Wonder if my insurance covers "fetish therapy"?

I finished the last of my Christmas returns yesterday. I only had 4 things that needed to be returned, it just took me this long to get around to finishing them. The last thing was a pair of jeans for Jacob. He needed to exchange them for a different size. So after I bribed the boys with lunch at Olive Garden yesterday afternoon (they had early release time from school), we headed on over to JC Penney to do the big exchange. Well 'lo and behold, Penney's was having a sale. A fairly good sale, too. Not only did Jake get his jeans exchanged, but he also came out of there with 2 more t-shirts. Kaleb also got a pair of jeans. They both probably would have gotten more, but they kind of ran out of "Mom time" and decided they were done. Teenagers. I swear. But anywho, since we were in separate cars, they went their way and I went...well, I kept shopping. You know, my dearly beloved told me once that he thought I had a shoe fetish. I told him he was crazy. Turns out, he was most probably right. I didn't start out in the shoe section at Penney's. I just sort of ended up there. (And found two totally awesome sweaters along the way!). The shoes, though. Well. What can I say? I saw these first:

Lovely brown. I needed them. I'm not sure why I needed them, since I do already have, oh I don't know, at least 4 other pairs of brown heels. But that's not really the point, now is it? The point is, these shoes called to me. And when I answered them (because I always try to answer shoes when they call to me - it is the polite thing to do!), I found that they were on sale for under TWENTY DOLLARS. Hel-looooo! Like I could turn my back on that, right? So I scooped them up, held them to my bosom and declared them mine. And that's when my eyes saw these:Yeah. The exact same shoe, only in black! How many times have you been in your closet, looking for the perfect pair of shoes to wear and have picked up one pair only to wish you had them in a different color? Happens all the time, right? I can't tell you the times I've wished I had this one particular pair of shoes in black instead of brown (and I even bought the black first and then returned them and bought the brown at a later date - don't ask - it was a weird time for me). But with this pair of shoes, I have an opportunity to avoid the agony of wrong color purchase - I can just purchase them in both colors 'cause the price is so outrageously good. So that's what I did. I brought both pairs home with me and I love them so. Aren't they fan-tabulous?

Well. The good times weren't over yet. After I left JC Penney, I decided to mosey on down to Belk to see what I could see. Again, I didn't start out in the shoe section. But that's where I ended up. Check these out:

Gasp! Aren't they just WOW! I mean really. WOW! And they were on sale, too. I think they were about $22 bucks. To tell you the truth, I don't really remember what they cost - I was in the throes of boot euphoria and once I saw the 70% off sign, I just shut my eyes and swooned. All this ecstatic emotion over these three pairs of shoes has led me to the realization that Randey may have been onto something when he called my love of shoes a "fetish". Well, that and the fact that I actually bought THREE FLIPPIN' PAIRS OF SHOES FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON IN ONE DAY! The good news? Calling it a "fetish" means it's, technically speaking, a "mental disorder" and therefore, I'm not responsible. Right? Yes. Yes indeed. That is right.
In other news, when I downloaded the pictures of my beautiful new shoes, I found these pictures from Christmas on my camera as well. This one is Maddy, my oldest granddaughter, sitting in Starbucks. Doesn't she look like a proper young lady here? She's such a great kid.

These next two pictures are of Nick, Kaleb and Jacob at Penn Square Mall in Oklahoma City.

Now check out Nick's face once he realized I had my camera out. lol

And this is a favorite. You knew it would happen one day: cash is no longer any good. Read this sign:

Reckon I can write 'em a check for a gift card? Or maybe I can use a stolen credit card and just buy a whole bunch of 'em and shop 'til I drop. Guess anything's possible. All I know is, they don't want no stinkin' CASH anymore. Yer money ain't no good here, folks! Kind of scary, isn't it?

That's about it for today! Hope everyone is having a wonderful FRIDAY!!

We Are Family!

