Fine... I Confess

I posted back in June that due to my new fitness challenge that I would be giving up *read: seriously cutting back* on my coffee consumption. Well, I have to confess… I held strong for so long, only allowing myself two small little styrofoam cups in the morning, but I can’t take it anymore.

I am an addict, I love it, and I can’t get enough. There, I said it. Taking deep breaths… yesterday I was picking up a salad from Panera and someone in front of me was picking up their Grande French Vanilla Latte and I had to seriously stop myself from running a football style interception. Actually, the only thing that stopped me is the fact that it wasn’t a to go cup and I knew the delicious hot liquid would spill out onto my arms and burn me and my strappy sandals aren’t really conducive to “fast feet” plays.

I have done so well with all other aspects of the challenge, I haven’t cheated, I have attended every single ever lovin class, I have pushed myself to a level 10 day in and day out… But, last Sunday I caved and bought a can of coffee from the store, a can that is now empty. I am not even messing around with having to stop at Starbucks, I need that brewing ability at my fingertips.

If loving that cup of amazingness is wrong, than I don’t even want to be right.

Recognizing It Is Step One.

I had a teacher in 7th grade that was a serious A-Hole. No joke… He was so mean and angry. I blame it on the fact that he was really fat and old, never married and never had kids. I am willing to bet that if he lost some weight and got a date he would be a happier person. Not to say that fat, single people can’t be happy… moreover, he might be happier with himself if he lost some weight and sharing his life with someone might ease whatever internal angst he had… But, I digress, that is completely not the point of this post.

Although he was a complete A-Hole, he happened to occasionally share little nuggets of wisdom, some of which I still think about today. One of my favorite things was when he would say in front of the whole class, usually when I was up at the board trying to work a problem… “Charlie, why do you insist on walking around the barn instead of just walking in???” At the time my internal response would be, “Mr. Rodgers, why do you insist on making me want to kick your big fat ass???”, but now as an adult, I have to realize that this statement sometimes still rings true.

For example, I started a new job about 5 months ago and when I did I trained with a lady that worked at the front of the office, therefore used the front office copier/fax machine/etc. My office, however, is in the back. Now, before you go thinking that I can’t figure out how to use basic office equipment, I can… but things are networked and bla bla bla and it isn’t quite as black and white as it seems. So, in the meantime, every time I need to fax something, make labels, scan something to myself… instead of going about 20 feet to my own equipment, I have to go all the way to front of the office. And, each time I do, I hear stupid ass Mr. Rodgers. Why I don’t take 5 minutes to figure out my own stuff? Because, I walk around the barn… It’s what I do.

I feel like realizing this about myself is the first step though…

Let's Make A Deal

Why do guys always win money at a casino and I never do! Do they teach gambling in boys P.E.? You would think after being put in boys P.E. year after year *why do you think I added the girl to Charlie-girl* I would know that!

I suppose the most obvious answer to this question is that I am probably not going to win big on penny slots... I have to play the real stuff.

I have come up with a plan though... and I have to admit, I am pretty much a genius on this one. Ok, boys, we are taking a road trip to the casino. I will give you $20 and if you lose, then you not only got to hang out with me all night and gamble with someone else's money, you only have to give me $15 back! But, if you win... we will split 70/30! Horray! Not to point out the obvious... but just in case, I am the majority winner. Um, duh.

It is a total win/win if you ask me.

I am a big fan of "Work smarter, not harder" and consider this a fantastic excercise in outsourcing!

Who's in?!?!?!

Unrealistic Reality

I think the Bachelorette is stupid. Yep. I said it.

How realistic is having 20 great looking, intelligent guys fighting for your affection? How realistic is being sequestered from any and all would be competition and distractions? I am pretty sure that when I meet a guy out, production isn't waiting to whisk us away to an all expense paid trip to Romanceville!

Duh! Of course she is going to fall in love!

Trying to figure out how meet someone in a social environment that isn't too hammered to have a coherent (and remembered) conversation; waiting for the person to call or more realistically these days... text you for a date; going on said date and not thinking in your head that the guy is a total douchebag; meeting his friends and not thinking they are total douchebags; having him meet your friends and making sure that he can fit in with your group well enough to continue seeing him and on and on and on.... that is real life.

Oh yeah... and while I am clearly fired up about this stupid show... What guy gets his pick of huge-o gigantic engagement rings for free!

And, that is all I have to say about that.

Weekend Picture Shares

Muscles and me at this past weekends wedding.

Muscles' friends girl. Love, love, loved her... plus, she used to live in New York City which practically makes me want to be obsessed.

His Resume Reads....

