Infinitely better cards. Promise.

If you have been to a scrapbook store with me more than once or twice, you can probably list a few of the paper lines I gravitate towards. If you had been paying close attention, you would possibly say that Graphic45 paper might be my favorite even though I'm not really a "that's my favorite!" kind of girl. You might even say I'm kind of a whore for this paper. I really will do just about anything to get my hands on it. Usually that just involves spending the grocery money but, make me an offer. I'll think about it. An argument could be made that the 2 of the 3 new lines that they just released might be partially to blame for why I didn't get more of those damnable thank you cards done. I kinda sorta might have stopped making them so I could make these. They're from the Olde Curiosity Shoppe line. If you go to their website to check it out; just don't look in their Gallery. If you see what other people are doing with this stuff you'll realize how lazy and boring I am. I think it might be against the law in some counties to only use a single solitary brad on a G45 card. Let's just keep that between us shall we? 

Turnabout is fair play

There is something wrong with me.

As soon as I started the mental list of all the people needing Thank You cards (at the least!) I immediately began the list of what I would need from the scrapbook store. Of course there was NOTHING already in the house that was acceptable. I'm not one of those sick paper hoarders that you read about in Psychology Today. Or one of those sad people you see buying pre-made ones in the store. These were important. Nothing but handmade would do. My goal was to get them done and out the door no later than 2 weeks after Suzie got out of the hospital. That was...a month and a half ago. Damn and double damn.

 I got off to a good start. I really did. I even went to the store with a specific design in mind, something I rarely do. I couldn't decide which paper I wanted so I bought a little bit of this and a little bit of that and; Tim if you're reading this, cover you're ears; spent way too much money buying more than I needed. And that's the beginning of the end my friends. I then added insult to injury by bringing it home, only making a few cards and switching to paper I already had. And making a huge mess in the bedroom that I stack every night when I'm done wrestling with the paper for the night. I really do have another screw loose somewhere. The mess is still there and this is all I've ended up with so far. AND since turnabout is fair play, I have uploaded all of them for some serious ridicule. I will tell you that there is only one card here that I completely like. There is also another card that was made with paper that made me sooo mad that I actually threw the rest of it away rather than recycle it or give it away. I may have even crumpled it up too before discarding it. 

 So, lemme have it with both barrels. I deserve it.   

Everybody Fest!

Tim and Dan took Turner and Gabrielle to the Festival of Colors at the Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork last weekend. Now that you know that, these are pretty much self-explanatory. Yes, they had a good time. No, I won't be going with them next year.

Dominance

Can I just tell you how nice it is to have the use of my right hand and arm back? Limited use, true, but I'll take it. If we're being completely truthful here, I had enough useful fingers to hunt and peck my way to a post yesterday but wasted all the use I had in my left ones by checking Pinterest before I came here. You heard correctly. I said left. I couldn't stand any more couch time by last night and switched the mouse to the left side. It worked but not as well as I'd hoped. I pretty much spent almost the whole time just right-clicking the shit out of everything and getting pissed off about it. It got me to thinking about a few of the other things that don't work well with anything but your dominant hand. In this case, my right. So, here's my top 5 list of things you shouldn't be doing with your left hand. (Unless you're already a lefty then just um, flip things around okay?)

Don't: 

 try to do your hair in a ponytail. You just end up pulling out more hair than you put in your scrunchy. Easier to leave it around your face in greasy clumps because you couldn't wash it properly either. I hear the hopeless drunk look is coming back in style anyway.

eat anything more complicated than yogurt. Unless you wear a bib. Or get your Mom to come over and feed you. You'll just end up with a lap(table, couch, floor) full of cheerios or whatever. Trust me, if you do manage to get something as fancy as a sandwich made, once you get it cut into manageable pieces it will look like you pre-chewed it to save time and you won't want to eat it anymore.

get bored and try to drive yourself to the dollar store. Sure, you'll manage fine with one hand until you get to the roundabout and then you're pretty much hosed. I'm sure the nice lady in the Toyota didn't plan on wetting herself out of fear when it looked unlikely you would pull off anything but landing yourself in the median. With her in your lap. I think if the city wanted those flowers taken out they would have planted them in the middle of the road dumb ass. 

brush your teeth. You might feel like you're doing at least some kind of good until you're in the oral surgeon's office explaining that no, you weren't really drunk. Just right handed.

skip the bra to make dressing simpler. The FedEx man at the door valiantly trying to keep his lunch down won't appreciate it and neither will you when you see the black eyes and bruised knees from every time you jumped up to get the phone. 



