Retro: Snap, Crackle, Pop...

So my last blog was on locker room etiquette and I didn't really want to do etiquette again because I do love to keep you all on your toes with my subject choices, but due to the head-shaking experience of this past weekend, I've decided to venture into what I believe to be proper grocery store etiquette.


It started with shampoo. I should've known exactly how this shopping excursion was going to go simply by the challenge shampoo proved to be. So I'm trying to get to the Garnier Fructiste shampoo (based on a recommendation from a friend because she said her hair broke off less but in my personal and professional review, it made my hair big and not soft – both not good things to be) and this lady is studying every bottle on the aisle. I understand completely this action because I do it too. Problem is: her basket. It's empty and sitting in the middle of the aisle. I say excuse me because my mama raised me right and, barely glancing my way, moves it closer to the shampoo. Um, thanks? For effect (because I'm a little irritated and possibly invisible?) I stand on the bottom edge of her cart and reach way over to grab the shampoo and conditioner I need. Apparently, only then did my invisible cape fall off, because she tries to move the cart. No, it's fine, thank you, I got what I need. Jenny: 1 Grocery store: 0



Next up are the families who shop together. First off let me point out that I FULLY support doing things together as a family. I cannot stress this enough. However, when your family count is in the double digits such as 17 or so members and you are all congregating in the middle of aisle to discuss the 37 different kinds of Chex Mix and which one best suits your family's needs, it becomes more of a roadblock than quality time. Might I suggest taking turns going down the aisles? Send kids 1, 7, and 9 for the chips, then maybe kids 3-5 over there to get the milk. Hey, it's just a suggestion. I understand that it's probably hard to find stuff to do under the $500 mark when you're that numerous, but please let's work something out. I really need those Pringles you are blocking. Jenny: 1 Grocery Store: 1



And finally we have Macaroni Joe. I give Joe 100 cool points for effort here though. He tried to stay out of the way while he researched macaroni. He really, really tried. BUT…parking your cart on one side of the aisle as close to the shelf as he could get it, and then standing on the other side of the aisle with his face 2 inches from the mac boxes kind of defeated the purpose. Poor guy. Here he is thinking he's doing a world of good by keeping the aisles clear, but now nobody can get pasta OR mac 'n' cheese. And don't you know my egg noodles were behind his cart. *sigh* I fold. Well played, grocery store. Well played.

Vintage: Locker Room Etiquette...

I, as are many of you, am a member of a health club. I work out regularly and while I have not had a need to use the locker/shower aspect of the locker room yet, I have been in there to use the facilities. For those of you who have never been in a locker room, it is not entirely unusual to see some flesh. I understand that after a workout or swim in the pool many people need to shower and change and go on with their days. Now let me take this moment to point out locker room nudity is fine with me, as long as said nudity is respectful of the other people in the room. However, when nudity sits its BARE ASS on the community bench, that's when I black out and try to find my happy place. Excuse me ma'am, but there is nothing between that bench and all of your business!!! Lay a towel down for goodness sake! Some poor unsuspecting woman is going to walk in here in 15 minutes and put her bag and workout gear on that same bench, completely clueless as to what violations have occurred. So please people, think. Be aware of what you're doing. Spare those of us who just happened to look up at the wrong time. And please bring a towel.

29 + 1...

Well. Looks like I lied didn't I?  I looked you right in the reading comprehension and lied.  *shame*  Are you still talking to me?  I know I said I'd post stuff and tell stories and all that, but then I didn't.  And honestly, I just didn't want to, and I don't really even feel all that bad about it, so we're just going to have to suck it up and move.  So we're good here? Good.

So what should we talk about?  I guess I'll tell you about my birthday party since I know that's what you are most interested in. 

I turned 30.  Hooray?  Actually, I'm really okay with it because from what I hear, the 30's are the place to be.  No therapy needed.  And because I have some of the most fantastic friends ever made in the universe, they threw me a birthday party.  It was a Phantom of the Opera themed masquerade ball.  Dude, are you jealous?  Because seriously, how awesome is that? 

We all dressed up in formal gowns and fancy masks and whirled and twirled around my friend Amanda's huge living room to the soundtrack to Phantom.  And then of course when that got old, we whirled and twirled to some Flo Rida because we are nothing, if not classy. 

These ladies did such a fantastic job decorating that it still blows my mind.  The entire dining room was covered in black tablecloths and all lights were replaced with those flickering votive fake candles.  Red carnations and handmade artwork were around too, so that it had that air of old, creepy mansion or whatever.  Bottom line:  it kicked heinie.  (Unrelated question:  How exactly is heinie spelled?  Because I always feel wrong no matter how I do it?  Is it heinie?  Heiny? Heinee? Hi-Knee? Help me internet.)

So there you have it in a wee, little nutshell.  To review:  I'm 30, my friends are amazing, and I can't spell slang words for buttocks. 

The end.

I used to be a blogger once....