This past weekend, I traveled to Birmingham, Alabama for what I'm calling the "First Annual Cousins Get-Together". Actually, it was more like a Mini-Get-Together than a full-blown one. And calling it an "annual" event might be jumping the gun a bit, but I'm sure hoping we manage to turn it into such a thing. Anywho, Randey, the boys and I drove to Florida Friday (we had to bring our granddaughter back to her mom) and then my sister Sherri and her daughter Megen and I drove from Florida to Birmingham early Saturday morning and met our cousins, Kristie and Sunshine, for some cousin "bonding" time. lol We started out with some shopping which naturally gave us all an appetite for lunch. Here we are at P.F. Changs: From left to right: Sunshine, Sherri, me, Megen and Kristie. I had never eaten there before and was excited to get to try it. I gotta tell you, their Mongolian Beef and Pork Fried Rice were fabulous (so much for that Weight Watchers will power I've been so proud of lately!).

Here's a picture of Sunshine, all laid up in a chair at Pottery Barn.

And here's a picture of Megen, Kristie and Sherri telling Sunshine to get her butt up out of the $1600.00 Pottery Barn chair. lol
Once we fed our faces, we headed to the hotel for check in. Then we went to Sunshine's house and visited for a bit and then headed back out for more shopping. Kristie and Sunshine's brother, Trey, wanted to join us for dinner. And even though this was a chick weekend, we let him. (ha!) Here he is with Kristie.
Who could resist that face? And here we all are together:
That's Sunshine, Megen, Trey, Kristie, Sherri and me. We ate at a place call Firebirds and it was delicious! I had a pepper crusted steak that was so tender, it was all I could do not to inhale the whole thing. (Yeah. Weight Watchers did indeed take a beating this weekend.)

Here's a picture of the place we stayed at, the Ross Bridge Golf and Spa Resort (we didn't do any golfing or spa-ing, though):
Check out the pool area. Sweet, eh?

Check out the waterfall going into the pool. Luckily, I didn't bring a swimsuit and even luckier, it was sort of overcast Sunday morning or I might have been tempted to swim (and nobody really wants to see that, trust me. I swim like a rock).
Sunshine went home Sunday morning to tend to her youngest son while Sherri, Megen, Kristie and I partook in the breakfast buffet at the resort. Had we known how much the breakfast buffet cost, we might have partook in an Egg McMuffin instead. Yowza! Check out the bill:
Yessir. Sixty nine dollars and 76 cents. For four people. And not one glass of champagne in sight!

Here's Megen, Kristie and Sherri looking down onto the pool after breakfast. (They were still in sticker shock over the cost of breakfast, hence the leaning on the banister. lol)

Another guest at the hotel offered to take our picture together. We kind of scratched our heads over this "sculpture" when we first saw it. Then we figured out that it represented the University of Alabama Roll Tide (from l to r: me, Sherri, Megen and Kristie).
There was also an Auburn War Eagle "sculpture" hanging from the ceiling. I forced Kristie to stand in front of it so I could take her picture:
Speaking of Kristie, I have to tell you guys something awful that Kristie accused me of (I'm still shattered by it). She and I were bedmates Saturday night and, first of all, she told some wild and crazy tale about me snoring. Oh please. Like such a delicate flower like myself could possibly snore, right? Then she said some garbage about the noises I make when I sleep. Some nonsense about me moaning ever so slightly as I snoozed...well, let's just say she accused me of dreaming impure thoughts, okay? Now I ask you...what kind of cousin says things like that? Anybody who knows me would naturally assume I sleep like an angel, a quiet and sweet tender angel. Kristie was obviously tipping back a few brewskis when the rest of us weren't looking because I mean really! Me, snore? Never. And me make strange and obnoxious noises in addition to snoring?? P-u-l-e-a-s-e. But, thanks to her spreading these vile tales about me (and by spreading, I mean she told me, Sherri and Megen!), I'll probably have to bunk alone on the next Cousin Adventure. I don't know that I'll ever get over her scandalous accusations. (heavy, heavy, painfully sad, sigh).
Oh okay. So maybe I do snore. A little. Maybe. So what? But I'm not owning up to the other stuff. Uh-huh. No way. And now that I've cleared that up, let's move on, shall we?
Sunshine and her youngest met us back up at the hotel later on and we headed back towards Kristie's home to do a little more shopping before the weekend ended. Randey and the boys drove up from Florida and picked me up around noon and we four headed straight home to Texas. Approximately 10 hours later, we pulled up in our driveway.