Silver Linings



In my haste to tie up all of my loose ends yesterday, I actually managed to get one of my holiday projects done BEFORE the holiday for which it was meant. Maybe every cloud really does have a silver lining. Especially this week because not only did I get them done in time for Easter but since it will be so warm tomorrow I will actually get them sprayed. Which is tantamount to a miracle in my world. The pics are a little different from the usual because I had Turner take them for me and she HAD to take them outside. "Mommy, outdoor light is THE best light to use. Trust me."  As usual, she is probably right. Even though I do confess to getting kind of glitter happy, they aren't quite as blinding in person. Our little Magpie was going for maximum sparkle here.



This is supposed to be hung on a door but shudder at the thought of how many times I will have to listen to it go bang bang bang against the door before Easter arrives so it will most likely end up on the wall. I still haven't ruled out the possibility of ribbon at the top. We'll see.




Obviously I wasn't planning on just lining these up end to end but you get the gist I think.

I threw in the picture I took just so you can see how boring I was going to be. I was going to crop the Wii games out. Promise.

Drugs=Bad

Here's the problem with writing a blog every day. Okay. Trying to sort of write everyday. Eventually you will succumb to the temptation to take yourself WAY too seriously and start writing posts about your prostate problems or manic depression or whatever. I see it on about every 3rd blog I come across.  Not that it's really temptation to which I feel myself succumbing but the inability to spit out anything but what's knocking around in my useless brain. Not kidding. After all of the song lyrics and random movie quotes I've got room for about 1 1/2  thoughts up there. I didn't blog last night because I have only had one thing on my mind since yesterday morning. I still can't stop thinking about it so here I am. Allowing myself to give in and become THAT person. Forgive me yet another sigh.

I have had a funky tooth that has been bothering me for months. I forced myself into the dentist office yesterday to get it checked out. Partly because the Hubs got irritated enough with me to push me into action and partly because it was bugging me sufficiently to go. Turns out the screws that have been in my jaw since my surgery 19 years ago are pushing on the roots of the teeth over which they sit due to the fact that my allergies have flared early and badly this year and are causing too much inflammation in my head. That's what I said too. What the hell is up with that shit right? Who else could come out of the dentist with something so lame? In an effort to get the inflammation down asap Dr. Ereckson sent me to the pharmacy for antibiotics. One of the 5 day packs so we get a lot of them in me quickly. And here's the real problem. If you've read this far then you know me well enough to know that I have an unusual form of arthritis. Unless you're just some random person that found this and has also made it this far. In that case just let me say that you're kind of a wierdo but, feel free to put on some pants and keep reading. Anyway, the last 2 times I was on antibiotics my joints went nuts. Not just the same ol' same ol' multiplied by 10 but the I can't even get my hands to cooperate enough to scratch my nose kind of nuts. Or the time before that, the I couldn't get off the couch in less than 45 minutes because my knees wouldn't let me kind of nuts. Don't know why. The docs were even scratching their heads. Needless to say this made me beyond wary of antibiotics. All I could think about as I swallowed the first 2 pills yesterday was, "WHAT are you doing????". All I could think today was, "no no no." Not that I really have a choice. What am I gonna do, not take it and start praying that those teeth don't get pushed clean out of my mouth? And now for the last 24 hours I have thought of nothing but when and where the hammer is going to fall. I feel like I swallowed a bomb with an indeterminate length of fuse. I've been running all over the house trying to tie up any loose ends just in case I'm out of commission for awhile. Like I'm dying or something. Not to be Captain Obvious or anything but I hate this feeling. I can't stand turning my body over to a chemical that gets to decide how I feel with absolutely no input from me. Tim would say I'm borrowing trouble but I can't help myself. It's all I can think of this week. Well, besides the Genie song from Aladdin of course. So; listen up Sparky, here's the deal. If tomorrow's post looks like this: Grrdgmjjsla;;aolmfnnuvt78n4433oof
then we'll know that I'm not very good at typing with my mouth. Where is Christy Brown when you need him? 

