Bow down- it's my Birthday!

Today is my actual Birthday, yes today is the day that my parents finally got their dream daughter and today is the day that the evil (step)-sisters RUE.

Actually, middle sister says she remembers going to the hospital and looking at me through the glass, she says she asked our Dad "why is she so red and why won't she stop screaming?" That's all she remembers.

Last night we ordered Chinese take out, as I had no desire to cook, it was amazing and everyone overate BIG TIME. I went to bed not feeling well. A little after midnight I was dreaming about Birthday cake, in the dream I was saying "No, Thank you"

Really, me, turning down a piece of cake, they kept on insisting, EAT SOME, EAT SOME! I bolted up, out of my slumber, ran to the bathroom and *BLAAAAAAAAHHHHHH* out came all the Chinese food. Well, not all because I spent the rest of the night sitting on the toilet. Lovely, right? I bet you weren't expecting that mental image in my Birthday post.

I had to drag myself to work today, as the receptionist is out sick, needless to say I have canceled my B-day lunch with girlfriends and my B-day dinner with the Hubs and kids.

I have to tell you the the gifts I got at my party totally represent who I am as a person:

• Gift Certificate to Victoria's Secret
• Bath Products
• Yankee Candle with gorgeous holder
• Super Fun Jewelry
• Hand crafted glycerin soaps with cherries in them
• Hooters Gift Certificates

Really what else could a woman ask for?

I have began pondering next years Birthday party and I am pretty sure I am going to kick the Hairys and the Hubs out of the house and have a SLUMBER PARTY! Seriously, this may be the best idea ever!!!

Now everybody SCREAM

Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention!

My Suprise Birthday Party- which I planned

Just by reading this blog you can probably tell I'm the kind of girl that likes to party. Just a little, and only once in a while *HA*

The insanity started when I turned 30, I decided that I wanted to throw myself a party. I didn't need the HUBS to do it, or anyone else. My philosophy has long been: If you want flowers, plant a garden. If you want a Birthday Party, throw one for yourself, don't sit around on your ass hopping your man is gonna grow a Woman's brain and throw you a surprise party with all the trimmings! Girl, please, do it for yourself!

Every year, it got bigger and bigger, people would start calling me the first week of February asking " What's the plan for your B-day?"

Then we moved to Orlando, and well, I didn't really know too many people, finally after 3 years, I figured I had enough friends to have a proper party. I set the date with the girls and then started planning away. I did NOT inform the HUBS. Hence the SURPRISE portion of the Party.

Why? Well, the HUBS has a strong OGRE gene in him, and he is at his core a hermit. So social events are not his thing (my exact opposite) He does not like for people to sing Happy Birthday to him and would kill me if I ever did in public. I on the other hand, relish all attention and suffer for that terrible sickness "EVERYONE MUST LOVE ME!" syndrome.

One week before the party he was informed we were going out to celebrate my Birthday on the 20 (my actual B-day is 2/25, take note) with some friends at a local bar/nightclub (which is a tourist trap and the most chessy fun ever!)

The party planning started getting a little out of control. First I devised a theme- hmmm, it was either Hello Kitty (shut up, you know you love her too) or Cherries. Cherries, it was...what kind of a theme is Cherries? Well, I got balloons with Cherries on them, we all drank Cherry Bombs (cherry vodka/red bull and maraschinos cherries) I wore my fabulous cherry jewelry, and got cherries painted on my nails, all so cute! Now the piece de resistance of course was the cake:

Two days before the party the Hubs was informed that many people had been invited and there were decorations involved. He just looked at me. The strategy worked. He was fine with it, if I would have informed him 2 weeks prior, I could have faced weeks of complaining, and moaning and groaning about the huge social commitment, blah, blah, blah.

Now the funniest part of all, it that the HUBS complains before hand, but is always the person who has the most fun and sings Happy Birthday...it's like pre-party jitters.

Here he is yucking it up with his pals.

And her I am with my partner in crime, who helped and did all the pre-party set up.

The Best Commercial Ever

I Love me some Shani Davis

I love me some Shani Davis, I mean really, could he be an cuter?

Could he be more adorable? An inner- city kid from Chi-town, raised by a single Mom!

Love IT! However, all I could think about all night last was:


HONEY, where is my suit?

You tell me WHERE MY SUIT IS WOMAN!

Is that WRONG?

OH! Also, BOGO is going on at Payless, so yesterday I went to Dillard's and bought 2 pairs of RED shoes, some AWESOME Steve Madden suede retro pumps with a ruffle, freaking ADORABLE, and some HOT ASS BCBG strappy sandals totally bejeweled out, with gold metal heels, MUY CALIENTE Floozy shoes!

*FYI- if you have not red my blog before, I tell my husband I buy my shoes at Payless when BOGO is going on, so he thinks they are CHEAP, which means I have to buy then 2 at a time!

How long has your hair been dirty?

My youngest recently had surgery on his left wrist, and since he has hair like Lady Godiva, it was impossible for him to wash his own hair with one hand.