...Did Study Abroad in China. Became leader of Pygmy tribe.

Random Friday Tid-Bits

1.) My pants that used to fit (Snugly) are way too big (Yah!). I look super sloppy and it is making me walk like a slug (Boo;().

2.) I went to see Bruno last night and I felt like I should have been covering my eyes during a lot of it and I kept thinking that Sasha Baron Cohen’s beautiful girlfriend (wife?) and new baby were going to have to see it and he should probably be really embarrassed.

3.) I went to kickboxing this morning and on my way out I had to promise two coaches that it wasn’t because I intended on “going out” tonight… I love that they hold me accountable.

4.) I am a serious blog stalker… like, compared to real stalking, I am practically the equivalent of looking through their trash after they take it out. I know… I should be ashamed. When I am in a conversation and I refer to something “my friend” said and that friend is some person in New York City that I have never even met, I realize that I need to reel it in. I would tell you my fav’s, but I don’t want you reading theirs and realizing how dumb mine is… ignorance is bliss!

5.) Have you ever had a moment at work when you felt like Isla Fisher (Sasha B-C’s poor girl) in Confessions of a Shopaholic when she starts working for a financial management company and she is sitting at her desk and googles “What is Financial Management”… Yep. Didn’t think so. Me neither.

A Letter To Llama - Birthday Week - Day 5

From the days when Kristopher and I would both fall asleep in your lap during early Easter morning service and you would be forced to walk around with two big drool stains on your dress; picking us up from school, taking us to the penny candy store, then to see the pugs and pinchers, and saving us from random animals that escaped around the woods of the zoo; bike/jog a thons and school carnivals; Amy Grant concerts; glamour shot parties for all my little girl friends; taking me to countless Equal Access events; French braids and horrible poodle perms; proms, boys and broken hearts; learning how to drive, how to be responsible with my money, how to be professional; big decisions; moves out of state and lots of tears; the lowest points of brokenness and the highest points of pride… You were there through all of it.

On your birthday I hope you can look back on your life... your amazing love story and the way you captured and continue to hold dads heart, all the ways you have given of yourself relentlessly and whole heartedly, the lessons you have taught each of your children that molded us into strong, capable individuals... and know that you are our center.

I Love you, mamma. Have a wonderful birthday!

Llama Goes On A Cruise - Birthday Week - Day 4

*In case you are just joining us, this week is my mamma's b-day week. Yes, we celebrate weeks in my family. So, in honor of her big day, this week has featured fun little posts directly related to her. Enjoy and we will return to regularly scheduled posting next week.*

One of the very best vacations I have ever taken was on cruise with my mom. She had never been on a cruise before and we had never taken a big trip, just the two of us. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with vacation stories, because everyone knows vacation stories are like grandkid pictures…. The only person that gives a shit is the person that is telling or showing. Oh, you know I’m right. But, I will tell you a few fun facts that I learned about my mom during this trip.

She is the best wingman I have ever had. She shamelessly doted on me to any man (or woman) that came within a ten foot radius of her. Mothers always think their kids are the smartest and most attractive, and my mom was no different… But she not only wanted everyone to know it, she wanted them to appreciate it and act accordingly. Perhaps my self confidence before that trip was a little fragile and her intentions were to change that, and her goal was certainly accomplished.

She is fearless… and perhaps a little crazy. We rented jet skis one day and after reading the contract and the clause that disclosed the damage fee of $100 per inch of damage, I was taking things a bit slow. Not crazy ass… she was flying through the ocean like she hadn’t gone a day in life without being on a jet ski; she was even racing the locals. When we went on our sting ray adventure, she was the first one in the water, shuffling her feet through the sea of deadly creatures with abandon . And, on the snorkeling tour, do you think she stayed with the group? No. she had to into the darker, deeper water because that is where the good stuff was.

She is as dramatic as I am. We were so incredibly hung over one day that we couldn’t leave our room. We had ourselves convinced we had gotten a deadly cruise ship virus and probably needed to be quarantined. So, we called the nurse to explain our systems, of course. The nurse said we needed to drink water, take ibuprofen and sleep it off.

She is very hygienic. After about seven apple martinis and a trip the bathroom, she thought that I hadn’t washed my hands. So, in a football style take down, she tackled me back into the bathroom to make sure I had properly cleansed myself. After a second washing to clean the spilled alcohol off my arms, I was able to leave the bathroom without incident. She meant well.

Happy Birthday Week, Llam.

Random Llamas - Birthday Week - Day 3

1. If I am away from my mom for too long, I forget what she looks like. I mean, I could pick her out in a crowd, but when I try to remember particular features, all I see is fuzziness. We have discussed this, she is fully aware.

