Slip sliding away

I spent my first weekend alone in 15 years this past weekend. I know that sounds like a long time, because it has been. Granted I have been away on business trips alone, but I have always had trainings and dinners to attend. I have been on girl’s trips occasionally, but never all alone somewhere overnight. What gives this special meaning to me is the week leading up to the big trip, and how it showed me I needed to do this more often.




Monday – I lost a child and my purse for a harmless amount of time. Luckily it was an older kid and she was simply misplaced. Also lucked out on the purse as it was at the gym. The sad part was it took me about an hour to realize I had lost both.



Tuesday – I get called to the elementary school for a special parent teacher conference. I am thrilled we have been sending our son to a tutor for handwriting, since he was signing my name to some bad papers.



Wednesday – When I grow up and become rude and cranky I want to work at Hancocks. Evidently that’s where you go when you get old and pissy.



Thursday - I cannot run due to an injury, and it is making me crazy. If I were a meth addict I think I could better handle detox than not run. I have a lot on my mind and need to get out there, but instead I have to try other things. Other things like hot yoga (which I love), overeating, and being pissy like I work at Hancocks seem to help me pass the time.



Friday – I suddenly feel like I’m in a panic because I am afraid of going REDRUM up there all by myself for the weekend. I start thinking about how much time I devote to family and others and wonder if I am actually hurting everyone else by not taking care of myself. I start thinking about what on earth I will do when everyone leaves for college and I am all alone. Then I look at the clock and realize I have forgotten yet another kid. Not lost, just forgotten. And that is SOOOOOO much better.



I leave after yoga and haul ass to Mountain Harbor on Lake Ouachita. As soon as I check in I take a long hot shower and jump on the bed like I’m Pretty Woman and I’ve just landed a bunch of money and piano sex from Richard Gere for a week. I don’t turn on the TV. I don’t call anyone or get on facebook. I just close my eyes. I wake up four hours later shivering because I’m on top of the covers and still have wet hair. I get under the covers and pass out.



The next morning I do not wake up to an alarm, husband, or kid. No, I wake up at the ass crack of dawn all on my own. The one time I can sleep late I am wide awake. So I venture off to the little restaurant at the resort for what I am certain will be a quiet breakfast since it is the off season.



I walk into what looks like a screening for Magic Mike. Women are everywhere. I finally start to put two and two together and realize this is opening weekend of deer season. You can’t stir the slightly hungover middle aged women in here with a stick. I am reminded of my friend who is a mother to twin boys. She says that sometimes it is just so nice to have a weekend where no one wants to show you their wee wee. There is not a wee wee to be found in this place. I find a table in the corner and lose myself in my Kindle…..and open it up to a book about wee wees. (it was about men in general, but I have a strong suspicion they all have wee wees)



That afternoon I venture to the spa. I am so damn excited about being there I arrive 30 minutes early. After my face, hands, and feet are all polished and pretty, I sit by the little waterfall and wait for John. John is the man who will give me my fireside heated stone massage. Turns out John is smaller than me. I don’t think John is missing out on deer hunting or any other outdoor activity for that matter. I follow him to the room and wonder how he can work out any muscle in my body. When he starts to tell me the whole blablabla about how he will leave the room while I remove my robe and slip under the sheet, I throw the robe off and jump under the sheet sporting my lime green hanes her way briefs. Just tend to your rocks in that crock pot John. This ain’t my first rodeo. I AM READY.



I am so relaxed for the rest of the weekend I am in heaven. I slept that night all rolled up like a burrito. I was hot, but I loved every minute of it. You might think I learned a few think about myself or had some type of epiphany. I didn’t self evaluate for shit. I ate some great food, had a massage, and slept.



And I need to do that more often.

What I Have Learned Lately

1. I really do not need a purse. I can just carry my credit card, phone, and keys in my bra like the superskank in front of me in line at Wal Mart. When did this become appropriate? I have seen normal looking women do that too. Should I go up a cup size so I can put a pack of Kools in there too? A little sandwich for later? Ohhh, a Slim Jim in my cleavage so I can eat it without hands while driving! Safety first.



2. Spell check thinks superskank is not a word. I beg to differ.



3. I need to love my body. I have chunky thighs. This is no surprise to anyone including myself. When I run in my special running tights they make a very small swooshing sound. When running the other weekend and feeling kinda fat, I heard the LOUD sound of my thighs rubbing together. Over my headphones! I just wanted to give up. So I stopped…and the sound continued. It was someone raking leaves in their yard.



