Saturday, September 27, 2008


I was blow drying my hair this morning and I saw something that was a bit startling! I was trying to do all of the fancy blow dryer moves I've been taught, yes, I suck at them, but I still make an attempt, when I saw SOMETHING in my hair. I am pretty blind and the mirror is pretty far away but it looked like, like dandruff! Not pretty, since I tend to favor black shirts and I was wearing one at this time, so really not pretty. I stop blow drying and get up on the sink to get a closer look. Yes, I am 6 months pregnant with a ginormous stomach but this was something that required a much, much closer look. I start moving the brush around and yup, I see something. It isn't really white, more like silver. I am not to used to seeing dandruff, but silver dandruff? I need an even closer look. I get down off the cabinet and begin to hunt for my 100X magnifying mirror. I haven't used it in a long time because it literally shows everything, including my clogged pores and hair that has moved from my head to around my lip area. It is ghastly, to say the least. I plug it in a prepare myself to see this silver dandruff. I lift my hair around and try checking for the sparkling confetti that apparently is littering my head. I see it. It isn't dandruff, something that I believe is curable with some Head and Shoulders or a mohawk. It is much, much worse. There is a healthy crop of silver hair shining in all its glory at me. Hmmm... Guess that it is time to hit the bottle, a Clairol bottle.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Up all night

Last night was a really bad night. I didn't sleep because I had to pee about a hundred times, couldn't breathe and had a sore throat. Mia started to cough, so I got her a drink of water. Of course, I can't ever get back to sleep, so I started to think about useless things that would essentially waste my sleepy time.

Have you ever thought about an old TV show and who its characters were? I remember one time, pre-Internet, that a roommate and I stayed up half the night trying to think of who the nerdy girl was on "Head of the Class." We could name every person by character name and most by real name but could not remember her character name. We stayed up til past midnight and discussed other shows we used to watch. We gave up, after wasting precious ZZZ time, and went to bed. About an hour later, as I was drifting off, my roommate opened my door and said only, "Janice." I knew what she meant and promptly drifted off.

Last night, I got up thinking about "Eight is Enough." Why? That is the big question. I was thinking about how many kids of each sex there were. Was it like the Brady Bunch, 4 and 4? Well, I could only account for 3 boys, including that nasty Willie Aames, and 4 girls. I could have easily gotten up to check one of many Internet sites, but I didn't because I figured I would have to go to the bathroom. So, instead I agonized over who the fourth boy was. I could remember that the oldest girl, died of a drug overdose. That didn't really help me though. So, I just laid there.

Then, I got to thinking about the vile Willie Aames. Something about his mop of creepy curls got me going. I was thinking of that show that he was on with Chachi. Seemed like it was on for a long time but because of old Willie Aames, I couldn't bring myself to watch it. And what about Scott Baio? What is his problem? That was a hottie back in the day. He is kind of hot in that 40's way now. I know that for some odd reason, that he and Joanie hooked up in real life. Now, there is someone with a mop of weird curls too. Maybe I have some kind of curly bias. I don't think I do, but those two really creep me out from a hairstyle type way. I guess that VH1 eventually helped him find love. I don't know because I never watched that either. Maybe they have moved on to that guy from Poison.

Here is someone else that I saw the other day, Biz Markie. He apparently is now appealing to the younger set by spitting and sputtering around on "Yo Gabba Gabba." Man, what was that song he sang about a 100 years ago? I thought about that for awhile but moved on, figuring that "Yo Gabba Gabba" is a lot more interesting to try and analyze. I majored in psychology in college and I still can't figure that mess out. There is the pink girl, who looks like garlic, the yellow robot, the green, fuzzy thing and then that odd red deal. You can't miss him, he is of the phallic orientation with studs. Hmmm, somehow Freudian, and studded for her pleasure. I forgot that blue one. And, what about this DJ Lance? Oh, my.

