An early present

Since everyone enjoys embarrassing things from my past, I thought I would share a recently discovered gem with you all that I found while cleaning out a box of journals. I give you........

A Forced Letter To Myself about my "Plans"

By: Me

At: A Lame Young Women's Activity

Dear Me,

I have basically no plans for the future. I hope to make a lot of money. I want to marry a politician because that means I will have to have nice clothes and a big house for entertaining. If I don't get married by around 21, I'll have a high paying career of my own. I have no spiritual plans. I know I will graduate from college. I will complete my Mia Maid and Laurel awards because my mother is forcing me. I will own all of the Judith McNaught books(trashy romance novels). I will read every sequel to Gone With The Wind just to see if they can make anything worse than Scarlett with Joanne Whalley-Kilmer. These are my plans. 

Wow. I have said I was Daria in high school. Now I have proof. A money grubbing Daria. 

This letter made me bust a gut laughing. 

My mother is Phoebe. Mystery Solved.

For anyone who knows my parents, you all are going to love this story, so prepare yourselves. 

Tonight I came home from church to see my parents sprawled on their respective couches watching a movie. I was on the phone in a totally engrossing conversation, but I did look over and think to myself "WHAT THE CRAP!!!!!!???? They are watching Old Yeller???!!!"

But then I moved along. About a half hour later my phone got disconnected(tragedy!!) and I head to kitchen to eat dinner. I sit down with my meatloaf to eat for a second before I head out and my mom asks 

Mom: " Do you want to watch Old Yeller with us- it's a really good movie!" 

Me: "Heck no. I'm heading to Porter's. And I don't feel like crying tonight."

Mom:" Have you ever seen it?"

Me: "Are you kidding?" .......crickets......" Mom- everyone gets to watch it a million times in elementary school. It's the first time you get to embarrass yourself by openly crying in front of classmates" 

Mom: "Why would you cry? It's not sad is it?"

Me(freaking out): " Are you KIDDING ME??? Have YOU seen Old Yeller??!!"

Mom: "No- it seems pretty cute so far except for all the animals getting rabies"

Me(looking at her in disbelief......then looking at my dad): "This is your fault. I want no part of this. Also- this is an episode of Friends. Goodbye"

Time passes. I go to Porter's. And we re-enter our scene........

Me: " So.......how was it? Do you blame dad?"

Dad:" I didn't remember anything about the movie but that it had a yellow dog. I was as shocked as she was."

Mom: " I've been crying. "

Me: " Yeah- I knew that plot would blindside you with all your comments about how it seemed like all the cute animals kept getting rabies. SHOCKER! Also- Dad- I personally do not believe any human can have ever seen this movie and forget that the dog dies. Not only dies- is killed by it's owners. SERIOUSLY!!! I still blame you"

Mom:" It's OK- the Parent Trap is on now. I think the girls are really gonna get the parents back together."

Me(crying on the inside): " You are seriously kidding me now."

Mom:" No- look there's sparks at that little show they're putting on."

Me: " Mom- Walt Disney apparently made these movies at just your speed. You are seriously the master of the obvious tonight. "

Mom: "You are just getting all of your mean out on me."

Me: "No- you just managed to forget the plots of movies every human breathing on the planet has already seen and can see coming in the first 10 minutes of the movie. "

Mom: " I just think I was childhood movie deprived or something." 

Me: "Mom when we went to Disneyland when I was five you told me you and Aunt Les(her twin) despised Haley Mills for stealing your chance to be Disney's golden movie children because she wasn't a legit twin. You SAW this movie. If not as a child, I watched it like 50 times too."

Mom: " Nope. I think I saw the sequel though."

Me:" The one in the 80's where Haley Mills is the mom? Yeah- I think THAT'S  how you already guessed the plot of the parent trap. " 

Dad(crying in laughter)

Mom: " I'm just gonna watch now meanies."

Me" OK."

An hour or two later............

Mom: "Oooh I love Pollyanna so far. I can't imagine why this isn't more popular."

Me: " This is another one you don't even remember renting for me I take it? "

Mom: " No. There's no way you saw all these Disney movies and I didn't. If I missed them I am sure it was because I was cooking or doing laundry or cleaning up after you all" 

Me: "I'm sure the fact that you pay no attention and talk all the time when we rent movies had nothing to do with it. It's all slave labor all the time here. " 

Mom(gestures in my direction jen's fave gesture)

Me: "Whatever. Watch your wholesome Haley Mills movie. But don't blame me if there's no kleenex in the house tomorrow. "

Mom: " Oh no!! Is this one sad too?"

Me: " You've watched like 3 movies so far in the marathon and you haven't gotten the fact that all Disney live actions from this period have a "twist" at the end???!!! I cannot help you woman" 

 So I thought I would share my revelation with you all. My mother is apparently Phoebe. This explains alot. ALOT.

Are the men half-price too?

As a lazy girl, now that I have weird hours and days I have off in the middle of the week where I will probably see no-one, I have ....GASP!!!.....lowered my standards.

It used to be that Erica the Fantastica did not leave the house (unless getting flu supplies) without mascara and a decent (at least clean) outfit. And every day I HAD to wash my hair sometimes twice. Even with the flu. I am a fanatic about clean hair. 

Oh how the mighty have fallen. 

As a side note I should mention that every person with a normal amount of hair and especially my hairdressers tell me- "Erica you are committing a crime by washing your hair every day. You should wash every other day or third day. Your hair needs natural oils to not break" blah blah blah. My hair is shiny enough and strong enough for me. What you people do not understand is that since I have so little hair and a super greasy head I develop pose-able hair by day 2.  It literally sits on my hair in dark chunks at the roots. SO NASTY. I am not about to let that happen. Icky poo puppies!

Now you are asking yourself why is she telling us this and how does this have to do with the title of the blog? Well now I'll tell you.

Since I started working night I don't wash my hair sometimes. I know I will spend all my awake hours in my jammies watching DVR anyways. I decided to try to let my hair wallow in it's splendor of organic conditioning once or twice a week. It grosses me out, but no one sees me right? 

Au contraire mon frere. Lazy girls totally make quick runs to Walgreens or Walmart for unforeseen needs on their lazy days. I operate on a stealth mission. I wear the most awful and badly fitting clothes I own, sometimes wear a ballcap(yikes) and don't have on any makeup. Or maybe I have leftover makeup from the night before making me have dark circles under my eyes. Basically I am completely incognito. If incognito means fugly. 

