Resolutions

Now is the time of year to make resolutions that won't be kept. The last six years mine has been to lose weight and exercise. That usually lasts a day at the most. This year I decided to eat healthy. I felt that was an original and unique resolution. But nooo what do I see on the Today show? An anorexic woman talking about eating healthy for the new year. First of all she stole my resolution. Second of all she needs to eat something! Anything! She looks like the animation in a Tim Burton movie. Her head is a skull with the skin still intact. Kinda of like one of those bodies found in a mummy tomb. She had all this stringy neck skin that dangled when she talked. I didn't hear any of her spill on healthy eating. I was too fascinated watching her neck dangle. Now I am straddling the fence about my resolution. Do I want to eat healthy and have people watch my neck dangle? Or do I want to keep my wrinkles plumped with fat? Remember there are lots of songs singing tribute to the junk in the trunk. I am going to see Sherlock Holmes tonight. A tub of buttered popcorn and a candy bar is sounding mighty good. Think how much that will keep my neck dangle in check.

MMooooooooooo!

Yesterday we drove to Greenville, S.C. to go to church and lunch with my family. On the way back we passed a car with a license plate that said "MMooooooooo". I thought that was interesting.Having lived in Wisconsin, I thought the car was from the dairy state. However the license plate was a North Carolina one. That eliminated California as a possibility too. As we drove behind this car I imagined other reasons for the license plate. A dairy farmer but this was not a truck but an Accord. Maybe someone with lots of kids who drink milk. But again the Accord could not hold many kids. By now we are side by side with the Accord. I look over. Just a lone woman driver eating some large sandwich. The woman is beyond huge. I now wonder how she gets in and out of the car. I am still wondering about the "MMoooooo" license plate. Surely she didn't pay money to identify to the world she is a cow. I guess I will never solve this mystery.

Tiger Woods

I am pretty sick of the media carrying on about Tiger's car accident. I mean it happened at 2:35 am on Black Friday. The man was leaving to hit Wal-Mart, Best Buy , and the mall just like everybody else.

Black Friday

Black Friday was a shocker for me. I actually went to the mall with my husband and two sons. The reason for the visit was my sons wanted to clothes shop! The crowds weren't bad and we got free valet parking because my husband drives a Lexus. While in Macy's shopping for the second son, the first son came by to deliver a silent but deadly bomb. I didn't know until the second son commented and then the odor hit. We quickly decided we didn't like the clothes in that area and left. I saw the first son in a far away aisle smiling. Once we regrouped we discussed finding the husband/father. I had just finished a large diet coke and felt a burb. I gave my boys my best manly burb. I felt it was weak but they moved to another area. I followed. I started telling the first son how disgusting it was for him to unload his bomb on us. He interrupted to tell me there were no filters in my life. I did not know what to say in polite society like talking about sex changes. Which I have most certainly not been talking about recently. By now we all realize that the father/husband is still missing. The first son goes barreling off to find him. After he leaves, the second son says " If you didn't drink soft drinks you wouldn't be so gassy". Me gassy? All I did was burb. The second son said that was being gassy. The first son comes back to report no father/husband. After more trips around the men's department we headed to Nordstrom's. After all we said we were going there next. The whole way the first son argues about where the father/husband is. We arrive in the men's department at Nordstrom's to find the father/husband. He says he has been looking for us. I give both sons the look and head over to the women's shoes. We all got some good deals and came home happy and maybe closer. Who knows?

A Winter Wonder Land In Charlotte

Yes my friends, you heard it right. You may frolic in the snow in Charlotte. Also enjoy sledding,tubing,and snowboarding. This fun winter land event only costs $35.00 for two hours. Plus after the two hours are over you can walk to SouthPark mall and shop or do whatever people do at malls. Yes my friends the mall, because the winter wonder land is at Symphony Park, in the back corner of SouthPark. A group of local investors will spend 1.8 million dollars building SnowPark USA in early December. We are told it will be a very snowlike experience, not like tubing on ice cubes. This is a direct copy of Snow Mountain in Atlanta that was hugely popular. If Charlotte embraces this winter frolic, the investors intend to open two more in other Southeast cities. Now I don't want to call these investors idiots. I think the idiots started it in Atlanta. The investors did throw out that word "staycationers". You know the unemployed, or broke, or struggling. If they don't have $35.00 per child to participate then they can park and look at the stuff. Whats funny all the "staycationers" in the snowy climate would like to enjoy some warm sunny weather. Unfortunately even investors with more money than sense can't make a warm weather park.

This Day In History

In 1973 President Nixon told an Associated Press managing editors meeting in Orlando, Fla.: "People have got to know whether or not their president is a crook. Well, I am not a crook". What more can I add?

Two Commercials

After more than six weeks of nonstop television viewing I feel totally qualified to critique commercials. There are two right now that send me up the wall!!!!!! I told this to the husband who has not seen either of these commercials a thousand times. He had the nerve to say that I complain about everything. Also some mess about not liking anything. Well little does he know that if one of those commercials come on with him by my side he might become strangled!!!! Let us discuss these two commercials. The first is the Dodge Ram. Yes the pictures of Mohammad Ali and everybody else are nice. But how in the world are they related to a truck? And the man's voice is beyond irritating like he is reading poetry about a truck. Please I wasn't born yesterday. This commercial is not going to make me want a Dodge Ram. Instead I want to choke the voice that keeps saying "I am Ram". The next commercial is the Walmart one. You know the one that lasts as long as an infomercial. The one with the cutesy blonde that is selling small appliances. You know at the end of the commercial she goes home with a customer to help with her party. Please do you believe that? Have you ever seen an employee leave with a customer? Buy a vacuum cleaner and have an employee go home with you and vacuum your house.I don't think so. After viewing this particular commercial two billion times I knew Walmart had crockpots. The husband said we needed one. I said go to Walmart. He did and there were not any there. So why I am having to change the channel twenty times a day to avoid the Walmart crockpot/blender/ electric fry pan commercial? I feel so much better after sharing this.

Patsy, George, Tammy and Me

Yesterday was the end of my six weeks restrictions from my surgery. To celebrate I cranked up the music. All three dogs were dancing around me as Patsy and I belted out "Walking After Midnight". Using the television remote as a microphone I hit some high notes. Then George and I sang " He Stopped Loving Her Today". I put some real emotion in my voice for that song. Then Tammy and I sang our heart out with " Stand By Your Man". We were awesome. By then I noticed the dogs weren't dancing any more. Chip was hiding in the laundry basket. Zeus was by the back door. Shelley was pacing between them. I guess they just don't appreciate good country music. Did you know Tammy and George had one daughter. They named that child Tamala Georgette. That is so wrong on so many levels. She goes by Georgette. How in the poopy do you pronounce Tamala ?

A Man and a Horse

I read this article several days ago but it just stayed in my mind. A man has been sentenced to three years in prison for having sex with a horse. This happened in Conway, S.C. The judge ordered the man to stay away from the stables where the horse is and to get counseling. The owner of the horse caught the man having sex with her horse and held him at shotgun point until the police arrived. The owner knew the offender. He had sex with the same horse last year. He was placed on probation and registered as a sex offender. I have lots of questions about this. How tall is the man? How tall is the horse? Does the stables have step stools or ladders? Is the man in love with the horse? Does the horse love him? As a registered sex offender does this man list he loves horses? I guess these questions will go unanswered. I have reassured Shelley that I will be on alert anytime she is outside. Shelley is the size of a female Great Dane. The offender may have to go after large dogs after he is released. After all he is barred from the stables and his horse. I guess I am going have to get me a shotgun.

Old Shoes

This past Friday I celebrated twenty seven years of marriage. I was twenty six when I married so I have been married over half my life. I don't profess to be an expert on marriage. I compare marriage to a pair of leather shoes. The day you buy the shoes they are tight and confine your feet. Everyone says you need to break them in. So you try lots of things to soften the leather. Each day the shoes feel better on your feet. But there are days when the shoes give you blisters and pain. You feel like these shoes will never fit your feet right. But you keep wearing them for various reasons. Years pass. The heels of the shoes get run down. The leather is scuffed and scratched. You see prettier and newer shoes but you have had these shoes forever. So you just keep wearing the shoes because now they fit just right.

Being Frugal

I am getting a good laugh from all the tips on being frugal. With the economy in the dumps the papers, magazines, and television all have these tips. What I am laughing about is that I have always done that. Only have basic cable is a biggie. We have always had basic cable. Use coupons and purchase sale items. Back in the day I had a store coupon folder that I carried religiously to the grocery store. Staycations is a great new word. But we did staycations for years not knowing we were cool. I patched hand me down jeans for the children. I made their Halloween costumes. I washed and reused ziplock bags. I made baby wipes out of paper towels. I rented movies from the library for the children. Books were read from the library and still are. I baked bread, muffins, and cookies. I made jams. We picked strawberries,apples and peaches. I went to the farmer's market every Saturday morning. I saved everything paper wise for crafts including meat trays to use as paint trays. I even made play dough. My point is I thought everyone lived like that. For years I didn't realize that people had parents who bought appliances, cars and down payments on houses. We did everything ourselves. I just keep waiting for some eye opening frugal tip that I haven't heard. When I do I will blog about it so we all will be frugal.

Facebook

I joined Facebook about a month ago. I am still learning the ropes. I don't understand all the Farmville stuff. I can't post pictures because I still don't know how. But I have searched for people I am glad I found. I am happy to get back with people I don't get to see. One son won't friend me and the other only allows me to view certain things. That is fine. A mother is better off in the dark about most of her son's activities. The problem with Facebook is now I have to check my e -mail,check my facebook , check my raverly site, and post on my blog. After all that the day is half over. Then I have to take a nap, knit, watch television and go to bed. Then it starts all over again.