2. My mom was so mad at me one time because she thought I stole her panty hose because all of my had holes in them… but really, I just hadn’t looked in my own drawer before I asked for hers. So, when I did look and I found a pair, she of course accused me of stealing. I think she still thinks I stole ‘em, but I swear I didn’t.

3. Having a babysitter when I was a kid was the best thing ever, because I never got to have one… so it was like a special treat. I think that says a lot about my mamma and how much she was there for me.

4. When I was on the dance squad we had to do this move where you just drop to the floor. You are standing there and then fall face first into a push up position. I know, pretty damn stupid right?! Well, I practiced this move at home as much as I could… by as much as I could I mean about one time, because I ended up bruising my chin and quit. So, when the time came to do the dance in front of the crowd at that basketball game, and I fell with terror in my face, and glided into the cheerleaders in front of me…. My mamma was there. Laughing at me. Really, really hard.

5. My mom and I stayed up all night with her Shar-Pei trying to deliver the puppies. We ended up having to take her to an emergency vet for a C-Section at some un-godly hour… While they performed the procedure my mom and I slept on the waiting room floor. Looking back on the situation, I can’t imagine what was on that floor… but at the time, we didn’t care, because we were so exhausted from making sure Prissy would be ok. That night would have been miserable, had we not been together.

It'll Take Some Getting Used To

In my last office I was in a completely separate wing of the building, all by myself. It was like going into the office on a Saturday, when everything was quiet and you were able to just crank through stuff… except that was my every day. I loved it for awhile and then I started to get bored. Afterall, we spend a lot of time at work and you need a certain amount of interaction throughout the day or you might start to go crazy. And, when you are all alone you start to get relaxed about things like… say…farting… and then next thing you know your body forgets to hold back when you are in public because it doesn’t normally need to. Not that that happened to me when I was grocery shopping…. I was just giving you an example.

In my new office, I am right in the thick of things. My desk is directly off the kitchen, so I hear all of that commotion, and the cube walls are equivalent to holding up a Kleenex between the desks. This is a huge problem for me because I have major noise pet peeves. I think I would rather get shot in the arm with a paint gun than have to hear eating and drinking noises. Now, I know you think that sounds dramatic, but I am completely serious. The first bite my neighbor takes of an apple and I want to put my head in the drawer and promptly shut it. Hard. I silently yell in the direction of other desks, hands flailing, regularly throughout the day. “You better not blow another damn bubble!”. “Cut your apple up and take smaller bites, you sound like a horse!”. “Do you have to laugh for the world to hear!?! We get it, you are happy-now shut the hell up!”.

I have tried earplugs, but it makes my head feel like the air is being closed in and my head is going to explode. Please refrain from obvious airhead jokes, here. I have tried my IPod, but after a while my ear cartilage starts to get sore.

I guess I am just going to have to get used to it or start taking spreadsheets to the bathroom stall… people are usually pretty quiet in there and tend to not take in food.

Help A Sista Out

Dear Co-Workers:

When you see me walking around the office with the back of my dress unzipped, because I apparently didn’t get it all the way zipped when I tanned at lunch, can you please tap me of the shoulder and let me know.

Walking around the office with my dress unzipped completely negates the serious/professional/smart image I am portraying in my head.

Thank you,

Charlie-girl.

P.S. I don't really wear formal dresses to work as the picture would imply.

P.S.S. Hey boys... next time your flies are unzipped, my lips are sealed.

Two Thumbs Down

Did anyone watch Dating In The Dark on ABC last night?? The premise of the show is that three girls are introduced to three guys in a pitch black environment, so they are forced to get to know each other on a mental and emotional level, rather than immediately discounting them for the way they look or the fact that you aren’t immediately attracted to the person.

They do a group meeting at first and then are told separately, based on chemistry and personality tests, to whom they would be most suited. From that point they are each given an opportunity to have individual dates, again, in a completely pitch black environment. During these dates you can talk, touch each other to gauge what the other looks likes, kiss… whatever you feel inclined to do.

After these individual dates they brought in sketch artist and each person had to describe what they envisioned the person of the opposite sex to look like. Surprisingly, the guys perception of the girls were pretty dead on, but the girls were way off. They made the guys look way better looking than they actually were... I think the girls were liking what they had so far in regards to conversation and personality and they were just wishful thinking.