So ....today I decided I need a supply of reading material for the 1/2 of a part of a holiday I get to be home this week. I primped for the outing by removing my mascara flakes, putting my greasy locks in a ponytail that parts itself, and wearing a ugly thermal shirt for maximum comfort. Then I headed myself over to my home planet, the beacon that calls to me every night as I drive to work. The Half Price Books Warehouse on Northwest Highway. (Laaaaah!!! Angels sing!!)

As every desperate girl knows- if you are completely open to dating anyone of any religion, a likely place to meet your perfect nerd guy is HPB. Hello!!! Not only does he READ!!! He reads so much he wants a discount cause his habit is too expensive otherwise. SCORE! 

Since religion matters to me in dating, HPB is not a place I go to troll for men. Is there a place I could troll for Mormon men even if i wanted to?? But I digress, I arrived at HPB looking freaking fantastic and went to pick out my books. I gotta be honest there was some fine fine eye candy at the bookstore tonight. Multiple men in their twenties or early thirties and with that cultured and intelligent look. They had cute glasses so I was glad my ....uhh...disguise prevented them from seeing my true self and falling madly in love with me. Whew! Close getaway!

But lo.....the magical pull of HPB does not draw only cool singles such as myself. As I cruised the aisles I was continually followed by middle aged Navajo in a Bomber Jacket. With his piercing stare and apparently tribal taught hunting skills he kept circling and waiting, circling and waiting. My fugliness only proved to him that I was unattractive enough to settle for a 45yr old. Curses!!

I held my books up high and covered my not-lovely face with this stupid zit that wants to make my whole chin red which was of course not covered by makeup. I ducked and ran for the mystery section. Where I encountered Really Sad Guy There With His Mom. As his mommy picked out hot novels from the romance section he kept standing awkwardly at the end of each of my aisles and looking around me but not at me. Obviously not a reader, how he planned to scam some babes at HPB I had no idea. But apparently he thought being only in hearing distance of mom somehow made him just another cool guy there to get a girl. Picking up random books and putting them down without reading the backs, stomping around loudly, sneaking to romance to talk to mom and answer her shouted questions and then coming right back to hover again. But getting closer each time and trying to brush up against me. Ewwwww! He had no game.  I sneaked over to the cooking section to look for Giada's book. Oh crap!!! Incoming Indian!!! Dive Dive!!!

I literally went to the Arts and Crafts and Travel book section on the opposite side of the warehouse to escape and then tried to make my way back to fiction by way of Collectors Edition books, but apparently I was acting a little too sneaky. I noticed that the Policeman I had seen in the parking lot was now discreetly following me around the store. Seriously!!! Although I did have on a big jacket to hide my thermal shirt greatness. But my books were on my arm in the open!! So I think to myself.....hmmmm...if I am being followed by a cop let's see what happens to the men. I boldly head back to fiction and take my stand. 

Suddenly Momma's Boy heads into romance and is fascinated by the titles(creepy!! but I am thankful he's gone) and I see the Big Chief head over to foreign language and make fast tracks to the back of the store. Safe now, I perused to my little heart's content. And run into a tall cutie with curling brown locks and adorable glasses who recoils in fear when he looks up from reading his back cover and sees my gremlin-ey self shuffling along with my greasy locks and books and parka and policeman. 

The moral of the story. Erica needs to dress up to go to Half Price. If I get all clean-like: the cuties will at least acknowledge me, the lowlifes will not think they have a chance, and the police will not have a reason to be suspicious of my excessive layering of clothing.  The End.

Why today was a Poo-ey day

1) I worked out(awesome). I worked out using my new Ipod arm sports band(awesome). I worked out twice as much and at twice the speed(awesome). I shook it like Beyonce when I heard my sweet JT or Christina(so FUN). I worked out so hard I got incredibly sick to my stomach an hour later and spent the rest of the day trying to decide if I needed to use the potty or throw up(DANG IT)

2) Because I got so sick I couldn't go to the temple tonight much less stand up or move around. 

3) I wasted my day off and couldn't run errands I needed to run- except for grocery shopping which was my one attempt to see if I could hack it getting out of bed and I almost hurled in the frozen food section of Tom Thumb. True Story. I though today might be the day a non-drunk girl throws up in her purse. 

4) Because everyone likes to bug me about it, I thought I would buy some legitimate american-made ulcer meds. Which turned out to be like 1 dollar a pill and only half my strength. IE - two freaking dollars a day as opposed to my Indian made drugs which were like 33 cents a day. I am sorry but I may have to buy Bollywood drugs. I have student loans to pay off. Sorry Detroit auto workers. Sorry american drug assembly line peeps. I am not paying 2 bucks for something that costs practically nothing to make. Even Canada has psychotically better prices than us. We are totally the world's overpriced Sugar Daddy paying for everyone else to get cheap or free meds by inflating our own prices. I won't be a part of it. 

5) I watched Pushing Daisies knowing everyone I love leaves me eventually. Just like Ned. Why are my fave shows always canceled?

6) I realized today someone dissed a friend and am sad about it. Grr. And a little(lot) angry. 

7) I realized that in order to make myself feel better I wore my Forks High shirt today .....when I should have saved it for going to see Twilight this week. Now I have to do laundry?? Not happening. I love you Edward, but apparently it will only show on the inside. 

8) I looked at a friend's cute dog pics and I want one bad. When am I moving out yet? Oh yeah...after I pay off the CC. DANG IT!!!!! Denied!!!!

So since I gave all those whiny reasons I hated today.....Here is why today was okey dokey.

1) I bought Yakisoba Cheddar ramen type noodley stuff and it rocked hard for a sick girl. 

2) I did get to watch both episodes of Golden Girls this morning. 

3) I have the satisfaction of knowing my Ipod is helping me work out better- even if it is also killing me. 

4) I saw Ned. It's bittersweet. This is the sweet part. You already heard about bitter.

5) I had tonight off so I did call in to the temple, but at least I didn't have to call in to work and get in trouble. We have a new hard core sick/being late policy that is scary!!!

Okay that is all. I will go back to watching Van Helsing on TBS and eating animal crackers. Totally the sweet life if it wasn't crackers to keep from vomiting. Oh well. We can't have it all. 