Blog of Note #2

I spoke to my son at Georgia Tech yesterday. He said if I wanted to be blog of note I had to quit blogging about my sex change surgery. That I have probably lost lots of my followers once they read I had a sex change surgery. I all so was informed by my son that I need to stop discussing my rectum, vagina or any thing located in those areas. From here on out I will refer to that area as the lower chassis. I did not have a sex change surgery, I had the lower chassis refurbished. Moving on, this Monday started off great. I woke to the sounds of Chip being sick and relieving himself from his lower chassis on my bedroom carpet. After cleaning that up and making too many trips upstairs, I am a hurting puppy. Some friends came over with lunch and a gift of yarn. That cheered me up. I just have to decide about Chip. How much longer can the dog live? He looks like death warmed over. He is bound and determined to stay alive until Zeus leaves. I feel bad for him right now but will be pissed again when I go to bed tonight in my bedroom.

Mike Sleasley

After all the bad mouthing I did over Mark Sanford, it isn't fair not to trash Mike Easley. Mike Easley is the former governor of North Carolina. Now granted a good sex scandal is so much more interesting,but dear old Mike has raised the bar in sleaziness. His campaign fund got him beach front property, home repairs, air transportation, his son a car,and his wife a job. Not bad considering the campaign money was to be used to get him elected. He did get elected but there must have been a big pot to get all that frosting on the cake. Now I like to relate as much as possible to sex. So I believe Mike Easley great love affair was power and special political favors. Like I said not as titillating as sex, but Mike committed criminal offenses. Sad to say the sexual dirty laundry of politicians gets aired all the time. Offenses like Mike Sleasley are all too common and boring so it gets swept under the carpet.

Baby Einstein Videos

The Baby Einstein company is giving refunds to all who purchased their videos. I believe the problem was false advertising. The premise was that if your infant watched Baby Einstein videos, he or she would be smarter. All parents hope for their own baby Einstein, so it was an easy sell. I admire the company for admitting their wrong. But how did they decide the babies weren't smarter? Did they have a lab with some babies watching baby Einstein and some not? How did they decide if the babies were not getting smarter? Were some babies just dumb to begin with? I am still studying about this. I gave some Baby Einstein videos as gifts. Am I entitled to refund? Baby Einstein videos were not around when my children were infants. They can say they are genetically dumb.

Heads Up

I saw my GI surgeon yesterday in Chapel Hill. He explained that I had a large, thin, pleated rectum. He had to repair it with a gathering stitch. So I am back home and very, very tired. Heads up to all that the King of Crowns is on tonight at 7:00,7:30, 9:00, and 9:30. The ones at 7:00 have titles like "Her Hair Weighed 200 Pounds". The two at 9:00 and 9:30 are the ones I watched last week. Tune in at TLC for an awesome time.

P.S. The Good Wife is the show for prime time.

The Pig

Yesterday I watched a show on the Animal Planet. The show involved a pot belly pig from the UK. She was a rescue pig. Rescued because she had ate herself blind literally.Evidently pigs will eat and eat. They do not know when to quit. This pig had eaten so much that fat folds covered her eyes and drug the ground, hampering her ability to see and walk. The new family placed her in her own pen on their farm. The pig wouldn't leave her pig house so the best pig doctor in the UK was called. He prescribed exercise and fruits and vegetables. The pig loved apples and pears but not exercise. I really bonded with the pig. I felt her fat. The family got a young girl pot belly pig. She was placed in the pen with the rescue pig. The rescue pig followed the young pig around even trying to run and play. The doctor said the rescue pig could not loose too much weight. That would cause loose skin over the eyes and drag the ground. If you refer back to the Flat Belly Cookbook post, I addressed that loose skin issue. Anyway the moral of this story - girls need their girlfriends.

King of Crowns

Channel surfing for two weeks has finally proved successful. I found the show of my dreams. Granted prior to finding this gem I encountered Hugh Hefner's show. His naked girlfriends were washing his car. The appropriate areas or should I say inappropriate areas were covered. There are two shows I didn't watch - Women Who Don't Know They Are Pregnant and Toddlers and Tiaras. I think I will skip both of those. The King of Crowns comes on TLC on Wednesday nights. This is a reality show based out of Columbia, South Carolina. The focus is on a shop called Crown and Glory. This shop prepares girls for pageants all over South Carolina. The head guy is in charge of all. I believe he is gay,not that that is relevant. His interview coach is also a gay man. A young, possibly heterosexual, male is the booking agent. There is a young female and I forget her duties. You see firsthand all the agony and hard work being in a pageant requires. You see the girls preparing their walk, their interview, and their outfits. You meet the families involved and all their expectations. You follow the girls to the final moment when the judges announce the winners. The excitement and buildup is incredible. I saw a Peanut Queen crowned in Pelion,South Carolina and Miss Columbia crowned in Pageland, South Carolina. This show combines drama, emotion, comedy, family, fashion, and charity. All the contestants want to save the world and cure cancer. That touches you on so many levels. Young women thinking of the world instead of their appearence. Last night's episode even featured a former Miss South Carolina inspiring her stepdaughter to follow in her footsteps. You saw inside the former queen's home and her huge oil painting of herself in her crown. You witnessed her stepdaughter trying on the gown the former queen wore when she won her title. A show doesn't get better than that. I haven't DVRed the show yet. I am too anxious for next Wednesday. I don't think I could wait for the recording.

Red Underwear

Back when I worked for a plastic surgeon, I had a patient who lived in Mexico City. He told us that a New Year's custom was to wear red underwear. Supposedly those who did received good luck and good sex for the next year. One of our co-worker's brought everyone red underwear after that. I don't know if I believe that New Year's tale or not. Although I have been eating collards and black-eyed peas every New Years without a significant change year to year. However since I received those red underwear I have made my own tradition. Anticipating a bad day - wear red underwear, need a pick me up - wear red underwear, gloomy weather - wear red underwear. You get the picture. My red underwear has been my red badge of courage so to speak. I wore red underwear yesterday because I was tired, bored, achy, and plain ole miserable. I woke up today still in the red underwear. I am tired, bored, achy, and plain ole miserable. Maybe I need to switch to hot pink underwear.

Nobel Prizes

I just wanted to remind everyone that there were a record number of women winning the Nobel Prizes. Enough said. My granddaughters and great-granddaughters will worry more about what's in their head than on their body. Let's Hear It For the Girls.

Daytime TV

I have been a prisoner of daytime television for over a week. This is what I have learned. You can get pregnant in a threesome. If you don't know who the baby daddy is, Maury can help you out. That the Beverly Hillbilly's is as funny now as it was 45 years ago. Too many Law and Order SVU's make you nauseous. If you have taken Reglan for GERD and are having neurological symptoms you are qualified for a cash settlement. Binder and Binder is the leading Social Security Disabilities law firm in the country. Call them today. ITT Tech is the place for you. Just don't read that fine print on the screen that says none of their classes transfer. Nobody seems to care that David Letterman slept with his staff except CNN.If you have a credit card and phone you can shop til you drop on QVC. Regis is annoying no matter who is his host. The View is a bitch fest. I am sorry but even Oxycodone can't make that show get better. They all want to talk all the time. You can watch a C - section , natural childbirth and Jon and Kate plus 8 on TLC. They might as well show root canals too. Kellie Pickler's new video is on at least every 2 hours on CMT. Miranda Lamberts' White Liar is on less but I like the video better. Miranda Lambert appeared on Ellen DeGeneres and sang White Liar. You don't have to take the birth control pill every day. You can use a ring for 3 weeks. The side effects are the same but who cares about the side effects as long as you don't end up on Maury looking for the baby daddy?

Jon and Kate

My bedroom is on the second floor. Since climbing stairs is required to get there I have been staying upstairs most of the time. We have a small television with basic cable in the bedroom. Prior to surgery my television viewing was to watch the programs I recorded during the day and no television at night. Now I channel surf all day. I knew Jon and Kate were all over People. I have complained and complained about that. Now they are on every channel!!!!!!!!!! Kate crying she can't pay bills. Jon saying his kids aren't going to be on television anymore. His kids need a normal life. Those kids will never have a normal life with their parents. Jon and Kate are psycho. TLC opened a can of worms when they put them on the air. But wait TLC has made millions on this so the crazier the better. I am just trying to recuperate and don't need them in my face. I can change the channel. I hadn't thought of that.

Hell is Here

I am home. The sex change was a bitch. Too much pain. I had excellent nurses and care. Just one nurse was burnt out and mean. I reported her ass right away. Now I am enjoying not lifting more than 2 pounds for 6 weeks and only going up and down stairs once or twice a day for 6 weeks. My daughter is here. I am glad she came. I just hate she used vacation time to take care of me. She should be on a tropical island with some hunk. I should be on a tropical island with some hunk. I am getting tired. I just need to make a clarification. In my Woodstock post numerous people interpreted that my husband and I were addicted to Viagra. I meant that in general terms to our age group. That our age group switched from the pot of our youth to Viagra. So to clear the air, we are not Viagra addicts. In fact my lower area is off limits to anything or anyone for 6 weeks. Even a truckload of Viagra and a naked George Clooney in my bedroom would not make me violate my doctor orders.

Under The Knife

This will be a short post that must last for awhile. Tomorrow I go under the knife for my sex change operation ie reconstruction of bowel and bladder. Today the husband and I leave for Chapel Hill. I start a bowel prep at 1:00 pm. I prefer to do that at a hotel as opposed to the husband's car. I am scared s---less over this surgery which is good since I need a clean colon by tomorrow. Just think now when I run, sneeze, laugh , or cry there will not be anything from either end coming out that should not come out. Need to run to get a hair cut before we leave. Maybe blue highlights just to cheer me up.

Hilary

If anyone has been watching the G-20 summit they have seen Hilary Clinton in the background. I have never been her fan but I hate to see her looking so exhausted. The bags under her eyes have bags under their eyes. On my flight to NYC last month my seatmate told me he had seen Hilary on several flights. He said she had gained weight and looked like hell. We both agreed living on a plane and dealing with world politics would do that to you. Obama was smart making her secretary of state. Hilary is too busy to make trouble for him. And by the way, have you seen Bill? He looks great. He is on David Letterman and whoever else will listen to him. When the cat is away the rat will play.

