November Showers

Ok... more baby stuff I have to share.

Today my sister and friend, Fachaitte had a baby shower for our little jewel and we had such a good time! We got a ton of neat things plus loads of cute cute little clothes! We got a bicycle trailer and a gymnasium for her to play in/on/with, plus diapers and wipes and booger suckers, and blankets and toys and pacifiers. We got quite a bit to help take care of our new little joy.

The centerpiece for the snack table was a diaper cake (non-edible). How cute is this!?!??


You can never have too many diapers and wipes! THANK YOU!!!


Such fun times...


Circe sent a pink camo outfit!!! *kisses* Circe! Thank you!! That was so sweet!!!


My friend Tanya and her sister along with Lisa. I worked with them (minus Tanya's sister who is here visiting from Russia) at Chaos College.


Kitchen table chit-chat


Everyone had a onsie to decorate for the baby to have to remember her shower.


I gave each of the hostesses pink fluffy slippers, glitter lipgloss and jewelry. Check out the diva shoes!


The hostesses with me.


Me trying on one of the onsies for size...


Another one of the onsies... design by Dawna


Thank you everybody!!!

Return to Sender

A woman finds a romantic letter in a bottle washed ashore and tracks down the author, a widowed shipbuilder whose wife died tragically early. As a deep and mutual attraction blossoms, the man struggles to make peace with his past so that he can move on and find happiness.

I rented the sappy tearjerker, Message in a Bottle, a few weeks ago. For starters, I think Kevin Costner is a puss (IMHO) so that made for Strike One. I realize there are legions of Costner fans walking the earth, but I’m not one of them. Secondly, the characters didn’t even bother attempting realism by speaking with a southern accent. This dreadful tale is supposedly set in Wilmington, NC, and having lived in North Carolina for several years, I can attest to the fact that true Tarheels do indeed talk with a pronounced drawl. And that brings me to Strike Three—it’s supposed location. As I watched the movie, I looked in vain for any familiar beach shots that vaguely resembled the Outer Banks. HA! For whatever reason, the powers that be chose deception over truth by saying this drivel took place on my special coast when in actuality, it was Maine’s seashore used for the setting. Guess they figured no one would notice. At any rate, I almost had to restrain myself from applauding at the end when Kevin’s character met his untimely demise. *said in loud umpirish voice,* “Yer out!”

Birthday Party Pics

I've finally had a chance to sit down and get the pictures from Richard's birthday off my camera. I made him a German Chocolate cake (his request) and drowned it in icing. Yummy!



He spit on it for us to get the fire out.


I told him it was going to be the best birthday ever ever! He was shocked.... a happy shocked. He got an Xbox 360... the one thing I did NOT want in my house because its only breeding grounds for trouble. I bought it.


The happy birthday boy with a hot party girl.

Picture Perfect

Another ‘happening’ this past weekend was the family photo shoot. In all honesty we have never ever had a fam pic so this was quite an extraordinary event. My talented niece flew out from NC to visit and while she was out here, picked up a few bucks on the side by putting one of her many skills to good use. Sis and gang opted for the white shirt/bluejeans look while the Circe menagerie went with the more GQ black polo/khaki visage. We occasionally let the pure silliness shine through resulting in joyful merriment rather than tedious chore. Afterwards we all enjoyed a relative-intense cookout featuring grilled chicken, baked potatoes, veggies, salad, and a hefty bottle of Merlot. As we toasted marshmallows by the crackling bonfire and turned them into gooey S’mores, leftover fireworks burst above the appreciative crowd.

TBC finally broke down yesterday and had me call AT&T ("the new Cingular") regarding his notoriously popular cell number. If you recall the story, a certain female in town has a vast collection of unsavory friends who are forever either in dire need of a. some sort of ‘package,’ or b. assistance in detention springing as they frantically employ the get-out-of-jail collect call. Alrighty then. In the months he has had these mobile digits, the calls have never lessened as her buddies apparently cannot distinguish between the numbers “6” and “8” when they are higher than a kite. At any rate, he’s now the proud owner of a brand spanking new number that the rep promised had no previous owners or dubious history. The irony was not lost when he informed me this morning that his phone jarred him awake at 2:30 am by someone named “private.” WTF?

