Tag Archives: wtf

2011: The Month of Mel Day 24: Listen up!

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Dear Internetwebz with your foot fetishes,

Check out my sexy new slippers…

Aw yeah. These are HAWT and you know it. (well the pedicure is, anyway)

So yesterday, I had a new experience and I’m dying to talk about it. But I can’t. But I’m going to talk about a few things I witnessed while I was experiencing my new experience…

  • Ladies and Gentlemen, when you’re in a waiting room (and I don’t care what kind of waiting room it is) please do not listen to your music without headphones.
  • Please don’t talk on your bluetooth device as loudly as possible (because you have to raise your voice to compete with the other bluetooth talker.)
  • Please, please, please don’t wear the strongest, cheapest, headache inducing perfume known to man, and for the love of the gods, PLEASE don’t respray it while in the waiting room.
  • If you’re texting, turn THE VOLUME OFF and use the vibrate or silent mode. I said OFF not UP. Holy crap. That’s an obnoxious texting tone and it does not need to be heard in the next county.
  • It’s really not cool to bitch at the people that “you’ve been waiting thirty minutes, hurry the EFF up, already.” That is not going to get you seen any quicker. I promise.
  • DON’T FREAKING SMACK YOUR GUM.
  • If you’re playing a video game on your iPod, turn the volume OFF.
  • See my slippers above? They are to be worn in my house only. Not outside, in the public.
  • That robe you have on? Also should be worn at home.
  • Ditto the rollers.

Have we learned something today, Internetwebz? I sure hope so…

2011: Month of Mel Day(s) 4,5,6,& 7

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So, here’s the thing. I haven’t seen El Jefe in 3 weeks. He was in town Thursday afternoon. I didn’t blog Friday… so deal with it. If I had blogged, it would have gone something like this:

Month of Mel Day 4:

In 1900 my Mema was born today. She was awesome. I miss her and her fried pies.

I haven’t seen El Jefe in 3 weeks and I’ve missed him like I would miss oxygen a little bit. He got me an iPad for my birthday. Let’s all pay homage to El Jefe because he is awesome.

(this is where we pay homage. Do It.)

Saturday

Month of Mel Day 5:

Saturday we went to see Jenn C. do her emcee thing at Electric Cowboy. She was really funny and looked beautiful…I wanted to ride the electric Bull but couldn’t because I was afraid something would go wrong and I wouldn’t be able to do my Sunday event…

Sunday:

Damn. 5:00 A.M. comes really effin early. Just sayin. I needed to get El Jefe to the airport in the 6:00 A.M. range–then I had to get to the River Market to walk/run that half marathon that was a really good idea a few months ago.

My untrained goal was to finish at 3:30. My walking partner, Eric and I finished at 3:25:09. As far as I am concerned, this was a big win.

Here’s Team Melf:
Lindy, Me, Eric, Robyn
Me and Robyn after we finished. We are totally celebrating. As we should be.
And here is my official stuff. I . Am . Awesome . If you don’t think so, then you suck.

I came home with a couple of souvenirs…and I’m not talking about my medal and MELF shirt

Yes that’s a 2 blister, blister. Awesome.

I’m happy. and proud. and so glad it’s over.

Today is Monday. If I’m not at work, now you know why…

it’s not polite to leer

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Let’s face it. We all know that I am a bit lucky in the breasticle area. I have a rack and I don’t worry about hiding it. (because seriously, where on earth would I hide it? Behind a barn? Wearing a tent? No thanks)

Yesterday I wore a cleavage dress and I will admit that my girls looked pretty good. It was a good boob day. (I know, you’re asking if there is ever a bad boob day–trust me, there is.) They weren’t all out there in their own zipcode and they weren’t pandering at the corner, but they also weren’t wearing wallpaper and blending into the background either.

I’m used to the occasional glance of appreciation and even the occasional “HELLO THERE” stare. What I am NOT used to and will NEVER be used to is the leer.

