y has a friend who always refers to herself in the third person.
y does not understand this, and y would like to know why people refer to themselves in that manner.
y thinks it makes more sense to refer to oneself as “Me, Myself, or I.”
y is just sayin…

The fire has now moved closer to where I live. I am still not in any danger because we’re far enough south of the hills, but I have so many friends that are preparing to evacuate. I drove up to the park where I walk everymorning. It’s such a beautiful area up there, with amazing, expensive homes. Now it looks like a war zone, and I’m not exaggerating, Missy!!!! It’s burning all around, people are walking around with masks on so they can breathe. There are people on the roofs of their houses with hoses, wetting everything down. A lot of the homeowners in that area own horses. It’s truly unbelievable.

In my Junior year in high school, I was in love with a boy named Ruben.
Ruben was one fine mexican.
One day, I decided to curl my beautiful, straight, long hair for school.
I walked into English class and Ruben was there, he looked at me and said…
“Damn… you look fine, girl, if you got a perm, I’d totally date you.”
My parents did not allow me to perm my hair, it was against our religion, as was wearing makeup, going to dances, wearing mini skirts, talking to boys on the phone, participating in after school activities, hanging out with friends that weren’t Christians, etc.
Ruben discriminated against me for having naturally straight hair, thus missing out on the honor of being able to point at my picture in the yearbook and say “I dated her.”

21 hours.
And in my 21 hours of no computer I came to this conclusion.

Continue reading →

I’m going to do a little experiment.
I’m going to shut down my computer and see how long I can go without turning it on.
No checking my email.
No reading blogs.
No checking stats. (yeah, I check em, we ALL do,I’m just one of the few who admits it!)
No posting on my blog.
No IM’s.
No coloring!!
No NOTHING online. NOTHING.
I’m doing this to try to prove my husband wrong. He says I’m an addict, I say I can shut this computer down and never turn it on again. He says I’m full of shit, I say he’s totally and completely right, but I will not admit it outloud and will do anything to prove him wrong “you’ll see.”
Ok, I’m shutting down on October 15th at 1:10 pm. So long for now.
(I don’t think I’ll even last an hour, how long do you think I’ll last?)

Does anyone remember those hairbrushes they used to make that had a little dispenser that you could fill with hairspray or water? One side was a brush, the other was a spray pump? Anyone?

I was talking to one of my childhood friends. We grew up together in the church. We thought we were so cool with those brushes in our pockets.

I used to wear those skirts with the over sized pockets on the side to church and I’d hide I’d sneak my sprush into church because The Lord knows I wasn’t allowed to bring it. During the service, I’d ask for permission to go to the bathroom, but what I really wanted to go use my “SPRUSH”. I’d lock myself in there until half of my bangs were at least 8 inches tall, perfectly spread and the other half were completely straight against my forehead. Ah, yes, my bangs were truly a work of art.

The Sprush was the perfect invention for me, because I no longer had to carry a can of aerosol Rave in my purse, making it easier to sneak my beauty products to church.

It’s no wonder that even though I went to church 4 days a week for 19 years of my life, I still don’t know half of what the bible says– I was too busy getting my Wordly Bangs on in the bathroom.

I love apple crisp and apple pie, but I hate the apples in it. I just eat the crust and the sauce, but I throw away the apples. I love the flavors of apples, but biting into soggy, warm ones disgust me.
I do the same things with onion rings. I just eat the breading, but I can’t bite into the onion, unless it’s reeeeeeally thin and crispy, but biting into a thick, soggy onion just isn’t ok with my mouth.
Tony says this makes me weird.
I told him to shutup and go buy me an apple pie from McDonalds.

PMS.
Respect it.
Educate yourself on it.
Do not belittle it.
Do not mock it. Do not take it lightly.
Do NOT ever say “oh, it must be that time of that month.” That’s just ignorant.
Take a look…
The most common physical and emotional symptoms associated with PMS include:
Weight gain from fluid retention
Abdominal bloating
Breast tenderness
Tension or anxiety
Depression
Crying spells
Mood swings and irritability or anger
Appetite changes and food cravings
Joint or muscle pain
Nausea
Vomiting
Headache
Difficulty concentrating
Fatigue
It is not fun. It is not an excuse to be a bitch.
It’s a real medical condition, God damn it.
When the fuck are men going to stop being pricks about it and understand it?
Damn.
I’m thinking of asking all women who suffer from PMS to take a picture of your bloated belly, send it to me and we’ll have a PMS-a-thon and raise money for awareness of the condition. Who’s in?
(and I know that not ALL men are insensitive to it, so don’t bother scolding me about that… there are far more who think it’s a big joke then there are those who really understand it)

The best fatherly advice I have ever heard in my entire life was just spoken in this house.

“Son, there are two things you never want to lose in your life. Your tools and your guns.”

Aren’t you glad I shared?

The word WASH. Let’s talk about it for one minute, shall we?
It is not pronounced W-U-S-H. Nor is it W-O-R-S-H.
You do not wush your hair, you wash it. You do not worsh your clothes, you wash them.