Everyone has ONE good puke story…

September 22, 2010 at 4:38 pm (Humor, Random) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Okay…maybe it’s just me…but here it is for the entire Blogosphere to read!

So I have these gay neighbors. Totally skyrocketed the house values on my block when they moved in. SERIOUSLY! I adore them. We get invited to their two biggest parties every year: The Summer Party and The Christmas Party. Oh the fun and mayhem that transpires at these parties. Where to begin?

First of all…the bar. They have a FULL BAR in the basement – our neighborhood is filled with homes from the 1920’s. Super adorable, oodles of charm and STEEP STAIRCASES! And yet…the bar? DOWNSTAIRS. I lovingly refer to our neighbors as “Gay-bors”…and in turn, they refer to us as the “Straight-bors”. Turn about is fair play, I suppose.

These parties are filled with screaming queens…and some very wealthy people, I might add. So much laughter and love and good times, I can’t even express all the things that happen, however there are a few firsts that have happened to me at these parties.

  1. I have been known to remove my bra. But I did it in that “stealth” way that us girls do, without actually taking off our shirts? yeah…if you’re a dude and you’re reading this? Next time you’re in a situation where a chick is comfortable enough with you to remove her bra without taking off her shirt? Ask her to do it. You’ll be amazed. Trust!
  2. My very first time getting drunk – at age 35 – was at the Gaybors Christmas party.
  3. Kissing other men. Yep – no safer a place to kiss another man than at a gay party. They don’t want me like that, but they like to lock lips with big chested women, so who am I to turn them down?
  4. I puked. BAD. But it was Donavon’s fault. So I blame him…and I’ll explain why.

So this Christmas Party was about 4-5 years ago. The cocktail of the evening was Vodka-Cran – uh Vodka with Cranberry Juice. I’m not naturally a drinker, so I think there’s another name for this too…if you know it…please enlighten my readers, will you? Thanks.

So Donavon asks me if I want something to drink. I’m all…SURE! He takes my hand and takes me to the basement and pours me a drink. Well, there’s a couple things you should know about the Gay’s when you attend their parties.

  1. They make a stiff drink.
  2. They are extremely generous.
  3. They make a stiff drink.
  4. They don’t like the sound of ice clinking in an empty glass.
  5. They make a stiff drink.
  6. They do not like it when your husband tells them after your fifth drink that we need to “cut her off” or “she’s had enough”. You will be enlightened with a level of bitchiness that even a woman does not possess. TRUTH!

So…we mingle, catch up with the many people who have become our friends at this point, because we make it to both of these parties every year and well…let’s face it…you have a set of straight white teeth and a large ample chest, and the gay men just want to be near you so they can kiss you, play with your hair and feel your boobs all night long. I’ve never met a more loving group of people. I’m sure it’s because Scott and Donavon are such awesome people and they attract the same in their friends, but seriously. For people we only get to see twice a year and perhaps a few visits and waves when they visit the Gaybors, we’ve never been invited to so many gatherings, or to vacation homes…it’s just awesome.

So about 5 drinks in, I made the mistake of letting the ice clink in the bottom of my glass while Donavon was right next to me. His ears perked up and he honed in on me like he was on a MISSION! We were in the basement, I believe at that point. Anyway…he’s all, “Honey…you need another drink.” And my husband said, “No, she’s good. We’re gonna get ready to go.”

All i remember is that I heard Donavon put my husband in his place – it went something like:

This is MY HOUSE! Don’t you tell ME when she’s had enough to drink! You just take your happy little cute ass upstairs and I’ll take care of mah GIRL!

Well then…he tried to take me away before Donavon could get me another glass full of VODKA, and the strangest thing happened. That glass seemed to float through the air and land in my hand as my husband had my other hand leading me up the stairs and he had his back to me…there were, I’d guess, about 15 stairs to climb. And here’s the scary part. The glass was empty by the time we got to the top. Yeah. I guzzled that shit.

So I sorta remember showing off about taking my bra off without actually taking my shirt off, then someone ran off with my bra. Then…I sorta remember sitting in one of their chairs in their formal living room. And then, I remember opening my eyes, after what I can only imagine that I had dozed off/passed out. Opened my eyes, opened my mouth, and PUKED all over the living room. A. LOT.