And yesterday, while sitting at THE LONGEST STOP LIGHT EVER, I was the recipient of a leer.

A really creepy, old dude in a moving truck leer.

You know how you just know when someone in the car next to you is staring and you don’t wanna look over at them but then you do anyway? Yeah, that’s what happened and I wish I hadn’t. Ugh.

Finally, the light changed and I moved forward only to have Mr. McLeeryPants driving at the same pace. Still leering. And possibly drooling a little while he was mouth-breathing. Gross. Close your mouth, CroMagnon. Thanks.

So I did what any smart girl in my situation would do. I hit the brakes and he flew right by…

Then I gave him the inverted finger:

Then I requested a fly by from the tower and was denied. But I did it anyway and made the dude spill coffee on his uniform and after getting my ass properly handed to me, I went to the beach to watch a little volleyball action.

Best end to the day ever… (the scene is in Spanish which just adds a little spice…)

Hope you guys have a great weekend!

total eclipse of the earworm

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So I woke this morning with TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART playing in my head. I swear, my brain likes to mess with me. It made me dream freaky crap last night and then it gave me the earworm from hell.

Thanks, brain. You are awesome.

I always think of the summer before 9th grade when I hear that song. We were at church camp (true story!) and I had a crush on a boy named Darryl. (Not his brother Larry or his other brother Darryl.) Darryl was an older boy… he was going to be a junior to my freshman. He had blond hair, blue eyes and he wore a blue bandana tied around his head. He was just dreamy in a mid 80s sort of way.

After lights out, our camp counselors would always sneak off to the lake to get baked commune with nature, and we always snuck out to the rec area to make out play ping pong. Darryl kissed me played ping pong with me that night while Bonnie Tyler wailed about her heart’s total eclipse.
When church camp was over, I never heard from Darryl again. He was a ping pong playa and my heart was eclipsed. Totally.

Maybe I should have set my eyes on his other brother Darryl after all…

And for fun, here’s the Literal Video Version of Total Eclipse of the Heart…

Embedding is disabled. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend clicking the link and watching. Funny stuff right there.

toes, rose, nose, blows, snows, hos…

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I got nuttin’ of value for you today. But apparently I like to rhyme.

Let’s see if I can work all of the title into a blog:
I woke up feeling pretty darn great today. That’s always a bonus, especially since yesterday I felt pretty crappy all day. My nose was all stopped up yesterday so there was lots of blowin’ goin’ on.

The last two days I’ve woken to the smell of roses, which means I’m rising and shining with a happy smile. I highly recommend you try this at home–it’s pretty darn awesome.

I have spring fever so bad I can taste it. (or smell it… ☝) Thank goodness the snow is all gone. I’m about to call Lola the Toe Girl and schedule my post-winter pedicure. I’m trying to decide on my first color of the season. I’m really digging the OPI Texas Collection for 2011….And I’m torn between 3 lovers colors–feelin’ like a fool… Ooops, bad digression there. Sorry about the earworm I may have just given you…

What do you think?



I’m pretty drawn to Austin-tacious Turquois, Y’all Come Back Ya Hear?, and Guy Meets Gal-veston…

Decisions, decisions.

The post-winter pedicure is very important because it marks the beginning of my annual Feet & Leg pictures… And let’s face it, nobody wants to see crusty feet, nasty toes, or ashy legs when you’re posting pics of them on the internetwebz…

And finally, I have some much needed time with my girls tonight and tomorrow. (ie: the hos or is it hoes? It’s not ho’s….because even though my hos possess many awesome things, in this sentence it is plural and not possessive…) Well, I’m sticking with hos because even though we’ve all collected our share of tools over the years, none of us are actually a garden utensil.

