shot in my ass! I have my voice back and my throat isn't on fire. This morning I was running on 50%, this afternoon I was around 30%, now I'm at 80%. I should be 100% by Thursday. Yippee!

So, back to packing. I suck at it. Did I tell you that? Well, I do suck. At packing, that is. I have to make a list otherwise I end up leaving tons of stuff at home but manage to bring 2 and 3 of the same things. So, I made a partial list that I add to when I think about it. I've been carrying around this list all evening.

My handwriting sucks, I'm aware. There are some really important things on this list. Let me point them out for you. Far left corner, second from the bottom. Glossing Cream. Frederic Fekkai Glossing Cream to be exact. Sadly, Mr. Fekkai didn't realize that I'd be carrying on a bag and his product weight exceeds what I can bring on, so I've taken a small amount and moved it into a small empty container perfect for travel. I cannot live without this stuff.

Second column, last item. Workout clothes. I've been really awesome at working out every other day without fail. My plan is to keep it up. I may actually miss Thursday, but I fully intend on working out while I'm gone. If you see me please ask me if I've worked out and if I say no, then kick me and tell me to get with it.

Far right, second to last item. Chi. That would be my Chi flat iron. The lord knows that I have been lost until I found this amazing hair tool. I would be forced to buy a new one if I forgot it. You people don't want to see my wavy, frizzy hair. Chi + Glossing Cream = hair heaven.

Other pretty important things include a business card holder for Jess. In my bag and ready to rock! Also, a business card holder for Kristen. This is not in my bag yet, but it will be procured by tomorrow. And of course a laptop. I don't actually own a laptop so I borrowed my brother's laptop (thank you Pattymelt!!). Little does he know that I fully intend to change his computer log on password to Thistletwat. I'm a great big sister. I'm torn on the whole laptop thing, I've never traveled with one and it seems like such a pain in the ass. Don't you have to open it up and turn it on for security check? Also, what if I barely use it? It'll be like lugging a large paperweight for no reason.

Now on to my suitcase where I'm storing all these lovely things. Um, yea, it's almost full. Guess what I have in it. One complete outfit, pj's, unmentionables, a pair of shoes and some of my toiletries. GAH x 1,000. I still have to squeeze in 2 more outfits, another pair of shoes and jewelry. I don't travel light when it comes to jewelry so this is a problem.

I will be carrying on a backpack (so stylish, I know) that will house the laptop, my actual purse, travel itinerary and random papers and a magazine or two and maybe a book. So I have some room.

I don't like this charging to a checked bag one bit. Don't these people know that I NEED to pack at least 2 more pairs of shoes and at least 2 extra outfits? Sheesh.

This will likely be my last post until I get all settled in San Fransisco. I wish you all could be there and I know it sucks for some of you that aren't coming. Next year, perhaps?


Ah hell no

This morning I woke up with a fiery throat and absolutely no voice. All that came out was a squeak.

I felt generally ok, just run down. I went to the gym and worked out and then made my way to my doctor's office.

Viral Laryngitis. Damn.

I now have strong steroids running through my veins thanks to a shot in my ass. Doc promises I'll be better by Thursday.

She better be right or I'll be pissed.

Please, send your 'get better' vibes. I need as many as I can get.


I'm thinking of changing my blog name to Thistletwat*

So, Saturday was the BEST! DAY! EVER! I quit being so whiny about not knowing anyone and I met a bunch of random strangers I had never met and went kayaking. Let me repeat, I met a bunch of STRANGERS that I had never met before. EVER! And it was a total blast.

Some dude that runs this particular kayaking group loaned me a kayak to use, another guy loaned me a life jacket (that was too big, but beggars can't be choosers) and a lady let me borrow her paddle because it was a lighter version of the one the first dude let me borrow.

A group of about 12 of us teetered about on a lake that I realized was only 15 minutes from my house. Who knew I had (almost) water front property. Maybe that explains why my taxes are ass high.

I had so much fun watching the wildlife and floating and rocking back and forth and getting a slight tan. I busted out the kids SPF 50 and rocked it the whole time because even though I am part Italian AND Indian (which I just discovered recently) I burn to a crisp even when the sun is on the other side of the world.

