Happy Whatever

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Now that we have that out of the way, let's get down to what most of you have been waiting for. Christmas traditions. In an effort to get over my Scrooge tendencies I have been trying to come up with some REALLY worthwhile traditions. Here is the one we're starting with tomorrow. The Mystery Science Theater 3000 version of Santa Claus. It may be my new favorite thing about the holidays. If you're having a hard time scrounging up some holiday spirit-here is your fix. Trust me on this one.

A Letter

Dear Internet,

     I missed you. Terribly. You have turned me into one of those losers that can't function without their computer for even a day. I hate you for that but please don't hold it against me because I love you sooo much. Please don't say anything to my husband about our realtionship and I will promise to never abandon you again. Kisses.

                                   Love,

                                         Me 

    

Rob Zombie - Scum of the earth

Went looking for a different Rob zombie song and happened upon this. It's a Halloween miracle. Best mash-up EVER! I almost never share YouTube crap but there was no way I could keep this one to myself. Seriously. How have I not watched this until now? What a waste of 4 years. If we all watched this every morning, the world would be a better place. And if you don't like Zim or Rob Zombie-you need to tweak your meds a bit. Just sayin'.

Thanks are in order

Last week, I got a little tired of the same ol' same ol' on the 80's XM channel and had to switch to the ALL 90'S ALL THE TIME! channel. As a result, not only am I still "dope on the floor and magic on the mike" but also still know where to chime in with "Donny D's on the backup. So put the crack up!". Thank you MC Hammer and Marky Mark for keeping that space in my brain occupied. It's not like I needed it.

Oh ye of little faith

Dear Jeff,
     Please accept apologies for my lack of faith in your ability to close the deal today. I lost sight of your history making awsomeness and changed the channel to Return of the Jedi. For that I am sorry. But, to borrow from Mrs. Bennet, "have you no consideration for my nerves?". If you can't keep yourself out of situations that make me feel near to stroking out every weekend, you must accept some of the blame yourself. I will celebrate your victory after my heart palpitations subside a little.

                                          Sincerely,
                                                    Shauna

Cheese is good.

     It's September people. If you shake your head and ask me where the year has gone I will have to hurt you. I hope you got all your summer fun in 'cause it's in the bag. Done. Finito. Time to make your list and check it twice.  Numero uno on your list should read:  #1-watch movie recommended by Shauna. She is cool and wouldn't steer me wrong and is worthy of my adoration.

I'm proud of you for trying to live your life right. As it happens I just watched(again) the perfect choice for you and the kiddies to usher your summer out right.   

     It's a little cheese oozing gem called Roller Boogie. Straight outta 1979 for your viewing pleasure.  If you like short shorts, tight tops, roller skating, bad hair and Dick Van Patten's son yelling "Let's get the goons with the fruit!" then you have to watch this. Even if you don't like those things, watch it anyway. Seriously cheesetastic. Heavy on the cheese. I hate to use that overdone phrase but in this case I just can't help myself. It stars an all grown up Linda Blair and a guy named Jim Bray who, once you get a load of his chompers you will realize that he is aptly named. I know that sounds mean but, bray indeed. After that you will start to wonder if he isn't a little um, handicapped due to his slow delivery until you look him up and find out he was a national champion in competitive roller skate dancing or something(oh seventies! you silly. What were you thinking?) and should just get points for trying. 

     Trust me. From the opening credits with a guy and girl making out on a garbage dumpster to the mean Saturday Night Fever suited developer and Sgt. Danner whose blue short shorts, blue cap and white t-shirt with LAPD ironed over the pocket let you know he's a REAL cop, Roller Boogie will grab you by the shirt front and make you laugh until you pee. How can you go wrong with a pudgy wristed flute prodigy that really just wants to win the roller boogie contest, her busty friend nicknamed 'Twin Peaks", an emotional solo roller dance to cheer up the drunken roller rink owner, more sweet leotards than you can shake a stick at-with nary a bra in sight and lines like "So I'm a musical prodigy! Whatta drag! Whatta bummer!" how can you go wrong?  You can't. So get everybody together and just watch it. Your children will love you and your In-laws will hate you a little less for it.   

