Mistressville USA aka Dilworth

I just can't seem to escape the seamy side of life. Here I am minding my business being a normal trophy wife and all hell breaks loose. First I suffer through Rielle Hunter. I didn't read her book and please don't tell me if you did. Now another "author" alias mistress has surfaced in Charlotte. She lives one mile from Rielle in Dilworth. The news last night said Dilworth is now known as Mistressville USA. If it makes property values drop maybe I can afford a condo there. Anyway Paula Broadwell is the new "other woman" in Charlotte. Her biography of General Petraeus was truly an intimate portrayal of him. What a way for her to increase sales. She should have talked to Monica Lewinski first to see how she has fared. Bill Clinton is the man behind Barrack. Monica is the woman behind a rock. Things are going to get real nasty quick for Paula. You don't mess with the CIA and the FBI at the same time. Her body might be discovered behind that ugly ass statue at the entrance to the airport. You know the one I'm talking about. The one that mysteriously appeared before the DNC. Funny Charlotte spent all that money to get the DNC. We wanted to be seen nationally. Well we are way national now and the DNC had nothing to do with it. I am refusing all phone calls from Paula. I am a trophy wife. I have an image to maintain. As my PawPaw would say " You made your bed. Now lay in it!"

Hair Do's

Headed for a haircut today. Which brings me to the subject for today's post. Over the year's I have had some bad hair do's. There is just no doubt about it. Mainly because I tried to look like someone famous. I had the Farrah do in the 70's. In the 80's I leaned toward Linda Evans. The 90's was the bob like all of America. Now of course it is gray and short. I did try Sharon Osborne and Posh Spice with no luck. When I die my tombstone will say "Here lies a woman with a lifetime of bad hair do's."

Hello

Back by popular demand from all my fans. I can give you tons of reasons while I haven't blogged in over a year. Suffice to say - the lungs got in the way. Or maybe facebook, pinterest, google, television , or the most hated - exercise. Yesterday was beyond exciting. I spent all day at the Duke Medical Center. The research department is doing a drug study for Sjogren's Syndrome. Since this is one of my diseases I was there to be screened for the study. Screening means if I meet all the criteria I am in the drug study. Already the fact my white blood cell count is in the crapper is a negative. I arrived at 7:45 am. I spent the night in Greensboro with the husband in his "home away from home", the Embassy Suites. Being the romantic souls we are,we ate pizza in the room and were asleep by 8pm. Why I am explaining my night before is that to arrive at Duke by 7:45 from Charlotte would mean leaving at 4:45 am. Spending the night with the husband meant leaving at 6:30 am. During my time at Duke I had vital signs taken, blood drawn, consents signed, a chest x-ray,a pulmonary function test, a physical exam, an eye exam, a salivary test, and lots of paperwork. I left at 2:00 pm starving. I stopped at the Hardee's drive-thru in Hillsborough. There I consumed a small fry, a 1/4 thickburger and a medium coke. I ordered a diet coke. I even asked the girl in the drive-thru if it was diet. She said yes. I tasted it and thought maybe it was diet. By the time I hit Mebane I knew it was coke. I was so pissed but drank it anyway. I arrived back in Charlotte before 5:00 traffic. I took out the dogs. I got rid of all that coke I drank. I checked all my social media. That sounds so grown-up. Then I sat my fat ass in my Lazy - Boy recliner and turned on the television. I watched Foyles War and The Voice. For supper I consumed 4 Reece's Peanut Butter Cups and a bottle of a dry red wine.

Trophy Wife

I have made a career change. With the poor economic status of our country I know lots of people have made career changes. Mine came about more from health issues. I can't believe it took me so long to make this move. I am now a trophy wife. I don't work. I don't do housework.I don't cook. I have a personal trainer. I spend lots of time at our country club. I do lunch with friends. I travel with my husband on his business trips. I spent lots of time shopping for clothes to wear on these business trips. I have shoes I still haven't worn. I don't play golf or tennis but plan to have an affair with either a tennis coach or golf coach at the club. That is the beauty of not playing either sport. I can choose which coach I prefer without feeling any loyalty to either sport. The husband is out of town most of each week. If I am not with him I spend my time devoted to me. In fact every day is devoted to me.I do attempt to look nice when the husband comes home. Only because I want him to take me out to dinner. My new career is so successful I may teach classes to other women about pursuing this option.

Picture at the Country Club

When my daughter was born I was determined to be the best mother ever! Her childhood would be the best ever! Her diet would be the best ever! Her education would be the best ever! Then my boys arrived and I vowed even harder to raise each child the best I could! All three would have a super childhood and super mom. Well you know how long that lasted. Before I knew it all three were in school and in every after school activity known to man. Things got expensive and money got tight real fast. My butt was back working full time.The logistics of working and hauling children around was a nightmare! After completing my work day I called the children while driving home. Each child was given instructions on what to wear and what equipment to have. Then depending on the time of each activity determined what child stood in the driveway at what time. I whipped in the driveway and grabbed whatever child stood there. I usually knew where to take them by the uniform on their back. Although there were times I took them to the wrong place or the right place at the wrong time. After dropping off the first child I would return for another until each child had been taken and picked up where they needed to be. Sometime in the melee I drove through the closest fast food for their dinner. During swim season all three had the same stop, the pool at our country club. I must admit I got slack when all three were in one place. One particular trip for swim team practice was such an example. I had made the phone call to be in swimsuits with towels in the driveway because I was almost home. All three children in bathing suits with towels in the driveway when I pulled up. I was Super Mom no doubt about it. We arrived at the country club in the nick of time without a speeding ticket or major meltdown. Unbeknownst to me or if I did know I filed it somewhere deep in my brain, that day was swim team practise and swim team pictures. Each child was to wear the official swim team bathing suit for that particular season. So fifty plus children stood in matching suits except one. My daughter had worn her swimsuit from last year. You would not believe the outraged looks the country club moms gave me. What kind of mother allowed her child to come for swim team pictures in last year's bathing suit? Not a Super Mom that was for sure. Swim team pictures were made. No mom police arrived. Flash forward twelve years. All three children are not too damaged from their childhood. The country club remodeled the pool. Now it is like being at a resort. The grill has a nice face lift too. Someone had the clever idea to hang pictures of random blown up portions of swim teams over the years. Unfortunately for me my daughter is featured in one of the photos. She and a group of girls with big smiles showing off their braces. Each girl in the appropriate swimsuit for the season except my daughter. I try to wear my biggest hat and my sunglasses every time I enter the grill. I know there are discussions about the photo with the girl in the wrong swimsuit. All I can say is being a super mom is way overrated!

Dragging the Trailor

I lived in a trailer until I was around five. My parents acted like white trash most of my childhood. Which I feels explains this trailer I have been dragging behind me all my adult life. Depending on where I am going and who I am with depends on how hard it is to get that trailer in. I look back on times in my life that I pushed and pulled to make that trailer fit into some place I felt I had to be a part of. Usually after all that work I was pretty disappointed to be there.When we moved to Charlotte the husband got a country club membership. Talking about getting my trailer through! At that time most club members my age belonged to the club because their daddy paid for their membership. So the clique was tight and my trailer became a double wide. A few years ago to survive the economic times the club expanded their membership. There is a more realistic representation of the world at the club today. I see overweight people, people of different color and nationality, and most importantly people like the husband and I who accomplished their success on their own laurels. I am at the club frequently and I am not pulling that double wide behind me. Instead my trailer is a sleek custom built RV to rival any Nascar drivers. I know the reason for the trailer switch is more my own attitude regarding myself. I am 54 and more comfortable in my skin. I accept my trailer will always be behind me. And the places I want to be my trailer glides easily behind me.

Bodies at the Pool

Swimming and exercising at the pool has been part of my summer routine. With so many visits I have seen some people often. This brings me to my topic - bodies at the pool.The first time I saw this woman I thought she was terminally ill. Now after several viewings I know she is terminal because she doesn't eat. She is about 5'6'' or so but likes to walk around the pool in wedge slides. Sometime in her life she got grapefruit boobs as a gift. I believe they were a gift because I think she only held a job long enough to get a paying husband. She is tanned and blonde. The blonde is heavily aided by a bottle. There are small children that she attentively watches. With her tanned body and walks around the pool she is an eye catcher. But once your eye is caught your mouth drops open. She is painfully thin. When she bends her arms her elbows become pointed weapons. You want to put a sign around her neck " Caution - Sharps Objects!". Her arms and legs are bones and muscles twined together with no fat in sight. The skin is taut but that only serves to allow better views of her skeletal structure. The days she wears a bikini you can admire her jutting hip bones and concave stomach. Yesterday in a one piece I was treated to her developing dowager's hump. The irony of all this is you know she thinks she is attractive. Why else does she strut around the pool in those wedges? Every time I see her now I want to hog tie her to a chair and stuff fried chicken down her throat. Yesterday I had a big slice of blueberry pie to help her out.