4. Do not take your car keys into a preschool when dressed as a tooth fairy. Three year olds can be ruthless with lines of questioning. Can you fly? Do you fly? Did you fly here? Why you only fly at night? Why do you have car keys if you can fly?????



And on a side note I take extra precautions to make sure they do not peak out the windows and see me pulling up in a car. I try to put on my costume somewhere else so they don’t see me changing into it in the parking lot. I used to do it in a gas station bathroom near by until the people in there started looking at me like I was some crazed fool thinking I was superman changing in a phone booth. I realize that in a tutu, wings, silver sparkly stilettos, and crown in Horatio, Arkansas I look more like a deranged whore than superman.



5. I may actually be a deranged whore, but I know what I am doing sometimes. I have learned that complete strangers who are twice my size will give me unsolicited advice on how to exercise and diet. As if I didn’t know that a quarter pounder and fries had more calories than spinach leaves. My dog knows that. I should do at least 30 minutes of cardio? Shit. I thought lying around and eating quarter pounders all day was how I got these racehorse legs.



6. Some women are mean. They are mean and disrespectful to their husbands. These women will stay married and become bitter while your sweet single girl friends are lonely and only want a husband to love. Kinda pisses me off.



7. Chewing out your husband over hamburger meat is not a good idea. I was pissed off about something else but decided to make a point over some ground beef, because that tactic ALWAYS works for you in the long run. Yep, you will get exactly what you want if you go mental over hamburger meat.



8. If your boss calls and is bringing over 10 boxes of your stuff so he can save you a trip, make sure you unlock the back door for him like he asked. Don’t forget. When you hear a constant knocking at the back door of the office 20 minutes later, don’t assume it is some lost drunk in the back of the building wanting to come in and kill you. Don’t continually ignore it….for like 10 minutes.



Good thing he didn’t have boxes of hamburger meat.



Thank you for reading my post, and I hope you feel a little better about yourself. 

Healthy Living I

I’m turning over a new leaf. Not really. I always try to be healthy, and think I do a good job of it at least a few hours a day. Like the hours I’m asleep.




A friend went to a nutritional seminar for a weekend and told me a little about the things she learned. I think moderation of all things is a good idea. I think getting rid of my gut is a wonderful idea. Anything to help the cause.



Healthy item number 1 – Coconut Water



After spending $80 at the health food store, I stocked my shelves with upgraded fish oil, melatonin, and a bunch of water. I thought it would taste like something that would remind me of the beach. Perhaps a Pina Colada even. It reminded me of what it would taste like to lick a waxed cardboard box, and that was just the tiny first sip.



While at a red light I decided to just be a real woman and take a big gulp – while holding my breath.



It was chunky.



I lost it. I am sure the person next to me at the red light thought the chic in the Mercedes was having a seizure. Maybe my body has a fear of drinking spoiled milk. I don’t know, but whatever I was expecting was NOT what I got. It is water for Pete’s sake. Who the hell has chunky water?



And I promise I don’t have a history of using the big bad white horse, but whatever makes me want to throw up in my mouth will come out my nose as well. I’m no ENT doctor but I don’t think that’s normal. Mind you, all of this occurred at a red light—in my dress clothes—on my way to a meeting. I was sweating, with chunky water on my shirt, and who knows what all around and in my nose. Everyone else in the meeting looked very professional. I looked like I was detoxing off heroine.



Turns out I purchased a fruit infused coconut water. Once I returned to my office I drank a plain bottle. Still not great, but sans chunky. I flat out refuse to chew my water. Did you know that coconut water is a diuretic? I didn’t really realize that until my second trip to the bathroom in less than 20 minutes. Yeah there were workmen in the office. The 5th time I went to the bathroom I noticed the workmen kind of looking at me and giggling. ARE YOU 10 YEARS OLD? IT’S WATER WEIGHT!!!!! I might offer them a nice drink of water the next time the do some more work.



I went home and ate 10 chessmen cookies. Up yours healthy.

thanks for reading, and I hope you feel a little better about yourself.

Into the Mystic

Things are not always as they appear. You know that feeling you get when your mind and eyes play tricks on you. Like when you are alone in the house and you walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night. For a split second you think, “Oh Shit there is a grizzly bear in the laundry room!”, then you realize it is a coat.




And really-what was going to be your plan of action if it had been a grizzly bear? They so often stand still like that in laundry rooms, so I bet you have time to get a gun or something. Kill him with the coffee creamer? Smack him unconscious with the cat food bag? The possibilities are endless.



