I'm Not Goin' Down There, YOU Go Down There!

I'm pretty much in love with this blog... and what sucked me in was this post. Aside from the obvious to those who know me there's the simple fact that I am not a fan of basements. ( Thank you Amityville Horror., you ç0©k$u(ker! )
Anyway... this blog is hysterical. I came across it a few months back and actually meant to put up a post about it, but tonight I turned on the 'puter before heading to bed and saw it made it onto the list for Blogs Of Note (well done them!)... so I figured I'd go on and post this since it's like all timely n' shit in blogger world.... and now I'm off to bed, g'nite.

Does Anyone Else Understand Us?

Colin, as most of you know, has been my housemate for YEARS... and here is the perfect example of why:

this conversation began as he walked in the door from work:



Me: dude, the stove top shit the bed.
Colin: (looks around) which one?
Me: uh... (points at sofa) that one.
Colin: huh? 
Me: the one your standing next to, goober.
Colin: oh, I was all worried you meant stuffing.
Me: when have I ever made you stuffing?
Colin: 4 Novembers back when Tyler was here.
Me: right, no... good memory though, but no. It smoked then flames shot out of it. Call me crazy, but electric ranges aren't supposed to do that right?
Colin: nope
Me: please tell Santa I need a new one
Colin: this Santa can't afford it.
Me: (looking at prices on line) Ohhh! I found one, only $7000 and change.
Colin: Oh, yeah, I got that, no problem
Me: pocket change, totally
Colin: totally
Me: If I had a space twice as big, 15' ceilings, and about 100,000 extra dollars, I'd put in an amazing chandelier, a huge hanging pot rack... and get a Viking.
Colin: you'll need a big ass range hood for a Viking
Me: no, I mean a real viking, like with a cool helmet and stuff
Colin: oh, right.. ok... what's he gonna do?
Me: make us oatmeal.
Colin: obviously.
(again... this is why we have lived together for 8+ years...we "get" each other. )

This would be my favorite picture EVER of Colin & I... 'cause I look shitfaced, and he looks all protective.... when in actuality, that night I was dead sober (and the DD for the night- I almost always am) and he was downright pickled... see what happens in a literal blink of an eye? (which is why I look plastered, I blinked right as someone took our picture) I also love the fact that he's wearing a tux and I have on my Great Grandmother's fur shawl... we looked awesome that night! ... I also had a full on black eye from a stupid curtain hanging incident the day before, but I'm quite good with make up :)

What The....

Look, I get it... when magazines put someone on the cover they are going to want the best picture. They will photoshop it. I photoshop pictures all the time... but I do it to remove a zit on someone's face, or enhance the color if the lighting was off. I do NOT try to make someone look thinner/fatter/taller/shorter or like something they are not. There is a HUGE difference between bringing out the best in a picture and totally distorting reality.

Case in point:

WHERE THE FUCK IS HER ARM?!!!

I am so happy my housemate has a subscription to this magazine, because I intend to rip the cover off and save it with that infamous picture of Cindy Crawford in 1998 when ELLE magazine photoshoped out her bellybutton. What they hell are these people thinking? No wonder women (and some men) have such poor body images! Apparently we are expected to not have vital organs, limbs, birthmarks, stretchmarks....or any kind of proof of life really.

*sigh*

Well Played Rabbit... Well Played

There once was a bear and a rabbit and they hated each other. The bear and rabbit then stumbled upon a magical talking tree. The tree said: "I will grant you 3 wishes a piece if you will stop fighting!"

So the bear went first. "I wish all the bears in the forest to be females." And all the bears in the forest turned into females.

The rabbit said: "I wish I had a helmet." Rabbit gets the helmet and the bear looks at him funny.

The bear wishes: "I wish all the bears in the country to be females." The wish was granted.

The rabbit says, "I wish I had a motorcycle." By this point the bear thinks the rabbit is the stupidest thing he's ever seen. The rabbit could wish for money and have all the motorcycles in the world.

The bear says: "I wish all the bears in the world to be female." The wish is granted.

When it's the rabbit's turn to wish, he puts on his helmet, gets on his motorcycle, and says: "I wish that bear to be gay."

 c'mon.. admit it, you laughed.....

Because Someone Asked

"Why did you name you blog that?"

"There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved."