How do I know this? Because I have arthritis in my left shoulder and when I had my surgery my husband had to get in the shower and wash my hair for me...at first he was excited because he thought he was going to get lucky. Yeah right, after that didn't happen he was just kind of annoyed.

I explained this to my hairy son, and he scoffed. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday all went by, well you get the picture, Sunday night Lady Godiva comes to me and says: Mom, you gotta wash my hair.
Next was the logistics of the situation, how would this be accomplished? after all he is 17 and I have not seen him naked in YEARS. He hatched a plan, he would don his swimming trunks and get in the shower and get soaking wet. Then I would get in, fully clothed, with the water off and wash his hair. Then I would get out, he would rinse, remove trunks and wash his nether regions.

So Sunday night I get in the shower and grab the shampoo to wash his hair.

He goes: MOM! What are you doing?

me- washing your stinky hair.

Lady G- why are you using the shampoo?

me- to get it clean.

Lady G- You're doing it WRONG, the conditioner goes first, then the shampoo.

me- WHAT!?! Have you never read the bottle? Shampoo rinse repeat, follow with conditioner.

Lady G- you are the one who told me to use Conditioner first!

me- why would I do that, you're nuts, that hair is growing into your brain. How long have you been doing that?

Lady G- FOREVER

HUBS pops his head in the bathroom- What is going on in there? How long is this going to take?

And so I discovered that my son has not washed his hair properly in at least 10 years!

one conversation

Daughter- OK, Mom I'm leaving now...I have to go pick up some stuff at the Superstore.

Mother- OH! I need you to get me something, OK? I need you to buy me some bloomers.

Daughter- Fine Mom, what kind would you like me to get you.

Mother- Oh, you know. Cotton, no frills, big ones, like Grandma under wear.

Daughter- Wow, considering you are a 70 something Grandma, I guess your g-string days are over, huh?

Mother- Oh, not really, just for now.

12 year old grand daughter- AHHHHHHHHHHH! Grandma!

Spanx, not NEW to Fat girls

Look, it's really annoying to hear these skinny bitches go on and on about Spanx and how they are the best thing ever, and BLAH, BLAH, BLAH- that what I hear when skinny bitches bitch and moan about like the one little ripple on their skinny asses.

*exhale* OK, moving on. Spanx, SHMANX! This is nothing new, it's called Panty girdles, and honey I have been wearing 'em since I was 13. No shit, for real. Look, I have no shame in telling you I have owned at least one of the following in my life time,in black, white and nude... aw hell, I'm gonna have to go and find some pictures on-line and post them, because I know you skinny bitches reading aren't even going to know what I am talking about!

These are here on a technicality, because really, they are really just called a GOOD pair of UNDERWEAR, OK?

Now, you all know how much I LOVE to drink, and well, not only my love for it, but the fact that many times, I can have just a little too much. Now, combine this with the deep love I have of dancing my ass off, most notable when i am tipsy.

Let's recap- drunk girdle wearing fatty + sweat + drunkenness = A HELL OF A TIME IN THE POTTY!

Now, when you gotta go, you gotta go, girl, you will rip that crap down faster than you would if Jason Statham was standing in front of you saying "Come on baby, let's go" *hee*hee*

This is Jason Statham, my# 1 boyfriend, I watch all his movies, even the REALLY crappy ones.

However, once you have relieved yourself, whilst hovering over toilet (I hope you ladies have as impeccable aim as I do drunk, or clean up after your drunk selves)- the pulling up part becomes a problem. If you happened to be accompanied by a TRUE friend, who is some what more sober than you are, there is no shame in calling her ass into help you.

The rubber and spandex has rolled up tighter than a... well let's just say tight, and your thighs are sweaty and you might have gotten some acrylic nails to detract from your second chin...well, let's put it this way: Many a cleaning crew have found undergarments of mine stuffed in the garbage at Bars all across this nation. Because really, once your drunk, who cares if you got a roll hanging out!

I will say one thing, Spanx has sure made those suckers go down in price, I have paid up to $100 for a decent head to toe fat sucker inner- WAIT! OMG, I bet if I sent one to Lady GAGA she would so wear it as a fashion statement.

Anyway, when I was super broke and needed some extra support on my thighs and ass, I would simply cut the feet of some panty hose and wear them under my pants, works wonders ladies.

If you are a Southern Girl or Hispanic you will know what I'm talking about, because all your Mama's wear these.

Oh my Dog, I just remembered the worst drunk panty girdle story of all time, I must meditate on weather I am able to disclose or not...I know I should have left this crap anonymous!

Lost, so lost

We are family addicted to LOST, and by family I mean, my sisters, their husbands, my nieces and nephews, my kids, and of course my Mom.

One of the funniest moments when she was in the hospital, came via Lost. Everyday we would cringe when she was not sure what day it was, what city she was in, thinking the male nurse was her friend form the University of Maryland in 1976, yeah, crazy ass confusion.