Another Memoir

Jenny Sanford has announced that she is going to write a memoir. The publishing company says that she will have help. That means someone else will write the book. Jenny will just dictate. Poor Jenny, did someone not tell her that Elizabeth Edwards just wrote the same book last year? Plus Elizabeth had a baby and hush money in her story. I think we would prefer a book from the "love story" lady of Argentina. That is probably juicier. All of us know about raising children and dealing with immature men.Why read about that when we can read a romantic love story in an exotic location. I would love to publish a book and would write it myself. Any suggestions on what I should do? Yesterday the husband stayed home sick. The heating and air company came to check the furnace. The service man is usually my age and looks like I feel. Yesterday the guy was hot with an awesome body. He had my furnace going. As he walked upstairs the husband said,"Who is that?" My response was " My boyfriend , we didn't know you would be home." The husband rolled his eyes. But that could be a bestseller. Suburban housewife has torrid affair with heating and air repairman with awesome body. Someone else would write this book because I would be busy getting my furnace stoked. But I digress from Jenny and Elizabeth. Remember the women with enough money that they don't need to air their dirty laundry in a memoir. I did read that John Edward's mistress and child are moving to Wilmington, N.C. Close to the Edward's Figure Eight home and not far from their Chapel Hill home. Now that is a book I will read.

Hitler

Having a sex change surgery requires lots of preparation. I have been busy getting ready for the big day on the 30th. That is why no recent blogs. Monday I took Chip to see his internal medicine vet. He has gained 6 pounds, Chip not the vet. While waiting for the appointment an older gentleman sat across from me. He was holding a large tabby cat. The cat appeared ill. What caught my eye was not the cat but the man. He looked just like Adolf Hitler. He had the small shifty eyes. He had the haircut with bangs. And most creepy he had the tiny mustache!!!!!!! I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. Shouldn't someone have told him to shave the mustache and change the hairdo? Did people click their heels and "Heil Hitler" when he walked by? Was he having a rehearsal for his Halloween costume? Was he playing Hitler in a play and ran his cat to the vet between shows? I even combed the vast trivia in my brain for information on children of Adolf Hitler. Maybe this man was a direct descendant of Hitler sitting in the vet's office in Charlotte, N.C.! The man never spoke so I have no clue if he spoke only German ,or in a guttural English accent, or just plain English. They called me back for Chip's appointment and I had to leave Hitler. When we were done he was gone. Since then I have been too busy in my life to worry about any Hitler descendant. If you know of this man please let me know the story.

Cotton and Hides

Tuesday was a long day. I left at 6:30 am for Chapel Hill and didn't get home until 6:30 pm. My surgery is a go now. Driving the interstate to Chapel Hill is a nightmare. I take the back roads. The drive is pretty and peaceful with lots of farms, animals, rolling hills, and Baden Lake. The cotton fields were magnificent, waves of green plants, cotton blooms, carolina blue sky, and red clay. Field after field I passed with cotton balls in bloom. I am always amazed that cotton is a plant. Driving through Chatam County I passed a business I had never noticed before. The sign was large and eye catching. Tan Your Hide Tanning Salon announced the sign. What a clever idea for a tanning salon. That is what you end up with spending your time baking your butt in a tanning bed - a hide!

Coughing and Hacking

Ever since returning from New York I have been hacking and coughing, coughing and hacking. I tried everything short of going to the doctor. I thought it would run it's course. The yuk didn't and the husband took me to the doctor. I have bronchitis. Tomorrow is my pre-surgical visit for my surgery scheduled on September 30th. Now I have visions of canceled surgeries in my head. I am going to lay low until the 30th. I do have Parent Weekends back to back starting this weekend. First stop is Tuscaloosa and then Atlanta. Describing my surgery to people is a bit awkward. When I say "I having reconstructive surgery of the colon and bladder" I get weird looks. Plus you can't tell some people that while they are eating, or just about when they are doing anything. Now I am saying I'm having a sex change operation. The responses are more lively and entertaining. Yesterday while hacking and coughing I thought who would I be if I were a man? After studying on this for quite a bit, I couldn't come up with just one man. I had several but only for certain traits they possessed. This is the man I would be if I were a man. I would have the brain of Albert Einstein, the communication ability of Henry Kissinger, the money of Bill Gates ( yes, I'd still do his charity stuff), the humor of George Clooney, the writing ability of Ernest Hemingway, the golf style of Tiger Woods, and the head and body of Tom Brady. I would be one bad man. Most people after their sex change do take a new name depending on which way they go. After my surgery just call me Bond, James Bond.

Woodstock

The husband and I watched the Woodstock festival Sunday. We were on a staycation over Labor Day weekend. Actually we have been on a staycation all summer. We listened to Jimmy Hendricks. Could you imagine being there when he played the Star Spangled Banner? The husband didn't like Janis Joplin then or now. I loved Janis then and now. She and I can do a mean "Me and Bobby McGee". Wonder how Jimmy and Janis would be living today? The husband said about half way through that he should have gone. Many of his college classmates from RPI did. That is when it hit me. All those rolling in the mud, pot smoking, LSD tripping, free love, peace, Woodstock participants are now all in their 50s and 60s. They are me and the husband. Overweight, bald , grey hair, Viagra addicts, tax payers, grandparents and gasp - maybe even Republicans! My children think the husband and I are so boring. Little do they know we were the generation of make love not war. Sing it Janis! Play it LOUD Jimmy!

Blog of Note

I am trying not to be competitive about my blog. However having " The Blog Of Note " pop up when I get ready to post, makes it hard. Of course I have to check them out. What do I see but lots of pictures, travels, videos, and hundreds of followers. One blog started a month before me and has over 300 followers and 1000's of hits to their profile. I have 10 followers which is actually 9 because 1 follower has herself twice. I have 110 hits to my profile. Not that I check the number. The other blog has a beautiful blonde with butt crunch videos and lots of picture. Do I need pictures? Do I need better topics? Do I need butt crunch videos? Do I need blonde hair? The reason I don't do pictures is one - I lost my camera, two - I don't know how to post them. I feel my blog is one of a higher caliber. My readers are of an intelligence that they don't need pictures to see my point. They use their imagination. My blog is on the line of first edition Shakespeare. A literary event to be savored like a fine wine. But if getting 300 followers takes me dying my hair blonde, I will. Anything for the cause of high brow literate.

Apology Blog

I read the column of Maureen Dowd Tuesday regarding cyberbullies and lawsuits. It seems a New York model was subjected to an online tormentor calling her skank, ho , and old hag. Now that I am part of the over 50 set I don't know how relevant those terms are to me. But anyway the model sued Goggle to get her tormentor's name, which she did. Now the tormentor is suing Goggle for giving the model her name. So I figure I need to apologize to any one in my blog that I have offended except of course John Edwards and Mark Sanford. They are not in a position to sue anyone calling them names. But before my official apology I do need to send out a shout to one person.

Dear Neighbor from hell, Bitch of all Bitches, Thinks her poop don't stink,

I am the lady that has lived behind you for 12 years. You know the one you have never spoken to or welcomed to the neighborhood. You did have your husband call once to yell because my dogs muddied your outdoor salon. I worked full time and my idiot children let the dogs out. You would have known that if you spoke to me. I even was your nurse once but you were so busy being the "doctor's wife" you didn't notice. I am glad that you reached such a high standing in your life, being a doctor's wife. However after way too many years of nursing and working long hours with the doctor gods, I could tell you stories that would wilt your little queen crown. Please refer to my posting regarding Poop of another color. You have a serious case of thinking your poop don't stink.

Sincerely,

Your neighbor behind you who hates your guts

Now that is off my chest, I apologize to anyone whom I may have offended in any of my blog postings. If you feel an apology is not enough and that you must sue me good luck getting any money. Remember the saying you can't get blood from a turnip? Well that explains my bank account.

Drama, Drama,Dog,Dog

Zeus growled and snarled at the pet sitter while I was in NYC. I came home to a dog behavior modification trainer appointment and lots of arguments with the husband. Do we keep the dog, do we put the dog to sleep, do we give the dog away, do the husband and I kill each? Those were the questions circling the wagon train and the homestead. Zeus just didn't want to get in his crate for the pet sitter or my husband. When Zeus doesn't want to do something he snarls and growls. Today the behavior modification dog trainer came for the first of six sessions. Zeus did great with everything but being tethered in the car seat. Tethering is seat belting them to the seat with a short lead.Zeus has to be tethered because he can jump out the window of the van. He did it at the car wash on the driver's side in a flash. Me,Chip and Shelley were like - "Holy Cow". The snarling and growling will become an extinct behavior according to the Paws-N-Order trainer. No fence. Zeus can jump the fence the neighbors have on one side of the yard. Border collies can jump. Never knew that until I got one. This weekend the son,who got me in this mess to begin with,is coming home to reinstall the electric fence in the backyard with his Dad. The son and Dad are fire on hot oil when they work together. Looking forward to an entertaining Labor Day weekend. It could only get better if my mother and mother-in-law came to visit too.

People Review

I can't go out of town without People backsliding. I am surprised I remain a loyal reader. If they don't get Jon and Kate off the front covers I am going to scream. Kate is going to whine forever about herself. Jon is now getting sex. Sex with eight children is hard to come by. But why are we putting them on the cover? Is the economy so bad that is all you have? When a dry week comes put a picture of a soldier's family or what about me? The other problem is not just with People. As an informed citizen I always read over all the current headlines in the checkout at the grocery store and Walmart. You know where Cheney gives interviews about communist plots and such. Headlines continue to scream about Jennifer Anniston's love life. Brad Pitt left her four kids ago. Move on. First it was she was in love with Bradley Cooper.Did she call these magazines and declare her love? Bradley Cooper is a player. That means his brain lives in his pants and his love life goes with hot and cold breezes. After all he did state in People he loved to play the ladies. Next he dumped Jennifer for Renee Zellweger. We know Bradley is a player so of course he will be seen with new women. A more important question that was not addressed was - are Jennifer and Renee girlfriends? As every girlfriend learns at an early age, girlfriends don't sleep with another girlfriend's boyfriend. That would have been a juicy story. Desperate movie star sleeps with girlfriend's boyfriend just to say she has a date. Now this week People says Jen had a sexy night out with Gerard Butler.And Bradley took Renee to his hometown. Leave Jen in peace. She is a skinny blonde with lots of money, girlfriends, and dogs. She has a house in Malibu. She doesn't need a man to be happy. Quit matching her up with everybody. We want the real dirt.Like girlfriends sleeping with other girlfriend's boyfriends.