Wish you were here.

I just uploaded last weekends pics of our sojourn in southern Utah. We stayed in my sister's condo and tried as much as possible to get in the way of my niece Courtney and her husband Jared who were also staying there. I've posted the ones that I thought most likely to make you wish you were there. Like you didn't already.

This is what happens when you spend more than 4 hours with us. Either you fall asleep out of self preservation or become overly interested in your porn-star mustache and the contents of your computer. I had already noticed that Jared's computer wasn't even on but didn't have the heart to tell the little guy.

Since they were the first ones up on Saturday morning, Thomas and Suzie got to perform the family ritual of walking around the pool table 3 times with your mouth full of strawberry marshmallows to ward off evil spirits and Tom Cruise. 

We walked down to the Texaco to honor the age old tourist tradition of buying dusty cookies and overpriced sunglasses. Right after I took this we got kicked out because there is some sort of ordinance against making those kinds of faces on a Sunday. Live and learn.

Sam was feeling a little blue here due to the fact that he wouldn't stop speaking inappropriately to his drink so it had no choice but to give him a time out.

Apparently, I should have reminded Turner to go potty before we left and made sure Sam knew it's a more accepted practice to vomit into your drink when it's empty; not when it's 3/4 full.

This is what happens when you walk slower than your children. They either play in the sewer or just stand there and give you this look.

Take note-all it takes to perk Courtney up is an offer of free bacon.

Working together, these crazy kids managed to finish the word search on Suzie's kids menu. It took them until after we paid the check but we're still proud.

We took the long way home starting with a long-cut through Zions. As you can tell, all the kids were really happy to be leaving it behind.  

Another guest post

But not because I'm too lazy this time. This one is by Turner. But she begged me. Really.

Everybody in Draper is either a drug dealer or  always inappropriately dressed......When you ride the middle school bus with a bunch of city slickers, you really start to realize how absolutely horrible people are. People are self centered, naughty and extremely stuck up. Girls have absolutely no self respect (you can tell by what they wear and how much make-up they have on). That, or they have too much self respect. If my mom hadn't banned me from using a specific "W" word in this blog post, I would repeatedly type it right now. People are just really really really bad swear words. If you're not rich here, you are meaningless and a really big loser. Unless you wear 7 million layers of make-up and pretend to be stupid to make up for not having an enormous house or an iPhone, people won't even look at you. Apparently NASCAR fans are losers too. People have no idea what the world around them is like. They don't respect other people and they can't see past the veil of snobbish conceitedness that's in front of them. If you don't dress like that certain "W" word, you're not worth looking at or talking to. If you don't have a bunch of money or perfect skin, you're a target for bullies and "I'm so much better than you" looks. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. ( I had to do five "Blah"s so I would have an odd number. I almost did four "Blah"s but then I felt weird and had to add another). Anyway..... Why can't we just go live with Kasey Kahne in North Carolina and then I can go to my college? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I DID NOT beg to blog, but I seriously wanted to get away from my chores....and tell the world how HIDEOUSLY punchable most of these stuck up rich kids are. Notice how I said "most". If only I could use inappropriate words! I actually don't know how I  get by at Crescent View Middle School. I guess I ended up being smart enough (or pretty enough) for them because some people DO talk to me and some people DO want to be my friends. You have got to be quiet about this but some boys actually DO flirt with me. But I see behind everything they say and do. Nearly all of them are the same. About 3 or so of my friends at school actually understand and agree with what I am saying. Every other person that I've decided to tolerate has totally crumpled under the judgement of the "rulers" of the school. They don't understand that you should pace yourself when doing the pacer in gym. They think that if you sprint ahead on the first 5 laps across the gym before the beep then you are "as good" as everyone else. Then, they are totally confused as to why they get tired and have to quit so fast. On the first few laps across the gym, I reach the other side of the gym last. I always make it to the required line before the beep and get to the next line in perfect time too, even though I'm the last person to reach the line. It's not because I'm slow, I could sprint if I wanted to. Yet, I have reasons for not wanting to. All of those  girls just sprint as fast as they can, trying to show everybody up. Yet, those girls only get 20 or so on the pacer. Since I pace myself on the pacer, I can get the highest out of the girls. They are so confused as to why I can get 50 and they can't. Especially since they do dance and cheer and sports but I don't. They simply won't open their eyes and see that being better has way more to it than being first to the line. Most of the time, the first ones to the line are the first ones out. This is also how their lives go. They race to do every little thing to seem better than everyone else now. They buy the expensive clothes, flirt with all of the boys, etc. But they'll get out of this game called life faster than I will. They'll end up like they did when running the pacer: best for the first 3 times around but  worst after about 10 more.  I understand what is going on around me and understand how I'm going to reach my victory in the end. I've opened my eyes now and it's more than likely that these people won't open their eyes until it's too late because of how they are living now. I'm not bragging and I'm not saying that all of them are going to end up badly or as losers. I'm certainly not trying to say that I'm better than them either. I'm just saying that I'm different. I'm just making a point and trying to explain why being a "W" word or a stuck up jerk won't always help you like it does now.

