Sour Balls and Panty Lines

Today I had coffee ready when I woke up, so big improvement.

I wore a pair of slacks that are a bit too big for me, so they grabbed on to my panty lines and would Not. Let. Go. There is nothing a Fortune 500 company loves more than employees walking around showing everyone the outlines of their hipsters. #professionalFail

Both Oldest and Youngest Daughters are in the high school musical, The Music Man, and they had a performance today for the 8th graders, sort of a soft opening. The challenge is that I work full time, and it’s about a 20-30 minute drive from work, depending on traffic. A lovely, wonderful woman I know offered to pick YD up from elementary school at 9:30 a.m. to get her over to the high school on time for the performance, saving me about an hour and a half from being gone from work. Little things mean a lot. And she bought YD a smoothie from Dunn Bros, so double bonus.

The Son is in 8th grade, and he gave the whole thing two thumbs up, said it’s a good show. Opening night is tomorrow, can’t wait! I get a little nervous, not only for the girls and for the show, but also because I’m around a bunch of grown ups, and I tend to put my foot in my mouth in public. It’s a problem. I actually have to rehearse things in my head to say to people so I don’t say things like, “Oh my gosh, I love your hooker shoes!” which I’ve actually said to someone and immediately got put on her shit list. I don’t blame her, they were $300 shoes. You’ve got to turn a LOT of tricks to buy $300 shoes. Or maybe just one, if you’re good.

When I got home from work, I asked YD how the show went, and she said, “Fine, can you buy me some sour cherry balls?” I was a little appalled – um, how about you answer my question without asking for things? But then they were stuck in my head. Cherry balls, cherry balls, cherry balls…


So of course, when I went out to take The Son to basketball, I bought some cherry balls.

I also went to Sams and bought $400 worth of concession food for the musical, which I’m hauling around in my van. I hope it doesn’t get too hot tomorrow, because I’ve heard that M&Ms don’t melt in your hand, but might in a van on a 60 degree day. Enjoy your chocolate sauce in a bag, fine arts patrons!

Stepping back a bit – tonight when I drove home from work, I saw a motorcycle accident. The southbound traffic on the interstate was backed up quite a ways, and the police had just arrived on the scene. The motorcyclist was on the ground, and three people were around him giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I passed the ambulance heading that way a few minutes later. First, prayers to that man and his family, I hope it ended up okay. Second, hello perspective check. If panty lines are the worst thing that happened today, I came out okay.




A Day in the Wife

Hello, Gentle Readers

The four or five of you who read the blog when it isn’t about Iowa State have probably noticed that I’ve been lax in posting of late. To be honest, I’ve felt a little bit, for lack of a better term, cock-blocked in my writing. There are entertaining things that happen every day, that I think most of you would get a kick out of, but if it’s about any of the schools, quite a few teachers read the blog, and they might get offended. Or call the DHS, because they are mandatory reporters. If I write about family, my family reads it. If I write about work, work people or their spouses read it. If I write about my kids, some of their friends’ parents, OR WORSE, their friends, may read it. I once pissed off one of my neighbors by writing about the feral cats. Years ago, I pissed off a PTA person by writing about a PTA event. I’ve pissed off in-laws, friends, and people who apparently hate Gwyneth Paltrow. Because I give my opinion about things, and as Abraham Lincoln once said, “…you can’t please all of the people all ¬†of the time.”

*sigh* DON’T I EFFING KNOW IT, ABE. Word. Read more…

George as Prom Queen

Today, I gave the kids a summer project – at all costs, win the regional Standard Poodle dog grooming contest.

Crazy Dog Grooming Competition

Because what family wouldn’t be proud to own not only a dog, but a piece of art? Read more…

The WOOT Girl

You know the whole concept of the “perfect storm”?

Well tonight, I’m hours, maybe minutes, away from getting my shark week early, AGAIN, and we’ve been to a family funeral this week and driven a whole lot of miles and I’m tired and then tonight I took Current Husband to see Martin Sexton (and if you haven’t seen him , SERIOUSLY, what the hell, he is amazingballs) for his Valentine’s Day gift, except that he didn’t drink and I did and then I was the WOOT girl, who goes WOOT during every song and makes it about her, and at one point I was clapping and he made me stop because he said I was clapping waaaayyy off rhythm, and our friends were all laughing at me but I don’t care because I was having THEBESTTIMEEVERSOMUCHFUN.

Perfect storm. Happy I didn’t get arrested. And I had a designated driver.

Here is a video of Martin Sexton singing my fave song of his, Can’t Stop Thinkin’ Bout You, with John Mayer:

And now I’m home.

And it’s 11:11 p.m. (make a wish!) and I have to get up at 6:15 to make lunches and get everyone off to orchestra and student council and get to work, and ouch is that ever going to hurt.

And then?


Here is Fred Hoiberg dancing to New York State of Mind.Because he is awesome like that. And still maintains his “Punching Man” like a 20-year-old:

Here is a small video about how awesome Iowa State is and why you should send your kids there:

And I will be at Buffalo Wild Wings at 5:20 to hold down a table for 12 for our group of crazies, many of whom witnessed me being the WOOT girl tonight, so we can cheer our Cyclones on to Huskie dream-killing.


AND LISTEN TO MARTIN SEXTON. Because he is amazingballs. Said it twice in a post. Thus concludes my use of that word forever.