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By now, most of you are aware at the (sometimes painful) level of dorkiness I possess. It ranges from full blown nerd to a vague sort of social awkwardness. Don't get me wrong; I totally own it. Dorky and proud, that's me. But every now and then, there is a little redemption in what a goober I am. This time, it came from one of my kiddos.
(Carrie and the children are in the car, heading to the theatre for a work call. A car passes, and Aaron pipes up.)
Aaron. Oooh. Did you see that car?
Carrie. Yeah, that was a Trans Am. The cool kids drove those back when I was in high school.
Aaron. Were you cool in high school, Mom?
Carrie. (laughs) No. No, I was not.
(Aaron is silent for a moment as he considers this.)
Aaron. Well, you should have been.
It makes up for the fact that I was (and still am) a huge goober, when one of my kids thinks I'm cool.
And they will, for about three more weeks, until the truth dawns on them.
I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.
(Carrie and the children are in the car, heading to the theatre for a work call. A car passes, and Aaron pipes up.)
Aaron. Oooh. Did you see that car?
Carrie. Yeah, that was a Trans Am. The cool kids drove those back when I was in high school.
Aaron. Were you cool in high school, Mom?
Carrie. (laughs) No. No, I was not.
(Aaron is silent for a moment as he considers this.)
Aaron. Well, you should have been.
It makes up for the fact that I was (and still am) a huge goober, when one of my kids thinks I'm cool.
And they will, for about three more weeks, until the truth dawns on them.
I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.
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My house is arranged in such a way that all of my sons' clothes, toys, furniture and bathroom is upstairs. And that's all that's upstairs. Their stuff.
Once every month and a half or so, I venture up there. I know, I know, I should go more often, but inevitably, every time I go up there, it's like the rooms are a swirling vortex of doom, sucking me in against my will. I get trapped cleaning, rearranging, dumping, shouting and scrubbing until the place is habitable by human beings again.
( The nitty gritty... )
Maybe when they go back to school, it'll be less like a pigsty.
Though there's no need to blaspheme the pig, come to think of it.
Once every month and a half or so, I venture up there. I know, I know, I should go more often, but inevitably, every time I go up there, it's like the rooms are a swirling vortex of doom, sucking me in against my will. I get trapped cleaning, rearranging, dumping, shouting and scrubbing until the place is habitable by human beings again.
( The nitty gritty... )
Maybe when they go back to school, it'll be less like a pigsty.
Though there's no need to blaspheme the pig, come to think of it.
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Which sounds like I've only been to Wal-Mart again, but this is not the case.
First, I must show you this. It is not for the faint of heart amongst you, FYI.
( Eeeek! )
First, I must show you this. It is not for the faint of heart amongst you, FYI.
( Eeeek! )
Tags:
First of all, it was Ethan's eleventh birthday. Cannot believe my kid is eleven.
Second, went to AJ's talent show, where he and several other kiddos did a lip synch and dance to 'Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better,' from Annie Get Your Gun. I'm his mom, but it's pretty cute.
( the videos... cut to save your page... )
It's in two parts because I absolutely suck at videotaping.
Three, I cooked all day for home group, but then I got a call mid afternoon from Nolan asking me if everything was okay. Turns out, there was a fire less than a mile from the house. It was a scary, smoky, crazy afternoon.
Fourth, the powers that be decided that they couldn't have home group meet at our house (there were streets blockaded and neighborhoods evacuated) so I decided that was divine providence, and we took Ethan to dinner for his birthday, and then went to Academy and got him a new bike.
Eleven. I have an eleven year-old. The mind reels.
Lastly,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nolankyle and I did out first marriage blog. We're still working out format and technical stuff, but it's there. Special kudos to jandjsalmon for the layout. :D
And that's probably enough to be getting on with, right? Goodnight!
Second, went to AJ's talent show, where he and several other kiddos did a lip synch and dance to 'Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better,' from Annie Get Your Gun. I'm his mom, but it's pretty cute.
( the videos... cut to save your page... )
It's in two parts because I absolutely suck at videotaping.
Three, I cooked all day for home group, but then I got a call mid afternoon from Nolan asking me if everything was okay. Turns out, there was a fire less than a mile from the house. It was a scary, smoky, crazy afternoon.
