My daughter’s birthday is tomorrow.

She is turning 11.

She goes back on track at school tomorrow. On her birthday. After two weeks off.

We haven’t planned her birthday party yet. Bcuz she was off track for the past two weeks and couldn’t give out invitations. And bcuz she wants to go to the skating rink again this year. When last time only one kid actually showed up for the party. ONE. So I’ve been asking her to think of other options so that she won’t be disappointed when one kid (or none for that matter) shows up again this year. But she just thinks that I’m the worst mom in the world for pissing on her brilliant plan.

She got a present from her father. But not from me yet. I haven’t even gone shopping for her present. I don’t even have a clue of what to look for right now.

And on top of everything, I had to get on her case today bcuz she is acting more and more like her father every day (which is not a good thing, I promise).

I’m thinking this is gonna be the best birthday EVAH.

A year’s worth of plans, emails, phone calls, and even a few boo-boos here and there finally came to fruition. To say I was excited? Yeah, doesn’t even BEGIN to cover it.

Leaving SLC
My flight was at 7 am. UGH.

I set my alarm for 4:30 am. Stacey doesn’t DO 4:30 am. That is unless it’s 4:30 am because I’ve been up all night playing Guitar Hero and singing ’80′s songs. Then it’s NO PROBLEM. I might as well have stayed up all night since I was up until after midnight finishing my homework and packing anyway. And I figured I would sleep on the plane, which kills two birds with one stone. I had no idea how wrong I was.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

By the time I actually woke up, the clock said 4:40. Yeah, you might be saying, “Wow! 10 whole minutes!” But this is me. Not a morning person. It’s hard for me to get up (I can be down right bitchy) and I need every minute to get ready with none to spare. I tore outta bed and everything became a blur from then until we left for the airport.

One GOOD thing about having a 7 am flight? There is NO ONE on the road. One BAD thing?  No breakfast and NO STARBUCKS! I was cranky, freezing my ass off (cuz I was already dressed for Miami, or cuz I was stupid – take your pick), starving, and badly in need of caffeine.

Got to the airport, checked in with Sky Cap (and was pleasantly surprised to find out that I only had to pay $15 for my bag since we had booked our trip so far in advance), and headed inside. The line for security was AWFUL. I figured I was gonna be there until I turned 50. But then a TSA Agent directed ‘seasoned’ passengers to another line. If it got me in a shorter line, HELL YEAH. I think I was through security in about 20 min. SCORE!

I flew out of SLC on American. Do you know what airline SLC is a hub for? Delta. Not American. D-E-L-T-A. Where are the majority of the vendors in SLC? In the B gates. Which are for? Delta. Where was I departing from? The A gates. Cuz I wasn’t on Delta. Do you see a pattern here? Cranky, freezing, starving, and in need of caffeine, with nothing except a damn Quiznos in sight! And it was almost time to board the plane. *sigh* I was not a happy camper.

I boarded the plane and found my seat. A window seat. I prayed to the airplane gods and thanked them for my window seat. I would be ok. Well, sorta ok. Lemme back up a bit. Those who know me really well, know that I don’t fly well. At all. I HATE to fly. I give white knucklers a bad name. Don’t believe me? Let’s take a flight together sometime. I guarantee you will never fly with me again. I once had a flight attendant watch me VERY closely on a flight from Austin to Chicago, bcuz I was about to break off the armrests. True story.

The plane was fairly empty, we were pretty close to our departure time, and I had my window seat. All was good. And then? A family with a young girl and an infant came to the back of the plane and sat…behind me. And where did they put the young girl? RIGHT BEHIND ME. What did she do the entire flight? Kicked my seat. The parents? Were comin due for a couple of bitch slaps. Seriously? One of the things I drilled into my kids over and over again was about showing others courtesy and respect. I would have done a HELL of a lot more than just saying (in a voice with no authority whatsoever), ”Don’t put your feet on the seat. It’s not nice.” I would be all, “Get your gawd damned feet down RIGHT NOW!” But that’s me.

I almost fell asleep once with my head against the side of the plane, only to have her kick the seat which shoved my head into the window frame. I nearly went over that seat and duct taped that kid’s legs above her head. But then I remembered I left my duct tape at home. I really have to learn to remember that stuff. You just never know when it will come in handy.

Needless to say I couldn’t get off the plane fast enough.

Layover in O’Hare
I totally lucked out. My flight from SLC arrived at one gate, and my flight to Miami departed from the gate right next to it. And what do I see as I get off the jetway? STARBUCKS! I think I might have drooled a little. But then my stomach chimed in with, “Um…HELLO? You haven’t given me anything in like…5 DAYS. ME FIRST!” And then my bladder jumped in to the conversation with, “Well I can make things really embarrassing for you REALLY FAST HERE.” So bladder trumped stomach, bcuz OBVIOUSLY. And then stomach stomped all over my mocha frappuccino craving, so no Starbucks for me.