Memories I forgot

My daughter and I went into a boutique in Park Slope called Red Lipstick. I wanted to go because I have never been in a store called Red Lipstick. I bought some awesome tattooed sleeves there. A great fashion accessory when the event calls for tattoos. The owner is a knitwear designer who has a knitting book coming out. She is on Raverly selling patterns. She said I had to go to School House Products. I did go to School House Products and met the designer for one of my favorite knitting books Runway Knits. I have made a coat for my daughter out of the book. The lady owns Karabella yarns. As I tell all my customers at Baskets Of Yarn, I have never met a Karabella yarn I didn't like. On Monday wandering Chelsea hoping to find an art gallery open I approached a women with two springer spaniels. Both were black and so much like Chip. I could see how the myasthensia gravis has ravaged Chip. Her dogs were 14 and 9, both so beautiful. She said the galleries were closed either because of Monday or August. They close in August and prepare for fall. She told me that I was a block from High Line Park and that was a must see. She was right. What a blessing I stopped to talk with her. As all good mothers do I felt I had to find the right places for my daughter to go in Park Slope. As I mentioned earlier the French Moroccan place was a must for her. They speak French and my waiter was incredibly handsome. When he flashed his smile I almost spoke French. I found Beacon's Closet for her, a vintage store with clothes from every era. An awesome pizza place with thin crust baked in a brick oven. An Italian restaurant with to die for food. The dessert made my junk in the trunk go ballistic. But she still needed a neighborhood bar to hang. After all that is where her Dad picked up me, a neighborhood bar. With much research we went to the Black Sheep Pub. They have a neon lit sign advertising Brooklyn Lager which they don't sell but that was a minor issue. Starting in September they have pop quiz night every other Wednesday. I love trivia and if all the questions come from People I could be such a winner. Unfortunately blackberries,cellphones and lifelines are not allowed. You pay $5.00 cover and the winning group gets 80% of the cover profits that night. What a bar. But the frosting on the cake was the bartender there that night. He is from Paris. He is going to a college majoring in sculpture. He showed me a picture of a sculpture he did in his parent's garden in the French countryside. He works the pop quiz nights. What a mom I am. I found two french speaking cutie men within walking distances of my daughter's brownstone. And one is from Paris!!!!!!! His family may own a vineyard and I will spend my elder years living in the little cottage on the vineyard sipping French wine and knitting.

NYC

I had a wonderful time in NYC with my daughter. I am so proud of her. She has lived a year on her own there without any help from her parents. She is an independent woman who can take care of herself. What a great feeling to have.
I have so many special memories of Manhattan and Brooklyn. The elderly English couple waiting for the Air Train at JFK. He sharply dressed in his navy blue and yellow pinstriped jacket with a yellow silk handkerchief in his lapel. She in her dowdy green floral print dress, sensible shoes , and a cardigan tied around her neck. Sweat pouring down their faces while they argue over which train to take. She says, "Bugger off" and he does.Asking two young men how to get to Berkley Place in Park Slope who shrug and answer in broken English. Instead the man ahead of them points straight ahead. The man and woman at the French Moroccan restaurant who are from Morocco and speak French. They promise to speak only French to my daughter when she eats there. The lady at the Pink Olive who asks if I know where Greenville, SC is because her friend has a shop there. The man at Parons in the garmet district who helps my daughter choose the material for her pajamas. He is from Greensboro. I have his card now. He will send swatches of fabrics and help me shop from home.While at M & J's Buttons the lady from Long Island who let me help her pick out buttons for her beautiful jacket she knitted. The man in Williamsburg skateboarding with his laundry bag on his board and laundry detergent on his back. The couple at lunch in Williamsburg who ask where I purchased my tie dyed dress. The blank stares when I reply, " The White Squirrel Festival in Brevard ,NC". The rolly, poly twin babies with blue saucer eyes slumped in their double stroller named Kate and Oliver shopping with Dad at the Barnes and Noble in Park Slope. The pretty little girl behind me on the escalator who asks her mom, "Is that lady's dress tie dyed?". The mom who exchanges a smile with me and answers , "Yes." The Dad running in the pouring rain to his apartment with his small daughter to get her brother so they both can play in the rain. The small daughter asking ,"Where did the rain go, Daddy?" when the rain stops as suddenly as it came. All the hipsters walking in Brooklyn with their cut off jeans and docksiders with no socks. The man in the vintage store on 5th in Park Slope with the tattooed neck and piercings who tells my daughter the adorable yellow bodice dress with a white skirt trimmed in tulle is sold. A young girl in the neighborhood comes every week to pay on it with money she earns. The waitress who tells us what scene her restaurant was in for the movie Julia and Julie. The most precious puppy in the world , Casey, whose owner (a cutie) says Casey has changed his life.The man at the shoe store who repaired my bag for $5.00 after I caught it in a revolving door. The beautiful Asian woman hugely pregnant shopping with her handsome African husband at the grocery store. The family on the Long Island train going to the beach. The father so attentive to his son and the mother so happy to be with her "men". Good memories to return home with.

The Equal Rites Award

Ellen Goodman described Mark Sanford as a new male escort along with Bristol Palin's ex - boyfriend. Ellen called him the year of Mark "Don't Cry for Me , Argentina" Sandford. This is in her national column regarding her Equal Rites Awards. Way to go Mark. Lets not forget to read Jenny Sandford's sob story in Vogue. If all the women whose husband's had affairs wrote a book or had stories in magazines, can you imagine how much paper would be used? There would be no trees on the earth left. Jenny, you are independently wealthy. Kick the scum to the curb and get a new life without airing the soiled sheets in Vogue.

Off To The City

I leave tomorrow to visit my daughter in NYC. I am so excited. I have never been to Brooklyn. I am anxious to see her new apartment. There are so many things to do in NYC but mainly I just want to spend time with my daughter. My husband will be in charge of the three dogs. Between feeding all three dogs in the morning and then feeding Chip two more times, it is like making meals for the kids. Just no cooking involved. They require numerous trips outside to the bathroom. The dog park is closed all week. Zeus spends his time wrestling with Shelley and trying to get in any available garbage can. He needs to run and herd. My husband will have six days alone with the three dogs. I figure he will be splitting rails and stringing wire for a fence by day two.

Flat Belly Diet

I just got my e-mails from Barnes and Nobles, Books - A - Million , and Borders announcing a new revolutionary cookbook. This life changing cookbook is called "The Flat Belly Diet Cookbook ". No there are not flat bellies on the cover. I believe the front cover has frosted cupcakes or some sort. I haven't seen the cookbook.I am not giving an opinion on the merits of owning such a book. Although displaying the cookbook in your kitchen with such a title could be an icebreaker at in home dinner parties. My discussion is what the hell is a flat belly after 40 and childbirth. You can scrunch and starve all you want. But that big roll of skin stays. Even those prune looking women who don't eat fat have the dreaded roll. I am not even talking about the rolls and wrinkles at your knees and elbows! Some of us more voluptuous women don't have the saggy elbows and knees. But everybody has the roll. So unless that cookbook gives names of good plastic surgeons for tummy tucks, I think this book is for pre-childbirth and youth. Maybe 13 years to 30 years. After that the book should be called "The Flat Belly Diet Cookbook After The Tummy Tuck So You Won't Have to Repeat the Tummy Tuck". I haven't fed myself and my very large tummy roll. Must run to make some frosted cupcakes.

Home Again

We returned from Tuscaloosa yesterday with an overnight detour to my girlfriend's in Easley, S.C. Tuscaloosa was hot and humid. We were glad we moved the last child in his dorm in the early morning. The room was on the third floor with no elevators and bunches of concrete steps. Thank goodness boys take electronics and food. That made fewer trips up and down the steps. I haven't seen the movie "The Curious Case Of Benjamin Buttons". I did read the short story. After several trips in the heat up those steps it would have been nice to be Benjamin Buttons.Those steps and the heat would have gone a little easier. The last son is settled in the dorm with his best bud, his best bud's 40 inch flat screen, a futon, a PS3, a WII, and my home made pillows and pillow cases. The other parents and boys were quite impressed with the decorating and lay out. The moms took pictures. I am sure all the oohs and aahs were over my sewing. We parents were not thrilled with the 40 inch flat screen. We feared there was no way to put it in the room. There was space. After we set it up, we walked out in the hall to see two boxes for 42 inch flat screens. Now all the last son has to do is go to class, study, and keep out of trouble. I have returned home to some very smelly, stinky dogs. I have put off baths all day but the odor just gets stronger. I think Shelley has some skunk in her family tree. Chip shares a crate with her so he smells skunky too. The dog park is closed all week for renovations. The heat is awful. I have told the dogs they are going to have to chill this week. I leave Thursday to see my daughter in NYC. When I return the dog park will be new and improved. And Shelley will smell like a skunk again.