Shake a Tail Feather

I’m sure I’ll be feeling some residual aches and pains this week as I recover from our lively Latino dance party last night. Though our gathering was small and intimate, we managed to rattle the walls as we twisted and twirled to the music. Mischief, the only male (kitty) allowed to remain, was terrified and hid out in the bedroom when he wasn’t playing soccer with the whipped cream cap. After chowing down on chips, dip, root beer floats, and brownie sundaes, the festivities got under way with a loving and painstakingly compiled multimedia slide show of “S’s” personal six-month DR experience. Thanks to “S’s” patience, I can now say with confidence that I have danced the Bachata, Cumbia, Salsa, and my personal favorite, the Merengue. I had to be reminded that I had already received lessons for the Salsa when we stayed at the tropical resort. Um, I've slept since then... As yet, I cannot distinguish among the differing melodies for the first three, but by golly if my feet cannot stop tapping and my hips rhythmically undulate on their own accord to an irresistible, catchy beat, I know it’s the Merengue! We worked up a lot of sweat, laughed ourselves silly and hopefully burned off mucho calories. Of course, we each had to bust our own unique American moves occasionally, but all in all, we threw our heart and soul into the seductive swaying. (I tossed in a few energetic pirouettes for good measure!) The party was still in full swing when I bid my goodbyes (some of us have to work on Monday), but the evening was a resounding success. Whose up for big band swing dance lessons? :)

Let There Be Light

Today was Richards birthday... here's how we've spent it...

In the dark.

Our electricity has been off more than its been on. We fixed lunch (electricity had already been off and back on once), then started in on cake and ice cream and the electricity started in... off, on, off, on, etc. Finally, it came on and stayed for about an hour. We opened his gifts - which i'd love to share pictures of, but I cant get to my computer without electricity! All the boys sat down to hook up the new XBox 360, I headed out for my pedicure... and my phone rang. They announced the power had gone out again, so they were going shopping. HOURS later, we all return home to find no power yet... and the house is hot.... the air is still... and our entire neighborhood has set up camp in their driveways.

We opted to go see a movie. Mr Bean... and in my opinion not very funny. Everyone else laughed, but I wasn't seeing the humor. Anyways ... we headed back to the house to find a completely dark neighborhood. UGH! So, here we are sittiing at my sister's place while kids do homework and I surf the net and Richard celebratets the last moments of his birthday day, watching Attack of Mars or something like that.

Apparently, there are about 775 customers without power and they dont have an explanation why. Oh the joy.

Guilty Pleasures

I know you all remember me telling you about my secret shame of watching Dr. 90210, but I stoop even lower than that. My guiltiest pleasure is watching Hef’s GFs in all their bosomy glory strut their very well-endowed stuff in the fluffy reality show, The Girls Next Door. You'll recognize them by the dollar signs they greedily exchanged for irises. Yes, I know it glorifies shallow, superficial appearances without a speck of tangible substance and yes, I feel the need to take a long, cleansing shower after each viewing, and yes, I sense my IQ plummeting much like a meteor hurtling toward earth, but there is something so crassly entertaining about watching this trio of young, nubile bleached-blondes parading around in scanty costumes readying themselves for the next glitzy blowout bash or trying to decide what to buy their 80-something coddled, codger “boyfriend” for Valentine’s Day/his geriatric birthday/Bastille Day. And lest I forget, the Valentine's Day episode featured the dogs, Winnie (a black something or other) and Duke (chihuahua) being squired around the grounds by chauffeur Holly for their 'romantic carriage ride.' Ummm, ok....In my opinion, Holly is the prettiest, Bridget the dumbest (and supposedly the smartest), and though Kendra glams up beautifully with the application of makeup, she's not all that spectacular facewise sans warpaint. The show pretty much flip flops along between these two “intellectual” premises. And though a mindless diversion and though I involuntarily shudder every time the feather-brained bimb, I mean smart, savvy ingénues give the geezer a peck on his leathery, withered lips, I continue to stare transfixed at the screen as I voyeuristically ponder the unspoken possibilities. Shaggingly speaking, do they do threesomes? Foursomes? Does it go by rotation? Drawing straws? Rock-paper-scissors? Picking a number out of the party hat? Do they occasionally indulge in strictly girl-on-girl action and gleefully lock the aged perv out of the Pleasuredome? And then I wonder what they’ve been willed/gifted/promised to willingly bump uglies with the decrepit King of Hedonism? Pardon me while I switch to the History Channel...