Then comes the reveal. The couples went back in the pitch black room and each person was illuminated for the other to see. The person being revealed could not see the reaction of the other. This is when it got sad. Clearly the girls had each really like the guys up to that point, but as soon as they were revealed and you could see that they weren’t really attractive, the disappointment on their faces couldn’t be hidden. The guys on the other hand were elated; they literally were high fiving and doing shots. Meanwhile, the girls were also drinking, but for a non celebratory reason.

At the end of the show each person got to decide if they wanted to meet the other person out on the balcony to potentially move forward with the other person, keeping in mind that each couple really did connect on an emotional and personal level, but none of the couples connected on a physical level. THANK GOD two of the couples chose to meet and move forward… because the one couple that didn’t made me so sad! I couldn’t have handled more than one. The guy was so excited and thought that his girl was so hot. And, there he stood on the balcony just waiting for her…. Finally, he saw her leaving out the front door with her luggage, clearly ending this little ABC reality adventure. Can you imagine a rejection like that?! You put yourself out there, you completely connect with someone, you kiss and laugh and have a good time… but they see you and you are not attractive enough to actually date?! And, you did it on National Television!

At first I was so mad at the girl for being so shallow… but if I am being honest with myself, than I need to admit that I have done similar things… and even more honest with myself, guys have probably discounted me because I am not attractive enough…

Man, that show made me mad. Dating is stupid.

Singing Llama - Birthday Week - Day 2

When I was little my mom used to sing me this song:

Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you Charlie is near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Charlieeeeeeee.

Why do stars fall down from the sky
Every time Charlie walks by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Charlieeeeeeee.

*This second verse I don’t really remember hearing. She must have forgotten that one.

On the day that Charlie was born
The angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in her hair of gold
And starlight in her eyes of blue.

That is why all the boys in town
Follow you all around.
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Charlieeeeeeee.

On the day that Charlie was born
The angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in her hair of gold
And starlight in her eyes of blue.

That is why all the boys in town
Follow you all around.
Just like me, they long to be
Close to Charlieeeeeeee.
Just like me (Just like me)
They long to be
Close to Charlieeeeeeee.

As an adult I realize that my mom is completely and hopelessly tone deaf. She is type of singer, God bless her little heart, that ear plugs are made for.

But as a child, there wasn’t anything prettier than hearing my mamma sing my song.

I truly, a hundred percent believed that she wrote that song for me. Seriously. It was not until 2005, when I was riding in the back of an old boyfriend’s parents car driving through a State Park in Door County that I heard that song. At first I was pissed that she duped me into believing she wrote it! But, I forgave her and just sat in the back of the car and silently cried… because I missed her, and my song.

Happy Birthday Week, Mamma!!

Two Kinds of Women

I have a lot to say today. Clearly I do, because this is my third post. I blame it on the weekend, I must still be feeling a little randy from the weekend.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. According to my friend* Steve Harvey, there are two kinds of woman in the world.

Sports Fish and Keepers. Allow me to explain.

Sports Fish: The thrill of the catch is so much fun. You might have to work hard to reel the fish in, but once you get it out examine how good it looks, maybe take a few pictures, show it to a few friends, you just throw it back in the water and catch something else.

Keepers: The catch is just as exciting and as with the sports fish you have to work hard to reel the fish in. But, this time, you decide to take it home, clean it, cook it, and put it on your plate. It was good enough for that kind of effort.

Sometimes I want to be the Sports Fish. I’m just saying. But, in my head, you don’t throw me back in, I wiggle around a lot and finally escape out of your stupid dirty little fisherman hands.

Current perception of recent time spent wanting to be a keeper: 70% **
Current perception of recent time spent wanting to be a Sports fish: 30%**

*not really a friend at all, in fact I don’t even know him
**Percentages fluctuate weekly. No, daily. Actual could be minute to minute.

Llama's Birthday Week Celebration

This week is my mom’s birthday week. Hooray! I won’t tell you how old she is going to be, but she isn’t quite 50 and a little older than 48.

In honor of her birthday week, I will be sharing great little things about her leading up to the big day.

Day one: My parents made a huge sacrifice when I was younger and sent my brother and me to private Christian school. I didn’t quite grasp what a huge sacrifice this truly was until I had bills to pay and financial obligations of my own and found out what average tuition was… Every time I think about it, I still am shocked. (I recognize this, mom and dad, and am so thankful… and I could go on and on, but this is about mom’s b-day, remember, so remind me to get back to that at a later date.)

Anyway, back on track, so I had to wear a dress to school and one of my very biggest fears in life was that I was going to get out of the car and my dress would be stuck in my unders. Each and every day, my mamma would drop me off tell me she loved me and tell me that my dress was down and that I looked pretty. Every day. She never acted like I was crazy or got annoyed with my frantically grabbing at my butt day after day… she just was a mamma.