Or when people hear one thing and completely miss the meaning. Our daughter had been experiencing an upset stomach for the past few mornings. We later learned that this was due to being worried about her gymnastics class. Seems there was a skill she was having problems mastering and had turned herself into a great big ball of stress over it. She was so worried about not being perfect that she made herself physically ill with worry. I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE SHE GETS THIS FROM. Anyway, she wanted to find another reason for her illness. Stomach virus? Sinus drainage? She even asked us if she had morning sickness. She’d heard about it, and thought maybe that was her problem. She is eight. We didn’t tell her all the details, but assured her she did not have the correct self-diagnosis.



As many of you know, Lacy and I take a yearly girls trip. This year we have decided to sneak away to my mother’s house. She lives on the beach in a beautiful condo. The condo is also an hour away from Orlando. All of this means Lacy and I are going to Universal Studios without our children. Mothers of the Year.



I called Nana last week to ask if we could add another friend to the trip. I was going to surprise her and let her know that one of my cousins was going to come on the trip. Here is the conversation –



Me – Can we bring another friend?

Nana – What kind of friend?

Me – A nice friend that doesn’t take up a lot of room???

Nana – I don’t think you and Lacy need to bring a male friend. I just wouldn’t approve.

Me – (complete shocked silence)

Nana – Just girls! Ya’ll don’t need to bring a man down here.



Well there goes our plan of clubbing some poor unsuspecting bastard in line at the Harry Potter ride and dragging him back to Nana’s condo. Damnit. I wonder if I kept that receipt for the chloroform? I’m taking that shit back.



I am sure nana was covering all her bases. We laughed about it later in the conversation. She never even let me call boys growing up at home. She thinks I’m going to bring some boy toy to her house? She sure has it wrong. I would never, under any circumstances, share a man with Lacy.



Thank you for reading, and I hope you feel better about yourself. At least you haven’t been “blocked” by your own mother……

Nakedness Again

My oldest daughter is now demanding that no one see her while she is changing clothes. I know she is growing up, but it seems a little odd to me. She went through a phase when she was two where she wanted to be naked all the time, including when I would answer the door of our house. The other kids are the same way. My son once showed his wee wee to the little girl next door – for no apparent reason. My youngest would kick her panties off and then scream, “I NAKED!”




They come by it honestly. I am a big fan of naked. My husband used to ask me what I wanted to do on a given night or weekend. My reply was always, “Get naked”. He eventually quit asking, but I do kick off my panties and scream, “I NAKED” on occasion.



On our honeymoon we stayed at a resort which had an optional nude beach. The resort also had weddings. Common sense would tell you the two should not go together. Evidently someone did not get that memo as there was a naked wedding while we were on our vacation. The entire wedding party (including the parents) wore nothing but a smile. To top it all off, these dumb sons a bitches took pictures. FAMILY pictures.



Too much of a good thing? I vote yes.



We all have certain experiences with nakedness which we would rather forget. Partial nakedness can be traumatic as well. I run down State Line Avenue quite often as it is a large road with good sidewalks. Many mornings I am the only person on those sidewalks, but there are a few homeless people walking up and down the street. On one such morning I was doing my usual run when I saw a homeless man coming toward me on the sidewalk. I had seen him many times before and we always wave as we pass. He was wearing his usual t-shirt and extremely large shorts held up by a belt. He is oblivious to the fact that his shorts are unzipped. Evidently he had also forgotten to add underwear to his ensemble. For those of you who have a hard time following along – this dude’s dick is in plain view and it is coming my way. My thoughts were as follows:



1. Well there is one mystery solved. It does all turn grey.

2. EEEEWWWWW.

3. Do not look it in the eye.



We passed each other on the sidewalk with no issues. I felt so embarrassed for him. I understand how it feels to humiliate yourself in public. But then I realized that guy doesn’t give a rats flying fat ass if he was partially naked. He eats out of dumpsters and craps in a ditch by the graveyard. He has bigger fish to fry. We all do. It is just nakedness.



Thank you for reading my post. I hope you feel a little better about yourself.

Say Hello to my Little Friend

What are friends for?




My daughter has recently asked me how many friends a person should have in their life. I told her 2-3 close ones, 5-6 people you talk to on occasion, and then other people you enjoy being around. In preparation for the next question, I have made up some rules on what constitutes a good friend. These are all true stories. I am on both sides of these, but I will let you decide which side….



A good friend will…….



