Would you like to hear how I came to be chosen as a guest editor for this fantastic bog?  Oh, all right, I’ll tell ya.  Just be prepared, I only the looonnngggest of stories.  It all started a few months ago when I was searching for a wedding dress.  Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m not engaged or anything…but I had just come from my best-est friend Cameron’s wedding in the lovely St. Thomas, Virgin Islands. 

Cameron and I on her wedding day

 

I was feeling just a tad over-excited regarding my own future nuptuals (whenever those might be) and I was searching for wedding dress ideas.  I came across a photo of a dress that was linked to a blog called Whoorl.  I had never read a blog before and was interested in checking out what all the hype was about.  I am a little tech slow, so the fact that blogs have been increasing in popularity for the last few years means that they are just now hitting my radar.

TR and I in St. Thomas

Basically, I became hooked on blogs.  I spent days and days reading all of the content on Whoorl’s site, then I dove into the links on her site to other blogs, one of which is an additional site of hers called Hair Thursday.  I now consider myself a blog addict.  I read them as often as possible and as a result of my addiction, I was able to participate in a contest for a guest editor position on Hair Thursday.  Then I was chosen as one of several guest editors.  The End.

You are probably wondering what exactly Hair Thursday is.  Well, it’s a blog where people write in and ask for hair advice.  Sarah, the writer of Whoorl and HT gives advice in the form of suggestions and photos of potential options for haircut and color.  As a guest editor I will be writing about celebrity hair looks as well as assisting with hair advice for those who write in.  So, now you know the details of how I got started with Hair Thursday.  Now go read my post and check out what it’s all about!

Now, before I comense with the weirdness, let me do a little explaining as to what you are about to read.  TR and I happen to live in a more, how shall I put this, urban area.  Gross as it may sound, there happens to be a strip club on the main drag not far from our neighborhood.  We frequently pass this fine establishment as we drive home from various activities and perhaps I should be embarrassed about this next statement, but I’m not.  TR and I ALWAYS look over to sneak a peak at the “talent” who are typically out front on a smoke break.  We like to make little comments about the patrons who are milling about and we come up with marketing schemes to help them promote their business as well as catchy little tunes to remind us of all the great things that a local strip joint has to offer. 

Tonight, after coming home from a delicious dinner, we passed Bandaids (yep, that’s the name of our local nudie establishment) and TR mentioned that perhaps the proprietor might consider having an outdoor sneak peak of the ladies via a pole near the street.  I suggested that this could be considered the warm up area to help the girls limber up prior to their upcoming performance.  Immense giggling ensued.

Now, it might be prudent to mention that TR and I are not nudie bar type of people, we just happen to get great enjoyment out of the fact that our downtown lifestyle has certain elements that most people have to go out of their way to find, a dry cleaner across the street, multiple restaurants within walking distance, cute shops, salons, markets and of course strip clubs just minutes away. 

Either way, Bandaids is going to be a place that we think of long after we leave our little nest in the “transitional neighborhood.”

Anywho, I am excited to announce that I am applying for a position on one of my favorite blogs and the application is due this week.  I am competing with like a zillion people who want to also participate, but I am really going to work my ass off to see if I can’t at least be picked as a top contender!  I would tell you where it is…but I don’t need any extra competition!  More on that later!

Updates wise, I wish I had more to discuss.  Other than working and sleeping, I haven’t been up to much.  There is the eternal house search that never seems to end.  We have basically stopped looking since loosing our top choice house due to the stupidity of our realtor.  TR and I are so committed to this one particular house that we have decided to wait until it officially closes escrow before we start seriously looking for something else.  So far, it is taking a very long time to close so we hope that means we get a second chance at it. 

In the mean time we are looking for a new rental property.  Such a pain to move, but this place has become too much for me to tolerate.  I thought it would be so fun to live in a cute little bungalow in a historic district….hmmm, not so much.  Let me just tell you that dust is an ongoing battle in this place.  It was built in the 1920′s and still has the original wood floors.  While they have been refinished, it clearly was not a professional job.  All of the cracks between the boards that should be sealed are, well, not.  So, when we walk around the dust that has settled between the boards comes loose and sort of spreads about.  I mean, I can’t see the dust coming out, but this is my theory.  Also, nothing is sealed properly, the doors, the windows, none of it.  Our bills are crazy expensive because we are basically just heating and cooling the great outdoors!  Fantastic!  So, long story short, we are looking to move.