Total blast. I am so proud that I got off my hiney and ventured into the real world with real people. Go me!

Oh, and also, Sunday was pretty kick ass, too. I, along with my momma, threw a baby shower for my Sister-In-Law (Hi SIL!). Was lots of fun and who doesn't love looking at tiny pink (I'm getting a niece!!!) pants and cute little onesies with butterflies? I know I do.

After the shower and some last minute BlogHer shopping (Hello new jacket...see it? Over there on the right?) the fam, including my grandma who's in town, loaded up in the cars and drove to the Bass Performance Hall to see Avenue Q. FUCKING HILARIOUS. Have you seen it? You have? It was awesome, yes? Oh wait, you over there haven't seen it? You simply MUST. It's so great that I am reduced to using caps lock because I want you to go see it. NOW.

And lastly, I'm pissed at my throat. It hurts and I don't know why. If I get sick I will be so so so angry. Internet, please share with me your best home remedies for getting rid of a scratchy throat.


*I'm not really going to change my blog name. I just really wanted to use the word Thistletwat in my blog title. It's a character from Avenue Q. And I'm not kidding, go see it, you will not be sorry. Unless you are a little bit racist.


I know, I'm stealing this from many other bloggers.

Jennie and Katie and Jess (my BlogHer roomies!!!) all wrote similar posts about what to expect when you meet them at BlogHer. Since I like to steal ideas, this is a perfect opportunity.

Here's a little list of what to expect when you meet me.

1. I say the stupidest stuff sometimes when I'm nervous and I don't do well with silence. So I talk and talk and talk and sometimes won't shut the hell up. Feel free to place your (clean!) hand over my mouth or kick me. I promise not to kick back. At least not too hard.

2. Did you read Jennie's post that talks about how she and I know each other? I am referring to #6 on her list. Yes, I'm her husband's ex girlfriend. And I totally claim Jennie as my own. If you care to know more you can read this entry.

3. I start out the day caring about my appearance. Lip gloss on, hair perfectly coiffed, cute shoes that match my outfit. By the end of the day I'm usually attempting to pull my short hair back, grabbing the closest tube of chap stick, putting flip flops on and wearing pj's. I may even run around the hotel in my pj's at night. You are warned.

4. I'm short. Like 5'4" short. It sucks.

5. I have tiny wrists and ankles. This is the only tiny thing about me.

6. Much like Katie, I love to dance. I think I dance pretty good, but chances are I really suck. And if I do suck, please don't tell me. Let me live in my bubble.

7. I don't drink much at all. If you see me with a glass of wine or champagne or a beer and then see me again in an hour, it's probably the same beverage you saw the first time around. Sure I have my notorious drunk stories (there's a cab driver in Austin that HATES me), but I'm over drinking for the most part.

8. I'm almost all the way through my 30 days of being a vegetarian and I think I will keep it up for good. I've done research and have decided that, for me, meat is just not that important to me and my health. So don't be surprised when I pass up bacon and hamburgers for a salad or veggies.

9. I really like jewelry and accessories. It's an obsession. If I blind you with dinner plate sized earrings or a lime green purse consider this your apology. If you want to compliment my pretties, please do. We can chat about jewelry and shoes and bags. I may even have an extra drink ticket or two to give you if you are particularly generous with the compliments.

10. I love to shop. I'm extremely excited to go to H&M. Chances are I'll be the girl that is dragging around a ton of stuff that won't fit in my suitcase and I'll be mailing stuff to myself to not exceed the baggage weight limit.

11. And lastly...I'm not a shy person by any stretch of the imagination. But sometimes I clam up if people are in a group talking and I barely know anyone which I'm sure is likely to happen. I'll open up I promise, once I feel like I have something meaningful to contribute.


I'm super excited to meet some bloggers I've been reading for a while. If I run up to you and start talking really fast and act all giddy, just smile and nod. I'll leave you alone eventually. I think we all have our blog crushes. I'm no exception.

Also, I have a burning question. I think check out on Sunday is noon or something like that. But my flight's not till around 7pm. What the hell am I supposed to do with my baggage while I finish exploring the city? I don't want to tote around my suitcase for hours. HALP!


