I love Barbie

This past Saturday night Kyle and I went to a fundraiser complete with a dinner and silent auction.  We love this type of event.  We hosted a fundraiser at our own home three years in a row, for the Hemophilia Society of Colorado, and had a silent auction each year.  It’s a great way to raise money and people really have fun trying to out bid each other to win.  Having been successful raising money for our cause we always try to participate in others.

Was it the art work or the spa packages that lured me in this time?  Oh no, it was the 2000 collector’s edition Barbie.  Yes, you read me right.  I love Barbie.  I have no children so I never got the chance to fill a little girl’s room with Barbie mansions and cars and horses.  That’s right, sigh, poor me.  Every time we are shopping for one of our nieces and we pass the Barbie aisle I have to stop and check it all out.  I mean she is just awesome right?

Perfect body, fantastic clothes, amazing hair, let’s face it, the woman has it going on.

My husband proposed to me on New Years Eve 2000, at a black tie event, so I convinced myself that I needed this Barbie as a girly and beautiful reminder of that night.  I bid on her and made Kyle go over three times during dinner to make sure I was still the top bidder.  Yes, that husband of mine is the best, THE BEST I TELL YOU!

I left that night victorious.  I have my new Barbie and am quite pleased with her.  Don’t you think she seems right at home in my closet?

Plus there is the hidden bonus of me knowing what I want my New Year’s Eve dress to look like this year. 

Smart Car???

           

It just baffles me why anyone in their right mind would by a Smart Car.  I mean, seriously.  You people do realize that if you are in an accident with say, a bicycle, you are dead and your car is totaled.  It really does make me wonder if it isn’t similar to the Darwin Awards.  You know, chlorinating the gene pool to rid the world of the kind of people willing to be seen in such a small, unsafe little car.  Perhaps the car’s creators thought, “There are some real morons out there and they need to be weeded out of society.  I know, let’s invent a car that is about as safe as a giant beer can with wheels, and sell it to all those planet loving, recycle crazed, hemp wearing people.  That should do it.”  It reminds me of the Yugo.  You remember the Yugo don’t you?  The tiny ‘Second Car for Your Family’ that sold for a little under $4K.  You notice how you don’t see those cars around anymore?  It’s because they are all rusting in the ‘Piece of crap car graveyard’ somewhere polluting the planet, having been crushed to death by all the big grown up cars.

I drive an SUV.  A giant, V8, gas guzzling, environment ruining SUV.  Hey, don’t look at me like that.  I recycle.  I donate old clothes to charity, I use the recycle paper bins at work, hey, I even drop my daily pop can in appropriate bin in the kitchen at work.  It’s not that I’m against the planet.  What I’m against are those lame little cars on the road.  They just look so stupid and so very dangerous.  Do you know the guilt you Smart Car drivers are putting other drivers like me through?  No, I’m not talking about the guilt of us others wasting our precious resources by using all the crude oil on the planet, I’m talking about the guilt I will feel when I run over what I think is a speed bump and, in fact, it’s you and your Smart Car squashed underneath my SUV, like a pop can under my foot.  You should be ashamed of yourself for even putting me through the possibility.

And no, when your Smart Car breaks down, although it would fit, I won’t put it in the back of my SUV and take you to the garage.

Pretty in Pink.

Last week my sister and I took Thursday and Friday off work so we could paint and redecorate my niece’s bedroom.  She’ll be 4 in December and it was time to update her room and ‘Princessize it’.  She loves pink and everything and anything to do with princesses.  She is a girly girl who loves to wear skirts and spin around so she can watch them spin out from her.  I love this little girl with all my heart.

Thursday we painted and had the whole day to ourselves.  My sister is my best friend so we had a total blast.  With life being the crazy ride that it is we don’t get to see each other enough so it was absolute bliss.  I am a crazy fan of pink.  I love it and thought the room looked so perfect all pink.  My sister, however, felt like she was locked inside a Pepto- Bismol bottle and had to fight back a panic attach.  Relax, I told her.  It’s all about your little princes.

