Tuesday, September 23, 2014


You'll have to please excuse me, I'm still in shock over my oldest son turning twenty-one years old. I mean, it's not like I didn't know it was going to happen, I just didn't expect it to happen so quickly. I kind of thought I could will it away with my super mom powers, but no such luck. I was very happy  for him to have a birthday, I would just prefer it be a number of my choosing and turning twenty- one wasn't the number I had in mind. I was thinking something more along the lines of twenty again. I know I should want him to be little again, and sometimes I do, but he has come a long way since then and let's face it, those were the terror years. I kind of like him being able to make his own sandwiches and having the ability to explain to me what the problem is without all the crying until I guess the appropriate response! It's much better this way, I just don't want him to be legally allowed to drink. Not that I think he's a big drinker, or going to be one; I just think this is the last line being crossed into official adulthood and I do not like it.

My youngest, my daughter, is very close to turning sixteen and, as all children tend to do, she assumes it will be all about her. She has been telling me about all of her plans for her sixteenth birthday and frankly, I just do not approve. She wants some sort of a cabin party. Meaning that she wants to rent a cabin and have all of those other little sixteen year old girls come over and spend the night and scream and yell, watch movies,talk about boys and blah blah blah. Let me first clarify that we do have a house. She even has her own bedroom. So the fact that I am being asked to pay good money to rent another house in the same town for them to sleep in seems a bit absurd to me.


The other day while trying to nicely explain to my daughter that I would like to throw her a Sweet Sixteen party, it occurred to me for the first time that this is not all about her. This about me. Sure, we celebrate her every year on this date but I don't really think the score is even when I lay it all out in front of me. She informed me the other day that it's not my birthday and therefore not my decision. This is when the light bulb went off for me. I then asked her exactly what she did on this day sixteen years ago to deserve a party in her honor. She was a little taken aback at my question and speechless for the first time in the sixteen years since we've become acquainted with one another, so I answered for her. "Nothing. You did nothing. I did all of the work. You were absolutely no help to me at all as I tried to squeeze your little human body out of mine so that I could be one with myself again. The only thing you did was hang around in my womb reeking havoc and sucking me dry of nutrition while making me piss my pants every time I had to sneeze or cough. I think I should be the one celebrated  on this day."

No doubt thinking that my sanity had taken a complete leave of absence, she responded by telling me that is what I have Mother's Day for. She was not born on Mother's Day, and neither were either of my other two children. Which is not only stupid and the wrong date , but brings up another wonderful point. I have three children- so why on Earth do I only have one Mother's Day? Wouldn't it make much more sense if when each of their birthdays rolled around I got a cake for all of my hard work, not to mention my pain and suffering leading up to those days? I think I should definitely get some sort of monetary compensation for the time I spent growing another human inside of my body! Kind of like how people get paid to do experimental drug programs. Ya know? Just to see how she turned out. After all, she has cost an absolute fortune just to maintain and keep her alive over the years! I don't know about the rest of the mothers out there, but at the very least I think I should get double billing on the party invitation or the program for the big event. And just for the record. Nobody is sweet at sixteen.

Enjoy, Barrelassers ;)

Wednesday, August 27, 2014


  I did it, Barrelassers! I said I was going to get on a plane for the first time this year (my 40th year) and I did it! Thanks to my son for joining the Air National Guard and having a graduation seventeen hours driving time from home- I had no other real choice but to get on a plane. I mean I suppose I could have driven it, but I would never risk driving that distance with my teenage daughter being as miserable as teenage daughters are when they are stuck in a car with their parents.

Did I mention that I also managed to make it through eight and a half weeks with my son being away at BMT at Lackland Air Force Base? What about making it through my other son's high school graduation and then moving him into his dorm to start his first year of college? How about the fact that my daughter got her learner's permit and is slowly but surely taking over the driver's seat in our car? I'm not an expert on anything except being right and sometimes being a smart ass, but even I know when enough is enough. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that my children are trying to push me over the edge. The edge of what I do not know, but I am certain there is an edge because I have been teetering on it all year long.