The Costco Queen

Things are hopping here getting my son ready for his college life in Tuscaloosa. Yesterday we were stocking up in Costco.The weather was hot and oppressive. The bank thermometer read 95. Everyone shopping wore shorts and anything to keep cool. I being the fashion icon wore my elegant tie-dyed dress. You can have Costco pizza and a hot dog in that dress with room to grow. As we went aisle to aisle preparing my son for college life we passed a couple. What caught my eye was the woman. She was my height and my size pre-IBS. Her hair was perfectly coiffured with nothing out of place. I felt the frosting was a little too stark for her coloring but I am not her hair stylist. She had full makeup on that had not melted in the heat. I felt the her foundation was too heavy and not the right color but I am not her make-up artist. She wore camel colored dress pants and one of those tops with European scenes in a rayon blend fabric. She carried a black purse over her arms that matched her patent leather slides. Her harried looking husband pushed the buggy carrying a small boy. He and the boy were both in shorts and white polo shirts. She glided down each aisle until she would see what she needed. Then she would stop, point at the item and the harried husband would rush to grab the item and place it in their cart.We passed them down several aisles. The first aisle she looked up and down at my elegant tie-dyed dress. After she glided by I knew she was just itching to own such a dress. All of these aisle encounters occurred with me facing her. Finally on the last aisle she walked ahead of us. First I just stared. Then I cracked up. My son is "What are you doing?" I then told him about the woman. He looked and he cracked up too. As she glided down every aisle of Costco sniffing in disdain at the rest of us sweating away in our summer gear she had a big piece of masking tape stuck to her ass. The harried husband hadn't told her so I wasn't either. At the check-out she gave me another up and down look. I thought no way can a woman with duct tape stuck to her ass carry off my elegant tie-dyed dress. So I did not tell her to attend a White Squirrel Festival so she too could be a fashion icon.

People Update

This is a heads up on the latest People magazine. Kevin Federline is going on a diet. He will give up junk food and work with a trainer. I think getting a job would go a long way. So think about viable employment Kevin. Be a man. George Clooney has a new honey. She is an Italian bombshell working on a entertainment show. They are zipping around Lake Cumo on George's motorcycle. The picture of her resembles me a whole lot. I think the reason George has not married is me. He keeps hoping I will come back on the market. That is why he keeps going out with my look a likes. George! George! I feel your pain but I am a married lady. Brad Pitt had a nice write up in Parade magazine . He gave a tour of his home including the pool with the secret grotto that is great for sex. Now there will be helicopters with super lens hovering over the pool. Mark Sanford's wife left the Governor's Mansion. John Edward's mistress testified against him. Three mistresses and a wife glued a man's privates to his stomach. All reasons for men to keep their pants zipped and super glue out of the house.

David Suchet

David Suchet is one of my favorite actors. That is because he brought to life my beloved book character Hercule Poirot. I adore all of Agatha Christie's books. Each book has been read repeatedly. Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot are my heroes. Any and all movies, television shows, and specials have been watched over and over. The series of Hercule Poirot with David Suchet is the best. Mr. Suchet brings him to life. He walks like his shoes are too small. His facial expressions mirror all the quirks that are Hercule Poirot. He corrects everyone quickly who calls him French. He suffers through the English food. Last night I was able to watch a Poirot that I had missed many years ago. Mr. Suchet was perfect. I felt Agatha by my side. We were both saying "Bravo David Suchet! Bravo Hercule Poirot!". Mr. Suchet and Mr. Poirot were one and the same.

A Poop of Another Color

I was a candystriper in high school. I went to LPN school and then worked as a LPN to put myself through RN school. I then proceeded to work many years as a nurse in lots of different areas - medical/surgical floors, ICUs, ERs, pediatrics, ORs ,Pre-Op, Recovery Room, Colonscopy, Pain Clinics etc. You get the idea. Where ever the pay was good I jumped in and worked my tail off. The reason for this resume of my nursing is to explain why I can add a new spin on the race card. By now everyone knows about the Cambridge episode. Taking the race card out of it, two things should be learned. One - never attempt to pry open your door with a taxi driver. Call a locksmith instead. Two - the police should always travel in pairs or have a camcorder on their hat. Now for my expert opinion on race. My children have heard this time and time again. I have emptied many a bedpan, drawn blood, cleaned up vomit , and been around all body fluids. I have seen inside bodies through surgery, trauma, and codes. I am here to say not once could I have identified someone's race or gender by their poop, body fluids ,or their insides. Never did I say "What a fine example of Caucasian poop". Or "This is an incredible specimen of African-American poop". Or "Everyone come look at this exquisite Asian-American poop". Or "Boy this is a manly poop". Even my patient who spoke no English pooped just like my American patients. After too many years of cleaning up poop I am telling you we are all the same on the inside and what comes out is all the same too. People need to get over themselves, their race, their religion, and their poop. We just need to get along.

The Cleaning Lady

The cleaning lady comes today. That is what we call her no matter who it is. Cleaning ladies have been in and out of my marriage. They came after the children and when the husband traveled internationally. Then they left after the children grew and became more expensive. My husband hired one about four years ago because he was freaking out about the black rings in the toilet. I tried to explain that was my signal to clean them You know first the pink rings,then the red rings and finally the black ring and then you clean. That cleaning lady lasted about three pay periods and the husband said we couldn't afford one. About a year ago I just got too tired to do much. I would plan to clean but take a nap instead. The toilet's black rings were having baby rings. The husband shelled out the dough and today I wait for her to arrive. The whole point of this musing is why do I clean and pick up before the cleaning lady comes?

mundane thoughts

I saw the picture of Robert Redford's new bride in People this weekend. He definitely should have waited on me. I assume the bride has a great personality. Although it was refreshing to see a 72 year old man with a mature 52 year old woman instead of a 20 year old bimbo. T-Pain explained how he came to be called T-Pain - the t is for Tallahassee and the pain is for getting out of there. Maybe I should be called G-Pain - g for Greenville and the pain for getting out. Mark Sanford is vacationing in Europe for two weeks with his family. Evidently this trip is for his boys before they leave home. South Carolina is at the top for unemployment and at the bottom for education. Mark Sanford has become as embarrassing as that confederate flag that hangs in front of the Capital. When Mark comes back grab him before he leaves again and string him up with the flag. I'm telling South Carolina the War is ovah and so is Mark Sanford. With three dogs it is very apparent a fenced in yard is mandatory. I thought of trading sex for a fence on Craigslist. But when the guy comes for the measurements and sees me the deal will fold. Plus my sutures have to dissolve. So I have decided anyone that has ever gotten a Christmas gift from me is getting a fence this year. That includes my three children. Christmas Day we will all wake up, run outside and ooh and aah over this incredible gift of a fence. I just realized it is Christmas in July. Happy Fence too!

Good Reads

I love to read. I read every day especially before I go to sleep. My bedside is stacked with piles of books. My weekly or biweekly library trips add to the pile. When I find a book I really, really like I get so excited. This past two weeks I have read two such books. Both involve murder because I read about murder way too much. Both have white in their title. Both are in parts of the world I would love to see but probably never will. The first one is "White Nights" by Ann Cleeves. This is part of a series of novels set in the Shetland Islands. She makes her characters come alive. I felt like I was right there on the island worried about the murderer. The second book is "The White Tiger A Novel" by Aravind Adiga. His is set in India. He writes in a clever, witty way describing the hard life of the underprivileged in India. Both books took me to places I may never see but made me feel I had visited. I think I am supposed to underline for the books instead of the " but I don't know how to do that.

Tie - Dye

I awoke this morning to hot heavy panting on my left cheek and something cold and wet in my right hand. Before I fully awoke I thought it was my husband home early to surprise me. I opened my eyes to see Zeus standing over me on my left side and Shelley nudging my right hand with her nose. It wasn't even 7:00. I knocked Zeus to the ground where he belonged and started the day. Things are progressing nicely. Chip ate and both poops have been outside. With the toilet lids closed and the pool table barricaded, Zeus is drinking his water out of a bowl and pooping outside. Shelley is easy - eat,drink,poop,sleep,and repeat as often as possible. I pooped after my morning tea. All is right with the world except my "fire in the hole". I am proud to announce I am so fashion forward. The article today in the The Charlotte Observer Style section announced tie-dye is in. Obviously I knew that last year when I purchased my tie-dyed dress at the White Squirrel Festival in Brevard. I knew I was making a fashion statement just not a year in advance. I spent a considerate amount of time choosing the design of tie-dye in my dress. I got the one with a large bright yellow sun on the left side of my hip with the rays blending into the sky. I felt the large yellow sun was best on the side of my hip instead of in front or back. I wear the dress all the time even this Easter at Edisto Beach. Of course the designer in the article explains that his $175.00 dress is so elegant. He did it right in beautiful silk and a flowing fabric, not a tacky cotton. Well I am here to say my cotton tie-dyed dress is not tacky. People shout "Here comes the sun" when I walk elegantly into the Wal-Mart or Target.

What To Say?

Yesterday was a post anesthesia blur. Today my head is full of all kinds of things. Mostly it says my bottom hurts. I got four moles removed instead of two. I have lots of sutures. I feel like I have an episiotomy from delivering the Incredible Hulk. The dogs remain first and foremost. Chip is not too good. He is eating some but everything comes right back out. He averages 6 to 7 stools a day. He looks like a Keith Richard dog. I have him down on the lowest dose possible for his medicine. I just keep watching him day to day. He loves the dog park. He runs and runs, sniffs butts and checks out the little girl dogs. He is a young puppy while there. The rest of the time he sleeps or poops. Sometimes he makes it outside and sometimes he doesn't. That makes him hang his head. Zeus is still living the fraternity life. He tries to sleep on all the couches, beds, and chairs available. A toilet is just a big water bowl to him. He barks by the toilet for you to raise the lid. Under the pool table is his favorite place to poop. That lasted about 2 days. I know have a barricade of beanbag chairs and folding table up so he can't get downstairs. He spent most of this morning growling at the beanbag chairs. Shelley is fine. She wants to eat everybody's dog food. She doesn't care Chip is dying or Zeus is new. Food is fair game and she will knock anybody down to get the last morsel. I hope to get some quilting and knitting done while waiting for my sutures to dissolve. Sitting for long is an issue.Yesterday I watched Lana Turner and Ava Gardner bat their eyes. Then I watched Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple battle crime. Today I have some Humphrey Bogart and Robert Mitchum DVRed. I am just not the same since Robert Redford got married last week. I thought he was waiting for me to be available.

Monday, Monday

Monday always makes me think of the Mommas and Poppas song. This Monday I am singing the blues. For over a year I have been working on getting surgery to put all the parts of me that have fallen out back inside. The parts are in the bottom region. I needed several tests to verify that they were hanging out. I knew they were but the surgeons needed exact measurements. Several of the tests were developed by the Nazis during the Holocaust.The last set of tests discovered I have moles down below that don't look too good and need to be removed. So today I travel to Chapel Hill to have those removed and biopsied. When I wake after the removal I will no longer be singing "Monday, Monday". Instead me and Johnny will have fell in a burning ring of fire. I fell down,down and the flames went higher and it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire, the ring of fire.