Happy Birthday Week!

Boys Day

Apparently inner girl cup started to overflow a little bit with all the “me” time and spa party activities, so I had to counter it with a boys day on Friday. Rather than sleep in on my day off, I got up bright and damn early to go to Kickboxing then went home and got ready for my 1:00 Tee Time with my great friend Red. Red is seriously one of the funniest guys ever and I knew I would be in for a great time… right up until he told us that two other people had been assigned our tee time, then I was just worried. Primarily because I have only golfed one other time in my whole life, and while I am perfectly prepared to look like a jack ass in front of Red, I wasn’t prepared to do so in front of strangers. Nor did I think they wanted me to hold up their game with my (multiple) attempts at hitting the ball off the tee.

Luckily, the other two were so nice and made it perfectly clear to me that they had all the time in the world and they would be patient. And, while there were definitely times when I looked like a complete moron, it took me several true effort attempts to make contact with the ball, I almost broke my wrist when contact was made with grass about three inches behind the ball, and certain situations warranted me just picking the ball up and throwing it in the general direction of the green… I didn’t do too bad. In fact, I made an incredibly long putt in one attempt and I not only got the ball over the pond thingy when all three of the other boys couldn’t (Seriously… six balls were lost in attempts) I got it directly in the putting area. First try. No. Really, I swear.

During our little golf outing, of course we were drinking and drinking with Red also means doing shots… in the middle of the day. In fact, I will admit the aforementioned “Killed it” shot was completely driven by the fact that the next stop was clubhouse before the back nine and I had to pee so bad I would have swam across the pond to put my ball on the green at that point. And, as we all know once you go once, you will find yourself having to go non stop and this particular course had only two porta-potties. One on hole 4 and one on about… um the twelfth, maybe. I don’t quite remember. Luckily, being the smart chick I am, I had the presence of mind to grab some toilet paper from the second one just in case I needed to excuse myself to the weeds at any point. And, thank goodness I did, because that is precisely what happened. Being the lady that I am, though, I took the cart to find a far away, people-free weed zone and on my way my toilet paper flew out of the cart. Well of course it did, because things like that just happen to me. It couldn’t have been an empty beer can or something…. I am sure I looked really cool driving around erratically chasing toilet paper through the golf course, all the while laughing my ass off… partly because I am not above laughing at myself and partly because… well, Red got me drunk.

Finally, we wrapped up the golf outting and headed back downtown because Red had a work thing to go to. Prior to this, I had called my other great friend Muscles to meet me downtown to drive my drunk ass home (from the bathroom stall of course… I can’t let Red think I couldn’t hang). So, Red headed to work and I headed to meet Muscles. Unbeknownst to Muscles, I wasn’t quite ready to head right home though… I was having way to much fun, so I convinced him to have a beer with me. Then, I convinced him to go to another bar and have a beer with me… Then another! Then, Muscles made me quit, because if we continued, we would both need a ride home. It is good to have friends in my life that keep me in check.

Muscles bartends at night on the weekends, so he had to be at work. Thank goodness since I clearly thought I needed to continue my little party of one, on the way back to our side of town my two other guy friends, IT and Finance called and invited me to beer/cigar/Entourage re-runs night in their garage-man cave. So, instead of Muscles dropping me off at home he was nice enough to take me to the man cave.

By the time my guys day ended, I was exausted. Golfing, drinking beer, peeing outside, smoking cigars…. I was worn out.

Even the next day, when I was getting my pedicure, I was still tired!

Spa Night

I went to a friend’s house last night for a spa party. Let me first tell you that I hate those kinds of parties. If I really want something, I will go to the store and buy it or I will order it from the 800 number conveniently displayed across the tv screen at 3 AM. I do not like being “sold” on something that I didn’t even know I really wanted and couldn’t live without. The only reason why people even have those parties is because they got roped into attending one for a friend and the person selling convinced them that if they have their own party they will get tons of free goods. They in turn dupe their friends into coming to their party and it happens to somebody else… it is a vicious circle. The only party that I don’t hate going to is the Tastfully Simple parties… for obvious tasting reasons and the fact that it is good stuff you really can’t just go buy in a store. Ok, really it is just the tasting.