I've had a roller coaster of a year, and the year is still not over. But I have made it so far and I plan to kick and scream my way through what's left of it. Hide and watch me. Actually, do not hide and watch me; that would be weird as hell.

Armed with a permit and not afraid to use it!

After a very long, stressful eight and a half weeks, I finally got my hands on my Airman!
Armed with a bright future and not afraid to use it!

Armed with a diploma and not afraid to use it!
Armed with hugs and not afraid to use them! Leaving him at college :(

Enjoy, Barrelassers ;)

Saturday, July 5, 2014


Most everyone is aware that my husband regularly calls me Lucy, as in Lucy Ricardo (Lucille Ball) and most of my pals know why. I often unintentionally conduct myself the same as Lucy would. There's never a shortage of oddball behavior on my part. I tend to be clumsy, and almost everything I try to do starts off as a simple task yet, somehow turns into an entire sitcom worth of material.

I've been hiking my hind-end down to my mailbox and back each day hoping today will be the day that I get my first piece of mail from my barrelassin' son who is currently away at boot camp. Today was my lucky day! All of the mothers in the Airmen's Wingmom group have been posting daily about receiving their first piece of mail which contains all of the graduation information needed to attend the ceremony. Well, my friends, today was my lucky day!! I got the letter. I was so excited and I couldn't wait to tear it open! I was sure to take a photo of it first for his scrapbook, and then I snatched it up-along with two more letters that for a few seconds, made me even more excited when I saw the address. For a fleeting moment I thought he had also written me other letters as well. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks! I wrote this child a letter and mailed it to myself. And if that's not bad enough, my husband did the same thing!!

Now, I've been to school, and I've sent and received mail for many years. I'm 100% familiar with this process and how it all works. The only thing I can figure is that because I've been so busy the last couple of months sending out invitations to my other son's high school graduation, and most recently have been mailing out thank you cards to everyone, my mind must have been playing tricks on me and I was likely a wreck and crying when I addressed the envelope, too, that for some reason I put all of his mailing information on the sender's designated space of the envelope and my name and address in the receiving party's designated space. In this particular case, I am the sender and the receiver. I just can't wait to see what I said. As far as my husband goes, he has a much better excuse. When he told me he had a letter to mail to our son, I showed him my letter on the table so that he could copy the address onto a separate envelope because mine was already sealed and stamped. Naturally, without any thought he has simply copied it the way I had it written out, but you would think between the two of us, one of us would've caught this mistake. I guess now I can start calling him Ricky! Luuuuucy!...I'm home!

Have a good one, Barrelassers :)

Thursday, June 26, 2014


When your first born leaves on a plane for boot camp:
 You get your butt out of the bed, cry because you haven't heard from him since you let that big bad plane take him away yesterday,  eat two Swiss Cake Rolls for breakfast, four Reese's Peanut Butter Cups for lunch, pull yourself together and open the Captain Morgan's for a little day-drinking!!

Reading the bottle now, I see that it is Caribbean Rum with Spice & other Natural flavors. "Other natural flavors" being the salt of my tears I presume. I do not feel the Caribbean vibe yet, but I'm still on my first drink- please be patient. I'm perfecting my island accent as you read this and I may very well become a pirate before dinnertime. So ha!
 I realize I do not possess the only child to ever leave home for boot camp, I do however, possess the only child to ever leave MY home for boot camp and, for that, I deserve a reward. Maybe I'm too sensitive or I'm just a big baby but, I was not built for this. It takes a special kind of strength to send a child away and willingly allow someone to yell at them night and day and I do not possess  this super power. My super power is beating people up who yell at my babies, not cheering them on. He is a fine young man and while they might make him stronger and tougher during the next eight weeks, what exactly is their plan for me? Freakin' know-it alls forgot about lil ole me! I know I should have planned better for this moment, and sure, I plan for the future. But my idea of planning for the future is asking my teenage daughter how many more years she plans to be in the shower so I know whether to try and hold it or go ahead and pee in the woods.
So on that note, as Matchbox Twenty once said "reach down your hand in your pocket, pull out some hope for me; it's been a long day." And no need to sworry bout me, I can handwle my wicker. Slow long fer now.
I'm going to do some lite to moderate day drinking, so if you need me, I'll be lite to moderately drunk. It's five o'clock Rum-where. Arrrgg!!