I spent the night on Thursday night, sleeping in the master bedroom with my sis and niece; her super cool husband crashed on the couch.  Those of you who read my blog will know that this means my poor sister had one of the worst nights of sleep of her life.  My husband, at home, had one of his best.  Go figure.  

Friday we decorated and I had the best time ever.  If I had a little girl this is exactly the type of room I’d do for her.  It turned out so great and her little face all lit up and smiley was just what we were hoping for.  She was thrilled and just loved it! We put her toys in really neat tubs so her toys could be separated and easy to see.  We attached princess decals to the wall over her bed that are peal and stick so if she decides to rip them off, they can be moved anywhere in the room.  Also, check out the cool butterflies.  They are 3 dimensional and look like they are fluttering up the wall.  

 

My husband and I don’t have any children of our own so when I get the opportunity to do something like this it fills a void.  Painting and decorating for a princess - two days of working our butts off, getting to go home and drink wine with my husband in our kid free home - priceless. 

Pharmacist vs. Liquor Store Owner

My husband and I were discussing how much we enjoy living in Castle Rock, Colorado.  It’s such a quaint town with an intimate town feel but with all the major stores you need.  We love to go out to breakfast on the weekends and frequent a few spots.  Having lived here for over four years we know all the wait staff and owners at each place.  It’s just a nice feeling to know people and experience that kind of familiarity. 

It’s nice until you wonder, which is the worst sign of our increasing ages and chosen lifestyle.  We are wine drinkers.  We love to come home, drink wine, and sit and relax each evening after work.  I mean, come on, if one glass of wine a day is good for you then several must be even better?  Right?  Okay so we are drinkers.

Next, we are both on several prescriptions each day for various things ranging from a sluggish thyroid to high blood pressure to asthma, etc.  Yes, getting old begins to show up on your body whether you eat right and work out or not.  (I am just assuming this part, as we don’t eat right and there is no way in hell we do anything resembling working out.)

Oh come on, all those healthy people are going to be lying in hospital beds someday, dying of absolutely nothing, and wondering why the hell they didn’t take the time to drink and eat and be merry. 

Anyhow, I’m getting to my point of this rant.  We were actually laughing the other day about which is a worst sign of the way you live your life; the fact that your pharmacist knows your name and starts to pull out your prescriptions as you approach the counter, or every liquor store in town knows you by name and makes sure they stash your wine in the back of the fridge so nobody takes the last one?

You have to admit, it’s a conundrum.

So my dog's bitch...

As I have written time and time again, I am sooo my dog’s bitch.  Hey, don’t look at me like that.  I know it is pathetic to some of you, and others of you that will smile and nod along with this post, as you are just as pathetic. (Pathetic = Loving)

Anyhow, Lucy is the sweetest little manipulative dog in the whole world.  She totally knows who the weak parent is too. 

Here’s example #1:  Kyle gets home from work before me, Lucy greets him, goes outside to go potty, both #1 & #2, and back in for a few treats, content to grab her pony, http://kimwyote.blogspot.com/2010/09/our-little-girl-turned-11-years-old.html, and settle in. 

Here’s example #2:  I get home, Lucy greets me and immediately gets treats.  She waits for me to change clothes and starts growling and pawing at me until I let her outside.  She only does # 1 or #2 at this point but not both.  Oh no, she knows she’ll get to go back out again for a third round of treats.  You see where this is going right?

I am her sucker!!!  Kyle, meanwhile, sits happily in his chair the rest of the night as Lucy sits and stares at me, growls at me and generally just drives me fucking ape shit.  Oh, I get it blog readers.  I’ve created this monster.  She is just too cute to say no too.  

Oh but don’t think I don’t know when to say no.  After she finishes her first Curious George coffee mug full of water, which lives on my nightstand each night, and begins scratching and pawing at it, I tell her only one more.  Ha, I show her who’s boss.

Why I want to come back as a Pig in my next life..

