Archive | January 2014

Grammy Recap

Photo: Rickey Yaneza

Photo: Rickey Yaneza

I’m not hip.

I’m not cool.

I’m not even “totes jelly” or whatever the kids are saying these days.

I’ve tried over the years.

I used to read People magazine every week cover to cover to stay up on all the goings on.  Sadly, I bought one recently and didn’t recognize half the “celebrities” in the whole book!!

I mean, I hadn’t even HEARD of them!!!

Where did these folks come from and where was I????

Oh yeah…..I was too cheap to buy a subscription and they sneaked by me!!

So this year I decided to do something I’ve never done in all my 40+ years of life.

I decided to watch the Grammy Awards.

Or “Grammys” to us movers and shakers!

I figured I would have somewhat of an advantage over the Mr. because I listen to pop music at work.  I don’t have a radio at my desk but I eavesdrop on my co-workers tunes.

So the program starts and I settle in to watch.

Beyonce was first up.

Good.

I’ve heard of her.

And I knew her husband was supposed to join her so I figured “what a wholesome, family-oriented way to start the show”.

I could not have been more wrong.

I’m here to tell you that there weren’t nothin’ wholesome OR family-oriented in that performance!!

There was Beyonce wearing barely any clothes and doing some sort of contortions on a kitchen chair.

What in this world?!?!?!?!?!?!

I wear more clothes than that in the SWIMMING POOL!!!

And that is NOT how we sit in a kitchen chair, young lady!!

The Mr. had wandered into the room during this display and finally asked “Do you like this?”

I said “I don’t understand one word she’s singing!!”

We turned it.

But I was determined to be “with it” so I eventually turned it back.

Finally, a song I recognized from the radio.

Have you ever heard someone speak or sing and when you actually SEE them, they are nothing like what you imagined???

Well, that’s how I felt when I watched this young 17-year-old girl sing her hit song while having what can only be described as an epileptic spell.

We turned it.

When the Mr. left the room for a snack, I turned back.

Pink.

I like Pink.

She’s got a good voice even if I don’t always like her lyrics.

And she was good……until she let some dude (who I don’t even know) sing with her and he ruined the whole thing.  Wow, was he bad.

The Mr. came back.

We turned it.

The next time I flipped it back, these two robot guys were coming onstage to accept an award.

Is there a category for robot guys???

These dudes apparently won Album of the Year.

ALBUM OF THE YEAR!

Of all the albums out there, these robot guys win for the best album of the whole ding-dong year!

Photo:  Getty via Just Jared

Photo: Getty

What is this world coming to???

And to top it off, their big hit was one I actually knew.

See, when I, the hippest hipster known to man, hear Daft Punk sing “Get Lucky” I think they are singing “Mexican monkey”, which actually is a better lyric.

{If you’ve never heard the song, don’t bother.  It’s filthy!}

Best album?

I think not!

And guess what?

We turned it.

Not one to give up easily, I gave the Grammys one last shot.

Just as I turned the channel back to the show, a rapper was doing his thing.  I have no idea who it was or what he was rapping about but all the Mr. heard was “my momma” and off that TV went!

The Mr. has a fast trigger finger!

But I guess the Mr. can’t leave a song (or rap) undone because he finished the rap himself.

I wish to goodness that I had recorded what came next but I was laughing so hard at the Mr.’s rap that I almost missed it entirely.

Here’s a paraphrase:

“My momma said, Boy your drinking too much

milk with your cereal so I flipped my bowl in her face

wrote down this song while she was hollerin’

hoping to make a million doller-in”

And since that was the best song/rap we had heard all night, we went to bed.

~Mish~

 

 

 

I Walk The Line

It’s a fine line you must walk on social media.

Whether you’re on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or on a blog, there are COUNTLESS ways to “offend”.  Especially in this day and age when everybody seems to be looking for a reason to be ticked off.

I try to be really careful with this here little blog so as not to cause anyone (other than myself, of course) any embarrassment or offense.  But sometimes it happens anyway.

Like last week.

I thought I had covered all my bases so as to not upset anyone with my words.

But I did anyway.

Sadly, there was not just the offense but apparently the injured party decided that retaliation was in order.

So I’d like to take this opportunity to sincerely apologize for any hurt feelings from last week’s blog post and ask from the bottom of my heart that I be forgiven for this transgression.

Honestly, though, when I wrote about my trials and tribulations, I had no idea that my hair would react in such a spiteful way.

And though I’m deeply sorry that my words caused distress, I really don’t see the need to act out in such an unreasonable way.