THE END

Truculent Thursday

I know it should be Truculent Tuesday so the alliteration actually works but it's Thursday so...not a whole lot I can do there. The title was just meant to be a warning to any actually nice person that might stumble across this post anyway.

A few days ago I swore off looking at cards that have been posted online because of that whole hoppin' down the bunny trail to Hell thing I've got going on here. But...when I was wasting all of my blogging time on Pinterest yesterday, a pin led me to one of my favorite galleries to browse when the mill in my head is low on grist. Not the rumor one but the other one. The mill that turns out mean judgemental things to say about other people's hard work. Yes. You're right. That is the best kind of mill. Of course, being me, I wasn't going to resist just a little peek at a few things once I was there. That's when I came across a card that I'd seen a few weeks ago and was reminded of how terrible it was. I can't get it out of my head. Now, this wasn't one of those every color of the rainbow assembled in the dark kind of numbers that usually has me recoiling in horror. The execution of it was actually okay. It was the very carefully stamped and colored sentiment that made me wonder. It was a Valentine card. On the left side there was a toaster with a cute little bow on it saying, "I want you inside me". On the right side there was a piece of bread wearing a jaunty bow tie with the words, "that's hot" above it. Oh Ick. As Shelley said when I sent her the link to check it out, "Gross. What, is she handing those out around the neighborhood?". I'm pretty sure I'd call the police if my kid came home from school with one. I would assume it was made by the same person that you won't take camping because you can just tell they'll try to touch your pee-pee once you get out there. Seriously.  What kind of clueless person was so proud of this card that they put it in a gallery with a picture of themselves(with their family no less!) below it? Of course I'm sure it's just me being a perv and a jerk. As per usual. Maybe I'm the only person that saw that card and thought, "Huh. I never knew you could get stamp sets in a porn shop." instead of "how cute...silly toaster". And don't even get me started on the actual designer of said stamps. I'm wondering if they also have a special set for that odd neighbor that doesn't come out in the daylight and drives a windowless white van or for when you need to make a really nice card for one of your fellow sister wives asking if you can share her monkey love night with your husband. Just this once.

 

It's too late to blog properly due to the fact that I wasted the last hour and a half on Pinterest and Clients from Hell. How's that for follow through? Sigh. I'm going to bed now and dream of the day when I'm not such a slug. 

Bad Auntie

 I decided to finish this week off with a bang and post pictures again. Yes, that makes twice in one week. No, I wouldn't consider that a miracle. I won't be able to blog again until next week due to the fact that we are headed to St. George today. Don't cry. I know it's all you have to live for but it'll be okay. Cross my heart and hope to die. We got to babysit Annie's youngest 2 monkeys Ray and Taela. I love any chance I can get to play bad Auntie and feed them crap and let them do whatever they want. 

For some reason Ray found it very amusing that I would take a picture of him while he was laying down.

After I took this Taela had to check the camera and make sure I got a picture of her tongue hanging out.