Fourth, the powers that be decided that they couldn't have home group meet at our house (there were streets blockaded and neighborhoods evacuated) so I decided that was divine providence, and we took Ethan to dinner for his birthday, and then went to Academy and got him a new bike.
Eleven. I have an eleven year-old. The mind reels.
Lastly,
nolankyle and I did out first marriage blog. We're still working out format and technical stuff, but it's there. Special kudos to jandjsalmon for the layout. :DAnd that's probably enough to be getting on with, right? Goodnight!
Good morning, all.
I'm covered up with all of the things that I have to do today and this weekend - and I have some pretty great stories to share about life in the last few days, but here's a cute kid/royal wedding story for you Friday morning reading pleasure.
( Cute kid story... )
( Headshots gone wrong and promo photo for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels... )
I'm covered up with all of the things that I have to do today and this weekend - and I have some pretty great stories to share about life in the last few days, but here's a cute kid/royal wedding story for you Friday morning reading pleasure.
( Cute kid story... )
( Headshots gone wrong and promo photo for Dirty Rotten Scoundrels... )
That's too much information for some of you. Apologies.
What's got me all riled this morning is standardized testing. Just the mention of the TAKS (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills) Test, the latest in a long line of similar examinations, is enough to get my eyes rolling and for me to huff in displeasure, repeatedly.
You haven't lived til you hear me huff. It'll send chills down your spine.
( A story about how Carrie is annoyed by standardized testing. )
What's got me all riled this morning is standardized testing. Just the mention of the TAKS (Texas Assessment of Knowledge and Skills) Test, the latest in a long line of similar examinations, is enough to get my eyes rolling and for me to huff in displeasure, repeatedly.
You haven't lived til you hear me huff. It'll send chills down your spine.
( A story about how Carrie is annoyed by standardized testing. )
Incidentally, third grade is when math all started going to hell for me.
But I digress.
Yesterday, Aaron needed help with number sentences. When he needs help with actual math, he goes to his father. For sentences, mom is the one. In any case, AJ came up with the problem, 16 x 20 or something, and I suggested a word problem along the lines of 'he had 16 friends and gave them each 20 pieces of candy...'
Aaron. (looks surprised) Wow, Mom. You're good at math.
Carrie. (laughs, in a self-deprecating manner) You think?
Aaron. (considers) Well, you're getting better.
Carrie. Oh, thanks, kid.
Aaron. (yells from the other room) That was a compliment!
It's nice to know I'm getting better. I'd hate to stagnate where I am.
But I digress.
Yesterday, Aaron needed help with number sentences. When he needs help with actual math, he goes to his father. For sentences, mom is the one. In any case, AJ came up with the problem, 16 x 20 or something, and I suggested a word problem along the lines of 'he had 16 friends and gave them each 20 pieces of candy...'
Aaron. (looks surprised) Wow, Mom. You're good at math.
Carrie. (laughs, in a self-deprecating manner) You think?
Aaron. (considers) Well, you're getting better.
Carrie. Oh, thanks, kid.
Aaron. (yells from the other room) That was a compliment!
It's nice to know I'm getting better. I'd hate to stagnate where I am.
Tags:
It's Aaron's birthday. The baby is NINE. (It's seriously time to lose the weight, right?)
For long time readers of my journal, or you folks that actually know my kiddos personally, you know that there have been more than a few emergency room visits over the years. So this morning, after the blueberry scones, the birthday presents and the sunrise ride of the new scooter (that actually causes SPARKS - Wow, was THAT ever a dubious idea) I asked him what he thought age nine was going to hold for him. The above title holds his answer, and my response was to put my head on the table and weep a little. My admonitions to "Be careful!" just fall on deaf ears. Boys, man. What are ya gonna do?
( Age 7... Age 9 )
There was talk about finally exacting retribution on the tree... my advice was not to provoke it like he did the last time. It obviously didn't work out too well for him.
( Testing the toys... )
Today my main job is to make birthday cake! (Chocolate cake with chocolate icing - excellent choice!) And get ready for a sleepover tonight. And if you're so inclined, would you send up a prayer or two for my little sister and her family? She's expecting her third little bundle of joy, today!