In the end, I was up about 4 hours, yet never got out of my bed to check any of my missing info on "Eight is Enough." The next morning, I did check and there were only 3 boys on the show. I had missed a girl. She had frizzy, curly hair. How could I forget?

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Shoe blog

If you know me, you know I love shoes! My feet don't grow, at least not much, so I can buy a lot of shoes and not have to worry. I am particularly fond of the Shoeshine blog. A friend from the mommy board I read faithfully, filled us in about this blog. The featured shoes are always amazing! One of the high points, is that nearly all of these shoes are what I call cost effective, or you can buy a bunch because they are on sale! You have to love that!

I recently bought a NWT(new with tag, for you non-shoppers)pair of Merrell tennies from They are an army green suede. Merrell's are expensive so I was pleased to find them for such a good deal. I won the auction and am excited to get them.

My mom is also a shoe junkie. We used to wear the same size, but sadly, we don't anymore. I grew, what a shock. We love Born shoes but can't switch anymore. Bummer.

No one wants to trade shoes with me and that makes me sad. I am hoping that one of my daughters will have the same size feet as me and will have excellent taste in shoes. I also hope I'm still cool enough to share with them. I can just hear them, "Mom, get out of my closet. You can't borrow my shoes!" I will then get my walker and hobble off to my room to sulk.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Share the blog wealth

I have been cruising lots of blogs, looking for some to pick up, so to speak. There are so many talented, crazy, caring, creative mom's out there, that you can't help but want to link to their blogs and have a gander. I have added a couple that I had a look at, that were fun. How can you not get a laugh at a mom that has lip balm, scrapbooking, photo, sewing and jewelry supplies hanging around her house? Of course, you aren't really laughing because you have the same crap somewhere in your house and if you had the time to find it and sort it, you would. Maybe, anyway.

So, please have a look and leave a comment, that is what us bloggers like. Share the wealth and add them to your blog read list. It will be appreciated.

Monday, September 8, 2008

The village called. They are demanding their idiots back NOW!

We packed alot of fun into our 2 1/2 days in Las Vegas. There were alot of highs and alot of lows. The heat, the constant need for water, the constant need to pee, and the heat all played into how we spent our days. I don't regret going, even though it was probably not the smartest move on my part. I will always remember our "babymoon."

We had to get up too early in order to make our flight. McDonald's and Starbucks were in the hotel food court, so we grabbed our food and then grabbed a cab to the airport. It was already hot, not that we were shocked by that. I knew that I would need a snack and water bottle for the flight, unless I wanted to pay an exorbitant fee on board. I was through the security checkpoint, when I was told that if I didn't drink my water, it would be confiscated. I couldn't down that much water, lest I need to pee 20 times on the flight. Whatever. I later heard they let a guy bring a coconut on board. Nice.

In the back of my mind, I was wondering about Clay Center's finest from our original flight. I had already seen several of the other Kansas people in the terminal and figured that it would probably be sooner rather than later, that we would be reacquainted with the Fab 4. I was on my way to the bathroom, and I heard him, the guy that sat in front of me that acted as though he had never been on a plane before. I ducked in before he saw me. He had a t-shirt indicating that he had played in a poker tournament in downtown Vegas. I had to wonder if prostitutes had been involved along with all of the free drinking I'm sure they did. I wanted to hurl just from the thought. Not suprisingly, he went right for the airport slots. I have always heard that you never play the slots there, as there is little return. I supposed it would have been polite of me to inform him, but decided against it. I wasn't feeling very charitable that morning, it was too early.

We were called to board and sat in the next to last row. We heard the guys get on, heck, everyone did. We were spared the details of the trip since they sat in the front. I hope they had good luck.

I fell asleep shortly into the flight, when it was announced over the intercom that there was a passenger with a medical emergency and were there any medical types on board. I worked for a couple of 911's and a prison and knew how to administer CPR, deliver babies and a host of other things. Hubby refrained me, saying he knew CPR and wasn't jumping out of his seat. Apparently, a female passenger had passed out due to anxiety about flying. The flight attendant put back the paddles, thank goodness, and assured us rear passengers that the woman was ok. No baby delivering today, darn it.

