Happy Halloween!

This is Sharpay from High School Musical, in case that's not obvious. Which, dude, it's so not. We lost the hair scrunchie that goes with it, and it was cold so Loodle added a sweater for comfort.



Meet the Victorian Queen, not to be confused with Queen Victoria. This distinction was made clear to everyone by Boodle.
I can't begin to describe my joy to see that Loodle is WORKING this dress. I'll be looking back at this outfit fondly, I'm sure, when I'm arguing over the trampy clothes she's trying to pick out at Hot Topic in a few years.



Garth Brooks. 'Nuff said.

Down With The Boll Weevil

Yesterday, I had to use the Urban Dictionary to find out how the phrase "smoke a bowl" is spelled. Is it boll, like boll weevil? Or is it a bowl, like an actual bowl?

That is sad, but not as sad as looking up the spelling of "boll weevil" and seeing that Alabama has a Boll Weevil Monument, and also in California, there's a Boll Weevil Restaurant. After clicking through, it's revealed to be a chain, and the one in Chula Vista has the same great burgers and the same great beer, but the sauce isn't on the tray, you have to ask for it, and don't even get us started on them letting Julieta go, which means now you have to bring your own crackers and cherries. Apparently.

Here in the fine state of Texas, we have a Boll Weevil Eradication Foundation. Which, if you click through and see their logo, compels me to give them my very last penny to keep that giant insect from devouring our state.



The TBWEF is hiring, btw. I considered going for a Field Technician job, but it required things like "common sense" and activities like "walking, hiking, climbing, standing, balancing, kneeling, stooping, bending, stretching and reaching in extremely rugged, cotton-field terrain, including walking across ditches and furrows, up and down steep banks, over muddy ground and through loose, shifting sand." I'm pretty sure I'm no good at ANY of that. Also, I would be unable to correctly identify a boll weevil, and instead would eradicate some rare, newly discovered beetle that could cure cancer.

That would suck.

Just Like Bert & Ernie's Pad

Last year sometime, the girls decided that having a playroom was crap, and it was time to split the bunk beds apart and have separate rooms. Hallelujah, bedtime became infinitely easier, what with the inability to talk all the livelong day and keep each other awake until I come in screaming.

Whew. SO glad that happened. But. Yesterday. I must have been tired. Or in a particularly giving, loving delusional mood. God help us, I agreed to put the beds BACK in the same room and resurrect the playroom. And by "I agreed", I mean I signed up The Man for heavy lifting.

It is now 9:15pm, and let me just say... the talking. THE TALKING. What did I expect? They are GIRLS. It's the first night of Room Switcheroo 2009. Luckily, The Man has drawn the short straw and has to be the one to awaken them in the morning to get ready for school. Ha ha.

Of course, the fallout for ME is that I get to move 87 pieces of furniture around and try and make some sense of the clutter. Ssssshhhh. Don't tell the girls that while they are in school, I periodically go through their garbage! IT'S GARBAGE stuff and throw away box up their things and move them to the garage. Of course, they've not ONCE missed a single item. (except for those stick ponies that neighed and played the William Tell Overture until the batteries/motor started to go bad so they sounded like Rossini had smoked a bowl, but I told them uh, duuuh, hmmm, no clue. They're maybe in the closet... oh you should keep looking! No? How about a lollipop!)

Anyway. A nine year old and an almost seven year old sharing a room. I'm sure it'll last WELL into their teens.

Or, in a more likely scenario, next week I'll be documenting the line taped down the center of the room.

Fresh Air Is So Invigorating

This is what happens to a child after a record-breaking, hotter-than-Hades summer spent inside:



"But Mother, whatever does one DO when out of doors?"

Wish me luck this winter as we delve into the concept of what a park looks like.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Cancer Sucks

My friend Monica and I just got back from the hospital, where we visited another friend who was diagnosed with APL last Friday. She's around my age with a husband, a 2nd grader and a yellow lab puppy. And now she'll be in the hospital for two weeks getting chemo, and choosing what the doctor referred to as a "cranial prosthetic" to use when her own hair falls out.

Cancer sucks.

Wordless Wednesday

Visit to California

Okay, I'm a week late, but here's what happened on my trip last weekend to sunny Cali:

Upon arrival at LAX, I was whisked away by my sister and law and bestest friend Tiffany and taken directly OUT of town for a weekend spent at the spa, the movies, the bowling alley, various yummy restaurants, the hotel, and the casino. We talked and talked and TALKED, and by "we", I mean I'm pretty sure I never paused for a breath. I might have missed my best friend just a tad with all the drama this summer. It was SO good to reconnect and RELAX. And no, we're not going to discuss just how much money I lost at poker. We're NOT.