So, first things first, we learned to think of our skin as grapes, raisins, and cornflakes. What’s that, you think this sounds dumb?? No shit, you should have been sitting there with me getting the live version. When we are young our skin is fresh and supple like that of a grape, then we get wrinkles and dark circles (raisins), and eventually we become dried up old corn flakes (Apparently, this stage happens around age 30). Maybe this lady isn’t going to “sell” us on stuff, she is going to make us so disgusted with ourselves we shamelessly purchase all her crap so we are able to go out in public?! So, we all had to gather around the sink and wash our faces to begin the process of de-cornflaking. One of the final steps in this process was a micro-bead sloughing cream. I was just scrubbing away waiting for my turn at the sink… and waiting… and sloughing… and waiting… and slouphing… Finally my face started to burn, because apparently I had sloughed my way to the grapes. I think the lady could tell I was beginning to feel some pain and calming told me that I could quit sloughing. Lady, you just told me that I was one foot in the cereal grave and you expect me to stop sloughing now… when I have a chance to use all these deliciously free products… uh uh, not a chance! Luckily by then the sink opened up, so I was able to sooth my burning skin and move past my urge to seize the moment in this skin-tervention.

Next up, more slouphing. Yay! Thankfully, it was of the lips and not my cheeks. So, all of us girls sat around in a circle waiting for the copious amounts of white cream to dry on our lips. We looked lovely. By “we looked lovely”, I mean “we looked like a bunch of jackasses”. After we chipped the dried cream along with our lip skin onto our spa towel, we had to slather more cream to replenish the moisture. I was beginning to feel greasy at this point. Then when the lady looked at me with huge, expectant eyes and asked, “And, how do your lips feel?!?!”, to which I blankly replied, “Little.”, we had to move onto a different treatment, because I think she was annoyed.

By this time all the girls, who for the most part didn’t know each other, were becoming more comfortable and in the grand tradition of girls, a little giggly. Yeah, that’s right boys… I just used the word “giggly”! The host of the party recently developed a cold sore on her lip and we all had a lot to say about her “Herp”. And, as you can imagine, Herp jokes are always funny. The seller lady just wasn’t have it. She wanted us to pay attention and she wanted us to pay attention NOW! So, the next stop on our spa treatment train was the aroma therapy/hand massage treatment and she was adamant that not only could we not use the word “Herp” again, as soon as she put the aromatic spa towel on our faces we had to keep our mouths shut. Bitch, I am a grown ass woman… If I want to say Herp, I will say Herp… If I want to laugh and over slough my face and announce that I have little lips, I will do that too! One by one she put the towels on our faces as we were sprawled out across our hosts living room. I did take a little offense when she said she was going to skip over two of the girls to put the towels over mine and another girls face to speed up the “as soon as I put the aromatic spa towel on your face you have to keep your mouths shut” command….

But my disdain for this BeautyControl product pushing dictator was quickly dispelled when the hand massages began. As I laid there on the floor of my new Herp afflicted friend listening to the spa music CD, smelling my aromatic peppermint towel, enjoying the fact that this bossypants was not only massaging my hands but that she was doing so when I had no intentions of buying her products, I couldn’t help but to enjoy myself.

Consumer Report: Books

The Playground by Jennifer Saginor: This book seems to suck you right in and not let you put it down. Probably because it talks a lot about sex, drug abuse, and nakedness… none of which are boring subjects. This book made me look at Hollywood and the “goings on” there in a completely different light. I am a huge fan of Perez Hilton, a celebrity blogger, who outs people on a regular basis for their drug abuse, hook ups, and hard partying ways… but to hear names of older stars that have since been out of the spotlight for their partying tendencies, is interesting. Further, to hear firsthand accounts of major crimes and illegal situations that have been pushed under the rug is fascinating…in a “I can’t believe that went on”, not “Wow, I wish I could pull stuff like that off”, kind of way.

Pros: Please see above… that kind of stuff is entertaining. At least to me. And, it is an easy read. I also find the back story very interesting and plan on doing a little more digging to find out just what the backlash was of the book being published. My suspicions were confirmed when I read an post-published interview Jennifer did when she mentioned that the book very nearly didn’t get published because of the implications of what was written and who it would affect.

Cons: I personally think that Jennifer places all the culpability for negative situations that happened in her life on other people. Her parents, her lovers, etc. To me, she didn’t accept any responsibility for decisions she made, relationships she pursued, and actions that all contributed to the life she had. It should be noted, that my mom completely disagrees with me… but this isn’t her blog, now is it! I get it, she was without proper discipline and guidelines and she was exposed to things as a child, that I myself have never even been exposed to as an adult. However… she grew up and gained the ability to distinguish between right and wrong. Certain scenarios could have been avoided. That’s all I am saying.

Suggested Read? Yes. If you don’t mind nudity, explicit sexual encounters, cursing, drug abuse, etc. etc. etc.

