Who's Honking?

Awww ya, it's Friday morning. Everyone is eager to get to work, get 5:00 here as quickly as possible and start the weekend. Even my goats at home were jumping around and playing this morning! I successfully drop the kid off at school and make my way to town.
Nothing is worse than being stuck on a 2lane highway behind 8-10 cars being led by one lil' ole slowpoke going 40. I mean, don't they KNOW its Friday? And this particular several mile stretch of road has very few places where one can pass said slowpoke. So basically, everyone is screwed. Sit back, turn on the radio cuz you ain't goin' nowhere!

(Heh Heh) That slowpoke, folks, was me. That's right. My poor truck is barely limpin' on its last leg. It will only go so fast and I dare not push it to the max. I have to make it last as long as it can. I managed to rack up nearly a dozen cars behind me this morning.
I even got a honk. Not one of those "Hey baby, how YOU doin?" kind of honks. More like one of those "Get that peace of shit out the way beotch!" kind of honks. Complete with mouth movements and I think an even eye roll. I am sure there was a hand gesture or two but I was trying to concentrate on the road. I did NOT want to veer off to the shoulder at such a high rate of speed.

Hope your drive was quicker than theirs this morning. Nothin' jacks up one's day more than being almost late for work becuase of traffic. (heh heh)
Enjoy your weekend!

Future Ladies Man?

There he is folks, CB in all his seven year old glory. And his new haircut. He informed me last night that he now has a girlfriend. She happens to be his teacher's daughter. Who is in the same class. So what I am trying to figure out is what do 7 yr old bf/gf's do? Share candy? Pick each other's boogers? There is no way I am ready for any of this. I have a sudden urge to go buy him footie pajamas with little bears on them and make him some chocolate milk in a sippy cup.
wwaaaaa!!!

Sorta Glowy-ish

See that? Thats not stockings. Or trouser socks. No sirreee, those are my unsunned, veiny, semi-seethru feet. You can only image what the rest of the leg looks like.

I'm going with...."dayglo".

I am what you might call transparent. Well, my "natural" is. In other words, after this gal has not seen sunshine in months, my God-given skin tone is pale. Very pale. You can pick an arm or boob, see a vein and basically follow its path throughout my entire body. My son, unfortunately, is also transparent. Bless his heart, from his face to his chest, eyelids and all are veiny.

I know, I know. Sun is bad. UV rays, melanoma, and so forth. My makeup has sunscreen in it, as does my moisturizer. Being that I'm (cough cough) aging, I would like to NOT speed up the wrinkling. And I wear sunscreen on my body as well. But ladies and gentleman, I am in dire needs of some UV. This girl neeeeeds some Vitamin D. I am counting the minutes until a few hours of warm sun arrive. And you can bet I will be laying on my deck in my underwear. Well, my bra really since my boobs have outgrown every bathing suit top I own and the new super-cute one I got on clearance for $6.99 (!) won't hold them either.

Mississippi has not seen much of a winter this year. And I really don't mind the cold so much anymore. But my bones are pleading for a warm sunny day, or two.

Other than me complaining about wanting sun, this post is pretty much over. No wisdom, no fantastic insight. This is why this blog is not titled "Very Interesting Life of a Fantastick Woman".

I am however, still worried about my husband. Or maybe HE should be worried about his own safety. About a week ago he told me I was wierd. Just this past weekend, he informed me I am OCD to the point of almost needing to be medicated. Whaaaa? Pffft!

Is One Leg Shorter?

When my granpa was a child he was hit by a car, drug nearly a mile and was battered, bruised, skull peeled back. As a man he grew to be 6'7" and the only signs of his childhood injury were he had a droopy eyelid, which he taped up daily so that he could see, and he had to have special shoes made because one leg was much longer than the other. He wore a lift shoe.
The point to telling you all this? Skechers Shape-Ups - yea, they are basically lift shoes. They only make short people look taller and otherwise rediculous. When I see them - which is horrifyingly EVERYWHERE - I think of my granpa with his black lift shoe on preaching on Sunday morning.
I have also yet to see a thin hot chick or guy wear these. I'm pretty sure they do not serve a purpose except making the company money and making people taller.

Pfft!

My husband told me approximately 6 days ago that I was wierd.

So I'm wondering (yes, still, 6 days later) if maybe he is realizing just how fabulous my uniqueness really is.

Or if, after 8 years of marriage (well, 8 years next month) he if starting to freak out about who he married. Does "wierd" really mean semi-impossible to live with? Does it mean I induce feelings of wanting to strangle oneself? Or even induce uncontrollable eye-rolling and unbearable waves of nausea?

Well. Shit. Regardless, he's stuck with it. Tough titty said the kitty.

Fantastic weekend wishes to you all! Peace & hair grease......