I come up with most random stuff sometimes.

I thought it would be hilarious to take pictures of myself showing different emotions and posting them here. Why? So the BlogHer people will see me and be like Oh, it's that girl. See? Won't that be fun? I thought so.
You may or may not see this face. This is my 'I'm too drunk to even open my eyes' look. I don't drink much but I may start just to see if I can make this face again.

Do I look sad? That's supposed to be the look. Holy hell, do I have UNDER EYE BAGS? Moving on before I really do get sad.

I don't embarrass easily, but I imagine I'll look similar to this. See that ring on my thumb? It's been on my finger since 12/2005 almost continuously. Random fact.

Ah, this is my 'I've got my eye on you' look. Cute men will see this look.

Contemplative. Either that or I'm just really confused and am trying to look like I know what's going on.

Crazy happy!

Bored outta my skull. Hopefully this look will stay far far away.

Surprise! I'm mostly surprised at the wrinkles on my forehead. Gah!

I'm a little confused and think you are full of shit. This face is usually reserved for my ex husband.



So, there you have it. The many faces of me. Oh, and I'm really a pasty white color in real life. I used Picasa with wreckless abandon to fool you into thinking I'm all tan and even skin toned.


I need a favor from you, Internet

Hello Internet! I need a favor, please.

My pretty new Mp3 player arrived recently and it's desperate for new music to be added to it.

The main use for this new gadget is for music to workout to so I need suggestions for some fast, fun, get-your-blood-pumping music.

All you lurkers out there...here's your chance. Don't let me or my ass that needs to get into shape down. :)


Is she a mean dog?

My mom called me today and read a story to me that she found in the newspaper about Michael Vick. You know, the guy who got caught using Pit Bulls to fight each other? That dude. I like to refer to him as that asshat who needs a real hobby.

Moving on.
The story talks about the Pit Bulls that were still living that Michael Vick didn't get a chance to pulverize. And that story made my heart sing. I know that this story will get no where near the news coverage that I think it should get, so I'm here to pass it along to whoever will listen.

Go to the link above and see the picture. It shows Leo, a certified therapy dog, with a cancer patient. This dog was doomed for certain death if left in the hands of Michael Vick. Leo is a Pit Bull. Does Leo look dangerous? Of course not, if he was he certainly wouldn't be a therapy dog surrounded by people.

Excerpt from the article linked above:

More than a year after being confiscated from Vick’s property, Leo visits cancer patients as a certified therapy dog in California. Hector is about to start training for national flying disc competitions in Minnesota. Teddles takes orders from a 2-year-old. Gracie is a couch potato in Richmond, Va., who lives with cats and sleeps with four other dogs.
As a Pit Bull owner I am so so happy that someone took the time to write this article and show that Pit Bulls are not vicious, people eating animals.

One of my clients, who knows I have 2 children, asked me if my Pit Bull, Emma, was a mean dog. I couldn't help but laugh at the question. I told her of course Emma wasn't a mean dog. If she was did she really think I'd keep her around my two kids? Come on, seriously?

Emma lets Jackson walk all over her and smack her in the face. When she gets tired of it she get up and moves away. Emma thinks she's people and attempts to sleep next to me with her head on the pillow. Emma attempts to groom my cats. Emma slept with a Pomeranian that I used to have. (Side note: I had to find a home for my Pom because she bit kids. Ironic, I know.)

It just goes to show that Pit Bulls are misunderstood and it's a damn shame.

She might beat you with her excited tail on the shins. Or lick you to death. Or maybe even knock you over in her excitement. As for being mean? Not a chance in hell.


Sensibility be damned

So I keep reading that I should be smart and sensible and bring comfy shoes to BlogHer. There will be walking. And attempting to walk after the FREE drinks. And the shopping that is within walking distance. Walking, walking, walking. I get it. I need comfy shoes.

Puhshaw. That is my mature reply.

I have my own plan. As ghetto as it sounds I'm wearing adorable shoes that are probably not comfortable in the slightest and am going to tote around a cheap pair of Old Navy flip flops in my bag. Take that, comfy shoes.