Special thanks to my nephew for texting my phone to make sure it's working properly in case my baby calls home! Keep up the good work!

This one's on me, Barrelassers :)

Monday, March 31, 2014


I recently went "walkin' in Memphis" or more like a run for fun and several car rides all over Memphis. So here's what ya need to know before ya go.

1) DO visit Stax Records Museum. This place is amazing and has a plethora of information on the history and early days of soul music.
DON'T try to walk around with a beer. I was at a private function where the beer was served to me. I didn't take my own and I'm sure they will not let you walk in off the street carrying one :).

2) DO visit Graceland. The famous home of Elvis Presley. It is very interesting and has tons of information on the King of Rock n' Roll.
DON'T try to go upstairs. They won't let you ;)

3)  DO visit the Memphis Zoo! It's a really nice Zoo and has some great animal exhibits.
DON'T think you're gonna feed a Giraffe without possibly getting french- kissed.

4) DO visit the Loraine Motel- the site of Dr. Martin Luther King's assassination. You can learn a lot, and even if you don't learn anything- it's a gigantic piece of history and worth seeing in person. DO prepare yourself for the overwhelming emotion that will build up inside of you as you approach the site. You may have to hold back a tear.
DON'T go in the pouring rain if you want to take pictures outside (and you will definitely want to)- DON'T let your husband try to take a picture with his phone as you drive by the Loraine Motel in the rain and almost run a stop sign and nearly cause an accident that could kill his wife and then blame it on you for freaking him out when you scream AAAHHH! so that he will pay attention and stop the car so you (the wife) don't die.

There's lots of DO's when visiting Memphis. Go to Beale Street, eat at B.B. King's, go somewhere and listen to some live blues music, ride the trolley, and buy a BIG ASS BEER on the street. (I didn't do that this trip, but I did it on an earlier trip to Memphis.) 
With all the DO's in Memphis, try to remember a few more things not to do if you want your trip to run a little smoother. Don't step on your husband's big toe with your high heel when he's in his bare feet; it will hurt him. Don't be overly confident with your comforter on your hotel bed, if you tug hard and your hand slips off, you will punch yourself in the nose really hard. And if you must do that, don't do it while you're on the phone with the school counselor because you can't scream or cry until you hang up.

And last but not least, expect your kids to do the exact opposite of the list you left for them before you left town. Expect everyone to be late for school, get hit in the face with a soccer ball and almost break their nose, expect them to need way more gas money than you thought, expect them to melt the red solo cups sitting too close to the stove instead of drinking from them so they didn't have to dirty all the glasses, and definitely expect them to want more pizza.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Monday, March 24, 2014


My barrelassin' husband is a huge fan of the Waffle House. I like it okay, but it's definitely somewhere I have to visit in moderation. It has basically become the tradition that we eat at a Waffle House on our way out of town. We take care of everything in need of our attention, e.g., car rental, gas, going over a long list with the kids of what NOT to do while we're away; it just seems more realistic and specific than what "to do."

Anyway, our oldest son took us to pick up the rental car we had arranged to take to Memphis, TN. The three of stopped off at the Waffle House to get our usual. It was very busy, which is typical for a Waffle House, but for the first time, they jotted our last name down on a list they were compiling of customers waiting to be seated. It didn't take an unacceptable amount of time before we were seated, and we all knew exactly what we wanted. I ate and, in a sense, people watched and kept up with conversation while I pretty much thought the same thoughts that I have every time I visit one of their establishments: this place is loud.