Love The One You’re With by Emily Giffin: This book is also a very, very easy read. But, not because you feel like you need to read it really fast because it kind of feels like you are doing something wrong like the book listed above. It is just a totally girly love story that you fall into and don’t really want to put down. Basically the main character has to decide between her current husband and a past relationship, who she thinks may have been the love of her life. I am sure you can imagine the scene… The husband is safe and steady and the old love of her life (or as I would call him… her lobster) is sexy and deep and adventurous (in a big city, cultured sort of way… Not in a hiking/hunting/white water rafting sort of way).

Pros: Good story and as the title suggests, it makes you love the one your with. (Unless you are like me and aren’t “with” anyone… then you just kind of feel like you need to make out with someone… and that is never a good feeling when there is no one around!) Also, the book had a great comment in it… at least I think it is in this book... I have been doing a lot of reading lately… It talked about saying the word “Love” as a verb. When I say I love them, it means something that I will do and I will do it unconditionally. Verbs are action, they need work and practice. As does love. I like that.

Cons: Again, I am not “with” anyone… so all this lovey dovey crap just made me kind of mad. Further, her situation with her husband, moreover his family, bore an incredibly striking resemblance to a past relationship situation I have been in and that also made me kind of mad. And sick. And thankful, I suppose. But I digress.

Suggested Read: Yes… as a matter of fact, this is the book I chose for my book club to read. More on that later.

You Need Your Mouth Washed Out With Soap, Young Man!

My lunchtime park hideaway was invaded again today by two little boys and their Nanny. The nanny was about 16 years old and I am only giving her that much credit, because she was driving the two little snotrockets.

As I was sitting there enjoying my book, I heard the bigger boy yell out to the smaller boy, "I'M GONNA FIGHT THE CRAP OUT OF YOU!" To which the smaller boy replied, "I'M GONNA FUCK YOUR BUTT OPEN!!"

Their Nanny, having clearly heard the whole exchange, continued to file her nails.

I laughed, because when little kids cuss it is always funny... and then I thanked the Lord that neither one of those punks were my child!

Internalize

Here is an interesting *read: crazy* fact about me: When I do something a lot, I begin to internalize it into my brain and then project it onto everything I do. While that doesn’t sound too crazy yet… just wait for this little example. When I was 19 ish, I was receptionist for a Software Company and on slow days I would play Solitaire… After a solid day of Solitaire, when I went home to cook something for dinner I would first have to tell my brain that the hamburger was red and the grill was black and therefore, the hamburger could be laid on the grill. See, crazy. This also happened when I got sucked into Tetris. Before I could sit something down on a table, I would have to consider the shape of the object and whether or not it would complete my line.

Recently, I have been reading a lot. And, I have found that my internalizing issue has began to rear its ugly head. After I get done reading, as I go about my life and perform normal daily activities my mind starts this stupid ass internal dialog as if my life is the book.

I get up to continue laundry yesterday and my brain says, “Standing up, wearily from staying out a bit to late before, she heads to the laundry room…..”

As I was getting dressed: “Feeling refreshed, having showered and put on her favorite Coconut body cream, she grabs her favorite, perfectly worn in jeans…..”

Very clearly, I need a hobby. Preferably one with a lot of variation in activity.

Delicious Little Evening

It is a little funny to me when I post things about "Girls Night" and "Private Me Time"... Because, my life is seemingly a perpetual cycle of girls nights and private me time! But, I think that is perfectly OK right now. I know that there will come a time when *should I admit it?* I will be ready to become a momma and I will be ready to share my time with someone else. But, until that day comes, I plan on enjoying me.

Last night after work I got a pedicure, and there was nobody else at the salon, so the girl actually took her time and did a really great job. While I sat and enjoyed the massage chair, I read a great book. The pedicure ended, but I wasn't quite ready to leave yet... I had nothing pressing to go to, after all, so I sat there and continued to get massaged and read my book. It was only until I realized that all the workers were staring at me, apparently waiting for me to leave, did I vacate my massage thrown and pay my bill.

Then, there is a Cafe/Cinema in an older part of Des Moines that I have always wanted to go to a movie at, but had never made it happen... So, last night I went and I LOVED it! Primarily because I saw a great movie and *drumroll* they made my cup of coffee with a coffee diffuser!!! (I know what you are thinking... that I gave up coffee, except for my two delicious dixie cups in the morning... But, I drank it black and it could have been way worse. Movie popcorn, hello!?) The only other time in my life I have had this freshly brewed amazingness if when I went to Xenia, Illinois with my family. Apparently, when you live in a pole barn, you do things a little differently, but in regards to coffee, much better. Xenia, Illinois was also the scene of a horrific incident with me and horse... but I will save that for another day.