Funny story: we almost became small-time criminals. We went bowling, and while I was putting bowling balls away and Tiffany was putting shoes away and getting coupons, we neglected to actually PAY for the bowling. We discovered this half an hour later while waiting for a movie to start. Of course, because we believe in Karma coming back to kick us in the cajones, we went back after the movie and did the walk of shame up to the counter. They gave us some good natured ribbing as well as gesturing for security to take us away, then THANKED us for returning to pay, which is awesome and also very sad.

Next I got to spend the night at my friend W's house, where I watched football, sat in front of a warm and delicious fireplace, and got my hat handed to me in Chinese Checkers by a 5 year old. Good times.

On Monday, I went to visit my mother-in-law. I was excited and trepidatious at the same time. I hadn't seen her since they took her down off the mountain, and I was trying to prepare myself. I was afraid she wouldn't remember me, but those fears were put to rest about 3 minutes after she woke up. She immediately knew who I was, squeezed my hand and touched my cheek. We got the breathing guy to put in the tube thingy (sorry to get so technical with y'all), and she was able to talk to us for a LONG time.

We joked about the troubles she and Tiffany had with the trailer when they first left for the lake. (They had a hell of a time attaching it to the trailer hitch, and a few minutes after starting out, it FELL OFF, and some nice gentlemen stopped to save the day and help get it reattached) I reminded her that she threatened to leave it to Tiffany in her will, and Tiffany countered with the suggestion that when her mom kicks the bucket (yes, we're THAT family), she'd bury her in it like Connie did with all the family pets in the back yard.

Tiffany: "Here lies Constance, who passed away at the ripe old age of 102, with the trailer..."
Connie: "That put her under."

We burst out laughing. It was so wonderful to see Connie's personality really shining through. The expressive eyebrows, the grin, the sparkling eyes. A coworker of hers also came down to visit and brought a small photo album for Connie to go through. She spent a LONG time looking at the pics of her coworkers, recognizing all of them, giving details about what was happening. I could not have asked for more with this visit, and have a renewed hope that she will improve by leaps and bounds with every day and every visitor that comes.

On Monday night, Tiffany, Mama DB and I went out to dinner at Red Lobster (mmm, seafood), then proceeded to DB's house where we harassed her hubby into setting up Rock Band for us (thanks Mr. DB!). Side note: cats know instinctively the best time to plop in the middle of the room and lick their butts. I'm just sayin'. We rocked da howse until Mama DB cried uncle. She apparently had a raging case of bronchitis, but I don't know. I think she's just getting old.

Speaking of which, after the late Monday night and then early morning flight, I was convinced I was coming down with the H1N1 last week. Turns out I'm just getting old and set in my ways, suffering mightily when I don't get a requisite 7 hours of sleep. What a wimp. At least on the flight home I was able to score a row to myself and snore my way back to Texas.

That's about it. Good times were had, people are now sorely missed as usual. Let's work on that "mash Arizona and New Mexico together, creating 1,000 fewer miles between Texas and California" machine, shall we?

Trailer Trash Bunco Rocks My Socks

Trailer Trash Bunco Night was a smashing success. I've gotten so many compliments on how fun and relaxed it was. How could it not be, with tater tot casserole involved? Sad to say, only two people got into the sartorial spirit of things, one of them being myself. I was in jeans and a trashy tank-top, and my friend Amy wore a short denim skirt, wife-beater tank and cowgirl boots. Awesome. The rest of the women couldn't stand the idea of NOT dressing up for a night away from children who may or may not have been wiping hands and noses on their clothing earlier in the day. Fair enough.

Here's the recipe for Tater Tot Casserole, btw. Eat at your own risk:

Tater Tot Casserole:

1 pkg Tater Tots
8 oz. sour cream
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 - 1 Cup shredded cheddar cheese
1 can French Fried Onions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine first 4 ingredients in a big bowl. Grease a 9x13 pan and put casserole mix in, pressing down lightly and evenly into the pan. Top with more cheese to taste and the onions. Cover LOOSELY with foil and bake for approx. 45min to an hour. Uncover at the end to let the onions get browned. Enjoy.
(that last step is SOOOOOO obvious)

Here are some pics of the food from the night. Antacids were distributed as party favors.