This is what I want for the Waffle House; peace. Just peace. If for no other reason than simply for the health of the employees. It has occurred to me that more often than not; that place has the potential to be a complete disaster; a hot mess if you will ,(that should definitely be the name of at least one of their plates.)

As we were preparing to leave I stood in the doorway, watching with my son as my husband paid the bill. We stood there silently, looking around; our eyes darting around from one near catastrophic event to the next. It was then that my son turned to me and announced with not even a hint of sadness, "I could never work here." It was then that I realized I was not alone in my thoughts. I responded to him with excitement, knowing that he was having the exact same experience as I was. Please do not misunderstand what I am saying. We enjoy the food and the atmosphere at the Waffle House; it is a one of a kind experience. No matter what city or town we happen to be in when we dine in one, we have always encountered kind, helpful staff and good food. We will continue to visit Waffle Houses all over the place- I'm certain. But like I explained to my son:
  This place makes me a nervous wreck, sometimes. All of the hollering, and screaming from the minute I enter the building; everyone on the staff greeting me with a screaming HELLO!!! The only quiet words spoken are the ones spoken when we're actually ordering our meal. And although our waitress has written our order down on a tiny green notepad- from that moment on, she screams everything we just said to a cook close enough to have probably heard us when we ordered  it had it not been for all the clinging and clanging, the banging and slamming of glasses and plates in the over-crowded restaurant. Silverware seems to always be flying everywhere, yet I never actually see it; I know it's there, because I hear it being thrown together the entire time I'm there. It sounds like all the dishes are being thrown and broken, but they're not- they're obviously very durable. At any given moment you can hear children speaking, a group of men and women laughing loudly, see one coffee-drinking man at the counter telling everyone around him his story, and all while listening to either a country or rock song from 1985. It makes me wonder, son, what would happen if I walked into a Waffle House one day and shouted- 'ALRIGHT! EVERYBODY JUST CALM THE F@#* DOWN! EVERYBODY FREAKIN' RELAX!' And then trail off with something like- 'today everyone is just gonna sit back and enjoy their coffee. We're all gonna sit back and take in the sites and some of us are gonna quietly read the newspaper and ponder about some things.'

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, March 22, 2014


I've been far too busy to post lately, but you can be sure it wasn't due to taking care of myself or my looks. I made a trip to the grocery store so that I could be sure my teenage/adult children would have plenty of food to eat while I'm out of town, which is probably just a big waste of time since they'll likely eat out the entire time I'm gone. I'm leaving for Memphis tomorrow, and apparently only half of me was prepared to leave the house, because I just dug the other half of me out of the bottom of a grocery bag. I mean I knew all along I would probably need to grab something for my trip, as I usually do, but after returning home and opening this particular bag, I had to ask myself...what in the hell must I look like? I better get my act together, and quick! It would appear that I was missing the color of my hair, my eyelashes, my fingernails, the color of my toenails, and the scent and feel of my soft, cocoa radiant, non-greasy skin. It seems the only thing I was prepared to leave my house with was the hair on my legs and beneath my underarms!

                                                                    It takes all of this...

 to equal this...

And a good pair of heels. Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Sunday, February 23, 2014


I just read an article, or actually a blog post about proper airplane attire and it got me thinking...I realize that a long time ago people dressed up to get on a plane. This was also  a time when people dressed up to go to the gas station, but that's beside the point. And even though I've never been on a plane, I do still think people should, at the very least, dress casual and decent. I don't know why I have that opinion, but I do. It's based on absolutely nothing and no previous experience at all. That being said, I noticed a reoccurring position seemed to be held by a lot of the people commenting on the post. Aside from the ones who declared comfort is the most important thing, there seemed to be many who scoffed at the idea of comfort on a plane, and firmly expressed their opinion on the air-traveler's attire.

