Gigglesnort of the week

Mondays are rapidly becoming work avoidance days, so I’m getting caught up on my to do list from yesterday.

Many of you are asking, “WTF is a gigglesnort? A lot of my friends can tell you just exactly what it is. A gigglesnort is something that is so amazingly funny, so outrageously funny, so laugh-out-loud funny that it causes me to snort. And it’s no itty bitty snort that leaves you wondering whether or not you really heard it. It’s loud. There’s no mistaking EXACTLY what is and EXACTLY where it’s coming from (i.e. me). And I want to share the things that make me gigglesnort (or come really close to it). Cuz I don’t wanna be alone. I KNOW there is someone else out there that will react just as I do. You know who you are.

So to start it all off an email I received this past week from a friend:

A professor at the University of North Carolina was giving a lecture on ‘Involuntary Muscular Contractions’ to his first year medical students. Realizing this was not the most riveting subject, the professor decided to lighten the mood slightly. He pointed to a young woman in the front row and asked, “Do you know what your asshole is doing while you’re having an orgasm?” She replied, “Probably deer hunting with his buddies.”

It took 45 minutes to restore order in the classroom.

Disclaimer: I did some research so that I could properly credit the source, but did not find it at the time this was posted. If anyone comes across it, let me know and I will update this post. Thank you!

Countdown to New Moon

My friend Jamie bugged me forEVER to read the Twilight series. Every time I saw her, she asked if I started reading the books yet. Every. Time. And quite a few others I knew were reading the books too. So, finally, I indulged my friend. And then I wanted to bitchslap her cuz I was hooked. Damn her! LOL So now I’m a fan of the Twilight series. I LOVE those books!

Twilight the movie wasn’t as good as the book, but I liked it. Jamie and I saw it together, of course. I am even looking forward to the New Moon movie in theaters November 20th. And I LOVE this New Moon movie poster! Jacob (Taylor Lautner) is freakin HAWT! I grabbed the movie countdown (conveniently on the movie poster I love) from Stephenie Meyer’s New Moon movie website and you can grab it too.

I need to call Jamie so we can make plans to see the movie together.

My mood at the beginning of the evening would have fit in better at a 2 Live Crew show instead of a Rick Springfield show.

Well, I just finished my homework, so let’s see if I can downshift and talk about this weekend. I know there are some curious minds out there. Now, it’s entirely possible that this will make sense to no one else but me. And I will not be in the least offended if you run screaming from this post. LOL