One afternoon I am visiting and I find a re-run of Lost on TV, knowing she loves it, I leave it on and start working on some reports for works while my Mom is watching. Suddenly she says "Ooooohhh, it's Penny" ssssssscheeeeeeech! WTF?! She knew exaclty who Penny was a goes on to tell me about Penny and Desmond, and her horrible father Charles Widemore. Yeah, that was CRAZY.

When we got her home to Guatemala, my sister brought over the boxed sets of Lost and we watched a couple of episode every night.

Every night she would ask- Who do you like better the Doctor or Sawyer? (only in Spanish so she would call him El Doctorsito) In Spanish you and an "ito" on the end of things to make them diminutive or a term of endearment. Amor become Amorsito, like baby talk.

Every night I would answer: That's a tough one Mom. I mean that's why I love Lost so much. One week Sayid is my favorite hottie, next week it's Jack, then I loved me some Mr. Echo, and sometimes I love Kim.

Mom interjects- Oh yes, very handsome Korean man.

I finish: but when it comes down to it Mom, I'm a sucker for the Bad boys....so I gotta to say Sawyer.

Mom says, me too, I like Lost, it's like a United Color of Benetton of good looking men!

I must agree EYE CANDY of all my favorite manly FLAVORS!

Books, real books, not on an eletronic thingy

I love books. I really do.

As I was lounging at my sister's beach house in Guatemala, my brother in law was enjoying his Christmas gift, a Kindle. He kept going on and on about how awesome it was. Finally, I shifted on the lounger and said "You're probably reading some techie shit on it!" He was. He laughed, I knew it probably involved Math and Business theory and God only knows what else. I happily lugged 2 books with me to Guatemala (Slam & You Suck!) both hilarious, and then read 2 of my Mom's books (History of a Face & The Bookseller of Kabul) both depressing, balanced diet people!

I explained to him why the Kindle so disturbs me. I love books. I love the way they smell and the different textures different papers have to them. I love writing my name in the front cover and reading the back cover, as well as the pages that list all the other books the author has written. I never fold a page over to hold my place, EVER. I am sure I would pull several strands of y hair and use them as a bookmark before I did that. I love how the pages yellow, how after you have read it a million times, the glue starts to give and pages come loose, so you read it one more time before the books falls apart. I love loaning out my books, even if months later when I want to re-read that particular book I can't even remember who I lent it to: Confederacy of Dunces, A Dirty Job...come back to me, I need you!

I then informed him that I only read fiction, no self help crap, of stuff that would help me at work or marketing nonsense! I read because I love to read, the way I love to watch TV, it entertains me. If if is Historical Fiction, well, then HELL maybe I will learn something.

Last night, my eldest son shows me two brand new books he had bought: Fight Club and Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. My reaction was: Why did you buy them new?! You can get them so cheap on Amazon!

His answer- I like to be the one to make the first crease on the front cover!

Wow, sounded like my rant! Of course, we do the same thing, we read a book we like by and author and then read everything he ever wrote.

I really love books, the have played such a giant part in my life.

I can hear my mother reading Where the Wild things are to me, remember begging her to read Madeline and Harold with the Purple Crayon.

I can feel the cold linoleum under my legs as I lay on the kitchen floor as my mother makes dinner reading Amelia Bedelia.

Giggling under my cover reading with a flashlight, just having to finish one more chapter of Tale of a Fourth Grade Nothing.

Crying for the first time reading a book, we were on a family vacation and was sitting in the back seat finishing Across Five April's.

Then there was A Catcher in the Rye, I just wanted to crawl in the book and live there.

By the time I was got my reading list for the first semester in College I had read ever single book on it, at least once (really 1984 was on the list!) Well, no worries as I did not make it to college, sidetracked into the shotgun wedding and the hubs and the now Fight Club book lover.

But, something better happened that year anyway. The Hubs "Ingles" was not all that, so I decided to start him on reading books in English before we move to the States to expand his vocab.

First assignment- Animal Farm- loved it. All out of my own collection- Of Mice and Men, Lord of the Flies, A Separate Peace, Brave New World, 1984, The Hobbit- loved them all. I hand over Kafka "The Metamorphosis", he's ready. Couple of hours later I hear- WTF!?!

He comes to me "I don't like this book. It's ridiculous. The guy is becoming a roach!" We go over symbolism. He gets it, reads the whole book that night and loved it.

My whole life I had taken for granted that someone sat and read to me, that someone bought books for me and gorgeous books marks, and spoke with me about those books and the meaning in them and that those books had made me far wiser than any 18 year old girl I knew. In fact wise enough to be able to get married and have a child and not go insane by 19. However, a safe sex book (with condoms as a bookmark) might have been a good book to have gotten me to, but oh, well.

Teaching your children to read is a necessity, if you don't do it, school will. Teaching you children to LOVE books, to think when they read, to be excited to get their little hands on a new book, that is a GIFT.

Thanks Mom!