An Open Letter to my Beloved

Dearest Kohl's,

We have been lovahs for some time now, but I have always been bothered by something, now more than ever. You seem to give your love away at a discount all the darn time. I am now having trouble during our secret rendezvous telling whether I am really being given a special price or not. It seems that every day is a holiday or a reason to give it away practically for free. I have no problem with you being cheap. I love you more for it. I just feel a little like the person who came to help the kid who cried wolf. Tell me when it's really a sale different from every other day of the week and I will come. For now I am too distraught and confused. Super Sale, 6 hour Sale, Early Bird Sale, Amazing Sale Days, Sale-a-thon. Not that I could stay away for long. I am addicted to you like crack. And when I move into an apartment I'm sure I'll have little reminders of you all over my new place. But please- be more honest.  I need it to mean something to you too. 

E

The Tale of Old Blue the Shopping Granny

Whilst our narrator was shopping after work yesterday for costuming apparel at Goodwill, she happened upon one of the Grannies that makes growing old seem worthwhile. 

On first seeing Old Blue, she seemed a stereotype of the crazy friends of the narrator's own Granny. Blue had a helmet of poofy thick white hair- dyed to the shade of a bluebird's egg for fashion's sake. Her brows were shaved off and then painted on a charcoal grey- one slightly arched and higher than the other, with hot pink lipstick bleeding into her wrinkly granny pout.

Since she was making an outing that day Blue had worn a prized kittens and flowers applique sweater to show she meant business.....and was still a fine figure of a woman for any WWII vets also there to take advantage of the senior discount. 

Blue had up till this point in the story perused the abandoned knick-nacks and found quite a few only-slightly-broken figurines and tacky vases. The top of her cart showed her prizes, but her real treasure was hidden in the bottom of the cart- as we all shall see. 

Or narrator was in line to check out behind a hispanic family of like 5 older ladies and a poor put-upon middle aged man obviously driving las abuelas around and killing time while they shopped away. Las abuelas made quite a crowd so the line was muy looooong. 

Old Blue drunkenly drives her cart through the narrow aisles of crap and makes a sideswipe at the man as she reaches the end of the aisle. "MOVE  OVER LADY!!!" She says. Then a few seconds later. "Oh- you're not a lady. Move anyways!!!!" He moves aside and is laughing at her on the inside just as much as the narrator. So she approaches a checkout booth that is closed and tells everyone- "I wanted to check out NOW!" No luck Old Blue. 

So she then steers her cart back behind the only open line and appears to plan to make a close personal friend of our narrator, but then a lady with dyed dark brown cotton candy hair comes  up to stand with her. Cotton has the standard painted brows(brown at least) and crazy lipstick with applique sweater, but hers is black so she is obviously a darker more morose personality despite the puppies. She and Old Blue then get in a loud discussion about the most prized and previously hidden item in their cart. PEE PADS. Seriously. Who donates Pee pads to Goodwill? Someone apparently. These two have lined the bottom of their cart with packages of blue super thick pee pads. JACKPOT!! and Cotton tells all that she called her son and he said that they are so lucky to have found the pads at such a good price and he can't believe their good fortune either. 

To kill time Blue makes a few comments to everyone in line about how amazing her pee pads are(1 1/2 inch thick dry!!)  and then about her vases- and reveals that she is slightly ......let's say senile.... and repeatedly uses the wrong words and has obvious volume control issues with her voice. Which only endears her more to all she meets.  

Our narrator finally reaches the front of the line and is making her purchases, and Blue comes up beside her at the counter, turns to her and says in a whisper(or so she thinks)" You know those are the pads they have at houses for retarded people!!" 

"Retired people" says Cotton.

"Retired people" repeats Blue. 

"They do look nice" chokes out our narrator, holding in all of the laughter she is capable of. Tears run out the sides of her eyes as she turns to stare in the opposite direction to calm herself and not hurt dear Blue's feelings.

Cotton then tells Blue as the narrator carries off her loot. " OOOOH!! I am gonna get even more of a steal on the Pads.....I am gonna tell them the package is open so they should be half price!!!" Riiiiiiiiipppp. 

Ahhh retired people. We love them so.

Life Lessons from Hitchcocktober

After unexpectedly getting off work earlier than anticipated yesterday, I went to see Dial M for Murder- one of the few Hitchcock movies I haven't seen. Yay! It was cheesier and more hysterical than I ever anticipated. And the thrilling movie had many lessons to teach me. As a young person there is much I apparently never knew about life and I will share it with the rest of you.

1) If you have a Lover, you should keep only the most dirty letter around and call it "the letter" cause if you only saved one of many, as a guy, your lover will know which one it is when you say " You know... THE Letter".  

2) The face you make when accused of a murder out of nowhere - also the same face you make when you think you smell pancakes. Nostrils flared, mouth open, occasional sniffing. It's not nearly as shocking as I had previously thought. Apparently it's pretty mouth-watering to be accused of murder. 

3) It is apparently perfectly acceptable to be excited about your tramp girlfriend accused of murder having a complete mental breakdown in the future. And I quote " You're going to have the most fantastic breakdown!" Said with all the glee of a kid about to get a new bike at Christmas while hugging her to comfort her. Well....as long as I have something to look forward to I guess I CAN go through the death penalty trial with my chin up. Thanks honey!

4) Writing in all CAPS makes any handwriting totally unintelligible. Seriously. It's like your note fell from an alien planet. Who could have written this?? We'll never know- it was written in caps. Might be Bobo the Elephant with a pen in her trunk....might be a first grader....or even the Unibomber. It will forever remain a mystery ...alas.

5) Police stealing of evidence is totally cool as long as you can use it in a dramatic way to catch a crook. The fact that you had to run errands around town with the evidence for hours if not days to figure out what you had stolen and what to do with it is irrelevant. You're a cop. Feel free to try stuff out.

6) UK courts have a totally awesome idea. Place kinderfoto backgrounds behind the witness box so that when a person is filmed for a trial they have an attractive faux finish behind them instead of the boring courtroom. 

7) They totally have hot rollers at the prison. And they will keep the clothes you got booked in nice and cute and clean for you in case you have an impromptu visit home. A girl can't go home from prison looking less than swell.

8) I am glad they don't have "radio programs" anymore or all you married girls might be stuck at home. How can a woman want to go out and see friends on a Saturday night? Are you being ridiculous? Men may go out all night, but women should stay in. It's the law. That's like asking to go out to the market without stockings on. Preposterous! Your hubbie says just listen to your radio program or do some mending. That's entertaining enough for the females. 