Have a great day, all!
For long time readers of my journal, or you folks that actually know my kiddos personally, you know that there have been more than a few emergency room visits over the years. So this morning, after the blueberry scones, the birthday presents and the sunrise ride of the new scooter (that actually causes SPARKS - Wow, was THAT ever a dubious idea) I asked him what he thought age nine was going to hold for him. The above title holds his answer, and my response was to put my head on the table and weep a little. My admonitions to "Be careful!" just fall on deaf ears. Boys, man. What are ya gonna do?
( Age 7... Age 9 )
There was talk about finally exacting retribution on the tree... my advice was not to provoke it like he did the last time. It obviously didn't work out too well for him.
( Testing the toys... )
Today my main job is to make birthday cake! (Chocolate cake with chocolate icing - excellent choice!) And get ready for a sleepover tonight. And if you're so inclined, would you send up a prayer or two for my little sister and her family? She's expecting her third little bundle of joy, today!
Have a great day, all!
I bring you a post with a story, this morning.
I've shared what I call 'cute kid stories' with you over the years; I think they're cute, anyway. You people might think they're moronic and I'm wasting my computer's battery relaying it - but whatever. Here's another.
( Puff something. I KNOW it's Puff Something! )
I've shared what I call 'cute kid stories' with you over the years; I think they're cute, anyway. You people might think they're moronic and I'm wasting my computer's battery relaying it - but whatever. Here's another.
( Puff something. I KNOW it's Puff Something! )
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We went to the family's cabin in Childress, TX (which is right between Quanah and Estelline, thanks for asking) for the long weekend. Below are the pictures to come out of it all.
Warning: There are a lot of pictures. I'm not kidding. A LOT. And there are cows. And strangely dressed children. And one victim of a hunting excursion. Be forewarned. I'm not listening to any whining.
The best thing about the cabin is that there's literally NO ONE AROUND. No people, that is. There are lots of cows. And deer. And cranes (minus one). And various other wildlife. You can imagine my moue of distaste on my face. But this weekend was fun. It was just the four of us. Well, six if you count the dogs. And we do.
( Home, home on the range... )
And I showed restraint by only posting HALF the pictures. The other half got lost in my second crappy camera. I think I'll buy a new one with my birthday money. Then I can inflict GOOD cow pictures on you, and not the slightly blurry ones.
Warning: There are a lot of pictures. I'm not kidding. A LOT. And there are cows. And strangely dressed children. And one victim of a hunting excursion. Be forewarned. I'm not listening to any whining.
The best thing about the cabin is that there's literally NO ONE AROUND. No people, that is. There are lots of cows. And deer. And cranes (minus one). And various other wildlife. You can imagine my moue of distaste on my face. But this weekend was fun. It was just the four of us. Well, six if you count the dogs. And we do.
( Home, home on the range... )
And I showed restraint by only posting HALF the pictures. The other half got lost in my second crappy camera. I think I'll buy a new one with my birthday money. Then I can inflict GOOD cow pictures on you, and not the slightly blurry ones.
Eclipse has an MPAA rating of PG-13. I knew that going into this. But the boys have watched loads of PG-13 movies without incident. Off the top of my head - The Spider-Man Franchise, for one. And I am by no means a prude. But I was wholly unprepared for this. WHERE IS MY HANDBOOK?
Anywho, parenting is an adventure.
( Are you a virgin, Mommy? )
In less horrifying news, my dad is here, and we're have a cool, laid back time. Love to all and happy new year, if I don't see you before.
Anywho, parenting is an adventure.
( Are you a virgin, Mommy? )
In less horrifying news, my dad is here, and we're have a cool, laid back time. Love to all and happy new year, if I don't see you before.
(Carrie's family is having lunch at Saltgrass Steakhouse yesterday, and Ethan is particularly animated, telling us a story about what happened the last time he was at church)
Ethan. You know how you always tell us to eat whatever is put in front of us without complaining?
Nolan. Yes.
Aaron. (Pipes up) You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!
Carrie. That's right.
