AHEM! I'm kind of a big deal

I'm a guest blogger baby!

Yep. I received this very flattering  appeal  via my friend Scarlett's blog the other day. How cool is that? She is a fabulous diva and team blogger (or is it co-blogger?) with Scout, another fabulous diva, and they have a pretty darn awesome blog which you should definitely check out here:

http://wildandprecious1.blogspot.com/

But mostly you should click  here,  so you can see how funny and awesome my dearest JS is because he is the true star of my FIRST GUEST BLOG!

Photo credit: Jibjab.com

Special notes:

G Money:  I need you to simmer down now. I promise I'm working on Mexico. I put in 2.5 solid hours today. We're getting closer but Bella needs fine sweaters and squeakys (which means she makes me go to work) and Mama is trying too pay off her trip to Brazil... Add in a dose of beach withdrawal/ mainland depression, two more Steig Larson novels that needed reading... You get the idea. My day job/ book addiction is sorta getting in the way ;)

Bro 5-0:  There is a question for you at the end of my guest blog. I think a comment may be appropriate. It's time for you to come out of the shadows my fren.

All:  Smooches.

Update:  I have posted the original text below to appease Bro 5-0. Here it is:

Tales from JS' Hood

My dearest JS was raised in the frosty suburbs of Lansing, Michigan. (JS is my fian-hub, or hub-iance. Which rhymes nicely with Beyonce.) I’m pretty sure that it stays really cold there all year round from his accounts of childhood. Like, I don’t think they even have summer. When I think of Michigan, I can only think of car production and miserable cold because when asked about Michigan, JS just shivers a little, wrinkles his nose and says, “Eh. It’s cold. Lots of snow. If you don’t cover it up, it’ll freeze off.” Stuff like that.

Until now.

So I’m at the office the other day, finishing up with my last patient visit when I hear my phone vibrate in my pocket. I sneak a quick peak and I see a text from JS that reads, “Remind me to tell you about the story of the tentacles and testicles.” I couldn’t help but giggle and then I decided NOT to share that tasty little morsel with my patient. Although it was really tempting.

Fast forward: 2 days later. JS takes me out on a romantic dinner date to the Brick Oven where we split a dried cranberry, gorgonzola and greens salad (with candied pecans) and killed a large oven fired pizza all by ourselves. There may have also been a double coffee and tiramisu incident… But really, that’s beside the point.

Back to the point. So JS finally decided to explain about the tentacles and testicles. He said that when he was in the fourth grade his teacher, Kitty Hoke, had read a book to his fourth grade class about an octopus that attacks a ship, and then they were tested over the material. (Ms. Kitty was also a member of the infamous duo known as ‘Kitty and Steve with pigs on the bottom of their pool’) When trying to answer a question JS became confused because the answer he was looking for was not on his paper. He bravely approached Ms. Kitty’s desk and asked, “Ms. Kitty… Does an octopus have testicles?” To which she calmly replied with a stone cold straight face, “TENTACLES.” And then he walked himself back to his tiny desk and died of embarrassment, and I spat tea out of my nose. In the middle of a restaurant.

And then, he was off like a race horse jumping out of a starting gate.

“Did I ever tell you about the big boot, little foot story?” “Ummm… No.” So he told me that this one time, his brother and the neighbor kid had worked all day on making a rabbit loop, catching device. Like the kind that grabs you up by the leg. “You mean like a human snare?” I asked. “Well, yeah. But more like a brother snare.” So JS bravely volunteered to step into the loop as his big brother jumped from the tree, activating the pulley. “So I fly up into the air and I’m hanging by one leg swinging a little, and my other leg is all hanging down (insert finger and hand motions). And then my boot slips off because I’m all like FOUR and I’m wearing these big boots and I crash onto my head. Well it hurts a little, but I shake it off. You know, I don’t cry or anything. Well, right about the same time as I’m brushing myself off a neighbor lady sees the entire scene unfold. She races across the street screaming and dropping the F bomb and goes to knock on our front door. She was all like, “Do you have ANY idea what your kids have been UP TO!?” And my Dad was all like, “Yeah.” In his white undershirt eating his pop tarts. “Just watched the whole thing.”

“And then, this other time, I was out sledding with a friend and the street lights came on. Well, we were supposed to be home before the street lights came on. So I am FREAKING FLYING to get home and I’m zipped up in my snow suit. Those snow suits were really hard to get in and out of so if you had to go to the bathroom you would hold it for EVER. Like FOREVER and EVER (insert big crazy eyes). So I’m flying home and I had to go to the bathroom like REALLY bad. Like, I probably hadn’t peed all day and as I’m rounding the last corner my brother jumps out from behind a big bush and scared the piss right out of me.”

“One time, my brother thought it’d be awesome to tie our golden Labrador Retriever’s leash to my belt loop. Then he ran off and started calling the dog. Our dog dragged me for a few blocks before my belt loop finally gave way.”

Me: “Oh my God. Where you like running, or mostly bouncing on your face?”

“Well, I made a few good (swish, swish) fast strides before I started the face bouncing,” he motioned with his fingers like a little man running while simultaneously making the swish sounds.