I mean, really????

Was this really necessary????

A big ole gray hair????

It was just a little story on the interweb.

But just to make sure there was no further issue, I didn’t dare pluck that silvery thing.

I mean, if my hair reacts so violently to a silly blog post, what would happen if I actually KILLED one of its own????

Let this be a lesson to all of you on social media….

Words matter!

~Mish~

 

My Mane Problem

My hair has plagued me my whole life.

It’s not that I don’t have enough.

I have plenty.

And it’s not even the color, which I think is mousey-brown though after all the coloring I’ve done to it, who really remembers??

The problem is that it is fine as can be and straight as a stick.

Oh, I’ve tried over the years to do something about it.

I’ve hot-rolled.

I’ve permed.

I’ve slept on pink sponge rollers.

I’ve teased to within an inch of its very life.

And, oh Heavenly Lord, the hairspray!!!!

I’ve even endured bobby pin curls in my hair and SLEPT ON THEM!!!

bobby pin curls

For the  record, there is no pain in the world like a mother jamming bobby pins in your head with absolutely no regard for your discomfort.

And how did those lovely curls turn out the next day????

Not curly at all.

Just a big ole frizzy mess.

Of course, it would have helped if Mom didn’t insist on brushing that head into a rats nest complete with pieces of hair that refused to curl and hung straight down from the fuzziness.

Attractive!

And oh yes, this was every year on school picture day!!

But all these attempts at hair control have been for naught.  After 46 years, I still struggle with my hair every single day and even contemplate calling in sick on some especially bad hair days.

And today was one of those days!

It’s one thing to go to work with bad hair but I’ve got plans for tonight.

I’m meeting a whole passel of cousins and aunts and female family members for a McLean Relative Ladies Night Out.  It’s gonna be big fun except that I have cousins with really good hair.  In fact, one of my cousins is actually my hair dresser.

Is that still a term people use???

Hair dresser?

Or is it hair stylist?

Whatever, Christi is my hair-fixer-upper and since I have yet to convince her to come to my house every morning to fixer-upper me, I’m left to face the cold, cruel world with whatever hairdo shows up.

But I’ve got to hand it to Christi.

Whenever she sees me, she’ll say “your hair looks good”.

I know deep down she’s thinking “Bless her heart” while sitting there with what must be the cutest hair on God’s green earth!

Oh well, once I spill food on my shirt, nobody will notice the hair! 🙂

~Mish~

 

 

SAFE!

sliding

Way back in the olden days of December, 2013, I went to a work conference, leaving the Mr. and Taj home alone to fend for themselves.  They did pretty good but I was anxious to get home.

The day I got back was a rainy ole day and my co-worker dropped me off at the house before the Mr. got home.  Taj was glad to see me and I was happy to be back home.

I barely got into the house, dropped my bags off in the entryway and fell on the couch for a little nap before the Mr. got home wondering what was for supper.

Besides……….I had shows to catch up on!!

While Taj & I were dozing, the doorbell rang.

Now, Taj is a pretty good little dog but nothing gets him more stirred up than the doorbell.

Unless it’s a dog walking by the house.

Or a bird on the windowsill.

Or a Pupperoni.

Or just about ANY food.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that dog when ballistic!!!!

Scared me right out of my skin!

Since it was Christmas time and I pride myself in ordering ALL my gifts online, I knew it was probably a mountain of packages.

So I waited for the delivery guy to drive away (he’s a ring-the-bell-and-walk-away kind of guy) then I headed to the side door where he usually leaves our stuff.

Nothing.

So I go to the front door.

Nothing.

That’s weird!!

Where are my packages????

I slipped on my shoes head out the door to see if I can find my ding-dong boxes.

I checked around the bushes.

I walked down the sidewalk to check around the chairs on the side porch.

As I’m heading back up the walk to the front door, I think…..GARAGE.

At this point its drizzling so I picked up my pace and headed toward the garage.

Unfortunately, being the graceful flower that I am (read that “bull in china shop”), my right foot only landed half on the walk.

Cue the slow motion…….

I tried to catch myself with one foot now on the grass and the other on the walk but I was moving way too fast (I’m so light on my feet, ya’ll) and I did kind of a cartoon wave of my arms as my upper body started over my lower half.

It was sort of a running airplane move that means only one thing:

She’s goin’ down!!!

Remember how I told you it was a rainy day?  Well, when I hit the ground, I slid a good way along the grass.

But it weren’t all grass!