Ethan. (glares at his brother) Anyway, we had cupcakes last week after the lesson, and our teacher's son asked for a cupcake with no icing. (playwright's note: This bit in italics is delivered as if it were "dropped the bomb on Hiroshima.")
Nolan. You don't say.
Ethan. Yeah! She knew that her son didn't want icing, so she saved one without just for him. She must really love him!
Nolan. Love doesn't necessarily have anything to do with that. The world isn't going to scrape the icing off your cupcake, Ethan.
Aaron. (pipes up again) That's okay with me. I like icing.
(There is a silence, in which we all ponder what's been said and the ramifications thereof...)
Aaron. Oh. That was a metaphor, wasn't it, Dad?
Carrie. (narrowly stops herself from swearing) What the-- A.J., what kind of eight year-old knows what a metaphor is?
Ethan. (preens) The kind with a ten year-old brother!
Aaron. (glares at Ethan) The kind that ignores his brother and listens to his mom.
I don't know of what I'm more proud: The fact that Nolan USED a metaphor, or the fact that the eight year-old listens to me talk enough to know what that particular figure of speech means.
Ethan. You know how you always tell us to eat whatever is put in front of us without complaining?
Nolan. Yes.
Aaron. (Pipes up) You get what you get and you don't throw a fit!
Carrie. That's right.
Ethan. (glares at his brother) Anyway, we had cupcakes last week after the lesson, and our teacher's son asked for a cupcake with no icing. (playwright's note: This bit in italics is delivered as if it were "dropped the bomb on Hiroshima.")
Nolan. You don't say.
Ethan. Yeah! She knew that her son didn't want icing, so she saved one without just for him. She must really love him!
Nolan. Love doesn't necessarily have anything to do with that. The world isn't going to scrape the icing off your cupcake, Ethan.
Aaron. (pipes up again) That's okay with me. I like icing.
(There is a silence, in which we all ponder what's been said and the ramifications thereof...)
Aaron. Oh. That was a metaphor, wasn't it, Dad?
Carrie. (narrowly stops herself from swearing) What the-- A.J., what kind of eight year-old knows what a metaphor is?
Ethan. (preens) The kind with a ten year-old brother!
Aaron. (glares at Ethan) The kind that ignores his brother and listens to his mom.
I don't know of what I'm more proud: The fact that Nolan USED a metaphor, or the fact that the eight year-old listens to me talk enough to know what that particular figure of speech means.
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I had PLANS for today.
Unfortunately, my eight year old is huddled on the sofa with a case of what I'm pretty sure is strep throat. My BFA in Theatre Arts somehow gives me the knowledge and experience to diagnose him. That, or battling that stupid bacteria for the last ten years. I've a MOM degree. It's like a sixth sense. A sixth sense that get's awakened in the wee hours of the morning when your child has stuff coming out of him that should just not BE.
Can I give it back? Is that an option? I don't remember checking that particular box.
By the way, whatever happened to Aaron being the iron man in the family? This is the second time the kid's been sick this year. I blame the disgusting breeding ground of germs in which he spends 8 hours a day.
Some people merely call it 'the elementary school.' My name has more flair.
You know how I don't work, right? I'm a stay at home mom, and I teach one afternoon a week. And volunteer at the above breeding ground one day a week. And do odd jobs for the theatre. And cook for my home group every Wednesday. And make sure all my family has clean clothes, vacuumed floors, clean bathrooms and are fed at least two meals 7 days a week. Somehow, even though I don't work, my days are always completely full. For Christmas this year, I have added tasks: getting gifts and door prizes for the company Christmas party, gift certificates for same, wrapping presents, hosting several parties at the house (so far I'm up to 4), sewing several projects for friends and family, making goodie baskets for AAA Electric's customers (which will include two solid days of baking),and currently top on my list of things to do is get new furniture for Nolan's office. It was repainted several months ago, and he's ready to have the pictures back up on the wall and someplace for people to sit when he bawls them out.
I'm glad I don't work for him, anymore. He FIRED me. He fired HIS MOTHER, too. We're both still a little bitter about it.
(In actuality it had something to do with taxes, and we make more money now than we did befopre, but that's beside the point. HE STILL FIRED US. And he didn't even do it face to face. He fired me OVER THE PHONE. Chuh.)