I know I promised a dog post, but that would require me to go find the camera, get some cute pictures together…blah, blah, blah…how about next time.

I’m off to start my blog entry for the contest and then work for the rest of the night!  Oh joy!

Example #1:  Working out (Ever)

This has been a lifelong cop-out on my part.  I get all jacked up about getting “back in shape” and really ”hitting the gym with a vengance” and I do, for about a week.  I get all geared up about healthy living and eating right and fitness in general.  Now, if you have known me for a while, you might be aware of the fact that I have been generally pretty blessed in the fitness department.  Not to toot my own horn or whatever, but I didn’t grow up as a chunky kid or have to work at my weight in any way.  I was just a normal average kid who could eat whatever and stay the same.  Even puberty didn’t really change that.  I was born with a bubble butt, but hell, who can complain about that?  It wasn’t until the end of college or my foray into Corporate America that I really started having to take a close look at my weight.  Now that I sit at work all day, I have really packed on some unwanted pounds.  Too bad I don’t seem to have much follow through in the whole excercise department…perhaps one day!

Example #2:  Ultimatums (of any kind)

The main ultimatum of my life is unfortunatley geared towards my beloved.  Poor TR, assaulted on a near monthly basis about getting married.  I never wanted to be that way you know….matter of fact, I am not really all that jacked up about wanting to be married.  Being married is so OLD sounding!  No offense to my married friends, but I like having a boyfriend and not a husband.  It feels so carefree and easy to have a boyfriend.  Plus, I think I would rather vomit than use the word fiance!  Gag!  What it boils down to is this: Its a control thing.  I want something (could be anything really) and if TR says no, I gotta have it.  I am the Queen of Fake Ultimatums.  I mean, they aren’t fake when I issue them, but since I pretty much always wuss out on my threats, they really are pointless.  Don’t get me wrong here, I don’t threaten to leave him, I would never do that, not after eight damn years training that trophy!  Gimme a break, I threaten other things, things that are precious to a man…no need to elaborate.  Never the less, I always fail to follow through, so I issue only empty, if not pathetic little threats that at this point TR must see as vaguely ammusing (or irritating, depending on the day).

Example #3:  Financial Bliss (hahahah)

Yes, if money were water I would drink the ocean dry!  I can’t help it (or don’t particularly want to), I burn through money like it’s my job.  I like to buy things for myself, for others, ect.  Perhaps it is a product of growing up on the tight-budgeted side, perhaps it is a genetic marker that I inherited and really have no control over whatsoever (that’s my personal take on the matter).  Who knows?  Now, I would like to clarify that I am not what I would consider a wasteful spender.  I don’t think that I blow a lot of cash on stupid things.  I don’t buy crap just for the sake of buying crap.  I also don’t make a ton of money, so it isn’t that difficult to run through my stash.  However, I have seen how the other half (more actually) of the world lives.  I have lived in the African bush and have seen real and true poverty, the likes of which would make most people weep.  Yet, I still seem to be unable to manage my own paltry funds.  What the hell?  I try and I try, albeit in small spurts.  But seriously, this is an area that I really should be making more of an effort in. 

While there are so many other examples in my life that clearly represent my general lack of personal follow through…these are the glaringly obvious.  In a general sense of the word, perhaps I am just lazy.  Maybe I don’t have any moxy.  What I think it is this: I am a big flake.  I subscribe to the laissezfaire school of thought.  I want to promise myself that I will be better about this blog.  I want to promise myself that I will be better at a lot of the little things that are my life…but what the hell, I’m only human! 

Plan on another post soon….or don’t.  No pressure!

I got to work in time to start off with a nice ass-chewing from one of the attorneys (I work at a law firm) and if that didn’t suck bad enough, I had to spend the rest of that day trying to fix the problem that had set him off in the first place.  So, I had to keep talking to him all freaking day.  I don’t know about you, but when someone rips me a new asshole, my first inclination is to hide and repair my ass alone…not go back for more!

To top off the repeated verbal assault, I had a million little fires to put out and it was really difficult to fix the original problem….blah, blah, blah….enough of the complaining!

…..