Dude.  I know.  It's been 100 years and you were all getting horribly concerned that I might have fallen off the edge of the planet.  But no worries.  I am still here.  I just haven't been here here ya know?  And really, it's not because I don't have anything to say.  It's pretty much that I just have TOO MUCH to say which causes a system overload and leaves me with nothing to say.  Are you following this?  Me neither.

Anyway, I hope you all are rocking your lives like the awesome peeps you are.  I will do my best to update more often, especially now that I'm a little afraid of Kathryn.  She sent me an intense poke comment which left a righteous bruise, man.  Soooo many stories to tell you.  I mean, really, did you all know that I have moved?  You did know that actually because I told you, but did you know I moved to a whole new STATE? No, you did not.  And did you also know that I FINALLY got a job?  Bet ya didn't.  And how about the fact that I am now officially and legally and sassily 30 years old?  And there was a birthday party?  That involved ball gowns?  And masquerade masks? Yowza right?  Here is the edge of your seat, welcome to it.

So yeah, I'll try to fill you in on the scoop as soon as my brain cooperates.  It's been far too preoccupied with things like 2 story inflatable water slides and vampires and werewolves to even try to form complete sentences.  Stay tuned ok....?

Thanks for sticking around. :)

xoxo,

The Rest of the Story...

So here it is.  The reason behind the cryptic message requesting your awesome.  I needed this dress.  On the cheap, no less.  And don't you know it only took me two Goodwills to find it.  And it was only $5!  Holler!

So to ease your troubled minds, here is The REST of the STORY: (you said that all Paul Harvey-like right? Good.) 

(*Plus 10 cool points for those of you who made my day and tried to guess the answers.  I heart you.)

Alright, so I'm looking for a dress that is required for a 50's party that is coming up in the next couple of weeks. As long as it fits the theme and doesn't have a poodle on it (because I HATE POODLES! DISLIKE!), then it'll work. Oh, and it can't cost more than $20. Follow?

My BFF's parents' 30th wedding anniversary was this month, so their wonderful children threw them a fantastic surprise 50's themed sock hop.  And because my BFF is a bit theme party obsessed and would likely fight me in the parking lot if I even dared consider not dressing up, I began the hunt for The Outfit.  And you guys?  Costumes are expensive, yo!  My initial plan was to go sort of 50's housewife a la Stepford, but don't you know that's impossible to do without spending $150 on a Vintage Frock or whatever.  BFF was all on the whole poodle skirt bandwagon, and, just...no.  I couldn't do it.  On principle!  I cannot have a poodle on my person!  I cannot! (My sincerest apologies to those of you who have poodles that you love and cherish and who provide you with the companionship you so deserve.  I am very happy for you and your poodle because although I DISLIKE! them, I do not want any harm to befall them and am happy that you are providing them with love and care.  But please, keep it over there away from me and don't make me look at it.  But still, happy for you.)

So yeah, poodle skirt is not an option, and I found several that had other appliques like records or music note which is fine, however, they all cost like 30 bucks.  Which I know is not outrageous or anything, but y'all, I still don't have a j-o-b and 50's costume was never in the "Food, Clothing, Shelter" list of needs my Dad raised us with.  So sorry non-poodle skirt.  You will not be coming home with me.  On my second Goodwill trip, I found the above dress. WOO HOO!  It was a couple of sizes too small so I had to cut the seam all the way to the waist in the back to allow for all the breathing stuff that the medical community insists is so important.  But I'd say it worked quite well.  Except that it smelled like a Goodwill and I forgot to wash it until the day of the party and it's made of really high quality classy rayon so it was all DRY CLEAN ONLY and yeah right so I threw it in the sink with lingerie soap to do some handwashing.  And then I was in such a hurry to not be handwashing this dress that I didn't exactly rinse it all the way so instead of smelling like a Goodwill, I smelled dinstinctly like a 90 year old woman IN a Goodwill.  So there's that.

My lovely friend, Amanda, loaned me her cute little white shrug, and I got the ribbon for my hair and the waistband for like $3 or something at a fabric shop. Then there were the shoes. The adorable, pinching, suffocating, blister making shoes I had to borrow.  See, the party was an hour and a half away from where I live so I was getting ready at a friend's house nearby. I bought some faux Keds at Wal-Mart to wear with these little white bobby socks.  Don't you know I was all ready to go before I realized I left my shoes at home.  An hour and a half away.  I yelled a few words I think.  I can't be sure.  But my darling friend had these cute pair of Steve Madden pumps with a kitten heel, and because I didn't see myself strutting into this party with my Asics on, I figured I'd have to make them work.  Here's the thing:  I wear a 9 1/2 shoe.  Except in Steve Madden's, which I have to wear a 10, and even then there is zero wiggle room.  The shoes she loaned me?  Were a 9.  Sometimes, you just have to commit to the character.  I wore them and danced and twirled and laughed all night about how agonizingly tight they were because apparently my Self thinks that kind of thing is funny.

And then we went home and drank orange juice while reading the news and making sarcastic comments.  Because that's what they did in the 50's.

Welcome Wagon...

I thought y'all might like to see what I see when I pull into my carport....

It's the highlight of my day. :)

It is well with my soul...

Or more specifically:

Know what I mean?