My friend Michele’s layover was in DFW. Have you ever been to that airport? It’s a hub for American, so I bet you have at some point. Ok, so raise your hands if you EVER had to get off at one gate only to have your connecting flight depart from a gate on the other damn side of the terminal, or better yet, ANOTHER FREAKIN TERMINAL ALTOGETHER? Come on, GET YOUR DAMN HANDS UP! You know you have. Well, this was what she had to deal with. I was calmly waiting for my flight to Miami, while getting texts that my friend might not make her connecting flight. I was crossing fingers, legs, eyes, ANYTHING I could think of to send good vibes her way so that she would make her flight. Which she did. Cuz I haz GOOD JUJU.

Arrival in Miami
The flight from Chicago to Miami was pretty uneventful. I managed to keep my anxiety to a minimum and even chatted a bit with the nice lady sitting next to me. As soon as we landed, Michele and I started texting. Yes I KNEW that we were gonna see each other in just a few minutes, but it took FOREVER to taxi to the gate. And then I didn’t know which gate I was arriving at, so I couldn’t even tell her where to meet me. We finally found each other & set off to take care of priorities (bathroom, food, drink – & not necessarily in that order, except the bathroom. DUH.).

Got our bags, caught the shuttle to the hotel, and met up with the rest of our group. By now my stomach was rebelling. And not from lack of food. We were finally in the promised land. And my stomach wanted something with liquor in it. Now. A shot of 1800 & a Sam Adams plz thankyouverymuch!

Ok. Time for food. Holly wanted Cuban food since we’re in Miami, and we were all up for that. The hotel recommended Mojitos Cuban Restaurant in Dolphin Mall, which is (just what you’re thinking) a mall. (And I had to actually look up the name of the restaurant cuz I totally forgot it. OOPS!) The food was really good and the Sangria was AWESOME!

After dinner, Holly found us a cab that would take us to get alcohol for the ship. Two stops later, we had wine and liquor. We were SET! It was back to the hotel and an early night cuz the next day we were all gonna be sufficiently drowning our livers. No need to overdo it on the first night, right?

To be continued…

I’m posting my fav pic from my camera for each day of the trip (except the last one bcuz I didn’t take a single pic that day, go figure) For day 1, here is the group at dinner in Miami:

Mojitos in the front. Sangria in the back. Does anyone else notice how my boobs are on the table?

Ladies (& Craig LOL),

Where do I begin?

I don’t even know how let all of you know just how much I appreciate that you shared my birthday with me. I was so touched. I imagine you could tell, but I still want to tell you myself how much it meant to me. Holly was so right when she said the tears on Saturday were tears of joy. And gratitude. And awe. And whatever hell else I can think of to convey how special it was to do something so fun on my birthday and to have such great people there with me to share it.

Angela
Hun, you did SO awesome! It was an amazing birthday cruise! YOU ROCK LADY! It was a bummer that you had to ‘work’ a little on the trip, though. Can’t wait to call you when I’m ready to book my trip to Atlantis! Thank you so much for the necklace and earrings also. I love them! And I still think you totally should have gone to that party! There. I said it.

Craig
It was such a pleasure meeting you on this trip. You have such a great sense of humor! The tabasco water was so funny! But, I hope we crazy drunk women didn’t freak you out too badly!

Holly
I will NEVER look at packing the same way again! ROFLMAO You never fail to crack me up and I love that. And I love how you tell it like it is. You chewed my ass out, but I needed it (and I do need it every once in a while – gotta get rid of it somehow!). And I knew that it was out of genuine concern and caring. Thank you. If I move to San Diego, you got my back, right? LOL

Suzette
It was so wonderful meeting you on our Cabo cruise and I am SO glad you came on this one too! And now I can tag you in the pics on FB so that everyone else can see your awesomeness! Cuz you are totally AWESOME! If I get out to San Diego, can I get a reference to your stylist? PLZ????

And I totally didn’t say it enough on the ship, so HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY YOU SEXY BITCH!

Michele
When I brought up the idea of doing something together for my birthday, I was over-the-moon ecstatic when you said you were in. Robert had to yank my ass down off the ceiling I was so excited! I didn’t even know then what an impact this trip would have on me regarding our friendship. We connected in a way that we haven’t in a REALLY long time. I don’t think I can ever explain how much that meant to me, even though I knew you wanted to throttle me a couple of times. That’s just how we roll.