On to nicer topics…potential new job on the horizon!  Whaahooo!  I had a phone interview on Friday and I think it went pretty well.  The guy asked for some writing samples at the end of the interview, so I am taking that as a good sign.  I mean, if I was a complete ‘tard he would have just given me the whole, ‘thanks, we’ll be in touch’ bull.  This would be a major step up in the career, so any of you out there…a little prayer my way would be mucho appreciated!

…..

Weekend was pretty nice, TR and I went house shopping.  Shopping for our first house has been quite possibly more painful than what I imagine childbirth to be like.  Just when we feel like we have found the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood, it gets snatched out from under us!  It has really made me question whether I even want to be a home owner.  I mean, geeze, if getting one is this hard…can we even keep up with the responsibility of owning a home.  Yikes!

….

On a cheerful note…I am planning a photo montage of the two most awesome little men in my life.  Parmesan Allouisious Rumpelmintz (aka Parm, Parmy, Horse, Number One, Beebee…the list is endless) and Steven Aristotle Longshanks (aka Debil, Naughty Debil, Pookins, Number Two, Teeney Weeny Beebee…you get the idea here).  These guys are my bestest of friends so I have every intention of detailing their place in my life.

Ordinarily one might be pleased to smell a scent from the past.  Often times a particular smell will take me back to a happy time in my life.  For example, the scent of lavender reminds me of my Mother; the smell of bacon reminds me of waking up at my family’s cabin to my Grandmother making breakfast for everyone; Tommy Hilfiger’s cologne Tommy reminds me of my first boyfriend and you know, all the memories one might have about their first boyfriend… you get the general idea here.

Calgon’s Hawaiian Ginger however takes me away to a memory I never want in the forefront of my mind…the day I fed my cocker spaniel Lady a banana.  What?  Who feeds a dog a banana?  Me – that’s who and it was quite possibly the dumbest fucking idea I ever had!  Who knows what goes on in the mind of a 14 year old when they decide to give a chubby, sweet dog a banana as a treat.  Presumably she was looking extra cute, we were out of dog bones and I wanted to reward her with a banana.  Whatever.  What happened after I gave her the banana is where this story takes a turn.  Yes, a turn for the DISGUSTING!

I will save you the misery of describing what that banana did to the innards of my sweet dog, but Lawd ‘ave Mercy, she did not spare us.  Lady dumped that load directly in the house.  More specifically, in my brother’s bedroom.  I suppose I should have been grateful that she didn’t leave the dump in my room, but I wasn’t.  I was scared a little.  I had two options here:

Option #1:  Enter Boy’s room and prepare for the ass whooping of a lifetime for breaching the sanctity of a 12 year old man-boy’s room.  You see Boy, was just at the age where he was a little bigger than me now, and perhaps a little stronger.  With explicit instructions never to enter his room, I was scared to violate that order and find out if Boy was in fact able to kick my ass. 

Option #2: Spray a nice smelling scent into Boy’s room in order to mask the heinous smell and hope that perhaps he might not notice.

So, in an effort to rid the house of the stench of banana poo, I decided on option #2.  I sprayed that Hawaiian Ginger all over the damn place.  I stood in Boy’s doorway, careful not to cross the threshold, and spritzed until I thought my finger might fall off.  Then I closed the door and said a quick prayer.

Unfortunately for me, Jesus must have been on vacation that day because Boy came home a little later and found the banana poo scent masked heavily by Hawaiian Ginger.  He was NOT pleased.  Indeed, my fears had been accurate, he was now able to KICK MY ASS.  He then proceeded to do so. 

Calgon’s Hawaiian Ginger was ruined for me that day.

Do you have a scent that takes you somewhere special?  How ’bout one that takes you to a not-so-good place?  Share with me, I’m friendly!

1. Profanity: life cannot be discussed in clean language. I will however, occasionally appoligize for my dirty mouth.
2. A good time (no, not that kind of good time), I just hope I am fun to read.
3. Mundane life events made into molehills for the sake of discussion.
4. Complaining, apparently one of my finest skills.
5. Many, many, many stories both current and old. I can’t help it, I’m a giver.

Granted, this post may not exactly be rocking your world, but sheesh…gimme some time!

***update: Apparently some of us are not quite up-to-date on the English language and may have read the above term “annals of my life” as “ANALS on my life.”  I would like to assure all those who may read this, I am not inviting you into my ASS!  Annals, with 2 n’s are: ‘a concise form of historical writing which record events chronologically, year by year.’  I’m not yellin’, I’m just sayin’…The more you know. ***