Me: “Were you having fun?”

“NO. That was mostly terrifying. Not a lot of fun.”

So you know me and my brother were also in Karate, right? Well, the first day we show up to the Dojo and there’re a few high school girls, some other high school dudes and just a bunch of kids of all ages. My brother’s all playing it cool because he’s like 6 years older than me and I’m all decked out in my little karate gear. And then I see my friend John Hawkins standing in line. John and I were as giddy as a bunch of little school girls. Just basically losing our s-h-i-t all over the place. So John and I see each other and we run across the grass screaming. Like totally geeking -out and naturally we jump into each other’s arms. Like in the movies. So this became our little karate ritual. Sometimes we would collide so hard we’d fall to the ground still in each other’s arms. And then I’d go stand by my brother and Dad and my poor brother couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t related to me. I’m also pretty sure John had a perm. All the Hawkins had perms.”

“This other time, my brother and I were wrestling over the remote and I was wearing my head gear. Yeah, that didn’t go over too well. He pushed my head into the carpet so hard that my head gear was totally jammed and flipped over my upper lip. And then he had to put his foot on my chest to pry my headgear off of my face.”

“We were living in a condo once, for about 4 months on a private lake. My brother and I were swimming when these two couples took off all of their clothes and got in. We were really close but they didn’t see us because it was dark. So we swam real quiet, got out and went home. Then my brother dressed all in black, took a big flashlight and pretended to be lake security.”

“Also, when I was little, I remember collecting these little balls from the yard and thinking they were berries. I walked around all day with a handful of these freaking cool ass berries and I really wanted to know what they were. My brother promised to tell me what breed of awesome I had discovered if I did his chores for the day. So I finish up his chores and he tells me my new discovery was plain old Rabbit poop. POOP! I was kind of devastated.”

And the stories went on, and on….

...So now I know that Michigan is NOT just a frosty tundra with lots of excess snow. Now I realize Michigan is a land with multiple seasons. Seasons for gadgetry experimentation with the help of one’s little brother. Seasons for geeking-out in front of large crowds, skinny dipping, berry picking and more. But mostly I think of Michigan as the land of ill-behaved, unmonitored and sort of awesome hooligans.

I also think these tales would make a fabulous new version of ‘A Christmas Story.'

And I’m also supposed to ask Brother why you don’t try to climb a tree with gloves on…

Brother's Response:  Tree Climbing with Gloves

(a) you can get to the top of the tree just fine but when trying to navigate to the center of a huge limb approximately 30 feet off the ground, you will fall immediately to the earth. (b) you cannot go inside and request needed medical attention because you were told not to climb the tree with your gloves on. (c) therefore you must lay on the earth that you just crashed into for about an hour hoping to recover the feeling to your legs and some relief to your pain in silence, rather than listen to Big Mike give you the “I told you so, dumb ass lecture," over which I would rather choose death.

Ask JS about the time we threw tennis balls in the basement and the time we did laps around the house on a snow day.

Bro 5-0


JS' Response:

Tennis balls in the basement really equated to a cheap shot to the stones. (His.) Excellent mean big brother material. I think it's very fortunate I had no younger siblings as the guilt and the humor from all the past injustices would collide in an uncomfortable fashion inside of my body.

Snowy laps:
According to JS he and Big Brother had been stuck in the house for roughly a week without laying their eyes on civilization or the sun due to a really bad snow storm. 8 to 10 inches of snow kept the school buses from running. He states it was very likely the extreme boredom, the high sugar content in the cereal/ pop-tarts that were eaten for breakfast, and the fact that he and Brother had most likely been wearing the same housecoats and undies for most of that week that combined to make up the worst case of cabin fever EVER.

Picture the scene: A warm tub of bathwater was drawn just in case something went wrong. Housecoats were tossed to the floor. Big Brother was going through a bikini brief stage and young JS was still stuck wearing whitey tightys. Both boys were undoubtedly sporting 'the butt crack mullet' of the '80's. They shot outside into the snow and made a valiant effort to run a full lap around the house barefoot and NAKED except for the aforementioned undies.

After an initial determined sprint they made it to the corner of no return, which placed them in the direct path of the unsuspecting mailman. JS slammed on the brakes and Big Bro knocked him into the snow as they both back pedaled in a less than manly fashion (apparently there was a lot of girlie screams as well as some clawing and shoving). Surprisingly JS was not allowed to share the warm tub of bathwater but he obviously survived to fight another day ;)

Gator at the Wheel

image is from yogadestin.com

This morning, feeling awfully proud of myself because I managed to drag my moderately lazy carcass out of bed at 5:20 am on my day out of the office...  Found me halfway coffinated (it's a word, trust me) and behind the wheel headed to hot hotter than hell yoga. 

AND THEN

I had this moment.  Or twelve.  When I was thinking to myself, BEHIND THE WHEEL of my large object of mass destruction:  "Wow.  We're moving kind of fast."

It gets a little scarier... And then, almost simultaneously, "Who's driving?  Where am I?" 