Tater Tot Casserole
Pork Rinds
Mmm, Cheese In A Can
Pigs In A Blanket

Yes, those ARE Ho-hos and Twinkies. I know, right? RIGHT???

Of course, it wouldn't be my house if I didn't run out of wine glasses and have to serve it in various tumblers, one of which bore an uncanny resemblance to a votive holder. I also had to ask someone to bring a corkscrew, because wow I'm not a drinker and who doesn't want to come party with me right now?

The evening was such a success that I had to start doing dishes and clattering pans to get people to leave at 10:30pm. This even AFTER I told people I was getting up at 4:30 IN THE MORNING to leave for my flight to California. These women sure like to party.

Next up is Betsy, and I just don't know how she's going to top this Bunco night. The bar is set pretty high. Or low, if you want to look at it that way.

Wordless Wednesday: Style and Flair

I'm Here! But Not For Long

I haven't posted all week, and I'm trying to feel guilty, but I've been too busy for that. I'll catch you up on my goings-on, tell you what's coming down the pike, and then bid you a fond farewell. Probably until next Thursday.

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I'm hosting Bunco this month, and it's tomorrow night. Bunco is a dice rolling excuse to get together and eat and drink. You rotate tables, play in teams, and basically try to roll sixes and lots of them. We usually have around 12 people, and the parties, er games, have been getting kind of elaborate. I've decided to take things down a notch, to help those coming after me to not feel so pressured to put on a raging soiree.

My solution? Trailer Trash Bunco. That's right. I'm going to minimally clean my house and serve cheese-in-a-can, tater tot casserole and rice crispy treats. I plan to dress in my best polyester. I'm even considering having The Man park his car in the yard with the hood up. It's gonna be legendary. No other bunco night will top it. They'll be talking about it for WEEKS. Or, it will simply be a more relaxed night and everyone will have fun, but whatever. CHEESE IN A CAN.

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Bunco usually lasts until 10pm, and since I'm hosting, I'll probably be up catching up on the TV shows I will miss Thursday night cleaning until late. So what did I plan for myself? To get up the next morning at 5am to catch a flight to Los Angeles. I'm going to visit my mother-in-law who is improving and in a step-down type of place right now in L.A. Also, it's the illustrious Tiffany's birthday next Tuesday, so we're escaping to the spa over the weekend for some long-deserved R&R. I'm not sure I deserve it, but Tiff surely does, and what kind of friend would I be if I wasn't there for her? NO FRIEND AT ALL.

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Boodle is getting glasses. I wasn't going to say anything until I had a photo of her in them, but dude, it's my kid, not a prop. She was initially excited about them, but it all turned ugly on Tuesday. We went last week to pick out frames, and I was trying so hard not to me a pushy, bossy mom who bends her daughter to her will (I'm not saying I ever do that, except that I do that ALL THE DAMN TIME) that I didn't really pay enough attention to the frames she chose.

Turns out, kid-sized frames don't fit so good on a non=kid-sized face. Duh. I'm such a good mom. She got her frames back on Monday, and seemed okay with them, but I was nervous. She kept taking them off and just not seeming right about all of it. Then on Tuesday, I got a call from school that she had a headache and I brought her home. After relaxing for a while, and being reminded to keep putting her glasses on, we talked and talked and TALKED and she finally confessed that she really didn't like them, thought they were too small for her face, and was embarrassed to wear them at school.

*thud*

That was my heart dropping. My poor kid who seemed to get the short end of the DNA stick from The Man and I (teeth issues, super thick hair with a super tender scalp, junk in the trunk) now has to wear glasses and feels BAD about them already. After some more discussion and through the miracle that is the Walmart eyewear shop's return/exchange policy, we procured new frames that are of suitable size and style. As soon as they come in and I get a picture of her rockin' those glasses, I'll post it.

Alright, I think that's finally it. I'm done with my brain dump. Enjoy your weekend everyone, and I'll catch up with you all next week!

PS - there's currently an 80% chance of rain and lightning on Friday when I'm supposed to fly out, so please pray to whatever being in which you believe that things go smoothly. It's really important to me that I be there for my sister-in-law. She needs me. And my toes need a manicure.

Yet Another Reason To Love Texas

Oh, dear. This story might have shoved Florida out of the running for the top state from which weird, bizarre, this-can't-be-real news stories spawn.

Dude takes my jewelry back, I'm gonna have to eat his fish. Fair's fair.

I love that the cops say it's a civil matter. Don't bother with the suit: I'll spot you the $1.75 per that you're out.