That Time of Year Again

This weekend is a big event at our house! Richard's birthday!

Happy pre-Birthday, babydoll! I can't wait to see you Saturday! You see, Richard has been working all kinds of OT at work and has stayed buried in code all week. I'm hoping to drag him out for a bit on Saturday ;)

We went to our baby-birthin' class last night and we discovered that the breathing techniques are probably not going to work for us because a) Richard says he feels stupid and b) we get to laughing. The different labor positions probably aren't going to work much because a) I feel like a dork and b) we get to laughing. We may not be laughing much when those real contractions hit and if he even cracks a little laugh i'll hit him so hard that i'll knock that little giggle right out of him! Just bring on the epidural!

Obstruction Zone

The obstinate post I was working on for today unexpectedly departed for Microsoft Word 2007 heaven so hopefully my revised version fills the bill. Minor, petty things have been accumulating all this week and yes, I realize it’s only Wednesday. Already I’m in dire need of a serious attitude adjustment. Or a drink. Or both. The ladies upstairs bathroom has been out of commission for a week and a half now and there is no plumber in sight. I have called maintenance and even reminded the Exalted Poobah’s assistant to no avail. It isn’t that I mind traipsing down the stairs to the communal stalls (more exercise), but it’s the fact they keep the downstairs potties less than pristine and our "genteel scholars" have a heck of a time remembering to flush let alone place their used towels in the trash.

"Attention Ladies, and I'm using that term loosely here:
Please turn around and flush the toilet when you are through. Or reach back and hit the handle. Either way. Ok? Thank you."

But no, they would rather be dirty, little pigs. That don’t care. They are dirty, little pigs that don’t care. One never knows what eyeball-searing scene will greet ones peepers as one fearfully opens a stall door. It is positively vile. The faucet water reaches the sizzling temperature of “tepid” so after washing ones hands, doubt lingers while wondering if this heat is sufficient to kill those throngs of copulating germs.

Also, we just received a memo that starting tomorrow, yet another entrance will be blocked off. Why don’t they just get it over with and entomb staff in here like a body in a coffin forgodssakes?! Or better yet, just lock us out completely. I am really tired of trying to figure out new ways to enter or exit the premises with all this construction going on. Did they have to work on everything at once? Aren’t we violating stringent fire codes or something by now? And to top it off, I missed seeing Naked Guy on the Side of the Highway waving at passerby on Monday afternoon as he was long gone by 5 pm. Dang it!!!

Glamour Shots

You wanna see something just precious!!!???




Our lil Kerry Jr stretching her hamstrings! hehe


She had her feet in the way the entire time we tried to get a good picture of her. lol

I Want More

Did y'all watch the VMA's last night!?

Richard and I were out of town so we set the pre-show and the actual awards to record. I fast forwarded to the one little part I wanted to see... the Comeback of Britney Spears! I actually was interested in seeing if she even showed up! She's been scheduled for shows periodically in Vegas and has a terrible habit of being a no-show or performing horrendously. I had to see how this one went.

She showed, but obviously wasn't into it. It appeared as if she was scared.... stage fright almost. Maybe it was a bit overwhelming to her. Who knows. But the lip-synching was horrible and she even just stopped singing at one point... and then seemed to remember she was supposed to be singing. The choreography was like what a group of elementary school kids could do. Nothing fantastic. Nothing 'popping'. I also thought a few times that she seemed to stumble...