9) It is extremely difficult if not impossible to use your Visa to hire a hitman. The lesson- take out ordinary sums all the time from the ATM and save them. Then gamble alot to throw people off the trail if you do get seen with money and in a year you might have enough in small bills to hire your killer. Wait. That doesn't make sense. I thought you lost money gambling weekly. That lesson makes no sense at ALL. I protest Hitchcock. I don't think you can hoard money AND have a gambling habit. Maybe I just don't know how to do it right. 

10) Really attractive, really rich women still scrape the bottom of the barrel with men. Is there hope for anyone? Only if you're OK with cheaters who are amused by your mental breakdown. Sad......tear.

11) Sleeping alone in a twin bed is no reason not to wear a hot negligee, tousle your curls and wear red lipstick to bed. You're dressing for you, not some man. 

Ok- off to curl my hair and darn socks. That's how us wealthy girl stay wealthy. 

PLAGIARIZERS BEWARE!!!

Ok- for reals. For MONTHS now I have had like 3 or 4 hits a day on my review of A Thousand Splendid Suns. I would have absolutely no problem with sharing my point of view and throwing my opinion out into the wide wide world of electronic data.....EXCEPT - out of three or four hits a day, maybe one search is the title of the book and the other three are "A Thousand Splendid Suns Book Report". CHEAP! People, I fully understand researching a topic and getting stuff to talk about for papers. I have spent more than my share of time in school, but seriously. I never googled the words "Book Report".

I seriously feel like looking up some universities and sending them my blog just to screw you all over. Be original cretins. And FYI- my thoughts aren't that original I am sure. Probably everyone who read the book thought the same thing. AND my research numbers alone prove that you are all turning in the same thing. How 'bout them apples?

Go read the flipping book. It was good. You probably know that from reading my just-for-fun report. If knowledge is power, reading is an arsenal in your hands. But use your arsenal for peace. That is another lesson from the book. That is all.

Breaking News for all He-men

Hey Red-Blooded American Men, no not you Emo types......... the ones who watch Monday Night Football and think they can get the babes in beer commercials(and still call them babes), the man who needs a Hungry Man meal and not some femme lean cuisine.........here's an announcement for you!

In case you were worrying about your dry skin but are way too lumberjack to use a pansy body wash with microbeads or some such crap, We the makers of Gillette(the best a man can get) have a much less wussy option for you. 

Gillette now offers you a Body Wash that will take off at least 3 layers of man stink in a single shower. AND since we know you were worried, but too butch to say anything, we are announcing an earth shatteringly amazing new discovery that is included in the body wash. DRY SKIN HYDRATOR.  

We know what you are saying to yourself. 

"Holy SHIZ. I have been waiting my whole life for something to hydrate my skin. My wife/Mom/Sister says use some lotion before your hands crack in half, but I ain't the type of guy to use "lotion" if you get what I'm saying...........in case ya didn't get that - not using lotion means I'm straight."

We at Gillette heard you. We did not create a bodywash with lotion. HECK NO!  The Dry Skin Hydrator is in no way a lotion. It uses cyborg alien micro....chips from a far off planet to invade and colonize your skin cells with moisture. No wait....not moisture....guys hate moisture.....they colonize you with H20 and lube.  Yeah lube. 

So get your woman/mom to go to the store and buy you some Gillette Body Wash with Dry Skin Hydrator. She may say to you"You mean Body Wash with Lotion?" or "You mean Cream Body Wash?" and you can feel confident in saying to her "DID I SAY LOTION??? NO!!! I want the one with alien cyborg H20 microchips made for MEN. Duh!? Now go back to the kitchen"

No need to thank us. We're Gillette. We're too straight to feel comfortable with praise from other men. Unless you feel like giving us a sports trophy or a raise.

The Tale of the Sonic Shadow and the Bunny

And now for your Halloween reading pleasure......I give you the spooky story of.....

The Sonic Shadow and the Bunny

Let us hearken back .......many many years ago. Sooooooo many years ago. Back to when the George Bush Toll Road/190 did not exist. When no one but the Packards had heard of Wylie or....... how do you say it .....Sack-See?  A day in the early 90's. When Madonna had a Secret and not an adopted African child. The distant past.

In these olden days, a Daria-like high school age girl was off from her monotonous job slaving away at a local Ross. Where customer service was really a front for the local narcotics trade. But I digress. This particular day she wanted to relax and enjoy the summer. But she had been stuck at home with her younger sister who is known as The Bunny. The Bunny always got her way in their house by using her Bunny eyes and her Bunny whine on their parents. Thus the Bunny wanted to try out her new driving skills and be the chauffeur for a trip to ......Lake Lavon. Alterna-Daria protested, but the Bunny was determined and AD figured her life was less at risk in the middle of a weekday than at any other time so she agreed. 

The Bunny managed to safely make her way to the Lake(or is it a cess pit?) and the girls tried to attract all of the cancerous UV rays they could to their slave-labor pasty bodies. As Texas was an inferno in August then, as it continues to be now, the young ladies were FRIGGIN HOT. They would have liked to dedicate more time to their melanomas, but they were mere millimeters from heat stroke. Especially Alterna-Daria who only sweats from her face and retains heat. Bunny and AD decided to make their way back home to avoid AD tossing her cookies. Back in the day in Wylie, one store, one beacon of hope existed for summer sufferers. SONIC. Like a mirage in the middle of abandoned carpet stores and trailer homes with Playschool gyms, the Sonic stood for all that was good and right and tasty in the world. 

The Bunny and Alterna-Daria made a pilgrimage to this sacred Sonic every time they came to the Lake(?). The Bunny pulled in to a parking space and rolled down her window. She and AD ordered their Route 66 drinks and The Bunny rolled her window back up to conserve the car's A/C. As she pushed the window-up button, the skies darkened slightly and a crow cawed as it landed on the red Sonic roof. 

The girls sang along to "Genie in a Bottle" and talked away, unaware that a devilish fate was circling in upon them. Minutes passed and AD looked for their girl-on-wheels to bring the drinks but the Bunny sang away and never once glanced outside of the car. She was completely oblivious that the seconds ticking away brought her closer to ......The Shadow.