All in all, it was a great trip. I am hoping that when the girls are grown, hubby and I can go on another weekend trip. I am figuring we will be about 50. Then, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. (Horrible cliche, I know! LOL!)

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Bags, Bags and More Bags

I like purses. Call them what you like, bags, purses, handbags, whatever, I love them. I know that I am hardly alone in this intense love of that thing that carries all my crap on a day to day basis. I don't get too crazy. I rarely change my bag to match my outfit, there is too much stuff to move, too much loose change, too many lipsticks floating around in the bottom. I just stick to what I like and change when I get bored.

My purse of choice is Coach. I first encountered the Coach brand in 1992. I was working at Spiegel, the catalog place. In our customer service training, we looked at real orders and pretended to fix them, answer questions etc. One of the items listed on this order was a "Coach Station bag." No one knew what it was. I quickly found a catalog and determined that it was a nice leather purse. I looked at the others and decided that I had to have a Coach Station bag. It was admittedly pricey, over $100. I had never owned a purse that cost more than $20. I never thought about it, I guess. Now, I had a 40% discount and was more than eager to use it!

A few days later, I got a notice that something was waiting in the mailroom for me. I tore into the box like it was Christmas morning! Wrapped in Coach imprinted paper was my navy Coach Station bag. I loved it and put all of my stuff into it immediately, no matter that I was supposed to be working. Work could wait, this was the bag of a lifetime and nothing could keep me from it. I felt the nice leather and played around with the brass hardware. I was in purse love.

Several Coach bags followed this initial purchase. Some with the discount, and when I moved on, I paid full price. I can't count how many I have had and fear that the knowledge would shock me. I have my favorites. My Ali was a thrill that nearly made me pass out. My husband and I took a weekend jaunt to Chicago, one February. I wanted to see this bag. It was beautiful, heavy leather the color of a baseball glove with sturdy brass hardware. We looked like crap, it was cold, we were windblown and red nosed. Hubby was fighting off SARS or some other snotty disease. I approached the salesman and asked if he had an Ali. He looked me up and down and said they had been removed and were only at the flagship store, 3 blocks away. We left, I felt scorned by the hoard of gay salesman. We grabbed a cab and went to the flagship store. I was impressed. There were saleswomen all over and it was a 2 story store! We were approached and I asked if there was an Ali to be seen. I was shown the shelf and there she was! Amazing. My desperately ill husband said to me, "Why don't you get it? I know you have had your eye on it for awhile." I nearly lost conciousness. Before he could come to his senses, it was wrapped and we were in line to pay. Grabbing the bag, I ran out before he could change his mind. I held that bag like it was full of gold. Upon return to our hotel room, I dumped everything out of my other purse, a Kate Landry, and stuffed everything into my new bag. I don't know what caused my husband to give into my Ali whim. I am thinking it might have been too many coffee's from Starbucks. The caffeine somehow muddied his thought process.

Not too long ago, I read a book about purses, Hermes specifically. It was called Bringing Home the Birkin, by Michael Tonello. It was a thoroughly entertaining read. Mr. Tonello chases the Hermes Birkin bag, a purse that costs more than most cars, at least cars that the average person can afford. He has a very successful career eBaying Hermes merchandise, spending over a $1,000,000 to supply his clientele. His trials and tribulations are detailed in this humourous book, all encased in a croc look cover. Wanna read it? I have a copy to give, granted, I read it first, but I don't have Hermes or Coach sponsoring my site, or sending me anything free, so a second hand copy will have to do. If you are interested, leave a comment or picture detailing your favorite bag and what it cost. It doesn't have to be a Coach or even a designer bag, just one that you love. Tell me why you love it, where it was purchased and for how much. I have a purse from Goodwill that I love(almost) as much as my Coach collection, so anything goes. Leave your comments and I will select a comment on September 15th. I can't wait to read the comments! Please leave your name and email address.