There! I did it. I made my title match my blog. I am awesome. And I rhymed. I could probably continue, but I think I’ll just let it go(es)…

mothers and daughters

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My mom has often compared me to Penelope on Criminal Minds. I’m not sure if it’s because the character is always wearing bold colors, cool glasses, does funky stuff with her hair, or is curvy. (yes, CURVY. *koff*) Or maybe it’s a combination of all. Who knows.

But the funny thing about our relationship is the one thing that mom recognizes in me as a core part of ME is the one thing she wishes she could change. And seriously, if I haven’t changed by now, I ain’t gonna.
These past few days I’ve depended on her a lot more than usual because I’ve been helplessly stranded while my car is being worked on. (Thank you, Earl the Mechanic, for the good deeds you are bestowing upon my BlueBelle.) I won’t have BlueBelle back until Thursday, so Mom has volunteered to be my chauffeur. The first couple of days we were stranded by snow. (Actually, I could have gone to work on Tuesday, but Mom wouldn’t give me permission. <–not kidding.)

Enter Wednesday morning.

I open the door to the car.

Mom: THAT’S what you’re wearing today?

Me: No. I have on a whole ‘nother outfit underneath. This is my red
herring outfit.

Mom: Don’t you have some different pants? (the horrid pants in question are black crop cargo pants that meet the top of my black boots.)

Me: Yes. They’re underneath the red herring pants.

Due to the snow, it takes Mom a little longer to drive me to work than usual. Part of this is because she slams on her brakes at various times. And part of it is because she’d rather bitch about the way the other drivers drive instead of actually driving her car. Now because we have an extended time together and there is no way for me to escape (aside from throwing myself out of the car and off the overpass…which I did consider momentarily) Mom uses this time to offer me more advice on my appearance.

Mom: We really need to talk about your hair.

Me: Oh?

Mom: Yes. You know you look like a cartoon, right?

Me: Yes! Thanks! I was going for Jessica Rabbit. How’d I do?

Mom: It’s the wrong color.

Me: Oh? More orange, less red?

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my momma with all my heart. These exchanges serve purely as entertainment. But sometimes, just one turn of phrase or comment in the right tone of voice can make me feel like I’m 12 years old again. How does she do that?

The good news is, I’ve completely reworked my entire wardrobe and am now sporting velour jogging suits, sweaters with puppies, kittens, and rainbows on them, pleated khakis, and SAS Shoes. Thanks Mom!

Okay, so most of you are adults (at least in age)…does your mom still do this to you?

don’t you just love bad ideas?

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I totally love bad ideas, when they involve boys, booze and being bad. This half marathon thing? Not really my idea of a good time. I must have my IQ tested. I bet I’m barely functional.

Not sure how far Birdrunner and Lindy Lohan and I walked yesterday, but let me tell you…if Birdrunner ever tells you that there is only 1 hill on this trail, you can rest assured that is not true. (pictured: Me, Lindy, Robyn aka Birdrunner)

She called the other hills, “inclines.” Um yeah, since according to Merriam-Webster those two words are synonymous, I guess technically she was right.

Whatever. My ass hurt so bad this morning that when I tried to roll out of bed I yelped.

I know I’ll be thanking her in 3 months when I eventually crawl across the finish line of the half marathon, but right now–gratitude is the least of what I’m feeling.

Being a glutton for punishment, and obviously the type of person who enjoys pain, I’ve agreed to continue working out with her. I’ve never claimed to be smart. Only cute and witty. Thank goodness those two things have gotten me pretty far in life. Guess now I need to start working on my brains.

The good news is, if I don’t have any brainmeat, then I won’t be tempting to the Zombies when they take over the world.

This is only the beginning. I must warn you, as good as I feel when I’m exercising, I will still bitch about it like it’s my job. Because let’s face it, it sucks to wake up and be sore. And it sucks to get half-way through a walk/run and not want to go any further. And frankly, it sucks to cut the cheese dip out of my diet.

I mean, CHEESE DIP! It’s like my Kryponite.