I loveloveLOVE the necklace and earrings! And I love you so much! Remember ‘the circle’? Yeah, you ain’t NEVER GETTING OUT THERE. So don’t even try.

And btw, just when I when I was about to stab the asshat sitting next to me on the flight home that decided he needed his seat space AND MINE, Don’t Talk To Strangers came on my iPod, which made me smile and get a little teary. So THANK YOU for keeping me outta jail. The asshat should thank you too, cuz you totally saved his life.

Love,
Stacey

NO WAIT!

THAT’S NOT MY NAME!

Love,
Trina

2010 is in less than 13 hours. HOLY SHIT Y’ALL!

Wow! This year has totally flown by. It really does seem like we were just at the beginning of 2009. But a lot has happened this year too. I started thinking about everything and came up with a pretty good list of major events(good AND bad) from 2009:

And with all of that going on, I finally began to find my voice. It took a while, and it’s absolutely a work in progress, but it’s been a lot of fun so far. I look forward to see where the journey leads in 2010.

I wish all of you a safe and Happy New Year! I sincerely hope that 2010 brings you lots of joy! Bottoms up!

All my love,

Stacey

Inside out?

Upside down?

Japanese? (I don’t really think so, think so, think so, think so.)

Actually…I’m turning 40. 40. The big four-oh. Ugh.

My mom used to have a refrigerator magnet that said:

Of course, at the time, I was neither 40 nor pregnant. I thought the magnet was silly and told my mother as much. She just laughed and said that she agreed with the sentiment. Fine mom, whatEVER!

Well, 40 is quickly approaching, and I have been pregnant a time or two. I no longer think that my mother’s magnet was silly, but I haven’t quite figured out whether or not I agree with the statement.

Until recently, my age has never bothered me. I’ve been lucky enough to not look my age (and THANKYOUVERYMUCH to whomever had a hand in that!). And I haven’t really exeperienced any real mid-life crisis feelings, unless you count the fact that I’ve poked more holes in my head (like I need more of those, right?). No boy toys, no sports cars, etc. Maybe that happens after I turn 40? Time will have to tell on that.

The only times I have even been slightly weirded out about my age is when I think of how I have an 19-year old son who is in college. College. Oh my GAWD I’m old! It also doesn’t really help that I’m in college now too (can you say potential paradox?).

Over a year ago, I decided that I had no intention of spending my 40th birthday in Utah. No. Way. In. Hell. I was gonna do something fun and something REALLY BIG. And I knew that I wanted to share it with one of my dearest friends. I didn’t even have any idea of what to do then, but she said she was totally up for it. So I put my thinking cap on. I heard the gears turning up there and smelled smoke a couple of times but got no real result. Well…..CRAP!

Then I remembered how much fun I had on a cruise to Cabo I took in 2007 with my friend & an amazing group of gals. And I thought THAT’S WHAT WE SHOULD DO! We always talked of taking another cruise somewhere. And is there a more perfect reason than to commiserate celebrate with someone who is depressed about getting over the hill super excited about being 40 and SEXY!

So in less than two months, we are off on a cruise to the Bahamas! WOOT! I cannot tell you how excited I am to be spending my 40th birthday doing something really big, just like I planned. And with such great women. I know it will be a birthday to remember…..in a good way.

I wouldn’t consider myself a pack rat.  Now.  When I was younger, though, I started to come pretty darn close.  I kept EVERYTHING.

You, know how it is.  You keep every little thing because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need a bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

You need more money to pay for the bigger home to get more space to store every little thing you keep because you just KNOW that someday you will need it or be able to use it.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. (There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don’t know why she swalloed the fly. Perhaps she’ll die.) I guess you could say the things I have kept are my fly.

Moving has always offered an opportunity to get rid of some stuff. Why pack it when you can purge it, right? Right. But no matter how much I get rid of, I think I only get through the surface and maybe 2-3 underlying layers. Tops.

And then I just start amassing NEW stuff. Such a vicous cycle.

Well, I’m getting closer to breaking the cycle. The downfall of my marriage, my impending “over the hill” status, and getting thrown out on my collective career-ass, just to name a few, have me thinking of ways to simplify my life. FAST.

I’m starting with closing my MK business. Honestly, it’s time. I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it ever since I started, but never actually DOING anything with it. On any level. I just don’t see that getting any better in the near future, so I’m kickin’ it to the curb for now.

Another purge category that is long overdue is my craft items. For years, I was a psychotic craft shopper. Let me clarify something, though. SHOPPING does not imply CREATING. I had ideas of really cool craft projects out the wazoo! Sadly, the ideas never quite panned out or didn’t look as good in real life as they did in my head. Man, everything looks/sounds/feels/is SO much better in my head. Maybe I should just go live there!