What happened to Chris Angel? Rumor had it they were going to perform together. Maybe at the last minute HE bailed and she was forced to throw together some performance?!?

Here's what I read this morning:

.

MTV Awards flourish despite Britney bomb
By NEKESA MUMBI MOODY, AP Music Writer
Today at 3:55 am

As in most train wrecks, it was hard to focus on just one thing as the Britney Spears disaster unfolded. There was just so much that went wrong.

Out-of-synch lip-synching. Lethargic movements that seemed choreographed by a dance instructor for a nursing home. The paunch in place of Spears' once-taut belly. At times she just stopped singing altogether, as if even she knew nothing could save her performance.

Designed to drum up excitement for her upcoming album, Spears' kickoff to the MTV Video Music Awards on Sunday night became another example of how far she has fallen. It would have been understandable if MTV's show had been crushed under the weight of the opening fiasco -- yet somehow it rebounded, and even flourished

Fantasy Frenzy

After all the cousin drama this week, I totally forgot to relate how the FFB auction went this past Saturday. Of course, I came completely festooned in my fav team colors (orange and brown, natch) and even had a few pumpkiny streaks scattered throughout my flowing locks. TBC accompanied me for a change and for the most part, I was happy he came, but there was the minor snafu of his taking over my player bidding and in a flash spending all my hard earned fake buckeroos. Darn him! And he most definitely was favoring his team’s lineup as I am the proud owner of quite a few Steelers men. Alas, I was unable to snag My Tony. *sniff* Though I didn’t squabble over the seating arrangement this time, I did start to show cracks in my amiable armor by the last dozen rounds or so as those with money to burn continued grabbing players for ridiculously low prices while the rest of us felt ourselves rapidly aging before our eyes. And yes, I was the most obvious as my transparent gestures revealed my extreme displeasure with audible sighing, obvious eye-rolling and the ever popular dramatic ‘head thrown down onto crossed arms across table’ move. Even TBC proclaimed in a loud tone that I “probably wouldn’t be doing this again.” Yes, I admit I find the auction method lengthy and tedious and yes, I would much prefer the slightly shorter and fairer draft as we have done in the past. At any rate, I got through it without killing anyone, but just barely. In looking at the matchups, I am favored to win this first skirmish but most seem to have much better teams and I’m not feeling very optimistic for my chances throughout this season. Oh well. Thought you’d enjoy a pic of the managers’ cupcakes that the commish’s wife whipped up. And yes, they were darn tasty. Also, here is an article from The Onion on my principal quarterback. *LOL*

Cousin update: In other news, after spending two glorious nights in the pokey, our favorite psychotic was let loose on an unsuspecting world when wifey and TBC arrived to bail him out yesterday afternoon. Actually he went from jail to the hospital and is being held for evaluation. Here’s hoping his release is not hasty as I don’t want a recap of this crazy week...

Mild Temperatures for this Weekend

Everyone does things that they later regret - I'm not really referring to 'I wish I'd gotten the salad instead of that double whopper and triple cheese'. When I was a young'en (i'm talking college, early 20's) I did alot of things that I later felt much regret for and some things I really wish I could have gone back and had do-overs. Some things I probably should have felt regret towards, but didnt think twice about them, and other things I regretted, but time healed that feeling and I'm long over it.

You'd think that as a person matures, they'd learn from some of the life lessons and make better decisions and adjustments so that those situations don't arise or are at least less severe. However, some continue to do things that later bring much regret. Some intentional (and probably hope to never get caught), some accidental.

I wish I could do do-overs. Some things I just really regret and I wish there were do-overs. I guess when it's done, or said, it's already done, or said. No do-over. We just learn to live with it, or not, and make an adjustment.

I'm not sure which way to adjust.