The word "professional" was used an awful lot. "People should look professional when flying on a plane"  some demanded. "I always dress like a professional when traveling by plane!" said a few more. So while it left me questioning the proper airplane attire, I was left with what I believe is a much more appropriate question. Professional what? Why is it important to look professional on an airplane, and does this even make any sense? Should your chosen outfit for the flight be based on your actual profession? I mean if we're trying to be professional here, should Joe Blow from McDonalds wear his McDonalds' uniform? Should a Yoga Instructor wear their Yoga clothes? If you work in maintenance, should you wear a maintenance uniform, complete with name badge and a ring of keys clipped to your belt loop?

I suppose people with desk jobs, or any profession that requires a dress or suit and tie would look pretentious and they would scoff and look down their noses at the other passengers- or wait, that's what First Class is for, right?

All I can say is, should the need arise for you to fly from one place to another, Heaven help you if you're a hooker!

Sooooo. DO or DO NOT wear this on a plane? ;)

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Sunday, February 2, 2014


 Keeping it real, I'd like to say, that I do not watch Football. I do not follow Football at all. Unless, of course, my kid is playing for the team, and even then, I have no clue what in the hell is going on-at any time during the game. And my kid now plays Basketball, so that really leaves me out of the loop.

Real life conversation in my house during the Super Bowl XLVIII:
Me: "So, we live in Tennessee, so I'm gonna pull for the Broncos because of Peyton Manning. That is the only way I can pick a team to pull for."
Barrelassin' Jay: "Sounds good."

Me: I know absolutely nothing about this game, Jay. But I know that Peyton Manning is a big deal. What position does he play?

Barrelassin' "Jay: He's the QB."

Me: "Well, I know everyone loves the QB! That's an important guy! But tell me this...I've actually paid some attention to this game, and I'm wondering, is Peyton's only job to throw the ball at someone else and see what they do with it? Like, he gets the ball, waits until he's almost attacked, and picks a guy to throw it to, and then what? He just stands around to see if he made the right decision?

Barrelassin' Jay: "Sort of, but not exactly. The QB usually calls the plays. He has a lot on him."

Me: "So...he guesses who to throw the ball to, in this case, the guy who can't catch at all, and then he stands there and waits to see what happens, and the play was all his idea to begin with, and none of the ideas worked, yet, he's the only one on the whole entire team I've ever heard of? Why does everyone want to be the QB, and why does he get to make all the commercials, and make all the money, if that's all he does?" 

Barrelassin' Jay: "It takes a lot of skill to throw that football, and not everyone can do it."

Me: "What about the guys who catch the ball, and make the touchdowns?! This is the dumbest game, EVER!" 

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)


Everyone's going on about the Super Bowl. Worried about which team will win, the Denver Broncos or the Seattle Seahawks? The commercials, the food, the whole nine yards (pun intended.) Me, I'm over here on this rainy Groundhog's Day, simply wondering if we're going to go through all of this again tomorrow? Will every day now technically  be the day after the Super Bowl, but still the day of the Super Bowl?

  Will the fans actually now be watching the Super Bowl every single day, thus meaning every day is Super Bowl Sunday? I do not think is a coincidence, and was clearly scheduled by a Football fan. I guess we won't know 'til tomorrow, but either way, I think we should make darn sure that we make the very best of today, in case we have to relive it all over again tomorrow.

And just throwing this out there, I think the Super Bowl is stealing all the spotlight from that little Groundhog. So, for those of you who don't know yet, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today, therefore confirming six more weeks of winter. Truthfully, I think we all saw that coming.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, February 1, 2014


11) "It's colder than a witch's titty." (How do we know this?)

10) "I swear!" (And yet it makes everything sound much more believable.)

09) "I promise, I won't tell anyone else." (If you have to make someone swear to secrecy, you probably already distrust this person a little. Don't tell them)

08) "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times." (Who's keeping up this?)

07) "If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that, I'd be rich." (Remember, it takes 2,000 nickels to make $100.00. While $100.00 is very handy, it's hardly enough to make anyone "rich." Now imagine, how many times you would actually have to hear something to get rich by way of the mighty nickel.)