Some might be embarrassed. Not me. Let’s just say, if you gotta puke after drinking too much? Do it in a house full of gay men. Seriously. It makes them love you MORE! I wouldn’t say that I felt embarrassed so much as I felt bad that I puked all over their designer rugs and furniture. Someone was nice enough to hand me a towel…and there was a “clean up patrol” dispatched…I guess they expect this sort of thing to happen all the time! No less than a dozen people told me not to worry about it. Little did they know that I was so proud of myself.

Let me explain. I had never been drunk before. EVER. At age 35 this was the first time EVER. I was also on a medication that I wasn’t supposed to drink alcohol while on, but I had never been much of a drinker, so I completely forgot about that…I just felt so proud that I had finally experienced the fact that I had gotten drunk! It was a milestone!!!!

So the carpet came out clean as a whistle, needless to say that I gave those parties something to talk about for many years to come and I was outdone the very next year because someone tripped going UP their front stairs while they were drunk and bashed their head on the cement and the ambulance had to come. So…we bonded over that.

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Stingy Commenters – WTF?

September 17, 2010 at 3:38 pm (Entertainment, Humor, Random) (, , , , , , , , , )

Have you ever posted what you thought was the BE ALL and END ALL of AWESOME BLOG posts, only to have it up for a few days and realize that although you are getting traffic to your blog, you aren’t receiving any comments?

What gives, people? I mean, whenever I visit a Blogger’s writing, I always leave a comment. ALWAYS. In fact, there has never been a time that I didn’t either “like” a post or comment on it. NEVER.

Yet, here I sit…several views per day. Several blog posts submitted, yet only ONE comment, and I think it’s because I generated interest by leaving a comment on another bloggers post.

Some may feel that I’m whining. It’s not that at all…I know several others get discouraged when there isn’t traffic or proof of traffic on their blogs.

So do you realize what your comments mean to those of us who participate and want to belong to a BLOG community? Here’s what I feel receiving comments does for a committed BLOGGER:

  • Validates their feelings/views
  • Opens their eyes to new perspectives
  • Confidence booster
  • Honest feedback from the general population
  • New Friendships
  • Exposure
  • Comic relief
  • many many more…

So you see…it’s not just to toot ones horn, but it gives a sense of community when you are generous with your comments. You never know…maybe the next time you leave a comment on someone’s blog – they will turn into a lifelong friend. How many opportunities have you missed by reading but not commenting?

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Paul Deen – you SWEET THANG!!!

September 17, 2010 at 10:28 am (Cooking, Entertainment, Food, Humor, Random, Recipes) (, , , , , , , , )

Lemony Deliciousness

LEMON BLOSSOMS!!! These are so good and wonderful for summer, I wanted you ALL to try them! People BEG me to make these! They take a while to make and I’ll give you a few helpful hints because I make these all the time and have *perfected* it to an extent.

Helpful Hint #1: Buy two mini muffin tins. If you only have one, this could cause you to be in the kitchen FOR. EVER.

Helpful Hint #2: Spray the muffin tins with Pam before you put the batter in the cups for EVERY BATCH. The tops of the muffins come off easily, which is cool, because it gives you something to munch on, but let’s face it…you might get sick of them and that wouldn’t be any fun. (Oh…and loosen the cupcakes a little by running a knife around the diameter of the cupcake tin. You want as clean a removal as possible so they are pretty!!!)

Helpful Hint#3: DOUBLE THE RECIPE! You are going to go through these VERY quickly. They are “poppable” and you will eat like 3-4 at a time…so be sure you make a double batch. All the effort with the baking and glazing is too much for the amount of time it takes to gobble them up.

Helpful Hint #4: Be sure you store them in an airtight container ONLY AFTER they have cooled completely!!!! They get sweaty and that’s just not cute.

Paula Deen’s LEMON BLOSSOMS – Eat up, Ya’ll!

  • 18 1/2-ounce package yellow cake mix
  • 3 1/2-ounce package instant lemon pudding mix
  • 4 large eggs
  • 3/4 cup vegetable oil

Glaze:

  • 4 cups confectioners’ sugar
  • 1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
  • 1 lemon, zested
  • 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 3 tablespoons water

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Spray miniature muffin tins with vegetable oil cooking spray. Combine the cake mix, pudding mix, eggs and oil and blend well with an electric mixer until smooth, about 2 minutes. Pour a small amount of batter, filling each muffin tin half way. Bake for 12 minutes. Turn out onto a tea towel

To make the glaze, sift the sugar into a mixing bowl. Add the lemon juice, zest, oil, and 3 tablespoons water. Mix with a spoon until smooth.