It was MUD!!

When I finally landed, I was face down in the wet and mushy mud, too stunned to do anything but lay there.

Then I remembered my neighbors.

Since most of them are retired, I wondered how many of them were watching from their windows, Gladys-Kravitz-style.

But if they were, shame be upon every one of them ‘cause NOBODY came out to help me!!!

I got up and looked down at myself and saw that I was a muddy mess:

 IMG_20131205_162203

 

And after 5 washes, I still can’t get the mud out of that pink blouse!  😦

I’ve always wondered what could make a grown man playing baseball slide head first into home plate.  After doing it myself, I’ve gotta say, I’m stumped.

Not only do you get filthy dirty……

It HURTS!!!!

~Mish~

Et tu, Jimmy?

What a crazy month December was!

Not crazy crazy (or as the youngun’s say “cray cray”) but just crazy.

Busy crazy.

We’ve had birthdays and anniversaries, parties and visitors, Christmas and New Year’s, New York and county clubs.

All in one short little month.

And boy, are my arms tired!

Oh but that’s a story for another day.

Today I want to tell you about how Jimmy tried to kill me.

Yes, I know, I have all sorts of conspiracies about all manner of different people who have tried to kill me but this one happens to be true!

The day after Christmas, the Mr. and I headed off to the Wonderful World of the Snow People (aka Western NY).  We did ok on the traveling part but I became concerned that every few hours Andrew would text me “have you seen any snow yet?”.  That should have been the first clue to turn that buggy around!!!

But, alas, the Mr. ain’t sceared of no snow, so onward and upward!

Around Erie, PA, I felt the need to make a pit stop but since it was starting to flurry I decided I didn’t want to stop.  I could make it.

Then we crossed the state line into NY and all manor of heck broke loose!!!

It was a complete and utter whiteout and when traffic on the interstate slowed down to 20 mph, I began the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth that goes with my terrible decision to NOT STOP IN ERIE PA!!!

But we finally made it to my in-laws and after a rather flimsy “howdy-do” I ran (shoes and all) into the powder room just in the nick of time!

We had a great visit with the kids and the in-laws and the nieces and the Fierce’s and I think, I THINK, I may have even agreed to host a “Cousin’s Camp” this summer for my 5 nieces.

I apparently was a little drunk on Mt. Dew at the time so it’s all a bit hazy.

With a good visit warming our hearts, we headed back to God’s Country and had only a slight issue with a snow storm in Ohio.  Mistake-on-the-Lake indeed!

But “home again, home again, jiggety-jog”.

After years of traveling with the Mr., I finally bent to his way of thinking and immediately unpacked all our bags FIRST THING and then was ready to veg in front of the TV with our Taj, who stayed behind with my parents.  Side note:  it did NOT go well.

Of course, that brings up the question…..what we gonna eat????

Since we had no food in the house and since I wouldn’t have wanted to cook it even if we had it, I suggested one of our go-to places:  Jimmy Johns.  They have good subs and they deliver it right to the house really fast.

Easy-peasy.

So Monday night, I go to bed feeling just fine and dandy and super excited that I had two more days off ahead of me.

Then I woke up.

I’m not sure what time it was but I believe it was around 1:30 am.

Wow, was my tummy hurting.

So I stumble to the potty.

I get back to bed and fall immediately back to sleep.

I’m awake again.

Now what????

Same pain.  Same tummy.

Once again, I head back to the bathroom but this time I couldn’t decide whether to sit or lean over the bowl.

This is NOT a good situation!

I sit and suddenly I felt light headed.

My head was swimming.

My eyes were tunneling.

All I could think of was “This is it.  This is how I’m going to die”

So I did the only thing I could do.

I started to plead to the Almighty to PLEASE hold me up on that toilet and PLEASE don’t let me fall off and hit my head and PLEASE don’t let paramedics find my corpse in this predicament!!!

You know……the usual stuff.

I finally figured out that I needed to finish up as fast as possible and lower myself from my seated position on the stool to the floor without killing myself in the process.

After lying on the cold floor for a while, I was able to get back up and fling myself into bed.

This is when the Mr. wakes up.

“Are you ok?”

“No, I’m sick.”

“Flu?”

“Jimmy.”

Then the room goes quiet.

I think he’s fallen back to sleep.

Then….

“Who were you talking to in there?????”

Oh, I see.

You thought I was praying silently.

How silly of you!!

Happy New Year, ya’ll.

And steer clear of Jimmy!! 🙂

~Mish~