Now, I'm starting to feel some of your judgey-ness, and I'm not liking it one bit.  We've all experienced that drive to the office/home/bar, when at some point you come to this sudden realization you have NO IDEA and ZERO recollection of how that entire event even transpired. 

What?  That's just me?  All right, that's it.  I've seriously got to put the kibosh on that tequila shot with my protein shake I drink every morning.  BUT IT'S PALEO!  Nope, it's off the menu.

ANY WHO, lucky for the strange fellow I saw killing the 3 pound arm weights and shaking his tail feathers in his smart blue spandex right smack down the shoulder of the road, Sweet Baby Jesus must have intervened and "taken the wheel" so to speak.  (Quit singing.  Pay attention.  I'm trying to wrap it up here.) 

Have no fear.  No squirrels, rabbits, dogs, deer, wildlife of any kind, or small blue men were harmed today.  (At least by me.)  Those troubling thoughts startled me into squinty eyed alertness and white knuckle suspicion.  I had to keep my peepers peeled for all those other crazy drivers. 

And now I leave you all with this message:

Namaste my friends, and keep it between the white lines.

You Can't Touch This!

Turn your volume WAY up so you can catch the music.  And the heavy panting.  These kids ROCK.  Notice that Baby Girl has already mastered  'drop it like it's hot'  AND  the  'pelvic gyration'  at 18 months of age.  You should be very jealous.  I know I am.  I can't WAIT to teach them 'The Gator,' which was lovingly created in Mexico after drinking just a smidgen of tequila.    

You go BABY GIRL!  With moves like that Baby K is going to make one heck of a cheerleader...  Or an excellent exotic dancer...  Just teasing.  Thanks be to the Sweet Baby Jesus that she has more rhythm than me and her Mama put together.  Amen.

The Thirty Best Things (Continued)

from emilyamygalleryblog.blogspot.com/

If you're wondering why I 'm starting my list at number 20...  It's because I'm an Aggie and obviously number 1 and number 20 are synonymous.  Just joshing. 

 If you're a little confused as to why I'm starting at 20, I will assume that you live in a cave underground without internet access, or pretend your life doesn't revolve around reading my super stellar posts, and thus you've somehow managed to miss the first 19 on my list.  For those of you 2 percenters, you can catch up here:

 http://gatortalesandeverydayramblings.blogspot.com/2010/09/big-3-0.html

Back to business. 

 The (other) 11 Best Things:

 20.  Pizza.  I like my pizza like I like my men.  HOT and covered in extra cheese please.  EW.  Now you can spend the rest of your day trying to erase that lovely image of JS from your mind.  You're welcome.  I also like my pizza (back to the pizza, people get your minds out of the gutter) covered in veggies, pepperoncini peppers, jalapenos, pepperoni, and marinara.  With a side of homemade ranch dressing and a Root Beer.  Thanks.


21.  Self-awareness.  I'm a toddler in this respect, so please beware your toes, shins and your feelings as I crash closer to something that resembles coordination. 


22.  Making the decision to be happy everyday.  Thirty is my MOST favorite age so far.  It seems ridiculous that it took me this long to realize I can DECIDE to be happy EVERY day.  I wake up in the mornings (except those for which I am hungover or constipated) and scroll through all the fun things that await me.  Coffee on the front porch with Bella.  A good JS kiss-growl to start my day.  A beautiful city to call home.  Avoiding any tiny tootsie roll land mines Bella may have deposited near my bedside.  A roof over my head and a toilet that flushes.  Hey, it's the little things folks.  Trust me when I say it's very hard to be in a good mood when you've got a GD tootsie roll squished between your toes.  OR you've come home from a long day at work and there's a dirty 'little' surprise waiting for you in the toilet because your fiance is still pretending she can't use a plunger.  I am SUCH a catch.  I'm also very thoughtful and have started leaving cautionary texts or notes like these:  "Sorry.  Toilet incident." or "I SWEAR I used the multiple flush method but it was to no avail."  My personal fave, "I'm sorry to say, it' a plunger day." 

 23.  Water features.  This includes River Festivus 0'10 and all future festivi.  Swimming pools, slip-n-slides, rivers, lakes, sunshine, tropical and local getaways.  Note:  Kiddie pools are NOT on this list.  If an industrious Aggie wanted to rig a slip-n-slide INTO a kiddie pool (although this does NOT sound chiropractic approved, it certainly sounds awesome) we may have a deal.   

 24.  Reconnecting with old friends.  The Tinsley 'Clam', Graddy 'n' Dubya, G, D (or Tiff), H 'n'  Nate, and B-ran 'n' Ant Dawg, just to name a few.  It's phenomenal fun seeing first hand our growth, 'maturity', and most importantly the silliness and laughter that we're able to share together.  Reminiscing and making hysterical memories with friends, new and old, ROCKS.  (Unfortunately some of the juicy bits can't be shared on a public forum that my family, Bro 5-0 and/or the CIA can read.  Just teasing.  I promise there's nothing fishy or illegal or remotely pornographic going on here.  I'm saving all the porn for the Mexico post.  Stay tuned.  As you were please.  MOVING ON.)