Work out with you. She will ride a bike with you because you are learning how to do triathlons even though she says you both look like a couple of freaking Mormons riding all over town in a pair.



Put your bridesmaids dress on her credit card. 

Pick through your Clinique free gift for what she wants because she says half of it” isn’t your color” even though you both have the same color eyes and hair.



Not see you for 18 years and then say,” You mean you aren’t a lesbian? Huh, I thought I had you pegged. Just kidding.” Then you both proceed to die laughing and pick up right where you left off.



Help you wipe fingerprints from a car.



Remind you that, “Yeah you did get really big with that last pregnancy”.



Let you drink really cheap wine in her backyard after having your first child and listen to you talk about how miserable you are and then watch you throw up that cheap wine in her grass while still talking about your child’s constant clear runny nose.



Meet your family and tell you they are all just as bat shit crazy as you are.



Friend- “Come pick me up”

Me – “Where are you?”

Friend – “No clue. It’s an apartment complex. I’m hiding behind a sign.”

Me – “I’ll start driving around”

Friend – “Can you bring me some McDonalds? No. Wendy’s”

Me – “Do you need a change of clothes too? Geez”

Friend – “That would be helpful,yes”



Help you get in and out of Spanx.





Text you that she has found an enormous metal chicken for sale on the side of the road and wants to know if you will split it with her because it will make everyone jealous. You simply reply SOLD and you both hatch a plan to ratchet strap a 10 foot chicken to the roof of her suburban. You laugh about your AWESOME plan to put it in your mutual friend Katherine’s yard in the middle of the night. You don’t care that her house is on the market and a big metal chicken might upset her neighbors in the fancy neighborhood. You both know she will pee in her robe when she sees it. You both plan to put it all over town in friend’s yards under cover of darkness.



Then you find out the 10 foot metal chicken is $650 and you both say, “Screw that. No one is worth $650.”



Be waiting for you every time you come out of surgery. And then have the following conversation with you while you are loopy from anesthesia….



Me – “Hey there! How are you feeling?”

Friend – “Do I have in a catheter?”

Me – “Ummmmm, well uhhh, do you need some water?”

Friend – Check and see if I have a catheter!”

Me – “I see a bag with yellow pee. You really should drink more water.”

Friend – “I think it came out. Feels warm. Check!”

Me – “I DO NOT WANT TO LOOK AT YOUR MONKEY. I’m calling a nurse”

Friend – “I don’t want her to see that!”

Me – “You just had a hysterectomy!!!! You are worried about this now???”



And finally, a real friend will text you to let you know a blog needs to be published, because nothing makes her feel better than reading about you making a fool of yourself

Fifty Shades of Grey Review

Ok. So everyone is reading it. It is a book about sex. Different sex, but still just sex. Let’s just pick this apart bit by bit and I will tell you what I think.




The best part of this book is everyone’s reaction to it. I can honestly say there is nothing funnier than watching 20 women talk about this book at the Country Club after cocktails. NOTHING. Younger women make the comments like, “It turned me on, but the sex in it was just weird.” Older women say, “Weird sex? Who said weird sex? Hubs and I are reading this tonight!”



Others are just extremely quiet. They make facial expressions that mimic a dog in front of the TV. They are full of curiosity but cannot seem to find any words.



Or ladies who call them feng shui balls. Listen sister, there is definitely some ying and yang there but I do not think that is the name of them.



The next best part is listening to your friends attempting to figure out some of the positions. When you explain it to them they scream, “How do you know all this stuff? HUH? What have you been doing Missy? Does your mother know you understand these things????”



And yes my mother would be proud….of my reading comprehension. That’s it.



Some people say it is porn. It is written by a married woman. Please.



If Christian Grey was really named Frank Turner and worked as a butcher do you think anyone would read the book? Probably not. But I am willing to bet that Mrs. Frank Turner thinks he hung the moon, and would like the attention that is showered on Ana in the book. Every woman wants to be placed on a pedestal like Ana, and that is what really turns women on sexually. Some of us just would rather not be handcuffed to the pedestal.



I, personally, would endure a lot for a free personal trainer.



I did have one problem though. In that hotel room in Georgia…….. NOOOOOOOOO.

THAT IS NOT RIGHT. After reading that part I stood in my kitchen for a good 5 minutes before I picked up my jaw off the floor. And then I took a shower. A Silkwood shower.



Do not worry. This blog will not contain any details of the book. I am now on book two, and I am certain of one thing.



If I went to a party all “accessorized” like that, I would be hopping to the bar with my knees together.