Dear David Letterman

Dear David Letterman,

I hope I am not violating copyright laws by using your top ten list format. If you must sue me, I will declare insanity and state one of my other personalities did it.

Sincerely, Cullie

Top Ten Ways To Tell You Grew Up In A Dysfunctional Home

10. Watching Jerry Springer is like watching a home movie.

9. You grow up without heat or hot water but your parents are on a first name basis with the car salesman at the Plymouth dealership.

8. There is no grass in the backyard because of all the new cars, trucks, and motorcycles parked there.

7. When it rains you have buckets to catch the water from the roof leak. After multiple rains and leaks you watch the plaster fall from the ceiling and wall.

6. You think all Dad's come home a couple times a month to beat their wife and yell at the kids.

5. You get to know the police from all the times you call the police to break up your parent's fights.

4. Your Mother has an affair with a man who buys your Dad's truck. Years later your Dad marries the man's widow.

3. Your Dad has an affair with the woman your Mother babysits for. They marry for a few years after your parent's divorce.

2. You have as many ex stepbrothers, stepsisters, and stepparents as Elizabeth Taylor's children.

1. You know you have a new stepfather because you come home Christmas and there is a wedding cake on the washing machine.

Dogs,Dogs,Dogs

My life has gone to the dogs. Trips to the dog park, Pet Smart, and the vet. Refereeing meal time and lots of trips outside to eliminate meal time. Refereeing nap time and each dog's designated spot. Bedtime and where each dog will sleep. But all in all things are progressing well. The dogs are excellent at the dog park running off leash with a pack of strange dogs. Shelley did snarl at a tiny poodle in a pink dress. My husband said she probably thought it was a rabbit. My husband came home last night after being gone all week. We attempted to sit on the screened porch with all three dogs. Chip promptly smeared his myasthenia gravis drool on my husband's dress pants. Then Zeus cocked his leg and peed on the wicker hassock my husband's feet were on. My husband stomped in the house. I cleaned up the chair and finished off the bottle of wine we had started. Domestic bliss with three dogs.

Bernie Madoff

Three dogs are keeping me busy. I feel like Angelina and Brad just minus the money. Today I discovered that Bernie Madoff is in prison in NC. He is in a prison about 45 minutes from Raleigh.I know the south takes most of the toxic waste from other states. I didn't know North Carolina takes human toxic waste too. The article says he will be with all the hardened criminals. But they emphasized how good the hospitals are at the prison. We all hope Bernie lives long enough to feel his fellow man's pain. He should suffer before he gets to go to the hospital.

Life of Threes

I weighed this morning and have lost three pounds. That entitled me to two chocolate cake donuts at the Dunkin Donuts drive through. I figured three donuts were pushing the weight loss. But while we are discussing the number three I need to relate it to my life. Three siblings, three grandmothers, three fiancees, three brother-in-laws, three children, three sewing machines, and three dogs.Yes three dogs. Zeus was thrown out of the fraternity house and must come to live with us. He and the maid did not see eye to eye. He has been through a rescue, a divorce, advertised on Craigslist, another rescue by my son, and now ejected from the fraternity. I hope he doesn't need therapy. Maybe I will take him to my psychiatric visits and he might relate to my troubles. I have talked to Chip and Shelley about Zeus. They aren't too interested. They will be when Zeus arrives. I did take them to the new dog park at Davie Park. They did great with all the other dogs. Chip was a little crabby until he realized that if he let the dogs sniff his butt he could sniff as much as he wanted of their butt. So my life of three continues. The third child leaves and the third dog arrives. The three baby birds have flown the nest. I wonder if this means I am also entitled to three men? Hmmmmm.

More Songs

I am intently listening to all the words of songs downloaded on my MP3. I discovered that Blue Oyster Cult was singing "Don't fear the Reaper" instead of "Don't fear the reefer". I always wondered what Romeo and Juliet had to do with pot. I now have my new song for my current life - " My Humps " by the The Black Eye Peas. "What are you gonna do with all that junk inside that trunk?" is the question I ask myself everyday. My old song was Peter Frampton's "Do You Feel Like I Feel?". The beginning words speak to me. "Woke up this morning with a wine glass in my hand. Whose wine? What wine? Where in the hell did I dine ?" Yep I had some mornings like that. The best song in the world hands down is "Layla". I always wanted to be Layla where a man sings his love for me accompanied by kick ass guitar. I think Dr. Dre needs his mouth washed with soap. And to all the husbands of the world, especially mine, listen to Aretha sing "Respect". "All I'm asking for is a little respect when you come home." Last but not least to all couples, listen to "I Walk The Line" by Johnny Cash every day. That song might halt some of the adultery out there.

P.S It is "Ice Ice Baby" not "Ice Baby". And "Don't Worry Be Happy".

Fat , Frumpy Lady

I have studied and studied on what to do with this fat, frumpy lady on my backside. Even with chronic nausea, minimal food, and walks around the block ; she remains. All this studying about her has led me to believe she might be here forever. So this is my way to allow her in my life without shame or defeat. I am announcing I am a competitive eater. I plan to have shirts made that state "Competitive Eater In Training". No one will notice the fat, frumpy lady on my ass. They will see an athlete. Someone that might be in Coney Island the next fourth eating Nathan hotdogs. I can see it now - contests, interviews, People magazine, reality shows, and maybe "America's Got Talent". Then I will retire from the competitive eating circuit and a wealthy fan will pay for the surgical removal of the fat, frumpy lady. Gotta go get those T - shirts made.

Cat Scratch Fever

I am walking my dogs around the neighborhood these days. That means listening to my MP3 downloaded with some great songs. There is one rap song - Bitches and Hoes that is pretty raunchy. With rap songs you have to listen to the words. They are in your face. Songs I grew up with had so much loud music you couldn't hear the words. Now that I am sweating, walking 2 dogs and carrying that frumpy, fat lady on my ass ; I am listening to the words. Cat Scratch Fever has floored me! I assumed the song was about cat scratch fever. You know , the disease. After listening to the words the song has new meaning. A disease that has nothing to do with cats!

Happy Fourth

Today is the fourth of July. This is one of my favorite holidays. No presents, hot weather, cold beer, and a cookout. Lots of my fourths were spent in Myrtle Beach with my daughter in competitive dance tournaments. Those are good memories with lots of good laughs. Once my friend and I dressed alike the entire tournament. The best outfit were our t-shirts declaring " my daughter dances better than your daughter" on the front and our respective daughter's names on the back. That made those dance moms stand to attention. Another memory was being kicked out of a restaurant in Murrell's Inlet. Yes kicked out. We were a party of four adults, two teen age girls, and four boys. We weren't drunk. The children weren't out of control. We were just a large party taking up space for the fireworks. The restaurant wrapped up our desserts to go and sent us on our way. We adults did not cuss or fight for the children's sake. Another fourth we met a tornado in Garden City. Our two families huddled in the laundry room downstairs in the condo complex while idiots stood on roof tops filming the tornado going down the beach. Yes these are family memories created to laugh about in later years.

A Big Boo Hoo

I want to extend a big boo hoo to Bernie Madoff's wife. She says she has been conned too. GASP! She only has 2 million left. GASP! Her penthouse in NYC is gone as is her limo and chauffeur. GASP! Someone snapped her picture riding on the subway. GASP! She may have to get a job. GASP! She may have to dye her own hair. GASP! She may have to fire all her help. GASP! She may have to live like the rest of us. GASP! Let us have a moment of silence and a big boo hoo for Mrs. Madoff.

Bull Street

Growing up in South Carolina, I knew about Bull Street about the same time I knew about Mr. Dohickey. Bull Street was the location of the state mental hospital. Anybody acting strange ended up there. "Yep, they need to visit Bull Street", was heard often in my childhood. There were people in my social circle who actually went. There seemed to be a pattern to the trips. Usually a husband sent his wife on enough visits to Bull Street, that she eventually enjoyed housework, kids, and staying home all the time without giving the husband lip. Now remember my childhood was back in the day before Prozac and Cymbalta. I think the wives I knew had some shock treatments and those little lovely pills called Valium. I never visited Bull Street then or now. My psychiatric stays were in an antebellum home converted to a hospital in Charleston.That was over thirty years ago. I am not sure if there are psychiatric hospitals still on Bull Street in Columbia or in an antebullum home in Charleston. What I do know is simple. An ambulance with people in white coats needs to pull up to the South Carolina governer's mansion, and take Mark Sanford out in a straight jacket. Then the ambulance needs to head immediately to Bull Street. I know Mark is from Beaufort and that is close to Charleston. But Bull Street is right there in the capitol. I believe he needs immediate shock treatments to his penis. Then he needs heavy dosages of anti-psychotics. He is certainly out of touch with reality. Describing his affair as a "love story" and then telling that he had "other encounters" but intends to " fall back in love with his wife" are all good reasons for my prescibed therapy. After completing his stay at Bull Street, he can rehab at John Edward's Mansion. John needs some company.

How Stupid Can You Be

So much titillating news it is hard to focus. Today I chose the stupidest one. John Edwards is beyond stupid. When his brain dropped to his shorts there was damage done. Perhaps a subdural hematoma, I mean none of us know how big his brain is or his package for that matter. Andrew Young , John's trusted aide, sold a book proposal to St. Martin's Press. He says that John begged him to confess to fathering Rielle Hunter's baby. This is where stupid enters the equation. How many of us know of a woman with young children, who would live in the same house as her husband's mistress and love child ? That is what happened when John packed off to California his mistress, child, trusted aide, and the trusted aide's family. Andrew was promised financial help for life to lie. Now with the investigation into John's finances, Andrew must be panicking. To spice up the book he says he has a sex tape too. I wonder if John's hair gets messy during sex? That will be the only reason I will watch the tape. One thing I know. John gets up every morning and says a prayer to Mark Sanford for keeping him off the front page.