25.   Storytelling.  Oh how I LOVE to tell tall tales.  Blogging has been a supercalafragalistic way for me to channel my inner silliness and to record some frickin fantastic adventures.  


26.  Ketchup.  It makes good food great and bad food better.  'Nuff said.  I should sell that little marketing campaign to Heinz.  


27.  Good books and great blogs.  

Books: 

Chelsea Handler's 'Chelsea, Chelsea, Bang, Bang' and 'Are You There Vodka.'  Don't waste your money on her 'Horizontal Life.' 

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor's 'Sippy Cups Are Not For Chardonnay.' 

Brian Weiss M.D. 'Many Lives, Many Masters.' 

Lisa Lutz 'The Spellman Files' and all the sequels. 

Miriam Toews' 'The Flying Troutmans.' 

(Sadly) I really like the LAST book in Stephanie Meyer's 'Twilight' series.  I don't know it's title because it doesn't matter.  They all roll into one shameful blur.  I think I liked it the best because the first three sucked and yet I still couldn't put them down, (cue the spoiler and avert your eyes) but mostly because that damn Bella quits whining about wanting to become a vampire.  AND I'm team Jacob.  I like my boys beefy. 

If you can make it through the first several sloooowwwww chapters of Steig Larson's 'Girl With The Dragon Tattoo' and the gruesome bits, it was super entertaining.  If you like reading only during the full light of day, at the same time as trying to cover your eyes, (because that's some super scary shizzle) with all of your doors and windows locked and your attack chihuahua on post, you'll really like this book.  I'll update you as I read the rest.   

Silliness I enjoy reading online.  Disclaimer:  They're funny as F bomb so don't drink anything or have a full bladder while reading as spontaneous spitting and/or bladder leaking may occur. 

Palmation Nation
http://vanessaandsam.blogspot.com/2010/04/tale-of-two-piggies-actually-just-one.html

http://vanessaandsam.blogspot.com/2010/09/summer-recap-from-hell-just-kidding.html

http://vanessaandsam.blogspot.com/2010/06/pregnancy-beast-insanity.html       

Challosh
http://challisandjosh.blogspot.com/2010/03/going-rogue.html

http://challisandjosh.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-osh-and-tree-keys.html

http://challisandjosh.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-eggs-are-worth-butt-ton.html   


28.  Camping!  In JS's RV camper.  If you're looking for a tent camper I'm not you're girl.  I need a real bed and a shower.  Actually, the shower is negotiable because I'm sorta lazy.  So far, thanks be to the Sweet Baby Jesus, our camping has always included electricity, internet access and running water.  'Camping.'  That's how we roll.    


29.  Silliness.  I think I worked the first 28 years of my life on being far too serious.  And I say Boo to that!  As Leigh Standley of http://www.curlygirldesign.com/ says, "There is a direct correlation between the level of happiness in one's life and the amount of silliness they allow into it, " SHE SAID.  "I know..  I've done studies."  INDEED.  I will continue to do studies and I shall post my results as they become available.


30.  Attention.  Good, positive, loving attention.  (Ahem... Blog comments and such ;) 

THE BIG 3-0

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!  Right now I’m lounging lizard like on a beach in Mexico (unless it’s raining and then I will undoubtedly be table top dancing at the cabana bar) with several of my most favorite people in celebration of (dun, dun, DUN) the BIG 3-0.  I wrote this post in advance and scheduled it for today because I am fairly certain I won’t be able to cease shaking my tail feathers long enough to get this out, while on my SUPER DUPER Birthday vacation.


In honor of turning 30 (I am borrowing this idea from one of my most favorite bloggers) I am listing the 30 best things that have impacted my life.  (These are in no particular order seeing as its midnight the night before I fly to Mexico and I haven’t started packing, and we have to leave the house at 4 am….  AND it’s WAY too hard to differentiate between their levels of greatness.)


The Thirty Best Things


1. Being born!  Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have 30 years of wonderful experiences to draw from and you wouldn’t be reading this blog.


2. The day my Sister and I became friends.  It took a lot of convincing but she finally came around ;)  She is courageous, beautiful, kind, patient, tougher than nails, an excellent shopping guide as well as the best mother EVER.


3. Bella soul dog, poochie pants.  The love of my life.  I have some SERIOUS attachment issues with this dog.  I love her with all my being and it’s very hard most days not to squeeze her and hug her and kiss her tiny mouse face right off.


 4. All the days on which my nephews and my niece(s) were born.  (I’m keeping my fingers crossed for more)  I seriously LOVE being an Aunt.  I never knew the capacity my heart had for love until my first nephew was born. It’s overwhelming and ferocious and all consuming. It’s that 100% certainty that I would gladly step in front of a bus or a raging tiger and DESTROY them if they so much as thought about touching a tiny hair, on one of their tiny little heads.  I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!  Each of them is THE very best.


5. My dearest, wonderful JS and all the thoughtful things he does.  As much as I hate surprises, JS has mastered the art of FREAKING AWESOME surprises.  JS has helped me grow into a much better person and he has showed me the meaning of compromise, true love and patience.