Our villainous Shadow worked inside the Sonic and was known for her stealthy moves and invisible style, but only to those who knew she existed. Many employees had only heard of the Shadow, but had never seen her. She was that good at the shadowy game. She had grown up a middle child with mousy brown hair in a middle class family. No one ever paid her any mind which bothered her for quite some time until she realized that invisibility could work to her advantage. She began to study the art of spying and disappearing into the woodwork. Forced by her middle class mediocrity to seek a job, she applied at the local Sonic and figured she could practice her "ghost on wheels" technique. She had delivered many a Coney, many a Tot, and no one remembered the elusive phantom who delivered the fatty goodness.

This hot August day, the Shadow figured she had her perfect storm. Two girls singing along like fools to the  music in the car. Blonds too. Blech. They'd never realize she'd been there till she was back in the kitchen moving on to her next victim. The fools. 

The Shadow loaded up the Route 66 drinks on her tray and rolled toward the crappy white Mystique. As her skates turned, she prepared her most forgettable voice. "1.98 please. Thanks." roll away. It was almost TOO perfect. As she approached, the taller girl turned and saw her, but the younger one in the driver's seat kept singing. And singing. Was she ever going to realize her order had arrived?? How unorthodox. Typically people watched for their food. This younger girl seemed to NOT CARE about her drink. It was over 100 degrees out. Was she crazy?? The Shadow was perplexed. What to do??

Making a decision she would regret her whole life, the Shadow bit her lower lip and knocked on the window. And all hades broke loose. 

The young blond girl turned into a raving maniac, screaming at the top of her lungs and ripping away at the ceiling of the car. She kicked her feet into the gas pedal and floorboards of the parked car as if she was being attacked. The scream went on and on, even after she turned and looked the Shadow dead in the eye and saw her order sitting right there. 

The Shadow, unnerved by the convulsive epileptic death scream, started to scream herself and tossed the drinks in the air. Luckily she managed to catch them on the tray before they spilled all over her. The Shadow's stealth operation was now not only compromised, she was totally humiliated. 

The young girl rolled down the window of the white car, and, barely able to breathe, said "I'm sorry- you scared me." The older blond girl only laughed- apparently also unable to breathe. The Shadow thought she heard her say "I swear I'm gonna pee myself" but she could never be certain.

The Shadow said"1.98 please. Thanks." And rolled away in shame. Her shoulders hunched. Her invisibility having been too effective for the first time. As the kitchen door swung shut, the wind carried her cry"Marsha Marsha Marsha!!"

And the Bunny? What happened to our blond fluffy friend? Did the trauma of the Shadow's silent attack affect her in any way? Nope- still hopping along to Sonic. But now she stares at the kitchen door like a hawk. Bunny will never allow the Shadow to sneak up on her again. But she will continue to need a Cherry Limeade during the summer. It's Texas. Mortal Fear vs. Refreshing Drink -it's really a cost/benefit analysis type of situation. 

Bad Writing Challenge!!!

Ok friends. On one of those dumb ads on facebook they managed to suck me in to a contest to write the best story in six words. How F*U*N is that?!!! But you had to create a membership to their website blah blah blah. Not gonna happen.

So let's bring it on right here right now. A writing contest. But in 7 words cause that is my lucky number.

Your best story or funny poem in 7 words.

For example:

Men, Chocolate:Love one, lose the other.

Green Frog + Pink Pig/amber waves=LOVE

Erica says "This calls for Lady Gloves!"

Let the madness begin.....

Film Noir Vignettes

Instead of the typical quotes I now have for you a series of conversations for you. Please take them in the avante-garde, art-house film style they were meant to be shown in. This is classy stuff. Imagine a foggy night where the black and white film is mostly shades of gray........

A woman pulls her blue hoodie up over her hair, dons her big sunglasses and rolls down the car the car window........

"Hey look! I'm Little Blue Riding G! Whut!"

She then tries to spit her gum out the car window like a man and instead launches it about three inches in front of her to land on the upholstery.

In an attempt to imitate a creepy kid in Texas Chainsaw Massacre..........

"The road don't go there." unsuccessful snort

"Excuse me?"

"The road don't go there." slightly more successful snort

"Whatever you say Clarisse"(in Hannibal Lecter voice)

"Huh? I'm quoting Texas Chainsaw Massacre- not Silence of the Lambs"

"I'm sorry to tell you that unfortunately you sound more like Anthony Hopkins" very successful snort

"FINE. The road don't go there" Snooooort. "Fava Beans and Chianti"

"What is that in the middle of the road? Cement and black stuff?"

"It looks like a grey sweater and tire parts"

"I think it's grey cement and something that goes with grey cement"

"To me I say a cement ploppy and a dastardly mustache shaped tire part"

"Hee hee! Oh NO!!!!! You're driving too close to it! AAAHHHHH! Oh ...it's really just cement"

"I know."

"Maybe a cement turd if you will."

"I prefer cement ploppy but whatever. It was a messy pile o' cement."

"OOooh. I take that back. Cement and turd don't go together."

"They do if you eat shredded wheat. "

"Too true. That reminds me I need to stop eating oatmeal at work."

Quotitas Fantabulosas

"Surely you can clean your pile while I am still sitting in your pile"

"When did you have your warm delight? Last night?!!! Is that why it looks like a crusty delight now?"

"My mascara looks like Jessica Simpson when she goes on TV."

"I wanna itch my butt like Baloo the bear! You mean against a tree? Not just any tree- a coconut tree."

"I want to thank you for one thing about today ...which was the opportunity to meet someone more anal retentive than myself."

"The only reason we seem immature and talkative is because they are old and introverted. So their opinions don't matter. They're introverts dang it!! Why are they getting any input? Why are they even talking? Maybe I should stop talking."

A Little List of Things You Never Say

So while I was at work today someone crossed a social line that I thought was pretty much uncrossable. Along the same lines as the "don't ask a woman her age, don't ask if they've put on weight" rule.

Today a LADY I had never met walked up and looked at my co-worker's engagement photos. Which are way way cute I might add. So this LADY walks up and says....oh....are these your engagement photos? So my coworker says yes. And they are taped into her work"box o supplies" so they are obviously pics she likes......or so you would think if you were a normal person.

So my co-worker says ...yeah I am amazed they came out so well with it being 100 degrees out. If you compare the beginning of the session to the end you can see we look flushed from the heat. But they came out really well. My fiancee looks so cute.

So LADY says hmmm you look really awkward in these though. His arms are all stiff and unnatural. This one looks better than the rest though. It's hard to pick which is good- sweat versus awkward pose.

So my coworker had no response. Just uncomfortable laughter and a hurt look.