Last Friday is the Rick Springfield concert in Wendover. The show starts at 8pm and the trip takes 2 hrs from our house(especially going down Bangerter). I plan to leave home around 5 pm to allow time for motel check-in and maybe food (big maybe). The husband leaves work at Noon to take our daughter to stay with his mother. Even with travel time, he has plenty of time to get ready. I leave work at 4pm, like I planned, cuz I can’t take the day off or leave much earlier than that. I plan to dress casual, cuz it’s not Vegas people. It’s just Wendover. But I want to fix my hair and makeup a little, though. Anyone who really knows me knows that I didn’t already have my hair and makeup done for work. And I still need to pack a few things. I get home to find the husband dressing up. And I’m all, “You don’t need to dress up. I’m not.” He says he wants to dress a little nicer. Fine. Whatever. I pack my stuff in the suitcase and all that’s left is to change my top and fix my hair/makeup. Husband says he thought about going to the bank, but didn’t actually do it cuz we can stop by on the way out of town. That makes no sense to me since he left work more than 4 hours ago, but fine. Whatever. He then remarks that he didn’t realize this was a dress rehearsal. And I’m all, “Dress rehearsal? WTH is that supposed to mean?” And he says nevermind, which of course pisses me off. So when he does finally answer me, it’s a derogatory remark about me wanting to make myself look a little nicer. And I’m all, WTF? You’re dressing up and you can’t understand why I wanna do my hair and put on some makeup? You left work when? And you couldn’t bother to stop by the bank to save us some time? Seriously? Ok, so that was all in my head, but still. I was pissed. So I go into the bathroom (slamming the door for the desired effect) and realize that there’s no time to do my hair or makeup. That’s just great. Thankyouverymuch. I throw my hair up in a ponytail and come out of the bathroom to start throwing my last few things together. Maybe I’ll have some time once we get there to put some makeup on. I tell the husband that I’m upset about not doing anything wrong, but yet being made to feel really small for needing to do a few things. The husband then decides to tell me to go by myself and to have a good time. I NEED to have a good time by myself, he says. And I’m all, “Absolutely not! I’m not going to give you an opportunity to throw it back in my face later that I was a bitch who kept you from going to this concert! You’re going!” I may not speak to you for the entire trip, but you are FUCKING GOING! Ok, so that last part was an exaggeration. I grab everything except his CPAP and stomp down the stairs. The husband is behind me mumbling how I’m stubborn for not letting him carry anything. And I’m thinking, Dood, you just need to shut the hell up and get in the damn car before I change my mind! I throw everything in the car. And realize I’m starving. I know I won’t be eating before the show and I WILL be drinking. A LOT. That’s a given at this point. So I search the pantry for something to eat and the husband asks if I want yogurt. And I’m all, “Yogurt? And exactly how am I supposed to eat that?” He says with a spoon. And I’m all, “Seriously? While I’m driving?” Cuz I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let YOU drive! We get on the road and he doesn’t say a word. Not one. For like 30 minutes. And I’m thinking, Dood, you are SO not helping your case. He finally apologizes, and for once it actually sounded sincere (Long story. Really REALLY long story.). And he offers to drive so I can get ready. No way I’m letting him drive when we’re in a time crunch. HELL no. So we settle into a slightly less awkward silence for a while, which is just fine by me.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until the last 30 miles or so, which is where we encounter a bunch of drivers that are freakin’ STOOPID. They have no idea of how to drive on a two-lane highway (hint: YOU DON’T CAMP YOUR ASS IN THE LEFT LANE! I’m just sayin.). My tolerance on the road is…oohh…zero. Zilch. Nada. Especially now. So, to get away from them, I end up doing 100 the rest of the way to Wendover. The husband looks over at one point, and I’m all, “Yes, I AM doing a hundred!” Just stay on your side of the car. You’re still on my shitlist! Ok, so I only really said that first part. But the rest was on the tip of my tongue, I promise you.

Capping off the night? The motel. I have a reservation, but there’s a delay checking in. The desk clerk goes to get someone’s help. Oh shit. This other person comes out and says that the reservation was cancelled. Ummmmm, I didn’t cancel my reservation. The new clerk says they have one room available (a suite) that’s $129.95. Ummmm, I STILL didn’t cancel my reservation that was booked at $60. She says they’ll get it fixed. She calls customer service who tells her they cancelled the reservation per a phone call on 9/6/09. Ummmm, oooook. I supposedly called to cancel my reservation that I made ONLINE and no one thought to send me a confirmation ONLINE that it was cancelled? Sure, I totally get that. I do it all the time. Amazingly, I stay calm (I have NO idea how at this point). The clerk says they’ll fix it and gets us a room. I’m all, Didn’t you just say that you only had one room? Sweet, we’re gettin the suite? Niiiice! Oh, we’re getting a regular room? Fine. I’ll take it. We’re running out of time before the show starts, so I don’t fucking care anymore. I just want a place to sleep tonight. Wait! Didn’t you just say that you only had one room left?

We head straight to the concert hall after that and I’m so close to spewing forth the slew of 4-letter words I’ve been bottling up for the past 2 hours. Ask Twitter. I’ve got just enough time to throw on some mascara before the concert. And with a wave of that magic wand, I’m transformed into Princess Cinderella who gets swept off her feet by Prince Charming. Ok, so maybe it wasn’t quite that magical. Rick never got anywhere near me. But I got to see a great show.

And I can’t believe it just took me 3 hours to write this. I was reliving it… real-time. Great.

My 1st Girl Talk Thursday

What kind of undergarments do you wear? Panties? Bra? Underoos?
I think this topic is a brilliant way to start participating in Girl Talk Thursday, don’t you? Sadly, it will be pretty short cuz I’m writing this kinda late and I’m starting to get sleepy. I probably will re-read this tomorrow and add some brilliance to it that I just might miss tonight (watch for the update! LOL).

I have a little late-blooming love for undergarments. But if I had money, it would be a full-blown obsession! I would need a separate closet for just my undergarments! True story. I have my comfy undergarments for some days. The girls need support after all and I’m all about support. But…on the flip side…I just love sexy, frilly, racy, steamy undergarments that just plain make me feel hawt! I am not (I repeat NOT) afraid of thongs. BRING ON THE BUTT FLOSS! Even if no one sees my underwear, I know they are there. And that knowledge it a huge ego boost. HUGE. And the times when someone does get to see them? Honey there’s not enough water in the WORLD to put that fire out!

