September 28, 2007
Olive is also apparently quite the social butterfly but very serious when it comes to her work, especially puzzles and blocks. I swear the child is going to be an engineer or an architect - or do all almost-4-year-olds like to draw out floorplans? And discuss the pros and cons of different types of "structures" (her word). And lest we forget the interior design of her creations - she told me recently that the pillows we have in the gameroom are too bright for that room (they are) and that we need either some "reddish-brown" or "greenish" ones (we do). It so reminds me of a 3 year old Peach chastising the homeowners' paint color choices on Trading Spaces ("That color is too dark for a kitchen. It looks like a bat cave."). Again, right on the money.
Speaking of money, will you buy me this? If not, I think I know a couple of darling gals who could design, build, and decorate it for me.
September 26, 2007
September 23, 2007
I was quite industrious out in the yard on Friday, but I had to stop myself before I completely ripped out the front bed - the only one the builder's "landscapers" put in. I've taken a lot out of there already, but as soon as it gets a little cooler, say somewhere in the 80s, I'm going medieval on all that mismatched, bargain basement, totally predictable crap they threw in there. God only knows what I'll find when I start digging, but I'm betting it won't be money.
Saturday we had a great dinner with my best homegirl from high school and Karla May and the Geej. All the kids made great use of the restaurant's play area, and due to the impending plague invading my body, I didn't even freak about all the sand. I hate sand. Especially around food. We were also entertained by T-Bone's homeboys' band, and they even managed to NOT break up in between sets, as is usually the case. I thought for sure my dirty birds would crash on the way home, but thankfully they made it in the house and in and out of the bath before toddling off to bed. And then I also toddled off at the stroke of 10, and in the bed I stayed until about 7:30 this morning.
Which brings me to today, and the worthlessness detailed above. Now, just reviewing my lameness has exhausted me, and I'm heading back to the couch. Night, y'all.
September 19, 2007
September 17, 2007
Las ninas take on the whole thing? Well, they LOVED riding the shuttle bus, they loved the kids' activities (save for "the beach," thankfully), and they loved hanging out under the trees and having some snacks and snowcones. The one thing they didn't really love? The MUSIC. I have to agree, it was a little loud over there on the Kiddie Limits stage. Really, they love Sara Hickman. Just not when she seems to be screaming at them. But Asleep at The Wheel from 200 yards away? That was okay. As was the battle of the mariachi bands when we got back to the Republic Square shuttle stop. And, as a bonus, we got the last few pictures we needed to complete our Guitartown collection, so all in all, it was three hours well spent.
Here's the calm before the storm:
* Pronunciation courtesy of Olive.
September 13, 2007
In other news, Mama's gots to get her sleeps tonight because the whole famdamily is heading to the ACL Fest bright and early in the morning. It seems my dear friend M (of Vegas fame) has bestowed 3-day passes upon T-Bone and me, overnighted from St. Louie, even, because that's how much she rawks and rolls. Can you see me grinning? I'm a lucky girl, permanent-scar-the-size-of-a-tennis-ball (really)-as-a-result-of-bizarre-polysporin-allergy, notwithstanding.
September 6, 2007
After finally coming down from the total awesomeness that was the show, I was sticky and stinky and DONE, so I took three Excedrin and hit the biscuit as soon as we got home. This morning, I woke up sore as shit from all the headbangin' and confused as to whether or not I actually saw my ex-beau at the show or just dreamed that I did (jury's still out). Also, in my haste to get to bed, I neglected to wash my face, so I woke up looking like Amy Winehouse's bloated older sister. Yow. On the upside, my frightful appearance inspired me to write a sad sack country song, and I just know it'll be a hit. So far, all I've got is the chorus:
You told me you'd be true
You said we never would break up
But when I woke up, I was all alone
Wearing nothin' but last night's makeup
Have a ROCKIN' weekend, y'all.
September 4, 2007
Now, I actually like the idea of wearing scrubs to work, what with their comfortable, sloppy fit and low maintenance care requirements. They take the stress out of deciding what to wear to work, and I'm envious of people like my cousin the dentist, who has a different set for every day of the week. And lots of backups for the blood and whatnot. But alas, I went to law school instead of medical school because I hate math, and thus, I haven't had, nor will I ever have, a job that allows me to wear scrubs to work.
Which brings me to you poor victims of your own laziness. In case you didn't get the memo, scrubs are NOT your go-to everyday wear UNLESS you are actually working in the medical or dental fields. Perhaps a shampoo professional in a hair salon. Hell, I'll even give you a day care worker, but that's really stretching it. If you do not belong in one of these categories, put down the chili pepper scrubs and WALK AWAY. I know they're comfy. I know they're cheap. And God knows they hide every figure flaw we big girls have to offer. But please. You know you're not a doctor. We know you're not a doctor. So you're not fooling anybody when you show up at HEB on a Sunday morning (yeah, I saw you and all your nasty fishsticks) in your dirtiest scuffs and something like this:
And I don't care that it has a matching scrunchy. Or that it also comes in this:
And I may be speaking out of my area of law here, but I'm pretty sure you'd have grounds for a malpractice suit if your doc showed up for surgery in this: