A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, (for the moment) admitted to me today that she really, really wanted to post her secret lurve on my blog, but then decided it was best not to.

So, I made her confess it to me.

O. M. G.

I seriously might’ve kept it to myself, too. Poor girl. She had a crush on Billy Ray Cyrus. And I’m not talking about the Billy Ray of today (which, admittedly, is MUCHO! better than the Billy Ray of yore). I’m talking about the super-mullet-achy-breaky-heart-it-could’ve-been-me Billy Ray.

Okay, he’s always looked like the redneck George Michael to me. Anyone else see the resemblence? Or maybe George Michael was the mullet-less Billy Ray? Hmmm. Who knows? I do know that of the two, GM was much sexier than BR. (back then. and if I had to choose. which I don’t, thank God) Of course, I think it’s the mullet thing that throws me. BR of today has no mullet…and I think he could be sexy if he weren’t, you know, Billy Ray.

But I digress. My friend, who still remains nameless because as she says she’s still single and really doesn’t need this strike against her, had a crush on super mullet BR. I know, she was young. I mean, we’ve all had private crushes on someone that we’ve been (maybe) a little embarrassed about. (I suppose now is the time I could confess that I have had a crush on Eminem (or Marshall Mathers, depending on who you talk to) In my defense, look at that body! How could you not have a crush on him?

Anyway, my anonymous co-worker had a crush on Super Mullet Man when she was a kid. I suppose that is enough to forgive her. I didn’t have a crush on Eminem until I was an adult…but then I have always had a thing for younger men. (Sorry Fishdog)

And I did (do) like Air Supply. And Barry Manilow. And a few others who shall remain nameless (like my friend) unless I have another beverage tonight. I guess what I’m saying is, I shouldn’t cast stones. (Though I’m throwing some fuckin’ stones…I don’t care. Billy Ray!!??)

okay, I’m gonna switch gears for a second.

Today was a good day (except for at work–ugh–I’m a little behind). Anyway, it was good because Simon emailed me. It was great to hear from him. We chat about once every 10 days or so, but the email was nice. His knee is better and he had a training session with Birmingham City. Plus, he’s coaching two teams. A U-12 team and a ladies’ team.

I actually chatted with both of my lads today. Grant has been working a lot. He’s only been “out” three times since he’s been home. Poor baby. We chat a couple of times a week.

I love hearing from both of them. I miss them both terribly. Ridiculous, really. I look forward to talking to them on the phone again soon. Not that I’ll be able to understand them–especially Simon and that awful (I mean fantastic) Brummie accent. But it’ll be great to hear their voices.

It’s awesome to know they still care–that they want to keep in touch.

Okay, I’m sentimental tonight. I blame it on the pish (as my dear wee laddie, Grant, calls it); I mean–the Pale Ale.

Oops, I just admitted to drunk blogging. Where’s Miss Feisty when you need her? Oh yeah…Pebble Beach.

A friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, (for the moment) admitted to me today that she really, really wanted to post her secret lurve on my blog, but then decided it was best not to.

So, I made her confess it to me.

O. M. G.

I seriously might’ve kept it to myself, too. Poor girl. She had a crush on Billy Ray Cyrus. And I’m not talking about the Billy Ray of today (which, admittedly, is MUCHO! better than the Billy Ray of yore). I’m talking about the super-mullet-achy-breaky-heart-it-could’ve-been-me Billy Ray.

Okay, he’s always looked like the redneck George Michael to me. Anyone else see the resemblence? Or maybe George Michael was the mullet-less Billy Ray? Hmmm. Who knows? I do know that of the two, GM was much sexier than BR. (back then. and if I had to choose. which I don’t, thank God) Of course, I think it’s the mullet thing that throws me. BR of today has no mullet…and I think he could be sexy if he weren’t, you know, Billy Ray.

But I digress. My friend, who still remains nameless because as she says she’s still single and really doesn’t need this strike against her, had a crush on super mullet BR. I know, she was young. I mean, we’ve all had private crushes on someone that we’ve been (maybe) a little embarrassed about. (I suppose now is the time I could confess that I have had a crush on Eminem (or Marshall Mathers, depending on who you talk to) In my defense, look at that body! How could you not have a crush on him?

Anyway, my anonymous co-worker had a crush on Super Mullet Man when she was a kid. I suppose that is enough to forgive her. I didn’t have a crush on Eminem until I was an adult…but then I have always had a thing for younger men. (Sorry Fishdog)

And I did (do) like Air Supply. And Barry Manilow. And a few others who shall remain nameless (like my friend) unless I have another beverage tonight. I guess what I’m saying is, I shouldn’t cast stones. (Though I’m throwing some fuckin’ stones…I don’t care. Billy Ray!!??)

okay, I’m gonna switch gears for a second.

Today was a good day (except for at work–ugh–I’m a little behind). Anyway, it was good because Simon emailed me. It was great to hear from him. We chat about once every 10 days or so, but the email was nice. His knee is better and he had a training session with Birmingham City. Plus, he’s coaching two teams. A U-12 team and a ladies’ team.

I actually chatted with both of my lads today. Grant has been working a lot. He’s only been “out” three times since he’s been home. Poor baby. We chat a couple of times a week.

I love hearing from both of them. I miss them both terribly. Ridiculous, really. I look forward to talking to them on the phone again soon. Not that I’ll be able to understand them–especially Simon and that awful (I mean fantastic) Brummie accent. But it’ll be great to hear their voices.

It’s awesome to know they still care–that they want to keep in touch.

Okay, I’m sentimental tonight. I blame it on the pish (as my dear wee laddie, Grant, calls it); I mean–the Pale Ale.

Oops, I just admitted to drunk blogging. Where’s Miss Feisty when you need her? Oh yeah…Pebble Beach.

I totally listened to some Air Supply this morning. And you know what? I loved every second of it.

I was in 6th grade when Air Supply came to Little Rock, AR. It was my very first concert and my momma took me. She figured it was Air Supply–should be pretty tame. Imagine Mom’s shock when the girl sitting next to her asked permission to smoke a joint.

See, Air Supply fans had manners. I don’t remember anyone at the miriad of concerts I attended after that asking MY permission to smoke a joint…

Anyway, now that y’all are laughing your ass off at the fact that I’m outing my love affair with Air Supply–let me ask you something. What’s your secret and possibly embarrassing lurve? Come on…you can share. I won’t tell a soul. Really.

I totally listened to some Air Supply this morning. And you know what? I loved every second of it.

I was in 6th grade when Air Supply came to Little Rock, AR. It was my very first concert and my momma took me. She figured it was Air Supply–should be pretty tame. Imagine Mom’s shock when the girl sitting next to her asked permission to smoke a joint.

See, Air Supply fans had manners. I don’t remember anyone at the miriad of concerts I attended after that asking MY permission to smoke a joint…

Anyway, now that y’all are laughing your ass off at the fact that I’m outing my love affair with Air Supply–let me ask you something. What’s your secret and possibly embarrassing lurve? Come on…you can share. I won’t tell a soul. Really.

Just the other night I teased you with a vague announcement of congratulations for a dear sweet and very naughty friend of mine…

Well, break out the real bubbly because Naughty Kate Pearce is officially an Aphrodisia Author!

I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Kate is super special and nobody deserves it more.

Way to go, my friend. I can’t wait to share a glass of bubbly with you in person this summer.

xx

Just the other night I teased you with a vague announcement of congratulations for a dear sweet and very naughty friend of mine…

Well, break out the real bubbly because Naughty Kate Pearce is officially an Aphrodisia Author!

I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Kate is super special and nobody deserves it more.

Way to go, my friend. I can’t wait to share a glass of bubbly with you in person this summer.

xx

Strangely enough, it looks like it should snow outside.

Gray looming clouds. Gnarled tree branches swaying in the wind.

It’s not gonna snow, of course. A cold front did come through and it’s a brisk 39 degrees, but it’s not gonna snow. We only get that about twice a year, and usually it’s gone by the next day.

I love snow, in small amounts. I’m not a winter girl. I’m not one of those who wishes to live atop a snowcapped mountain in my cabin that is only accessable by snowmobile 6 months out of the year. I don’t want to have to wear insulated underwear everyday. I don’t want to have to dress like a 7-layer burrito just to go buy groceries. I wouldn’t mind visiting for a week, but truly, that’d be enough for me.

Give me sand, sun, and surf. Flip flops year around. Heat warming my cheeks when I step out of my refrigerated house. Little beads of sweat (okay, big beads of sweat) dotting my forehead while I take a jaunt down the shoreline. The smell of salt in the air.

When I hit the lottery–it’ll be all mine.

Strangely enough, it looks like it should snow outside.

Gray looming clouds. Gnarled tree branches swaying in the wind.

It’s not gonna snow, of course. A cold front did come through and it’s a brisk 39 degrees, but it’s not gonna snow. We only get that about twice a year, and usually it’s gone by the next day.

I love snow, in small amounts. I’m not a winter girl. I’m not one of those who wishes to live atop a snowcapped mountain in my cabin that is only accessable by snowmobile 6 months out of the year. I don’t want to have to wear insulated underwear everyday. I don’t want to have to dress like a 7-layer burrito just to go buy groceries. I wouldn’t mind visiting for a week, but truly, that’d be enough for me.

Give me sand, sun, and surf. Flip flops year around. Heat warming my cheeks when I step out of my refrigerated house. Little beads of sweat (okay, big beads of sweat) dotting my forehead while I take a jaunt down the shoreline. The smell of salt in the air.

When I hit the lottery–it’ll be all mine.

I can’t hold in my excitement.

Since it’s not my place to make the announcement for a dear friend of mine, I’m just gonna offer free glasses of cyber-bubbly and wait for her to get over the shock of today.

I’m sure she’ll share the news with everyone once she returns from her trip to the moon. BTW, phone reception from the moon is surprisingly good.

Until then, enjoy the bubbly.

I can’t hold in my excitement.

Since it’s not my place to make the announcement for a dear friend of mine, I’m just gonna offer free glasses of cyber-bubbly and wait for her to get over the shock of today.

I’m sure she’ll share the news with everyone once she returns from her trip to the moon. BTW, phone reception from the moon is surprisingly good.

Until then, enjoy the bubbly.