SERIOUSLY??!!!! WHO on EARTH thinks it's OK to criticize someones engagement pics which are already final and they obviously love and have taped to their work space???

It is one thing to help a friend pick out which shots are best when they are still evaluating and asking your honest opinion. It is a WHOLE other thing to walk up and comment about pics they already chose. What's awful to me is that all of the pictures really are adorable and I hope my coworker isn't all self conscious now about them cause of one crazy person. They didn't look awkward at all. Or sweaty. I know if I was her I would probably obsess over it though.

It's like telling someone they have an cute-ish baby or their boyfriend looks like he is a nice guy. What? You obviously hope to say that in a super passive aggressive way so the person is hurt and has doubts but is unable to blame you. LAME.

Did I mention that I can't stand people who end saying ugly things with "I'm just being honest"

Grrrrrrrrr. People just have no business saying some things.

And now- a shout out to all my friends. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!

I am glad I know such lovely people who give me proof that there are normal functioning people out there who aren't rude or mean. It is through your support that I am able to go out and face the world knowing I can get through anything. If I was around the "special" crowd night and day I don't know how I would survive. I thank you all for being fabulous,hilarious, and the kind of crazy I like to be around.

Be my sheep

I just added the new "Followers" application to my blog. So....for the first time in my life I am saying...BE A FOLLOWER. You can be a leader too. I will follow your blogs. But for right now this is your next task should you choose to accept it. Then all my blog updates show up on your google-ey dashboard. And I can see who my readers are without stalking you on google analytics. FUN!

FYI- Re: stalking on google analytics. Whoever has read my blog from Algeria, New Zealand, Sweden, Finland, the UK, Turkey,Colombia etc keep it up. I heart random countries that read my blogs!!! It warms my heart with childlike wonder everytime I see a new country. I am all Carmen Sandiego fascinated about it.

The Story of Checkout Ben

There once was a 19 yr old boy with tall, dark, & emo good looks whose only dream was to be in an amazing rock band. Or to play Rock Band. He would probably eventually become something quite nerdy for the money, but for now-it was all about the music.

The dreams of 19 year olds are not often already fulfilled and most unlucky post-high school acne-prone boys are forced to seek employment in places that are most absurd. Our hero Ben was driven by poverty and circumstance to apply at many stores in East Plano and it just so happened that Kohl's welcomed him as a valuable employee. You see... Ben was quite the diamond in the rough...and with Kohl's new lines of hard rockin' Hilary Duff and Miley Cyrus merchandise...Little Ben was sure to catch the eye of all of the teenyboppers in black leggings and plastic jewelry.

On this particular day though.....Ben was not living up to his potential. He had no reason to shine. All the cute girlies were back at school after Labor Day. It was windy outside. Just a quiet day to work in general. One of those days that there seemed to be no perks to working at a store famous for friggin awesome discounts.

As Ben stood there bored at his checkout counter.... a lovely and amazing woman(Cougar E) walked up to make her purchase. Ben thought to himself" If I were Mormon and like 10 years older I would aggressively pursue and marry this women, but Alas I am 19 and no one knows my religion." The lovely lady handed over her dirt cheap satiny shirt into Ben's capable hands. Ben said "Hi....Thanks for shopping at Kohl's today. Would you like to open a Kohl's charge and save 10%" which was secret code for "I love you".

The mysterious hottie said only " No thanks" which he knew meant "I think I love you too."

Made clumsy by his feelings, Ben turned quickly away and scanned the shirt's tag. And that was when tragedy ensued. Ben doubled over to get a bag for the shirt and stood up. He felt a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and then his throat and then..NOOO!!!

BUUUUUUURPPPP!!!!

Silence. Crickets. It appears she didn't notice. Or maybe she noticed and she's too polite to say anything. Maybe I should say something. But what?

"Your shirt's so cute it made me burp."

Once again. Silence. No wait she's turning to look at me!

"Huh?" OH NO!! She's offended!!!

"Ummm...nothing. Cash or Charge?"

As she completed the transaction by herself using the card swiper, Ben had a mental breakdown filled with whys. Why had he drank a coke with lunch? Why had he leaned over so fast? Why had he BLAMED HER SHIRT???

As he stood there face flaming and turned to face the register he never noticed that the lady's eyes teared up and that she had to bite her lip to keep quiet. In reality the lady couldn't tell if he burped or if it was another sound and the shock caused a time delay. Then she was further shocked by the joke and her only intelligible response was "Huh?!" until crazy laughter took over.

As the lady walked out of the store, she said "Goodbye! Thanks!" but poor Ben was too distracted by his shame to hear.

And thus we see the beginning of Ben.....who will become a rock star. Once he figures out how to turn burp-shame and word-vomit into angst-ridden lyrics gold.

Poor Ben.

Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Nordstrom

Dear Bloggie,

Since I had today off.....and totally slaved away yesterday....and totally didn't shop on Saturday.....I way deserved to shop today. So I did. No recriminations bloggie. It was some well needed me time. And as I was driving home tonight at 9pm I thought to myself...why do I love shopping so? (I also thought- I am glad I got lunch at 1 instead of "waiting til I get home to eat lunch" since my trip lasted a leeeetle bit longer than intended)

Here's another thinker bloggie- Why am I not on Project Runway since at least once a month I get an idea in my head for a whole outfit or maybe just one specific item that apparently does not in reality exist although it SHOULD. And I spend endless hours shopping for something that does not exist.

Let us review the items that I apparently cannot find.

1) A sweater dress made for a woman with boobs. Yes I said boobs. And all you flat girls bite me. I get to whine about clothes not fitting on my own blog darn it. I have literally tried on like 15 sweater dresses....not ONE of which fit me correctly. ARGGGGG!!!!!

2) A pair of grey knee high boots. For realz bloggie, this item has been my holy grail since 2006. I found one pair for about 400 dollars last year that were still not even exactly what I was looking for even if I was a lottery winner and didn't have monster calves that never fit in boots anyways. Even if I couldn't afford them or fit in them, to know my dream boots existed would make me happy. Right now those boots are like the rattle in your car that is not there when the mechanic drives it. Please prove that I'm not crazy !!! ACCIO BOOTS!!!

I am so frustrated by my search for jewelry that I resorted to going to Michael's and (beading) tonight. I would be ashamed of taking up the 12 yr old girls sleepover hobby, but I've been driven to it. DRIVEN bloggie. Over the edge it seems.