After the movie, I drove around downtown Des Moines for no apparent reason and with no agenda... it was just a great night for a drive.

Those kind of nights are the very best kind of nights.

What's Yours!?

I was walking through a little boutique shop here in town one Saturday and I stumbled across a “StoryPeople” . They are so cute and some of them say the greatest things. My very most favorite one said, “I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.” I think that is so amazingly beautiful, it took my breath away… unfortunately, the price tag also took my breath away so I did what any good cheap ass would do… I wrote down the saying on a pad of paper (or perhaps a random receipt in my purse) and left!

What would your StoryPeople say?!

Here are a few StoryPeople of mine….

“I really can’t think of much else better than a glass of White Zin, tons of coffee flavored candles lit through my apartment, a Sade CD and Nakedness.”

“If I am going to be in the car for more than an hour, plan on me not having a voice when I get to my destination…. Because I have just put on a very great concert for an enthusiastic audience of me.”

“I will ask for and listen to the advice my friends give me… And I will know they are my true friends, when they still love me even though I did whatever I wanted anyway...”

“She said, “Why?”, he said, “I just don’t.”. Her spirit wasn’t broken though, because she knew lots of people did.”

My Little Secret

I would like to tell you how great of a weekend I had with my friends and family; how great it was to not only be able to take a long drive with my brother, for no real reason, but to also get a lesson in how to change a tire… something that no one else has taken the time to make me learn; tell you how amazingly beautiful my little sister is and how even though my little brother pretends like he doesn’t like me… he really does and how I love him right back. I would like to tell you how great my momma looks and how seeing her confidence in the little sundress she was wearing made me so happy for her and how no matter how grown and independent I get my daddy will always be my daddy and I will always be his “girl”.

But I won’t… because I don’t want to make you all jealous of the weekend I had.

Habitual Violator

I have an update on this Mr. Nasty. I wish I was kidding, but I am not. This morning I was behind him at the lights and again, in his mirror, I saw him diggin. He needs to wash his hands and get help. In that order.

She Got 'Em From Her Mamma!

When I was little my mom and dad had me in dance and tumbling classes. For some reason, when trying my best to perform whatever task the instructor was having us do, my tongue would just creep on out of my mouth.

I am not sure why exactly, because I wasn’t intentionally sticking my tongue out… it was just something that happened. I can unequivocally assure you, though, that oral activity did not in any way help me master my round-off.

I believe there is even home video of me, in a purple leotard, somersault-ing my way down a mat, while my mom instructed me (loudly) from the sidelines to stick my tongue back in my mouth.

Well, now that I am an adult and more aware of what my tongue is doing, it stays in my mouth where it belongs. But, I have found that I have picked up a different, far less attractive, concentration tic. It seems as though the harder I concentrate or push myself, the more my lips just seem to disappear. I end up looking a lot like Fire Marshall Bill from In Living Color.

It is a good thing that I am not attracted to anyone I have class with, because it is a safe bet that feelings wouldn't be reciprocated.

Author's note: The title of this post is a reference to a song and in no way implicates my actual mother, who has an incredibly large set of lips......................;)

Lunch Plan Derailed

Every day during my lunch hour I go to a little playground/park near my office. I eat my lunch (packed each night before bed) and read part of whatever book I am currently on. It is my little escape in the day. I only take my phone so I can know what time I need to head back, but it stays on silent while I am there.

Today I got there at the normal time and went to my little picnic table and started my lunch, when the stupid landscapers pulled up. They all piled out and started unloading equipment. I wanted to yell out, “Um, excuse me, can you guys come back in an hour?! K, Thanks!”. But, there is a lot of ground to cover, so I figured they would be smart enough to work on the side opposite of where my picnic table was until I left. Nope. They weren’t.

They came right over to where I was sitting and fired up the mower! Grass was flying everywhere and the noise was ridiculous. So, begrudgingly I got up and went to my car. As I was walking over, the mower guy* stopped the cutting part and drove over to me to tell me he was really sorry he ruined my lunch. My first reaction was to tell him I was sorry I was going to have to pick grass out of my hair for the next hour and that he should have planned better… but it was nice of him to apologize and he was just doing his job… So I just smiled and said, “No problem”… I ate the rest of my lunch and read my book, enjoying the rest of my escape, in my car.

*Mower guy happened to be a ginger. For the record, I have nothing against gingers… as a matter of fact, they have a very special place in my heart… but, summer jobs that require extreme amounts of sun exposure should not be held by those fair skinned little angels.