06) "I'm coughing my head off." (Coughing is uncomfortable, annoying, and sometimes painful-but your whole head? Right off your body?)

05) "I laughed so hard I cried." (While this does happen, most people actually tear up a little at most while laughing. It takes a really good laugh, to make one actually cry.)

04) "Hurry, I'm about to pee in my pants!" (It's certainly best to get to the restroom when you need to go, but is everyone really about to actually pee in their pants before they can get to the restroom?)

03) "I could've died!!" (Could you? Could you really have just died by something as simple as hearing some sorted information?)

02) "You're giving me a headache." (Is someone really giving you a headache, or are they just annoying the hell out of you?)

And the number one lie people tell to make a point -determined by me, and comes in several forms is...

01) "You almost gave me a heart attack!" "I nearly had a heart attack!" "I thought I had a heart attack!"

(Think of how many times you would have nearly had an actual heart attack, or thought you actually had a heart attack over your lifetime, if this were a true statement.)

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Saturday, January 18, 2014


In honor of my fortieth birthday, I'm making a list of forty facts that I'm fine with. Let's see how this goes down.

1) I can bounce a quarter off my butt, and I just know it's not bouncing the way it's supposed to. Fine with it. I still don't even know why that's important. I can bounce a quarter off of any surface. I assure you it's not a special butt. Try it.
2) Not everyone finds me amusing. It's totally fine. 
3) Only one person has me in their Google Circles. It's Bret Michaels- I'm more than fine with that. In fact, I like saying it.
4) I've had a headache for as long as I can remember due to my deviated Septum. It's okay. I would rather have a headache for forty years, than have gauze stuck up my nose for five days after the surgery to repair it. I would totally freak out!
5) My house is almost never spotless. That's cool with me. I would have to work very hard to make that happen and I'd much rather be making a mess.
6) I've had one strand of Christmas lights on my porch for more than a year. They've seen two Christmases, and I really don't care. 
7) I'm not rich. I'm fine with it for now, but seriously, it's time to get that mess under control. 
8) I just got judged for wanting to be rich- doesn't bother me in the least. Judge away. I like lots of different things, and the only way I know to get them legally is money. I have things to do, therefore, I'm gonna need to be rich. 
9) I have this one little scar above my right eye. It doesn't bother me. It reminds of me of a really fun time.
10) The garbage truck doesn't come by my house. Whatever. It's a small sacrifice to make for having  garbage.
11) There's weapons and musical instruments sitting all over in random places throughout my house. I don't really know where they go, so I'm okay with moving them over if I need to sit down.
12) There's crutches behind my bedroom door. They've been there for about five years. Nobody in my house is on crutches. Oh well, they're not bothering me.
13) My mom got the good eyelashes. They skipped me and my little sister and daughter got them instead. It's all good. I just glue some on when I want them.
14) I just used my birthday and guilt tripped my daughter in to rubbing my back. I'm fine with it. She tried to bribe me first with a birthday present  if I would take her shopping. That's just how we roll. 
15) I usually pick out my own Christmas and birthday presents. Doesn't bother me, I don't have to pretend I like what I get.
16) Four people follow my blog, but hundreds read it. Followers mean absolutely nothing in the world of blogging. It's the traffic that keeps coming back that's most important. And people never comment on it publicly, only email or message me. I wouldn't comment on some of the things I come up with, either. ;)
17) I sound like a dying sheep when I sing. I'm cool with that. I don't sing for a living.
18) I've done some really stupid things in my life. Fine with that, too. Most of them were really fun, and they've made me who I am today, and I happen to like me a lot. 
19) I don't have actual neighbors. I did that on purpose.
20) My husband thinks Jennifer Aniston is hot. I couldn't care less. As long as he's team Jenn and not team Angelina/Brad, I'm happy.
21) My oldest son had absolutely no interest in college. He tried to give it a whirl twice- for about a week each time- I'm not bothered by this, I had no interest in the First grade, I know where he's coming from.
22) I didn't go to college. It wasn't in the cards for me. Rummy, Knock, and Bullshit, (all card games) were in the cards for me. I still have time to go if I want to.
23) My teenage daughter can be a real piece of work sometimes. I just let it go, I was a real piece of work when I was her age, too. Besides, I've already put the same curse on her that my mother put on me, and wished her a daughter that acts just like her someday. She's living proof that the curse works.
24) Everyone in my house wrestles, uses choke holds, kicks and practices new moves on one another- I just step over or around them and try keep it moving.
25) People tease me about talking a lot. I laugh with them. Plus I'm obviously keeping their attention.
26) Some people actually don't pay any attention, and aren't actually listening to me. I don't mind that either, because most of the time, I really am just talking to hear myself talk.
27) Eddie Van Halen didn't wait for me to grow up. Thank goodness or I wouldn't have met my awesome husband. He can play a guitar and I've never had to wait for him to get out of rehab.
28) Some people are Gay. Why should I care? Some people aren't Gay and nobody is complaining about that.
29) I have a small hole right in the crotch of my favorite pair of shorts. Makes no difference to me. I'm gonna wear those suckers until it offends someone, and even then, I'll probably still wear them for spite.
30) The strings in celery: Completely fine with it.
31) People ALWAYS mistake me for my younger sister's mother when we go out shopping together. Not insulted at all. It always gives us a good laugh, and good laughs are hard to come by these days.
32) My sons are hanging out with their friends on my birthday. I'm not even the tiniest bit upset. I'm probably just going to finish reading my book anyway, now I can do it without either of them interrupting me.
33) My husband calls me Lucy because I can be very clumsy. I take it as a compliment,  physical comedy is not easy to pull off.
34) People with a different opinion than me: So?
35) Crying babies in restaurants or stores: They're just babies, unless I'm hungover.
36) Movies with subtitles: After a minute or two, I don't even see them.
37) Fat people: don't care. Not affected one way or the other.
38) Curse words: everyone's had at least one of those days.
39) Barking dogs: barely even notice them.
40) Backseat drivers: Fine by me. Okay- that's complete bull. That will drive me crazier than almost anything, and I may actually drive worse just to piss them off.