It was a wonderful weekend with the cousins and I really hope we can make this a regular thing. Special note to Michael and Wallace: We've now proven that this generation can get together and have fun without any conflicts whatsoever! (As long as you don't count Kristie's bizarre-o talk about my sleeping habits, that is! ha!) That means you guys need to start getting serious about whether or not you want to join in on the next one. We're thinking of meeting in Vicksburg, Mississippi next time. No dates yet (although Trey has expressed a preference for Spring or Fall). Don't worry - we'll "talk" plenty before any plans are set in concrete!

Now that all the excitement of this last trip is over, though, I have to say I'm pretty much maxed out on my traveling this summer. Between the trip up north to Montana, South Dakota and Minnesota, the trip to Oklahoma, the first trip to Florida, the second trip to Florida with an add on to Birmingham, Alabama - we've traveled more than 7,500 miles (all by car!) since school let out in May. It's all been great fun and I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I'm ready to chill out here at the house for awhile now. I need my rest, you know. After all, Christmas is right around the corner! LOL

We've Had an Art Attack

I've got to tell you guys about this affliction that has struck both Randey and I. It's actually kind of sad and more than just a little embarrassing, but I know I'm going to find some understanding amongst at least one or two other people out there. Maybe. Hopefully. I don't know how it's happened and I don't know why it's happened, I just know it has happened. Somewhere along life's path, Randey and I became strangely enamored with.....landscape art. And not just any landscape art. It has to be cheap or we just don't seem to get the same thrill out of it otherwise. In fact, it's almost like the "cheapness" matters more to us than the beauty of the piece. (And when I say "we" and "us", I mean mainly me. I'll admit it here. Randey has better taste than I do in certain areas and is more willing to shell out a dollar or two for his "finds" than I am). I think the strangest part of the whole thing is that this bizarre longing for cheap, tacky, er...I mean...inexpensive, interesting landscape art struck us both at the same time. Now we're like fiends whenever we're out shopping in junk stores. No landscape art is safe from us. Unless it cost too much, that is. Then it's pretty darn safe from us. We got this painting in South Dakota on our recent vacation. (Yeah. We bought a painting that we then had to manage to get home in one piece without anyone shoving a suitcase through it or something. I told you. We're afflicted.) We paid $15.00 for it and you'd of thought it was a Rembrandt, the way we fawned all over it. lol We got this next one at the Antique Mall in Benbrook, Texas. It was marked $75.00 originally, but was on sale for 75% off, which made it $18.75. Randey just had to have it, even if I thought the price was a little high. (I know, I know. There's cheap and then there's really cheap. I'm really cheap when it comes to stuff like this.) When we took it to the register, though, the lady gave us another 75% off, so we only paid $4.69 for it. I've liked it much better ever since then.
This next one is...well, not so great. It's pretty bad, really. But it was only $2.00 and the frame was another $2.00 - four dollars total, baby. Makes it look better and better (she said with her head dipping in shame at her own cheapness).