The last on my list right now are my collectibles. The Bradford Edition plates that hung on a wall for a mere year out of the decade and a half that I have had them. Oh, and my Cherished Teddies. What the HELL was I thinking? Sure, they are freakin cute as hell, and did manage to be on display in my house(s) for a little longer than the plates. But ever since the hostage crisis began (I really do need to explain that sometime, don’t I?), they have been nothing more than garage dust collectors. I don’t really think that was the artist’s intention and it certainly wasn’t mine either.

eBay/Craigslist/KSL.com and the like are prolly gonna become my temporary best friends here soon. And hopefully things get a little (or a lot) simpler in my life. Think I can sell the husband? Cuz that would REALLY simplify my life lemme tell ya.

So, I’m curious who else out there is a closet pack rat? Come purge with me peeps! You know you want to.

And here’s where I let on to just how old I might be…..

I absolutely heart me some ’80s music. Love it. In fact, if I’m in need of something to help keep me motivated on a task, you will either find me listening to music from the ’80s or disco. No…that is NOT a typo. (Remember that age thing I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well…there you go.)

Sidenote: As far as I’m concerned, disco will NEVER be dead. You can’t shake your ass to anything else like you can to disco. And don’t think I don’t know that you do it too. In your home. When nobody’s watching (at least so you think). You put on Donna Summer’s Last Dance and boogie down. Until you hear someone nearby and you run to switch it to Metallica and start headbanging. Cuz that’ll totally throw them off the trail of what you were REALLY doing in there. You can admit it now. We all know. DON’T WE.

My most recent ’80s flashback had me searching for the video to Olivia Newton-John’s Physical. I found what I was looking for and much more. I got two flashbacks for the price of one. (Then again since it didn’t cost me anything, it was actually two flashbacks for the price of none. But I digress yet again.)

Remember Solid Gold? (Cue the “ooooo”s and “ahhhh”s here.)

That weekly music countdown show that was only just a small step up from American Bandstand. Where lip synching songs was the ONLY option and was paired with a bunch of HAWT dancers in spandex (Spandex? In the ’80s? NAH!). I vaguely seem to remember having a HUGE crush on one of the male dancers. Couldn’t tell you which one, though.

That’s just some awesome shit right there. She never made a mistake. Her performance was flawless. She never had to take a break in the middle of the song bcuz she was out of breath from her dancing workout (or those steamy hunks dancing with her *fanning self*). And I have absolutely NO idea how my simple little ’80s song flashback morphed into poking fun at Solid Gold. I loved that show growing up.

I’m doing it. I’m really doing it this time. I’m going back to college to get my degree. I think.

I took my English and Math placement tests today so I can register for the fall semester. I really thought I would struggle with the English part more than the Math. After all, I was in Calculus by my senior year. What a fucking crock of shit. A serious wake-up call was headed my way ….. FAST.

The test started with the English portions and I was actually giddy (short-lived unfortunately) to get them out of the way first. There were a few pre-test background questions and then the actual test started. These two sections proved to be the easiest and fastest to take.

Then came the Math portions. There was only one background question that asked how well I knew Algebra. The possible answers were:

a) I don’t know what Algebra is. (I shit you not)

b)Not at all

c)I used to, but I forgot it.

d)Fair

e)Good

Still thinking Math will be the easier test, I actually debated whether to answer d or e, but finally settled on c. Yeah…..it’s sad to say how right that answer really was. As you can see from the test scores in the pic below, each math section went a just a little further downhill than the previous section.

Can’t I just take the English portion twice & forget the Math? I didn’t even bother trying to figure out some of the advanced math questions, cuz I knew that those brain cells were permanently damaged from one of my many nites of hard partying. That & they were actual proof that NO WAY have I EVER used advanced math outside of high school (so exactly why did I take those classes?). And none of the questions offered an “I drank my way through high school & a good chunk of the next two decades, so there isn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell that I will have the answer to this question.”, so I did the only thing I could do……….guess. I’m not sure of the wisdom in requiring an answer to each question. What if? Just what if? Someone guessed at the questions and got them right? A possibly remedial student being told to register for college-level calculus. Hmm…..perhaps his luck would continue to hold out. Perhaps not.

So now I have my course placements for English and Math.

If I consider this logically, it looks like I’m about middle of the road on the math class I have to take. I don’t know this for sure (cuz I haven’t checked out the course catalog yet), but I refuse to potentially burst my bubble just yet.

And it may just be me, but I think I rocked the English test.