And since Victoria’s Secret can’t seem to get a fucking clue of what size a REAL sexy woman wears, I have to say how much I love Frederick’s of Hollywood. Frederick’s is this sexy woman’s saving grace. I wouldn’t be able to indulge my addiction without them. Actually, I think it’s time I head upstairs and do some indulging. For me. My ego could use a boost.

Picture Day is an evil plot to destroy parenthood as we know it.

Today is Picture Day and I’m ready to scream and commit murder/death/kill. Over hair. Seriously.

My daughter is no girlie-girl. She is definitely more of a tomboy. But I’m usually fairly successful in making a compromise with her so that she at least looks somewhat like a girl. Except with her hair. I can barely get her to comb her hair, let alone *do* anything with it. If she had her way, she would always wear a hat. But she doesn’t always get her way. I win on occasion, picking my battles carefully. I’m sorry, but I want to have *some* pictures/memories where I can say “There’s my beautiful little GIRRRRRRRLLLLLLLLL!”

So this morning the husband tells Ashley to get ready for school so that I can do her hair. And we get the bi-annual *tongue click-foot stomp-sigh-“Noooooo!”*. We’ll see/hear it again in the spring when it comes time for those pictures. Can’t wait. Her response always helps our mood *so* much and at that point we’re all GETREADYFORSCHOOLRIGHTNOW!

Have I told you that I’ve always wanted to be a motivational speaker? No? Well, that’s good, cuz I don’t.

After Ashley gets dressed, she comes in my bathroom. And it begins. I’m having a mental discussion with her hair begging it to help me find an appropriate style that won’t be too difficult to do. Ok, let’s see. I know…I’ll comb this part down. Yes. Wet it a little so it lays right. That’s good. Ashley, will you please stand up straight and stop tilting your head. Thank you. Now I’ll take this small part and wave it back. Hmmm… Maybe. Maybe if I put in a clip to hold it in place? Ye…no. That clip won’t hold. Ashley…PLEASE. *sigh* I don’t have another clip. The few small clips I have won’t match her outfit! WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY OTHER CLIPS? Oh, wait, I found one. Whew! Ok, so let me grab that piece again and wave it back. Slide in the clip. Crap! There’s a piece sticking up. Ok, take the clip back out. Comb it back down. Let’s try this again. Wave that piece back. And slide in the clip. Almost there. And check her wispy bangs. And ohmyfuckingGODAshley! Can you PLEASE just hold still for 5 minutes so I can make you look like you weren’t rolling around in the planter this morning?

These few and far between styling sessions ALWAYS end the same way. I’m pissed off and she’s in tears. Over hair. Seriously. Can I tell you how much I’m looking forward to puberty?

And so *I* end up late for work looking like the walking dead. Cuz after all that? I don’t give a flyingfartinspace what *I* look like today.

P.S. I’ll have to ask my Mom if she had to go through this crap with me on Picture Days. I’m thinking no, but that could be early dementia setting in (I have CRS – Can’t Remember Shit) or from the bender I (think I) was on last night.

Dancing in the street? Maybe not today.

It’s raining. The first big fall rain of the year.

Not that sprinkly shit that decides to tease everyone with the possibility of a temperature drop, but then says “PSYCH!” and stops leaving us hot AND wet. Not from the rain, though, but from the following muggi-ness that hangs afterwards.

Afternoon rain reminds me of another afternoon, a freakin’ million years ago (a.k.a. high school). I can’t remember what time of the year it was (cuz it was a freakin’ million years ago. What part of that did you NOT get?). My friend Robyn and I were at my house and it started to rain. Only it was still sunny outside. So what did we do? We went outside and danced in the rain. In the middle of the street. True story. Cars drove by and we waved. WAVED. We waved at them and kept dancing. After, we went back in the house, soaked and laughing.

There are times when I miss those days. Like today. The first big fall rain. And I would love nothing more than to go outside and dance in the rain. Maybe not in the middle of the street. I’m not crazy. I AM NOT!

Ok, so I just looked out the window. It’s raining REALLY hard. And it’s REALLY windy. And there’s thunder and lightning. I think I will have to postpone my rain dancing for now.

Fuck. My car windows are open.