Cousin's Keeper

Some posts just write themselves. It all started about a week ago while TBC and I were yakking on the phone. Oldest brother had shown up at our house before heading to their cousin’s nearby dwelling to try to straighten things out between Nutjob and Flower Child. It seems there was an acrimonious fight underway and reinforcements in the guise of “S” were called upon to enter the fray. I guess things briefly settled down—till Monday. TBC and "K" had just left our house when a tearful call was left on voicemail from distraught Flower Child. Yet another battle had broken out with Nutjob zooming off to our friendly, local Supercenter Walmart to camp out and cool off? Buy toilet paper? Mingle with the unwashed masses? I have no earthly idea. Overflowing with the milk of human kindness, I relucta, er, helpfully dialed the absent TBC and asked him to return Flower Child’s call and assess the situation upon which he headed out to Walmart to talk to his wayward relative. Two hours later TBC returned home, feeling confident he had done the best he could to smooth things over. However, Nutjob did not wish to rejoin Flower Child as yet so TBC had suggested he rent a motel room and get some much needed rest seeing as how the sleep-deprived guy was pretty much off his rocker. This advice was not taken. Early yesterday afternoon, TBC calls and warns me not to return home until given the green light. It seems rather than take TBC’s sage advice, Mr. Loon had wandered the premises of Wally World all night and showed up at our place unkempt, filthy and nuttier than a fruitcake. I find it hard to believe Walmart employees never alerted authorities, but I guess his actions were not much different than their nightly clientele. Anyway, though it didn’t sound like TBC was being held hostage, I worried about him all afternoon as I’m unaware of cuz’s propensity for violence. After one final call before leaving work, I headed to “S” & “T’s” house to spend an uncertain amount of the evening. Finally at 7 pm, I headed home to learn of the day’s events. It seems Mr Fruitcake had not eaten, briefly slept in our bed and was given strict orders to patch things up with Flower Child and give his marriage another shot. (I changed the sheets.) After a fitful night, I am back at work today and sure enough, the expected call came around 9 am. It seems Nutjob headed home, resumed fighting, boozed it up, showed up at a smokeshop and threatened to shoot employees (with his finger) resulting in a public intoxication ticket and jail time. Good lord! TBC stopped by his house to find the deputy there and was told Nutjob would be escorted to a psychiatric evaluation center after leaving lockup. Hear hear! Sad to say, a similar episode occurred a few years ago when he lived in a different state. I’m not exactly sure what his mental problems are but it is high time they were addressed and resolved. Will keep you posted…

On Our Long Weekend

I hope everyone had a great Labor Day weekend! We took it easy this weekend and just 'fiddle farted' around the house.

A few of our pictures from today...
Me in our backyard.


Me doing a sexy Madonna pose for Richard in the backyard.


Richard doing a sexy Madonna pose for me... in the house... while pushing his stomach out to try to make me feel better because no matter how much I suck in, it still sticks out. Nice bedhead dude!

In Search of OU Football Shoes

For the past few weeks my running shoes have been causing terrible blisters and sore spots on my left foot. Primarily my big toe and its ball (what is that thing called... you know, the joint that works your big toe. Your big toe ball joint thing). Anyways, I've been on the search for new shoes and haven't found any I liked so far.

A couple of days ago, my friend Marsha emailed me and asked if she could come stay with us because she had to pick a friend up at the airport and she wanted to come down the night before. Certainly! Marsha came friday night and like all girls would... we headed to the mall. SHE was looking for new shoes to wear to the OU game today, I was just along for the ride. However, I found my new shoes! It always works that way. You look for something... you can't find it, but stop looking and BAM there it is!

I wore my new shoes (currently I am walking in my running shoes as a temporary condition has slowed my gym activity some) this morning and I think i'm going to like them!

Here's me and Marsha as she left to get her buddy at the airport.

I Write Everywhere

My gym story is here.

It's our blog that we used until it went belly up a year or so ago! It's back!!!