But that's a post for another day.
What I'm saying in the midst of all the whining and complaining that this post has turned out to be (er, sorry), is that I'm feeling overbooked. I'm sure it'll pass and by this afternoon I'll be a whirl of wrapping paper and furniture shopping. But for right now, I'm in a slight panic that not everything is going to get done. I've had to postpone my Dr. appt. for my bruised ribs (which are SO not better), but kids come first, right?
I'm going to go put on some lipstick and plaster on a smile. It's always worked before!
Cover me, I'm going in.
Unfortunately, my eight year old is huddled on the sofa with a case of what I'm pretty sure is strep throat. My BFA in Theatre Arts somehow gives me the knowledge and experience to diagnose him. That, or battling that stupid bacteria for the last ten years. I've a MOM degree. It's like a sixth sense. A sixth sense that get's awakened in the wee hours of the morning when your child has stuff coming out of him that should just not BE.
Can I give it back? Is that an option? I don't remember checking that particular box.
By the way, whatever happened to Aaron being the iron man in the family? This is the second time the kid's been sick this year. I blame the disgusting breeding ground of germs in which he spends 8 hours a day.
Some people merely call it 'the elementary school.' My name has more flair.
You know how I don't work, right? I'm a stay at home mom, and I teach one afternoon a week. And volunteer at the above breeding ground one day a week. And do odd jobs for the theatre. And cook for my home group every Wednesday. And make sure all my family has clean clothes, vacuumed floors, clean bathrooms and are fed at least two meals 7 days a week. Somehow, even though I don't work, my days are always completely full. For Christmas this year, I have added tasks: getting gifts and door prizes for the company Christmas party, gift certificates for same, wrapping presents, hosting several parties at the house (so far I'm up to 4), sewing several projects for friends and family, making goodie baskets for AAA Electric's customers (which will include two solid days of baking),and currently top on my list of things to do is get new furniture for Nolan's office. It was repainted several months ago, and he's ready to have the pictures back up on the wall and someplace for people to sit when he bawls them out.
I'm glad I don't work for him, anymore. He FIRED me. He fired HIS MOTHER, too. We're both still a little bitter about it.
(In actuality it had something to do with taxes, and we make more money now than we did befopre, but that's beside the point. HE STILL FIRED US. And he didn't even do it face to face. He fired me OVER THE PHONE. Chuh.)
But that's a post for another day.
What I'm saying in the midst of all the whining and complaining that this post has turned out to be (er, sorry), is that I'm feeling overbooked. I'm sure it'll pass and by this afternoon I'll be a whirl of wrapping paper and furniture shopping. But for right now, I'm in a slight panic that not everything is going to get done. I've had to postpone my Dr. appt. for my bruised ribs (which are SO not better), but kids come first, right?
I'm going to go put on some lipstick and plaster on a smile. It's always worked before!
Cover me, I'm going in.
This is one of those posts for Granny, so she can see all the cute. If you like cute pictures of theatre kids, you can stay, too.
( Ethan's play and AJ's hair... )
My friend Stephanie just brought back the platter that we trade back and forth all filled up with goodies, so I'm going to go have some breakfast. Tra la la!
( Ethan's play and AJ's hair... )
My friend Stephanie just brought back the platter that we trade back and forth all filled up with goodies, so I'm going to go have some breakfast. Tra la la!
(Carrie and the children run through the morning routine, hair combing, breakfast eating, tooth brushing, and she explains the schedule for later in the day.)
Carrie. So when you get home from school, I'll have packed your bag and I'll take you out to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for the weekend.
Ethan. (Frowns) But Dad's gone.
Carrie. (has only had a sip of coffee at this point in the morning) Mmmhm.
Ethan. If dad's gone, then who'll protect you if the zombies attack? I'm in charge of that when he's gone.
Carrie. There's going to be a zombie attack this weekend? And you're in charge of what, exactly?
Ethan. There might be a zombie attack this weekend. And I'm in charge of shooting them. You don't know how to shoot a gun.
Carrie. And you do?
Ethan. I can figure it out. If you're not protected, they'll get you.