 6. My Internship in Canada and the memories of the amazing summer I spent there.  Red squirrels, cottages on the river, kayaking, cross country courses and million dollar ponies.  I could totally get used to living like that.


 7. Graduating with a BS in Animal Science from Texas A&M. Longest 5 years of undergrad EVER.  This is also how I met JS and many of my best friends that I simply cannot imagine life without.


 8. Graduating with a Doctorate, the completion of THE most trying years of my life.  The highs, the lows, the tears, the weight gain (and then loss), the mental instability and the family I found there.


 9. Confetti horse.  In the 30+ years (and counting) of his life he has touched so many hearts and taught so many valuable lessons.  Humility, kindness, patience, forgiveness, courage, and love, are just a few I can name.  BEST horse EVER.


 10. My Life Coach, Nogie King.  http://sympaticocoach.blogspot.com/
With her help I am discovering all my inner strengths, digging at the dark scary bits, learning who I am and where I’m going next.


11. Starting and owning my own business.  My boss ROCKS!  (That’s me, in case you were wondering)  I’m so proud of myself for taking this leap of faith (again it would never have been possible without JS or Nogie) and for freaking MAKING it.  Boo YAH.


 12. Living in Austin, Texas.  There is absolutely not one thing wrong with Austin (For the sake of this post we are going to pretend I-35 does not exist and that we did not suffer through 30+ days last summer when the high was above 100F) and there are about 10 billion GREAT things to enjoy.  Bat watching, hiking, biking, shopping, eating, dancing, live music EVERYWHERE at all times, dirty hippies, art and films.  You name it we've got it.


13. Cheetos and Big Red eaten together.  Trust me.  (I’m a Doctor)  No, really…  They’re freaking AWESOME. 


14. Big Red Cake.  Although JS makes a mean version I’m pretty sure you can’t out bake the master.  The Warrior Princess’ Big Red Cake is to die for.  I’m drooling a little right now.  I’m totally making one (and I’m probably not going to share… unless Bella wants a tiny bite) when I get home from Mexico.  I wonder if I’m allowed to make special requests at this resort since I’m the birthday ‘girl’.  I’ll have to look into that…


15. Surprise Princess Parties.  For my 29th birthday JS surprised me by jumping out from behind the door when I came home from work, wearing only his under-roos, and clutching Bella closely to his chest.  He had laid out an entire princess themed spread, including a butterfly balloon, a tiara, a princess table cloth, a ribbon for my shirt and his AWESOME Big Red cake.  He also took me out to dinner with friends and proudly wore his tiara along with me.

 16. Surprise ponies for Christmas. There is simply no better present.  You can keep your diamonds because I want horses.  And hay.  And other horsey stuff.


 17. VACATIONS.  All of them.


 18. My family.  G, Crystal, Madre, Pops, Sister, JW and the munchkins.  All my aunts and uncles and cousins.  I am so thankful for each of you and all the fun we have together.  You guys are the best.


 19. JS’s family.  They’re the coolest, funniest smart people I know.  I love them so MUCH!



20. …..


To Be Continued at a later date.  JS has threatened to assassinate me if I don’t start packing immediately.  He said something about, he wants a few hours of sleep without me panic packing and shouting in the background, “Have you seen my swim suit!?”

Greener Pastures

Christmas 2005 I found myself with an intense bout of 'horse fever,' (read: I lost my mind over this beauty).  I was completing my first year of Doctor School, depressed OUT OF MY GOURD, and after shopping long and hard on the internet I had come to the conclusion that I would simply DIE of a broken heart if I couldn't have this horse.

JS received roughly 800 phone calls, emails and texts daily regarding my master plan and acquisition proposal.  The plan was simple.  Buy her for me, feed her for me and I would live happily ever after.  Ta Da!  I was convinced it was well contrived and a completely logical plan.

As I drove home from school between Dallas and College Station, after finishing 7 finals in 4 days (I was legally insane) I gave the horse broker a call.  She told me the horse had just been purchased and even the offer of more money (JS's, not mine) could not sway the outcome.  I sat on the shoulder of the road until the hysterics subsided enough for safe driving.

The next few hours were spent in a haze of shock and grief over losing something that I was SO CERTAIN would change my life in amazing and unexpected ways.  I punished JS with intense moping and spontaneous bouts of tears/ wailing.  When he had me fed and somewhat less homicidal, he packed me up against my will and dragged me out to the country.  

He told me he wanted to show me a friend's new bulldozer (WTF? Right?) and I did everything but jump from the truck as we made the 30 minute drive out there.  I wanted to know how looking at a piece of big ass machinery was going to fix my big ass broken heart.  When at last apathy set in, we completed the trip in silence.

When we parked in front of a huge open barn, the night was growing dusky.  JS had to pry my fingers from the trucks interior and threaten my well being to get me out of the vehicle.  As I made my resentful trek closer to the building JS began to babble about bulldozers and his potential need for one and some other stuff that was quickly drowned out by the sound of a horse's neigh. 

I froze in my tracks cursing my lack of night vision and looked to JS.  Although I couldn't tell what color the horse was as she peered out of the darkness, one look at JS's face told me all that I needed to know.  This was THE ONE.  (JS, for that matter AND the horse.)