- Charles Darwin (Origin of Species)

 

 

Only One Thing Was Missing

Last Saturday my Mother (Margo) got married (!!!). It was an amazing and beautiful day. Her new husband is one of the sweetest, funniest, kindest men I have ever met & I loved him the moment I met him. So, needless to say, this was one hell of a happy occasion for all involved. My Mother is awesome and deserves someone great, so when the two of them announced late this past spring that they were getting married I was overjoyed.

 I remember going online to Anthropologie (I can not even begin to tell you how much I love that store, I think 99% of my clothes are from there) that night to look at dresses to wear to the wedding... finding one that I loved, then getting the big sucker punch of reality when I saw the price. I waited till it went on sale... and when it did, it was only available in a size 4. I don't think my feet have ever even been a size 4... and at 5'11, I won't ever be either- that'd be gross. Months later I managed to find it on ebay (& win it for like $5.00) as well as shoes to match(!!)... the whole outfit, including shipping cost me under $20, so that was awesome.

Granted the person selling the shoes scared me by telling me he had posted the wrong size, yet had a different color in my size (11)... but I took the size 10's 'cause I needed & wanted them to be ORANGE.... and hoped for the best. (And after a week of wandering around the house in them, up and down the stairs to do the laundry in them, and cleaning the kitchen in them... the suckers fit.)

I love orange, I love wearing orange.. and I have no idea why I had it in my head that whatever I wore to my Mother's wedding HAD to be predominantly orange... but I did.
(my little, yes LITTLE, brother & our Mother)

Oddly enough, when I finally asked my younger brother what he planned to wear, he told me all he had picked out so far was his tie... which was.... wait for it.... wait for it.... ORANGE! My reply to that? "FINALLY! Proof we are siblings after all!" (Ok, there are other things... like the fact that he & I are both waaay taller than average, and can, individually, do some of the best spot-on impressions of our father... & Pres. George Bush Sr. ... cause we secretly think they might be the same person)

So, the day finally arrived... Saturday October 2nd 2010. It had been crappy out for the previous 24 hours, and everyone was worried that the ceremony would have to be moved to an indoor location. I, however, had been adamant that "at noon [that day] it would be 65˚ and sunny" because Mother Nature (the bitch that she is) owed me BIG TIME for this past winter and spring. Well, she came through. It was PERFECT out! (65˚ and sunny to be exact!) Not too hot, not too cold, bright sunny skies... everything was going as planned. All signs pointed to the ceremony starting on time!

All I had to do was swing by my best friend's (Wendy Mae) work and pick her up, then drive back to her place (which is conveniently located on my Mother's property where the reception was going to be), let her run inside & change, and grab her two boys... then we would drive to the ceremony site for family pics before the wedding.

When I pulled into the driveway I noticed that there were a ton of people out on the wrap around deck at my Mother's... and knowing my Mother like I do, I started to worry that it was stressing her out.

You know how some house guests are, right? They are trying to be good, and overly polite...asking your permission for everything, no matter what you may be doing at that moment... even if you are the bride, it's your wedding day, and you are in your bathroom trying to get ready to get married (stuff like: "Do you mind if I use a glass to get some water?"... "is it okay if I turn on the tap to get some water?"..."do you need anything?"... "can I help?"....") I know people mean well, but sometimes, especially in situations like that, it really puts people over the edge. Plus, because she's my Mother and I know her better than anyone else in the house that day... and I know I have a tendency to want to react to things the way she does sometimes... she was probably about to go bananas.

So I walk into my Mother's house, ask where she is... and head into her room. She's in the bathroom getting ready... and what do I do?

"Mama? You need anything?"

"Yes, to be left alone."

"Ok, just checking... now open the damn bathroom door so I can give you a quick hug."

*sigh* "I can't.. just.. I'm just trying to get ready..."

"Ok, I understand.... now just open the damn bathroom door or I'll slam up against it and start making out with it...loudly"

*door opens, my Mother smiles, I hug her, she hugs me back...*

"Could you help me zip my dress?" she asks.... and I get all misty eyed on the inside as I do it. My lil' brother was the one who was walking her down the aisle... so zipping up her dress, and seeing that she was wearing the small pale blue aquamarine earrings I bought her the day before in a panic of "but you don't have "something blue" you have to!" was a nice little moment for me.

I went to go leave the room, but asked once more if there was anything she needed done... & then we picked out her shawl. I took the thicker one out to her sweetie and asked him to put it in the car in case it was chilly/windy at the lighthouse where the ceremony was... and then the phone rang....