Summer Serenade

I know August catches a lot of unwelcome flack what with its oppressive heat and lack of holidays, but I for one, love it. Good things have usually happened to me during this month and though I’m coming up empty in relating specific recent instances, I still consider it one of my personal favorites. As we bid farewell to sultry summer and gear up for clear, crisp, cooler, bright autumn days (the cooler part won’t happen until October for Okieland), we kick off these changes with this Labor Day weekend salute. This closing summer fling is met with mixed emotions as I reflect on the subtle and not so subtle changes soon to occur. While looking at my handy dandy activities planner, I see I have a full dance card for every single weekend. In no particular order my list includes Fantasy Football auction, college play, chili cookoff, art festival, photoshop seminar, TBC cousin reunion, niece visiting from NC slated to shoot some exceedingly overdue family portraits, Latino dance party and Ker’s ultimate babygirl shower. Whew! All this is in addition to my usual, demanding weekend tasks. And let’s not forget my intensifying movie watching addiction. I upped my plan to three-at-a-time from Netflix recently so I’ll be frequently firing up the microwave for tasty snacks washed down with yummy beverages. (And yes, by “beverages,” I mean bottles of vino. You know me too well.) ;-)

Much like the very ornery blogger I am, I hope to kick-start the long weekend off right by totally pissing off my favorite airhead Xanga blogger by inciting her to riot thanks to the goofy name I plan to use to get onto her locked site. I expect a testy, venom-strewn, obscenity-laced, retaliatory private message in response. Good times!

Have a safe and fabulous weekend!

Follicle Follies

“No one has love greater than this, that someone should surrender his soul in behalf of his friends.”—John 15:13

To what lengths will one go to help a friend? As I pushed the button to start this Netflix selection, I had no idea what to expect and no intention of reviewing it, but the best laid plans, eh? Much like the anonymous viewer’s quote on IMDB, I found it strangely addicting and though initially ambivalent, ended up replaying it a second time before reluctantly returning it to home base. It’s a late 70s movie set during what I can only guess is the autumn after the Summer of Love (1967). A naïve Oklahoma cowboy with the unlikely name of Claude, on his way to report for duty in the U.S. Army, is befriended by a ragtag band of carefree hippies who hang out in Central Park as they live life in the moment and revel in their everyday existence. Taking advantage of every opportunity, their fearless leader, the Pied Piper of free spirits, Berger, shows Claude an alternate slice of life as he enters the psychedelic underbelly of a heretofore unknown universe. While in Central Park, he locks eyeballs with a vision of pure loveliness in the form of steed-riding Beverly D’Angelo (pre-Ellen Griswold), an upper crust debutante born with the proverbial spoon in her perfectly-bowed mouth. (Yeah, she flashes her boobies several times. Remember "Vacation"?) Our hirsute Robin Hood aids his new-found friend in surmounting any obstacles in his quest to be near his new love. And it is this sacrificial willingness that leads to his downfall. Though the opening moments show Berger and his gang of merry men burning their draft cards, refusing to fight for a belief system they despise, a system that mindlessly feeds the never-satisfied appetite of a massive war machine, it is he alone that carries this lofty ideal to its furthest conclusion and pays the ultimate price. This movie begs the observer to question just what defines a true 'hero'. During the gut-wrenching final shot of Berger’s grave nestled among thousands of fellow compatriots killed on foreign soil, silent tears fall. If anyone displayed the embodiment of selfless surrender it was our cock-eyed optimist, Berger. And could the catchy ditty, "Manchester, England" puulllleeeeze vacate my noggin? Let the sun shine, indeed.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

Like many of the other crazy people in the state, we were up at the wee hours of the morning this morning watching the Lunar Eclipse. C set his alarm for 3:45am so we wouldn't miss any of it. It was a bit early... we all headed back to bed for about another 30 minutes before the real action began.

C snapped my picture while we watched and after he got it.. he said "MOM! How do you do that!?!?" He meant smile at 4:30am just like I do all the other times. I am a professional actress! hehe






As it was becoming daylight...