This next one rates pretty low on my "Happy I Bought It" scale. Sure, I do kind of like the thing, but Randey paid almost $28.00 for it. I had to remind Randey of the joy that comes with cheap-o shopping after this. Geez. He almost ruined our new hobby for me.
I got this next one in Purcell, Oklahoma. I stopped to shop their Main Street antique stores on my way back from my dad's house a few months ago after he'd been in the hospital. I think it cost about $20, which was waaaaaay too much, but I was feeling weak. I've regretted this purchase ever since I made it.
But not nearly as much as I've regretted this one. Talk about a bad painting. Sure. The stupid thing was another $2 find, but even I have to say that, for once, I should have been a little more concerned with quality. What can I say? I got caught up in the moment. It could happen to anybody. Right? Okay - so maybe not.
Luckily, we're running out of room to display our not-so-fine art. As you can see, I've never met a blank piece of wall that I haven't felt the need to cover.
I'm really sort of hoping we've both played out this painting collecting fetish and won't feel the need to further add to our sad little art collection. Even I'm starting to question our sanity (not to mention our taste!)....

The Bra Olympics

Who says women are the weaker sex? Forget about the whole giving birth thing, forget about needing that degree in accounting just to keep the bills straight, forget about cooking, cleaning and organizing a household. Forget about all the things that your average, everyday woman does that would cripple your average, everyday man if he had to endure them. Because even if you take all those things out of the equation, I still say a woman is mentally and emotionally stronger than a man could ever be. And just how and why have I arrived at this astonishing conclusion? Well I'll tell you. A man never, ever has to shop for and/or wear a bra. Period. Talk about a Test of Strength! Bra shopping could, and probably should, qualify as an Olympic sport. First of all, not only do bra sizes differ from manufacturer to manufacturer, but they sometimes differ style to style within the same manufacturer (i.e., the Beautiful Benefits bra, size 38C by Vanity Fair, may fit so differently than, say... the Body Elegance, size 38C, also by Vanity Fair, that you may actually wear a different size in that style!). So to buy a new bra, you can't just waltz into the store, pick up "your size", then traipse on over to the register with it. No, sir. You have to pick about 450 different bras to take to the dressing room to try on. Six at a time. (As most of you women know, most stores tend to frown on you taking copious amounts of clothing into a dressing room with you so they limit the number of garments you can take at any one time). So say you "normally" wear a 38C...that means you have to not just find that size, but you also need to check out some 40C's, some 36C's, some 38B's and some 38D's. All in the hopes that one of those sizes will actually corral your girls into some sort of perky, figure enhancing style without actually causing grievous bodily harm to your shoulders, your back and/or to your girls themselves. 'Course, there are stores that have an "attendant". A person who will not only bring you different bras in different sizes, but will also assist you in donning said bras and adjusting the straps accordingly. However. This little chicken (i.e., ME) is not terribly comfortable with having a strange woman jerk me around while trying to snag "the twins" into a set of elastic bowl-like devices. (Heck, I'm not even comfortable with a familiar woman doing that, much less a strange one, but let's not digress.) If you're looking for two different types of bra (for example; a strapless bra and a sports bra) your work is pretty much doubled. Sports bras don't fit the same as a strapless. In fact, no two types of bra fit the same. And heaven knows, they have enough different types out there to torture a person with. So many, in fact, that simply deciding what kind of bra you need can be a mind binder. There's the underwire bra, the wireless bra, the demi-cup bra, the full cup bra...there's the padded bra, the shelf bra, the t-shirt bra and the convertible bra. There's also the minimizer bra, as well as the maximizer bra. I even saw a sign in the dressing room at Kohls that said "Discover our newest brand of intimate apparel....The Push-up Plunge Bra"! Say what? Push up and plunge?? My girls immediately started writhing in agony and I had to cut my shopping trip short just to go home and apply an ice pack to my chest. Oh, okay. That's a lie. But what kind of goofy name is that for a bra anyway? I mean, honestly. I won't even get into the strange visuals that crazy name inspired. Suffice it to say, I think someone down at the ad agency has a sick sense of humor and some idiot at Kohls fell for his joke.