Random Thoughts

Today is Monday. Just random stuff in my head that needs to be expressed. People didn't read my blog. Kate is on the front cover of the new issue. I did not read the article. She and Jon need to quit whining and get jobs. I grew up with Michael Jackson's music. I am sad for his children. I hope they are able to function as adults. You know your family is truly dysfunctional when Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are your spokespersons. I am running a pharmacy out of my home. My medicine are twice a day. Shelley gets hers in the morning. My husband takes his by himself. Chip gets his three times a day. He gets a syringe full of medicine three times along with Valium. He gets Zantac twice a day. He hacks and coughs up a much as he can. There was a Zantac by the kitchen sink this morning. I am titrating the syringe medicine under the supervision of his internist and neurologist. There is a fine line dosage wise with medicine. Too much causes diarrhea and urine incontinence. Not enough doesn't keep the myasthenia gravis under control. My husband argues with me regarding the dosages. Evidently he knows more than veterinarians specializing in neurology and internal medicine. I am so fortune to be married to such a knowledgeable person. The fat, frumpy lady is back. I weighed myself this morning. She was behind me on the scales. That number can not be right. It has nothing to do with all the graduation cake I ate. Or all the food I have eaten at all the parties I have been going to. I go to Tai Chi today. Maybe I can sling her off with one of my moves. I am afraid the only way to get rid of her is some hard exercise or major liposuction. Maybe I will fast for a week. Cleanse my body of all the toxins. Before I fast for a week I probably need to eat as much as possible to keep me from becoming too thin. Chocolate over pancakes will be a good start.

The Gov

Dear Mark Sanford,

You should have kept your pants zipped. You are definitely screwed now.

Sincerely, Cullie

TACKY, TACKY

I read an article a few weeks back in The Charlotte Observer that won't get out of my head. The article described the Rock Hill Women's Club fundraiser. I have no objection to the fundraiser. What I can't get out of my head is how they raised the money. Toilets painted pink with some decoration that were left on front lawns. The recipients of these toilets paid a "ransom" to have them removed. The local news had a feature of two women lugging a pink toilet to a lawn and then running to their mini van for the getaway. When my son in Atlanta was a high school junior, I had a toilet left on my front porch. There was no ransom. My son's high school friends delivered it as a joke on my son. Notice I have said high school friends left it for my high school son. So to get this out of my head, I need to say - TACKY,TACKY,TACKY,TACKY,TACKY,TACKY,TACKY! Thank you, I feel so much better. Who ever thought of the toilet fundraiser needs to be on the refreshment committee.

The Heat Is On

My beloved South is now a steaming, humid bed of heat. I grew up with these summers, running barefoot without air conditioning. I loved the heat. My diseases do not. The chronic nausea goes into dry heaves every time it hits the heat. The Irritable Bowel reacts with bloating. I wake up with a flat stomach. By mid afternoon I am pregnant with an elephant. The fatigue is overwhelming. Getting out of bed is an Olympic event. The Restless Leg Syndrome does the Riverdance in bed every night. The Fibromyalgia wants to flare up so bad. It hits me with pain every where. My hands ache and cramp. All my toes are cold and numb with shooting pains up my legs. Acupuncture is helping. You have not lived until you have had acupuncture needles between your fingers and toes. Air conditioning is a blessing. Tai Chi helps although I am the worst one in the class. Carrying the elephant around makes it hard to balance and find chi. I take the class at a Senior Citizen's Center. I thought I would be the best. I started at the front. I am now firmly in the back. During this heat if I am rude and bitchy, please choose from the above diseases for explanation. Or better yet blame it on the elephant I don't plan on delivering.

The Bachelor Issue of People

Friday I received my Special Double Issue of People featuring the Summer's Hottest Bachelors. I have several problems with this issue. First of all not one bachelor is over 50. Chace Crawford is in his 20's. If I want to see 20 year old guys, I can hang out at my son's fraternity. Or better yet spend my Parent's Weekend's at GT and Alabama checking out the Hottest 20 year old Bachelors. Next was the article on Chastity Bono. He / She is having surgery to become a man. I have no problem with the surgery. My problem was with the article. The article referred to Chasity as he in keeping with "his transgender feelings." He is now calling himself Chaz. The Grandmother referred to him as her, as did Cher. Between the Chasity/Chaz and he/she,I felt like I needed a penis. Next objection was "The Tales of Passion." Lance Bass is featured there. A woman is clutching his arm while he pulls away. He discusses his first boyfriend, so why is he pictured with a woman? Maybe he is pulling away because he wanted a guy in the picture. Adam Lambert was in a great picture without a woman. Last but not least get Jon and Kate out of my magazine! If you are going to take fertility drugs and have twins, and take fertility drugs and have 6 children, and have a reality show - yes , you will have affairs and get divorced.

Sitting in the Mansion

A front page article of The Charlotte Observer Thursday featured John Edwards. John sits alone in his mansion worrying about the poor people. He refused to discuss the fraud investigation of his campaign, his former mistress, the paternity of the child of his former mistress, his wife's book, his wife's media campaign for her book, and his abandonment of his scholarships, think tanks and programs for the poor. He just wants to talk about sitting in his mansion worrying about the poor. Oh and by the way he is helping the poor in El Salvador. He plans to go back and maybe dig a ditch.This is my advise to dear old John. You got that mansion from suing lots of doctors and hospitals. You can add your name to the list of why American medical care is astronomical. During your campaign you decided to follow in John Kennedy, Gary Hart, and Bill Clinton's footsteps. In other words - keep your pant's zipped. Have you ever heard of Mother Theresa? The woman who sacrificed her whole life for the poor. Follow in her footsteps. Fill that mansion with the poor people. Cut your own hair. Help the guy across the road whose " trashy yard" has been such distress to Elizabeth.

The Med Student

I went shopping with my house guest yesterday. Since I am feeding and housing her I can drag her wherever I want. We stopped at one of my favorite shops The Mud Pie. A good friend works there. I got to visit with her, buy a gift, and get a lead on a good looking med student for my daughter. What more could you ask of a store? One of the employees' son is doing his hospital rotation in Brooklyn. He knows no one. Being the mothers we are, my friend told the employee about my daughter living in N.Y.C. The employee was a delight. She and I exchanged her son and my daughter's e-mails and phone numbers. My friend said to pass on to my daughter that the med student was good looking too. I had my house guest immediately text all the info to my daughter. I text so slow that I would still be texting next week. Stay tuned to this saga. Will he and my daughter date? Will he and a friends of hers date? Will he and she and all her friends just be friends? Will nothing happen? Will I have to go to another store for a different guy?

P.S. I did buy a futon at Target for the son going to Alabama.

I'm Tired

The party's are over. My house has only one guest for the next two weeks. My grand dog is awesome. He and my dogs played nice. There were a few minor growl fests but no bloodshed. He had a shower upon his arrival but other than that he liked us just fine. The shower was in case of fleas. I expected my son to bathe him outside. But showering his dog at 1:00 am made perfect sense to him. My son at home enjoyed his party. Thanks to all of you who came to help him celebrate. That meant so much to myself and my family. Chip did not do well during all the festivities. He thinks he is still the man even though his body tells him different. Kind of like Anna Nichole's first husband. Yesterday he was dragging his hind legs barely able to move. I took him and Shelley out to do their duty but left Chip off leash. Just as we go out a neighbor behind us comes between the house next door to us. Chip charges across the lawn growling and barking at their dog. Shelley and I just stand there. Two minutes ago he couldn't use his hind legs, now he is a wolf going in for the kill. The neighbor screams at Chip and he stops just short of their dog. The neighbor and her walking buddy glare at me with their hands on their hips, and then walk off with the dog. I am left standing there with Shelley. What can I do? Yell "he was a cripple five minutes ago" or "he has myasthenia gravis" or "what the hell are you doing cutting through my neighbor's lawn?". Chip now is on a mad dash to sniff everywhere the dog walked. He is still charging around. Kind of like he had a dose of Vigara and needs to use it. Finally he starts limping and I drag his butt back home. I am tired and worried any minute the dog police will come knocking. I will use all of Chip's drugs to exonerate he and I. No dog police arrive and no neighbors call. Chip is back to limping and I am so tired. He and I will rest now. Even if I have to carry him outside he will still be on his leash.

Graduation Party

The son at home graduates Friday at 3:30 with the party at 6:00. My daughter flies in tonight. My son from Atlanta drives home tomorrow night. He is bringing his dog, Zeus. My first grand dog. My sister already has 2 grand dogs. I was feeling left out. I am trying to prepare Chip and Shelley for the meeting of their nephew. They aren't interested. Chip is on 30 mgm of Valium for his myasthenia gravis. He is pretty mellow these days. Shelley only does what Chip does. She is a big chicken. She is especially afraid of vacuums . I read an article about vacuuming a shedding dog. Shelley has never fully recovered from her vacuuming experience. Taking in all these factors the dog fights shouldn't draw blood. My husband cooked two pots of sauce a few weekends ago. He will be home tomorrow to stuff shells and whatever else he feels is necessary. My role, according to him, will be to do whatever he tells me to do. The carpets are clean. The dogs are groomed. My children will sit during the party on the furniture with ripped upholstery. Basically that is the whole family room. There are enough people coming that it will be hard to see massacred hardwoods. The lights will be dimmed so all peeling paint, spots and dents in ceilings and walls will appear as soft shadows.

I checked the nest yesterday and the momma was there. I am not going back. The space is dark and the nest, pot, and momma are brown. I will leave well enough alone. I should never gone in there. I do so much better sitting in my big chair knitting.