I picked it up w/out looking at the caller ID... and heard my brother's voice. He was sick, VERY sick. He was scared he might not make it to the ceremony. My mother was all of 5' away from me as he was talking into my ear... so I just sat there with a smile on my face, and used the calmest, most soothing voice I had to say "That's ok, don't worry about anything. It will all be fine. Everything is covered" etc.... Then I had to calmly & gently tell my Mother that her son was ill and might not be able to make it to the lighthouse in time for the picture taking, but that he'd be there for the ceremony. (I was convinced he would be, so I wasn't lying...)

I must have sounded really convincing, 'cause she was just like "oh, poor thing, his stomach was bothering him so much last night, I hope he's okay." (Typical of my Mother... there's a chance your son might not show up to your wedding to walk you down the aisle, and the ONLY thing that is on your mind is that he isn't feeling well?! God I love my Mother! )

I leave, go grab Wendy Mae & her boys, and off we go to the lighthouse in East Chop where the ceremony was taking place.

The photographer was supposed to be there early, along with the wedding party, for some photos of the site, the bride & groom, family photos... stuff there wouldn't be time for afterwards since there was another wedding happening like an hour after my Mother's. (Can I just tell you once again how awesome and sweet my Mother is?! She found out there was someone else getting married an hour later at the East Chop Lighthouse, so she contacted the bride so the two of them could make arrangements regarding the chair rentals. (We set 'um up, they take 'um back) and she brought, on her own wedding day, a sweet gift all wrapped up beautifully...for the OTHER bride. Seriously, how sweet is that?!)

Upon arrival it was apparent that the photographer was not there. I started to get really mad (on the inside only), I tried calling- no answer. I wandered around the grounds hoping I'd missed him and he's actually there... and then I saw my Mother & Wayne arrive with the rest of Wayne's family. (Did I mention that my mother's new husband is named Wayne? Well, he is.) I do EVERYTHING I can to distract from the fact that the photographer isn't there... and avoid all questions about the location of my younger brother (who did show up with 15 min to spare!!) I individually, and rather secretly, went up to every single guest I saw with a camera and politely said "we aren't sure what is going on, and we hope nothing bad has happened, but for some reason the photographer isn't here yet, so... if you were planning to take some pictures... please don't hesitate to get right up in there. We'd all really appreciate your help." (just a side note here- on the off chance you want some KICK ASS pictures of your own wedding, or someone elses... go on and hire a photographer, but ask them to dress like a guest or something and not make their profession known... and convince all the guests that they are now the wedding photographers 'cause the hired one never showed.) I have never seen a group of people take so many incredible wedding pictures before. Everyone wanted to help out.. and they did. The ceremony started exactly on time.. and the photographer DID show up in time for the vows... his car had broken down, but he showed up, camera in hand, and car grime on his clothes... poor guy, that had to suck.. but he showed up.

Everything went perfectly, the ceremony ended... My Mother & Wayne were now husband & wife.......

(Wendy Mae's 12 yr old son took this awesome picture with his phone, that kid rules!)

Wendy Mae, her boys, & I left for the reception in my car and stopped off at "Our Market" in Oak Bluffs for drinks... 'cause I was so beyond dehydrated I thought I was turning into a raisin. Mind you, not THAT kind of drink silly! I wanted some Vitamin Water or lemonade... and of course we all stood in front of the large glass refrigerators discussing the finer points of Orangina, but came the collective conclusion that while it is indeed yummy, it was the shape of the bottle we liked the most...

At the reception the photographer, who happens to be a friend of mine, pulled me aside and told me about the car troubles... and then we all sorta noticed that he had somehow miraculously managed to rush home after the ceremony, get showered and changed. Impressive, no?

Guests arrived, there was no "assigned" seating... with the exception of the one head table meant to be for the Bride & Groom ... and their family. Which meant my Mother & Wayne; Wayne's kids, their spouses & kids; plus me and my brother. No one was officially sitting down yet so I stopped to talk to family friends and do my part (as well as have a good time) by trying to talk to everyone. As the food came out.... people started sitting down at tables...I looked over at the table where I was expected to sit (& where I was planning to, and wanted to sit... you know since IT WAS MY MOTHER'S WEDDING) and this little bitch, who shall remain nameless... because "little bitch" seems to suit her better than any other name she'd go by (& because she's a friend of my brother's, which drives me batshit crazy because I do not personally know one single person that truly likes or trusts her)... yeah LB decides to park her ass at the head table to sit next to my brother. I'm sure my brother wasn't even paying attention to the fact that that table was supposed to be for family only (& this one time I'll let that part slide, he was violently ill all morning after all).. but  did LB even think for a second that that was probably not the place to sit? Did she choose to not notice when I walked over and one of Wayne's family members said "aren't you sitting at the family table?" and I just politely smiled and said "doesn't seem to be room" and then went to go sit with other friends.