When my heart resumed beating and I stopped my hysterical leaping and crying and general mauling of JS with joy, I got to finally meet my internet romance.   

Although she had the name of a stripper or a trailer park heroine  'April's Misty Halle Lu,'  'Halle' had a beautiful pedigree.  She was fiesty and gorgeous and eventually, with a lot of work, turned into a really decent polo pony.    

She had a way of looking at me with those big Doe Eyes that just melted my insides.  Halle had a knack for mesmerizing kiddos and for getting herself into trouble.  She was a really great horse friend.  

Lupita my love, you will always hold a special place in my heart and I will always wonder what could have been.  I will treasure your memory.  Thank you for touching my life with your bright spirit and your beauty.  As I imagine you standing knee deep in one of God's green pastures, I can see you your sweet face and you are happy.

 

'Lupita'
April's Misty Halle Lu

4/20/2001 - 9/11/2010

And Another Thing

After four days of Festivus I left my very sketchy looking retainer in a soap dish, in the communal bathroom...  Although it seemed like a good idea at the time  (surely I'll SEE IT THERE and remember to pick it up before I go)  to my dehydrated, completely hung-over and sleep deprived mind, clearly it was not.  I packed up my overnight bag, my skanky hat, 2 swimsuits, and an assortment of shoes and shorts I had scattered about...  And forgot my billion dollar, my orthodontist lives 2 hours away and he hasn't seen me in 10 years, toof gear.  Midnight on the Sunday post Festivus I shot off a panicked text to MKT, and a short two days later I was rewarded with this little beauty: 

  

Yes.  Yes it is. 

Yet, it's still quite effective.

I Wish I Had Been There

I found these photos on Facebook when one of my friends (the Kid) was tagged in an album.

And I am stealing them without permission because I'm lazy.

Now I post them unselfishly for your enjoyment at the risk of being sent to the pokey...  Or whatever happens to lazy photo thieves.  Feast your eyes on this collection of magnificence.

I think I peed myself a little.  I hope my 60th birthday bash is this friggin AWESOME.

River Festivus 2010

RF 0’10

Where does time go? No, seriously. “I’M BEING CEREAL!!!” WHERE does it go?

 Time continues to go speeding by no matter how much I want it to slow down.  This month I’ve felt just like I’ve been wearing a sassy pair of hot pink roller blades while barely managing to maintain a white knuckle grip on Time’s coat tails.  Luckily, Time decided to throw me a speed bump this past weekend with an unexpected four day holiday.

 Four day holiday, you ask?  Oh yes, yes indeed!  The Tinsley ‘Clam,’ my oldest and dearest friends, were kind enough to let me crash their 4th Annual River Festivus in Martindale, Texas on the San Marcos River.  I’m pretty sure they allowed me to tag along because  A) I’m a TERRIFIC dancer,  B) I’m a FABULOUS singer,  C) I’ve got a pretty great mobile crack shack service and  D) I’m not scared to get really silly, embelish some shizzle and provide unexpected entertainment.

 River Festivus 2010, hereafter referred to as RF 0’10, got off to a bitchin’ good time on a Wednesday with a Skeleton parade and wand waving birthday extravaganza.  Sadly I missed this event…  But luckily it was captured via film and its beauty can be treasured for all time.

All chil’ren participants were made to sign a River Festivus Contract which is so frickin AWESOME I think #4-9 shall become part of my daily manifesto.  Although #1-3 are admirable goals, I have no personal desire to refrain from eating other people’s food, to obey anyone over the age of 18, nor will I pretend to remember any of my annoying habits that you might want me to stop doing.  I shall however, substitute “life” for “RF ’10” and I WILL promise to have an awesome time.  I’m totally amazed at the brilliance of this contract. Kudos to you MKT.

I officially unofficially joined RF 0’10 Thursday when I met up with this rowdy bunch:

We headed straight for the marvelous waters with tubes in tow, where we unwittingly embarked on the longest float trip known to man.  The water was effing frigid, the sun roasty toasty and the cooler was very well stocked, thanks be to the Sweet Baby Jesus and or MKT. “Mmmm! I smell fried chicken! Is that you Tiny?”

 Floaters numbered 12 in total, intact non-leaky tubes numbered 10, and although it felt like we were out in the wilds for days, I think we completed our float in roughly 4 agonizing unforgettable hours.  Perhaps the fact that we started at noon without eating lunch, and tube lounging encourages ravenous hunger, contributed to the impatience that predominated the last hour and a half of our hairy little adventure.

The night before our never ending float, Tiny Tinsley, all hyped up on sugar from Dirty D’s magnificent washer cake and the lasting euphoria from the Skeleton Parade, decided to mash a little cake icing into Crazy J’s face.

  

 

 

Bad. BAD, HORRIBLE Idea.  The truly unfortunate bit was Crazy J’s retribution, which involved HOURS of poorly aimed mudslinging.  AND scary stick waving.  That man has an evil laugh.