Whew!

Was listening to the ALL 80'S ALL THE TIME! channel on the way home from the grocey store today. I was vastly relieved to discover that I still know all of the words to Should've Known Better by Richard Marx. I have to admit to more than a few sleepless nights spent in the worry that all of the Richard Marx related information in my brain had been starting to fade. Not getting any younger you know. But, whew! What a relief! 

The Beginning of the End

Dude. August. Countdown to the start of school or end of summer. Same thing. Once you start to worry about school supplies, you may as well kiss your days of freedom goodbye my friend. In keeping with that theme, I have compiled your Complete Playlist to Usher in the Last Days of Summer/Start of School. Trust me. This will make all those end of Summer activities even sweeter and that school prep less onerous.

1. Metallica-Fuel

Because you can't start anything properly unless you have ROCKED! What are you thinking?

2.Rupert Holmes-The Pina Colada Song

Cheesy? Yes. Summery and Irresistible? Hell Yes. So, get off your high horse and listen to it and go drink a Pina Colada .

3. Amy Winehouse-Rehab

Nobody should die that young and it's a great song and well, you wish she woulda gone until it stuck.

4. Beastie Boys-Make Some Noise

It's the Beastie Boys. Duh. And this song would make the Pope feel the need to get funky.

5. Wham-Freedom

Try not giggle when George Michael sings "Girl all I want right now is you". I don't think so. Unless he wants some bail money and a ride to his boyfriend's house.

6. Eric Clapton-I've got a Rock N Roll Heart

You've got to cleanse your palate with something and Hello?!? it's Clapton.

7.Rob Zombie-What

Prove you've got a rock n roll heart in the weirdest way possible.

8. Chris Isaak-Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing

Just hearing him say it once will convince you that you still have time to squeeze in a bad thing or two before it's all said and done.

9.Zac Brown Band-Free

Take a breather(preferably in a hammock or the like) and let the violins and Zac Brown's mellow vocals in this one get you ready for the next volley.

10. Pit Bull-Shake Senora

Yeah. He's a little dirty. But if you can hear "move that ___ like chitty chitty bang bang" and not shake your moneymaker, you're probably dead. Or my mother.

11. Jackyl-The Lumberjack

I know. Another blast from the past but I have one thing to say. Chainsaw baby. 'Nuff said.

12. Adele-Rumour Has It

Yes. I spelled it right. She's British, dummy. Also the best song off of one of the best albums of the year. You'll hand clap your way through all of those dressing rooms with the kids.

13. Enrique Iglesias-Dirty Dancer

I don't care how old you are. This song will make you realize two things. 1-anyone can be a dirty dancer if they listen to the right song and 2-yum.

14. LMFAO-Party Rock Anthem

If this one doesn't make you shake your groove thing until it falls off, well, you need to just take your toys and go home. Now.

15. Foo Fighters-Rope

Go out the ONLY way there is to go. Air guitar and yelling "Yeow" at the top of your lungs along with Dave Grohl. 

Now don't you feel better? All I can say now is, Rinse and Repeat.  



Another good one

In the interest of full disclosure I must admit to finishing another terrible novel. Stayed up intil 1 a.m. to do it too. Then couldn't get to sleep due to the deep well of shame and horror in which I was dwelling at that point. This addiction stuff is hard on a person. A few fun facts to add to my store of knowledge:

1.In 19th century England they only used the word chit to describe any female between the ages of 8-60. Numbers don't lie.  22 times in one book. Twice in one paragraph.

2. Any man not completely besotted with his wife had the morals of a really perverted, very slutty alley cat.

3.If a man doesn't turn pale, shake and become tongue-tied when he sees you, you're hideous. Accept it and move on.

4. If you do find yourself in the aforementioned state of absolute hideousness, all you need to change it is a new dress that shows more cleavage and some new underwear.

5. The only men worth having are the severely damaged ones you have to fix. The rest are really boring or mean mean mean.