When the time came for toasts/speeches... I gave mine. I read them something I had written the day before that started out as just a letter to the two of them... but read it aloud under that big tent.... as I stood by my Mother at the family's table ... and refused to let my eyes wander down to the other end of the table where LB was sitting.
I heard people laugh at parts, which was nice... especially when they laughed at something I MEANT to be be funny, as opposed to just laughing AT me, but at the end when I looked around... people were freakin' crying. What?! Damn, I made people cry... is it irony that I didn't intend to, but felt kinda good about that too?

(pretty sure you can click on that & it will enlarge it if you're inclined to read it)

The rest of the day went swimmingly. I even got a text message from my ex-fiance (who is a great guy) to wish my Mother all the happiness in the world... the funny part was that he sent it from his younger brother's wedding which was happening at the exact same time as my Mother's, only in New Orleans. I was invited to that, but had to choose which to go to, ... sorta obvious which one I'd be at, right?

The "Fauxtobooth" (get it? fake/faux photobooth) we had set up in the outdoor shower was a hit. ( I kinda knew it would be, I don't associate with people lacking a silly side) It loosened everyone up and many more laughs were had throughout the reception as random people would stroll by with a big clown nose on, or a feather boa. (There are STILL random feathers floating around my Mother's property from that... let's just say they weren't the highest quality ;p )

 (Yes, that is my mother on my lap... with Wendy Mae & Leandra lookin' extra stunning behind us)

The food was delicious, but I knew it would be since my friend Danielle was doing it. She owns The Scottish Bake House and is just plain out of this world fantastic.

...... and did I mention that the wedding cake (which was a most excellent gift from my mother's best friend Anne who got it from Cakes By Liz) totally matched my dress? How cool was that? It's almost like we planned it... but we didn't... plus it had strawberries in there! I could have died it was so good!

All the family has gone home now, Wayne's two kids & their spouses, & THEIR kids are all back home... even my Mother & Wayne have left the island to travel back to where Wayne's house is (I kinda love that they are keeping both their houses so they don't have to stay in one place... clever if you ask me, and can afford it)... and all the cake is gone, the booze has been finished, the tent is down, the decorations have been given or thrown away, my orange shoes are now at the back of my closet, the dress hung for the winter, and all that remains is what can't be bought...... I woke up on Saturday October 2nd 2010 with 3 parents (my Father is remarried), one brother and one sister (Wendy Mae isn't blood related, but she is family, plain & simple)...... when I went to bed that night I had 4 parents, 3 sisters, 3 brothers, and 3 nieces.... and as I drifted off to sleep I became more grateful than ever before that I had convinced my family years earlier to stop celebrating Christmas with gifts, and just relax to a good meal, good drinks, and lots of laughter.

What was missing?...... "My Jerk" ♥ sent my Mother a very sweet message that afternoon which made her smile... and then made my heart ache more that he wasn't there.

My Happy Place ~ Pt 1

I have decided that I am going to have a series of posts, at random ('cause that's how I roll) of my "happy places"... you know, things, people, and places (& okay some specific foods/drinks too) that just seem to make everything better. It won't be in any specific order since some things make me happy in different ways on different days... but if they make it onto this "list", this series of blog posts, well... they are AT LEAST three different kinds of awesome.

(1)

On a chilly afternoon after wandering around London we sat down on a wall along the Thames, just outside of Shakespeare's Globe, and I had said we should ask someone walking by to take our picture. He just took the camera out of my hands and started snapping away... these are some of those pictures ... the rest will remain just for the two of us.

I ♥ that Jerk of mine. XXX

(2)

Maynards Wine Gums... holy crap this is some yummy candy. I've been more than a little in love with them for about 10 years now. (Late Bloomer I guess, they've been around forever)

I love all their chewy, juicy, sweet yumminess......

(3)

 "The Parent Trap"

(The 1961 version starring Maureen O'Hara, Brian Keith, and Hayley Mills.)

I can honestly say that I have seen this movie over 100 times. Those who know me best, especially people that have lived with me, know that if they come home and I am watching The Parent Trap... they should just keep walking and not even bother talking to me, I'm in no mood. Once the movie is over though... I'm totally cheered up. For real. That movie has the strangest (but best) effect on me ... and Maureen O'Hara's dresses in this movie are to fucking die for!