As our tempers were growing shorter, floaters were abandoned in the slow eddies and at one point MGG Supernova, the guy with the coolers, was made to tow several non-paddlers through troubled waters.  When he came to the startling realization that he was the only person out of the 12 actually doing work, he taught us an important lesson by swimming away with coolers in tow.  I believe the lesson was:  Freeloaders will not be well liked and very often will find themselves thirsty…  Alas, all floaters somehow survived and after a marvelous dinner was feasted upon, everyone returned to merrymaking and once again friendships resumed.  The evening ended with much porch sitting and Washer Olympic watching.

There's a sausage/ taco joke missing here somewhere...

Friday found most RF 0’10 goers much too traumatized tired from the previous day’s float trip to gear up for another.  Thus we made a quick trip to Wal-Mart for night crawlers and supplies to make proper Hamster Buns.

The package claims to contain Hamster Buns.

Whilst driving into town for our wares we came upon a funeral procession after which Supernova regaled us with his Soap Box Preaching™.  It was well-worded and profound but since I can’t remember the exact deets, it basically boiled down to:  People should have a little more respect for the recently departed by pulling over, uncovering one’s head, and that it’s generally considered VERY poor form to blast past on the shoulder and or median to bypass the ‘inconvenient’ delay.  “For Goodness sake!  IMAGINE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL IF THAT WAS YOUR GRANDMA!!!”  Although I am unable to capture his twang and general peeved-ness, those that know him will totally get it.

All chores and sermons for the day completed, we returned home to the Reever for more ice cold beverages and to supervise the beautiful mud chil’ren swangin’ off a rope into the water. Our supervising consisted mostly of a stream of constant scolding for making too much joy splashing in our general direction.  Several Fesitvus goers also partook of the Rang Tang, an infamous vodka orange flavored beverage, which led to much singing, smooching, dancing and much less scolding.

Although this chick did not write a glowing review of the RT, you can learn more about its prowess here:  http://youreverydaysommelier.blogspot.com/2010/04/nasa-inspired-vodka-rangtang-vodka-from.html

Or you can look closely at the next set of photos to catch a glimpse of Rang Tang induced shennanigans.

Tiny strikes a pose for GI Joey

“I think you need some SMOOCHES!  Come here to me!  I want to give you smooches! MMMSmooch, smooch, smooch, smooch, smooch!”

Rang Tang Dance

Friday night found the entire group much more hung-over sedate after 2.5 days of living ‘the good life.’  One noted exception to river lethargy was our Wee Show Pony.  Treasures pile up a plenty along a flowing body of water and the Wee Show Pony found herself a magical star wand.  This led to a preponderance of fairy blessings and bedazzled dance moves.  The Wee Show Pony found no task too challenging and was solely responsible for getting her Uncle Supernova’s truck to start, with a well directed wand waving, fairy blessing session.

 For real...

Saturday started early with the excitement of visiting San Marcos’ famous gift shop named Paper Bear.  It was a magical wonderland of junk, jewels, stationary, books, gag gifts, greeting cards, candy, toys, and everything else you can’t possibly imagine until you’ve been there.  I managed to escape with only one birthday card, a piece of ABBA ZABBA candy and a gator key chain.  My fellow patrons picked up their own assortment of treasures and we all rode home listening to an enormous iron crucifix jingle jangling in the back of the car.

Unfortunately all good vacations must come to an end…  RF 0’10 wound down on Saturday evening with an extremely short float, by which I mean there was only enough time to drink 1.25 adult frosty beverages.  This was remedied with an evening filled with more river lounging, pool playing, general shooting of the shit and an awesome time had by all.  Thanks to the Tinsley-Gardner-Roberts Clam for all of these amazing memories and the promise to start that hot dog stand (again).

 

So if you need me…  Don’t call, just text.  I’m going to be VERY busy drawing up business plans for “Gator’s Riverside Crack Shack and Hot Dog Emporium- Now Serving Cheeto Chili Cheese Pies.”  WORD.

Classy Decor

Seeing as JS may NEVER get ‘round to hanging my Mexican décor that I painstakingly scored from the infamous flea market…..  Guess what you all are getting for Christmas!?


Now, now, no fighting!  I want my two biggest ‘Mexican flair’ fans to rest easy.  I promise to save the best pieces for both of you.  In fact, if you read their comments after the flea market blog you can see for yourselves they both were shouting for BIGGER, more COLORFUL, more GLORIUOS pottery.  Now ask yourself, who wouldn’t want a little bit of this action?

The Green Squirrel is particularly aggressive.  He's not a big fan of solicitation.  

Delicious Morsel

At the risk of being forbidden to babysit two of my most FAVORITE chil'ren ever again, I post this tasty little morsel. 

Honestly, I had to take control before JS thought to blackmail me with this sneaky bit of footage... 

Disclaimer:  The following is a clip of some silly shenanigans that Aunt Gator let the Punkins get into when Mom and Dad were out for the night.  I promise no wait staff or other patrons witnessed the following!  Please also notice, there were ZERO objections from the camera man.  

How a dessert SHOULD be eaten:

I'm almost certain I've seen Grandpa Ace use some of the same techniques.  I also think it's hysterical how Baby K is totally contemplating getting into the action.