Anywho, whether you call your bra a "Push-up Plunge" or a double-barreled slingshot, a "Live-It-Up Seamless" or a booby trap, the fact remains that shopping for a bra is not for the feint of heart...and actually wearing one should qualify a woman for a merit badge in Long-Term Torture Survival. I don't believe I've met the man who could stand up to the kind of punishment bra wearing entails. But in the interest of fairness, I'm willing to be proven wrong. You fellas, go ahead, strap on a Man Bra and wear it for a week or so. Then let me know how "weak" you think I am afterwards, okay? I'm just saying.

We're Goin' on a Mini-Moon!

What's a Mini-Moon, you ask? It's a weekend honeymoon sort of thing. More accurately, it's a weekend away with no children. Yee-haw! Randey and I are going to Bricktown in Oklahoma City. I love Bricktown. It's just cool. Tomorrow afternoon we'll be driving to Midwest City to drop the boys off at my dad's and Randey and I are heading to OKC (yeah, well, it's only about 6 or 7 miles away, so it's not like we'll have a long drive ahead of us from there). We plan on going to the Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum - Randey's never seen it and it is certainly worth seeing. It's so beautiful, the way they've created a place of peace out of something so horrific. And then, of course, we're going to be eating at Toby Keith's I Love This Bar and Grill Restaurant. I've been wanting to go since it opened, but we've never managed to get there. I'm actually not a fan of country music for the most part, but I do loves me some Tobe. We might also visit the OKC Museum of Art - don't know if I can talk Randey into that one yet. Odds are against it, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway. And - I'm happy to report - the Oklahoma Redhawks, a farm team for the Texas Rangers, just happen to be having a home game Saturday night so we're planning on attending that. I love going to those ballgames. It's a wonderful ballpark that has the most awesome statue of Johnny Bench, THE Greatest Catcher in Baseball History, outside the stadium on the 1st base side. I can't tell you the times I've had my picture taken with that statue. One of these days, I'm going to take a ladder with me so I can actually climb up on it and get a GREAT picture of me and J.B. together. lol (Ahhhhhhh...it'd be so worth getting arrested for.....) On Sunday, we'll head back to Dad's, have brunch with them and then head on home. What a weekend! A mini-moon with Big Daddy (aka Randey!) and Mother's Day with my kids. Well, half of my kids. The only thing that could possibly make it any better would be to have all of my kids and my grandchildren with me on that day.
Anywho, since we're going on this little Mini-Moon and since I've recently cleaned out my closet like a madwoman, I decided I needed some new clothes! (I actually blame this on Brenda. I was reading her blog and she was showing some clothes and shoes she'd bought for her upcoming trip to Amish country and I lost all control of myself. Like I told her, I'm probably one of those people who could be hypnotized very easily because WOW, the slightest little hint of suggestion was all I needed to hit the stores!). Now remember, this is a casual weekend, so I bought casual clothes. First is this outfit:

I know, I know...I'm a sucker for bright colors. Can't help it. I showed my restraint when it came to the capri pants. They're dark chocolate brown (which sounds better than just saying "brown"). Then I got this outfit:

I'm actually not much of a fan of HOT pink, but what the heck. Randey's always loved me in pink (I have no idea why) so I'm going with it. Notice the blue jean capri pants have hot pink stitching, too. And then, because I'm a firm believer in "you can never have too many watches", I bought a new watch, too. It's pretty cool....has cross charms all thru it and it jangles. What more you ask for in a watch? (Besides that it tell time, you smart***es!)
I also bought this skirt. I don't know why. I have nothing to wear with it. I didn't need it for this weekend, but I tried it on and loved the way it fit and felt. I'll find a top for it, sooner or later. I hope.
And then, since I had two new outfits, I thought maybe I should look into shoes to go with them. Because of the 3 rows of shoes I have at home, not one single pair was THE perfect pair for either of these "casual" outfits. Although, come to think of it, just how "perfect" does a pair of sandals have to be before you can declare them "workable"? Ah well, the deed is done so it doesn't matter now. Here's what I found:
Cute, huh? Well. After all that fierce and frenzied shopping for little ol' me, I started to feel a tad bit guilty. So I bought Randey 2 shirts, too. The "official" name of the color for the one on the left is called "Lemon Sherbet". LOL Don't tell Randey. He'd have a stroke if he thought he was wearing something called that.
That's my shopping spree. This is what I have to show for my efforts of yesterday. Well, that and another PRIMO crock pot dinner that I cooked. By golly, I'll have you to know, I've cooked every single night this week! Not one dinner out. This is a record in our household. lol Of course, I did eat lunch out. But lunch doesn't count. (That's actually a rule in the Official Guidebook of Cooking, Eating and Spending Money on Food). Speaking of eating out though, I'd like to take this moment to pass on a little advice to any and all out there who work in the service industry for a living. Specifically those of you who work the counter at, say...Chick-fil-a (or anywhere else really) and those of you who wait tables for a living at maybe a Logan's Roadhouse, for instance. Should a robust and/or fluffier-sized woman happen to order a soft drink from you and you are unclear as to what she asked for, do yourself a favor and don't say "Did you say diet coke?". See that's just rude. It'd be better to say "Did you say regular coke?" or "I'm sorry, what was that drink?". This is twice within the last couple of weeks that this has happened to me. The first time, I ordered a coke and the waitress says "Was that a diet coke?" and the second time was yesterday, when I ordered a small lemonade. The chick behind the counter said, "Did you say diet lemonade?". You know guys, it may be your perception that I should be ordering the diet versions of those drinks, but I'm the paying customer. I have been kind enough to choose your place of business to spend my money, thereby helping to enable your continued employment. Try not to insult me, eh? That'd be great. Really. And by not insulting me, the life you save may be your own. I'm coming so close to succumbing to that almost overwhelming urge to pick up your little stick-figured selves and smack you around like the WWF Champion I apparently so closely resemble. Now remember, this advice is for your own good. I haven't gotten violent or loud about it yet....but it's comin'. (This has been a public service announcement brought to you by Kari on behalf of big-butted women everywhere. Thank you.)

It's National Pie Day! And I've added other things that I felt the need to share...

Tammy, over at The Pink Magnolia is hosting a "National Pie Day Recipe Exchange" (who'd a thunk such a thing as "National Pie Day" existed?). As I believe I've mentioned before on numerous occasions, I. Do. Not. Like. To. Cook. Nor am I particularly good at it. But behold. I have found a pie recipe that even I have mastered. Probably because no actual cooking is involved. It is, however, generally made in the kitchen so that has to count for something on the "I am Wonder Woman of the Kitchen" scale of life, right? I got the recipe from my niece's childhood friend, who got it from her mother. I begged for months to get this recipe. (See? When I ask for a recipe, nobody takes me seriously!) Anywho, it is so easy to make and it tastes absolutely delicious! This recipe makes two, count 'em TWO, pies and I'm telling you, when you serve one of these babies, people will think you really know what you’re doing in the kitchen! (If you knew the true state of my culinary skills, you'd understand why that statement is, indeed, so powerful). So here it is...the recipe for a

MILLION DOLLAR PIE

Ingredients:
1 20 oz can of crushed pineapple
1 15 oz can of mandarin oranges
1 15 oz can of diced peaches
1 14 oz can of condensed milk
½ cup lemon juice
2 8 oz tubs of Cool Whip®
2 regular graham cracker crusts

Pour fruit into a colander. Drain well (best to put the colander in a bowl and set in fridge. Fruit will drain faster and better in cold temperature – I actually drain mine overnight). After draining all juice, put fruit into a bowl with condensed milk and lemon juice. Mix gently. Fold in 1 tub of Cool Whip®. Spoon into crusts. Top with remaining Cool Whip®. Place in fridge (or freezer!) until ready to serve. Simple as that. The only danger comes in your knowing that this puppy's sitting in your fridge or freezer just waiting for someone to come along and appreciate it's near rapturous glory. (And by "someone", I mean ME!) Ahhhhhh. Hey you know what? I have to make a Wal-Mart run today anyway...I think I may have to purchase the ingredients for this. I usually only make it once or twice a year because, well...as I'm sure you've guessed, I have absolutely NO will power. But will power's for monks and rockheads, am I right? Yes, my leetle chickens, I am.