With fingers, dip the cupcakes into the glaze while they’re still warm, covering as much of the cake as possible, or spoon the glaze over the warm cupcakes, turning them to completely coat. Place on wire racks with waxed paper underneath to catch any drips.(Carm’s note: they drip like crazy especially since you’ll be dunking them in the glaze while they are HOT…) Let the glaze set thoroughly, about 1 hour, before storing in containers with tight-fitting lids.

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I’m the SPECK!

September 17, 2010 at 10:18 am (Entertainment, Humor, Kids, Random) (, , , )

Hi, I'm Carm...I live on a Speck.

I’m the speck…

I get on those kicks of “insignificance” sometimes. Like…are you ever driving down the road and get this overwhelming sense that your presence and existence is just such a small part of what goes on that it’s almost insignificant?

Compared to the planet or even the UNIVERSE – you are really this small speck of sand and how DARE you get so caught up in your own drama’s and life when there is a world out there deteriorating before your very eyes or countries of starving people out there or someone who has a husband and two children and a house and a dog and two cars and they just learned that one of their children is really really terminally sick and here you sit…behind the wheel, stressing because your kids didn’t do the damn dishes last night! Makes me feel really full of myself and quite frankly DUMB for even thinking that I have ANYTHING to worry about.

Am I alone here?  Could I be the only one who gets so caught up in my life’s goings on that I get lost – forgetting about what really matters? Do you think you could ever be as observant as Horton? After all- he noticed a speck on a clover and saved Whoville from certain DOOM! Have you noticed a Whoville lately?

I love you…I really do…you can ask anyone! ~ Carm


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My Friend Wish-List

September 17, 2010 at 10:09 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

So my all-time wish is to be Will Smith’s friend. Please understand..it’s not because he’s “hot” (thanks Paris for that little slang term)…it not because he is, as we call it in our house “L-O-D-I-D”. I’m not in it for the fortune or fame…I just think he is a COOL DUDE!  Look at him…he’s all “Wassup Carm-dogg?!?” I’m all, “SUP WILL SMIFFFF!!!” He loves his wife, he’s silly like me and he can DUMB-DANCE like a MO-FO!

Oh, I’m not done…my list goes on…

Oprah. She would enrich my life. She’s a lovely woman who I could just really feel that I could make laugh. I don’t know…I think she’d get a kick out of me. Does that sound conceited? I hope not.

The Obama’s. I want to be their friend. I know – that is too much to ask. WAAAY too much. I just get so warm and fuzzy when I see them that I just want more – not in a stalker kind of way…in an, “I want them to come over for dinner once-a-month” kind of way. Wow…look that them. She’s waving at me, I think.

Vince Gill. The dude is a teddy bear and I love him. He’s got one of the most beautiful voices of all time and can play the guitar like nobody’s business. I’d love to sing harmony with him. While I’m at it, his wife, Amy Grant and I could go shopping a few times a month and just chit-chat about silly things. I think that would be awesome.

Alisson Krauss. I want to sing with her. I have a decent singing voice and had I not fallen for my high-school love and gotten hitched at the ripe old age of 19 I would have persued a singing career. I would love her to invite me to a recording session and watch the silliness unfold and close my eyes and listen to her sweet, sweet voice as it fills me with pure joy. Pretty thing that she is!

Simon Cowell. I think he’s not as bad as they say he is and I would enjoy being with him without all the cameras around to see what he’s really like. Look at that smile…he can’t be all bad, right?!?! hehehe

Africa. I want Africa to be my friend. It’s true. Is that even possible? Whenever I hear of my friends going on missionary trips to Africa…I get all goosebumpy and immediately start to tear up. Perhaps if Oprah decides that she would be my friend, she’d let me work at her school. I would enjoy that. There is something to be said for a culture who looks so happy when they have so little. I may never want to come back if I ever get a chance to visit there. Look at those faces. I could just smooch them all over!!!

Michael Buble. His voice melts me. It’s got nothing to do with his boyish charm or anything…I just wanna hang with him. It’d be awesome to sing with him as well. He just oozes coolness and I suppose that I just want some of that to brush off on me.

I think he’s laughing at a joke I just told him…he’s all, “Carm…that was a HORRIBLE joke!”…I’m all, “I know, Mike…just thought it would make a good reaction shot…”

Ashton & Demi – look at em. I wanna be their friend! Who’dda thunk it? Not me! Probably not them, but I’m oooooh so happy for them! And I think Demi just took a picture of me! Hey Ashton – You guys are cute! No, that’s okay…I’ll stay over here! Catch’ya later!