Flea Market Friends

Madre called a few weeks ago and hinted that she was missing me and JS and somehow I tricked her into coming to stay with me.  Beginning three days prior to her arrival I received no less than 5 emails a day about our weekend itinerary and finally, she asked, could she bring her geriatric, cat hair shedding, couch hogging, Joe Dog?

 

Let me explain my reluctance… Joe Dog and I have a little bit of a history. Before I was a dog person Mom rescued Joe from his imminent euthanasia and we all fell in love with his gorgeous eyes and sleek black and white hide.  He was such a nice loving dog and you could tell he was oh, so grateful to have a nice loving home.

Then there were 'the dog sitting incidents.'  Not one but TWO separate incidents and probably more that I somehow managed to forget.  The first incident involved me opening the front door to a dark horrendous smell and a treacherously squishy footstep, right into diarrhea hell.  What’s a house/dog sitter to do?  Flee the scene, right?  An hour and 5 rolls of paper towels later, I had managed to clean the shit storm off of the walls and the ENTIRE stairwell.  Unfortunately, the carpet could not be saved… 

The second incident involved opening the front door, Joe Dog pushing me down to the ground and running over the top of my body with his comrade and fellow jerk dog Astro in tow, headed straight for the highway.  Against my better judgment I did manage to chase them down with my car, refrain from actually running them over and shamed them/scared them with threat of serious bodily injury into my car and back into the house.
 Nowadays, Joe Dog cruises around with a superior, super fat dog attitude AND since he’s getting old, Mom kicks me off the couch so the old man can rest in his favorite spot.  However, since Mom is the best hostess EVER and often agrees to dog sit both of my stinky, butt snuggling, sniveling (mostly Bella) baby dogs I could only answer yes. 

Wide Load

Joe Dog arrived Friday afternoon towing Madre behind him on a ski rope.  I’m not kidding.  He really has a ski rope.  I keep telling Mom we can get her some Wheelies and she’d be the coolest cat in town but she refuses, stating a previous injury while being walked by Joe that involved slippery shoes, a close encounter with a sidewalk, a Good Samaritan or maybe it was a Police man who observed the entire accident, and some serious road rash.  Whatev…  I still think she’d be cool.  Throw in a hot pink helmet with flames, matching elbow and knee guards and you have a recipe for EFFING AWESOMENESS. 

 So Joe Dog, first thing off the bat, purposefully stomps my toe and ruins my painstakingly self-applied pedicure.  Arrgh!  This earned him a big fat tranquilizer and a nice bed on my couch, in hopes he would settle down and lay still.  My Our greatest fear was to return home to find Joe had scratched thru my front door had wedged his HUGE dog body halfway thru the dog door, stuck there sadly until our return home.  But we didn’t worry long.  We made a hasty retreat and forgot our concerns over some delicious food and a shared Mexican Martini.

Saturday we were up early and off to a scrumptious breakfast at the Magnolia Café before we toured one of my patient’s beautiful gardens.  Excuse the iphone photos here and use your imaginations! 

 Purple House Window Box with Kitta Accoutrements

Blurry Flowers with Special Blurry Mexican Artwork

Water Feature with Neat Unidentifiable Things in Foreground

Mosquito Haven

Great Rug But I’m Getting Dizzy From Blood Loss

Inspired, we hit the Flea Market where we scored some amazing Mexican pottery to spice up our own homes and gardens.

Madres Mexican Pot

Hibiscus Inside Mexican Planter

Piglets Para Mi Madre

My Collection:

En Nombre de Padre e hijo y Espíritu Santo

Rana = el Frog-o

Ardilla Verde = Squirrel Green

Next stop on our carefully scheduled itinerary was the City Wide Garage Sale where Mom found some great linens.  After I spotted a pair of real glass eyeballs in a jewelry case, nicely mixed in with old wedding bands and ear rings, I sort of lost my shit cool.  I might have even startled a few fellow shoppers when I yelled out, “Tell me you aren't seriously going to buy that!?  Someone probably DIED on that quilt!”  Lucky for us, Mom only bought linens for table cloths.  Not to actually sleep on, but for eating purposes.  Awesome.

Bella Approves of the Linens

Linens in Action

JS demanded something magic at the garage sale but seeing how the crystal ball was out of our price range, I settled for a nifty Henna tattoo.  A bracelet so to speak.  Unfortunately, this week I had a hissy fit at the beginning of a very long, hate spiral type of day, and I tried to scrub it off in the shower.  Now it pretty much looks like I have leprosy.  Neat.

Day One

We finished our Saturday by taking my dogs to the vet.  Bella struggled for her life and ended up with two really awesome arm bandages covering her two really large hematomas.  She totally pranced outa that place looking like The Hulk wearing sweat bands.  I wanted to get pictures but I was afraid to leave the bandages on too long.  I’m not sure they make a wheelchair for little dogs that have lost both front limbs… 

Any who, Joe Dog survived multiple abandonments over the weekend, Mom and I had a spectacular visit and other than finding Joe hair in my food every once in awhile since they’ve left, there has been no lasting injury from Joe’s visit. I actually hope they still speak to me after this post will come back real soon!