Aaron. (Munches on toast) Makes sense.
Carrie. (under breath) None of this makes sense.
Ethan. I'll stay, just in case.
Carrie. No, pumpkin, I'll be fine.
Ethan. (Frowns) Are you sure?
Carrie. (Wishes to God for having drunk more coffee before having this conversation) Yes. Katie and Abbey (the Labrador retrievers) are here. They'll protect me.
Ethan. Katie would, but Abbey will be worthless.
Aaron. (munches on toast) That's true.
****
( Just another Friday at our house. )
Carrie. So when you get home from school, I'll have packed your bag and I'll take you out to Grandma's and Grandpa's house for the weekend.
Ethan. (Frowns) But Dad's gone.
Carrie. (has only had a sip of coffee at this point in the morning) Mmmhm.
Ethan. If dad's gone, then who'll protect you if the zombies attack? I'm in charge of that when he's gone.
Carrie. There's going to be a zombie attack this weekend? And you're in charge of what, exactly?
Ethan. There might be a zombie attack this weekend. And I'm in charge of shooting them. You don't know how to shoot a gun.
Carrie. And you do?
Ethan. I can figure it out. If you're not protected, they'll get you.
Aaron. (Munches on toast) Makes sense.
Carrie. (under breath) None of this makes sense.
Ethan. I'll stay, just in case.
Carrie. No, pumpkin, I'll be fine.
Ethan. (Frowns) Are you sure?
Carrie. (Wishes to God for having drunk more coffee before having this conversation) Yes. Katie and Abbey (the Labrador retrievers) are here. They'll protect me.
Ethan. Katie would, but Abbey will be worthless.
Aaron. (munches on toast) That's true.
****
( Just another Friday at our house. )
I've been crazy busy. As in, running all day, every day, with no time to do anything remotely relaxing like reading my friends list or blog roll. Home group is tonight, so I'm spending the day cleaning and cooking, and tonight also final dress of South Pacific, which is shaping up to be a really great (if sort of long) show. Rodgers and Hammerstein, man. They had a a lot to say, and weren't afraid to write an almost SEVEN MINUTE overture. (ALT has cut it down to three something, thankfully. We don't want Nolan and AJ falling asleep before the show even starts. Ethan would have to drive home.)
Anyhow, I'm dropping by to share a story with you all. Aaron's third grade teacher, who was incidentally, also Ethan's third grade teacher, got married to her boyfriend this past weekend. They're both twenty-seven and completely adorable. Shea (AJ's teacher) is a great girl, and a wonderful teacher, and Brian is as cute as he can be. Brian has Brain cancer. Two tumors right now, in fact. There was a story about them in the Amarillo GLobe News this past weekend, and it made me smile through tears. (Which is totally my favorite emotion. ;))
So anyway. Read that. You won't be disappointed. I'm glad that my sons have had the opportunity to know and love Shea and to meet Brian. Prayers for them would be appreciated as well. And sending good vibes to me for opening night. Maybe I'll be back next week when life settles down a little. In the meantime, I'm off to find a remedy for puffy, sleep-deprived eyes and bake for the next several hours. Maybe that IS the remedy for puffiness! I'll let you know.
Y'all have a great rest of the week!
Anyhow, I'm dropping by to share a story with you all. Aaron's third grade teacher, who was incidentally, also Ethan's third grade teacher, got married to her boyfriend this past weekend. They're both twenty-seven and completely adorable. Shea (AJ's teacher) is a great girl, and a wonderful teacher, and Brian is as cute as he can be. Brian has Brain cancer. Two tumors right now, in fact. There was a story about them in the Amarillo GLobe News this past weekend, and it made me smile through tears. (Which is totally my favorite emotion. ;))
So anyway. Read that. You won't be disappointed. I'm glad that my sons have had the opportunity to know and love Shea and to meet Brian. Prayers for them would be appreciated as well. And sending good vibes to me for opening night. Maybe I'll be back next week when life settles down a little. In the meantime, I'm off to find a remedy for puffy, sleep-deprived eyes and bake for the next several hours. Maybe that IS the remedy for puffiness! I'll let you know.