This obsessive need to locate the perfect item has occurred in the past. For example- my red hoodie search ended happily last summer at JC Penney after many years of fruitless searching and pining.

Do men understand this impulse at all bloggie? The need to find the item of your dreams? The pull of the sale rack? The satisfaction of buying a skirt at one store and shirt at another that totally match. And then finding amazing shoes later that were made for the outfit? The heavens smile down upon me sometimes, choirs sing, violins play, and a warm glow emanates from the "the perfect(and on SALE) outfit".

Bloggie....I see you looking at the shopping bags sitting in my room. Ummm.....(guilty smile)Listen, I am finished shopping for this week. Ok and next week too. I will totally be good and pay off more school stuff. And eat at home. And try to not buy another purse even though....

Ok one more

3) The perfect dark magenta soft leather purse. I see a bunch of wallets in the right color scheme but no purses. Where is my magenta purse??

Oh. Um. So yeah. I got distracted. What was I saying bloggie? Oh yeah. I promise not to buy stuff for a while. Apparently the fashion industry has your same interests at mind and won't make awesome stuff for me to buy anyways right now. Jerks.

Hey! I was calling them jerks, not you bloggie. You're so sensitive.

More Sugar!! More Dr. Pepper!!!!! Tylenol PM!!!!!

So.....in a random conversation I had recently with myself in the car and then with others....a subject has come up.

The dating situation is crap. What to do...what to do????

So being the queen of random and inappropriate thoughts I pondered to myself- Why are there so many single people and yet none of us want to date each other? If we all got drunk and made out...I bet alot of lasting relationships might come from it. We are all way too uptight about dating. If there were more hormones or kick starts to make people take notice of each other......

The solution is not alcohol. This was just the random thought part.

But ....are lowered inhibitions a solution to the problem?? This is my lasting impression from the whole scenario. How do we get ourselves to be less obsessive and stuck thinking in our little boxes and go with the flow and be open to more options? Hmmmm.

Do you all have any ideas? There are all the Mo-Acceptable Drugs. There is the sugar high. That's just likely to make you even more annoying and obsessive. And with ADHD that will make you unable to focus on one person.

I am a happy camper after taking Tylenol PM but who knows what I might say and I will fall asleep on any date.

Hmmmm. I am open to suggestions.

Another reason I am drawn to Bravo like a traffic accident : The Slade Smiley Edition

Prepare yourselves for some horrific metrosexual(to be kind) shots of the man I can't stand the most on TV right now. Mr Slade Smiley. There are so many reasons I can't stand him. For most of them you can just go to his Myspace and find out for yourself. The man is a former mountain biker/model. And if you look for former pics some are pretty obviously.........lets just say porn-tastic. ICK! Now he is a real estate mogul. Of course. Who wants to say they got their money from chesty shots for Men's Fitness and other less reputable mags. So anyways. The story of this travesty of TV is that he and his fiancee Jo were on Real Housewives and then broke up. Of course they can't let go of their 15 minutes of fame and Jo suddenly comes out of nowhere now as a talented singer(not a title expert/stay at home trophy). Apparently she had us all fooled by seeming like your average self-obsessed LA type plasti-girl. She is a plasti-girl with a voice dang it!!!!



Now we get the privilege of watching Jo do a dating show where(TWIST) all the men live with her ex Slade!!! DRAMA!!! GASP!!!



Who cares. Not me. But I got stuck watching since my sis has home for the day sick and of course you can't turn away from a train wreck. Or a She-man in a paisley scarf as the case may be. Exhibit A: The scarf.





Seriously. The man wore a black short sleeved tee and a woman's paisley scarf. The humanity. And he is seriously trying to confront this guy in this scene for making chocolate chip cookies in the shape of a woman with big boobs(supposed to be Jo) . Seriously. He could see nothing funny about it and wanted the guy kicked out of the house for being disrespectful. It's totally immature but seriously. If you ask a group of bored men to make cookies....what shape are you expecting them to all come out as??? It was totally ridiculous!!!! Slade is totally a wet blanket personality. Which leads us to Exhibit B....the water feature

Here are some of Jo's dates at the water feature. Don't you dare call it a pond. It is a water feature. No one is meant to get wet in it or disturb it in any way. In one episode Slade went crazy because the men played a game of making people look for coins they dropped on top of the rocks at the bottom of the pond...I mean water feature. And he was all......this is NOT a POND!!! It's a water feature!!!! Duh!!! Of course. I forgot all about the copy of the Gay man's guide to aquatic landscaping that arrived in the mail today along with the Men's Fitness. It IS a water feature.


Exhibit C- the v-neck shirt. That looks like a woman' fit shirt in boy colors. And he appears to shave his legs.
Exhibit D- any date with Adrienne Curry should tell you the quality of man he is. UG. And somebody cut or restyle those man-bangs before I have to shave his head myself.

Exhibit E- yet another freaking scarf. WHY??!!!!!! And now he appears to be a 14 yr old girl with ponytail holders on his wrist. They are an essential accessory. As a woman I understand the need to put your hair in a pony at any time.

Exhibit F- I don't even need to say anything. The sweater hat speaks for itself. The twist slightly to the side shows just how cool Slade is. In case you didn't get it by his wicked cool water feature, the scarves, the bangs or the ponytail holders.

And thus you have it. Why I can't stand Slade. Other than the sick and twisted psyche that is totally down with reality TV to promote the girl who is supposedly your ex dating other people with you as a part of the screening process. Not stomach wrenchingly wrong at all.

And if you look at his myspace....did they really break up?? Who promotes their ex's crap songs like that?? And if they really are broken up...who exploits their ex's possible 15 minutes of fame like that? It's just sad either way. Breaking up means MOVING ON.

SO MOVE SLADE!!!

Awkward

This is another blog about those special people. This time about those who get their way by the sheer awkwardness/shock value of their behavior.

I prepare myself for the nosy people, the gossips, the jerks. I know to avoid the the nit-picky bosses and the lazy co-workers(not an issue now luckily- yay nursing!). Every once in a while someone breaks through the defenses I have set up by the sheer unexpectedness of their behavior. Asks the question NO ONE should ask , much less in public. Signs you up without asking to take on a task which you don't find out till to late to replace you. The HUMANITY!!!!!

Today was one of those days when someone got me. I admit it. They managed to do it by being a) socially unaware 99% of the time and b) talking to me across the room in front of like 6 other people. Normally I would be able to still be a total pain in the butt and defend myself against this onslaught of "special" behavior but when you add the two elements together........it's not as easy to be mean and evasive in public conversations. ARG!!!! I was USED!!!! MANIPULATED!!!! And there's not much I could do about it!!!!