That’s it for now – it took me forever to post all those pictures…it’s almost dinnertime!! LOL I love you – I really do…you can ask ANYONE! ~ Carm

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Whatsferdeeeeener?

September 14, 2010 at 2:57 pm (Entertainment, Humor, Kids, Random, Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

So, I’m fairly good at making sure we eat at a reasonable hour, however there are times when I am not at all inspired or even hungry enough to figure out what to make for dinner.

On nights like these, I find that I like to tell the kiddos to “make a sandwich” or “make a salad” or (to the 14 year old) “Make a boxed noodle dinner”. Most of the time, I find I feel this way after an especially stressful day. Hell, sometimes I can’t even put forth the effort it takes to say the words, “go get in the shower, child”.

So this brings me to last night. My wonderful husband of 19 years was sitting on the couch last night after I returned with “The Volleyball Star’s” new V’ball spandex shorts that we had to specially buy or she wasn’t going to get to play, never mind the fact that she HAS some, they just aren’t made out of ENTIRELY spandex, but you almost have to TOUCH THEM to see they aren’t the shinier material and I had to spend ANOTHER $25 on this little fun extracurricular activity…*gasping for air*…but I digress…

He’s sitting there, reading his most current Esquire Magazine. We walk in, he looks up,  we express our success to him and 14 year old V’ball star hits the stairs to put her stuff away and I plop down in a chair as Mr. gets back to his magazine. I sit there. Staring at him. For an uncomfortable amount of time. He never once looks in my direction even though he was facing me and probably could COMPLETELY see that I was looking at him…he pretty much ignored me.

It’s that typical thing that us chicks fall for…we get pissy because we’re sitting there and want to talk, and we can’t BELIEVE that they can’t READ OUR MIND and notice that we have that look on our face like we have something to say. HOW DARE THEM!!!!!

So I sit there…and after about 5 minutes – which seemed like it was about 48 minutes, I got up and was all “Well….*that* was nice.” Under my breath of course…………………..

I march into the kitchen, get even MORE flabbergasted by the lack of inspiration that filled our cupboards and decided that I was gonna plop myself down and CHILL OUT.

An hour passes – which by the way, puts us at about 7:45pm – I thought my window had passed and I was going to make it off SCOTT FREE. I was getting sorta excited about just sitting there the rest of the night when Mr. walks in and was all….”So…you want some chicken-salad for dinner?” (Chicken-salad = strips of chicken cooked in Good Seasons Italian Dressing until nice and brown and tossed onto a bed of lettuce or baby spinach leaves and decked out however you like to deck a salad out…)

  • I said, “If that’s what you want then you can have it.”
  • He said, “I’ll be happy to cut up the chicken.”
  • I said, “Uh…so…I guess that means I’m going to be cooking dinner then, eh?”
  • He said, “If you don’t mind.”

Only on the inside I was thinking, “DAMMIT TO HELL!!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!” and “WHY CAN’T YOU FREAKING DO THIS CRAP YOURSELF?!?!”

And then I checked my attitude, because you know why? Because when I started cooking that shizz? IT SMELLED AWESOMESAUCE, that’s why!!!! And I wanted some after all that hissy fit I just threw!

So that’s why I think he loves me. Because sometimes…not always…but SOME. TIMES. I do stuff I don’t wanna do just to make sure he’s taken care of. And THAT is why, when we got married at 19 years of age, we are STILL married today – because I will cook for him and he does the laundry, dishes and ALL the yardwork for me….

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The Shadow of 9/11

September 13, 2010 at 11:44 am (Politics, Random, Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , )

It’s been 9 years. Here we sit. A country divided. People so fast to point a finger. So quick to judge. So easy to blame.

When you were sitting there…listening or watching the coverage of 09/11/01 did you feel divided that day? Did you feel the overwhelming sense to derogatorily bash your friend or loved one for their political beliefs? Did you hate your President? Did you pass judgment on someone based on their skin color or religion?

I remember that day, as do many of you. A hole formed in my chest. My cheeks were wet with fallen tears that had shed almost all day and many days afterward. The sirens and images from the coverage on the news filled my dreams for months. The hoping and praying and love that I felt that day, that this event would be isolated. The fragility that I felt – I needed to be with my newborn and my 5 year old that day. To hold them. To explain to my little daughter what was happening so that she understood, as much as a 5 year old can. I remember being uncertain. I remember being terrified that I live in a State that has ALL branches of the military with their bases here. I remember thinking…”Is there more to come? Have we seen the end of this terror?”