In light of my recent shoe plan I decided that maybe I should get some non comfy shoes to accompany me on my impending trip. Even if they don't make the suitcase cut I'll have some new shoes. And THAT always make me happy.

Everyone needs mettalic wedges, no? I'm short so I need all the help I can possibly get.

These are actually pretty comfortable looking. But I let them into the cool shoe crowd because I just think they are totally cute.

Another pair of wedges. I figure I should stick to wedges because they are more likely to hold me up as opposed to stilettos.

Oh. My. God. I know these shoes aren't for everyone. Maybe only 2 or 3 people will think these are hot and I'm one of them. I fully intend on building an entire outfit around these shoes.


My bad

So I called this company to get a referral phone number for a subscription I need to cancel. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hi, I need the number to cancel a subscription.

Lady Who Answered The Phone: Sure, no problem. The number is (insert number here) and the company is A S S.

Me: The company is called ASS?!?! (Said with a tone of incredulity)

*cue crickets*

LWATP: Um, no. It's A S F.

Me: *fighting back fits of giggles* Oops, sorry. You must think I'm a total moron.

LWATP: Um, it's ok.

Me: *seriously trying to fight of the giggles* Thank you, BYE!

When I hung up I was dying laughing. If you are going to name your company you should consider making sure that people pronounce the 'F' correctly. Or maybe I just need my ears cleaned out.


I added a new thing to my blog. See? Over there on the right? It's a picture and short description of my newest purchases, large and small. I decided to give Eric back his Ipod and get my own Mp3 player. I'm so grown up.


A drop in the bucket

The other day I watched The Bucket List for the first time and I really loved it. (I love almost any movie with Morgan Freeman.) If you haven't seen the movie I'll give you the quick and dirty version without spoiling anything. Two men make a list of things they want to do before they kick the bucket. Quick and dirty, no?

So, of course, I got to thinking of my bucket list. What do I want to do or accomplish before I kick the bucket? I'm sure that if I would have made this list 10 years ago it would be a bit different, and I'm sure in 10 years from now it will be different than it is now. Regardless, here's my bucket list, in no particular order.

  • Since I did a report on Paris in 5th grade I've always wanted to go. I especially want to see the Eiffel Tower. Touristy, I know, but it's been something I've always wanted to do.
  • I'd like to make a positive impact on a total stranger. Something that they will remember and think enough of to want to pass it along to someone else.
  • Take a vacation all by myself. It doesn't have to be a long vacation or ever far away. Maybe a few days in a local spot. But I'd like to do it alone. I want to explore an area on my own terms and see what it's like to travel alone just once.
  • See a movie by myself.
  • Gather a group of friends and go on vacation together.
  • Learn to drive a motorcycle well enough to actually drive it on the roads with other cars.
  • Own my own motorcycle. I came so close to owning one a few years ago. I was all set to drive to pick it up and the deal fell through because dude sold it to someone else. I'm still bitter.
  • Find a hobby that I truly enjoy doing.
  • Take time to volunteer for some organization that I care deeply about.
  • Participate in some sort of marathon.
  • Meet the man of my dreams. The one that makes me heart flutter and makes me want to be a better person.
  • Buy a high quality REAL piece of jewelry, that I love, for myself.
  • Go to Disney Land or World with my kids for a few days.
  • Wear a bathing suit and not be self conscious. This is totally a mind over matter thing.
  • Plant a vegetable and/or fruit garden with my kids and teach them about gardening and eating what you produce.
  • Drive cross country with someone I love to travel with.
  • Finish college. Having a 2 year degree doesn't cut it.
  • Find a group of local friends that I can depend on and make part of my family. Don't get me wrong, I have friends, but very few are local and very few would I call in the middle of the night if I needed them.
  • Sky dive or hang glide, one of the two. Maybe both. Or some sort of experience that's similar.
  • See more of my own country.
  • Attempt to learn to water ski again. Many people have tried to teach me, all have failed.
  • Learn to not apologize or feel guilty for who I am.
  • Learn to be more accepting and non judgemental of others.

If you feel so inclined, please share your bucket list.