Y'all have a great rest of the week!
&hearts - I'm glad I'm a stay at home mom. I wouldn't ever have time to do anything if I had an actual JOB to go to.
&hearts - Speaking of my job, I have 14 girls in my theatre three and four class who are going to be a LOT of fun. I'm going to do movie monologues/scenes with them, so if you have any favorite movie scenes from the silver screen (featuring two high school-aged girls, appropriate for same), please do share.
&hearts - the little old ladies were ten deep at the Clinique counter, today. I guess I'm the only girl under 60 that uses that? It was a good free gift with purchase, though. Go check it out. Oddly enough, there were no little old ladies at the MAC counter. They don't like glitter mascara and loud music? Tee hee.
&hearts - I'm bringing back the word "codswallop." Hide and watch.
( Cute kid story under the cut... )
&hearts - The boys are enrolled in Musical Theatre class at ALT. They had a good time and AJ said that their warm-up routine was to "Darn Yankees." When I questioned this, he replied, "We have to be 13 before we can say the real name of that musical." Thanks, Jason. Ensuring the innocence of the kiddos. Too bad I say worse than that on your average Tuesday.
&hearts - What. The. Hell. Why in the world would people need these? I'm sweating my ass off trying to GET my ass off, and now I find out that there are actually people that wear padded panties to make their butts huge? And that's somehow trendy? That's ASININE, if you'll forgive the pun. A load of codswallop. Please tell me who they are so that I can maybe stand next to them so that my rear end will look smaller by comparison.
&hearts - I love, and I mean LOVE blessing other people. Especially when it's something that they don't expect.
&hearts - Speaking of being blessed, I seriously hope that my breasts stay within the confines of the swimsuit that I'm wearing in South Pacific. There may be some duct tape/bailing wire rigging involved. I tried it on again today, and this time I stood in front of the mirror for a full twenty seconds before I burst into hysterical, cellulite-induced sobs. I think that's progress. I also made a sarong and matching headscarf out of gorgeous, donated, sari silk that's pretty freaking adorable, if I do say so myself. It covers most of the atrocities, so it's still safe to come see the show.
I think that's all. Have a great weekend, y'all!
&hearts - Speaking of my job, I have 14 girls in my theatre three and four class who are going to be a LOT of fun. I'm going to do movie monologues/scenes with them, so if you have any favorite movie scenes from the silver screen (featuring two high school-aged girls, appropriate for same), please do share.
&hearts - the little old ladies were ten deep at the Clinique counter, today. I guess I'm the only girl under 60 that uses that? It was a good free gift with purchase, though. Go check it out. Oddly enough, there were no little old ladies at the MAC counter. They don't like glitter mascara and loud music? Tee hee.
&hearts - I'm bringing back the word "codswallop." Hide and watch.
( Cute kid story under the cut... )
&hearts - The boys are enrolled in Musical Theatre class at ALT. They had a good time and AJ said that their warm-up routine was to "Darn Yankees." When I questioned this, he replied, "We have to be 13 before we can say the real name of that musical." Thanks, Jason. Ensuring the innocence of the kiddos. Too bad I say worse than that on your average Tuesday.
&hearts - What. The. Hell. Why in the world would people need these? I'm sweating my ass off trying to GET my ass off, and now I find out that there are actually people that wear padded panties to make their butts huge? And that's somehow trendy? That's ASININE, if you'll forgive the pun. A load of codswallop. Please tell me who they are so that I can maybe stand next to them so that my rear end will look smaller by comparison.
&hearts - I love, and I mean LOVE blessing other people. Especially when it's something that they don't expect.
&hearts - Speaking of being blessed, I seriously hope that my breasts stay within the confines of the swimsuit that I'm wearing in South Pacific. There may be some duct tape/bailing wire rigging involved. I tried it on again today, and this time I stood in front of the mirror for a full twenty seconds before I burst into hysterical, cellulite-induced sobs. I think that's progress. I also made a sarong and matching headscarf out of gorgeous, donated, sari silk that's pretty freaking adorable, if I do say so myself. It covers most of the atrocities, so it's still safe to come see the show.
I think that's all. Have a great weekend, y'all!
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