Baby Birds

Yesterday I was out in the backyard watering my herbs. I went to find my insecticidal soap in the space under the screened porch. Of course I didn't have any. However I noticed a bunch of leaves and twigs in one of my clay pots. I picked up the pot to clean it out and out flew a bird. She flew through the lattice and out into the backyard. It scared the holy crap out of me. Thank goodness for incontinence pads. After I calmed down I looked into the pot. There were three teeny,tiny baby birds. They were all pink skin, beaks and eyes. I quickly put the pot back in it's original place. I walked out to the deck. The momma bird and all her buddies were pitching a fit. I apologized profusely and continued my day. Last night I went to bed remembering the baby birds. Did the momma go back after I disturbed the nest? Where the baby birds alone and shivering? Did I need to get baby bottles and milk? No, no, worms and grubs. What did baby birds eat? Would I have to become the mother? I am taking my youngest to college in the fall. Now I would have to take of three babies. Babies that I don't know what to feed. You don't breast feed birds and that was how I fed my kids. I want an empty nest not one with three birds in it! Plus I drove the mother away. When the birds grew up, would they resent me for the loss of their mother? Would they require intense therapy? Would they rob banks? And right at this minute - are they cold? I can't sit on the nest. I will have to knit them sweaters. I will do generic colors until I figure out their sex. I finally went to sleep. Today is no better. I am afraid to go back down there in cause the momma is there. But if I don't there are three starving babies. After reading this, I agree with Gordon, I do need to get a life.

Roll Tide

We are back from our trip to Tuscaloosa. My son is registered for classes. He has a dorm room. He has a post office box. He and my husband have clothes to wear to the football games. We bought those clothes at a nice store , The Locker Room, on the strip. They have adorable clothes for women. I picked a white top with a red elephant on the pocket. My husband insisted I try it on. The shop owner showed me all these cute, cute outfits with red seersucker skirts or black hounds tooth pants. He was so complimentary. He said his wife was 65 and wore all these outfits. My husband with his arms crossed over his chest, my son leaning over a display of clothes, and the shop owner were my judges regarding the outfits. I walked out in the first outfit. The shop owner gushes, my husband says I look flat and my neck looks skinny, and my son leans deeper into the clothes. I look in the mirror. Oh my God! A short, frumpy, plump woman stares back at me from the mirror. Where is my size 2 figure and glossy black hair? This is so not funny. The red elephants are so not cute. The seersucker stripes are not parallel. The hounds tooth is a distorted mass of mush. I keep trying on outfits. But that short, frumpy, plump lady keeps coming back. My husband keeps saying" no, no, no". The shop owner keeps saying "yes, yes, yes" and "What does he know about woman's clothes?" My son leans deeper into the clothes display hoping to be anywhere but here. I finally choose a boring loose, white linen top with a small red elephant on the pocket. The short, frumpy , plump lady looks a little less frumpy and plump. My husband nods yes. The shop owner nods a slow yes. The linen top isn't cheap but what about the matching drawstring pants? My son has his face buried in the clothes. As my husband paid I looked at pictures of people wearing their Alabama outfits. There was the shop owner's wife in an adorable, cute, cute outfit. She has not eaten a brownie since 1982.

Tuscaloosa

We are headed to Tuscaloosa, Alabama tomorrow for the son at home to register for classes and his orientation. He is staying in a dorm. My husband and I are staying in a dorm too. We might get to share a room since we are married. My husband started complaining about being in a dorm room. He was informed the dorm was $30.00/night and a hotel $125.00. That put a lid on that. Yesterday was the day I could register for Family Weekend with football tickets at University of Alabama. Yesterday was the day everyone could buy their season tickets to the games. This event began at 8:00 a.m. central time. I hopped right on with the rest of the Crimson Tide Cult at exactly 9:00 a.m. eastern time. There were so many people online for football tickets that Alabama's computer system went down. I did get my football tickets and hotel tickets before the major crash. I had to register this morning again for Family Weekend. Bad economy be damned in Tuscaloosa! The Crimson Tide followers aren't letting that interfere with their football season. My goal for having a child at University of Alabama is to be able to pronounce and spell Tuscaloosa (without spell check) by the time he graduates.
I am sorry if I confused anyone by the limo statement. Since I founded the Popular Girls and like to complain of fatigue and being puny, I get rides up the mountain. The Popular Girls refer to that as Diane's limo ride. Another car load of Popular Girls was supposed to drive ahead of our car with lights flashing. This would announce my arrival to Brevard. They forgot. They were in too big of a hurry to hit the shops in Brevard.
P.S. Jerry Mathers, the Beaver in Leave To Beaver, is 61 today. That is painful to think about. Almost as painful as the butterfly tattoos I saw Saturday.




.

Tattoos

The Popular Girl Retreat was too fun. My stomach aches from all the laughing. The weather was beautiful. The mountains were spectacular. I put a rose on my Granny's grave. I was glad to be home. I learned to spin yarn on a spinning wheel. My first published book will probably be an instructional spinning book. I am already an exceptional spinner. I was picked up at home by a limo. Being chauffeur driven allowed me to enjoy the sights coming up and back. On the trip up we passed a group of motorcycles in Shelby. One particular motorcycle caught my eye. The passenger was a middle aged woman. I don't think anyone told her she was middle aged. She wore a helmet,skin tight jeans, and a string bikini top. Her skin was tanned to shoe leather with sun damage spots all over her back. Folds and folds of belly fell over the jean waistband. Some time in her youth she had tattooed butterflies flying across her abdomen. With all the fat folds the tattoos looked like someone had dumped a butterfly jigsaw puzzle on her belly. There were just random parts of butterflies showing. A wing here, an antenna there, another wing up there - so many parts were hidden in folds. That is the reason I did not get that butterfly tattoo on my butt thirty years ago in Provincetown at the Cape.

Popular Girl Retreat

I won't be posting over the weekend. I will be at the Popular Girl's Retreat in Pisgah Forest, N. C. Pisgah Forest is between Brevard and Asheville, a beautiful place. One of the Popular Girls is lucky enough to live there and open up her home for the retreats." What is a Popular Girl Retreat?", you ask. First it is a gathering of Popular Girls. I started the retreats and hand picked each Popular Girl.The qualifications for a Popular Girl is to only talk to other Popular Girls, make sure all the nonpopular girls feel bad that they are not a Popular Girl, and to put out. All the girls I chose are married except for two. I assume the married ones are putting out . I have not recieved any complaints from their husbands. The other two have to be putting out or they can't remain a Popular Girl. I see my body every day in the mirror after my shower. I have to stay married. Without a husband I would have to pay to put out. And I must always remain a Popular Girl. At the retreats things are kept simple. After all we have all reached the highest point in life - we are popular. Therefore makeup is optional. Staying in your PJ's all day is cool. Showers and tooth brushing are mandatory as is wine drinking. Cooking is frowned upon. Takeout or delivery is cheered. Talking about all the unpopular girls is a must. Talking about a Popular Girl isn't okay unless she has been really, really mean. Lots and lots of laughter is essential.The sole reason for the retreat is knitting, playing in polymer clay, dying yarn, spinning yarn, needle felting, wet felting, beading or any thing else we can think of. Sometimes we leave the house for important things like a fiber festival, a yarn shop, a bead shop, or a quilt store. We do shop for important things like wine and chocolate. We ogle young men walking by. But we never approach or put out unless they own a farm with llamas, sheep, cashmere goats, or angora rabbits. We also approach or put out if they own a yarn store, quilt shop, bead shop, chocolate factory, or winery. We have higher standards than your average Popular Girl. Unfortunately some of my hand picked Popular Girls have never made a retreat. They have used flimsy excuses like childbirth, funerals, moving, and dance recitals. They are at present Sub Popular Girls. I haven't decided how long they will remain at that level before I demote them to Dangerously Close To Never Being A Popular Girl. Talk to you Monday.

Rap concert

My son in Atlanta attended T I 's final concert before he went to jail. Ti went to jail not my son. The concert was last Sunday. I didn't realize that my son liked rap. I didn't know who in the beejus TI was. I kept calling him T Pain. For some reason I knew the name T Pain. That must have come from my People magazine. Wanting to maintain communication with my son I read all about the concert. I assumed my son would wear bling and grills to the concert. I thought you wore grills like clip on earrings. On when you needed them,off when you didn't. The son at home corrected that assumption. You have grills permanently placed by a dentist. I don't think my dentist does grills so I didn't know that. The son in Atlanta said no he wasn't wearing bling or grills. I had a sigh of relief. I don't think our dental insurance covers grill placement. Anyway T I went to jail for buying unregistered machine guns. Was the crime for buying the machine guns or the fact they were unregistered? Until I confirm that I won't be flipping off people in traffic because they may have a registered machine gun in their glove box. T I brought all of his 5 children on stage at various points of the concert. I asked my son if the mother or mothers were there. He said he didn't see any. Maybe there wasn't enough room on the stage for all the mothers and the kids and T I and the band. I think rappers have a band don't they? T I is 28 so maybe a year in jail will be good for slowing down his baby making. T I has won Grammys. At first I called them Emmys but the son in Atlanta said" Grammys ,Mom". I can't get a word in edgewise when I get him on the phone. Soulja Boy was at the concert too. He is a young rapper, maybe 18. I don't know if he has won any Emmys or Grammys. I will ask my son in our next phone conversation. I do know that I can't get the song - "Soldier Boy , oh my little Soldier Boy , I love you" - out of my head. I don't think that is where Soulja Boy got his name but the song is great to sing in the shower.

First Post

I am a writer. That feels good to say. I have written in my head and on paper all my life. I have several short stories and an unfinished book in my closet in a basket. My health is not good and I realize I am not going to live forever. I don't want my children finding my basket when I 'm gone and saying, "Why did she not finish this book ?" I bought a Writer's Guide edition from Writer's Digest Monday. It suggested starting a blog to help increase your writing output. So here it is in all of it's fine glory. You will have to wait for pictures. I need one of my children to help me with that. I will take notes so I will be able to post pictures myself. I hope to blog here and write my books in Word everyday that I can. I plan to blog about whatever is in my head at the time. That might be dangerous. My head gets filled with all kinds of stuff. I get a subscription to People so I know lots more than your average person. I DVR Saturday Night Live and have a wealth of info from Seth Meyers. Most important I am married to a man who knows everything! Stayed tuned. Same time tomorrow from Cullie Chats about whats in her head.