The rest of this post is totally unrelated to the love of pies so if that's all you came for, you might want to skedaddle before your eyes begin crossing and you start questioning the whole concept of blogging as a whole (my ramblings have been known to have that affect on some, particularly members of my own family - which should speak volumes about just exactly how much rambling I actually do!). Now that the "Public Health Warning" is out of the way, let me tell you about something that happened to me yesterday. I had engaged in what is commonly referred to as "therapeutic shopping". I went to Target and Ross's and Kohl's and Rack Room Shoes...mainly buying for my granddaughters' Easter boxes (boxes instead of baskets because they live in Okinawa and if I sent the stuff in baskets, most of it would probably fall out before it even reached California, you know what I mean?). I had a mahhh-velous time. Then my foot started to hurt, mainly because of the crappy shoes I was wearing. While I love those shoes for their ease of access (they're slip-ons), they'll never win any fashion awards and their comfort only lasts for about 2 hours before my right foot starts threatening to grind its way up to my nasal cavity. (I have some sort of something or other on that heel that I've been meaning to get fixed since 1996, but the stupid doctor said I'd have to wear an orthopedic shoe on that foot for 6 weeks after the surgery and who wants to do that?) Anyway, I ignored my feet for another couple of hours after the outset of "the throb" until I'd reached the point of knocking some poor elderly woman out of her little motorized scooter. That's when I decided I'd better do something. By then, I was at J.C. Penney's so I headed to the shoe department. (Hey, I wasn't done with my therapy yet...I needed new shoes in order to continue). Well. As it turns out, they were having a bit of a sale. Buy one pair, get the second pair half off. And at their prices, that half off turned out to be fairly substantial. So I had no choice really. I bought two pair. And immediately put one pair on so that I could continue with my quest. I found Maddy Moose 3 more shirts and then I found one for myself. I loved it...thought it was bee-u-t-ful! So I bought it. Now we're at the point of the story (I told you I rambled, quit complaining!). I head on up to the check-out station (which, by the way, when did Penney's start doing an Old Navy type of check-out - you know, an entire row of registers, instead of the "register in every department" old way?). Anywho - the cashier dude, who had about 4 different colors in his hair and was wearing an argyle sweater over a funky pair of pants, took one look at me and the shirt I was buying and yelled "Wow! You ARE LOUD!", all the while laughing in what I considered to be a totally unprofessional manner. I mean really! This walking kaleidoscope was commenting on my fashion sense?? After I progressed past the urge to smack him around a little, I realized...he might have a point. There I was, wearing this shirt:
While carrying this bag (which is HUGE):
While purchasing this shirt:
Loud? Well...yeah. Maybe. I guess so. Oh all right! I know so. I think I may have become one of those older women that people point at in crowds. lol My BFF Susan always said I liked gaudy stuff and I guess she was right. Because I love the shirt I was wearing, I positively adore that purse and I'm pretty darn smitten with my new shirt, too. I have to confess...just the thought that there's people out there who would rather wear a burka than be caught wearing a shirt like the new one just makes me SMILE because damn, people! It's bright, it's happy and it feels GOOD to wear it. Take it from me! Stop pointing at oddballs and just become one (if wearing something like this is the new standard for "odd")! And there is one undeniable upside to dressing in things like this....Randey can always find me in a crowded room. We don't need no stinkin' cell phones, he just has to look up and he can spot me from a mile away! ha (Now stop smirking at my shirt, Susan, because I bought you one, too! ha,ha,ha,ha...okay, just kidding. Relax.)