Happy birthday to me.
Enjoy, Barrelassers :)

Monday, January 6, 2014


Oh the weather outside is frightening...no, really, I mean FLIPPIN'  FRIGHTENING! I'm not going out there, I don't have to; I can see it. I'm holed up in a hotel room in town to keep from being holed up in my house and snowed or maybe even iced in at this point.

I do not have the time nor the patience for a snowstorm or an ice storm, or even a thunderstorm, because I am knee-deep in the planning of mine and my two girls' 40TH,   birthday party/celebration/ extravaganza, call it what you will. While the season is Winter, I'm in a wonderland with all the details! We're so excited and we can't wait to celebrate. Now if the weather could make a swift shift and cooperate, we get keep things in order. The cake design has been underway and nothing's gonna stop us now!

At this time I don't know what's crazier, the fact that I'm walking around with a can f Lysol  spraying everyone and every thing in site, (door handles, remote controls, computers, phones, people) or the fact that it's twelve degrees outside, and my daughter and her friend thought they were going to walk to a nearby store and purchase swimsuits so that they could swim indoors to break up the mounting spells of pure boredom. First of all, I advised against the walk, but I didn't put my foot down. I made a simple suggestion. "How about you walk around outside for a minute and then decide if you think you should make the trip." I let them make their own decision; I'm okay with letting them be involved. And I knew that they would never make it that far, which proved to be true when I heard them come back in moments later, stating that it is, in fact, too cold to walk anywhere. See how that works? The girls are in the nice warm room, I don't have to worry about them, nobody is mad at me for it, and it was all their idea! When my husband returns from work, we will drive them to get swimsuits. Oh wait, now I know the answer to what's crazier. Probably the fact that we live in a town where the nearby store still sells swimsuits when it's twelve degrees outside. People like us...they see us coming from a mile away.

Enjoy, Barrelassers :)