6. All pretty girls have horrible personalities AND slightly less moral fiber than the man mentioned in #2.   

7. Fear not; no matter how reprehensible your behavior, true love will save you.

8. Poor people have more WAY more pride than rich people.

9. If you were an even remotely attractive lady in the 19th century, you had been kidnapped at least twice by your 21st birthday and could plan on being propositioned 4-5 times a day. 

10. Aproximately 95% of English aristocrats were very concerned with the welfare of their servants and treated them like family. Even to the point of giving them money for no good reason.

   

Lessons

Now that I am starting to recover from the spiral of shame my earlier confession brought on, I have been wondering if I should be taking a different approach to my little "problem".  Find the silver lining as it were. If I could find something worthwhile to be gleaned from these so called "books" then my compulsion could just be looked on as another way to keep my brain from aging. You know what they say-Never stop learning! To this end I have been reflecting on the book to which I alluded a few days ago.  A few things I learned from  To Tempt a Texan:

1.Yelling "calf-rope" means surrender to a Texan. I know I got this one right because it was mentioned at least 75 times. Also something Texans NEVER do. Ever.

2. The only way any respectable woman makes any reference to booze is by calling it demon rum and repeating the phrase "lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine".

3. Apparently, you can take the gal out of Texas but you can't take Texas out of the gal.

4. If you're clever, the only possible name for a cook on a ranch is Cookie.

5. You can get a man to do absolutely ANYTHING if you withhold sex and/or the possibility of seeing cleavage when they drink beer. I wish somebody had told me this one 15 years ago.

6. All prostitutes in the Old West were really just nice girls with hearts of gold that bathe all the time and don't like dirty cowboys.

7. It isn't possible to use the word loco too many times when writing dialogue. This will come in handy if I ever write my own novel.

8.  The only prostitute in the Old West that didn't have a heart of gold was dirty and constantly walked around in a soiled wrapper.

9. All saloon owners really are just well behaved gentlemen that secretly yearn to be artists.

10. All librarians are unattractive old maids that do nothing but fantasize about being seduced by handsome rogues.

11. If you are a proper lady and you wish to convey your displeasure with something, the only option to you would be to say, "outrageous!" or "disgusting!'. All. The. Time.

12. You can tell if someone is speaking English as a second language because they will always say "yes?" at the end of every sentence.

13. Texans are stubborn. It bears repeating. Over and over and over... and over and over again. 

My 12 steps

Hello. Feels good to finally be here. I'm Shauna and I am a compulsive book finisher. Thank you. I realized this week that it is time to admit I have a problem. I hit bottom this week reading a bathtub book. Sorry. I'll back up. FYI, when I am feeling too creaky I spend a decent amount of time in the bath. This can get very boring so I go to the D.I. or whatever and get cheap books to read. The rules on bathtub books are as follows : 1-They must be cheap.  2-They must be light enough to allow me to hold them for long periods of time.  3-They must(most importantly) be the kind of book that I can drop in the water and just move onto the next one in the pile without too much concern. I try to avoid the seriously bad ones like Harlequins and the like but will admit to reading some that are so bad they make me laugh. It was this week that I realized I have allowed this habit to go too far. This particular bathtub book was not laughably bad, just bad. I started it in the bath one night but found that I had this compulsion to finish it the next day. Now with a book that size it should have been a few hours at most. It took me 2 more days to laboriously work through it. This is when I realized I had really hit bottom. If I couldn't stop myself from finishing this piece of drivel then what was next? Harlequins with titles like The Sheik's Virgin Bride? Where would I allow myself to go from there? Inspirational romances? Self-help books? Joyce Carol Oates? Or, heaven help me, Oprah's Book Club? Shudder. So here I am to confess and ask for your help in working my way through some of the 12 steps to Walking Away from Bad Literature.

Just had a huge temper tantrum at the boys and threw all of their school crap in their room. Now I know why 2 year olds do it. It felt good! As I tell you this, I am aware that this is not something you should tell emotionally mature, adult type people. But, since I am little more than a giant toddler myself and regressing further each year, I'm fine with this confession. I still haven't decided whether or not I will run in, wildly hit them and go hide under the bed. 