Ray wanted to play the "naughty game", a.k.a. Office Jerk on Sam's Ipod.

Even though there were better pics, I had to include this one because I thought it was funny that I managed to catch her mid-hop even though I wasn't even ready.

On the way to feed the quack quacks.

When we got there I handed Ray a roll and said, "Rip this in little bits and throw it to the ducks." He then proceeded to rip off a little piece, push it through the railing and then chuck his whole roll over the top. Sam was nice enough to share some of his. But only one piece at a time.

The quack quacks. Just in case you weren't sure.

The card to end all cards

My sister sent me a card this week. I won't tell you which sister. I will tell you it's the one for whom I am most likely to be mistaken, is most likely to have birthday cake Oreos hidden in her paper rack AND the only one that gets the same magazine that I mocked in a post last month. She goes years, literally years refusing to design anything of her own and then I get this. I blame myself really. I feel I've failed her and all of my cropping sisters in how I've allowed them to follow me down this path to Scrapbook Hell.

I sure hope she washed her hands after cutting out those flowers. And dipped them in bleach. And then stabbed her scissors with the sword of Gryffindor just to be safe.

Nobody actually thinks I'm a princess. This was culled from an ad for markers or pens or something that was also ruthlessly ripped apart for looking like it had been created in 1989 and hand colored by a 3rd grader. My apologies to all 3rd graders.

Dear Sister, please please please forgive me for helping you believe that it is possible to cut out pictures of demonic looking kids, lame journaling about embarrassing birthday invites and Oprah's va-jay-jay flowers without losing a little piece of your soul every time. And for letting this hideous paper escape my notice last year and pollute your new home.

Love, Shauna



The little things.

I was sad when Simple Scrapbooks folded. It was the last magazine to still have a rational(read: not too ugly)approach to paper crafts. But the main reason was because I loved Stacy Julian's scrapbooking philosophy. She has always been about just doing what you can do and giving yourself permission to be okay with it. She keeps pointing out that scrapbooking should be fun not stressful. Last week I accidentally ran across a few random things she's done since then. It made me realize how much I really like not only what she does but how she does it. One of things I found was a YouTube video in which she shows you how she has captured more of the "things" of our lives and how important it is to take note of the everyday not just the special occasion type stuff. I love this idea. It's true how easy it is to convince yourself that as long as you've got pictures of Christmas and every birthday, you're covered. I admit to falling into this trap over the last few years. So, on top of all of the other things for which I have resolved to be an epic failure; I'm adding this to the list. I'm not crazy enough to attempt a picture a day but I have been trying to make more of an effort to grab the camera this week and just go to it. Here are a few of the pics I've managed to get.  

Turner was cold. And had to do dishes. Which in teenage girl world means I don't love her anymore. Because if I did, I would leave the heater at 80 even(especially?)if I suffocate to death and stop being so lazy and just do the damned dishes myself.

In her defense, this was in the middle of a week long exile from Facebook, Pinterest and texting. Gasp! So her attitude in this one kinda makes sense. A 14 year old can only take so much you know. Please note that this is the first time wearing her coat all winter and she wore it in the house the whole night.

Thomas wore this hat all the way up until bedtime the other day.

It made him feel...um, not sure what he was going for here. Patriotic? Presidential?

Turns out it was Turner's hat that he'd found kicking around the living room on it's way to the D.I.

I didn't take this one but had to throw it in. It was taken by Turner(who is obsessed with food pics) to show off the double mutant Starburst jellybean she had found in the bottom of the jar. 20 years from now this will be the most important picture of the year. I'm convinced of that. 



Mmmmm. Punch. My Favorite.