Saturday, September 6, 2008

The damn, dam tour.

Hubby and I thought it best to rent a car to drive ourselves to Hoover Dam. In reality, the dam isn't that far from Vegas and would afford us more time on the tour and in the visitors center. There are lots of interesting things to see, and I missed quite a bit last time I went, due to an unforeseen event, so I wanted to see it all.

We got out of Vegas, somehow, and found the highway that would lead us to the dam. We pulled out the GPS because we missed the turn. The GPS was not functioning and kept giving the message that no satellite could be found. Hello? We were still in town, not in the middle of nowhere, so why wouldn't the darn thing work? A call to computer guru brother in law, would solve the problem, we hoped. Nope, he wasn't sure why the darn thing wasn't finding the satellite either. We had a nice chat with him anyway.

It is a nice drive to the dam, if you like looking at nothing. It is just a bunch of rocks, maybe like a really hot moon. Nearing the dam, we could see the new, scary bridge across the river. I won't go on it but it is supposed to alleviate the congestion that the bridge road has. It looks like something that would fall down in a strong wind, though I'm sure it is a bit more safe than that. I still won't ever go on it.

We pay the parking lady $7 and park the rental car. It is hot and we are sweating before we get into the sun. I, of course, have to pee. There is, of course, a line a mile long in the ladies room. There are no bathrooms in the dam so you are out of luck. Have I mentioned that it is scorching hot???

The extended tour was leaving soon, so we paid and got our tickets. Only, it wasn't a ticket, it was a yellow plastic hardhat. Not even a real one, a Bob the Builder type, flimsy. I laughed at the people that actually wore them, I, at least at the forethought to ask if it was mandatory.

The tour begins and I already have to pee. The dam guide stuffs a million of us in the elevator and off we go. People are manhandling my pg tummy and I didn't like it. I could barely breathe. We are led around like a group of preschoolers, examining nooks and crannies that should have been left to rodents or at least something smaller than the average human. I had to duck in places and I am not a shining example of height.

The guide points out all of the fine Art Deco details. I must ask, why does the, damn dam have to have terazzo floors? It is all very nice but I still have to pee and believe that there are more elevator rides to endure. In one place, we walked down a narrow, rounded tunnel to an open set of louvers. I wouldn't have minded having a gander, but there was this grate covered hole that you had to cross. I looked down it and could not see any trace of a bottom. Sorry, unless you want to back everyone up so I can take a running jump over it, not happening for me. I hung back, sweating and needing to pee.

Don't know if I mentioned that it was hot! My back was sweating and I am horrified to mention this fact.

Finally, we were all wedged in the damn dam's elevators and deposited in the middle of the dam, on the road. It was hot! I took a quick look and sat down. Yep, right down on the sidewalk in the blazing sun. The guide pronounced the tour over and I bolted for the nearest building with a bathroom and AC. Turns out it was the original visitor center. It was cool and that is really all I was looking for. Once my sweaty husband caught up with me, it was time for the show to begin. All 4 of us that showed up, sat in chairs that hadn't been replaced in 50 years. They were hard and we had no room to stretch our legs. This was a place that was built when the average American must have been barely 5' tall.

A huge, and ancient, topographic map lit up and told us the story of every damn, dam for several hundred miles. It was nice to get some air but the story wasn't that interesting. Maybe the new visitor center would be more interesting.

I have to waddle across the street and traffic to get to the new place. It is pretty neat and has a bonus elevator to get to the top. You could see the scary new bridge and straight down the dam. It was neat but hot so I went back in and sat on a bench that was conveniently placed on a vent! Bonus! Pretty soon, there was the sound of a siren. I have to believe it was an ambulance sent to help a pregnant woman that was dehydrated and needed to pee.