And I admit it. Although I am my mother's role model for being an empowered woman who says no and controls her own destiny....I do frequently say yes when I should say

SCREW YOU!!!
HECK to tha NO!!
Why is my time less important than yours???!!!
It's none of your business!!
If you don't want to do that, why should I?
I don't want to get involved!
MAKE ME!!!
DO IT YOURSELF IF IT'S SO IMPORTANT!!!
Are you kidding me? Seriously?
And why would I want to do that??
That's not a talent or something I enjoy doing. Ask someone who actually likes to do that.
What made you ask me?
DO I look like I need another thing to do?
In the time it took to ask me you could have done it yourself.
WHO CARES????!!!!!
Why should I take one for the team again??? Isn't it your turn??


These are all expressions that maybe I should have used in many situations in my life. I let special people manipulate me because I don't want to hurt their feelings or damage their delicate psyches. Or I am unsuccessful in my stealth avoidance techniques of these people. Or I just can't get the words out. ARG!!!! The inner desire to please and be nice is always my downfall.

My evil self has been foiled again !!!!!

A mistake you only make once

So here's a short little story for all of you that brightened my day and made me laugh until I cried.

Tonight I volunteered as I usually do on Wednesday nights. In the place I volunteeer there are many many many lockers available to store your stuff. The locker numbers are also completely and totally out of order. Not sure how it happened, but it's so bad there's almost no point to having a locker number. Each locker is supposed to have one hanger in it in case someone needs to hang stuff. There are also stalls to change your clothes.

This is not the actual locker room, just an example of a much smaller one.....Imagine what you would do to check that each locker had a hanger in it?

Often people grab the hangers to use them and then don't remember to put them back in the lockers at the end of the night, so one of the jobs you may do as a volunteer is to go to all the stalls and put the hangers back into the lockers that are empty. You walk by, open all the lockers, check for a hanger, if it needs one, you leave it open, then you go back and replace a hanger in all the open lockers after you clean the stalls. It takes like 2 minutes.

Tada. That is all the backstory you need.

So tonight someone relatively new(aren't you glad I am keeping you anonymous?) was given the task and told to make sure each locker had a hanger. It was also CRAZY busy. Insane amounts of people there using the lockers. IE- like half of them were missing keys and still locked. Our Friend started her task by checking the lockers and she thought to herself....if I leave a locker open, someone might walk by and close it(why they would do this... I don't know) ....so I better just lock all of the lockers without hangers and take their keys with me. Our friend then walked up to me with a pile of like 40 keys and was super proud that she had figured out which lockers needed hangers.

And now she had a pile of 40 keys and no way of finding the completely out of order lockers.

Being a super sensitive person, I laughed myself silly and then made her wait till a few more people could see her insane pile o' keys and then we spent the next while (with more helpers) matching back all of the keys to the lockers and Our Friend would hand us a hanger to use as we found them. We assumed they were from the stalls. She then proceeded to the stalls to clean them out.........where she picked up a ton of hangers which now had no homes because she had gotten new ones out from storage for the lockers. Seriously. It killed me. Then for the rest of the evening you could tell who had heard the story by who looked like they had cried recently.

Friend......Have I mentioned that I heart you deeply??

The Mo Connection

So whilst stalking Stephenie Meyer this week I reflected on the fact that I had this overwhelming urge to walk up to her in the book-signing line and shout "I'M MORMON TOO!!" I truly felt like if she knew I was also her same age and mormon that we would become insta-BFF's and I would be the inspiration for a character in her new series and and we could listen to Muse together and have diet cokes and cheesecake.

Why am I so deluded? Why do I have this urge anytime anyone who is a semi-celeb and mormon visits? I feel like we are all nice people on the inside and knowing that we are all Mo's would give me instant special attention. Like they would meet me and say- I feel like you're my sister somehow ...there's a special glow in that girl. Oh...mystery solved...the spirit spoke to me.. It's cause she's mormon. I need to spend extra time meeting and talking to her ...maybe give a spiritual message and close with a prayer and hug.

I had this same instinct with the Aquabats concert I went to a few years ago, but I was too chicken to say or do anything....plus it's a concert and I'm in the audience. It's not conducive to meeting the band. All night Nick and I kept coming up with ideas for what to shout into moments of silence to reveal our secret connection. Stuff like "CTR!!" or "Families are Forever!!" I was a fan of "Modest is Hottest!" But being amazingly cool people we did nothing. Nick asked me at the end of the evening why I had not shouted something. Of course I had actually revealed my secret identity because the moshers had half ripped my shirt off and exposed my "testimony" halfway through the concert which I didn't realize until the lead singer poured a bottle of water on my head, then got an uncomfortable look in his eyes and turned away. I looked down to see a sleeve of grandma G. Lovely. I'm not only mo. I am grandma raggedy mo.

So anyways. Why do I have this compulsion?

And Stephenie Meyer.....as I said in line...I do totally love you and we do totally have the same taste in music and your books rock.

And WE ARE SISTERS IN ZION!!! Ok I said it. Ahhhhh. Relief. The burden of keeping my secret is lighter.

Here's Your Sign- The Seattle Edition

I just got back from a fabulous trip to Seattle for the Breaking Dawn concert series. I will be posting more pics later, but for now a photo montage of the ridiculous things I saw in Seattle. Other than the girl dressed up as a lamb bride at the concert.


Our Hotel - By European style, they mean we provide you nothing but a bed. And the self-righteous feeling all environmentalists get for "conserving water" with each flush of the communal toilets.

A) How on EARTH could anyone start a business for Port-a-Potties and call it Honey Bucket???? And B) all I could think of was Honey Buckets of Oats. Which is even more wrong.

Safety cones are now avant garde art. (I had the voice of Mike Myers running through my head "If it's not scottish it's crap!" Actually he was mostly just saying "It's crap" in my head with a scottish accent)

Take your filthy paws off my silky drawers.

I confess to the sin of gluttony. And not being repentant at all for my gluttony.

You are now entering the LOVE ZONE. I enjoy that the "Love Zone" is also the place to get classy nails. I agree with an old friend that the minute you actually say the word "classy" something becomes NOT classy.

Ok-more fun later. And Hey You..... Grubby Hands!!! Keep your mits off those ripe cherries.