Team Melf…

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I did it. I took the plunge. I bit the bullet. I *insert various other cliches*… I am out of my damn mind…

But I don’t care. I now have a goal and I’m gonna meet it.

What did I do? I signed up for the Little Rock 1/2 Marathon.

Yeah, we won’t even discuss how I haven’t run or walked much in the past 6 months. The less I think about that the better off I am… Sometimes denial can be a good thing.

If you’ll recall, I ran my very first 5K 2 years ago on my 40th birthday. I had never run a full race of any kind. Now I had walked them…but I wanted to run all the way. (not that you would mistake my ‘run’ a real run. because it isn’t. I really do think I walk faster than I run. LOL) And so, I did it. I met my goal and ran the whole race.



It seems I’ve roped a couple of other chicas in with me. Birdrunner and Lindy Lohan have both signed up as well. My friend Carbkiller (from FatChicksRunning.com where I rarely blog anymore because I’m lame) is coming in from Cali for the full! And rumor has it, El Jefe is thinking of doing the half as well. What’s this? The madness is spreading like a Zombie Virus! (speaking of zombies…OMG THE WALKING DEAD IS TEH AWESOME AND I CAN’T WAIT TO CATCH UP THIS WEEKEND!)
I’m not going to fool myself into thinking I’ll run the whole way. Hell, I may not run at all. It is 13.1 miles and I only have 3 months to prepare for it. But the thing is, I have a goal now. And I’m motivated and excited and ready to get back off my ass.

Who knows. Maybe one day I’ll actually attempt a full marathon like CK…or maybe I’ll just be happy to have completed the half and move on.

bad night

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I’ve been up since 3:00. I hate realistic dreams nightmares. I hate them with a passion. Especially the ones that linger after I wake like a fist of dread in the pit of my stomach. Strangely enough, I’ve had a few of them recently and I’m ready for them to disappear.

This morning, I tried to get up and be productive but my head was too messed up to write or even clean. So I turned on the TV in my room (I have one now thanks to El Jefe’s generosity ♥) and I watched infomercials and drifted in and out of semi-consciousness.

Where the dreams continued. Gee thanks. I love being messed with all day by my vivid and very mean subconcious.

Anyway, I’m going to do my best to make it all go away by listening to music that makes me happy. I heard this song on the radio this morning, it almost pepped me up… 🙂 I think this needs to be everybody’s theme song.

Settlin’ by Sugarland

I ain’t settling for just getting by
I’ve had enough so so for the rest of my life
Tired of shooting too low, so raise the bar high
Just enough ain’t enough this time
I ain’t settling for anything less than everything

I think your co-pilot needs to be your driver…

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Internetz, yesterday y’all nearly had to bail me out of jail.

I’m not even kidding.

So, I was minding my own business, obeying all the rules of the road, when this bitch woman blew through a yield and nearly slammed into me. I was upset, but these things happen…

Until that bitch woman rolled her window down and began to cuss me up one side and down the other.

Bitch! Woman please.

After she finished her first tirade I said “You might wanna rethink talking to me like that before I step out of the car and reacquaint you with the rules of the road. Or road rash.”

She called me a few very unflattering names, the least offensive being bitch. The worst rhyming with punt.

And that’s when I lost my cool.

“Are you familiar with the phrase Towanda? If so, then you might wanna get the fuck out of my way. The sooner, the better.”

As she drove off, I saw this bumper sticker:

Are you kidding me?

Sister, please. I will feed on the irony of this moment forever.

  1. If Jesus is your co-pilot, he needs to reteach you the rules of driving.
  2. He might be better off just being your driver, Miss Daisy.
  3. He might also wanna reaquaint you with the Golden Rule, because I’m pretty sure you missed that Sunday School lesson.
  4. Also, do you pray with that mouth? Now I’m not saint. I’ve never ever pretended to be. But I also don’t have a bumper sticker on my car portraying me as such.

I believe in Karma and bitch woman, you got yours coming to you…