(4)

CASHMERE! 

I basically live for those chilly days & nights when the option, and opportunity, to wrap myself in cashmere presents itself.
I can not tell you how many times I've wished I loved crappy polyester, or just plan wool (don't get me wrong, I love a good wool sweater too...)... but cashmere makes me feel like I am wearing a freakin' hug from an ethereal being.

****************************************************

Ok, that's it.. for now....stay tuned for the next random post........

I Think I Need To Move

 

I'm totally moving here..... and I am going to start writing REAL letters... so everyone can enjoy my return address... and when they write back, they can enjoy writing the address and laughing. 

Seriously, this might be the best Wikipedia entry EVER. 

Basically anything that brings out my inner 8 year old is awesome. Hell, I still crack up when someone types 8008 into a calculator ('cause it looks like the word BOOB)......

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fucking,_Austria


Quote from the page that just about had me spittin' my morning tea: "In November 2008 the village hosted the Festival of the Fuck Bands music festival, which featured bands Fucked Up, Holy Fuck, Fuck and Fuck Buttons."
(Fuck Buttons?...... BEST. BAND. NAME. EVER!!! )

Where Are You From?

For ages now I have tried to explain to many (but not all) friends that there are very distinct differences in accents. Apparently most people can't tell the difference between an Irish accent and a Scottish accent UNLESS they are from there (or a nearby area). I've tried to explain that even within those regions the accents vary.

Using the simple fact that most people in America can tell the difference between a Boston "Southy" accent, and a southern accent. Or how one can usually tell if a person hails from the Jersey Shore vs. Chicago.... but most Americans don't understand (or even believe) that in Scotland alone the accents have AT LEAST 10 easily recognizable different dialects.

Sometimes it's as simple as little words, and inflections; other times I hear someone speak and I am instantly able to tell they came from the north eastern highlands of Scotland. It's not a hidden talent or anything. I lived there once, and my ears pick up on it more than someone that has rarely (or never) heard that dialect.

The thing that gets me is when someone thinks an Irish person is Australian, or that a British person is a Kiwi; or even when a Scottish person is thought to be Irish.

I'm not being snobby about this, I'm no dialect expert by any stretch of the imagination... I just grew up around, and hung out with, people from many places. I screw it up sometimes too and have thought something like someone from Australia is from New Zealand. It's a common mistake here in America.

That all said, I have friends in the UK that absolutely do NOT recognize the difference in dialect when a friend from New Orleans and I are having a conversation with them. They don't hear the southern accent, they usually, if anything, say the person has a smooth & easy voice.

My boyfriend lives in London (born and raised there) and while I joke about him being the poshest cockney ('cause it's actually true), his voice, depending on who he is talking to or what he is talking about, switches in dialect. Personally I find it adorable when that happens. He probably thinks I'm bananas when I tell him his accent is sexiest when he's really pissed off... but it is. Problem for me is that, with the exception of certain words that are pronounced VERY differently in the UK than in America (like how "oregano" is pronounced "or-egg-ah-no" in America, it's "or-eh-gah-no" in the UK... oh, or "aluminum"... in the UK they add an extra vowel and it's "aluminium")... I don't necessarily notice his accent any longer. It's not what made me fall in love with him... but don't get me wrong, it is indeed sexy.

Anyway, I didn't start this blog post to discuss my boyfriend's sexy voice and the things he says (totally saving that up for this winter when I'll have massive amounts of material :) )... I wanted to post this video of a kid in England that at his young age has somehow become a dialect savant. Don't let the length of the video disuade you from watching, it's truly impressive. I was even blown away by his "American".... mostly because, in my experience, most English/Scottish/Irish people tend to go all nasal when they try an American accent. This kid doesn't, check him out... it's more than a little impressive... AND it might just teach you some of the differences. Rarely does one have a bunch of examples all at once, I think this lil' video might actually help you hear the differences... plus his choice of presentation is pretty funny....

See You When I See You

I told my friend Mike (owner of the Suie in Kincraig Scotland) that Virgin was my favorite airline. His reply? "I'd never name my company "virgin"... too afraid everyone was always trying to fuck me."

I'm flying tomorrow, on Virgin... heading to the UK for a few weeks to see the jerk that has totally put some wacked out voodoo spell on me and turned my brain to pudding in his presence. Sure he's funny, smart, totally cute, and sweet as can be... but he's stilll a jerk for sneakin' in behind the walls I was rebuilding and capturing my heart like he's Mario or Luigi & my heart is the Princess. (Though, come to think of it, he and his best friend might have just earned themselves some new nicknames right there......)