P.S. Logic does occasionally prevail. I just checked out the course descriptions, and I am around the middle. I can either take College Algebra, Quantitative Reasoning, Intro to Statistics, or College Algebra – Business. Apparently, I only managed to erase the last two years of high school math (Trig & Calc) with my binge drinking. Whew…..

P.S.S. I was right. I DID rock the English test. I’m supposed to take Intermediate Writing. I guess all these years of correcting Robert’s atrocious grammar and my bullshitting really paid off. I hope they don’t find out how full of shit I really am. LOL

i made the mistake of stepping on the scale yesterday for the first time in quite a while. the resulting display made me think that 1) the husband kept putting one of his feet on the scale with me when i wasn’t looking or 2) scales don’t like to be left alone and lash out at their owners for not taking care of them (i.e. not using them). of course i stepped on it twice just to be sure the mechanisms didn’t get all funky from being stored vertically. i certainly didn’t want to reaffirm what i had already been shown on the display. unfortunately, i couldn’t get that lucky. the second display was exactly the same as the first…….215.5. i know, i can’t believe i am divulging this horribly high number for all to see either. it’s not even the highest i have been, but it’s a number i just can’t seem to get away from and that scares the shit out of me.

there are some days when i look in the mirror and think that, for being almost 40 and having had two kids, i look pretty fucking hot!!!!! other days, i go through self depricating phases of no one in their right mind would want to fuck me. not helpful, yes, i know. i try to focus my thoughts in a different way. by that, i mean, to concentrate on my health and that the rest of it will somehow fall in line. that could very well be. and after my last annual exam, i know that my health has got to come first. my blood tests show that i am borderline type 2 diabetic and that my hdl cholesterol (the good kind) is low. both of which can be corrected with “diet, exercise, and weight loss” (to quote my doctor’s wonderful nurse who made me desperately want to scratch her eyes out over the phone when she told me). i know she was right. i’ve known that i need to do those things for years now. we all have things in our lives that we ‘know’ need to be done, but we have trouble when it comes to the actual application of those things. i do hope that by hearing it from my doctor’s standpoint and voicing it for all the world internet to hear read, i can get a better handle on it and make some real progress. then maybe i will be totally fucking hot and that there would people lining up around the block to fuck me. i’ll keep you posted.

i’m not old. i may be nearing 40 & blind as a bat without my contacts/glasses, but i am NOT old. & i’m sure i will continue to say that even on the day i get put in a home. i’ve been lucky in that i don’t look my age (at least that’s what other people tell me & it’s managing to make it past the short-term memory dump i seem to have each night, so who am i to argue?). i don’t even have a problem with my age, usually. i’m not sure, but the day my son graduated from high school & the day he turned 18 might have been exceptions to that. i really don’t remember much of those days. anyway, i always say, “you’re only as old as you feel”, which helps me forget at least for a little while. tequila & beer helps too. the bottom line is that i don’t actually feel like i’m finishing up my 4th decade on this earth.

that was until……….

i saw a piece of lint in my eyebrow recently. i started pulling on it & i became like the mother in the movie bachelor party where she’s trying to take the ‘footlong’ off the tray from nick the dick. it wouldn’t come off! so i was all, “the hell? the HELL? OH NO! A GREY HAIR! in my EYEBROW? guess i can’t complain too much. at least it’s not a pubic hair!”

it’s the 1st one i have ever found, but that doesn’t say much. the past 10 years i’ve been dying my hair to destroy any evidence of …… (if you’ve known me longer than that, you know, but plz don’t tell) i could have a shit load of them and just not know it. why couldn’t the grey hair be there? then i could gladly live in blissful ignorance.

now begins the debate: to pluck or not to pluck? you hear a lot these days how it’s bad to pluck your eyebrows. natural is better. fuck you. if we were all natural, we’d all have bushy cavewomen unibrows. that’s attractive. i leave mine alone for the most part, except for the strays that must have come from my monkey ancestors that SO need to just stay buried in the past. and this stupid grey hair is right in the middle of my eyebrow. so what to do – leave it alone or pull that mf’r out as fast as i can? it could leave a gaping hole in my eyebrow. how would i explain that? “um, we had a little laser pointer mishap at our last staff meeting. that’s actually fucking awesome.

i haven’t actually decided yet what to do with it, even though each time i see it i lean more towards plucking. i should just do it & get it over with. then i can go back to my mantra, even if i’m the only one who believes it. i still don’t feel old. i just hope it doesn’t multiply & spread. the day i find a grey pubic hair will be a sad day indeed.

update – i guess there will come a day when even i won’t believe the bullshit that comes out of my mouth. i fell asleep during the digital scrapbooking webinar i took last nite. i’m screwed.