Please accept my apologies. The following is a mostly serious-ish post about something I usually try to avoid discussing like I would normally avoid the plague or Oprah Winfrey. *Continue reading at your own risk*

I have another confession to make. A few years ago I stopped voting. Period. I know, don't say it. I should be taken out and shot for that.
 I am of the firm belief that if a politicians mouth is moving, he or she is lying. On occasion even to themselves as much as others. Now, that's not to say that alot of the people that hold office in this great land of ours aren't good people. I'd say the majority of them are good neighbors. It's the nature of the beast as much as anything. You can start out with a bucket full of good intentions but in the end you'll always be proudly walking down the street holding a bucket full of shit. I feel this holds true regardless of party affiliation, gender or religion. I also refuse to align myself with a specific political party for pretty much the same reasons. Both parties are equally peopled with fools, narcissistic assholes and the true believers known in our house as punch drinkers. As much as I think Nancy Pelosi to be as dangerous an evil lunatic that has ever wandered the capitol building, I consider one of our own wonderful senators, Mike Lee to be such an out of touch loony as to make me embarrassed to tell people I'm from Utah. Sometimes the things he says makes me want to grab people in the supermarket and yell, "what is wrong with you!". As much as I find the details of Obama care horrifying, I hope I'm not naive enough to believe that a Republican president will do anything but find something equally useless on which to spend ridiculous amounts of money and shove down our throats with the argument that it's good for us. There seems to be something that occurs when you take any sort of oath of office. From the Mayor of Pleasant Grove to the President and in between, a sort of brain shift that makes you instantly convinced you know what your constituents NEED in spite of what they might tell you they want. If I hear one more person talk about "it's what the American people want" I'm going to vomit all over myself. When someone says that what they really mean is, "this is what I've decided the American people SHOULD want". And don't tell me that if I don't like it I should vote to change it. Oh my child. Honey; not only is it a choice between the same person just wearing a different suit, I live in one of the reddest states in the country. I may as well go in and vote for Elmer Fudd for all the good it would do. Not that I have much against him except that he will say anything to anybody as long as he gets to be president but, hello! Mitt Romney is(kind of) a Mormon so I'm pretty sure we can guess who will take Utah through the primaries to the election. There are a few too many punch drinkers around here for there to be any other outcome. (see Mike Lee above) So then, in honor of Super Tuesday, I culled a few gems from my massive Quote collection that really say it better than I could in a million years for you to mull over on your way to vote.   

"In statesmanship get the formalities right, never mind about the moralities."-Mark Twain

"Trade and commerce, if they were not made of India-rubber, would never manage to bounce over the obstacles which legislators are continually putting in their way; and, if one were to judge these men wholly by the effects of their actions and not partly by their intentions, they would deserve to be classed and punished with those mischievous persons who put obstructions on the railroads."-Henry David Thoreau

"What is earnest is not always true; on the contrary, error is often more earnest than truth." -Benjamin Disraeli

"Authority poisons everybody who takes authority on himself."-Lenin

"It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no distinctly native American criminal class except Congress."-Mark Twain

"A man of such obvious and exemplary charm must be a liar."-Anita Brookner

"Politics are for foreigners with their endless wrongs and paltry rights. Politics are a lousy way to get things done. Politics are, like God's infinite mercy, a last resort."-P.J. O'Rourke

"When the doctrine of allegiance to party can utterly up-end a man's moral constitution and make a temporary fool of him besides, what excuse are you going to offer for preaching it, teaching it, extending it, perpetuating it? Shall you say, the best good of the country demands allegiance to party? Shall you also say it demands that a man kick his truth and his conscience into the gutter, and become a mouthing lunatic, besides?" -Mark Twain

*And lastly this gem from one of the last men to make it to the Oval office with a few convictions that actually were his own. At least he was willing to tell it like it is-

"Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first."-Ronald Reagan

P.S. I didn't change the usual quote on the sidebar because it's too good and it really seems to apply here too.

I feel a profanity laced tirade coming on...

Okay. Let's stop tip-toeing around the elephant in the room shall we? I have big boobs. Really cussing big boobs. The cute new bras I dropped $90 on last week in order to have something with which to cover said boobs showed up today. Yes. 90 cussing smackers. And that's with free shipping and no taxes I might add. I was pretty stoked because that's usually what I have to spend to get two. Truth. I excitedly tried them all on this afternoon. And...not a cussing one of them fit me. Cuss. Foolish me. All hopeful and everything. I cussing know better. Out of the five I bought, I would have needed an 8 inch extension or instant boob job before I could even get more than two done up. All of them are now on their way back from whence they came with it costing me $7.50 to do so. And before you ask, I'm not a complete cussing moron. I did order all the same size. If you can trust the cussing tags anyway. And I've been fitted-about 200 times. And I bought the right size. Doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure most bras(and womens clothes for that matter)are all designed by a pack of anorexic A cup cussers with a mammoth grudge against anyone with a cussing jiggle or two. Or since we're being brutally honest here, three or four. I do resemble a plate of lumpy Jell-o jigglers in a few more places than I'd care to count.