(yes, this is me & The Jerk)

Anyway, I'm flying tomorrow... I hate the day before travel. I hate everything about the day before travel. My mind races, I can't get anything done, I pack & repack like 1000x, I freak out a bit wondering what I might be forgetting, I try to tie up loose ends like I'm dying, and I end up having a severe anxiety attack. It sucks. I blame living on this island for that. If one leaves the house and boards the ferry or a plane to the mainland & you've forgotten something, you're royally fucked.

I remember one year my friend Adam was headed to Costa Rica for the winter, and when he arrived at the airport realized he had forgotten his passport. Know what he did? Called a friend that was a cab driver, had them go to his place, find the passport, bring it to the ferry boat, give it to one of the crew members, then upon docking again on the mainland pass it off to the bus driver headed to the airport, then the bus driver showed up at the terminal where Adam was waiting outside on the sidewalk for the pass off... and made it onto his flight with just a few minutes to spare. I just don't know that I could handle that kind of thing, I'd probably have a nervous breakdown. Honestly though, it'd be a hell of a story to tell years later.

I'm doing everything I can to make sure I forget nothing, or at least nothing of importance. My thinking being that I can buy it when I get to my destination, or at least something comparable. Of course "The Jerk" has informed me that other than my passport and ticket I need no clothes since he intends to keep me in bed for the duration of my stay... so maybe I should just pack like 13 different kinds of pajamas? 

At least I know the trip, once I'm on the plane, will be a pleasant one. I "checked in" (like to choose my seat & meal type check in) on line ('cause I'm nerdy enough to do that kind of thing) ... and then saw the link for "in flight entertainment" and decided to see what movies I might get to see. It's been a while since I last flew overseas (about 5 years) but I remember the movie selection was pretty good. Who knew it'd be THIS good?!

 

  

 

  

  

  

  

..... and here I thought I would just sleep! No way! This is like a menu of guilty pleasure visual comfort food out the wazooo! Had they thrown in a Hillary Duff film I could watch with out anyone but the person sitting next to me knowing...I'd be in guilty pleasure heaven! (Oh don't roll your eyes, you've watched her movies too... pthfft!)

Oh... AND... Virgin gives you these great lil' gift bags (I always snag extras and give 'um to friends when I get home)......

The best part is the socks... slather lotion all over your feet... or even your hands unless you are totally fidgety like me and would go crazy with thumbless mittens on your hands, and put the socks on.. when you get to your destination, take 'um off, throw 'um away and your feet will feel like you've had a pedicure... all baby soft.

My other tip? Fly w/out make up on. NONE. Just wear big sunglasses if you are freaked out by this idea. Seriously, you may look cute upon boarding, but after 7 hours on a plane, in that nasty germ filled dry air, you'll look like a raisin doing a Tammy Faye Baker impression.

Snag a bunch of free samples from your local Dept store (or any store that has 'um), you know, the sample packets that don't really count as "liquids"... you can slip 'um in your lil' baggie that you put all those 3 oz containers in, or, hell, slide 'um in a book, they lay flat. Every hour, moisturize. Trust me on this one, you'll thank me upon arrival. See, now that people aren't allowed to meet you at the gate, you have those few minutes between leaving the plane & getting to baggage claim to run into the bathroom at the terminal and fix yourself up. Take a look around at the women that didn't fly free of make up as they stand in front of the mirror, in that horrible lighting, fighting back tears. You'll see. 

Oh, and drink LOADS of water. Geeze, you know all this already, right? If you don't, you should. ... and even though I said I was gonna stay awake and watch crappy movies... I'll sleep..... 'cause I don't think I'll be getting much while visiting My Jerk ;p... but that's more than a lil' ok too. 

I'm not taking my computer, so .... stay tuned for updates on this latest adventure when I get back.

Also... to all of you friends of mine (and even the lurkers that don't know me), just create a free account and comment once in a while.... I like hearing what you have to say.  If I didn't why wouldn't I just write this all in a personal diary, yeah?

See you when I see you~ ♥

Still.....Woah

Months later and I am STILL kinda hooked on this kid... he totally blows my mind, AND makes me like Lady Gaga... what?!
Yes, I said it, I like Lady Gaga, her tunes are freakin' catchy... but this kid... woah.