Best Day Ever!

Today has been a pretty typical day for me. I woke up feeling kinda sloshy in my head so I took a decongestant. Except I took a decogestant without realizing it had diphenhydramine in it. Who knew. If you know me, you know that I can't take diphenhydramine if I want to be coherent at all. So-instead of vacuuming the living room and going to Emily's for a nice little visit, I ended up passed out on the couch. I was so out of it that my sister called the house and I didn't even know it. Anyway, to make a long story short(too late!) I was a little spaced when I took the dog out to potty. I was waiting for her to do her business, just looking around-when I look down to see what is taking so long. And discover that the dog has sniffed out a flattened mouse that has probably been there for months because the whole back yard was still snowy and frozen over until this week when the nice warm temps turned it into a big lake. Said mouse is now in her mouth and she is happily chomping away. The only thing I could see was the tail hanging down. Yum. So there I am-looking around like someone is going to jump out of the bushes and offer to take care of this for me. When that doesn't happen I tell the dog to LEAVE IT! She is still a puppy and is not very good at leaving things alone. Especially something she really wants. She had been obsessively sniffing in this same spot since things started to melt so I'm thinking she REALLY wanted that mouse by now. I grab her jaw and make her drop it but she gets it back in her mouth before I can take it. We do this comedy routine 2 or 3 more times until I realize there is only one option open to me. I grab the tail that is hanging out and give it a yank. The only thing that happens is that my fingers slide right off. And, now they're covered in mud and 3 month old mouse slime. So I grab it more firmly and wrap the nasty tail around my fingers and pull as hard as I can. That worked. But now I'm standing in my muddy back yard holding a distinctly funky old flat mouse. I throw the dog in the dog run, muddy paws be darned; and make my way over to the trash can and chuck it in. The dog got an extra 15 minutes of outside time while I scrubbed my fingers with every soap in the house and debated with myself as to whether or not I should just cut off the tips of my fingers because I'll never be  able to eat with them again. Don't feel bad for the dog though. She got a nice little piece of skin to enjoy while I was in the house. I think we can put this one down in the best day ever journal.

I attended a funeral last Saturday and, of course, the inevitable discussions about death followed. With Emily as usual. Being as morbid as we are, we have talked about dying countless times so that was nothing unusual but it got me thinking. Yes, it did hurt. But only a little bit. I got to thinking about the interesting demands people make when they talk about their death. Yes, I said death. I have never liked tip-toeing around the idea by trying to use "nice" words. Death, in and of itself isn't nice, so there is no use in trying to gussy it up by saying passed away or any of that nonsense. Dead, kicked the bucket, bought the farm, bit the dust, ate it, whatever phrase you want to use is fine with me. It is what it is. Anyway, there are people that insist on being cremated. There are people that insist on NOT being cremated. They want to be buried next to their spouse or they can't stand the idea of being buried on top of or under someone. And then there is the funeral. They want this song or that song. Tell so-and-so they can't come. Make sure so-and-so is there. Don't have a viewing. Have a viewing. Make sure I'm in clean underwear. Make sure it's happy. Make sure it's sad. I've even done it myself. Here is the magic secret to all of it-You're dead! You don't know the difference! Whomever you've left behind that loves you or even just gave a crap, it's up to them. Whatever they need to make them feel like they have said a proper goodbye is what needs to happen. So, it turns out I don't care if they burn me or bury me. I don't care if they put cowboy boots and a bathrobe on me and prop me in the corner. Bury me naked so you can pawn my clothes. If they could get away with it, I'd tell them to bury me in the back yard because it's cheaper. Even though I must admit I still can't stand the thought of everyone (And by every one I mean the three people that let the guilt win and showed up) standing up and talking about me like I'm Mother Teresa instead of admitting I could be kind of bitchy, I hated people and I cursed at my kids and pretty much everyone else that cared to listen. But that rant can wait until another time.