So to celebrate my new-found realization that I am LOUD, I asked Randey and Jacob (Kaleb was working!) out to dinner at a Mongolian Grill (my gosh! talk about D-lish!). After dinner, we got our customary fortune cookies.

Randey's said "You will soon be awarded a great honor". Jake's said "Life is a series of choices. Today yours are good ones". Mine? Mine said "Your judgement (sic) is a little off at this time. Rely on friends". Rut-Row! Surely this isn't referring to my new shirt??????? Naaaaa. That'd just be freaky.

Finally, I'll finish this book...er, I mean post, with some pictures of Sydney the Wonder Dog. While I was shopping yesterday, I came across this little doggy bed for him. He already has a bed, but it's usually kept downstairs and I've long thought that he needed one for upstairs, too. And guess what...he loves it. That's the beauty of Sydney...he loves all his new toys and stuff and acts like it's the most wonderful thing in the world when he gets something new. Unlike my actual children, who have sometimes shown little or no appreciation for my choices in fashion, etc. that I've brought them. And no, before you even think it, I have never tried to make them wear clothes even remotely similar in color and/or shape to mine. Except for that one time when I bought Nick the green shirt and green pants. I thought they looked great. And my sister bought my nephew the same outfit, but in purple. So who do you think came out worse in that deal? Yeah, that's what I said. Nick should have been grateful green was my favorite color and not pink, right? Anywho...gaze upon this beautiful and perfect specimen of Chihuahua.

But look, after taking about 20 pictures, even Sydney seemed to be trying to hide his face from me. Go figure.
Okay. All done. I'm going to make a serious effort to not write posts this long in the future. Except for that tag I just got from Jennifer at Dust Bunny Hostage. Seven random things. Sheesh. I spill my guts on here all the time. Coming up with 7 things that you guys don't know about me is tough. I was supposed to do a tag of five things last month and couldn't come up with even that many. Seven may tax my "expression of the truth". In other words, I may have to resort to lying! lol

San Antonio Road Trip

I took a quick trip down to San Antonio the other day to visit with my sister, Sherri. She was there on business and it seemed like a good opportunity to spend a little time with her. The hotel we stayed in was a short walk down from the Riverwalk, which is where I spent most of Thursday. I think I managed to get some shin splints from walking so much! lol The Riverwalk area was very, very pretty and if you're ever there, I recommend walking it around 9:30 a.m. Not much is open before 10:00 (except Starbucks and a couple of places that serve breakfast), but it's wonderfully peaceful and quiet.
They have this lovely tree sitting out right in front of the entrance to the Riverwalk Mall.
And this is a view taken from one of the walkways spanning the water. Beautiful, isn't it? I want to go back with Randey. Sitting with Randey, sipping a latte while looking over the Riverwalk, sometime before all the hustle and bustle of the day begins, sounds like paradise to me. Anybody else know of any wonderfully peaceful and beautiful places to spend a few days with your dearly beloved? I think it's high time that Randey and I had a getaway all to ourselves with nothing better to do than relax. We've been saying that for years but haven't done anything about making it happen. Now's the time, though! Any recommendations?
Merry Christmas!

Edited to Add: Please do not recommend anything that requires FLYING! I can't do it. I just can't. I hyperventilate at the thought. I did fly to Pensacola when Conner was born, but that was an emergency and I had to get to Nick (and Jodie, of course!) as soon as possible. Flying for pleasure is just not an option for me. I used to love flying. Until I became a mother and realized that mortality is an actuality. (You know how crazy you can get when you first become a mom...things you never paid attention to before become glaringly obvious for some reason!). Anyway, maybe when Kaleb and Jacob are completely grown and out of the house and no longer dependant upon us for their entire way of life, I'll fly somewhere with Randey (not only am I afraid of flying, I'm also convinced that if Randey and I flew together now, our 2 youngest children would be orphans because the plane would crash. Yes. I know I'm mental. Knowing it doesn't help change it, however). So let's stick with locations easily accessible by ROAD, please. lol