A single work friend of mine, we'll call her Candy, just recently started dating a new guy.  He's cute, he's built, with a couple of nice tattoos and things are going really well for her.  My other 'fellow-old- married- hag' friend, Jodi, and I like to live vicariously through our newly dating friend as we've both been married since before television switched over to color from black and white.  Okay, not that long, but you get my drift.

So we ask daily details of dates they've been on but no real action had taken place yet.  A couple kisses and stuff but come on, we want some throw down, sweaty, up against the wall, sex stories.  You know, the awesome kind you have when you first start banging someone new.  (Yes, Griffin, I did just type banging)

Low and behold this last Monday Candy is in early.  I mean folks this girl doesn't hit the office until after 8:30 or she spontaneously catches on fire.  Remember that one time Jodi?  It wasn't pretty.  Anyway I arrive to already find her at her desk and when I ask what she is doing here so early her reply is that her new man, we'll call him Kain, had an 8:00 meeting.   Bam Chicka Wah Wah.

Yes folks, Candy is glowing from head to toe and has been engaged in some between the sheets kind of action.  I'm serious to, you could just see her radiant glow from the space shuttle.  So we asked her about it and she said the first time was a bit awkward, just trying to figure each other out.  Then she made me laugh so hard I almost peed myself.  She asked if I'd ever seen "Along Came Polly", the Jennifer Aniston movie.  Well yes,  I reply.  She throws her arms up and yells "50!!".   I'm laughing now just thinking about it.  For those of you who haven't seen it, the first time her and Ben Stiller's character have sex he is thinking the entire time that he has to last as long as he can.  He starts counting in his head and as soon as he can't take it anymore, and blows his load, he yells out "50!"  As in, sadly, he only made it that long.  That got me thinking about men and women and the differences between how long it takes each one to “blow”.

You might be wondering where the title for this particular blog comes from.  Okay, here goes.  My "Jerry Springer - closing thought of the day" goes something like this.  How is it fair that we bump and grind for as long as we do to achieve that amazing, explosive, mind numbing moment that only about 30 seconds whereas when pigs have orgasms, they last up to 30 minutes?  It just doesn't seem fair does it?

Think about that for a minute or two next time you are deciding what you’d come back as if you had to do it all again.  Me, I’m going for the pig.

Breast Cancer Awareness Part 1

This month is, as I’m sure you are all aware, Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  I write a lot of blogs with humor and random craziness but this is one time I’ll be serious.  It could not be more important to each and every woman on the planet to know their own bodies and be fully aware of their breasts.  Oddly enough some women still find it uncomfortable, even weird to talk about it, but it could not be more important to know each bump or oddity in our own breasts, so we are aware when something new appears.   Take the 60 seconds in the shower while your hair conditioner is doing its thing.  It truly can be the difference between life and death.  Early detection truly does mean early cure and I can prove it.

My mother in law is the single most amazing woman I have ever met in my entire life.  She is the matriarch of our family and has an amazing ability to keep everyone in contact and, in doing so, keeps us all one big, close and happy family.  I am not close with my own Mother or Father so in marrying my husband I got the parents I always dreamed of, they are the ones I call Mom and Dad.

Moving on, a small lump was located in my Mother’s breast and, after a series of routine tests, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Here’s one of the kickers.  My Dad has a chronic lung condition and was in the hospital for one of his major surgeries while this selfless woman sat by his bedside telling us nothing of this.  She never takes attention on herself, never will, and uses all her energy and attention focusing on others.  After his surgery was over she let us know that she was awaiting tests to find out if she had breast cancer.  This amazing woman kept to herself that she was scared to death, waiting for news that she might have cancer, and just kept taking care of everyone else, as always. The week we waited for this news was one of the longest of our lives

She and my Dad didn’t leave the house for the entire time they were waiting for the doctor’s call with either good news or bad news.  They finally went stir crazy and went to one of our nephew’s basketball games.  She got the call at the game.  It was bad news…yes, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.