What has happened to us? I read a blog post from a friend of mine: http://larissalytwyn.pnn.com/articles/show/61615-remembering-9-11 – she made me remember and perhaps realize what happened that day.

I remember how united our country was after 9/11. Do you? Remember looking at someone and rushing your step to open the door for them? Do you remember saying “Thank you” to a stranger? Do you remember that vigil you attended with candles lit, asking for God’s Grace to get our beloved country through this horrible tragedy? Do you remember having a new found love for our firemen and police officers? Do you remember the silence of the airspace when our President ordered the entire U.S. is a No-Fly Zone?

Now, I ask you to take those memories. Apply them to how you feel today. Are you reflecting that feeling of unity that we had on those days and weeks and months following 9/11, or are you letting the terrorists win?

Those towers are not standing anymore…but there’s still a shadow…it’s up to you to shine your light…if you can find it.

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Honorary Jew Status

September 8, 2010 at 2:32 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , )

About a year ago, I was bestowed a great honor by one of my most potty-mouthiest of friends. It’s been about a year so I guess you could call it my “Jewversary”. She couldn’t find all the pieces at her local (Silver Spring, Maryland) Home Depot, for her Sukkah(*see below) project. On my birthday, I decided to hook her up because – as it turns out – I am a previous hardware store worker and knew EXACTLY everything she needed to complete her project! Anyway – Hannah decided to get out her golden menorah and bestow on me the most wonderfully unofficial title I’ve ever carried: Honorary Jew.

There are a lot of questions I had when I was first given this status – many of them I needed to ask about, some of which I drew the line on, and some – I found out – I already possessed! Here’s what being an “Honorary Jew” means to me:

  • First of all I had to make it CLEAR to Hannah that I would not – under ANY circumstances – alter my diet WHATSOEVER! I mean…a life without pork? SERIOUSLY? You might as well kill me NOW! Have you TASTED BACON??????? I rest my case!
  • I will participate in the Hanukkah celebration…let’s face it…any chance to get more gifts is A-OK in my book. And if you can do it by CANDLE-LIGHT? Uh – yeah…NUFF SAID!
  • Then there’s the whole “Jew’s are good with money” thing. Even though I’m not OFFICIALLY Jewish…being an honorary Jew and lifting that kind of hope up to the Jew Gods is something I’m totally willing to do. I should really read up on this form of belief system…I’m hopelessly ignorant to it – feel free to educate me, that is, if you haven’t already gotten a Rabbi to completely burn your computer monitor because I’m blasphemous. I assure you, it’s not my intention…and BESIDES! Someone who ISN’T Jewish, helping out a REAL Jew with her Sukkah has GOT to count for something, right? I thought so too…
  • Jewish Guilt. Welp. NOW WE’RE TALKIN!!! I’ve got this DOWN! No problemo! In fact the amount of GUILT that I have all welled up and pushed into the furthest recesses of my inner core and subconscious could make me probably full blooded Jewish…probably.
  • That whole thing about Jews love the Jewelery…and own Jewelery stores. I think they might do that just because there aren’t a whole lot of English language words that contain the word “Jew” in them, so they practically HAD to take over that whole industry and quite frankly, who can blame them? Not me!

So there you have it. I know you’re probably jealous of me right now…and to be honest, if I were on the outside (you) looking in (me) I’d feel mighty left out too. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about that, because I’m an Honorary Jew…and you aren’t. Sucks to be you…

* Sukkah – It’s basically a little out-building that the Jew’s spend time in eating, praying and loving. (No, it’s not based loosely on the current popular novel or the movie starring Julia Roberts. Yeesh…c’mon people!) Here’s what Wikipedia says about “Sukkah” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sukkah

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Calling all Parents With a Sense of Humor

September 8, 2010 at 11:57 am (Entertainment) (, , , , , , )

For those of you coveting the ever-elusive “Manual to Teenagers”, I implore you to relinquish your firm tight grasp and share it with the world – but me first! Quit hogging it. Seriously!

Here’s the scoop in about 500 words or less:

As the loving mother of a well-adjusted 14 year old daughter who excels at most anything the puts her mind to, and yes, her High School Career just started and she’s beginning Honors classes to join the International Baccalaureate program that is offered to Junior’s and Senior’s. ~Excuse the momentary lapse of judgment with the bragging – I don’t do it very often, and what better place to do it than my very own BLOG?!?!?~We have a few things I’d like to get under control before her leash get’s extended to the breaking point and she runs for the quickest Greyhound Station. (Are there even any greyhound stations out there anymore?)