But here's the kicker; in my travels on our wonderful world wide web today I found a fit chart that lists how to find your size depending on the manufacturer. There is a 2 or 3 size spread between them. What the cuss!!??! How do you even know what to buy? If you say go to a store and try them on, I will come over there and punch you in your cussing mouth, funny guy. I'd like to tell all the clothes makers thank you for deciding chubbies like me need buying clothes to be a more traumatic experience than giving birth. In the back of a Uhaul. During a downpour. On the side of a mountain in Bolivia. With Tom Cruise as a birth coach. Heaven forbid you consider more than 17% of the population you cussing cussers. Ugh. No wonder I refuse to buy new bras until the last one I have crawls out of the drawer and throws itself in the trash out of sheer exhaustion. The one I've been wearing begs to be put out of it's misery every time I put it on.

 But what's a girl to do?  Last time I tried to buy bras I returned 5 different sets before I cussing gave up. Let's not even talk about trying to find shirts that don't make you look like you're 10 minutes from giving birth or charging 50 bucks for a quickie under the overpass. Not to mention the impossibility of finding a swimming suit that actually fits you AND comes in under 150 cussing big ones. Again, truth.  

 I have had smaller chested girls congratulating me on my chest size since 9th grade. Yea many years later and I still get the occasional envious comment. Idiots. The rule that applies to salt in cooking applies to breast size. They forget that they can always add padding or something but it doesn't exactly work the other way around. Well, today I have officially had it up to my cussing eyeballs people.

So-

Smaller chested girls be warned: next time you tell me how lucky I am to have big boobs I'm going to push you down and rub your face and smaller boobs into the asphalt until you admit that there is no way buying $10 bras at Walmart whenever you cussing feel like it is preferable to this crap. 

Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss!

 If you have children that go to school you should be well aware that Theodor Geisel was born today in 1904. Due to the fact that I am basically a large toddler, I still read and love Dr Seuss. In fact, having Dr. Seuss day at school was always one of the few things that I could always get behind. I say few things because I am one of those lame Moms that think most of the extra stuff they pay attention to in elementary school trends to the useless and just plain stupid. So shoot me. I have always liked it so much that it makes me kind of sad that Suzie is finally too old for it and we don't get to participate in Dr. Seuss Day anymore. So in honor of the fact that if he were alive today he would be gumming Birthday cake with us, there should be Green Eggs and Ham on the table tonight. Consume those, whether or not there is a fox present, and then enjoy the clever absurdities in my 2 favorites of his stories-The Sneetches and What was I Scared of?. Try not to feel too sad for the plain belly Sneetches with no stars upon thars and too worried about the pair of pale green pants with nobody inside 'em as you do. I know I should mention How the Grinch Stole Christmas  but let's just save that for Christmas shall we? Then before you toddle off to bed take with you 

this little "Did you know?" that I picked up from one of my favorite websites; Dictionary.com. Seriously. I go on there nearly everyday. Go play the Word Dynamo games. They'll let you play the same words over and over until you can convince yourself that you're not as much of a dumbass as originally thought.

Along with grinch, Dr. Seuss also invented the word

*nerd*
1951, U.S. student slang, probably an alteration of 1940s slang nert "stupid or crazy person," itself an alteration of nut. The word turns up in a Dr. Seuss book from 1950 ("If I Ran the Zoo"), which may have contributed to its rise. Adjective nerdy is from 1978.

(nerd. Dictionary.com. Online Etymology Dictionary. Douglas Harper, Historian. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/nerd (accessed: March 02, 2012).

 Just to keep you from having to look to the right, I'll leave you with this Dr. Seuss quote(that I really consider words to live by and one of the reasons I find his stuff so appealing)here instead,

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, And that enables you to laugh at life's realities.”