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.

Tuff Enough

I tear shit up all the time.  Really, I do.  My Mother and husband have both told me the same thing in nicer words. 

At home I tend to stick with vacuum cleaners, small appliances, and the psyche of young children.  This blog will focus on what I tear up at work. 

This is what I tore up at my last job.  OK, this is ONE of the things I tore up at my last job. 

This was taken at the Christmas Party.  I had to get food out of my trunk, so I put my box of WWI items on the ground.  And I left them there.  Please notice that my front wheel is on the box in the picture.  That is because I backed over the box with the back AND front wheels.  That stuff survived a war, but not me. 

So I get a new job.....

And I proceed to scratch the SHIT out of the brand new conference table. 

I was getting many large boxes together for an event I was doing and happened to place one of those plastic tubs on the conference table in order to count the items inside it.  When I removed the tub....

You know when you have those horrible feelings in the pit of your stomach? Like when you realize someone you thought was your good friend was actually bothered by you and was just using you for what they wanted?  And then you think to yourself, "How could I have been so stupid?"

I felt like a complete and total idiot.  I've been using Q-tips and lemon oil to try to hide it.  I hope you can see it in the picture.  I see it every time I am within 20 feet of the damn thing. 

I am staying with some great friends this weekend.  Hope I don't burn the place down to the ground. 

Thank you for reading my blog, and I hope you feel better about yourself......

Fear

I love running in my neighborhood. That being said, I have some jacked up neighbors.

This morning I am running along my street in the predawn silence when I see a lighted attic window in one of the houses. Upon closer inspection I see an elderly couple dressed in clothes from the 1920’s. They are staring out the window while other white haired people are standing next to them. I try not to believe in ghost because it is not “biblical”. Neither is having a heart attack in the middle of the damn street.

That immediate stomach dropping/ gasping for air / piss yourself inducing/ legs turning to jello fear is a very real feeling in my life. I distinctly remember feeling it as a teenager once when I was sneaking back into my house only to see my father standing there waiting for me.

 On a side note, my father had four daughters. In front of all of our windows were huge thorny bushes. I became quite the acrobat while training my body to arch around the thorns in order to go hang out with my friends. Seriously, I was doing some Cirque du Soleil shit. Take that Jim.

I have plenty of fear in my life. I fear my children might have a life altering accident and I will wish the rest of my life it had happened to me. I fear running out of money. I fear that people hate me. Hell, I fear I might catch one of those freaky diseases that cause you to have those huge skin tags all over your face and body. Like that guy on the Discovery Channel that looks like a circus act with the huge swelling and flaps. I guess I am afraid I might wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say, “Well Shit”.

I am also good at conquering my fears. Swimming, flying, talking to people I do not know, eating oysters, zip lining, and letting people touch my feet just to name a few. I also have anxiety due to my fears. I have learned to use trust and belief as a way to conquer these daily fears and to relieve my stress. I also take medication.

I know it is my deep spiritual beliefs that kept me from chewing out those neighbors for putting mannequins in their attic. This morning I screamed, “Jesus!” Not because I was taking the Lord’s name in vain, but because I was in serious need of him to show up. As in there was only one pair of footprints in the sand because I WAS CARRYING YOU!!!!!!

If I do ever go down there and give them a piece of my mind it will not be pretty. It will be one pair of daisy dukes and a tube top short of House Wives of Miller County. I will be about 6 beers in and I might even bring Lacy. And Caroline….

Looks like I have plans for tonight!