Here’s a laundry list of items that I need clarified:

  • eyerolling
  • texting/cell phones
  • extracurricular activities
  • trips to the mall
  • babysitting money – how much to save, how much to allow them to spend.
  • BOYS
  • Makeup
  • Punishments
  • the Internet – to Facebook? or NOT to Facebook…that is the question.
  • that pissy scrinchy look that seems to always be on their face – seriosuly – where does that look COME FROM?!?!?!

Here’s my school of thought…and before I get into this, I should let you know that she is attending her father’s and my Alma Mater…yes, she is attending our old high school. We met there and consequently became married not long after I graduated. And believe me, I’ve scoped the place out for any spies that may be left roaming the halls after 20 years…but narry a one has lasted this long. Yeah, yeah…I’m THAT old. I know…

Back to my “school” of thought – I’m a firm, intellectual parent. I know when the BS-ing starts…and I can tell when I’m NOT being BS-ed. I also believe that the busier you keep the kids, the less energy they have to focus on activities that are not becoming of an honor student. So, here’s what we’ve got her involved in: Volleyball, Choir, Leadership, possibly Cheerleading, and some very very challenging courses so that she can get some college credit under her belt when she graduates – with the ultimate goal of becoming an RN. HER GOAL. We’re very encouraging of both of our girls when they talk to us about their aspirations for the future. So we’re open to whatever they choose. However, once they have chosen something to put their efforts into, we are sure to encourage them and constantly drive them to be the best and keep their goals in the forefront of their minds.

So if you can offer up some advice on the list of bullet points that would be SPECTACULAR. Or just give me your take on this whole Teenager thing…because seriously…I need some help. I’m gonna lose it.

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Do NOT attempt to play Volleyball IF:

September 7, 2010 at 3:00 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

This Labor Day weekend, we joined our newly married cousin and her new husbands family for a potluck picnic. The cool part? She married into a Samoan family and I have never met a more loving more welcoming family in my life! Not just a few of them…but THE WHOLE DANG FAMILY! So awesome – and I realized that I was probably Samoan in one of my previous lives because; A.) They love meat/I love meat. B.) They love to EAT..A LOT/I love to eat – A LOT! C.) They are musical and fun-loving people……and yep……you guessed it/I AM THE SAME WAY! YAY!

So – one of the first things we did was play Volleyball. Let me just recap to you my body image…I’m NOT a fit person. I have lots o’ junk in my trunk. Sooooo…this means that I don’t really get up and MOVE a whole helluva lot. And well, this past Sunday was an exception. I sorta forgot about an old Relay for Life Car Wash Injury I sustained about 8-9 years ago…and it decided to rear it’s ugly head yesterday – after I slept on it all weird.

So here’s my list. Do not attempt to play Volleyball if:

  1. You are wearing JEANS. Tummy pinching jeans. Bleh
  2. You have fake nails. Cute nails + bump + set + spike = OUCH and MANICURE DO-OVER!
  3. Thinking you can get away with sliding  your eyeglasses down the opening of your cute tank top. They fall out + they can cause issues if you have fake BOOBS, what with all the jumping and all that you’ll be doing. Plus: I may or may NOT have stepped on them in the sand…
  4. If you are almost 40 and have led a fairly sedentary life, do us all a favor – stretch a little. Seriously.
  5. Any arm, shoulder, elbow or wrist injuries you may have forgotten about will come back to haunt you the next day.
  6. You do NOT have ice packs and/or heating pads in your house.
  7. You do NOT have a stockpile of ibuprofen.
  8. Just because you ACT like you’re 20 and your CHRONOLOGICAL age is pushing 40…doesn’t mean your BODY will heal like a 20 year old. Stop kidding yourself…you’re almost 40…knock it off.
  9. You have an affinity to using the F-bomb when you’re surrounded by bible thumping Christians. (Side note: I love Jesus as much as the next guy…but let’s face it…if God didn’t want us to use that word, then we wouldn’t be.)
  10. When playing Volleyball in the sand, make sure you know that the V-ball pits have been raked a little over the summer…slivers are NOT FUN!

And there you have it. Thank GOD my chair lowers so that I can rest my arms on the desk and not have to lift them to type! WHEW!!!!!!

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