Archive for the 'Fa' Real?' CategoryPage 2 of 5

I’m sorry, another post about the life and times of Me.

I could write all about my wonderful children, but I am afraid the content would largely consist of the word “poop”, plus my 6 year old asked me not to blog about her issues that resulted in an x-ray and daily Miralax “cocktails”.

While waiting for her x-ray she asked, “What are you going to blog about today?”

Me, “Oh… probably something about the very important vice-presidential debate that is happening tonight.”

She, “Oh…”.

I pressed… “Why? Do you want me to write about this?”

Olivia, “No.”

Me, “Were you worried I’d write about this?”

Olivia nodded and looked relieved.

So… I won’t blog about THAT.

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Today I will write about what I did Wednesday night! Plus, it was way more fun than poop. It’s true. My friend Lisa and I went to a concert. I saw 3 bands I’d never heard of. The genre: folk/rock-folk/country/blues/bluegrass/afrobeat. Yeah, righ tin line with my retro-pop-80’s obsession…

Here’s what went down: Continue reading ‘I’m sorry, another post about the life and times of Me.’

Dear Deer who is gettin’ all fat offa my flowers,

Stop it! You can have the weeds - all 3 acres of ‘em! I have only a select number of potted plants, and those flowers were not lovingly planted and sprinkled with Miracle Gro for you and your belly. I did all that for me and mine-sesses. The flowers are for beautification of my front porch, not for satiation of your appetite, nor for your gestational purposes.

When I walked out my front door this morning - it looked like horticultural massacre! Look what you did to my pretty flowers!!!

Little Deer… I’m here to tell ya, DON’T MESS WITH MAH FLOWERS!!!

Don’t you get all “Bambi-eyed” on me! I’m not falling for it. No more flowers for breakfast!

Do you hear me??? 

I said… !!! Do. You. HEAR. ME???!!!

Careful my four-legged friends, for if you do not heed my caution - next time I make ground turkey chili (while wearing my Confidence Apron, of course!) - I will make it with VENISON instead.

You have been warned.

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It’s been nearly 20 years…

since I turned 16. Around here, we are gearing up for a big celebration of that anniversary at the end of October. And all this planning to celebrate an event that happened 20 years ago has me feeling a bit nostalgic. As I was cleaning the basement today, I came across my old high school year books. I looked through my 1988 and 1989 yearbooks, and read through some of the thoughtful notes my friends wrote to me…

Hey Kerry. Stay cool and rad. Brian F.

O.K. Bri… will do. 

As I am giggling to myself, my 9 year old son wanders over. He wants to know what’s so dern funny. He looks at some of the photos with me. As I flip through the pages, I recognize the insecure girl that was me 20 years ago. I am not much different from that girl today… ‘ceptin’ I’m not as hyper… I’m sorry. That’s not true. Continue reading ‘It’s been nearly 20 years…’

Confession: I am Whack!

I am not exaggerating. Not one bit. I am not right. After last night, methinks I may need to seek professional help. Last night, I ran from ghosts… or at least from whatever was giving me little bumpies all over mah bawdy.

I was madly putting laundry away last night. I was gettin’ things done! I was by my own self in mah big -ol’ house. Mah big ol’ house that is only 2 years old. Mah big ol’ house that I am pretty sure is not built on an old graveyard or ancient burial site. Pretty sure.

Alls I know is I was putting away a bunch of laundry when I got all chill bumpy, and such. Now, I creep-out with relative ease, and I am familiar with what it takes to calm myself down. But I watched some clip the night before on ghosts occupying Lorette Lynn’s house and the ghost-hunter dude was so creeped out even he didn’t stay very long. I know I should never watch that garbage. It took, like, 2 years for me to mostly get normal after watching that 6th Sense movie. I blame my mental deficit for not being able to differentiate reality from psychosis on watching Poltergeist when I was, like 7. That’s wrong. Continue reading ‘Confession: I am Whack!’

Parents of the Year?

One evening recently, Paul and I shared a beer over dinner. Our 9 year old son, Cole, asked when he’d be able to have a beer. That’s easy. I told him, “When you’re 21.” He said, “That’s like in 12 years!”

He’s so good with math.

Because I have a disconnected connector in my “appropriate” box, I continued… “And your first beer is going to be with Mom and Dad! You remember that, you’ll have your first beer with mom and dad.” Oh, can you just feel the trouble coming…

A couple of days later, Cole was alone with his dad and me in the car. We were bantering back and forth… giggling… having a nice time… like buddies at a bar… And out of the blue, my little poke about his first beer reared it’s hoppy, malted head… Cole inquired, 

Is this what it’s going to be like when you guys take me for a beer?

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I like statistics.

Would somebody please wash my mouth? Have I lost my ever-lovin’ mind? “…like statistics”… *soaps own tongue*

I should clarify…

I like enjoy looking at my BLOG statistics. As far as “Statistics” go, I did everything in my non-mathematical power to NOT take Statistics in college - and I was a Psych minor. Never took it. Just call me Houdini Shedini .

Back to my point. I like looking at my blog stats for a number of reasons. Reasons for which you probably have little to no interest. Therefore I will not bore you with a post I should title “Reasons Kerry Likes to Look at Her Blog Stats”. *gag* Instead I will share with you certain “Search Keyphrases”… sure to tickle your funny bone - if not simply leave you scratching your head. If any of you are unfamiliar with this “search keyphrases” thing, it means: what people typed into search engines that brought them to my little home here on the Whole Wide World of the Interwoven Web.

Rest assured - this will not be brief. “Brief” is neither my style in the written medium, nor in the undergarment meduim… but I digress. 
Continue reading ‘I like statistics.’

I went for a bike ride today.

And folks, am I glad you weren’t there to see it. No, I didn’t take a fall. I’m sorry. I know a really good fall is always a fun thing to write read about. Plus, if I had a good “fall off my bike” story, I could have distracted you from the fact that I have the biking skills of a sporty snail. You know how that one pop star is named “Sporty Spice“… from now on you can just call me “Sporty Snail”… just not to my face.

I went on a 12 mile-ish ride with my friend Julie. You know, Crazy Julie… 2 arms, 2 legs… Yes! THAT Julie! She’s so cute. We went on a beautiful route along the Washington Coast. Rolling hills, a view of the Pacific, and a FANTASTIC view of Julie’s butt (which, by the way, looks very small - especially when she is a mile ahead…)

Julie is FAST. Her level of bike skillz earns her a “skill” with a “Z”. Let’s just say… for every HALF a rotation of my wheels she gets three rotations worth of distance. From here on out, I will address her as “Supastar”.

I mean, how much faster can one person go than another when going downhill? Really. I mean, gravity is gravity and… how the heck does that woman go so fast??? How???  **on knees, arms shaking - reaching to the heavens**

Oh well. I guess there can be ONE thing in life I am not the best at. 

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A post in which I make fun of my pantry-keeping skills.

I decided to clean out my pantry recently. It was like a great big junk drawer of canned, boxed and bottled food. Apparently I have been stocking up on the necessities. I am such a “nester”…

Apparently, every family of 5 needs THREE 40 ounce bottles of BBQ sauce. Yeah, because my kids use BBQ sauce instead of milk in their cereal.

Chocolate syrup. Keeps the marriage alive. Just kidding. You can NEVER have enough of the syrup that is chocolate…A.K.A. “The Nectar of All Things Good and True”. I mean, really… What if a school bus full of children broke down in front of my house and I had an insufficient amount of chocolate syrup for making chocolate milk? How embarrassing. 

I guess I could always offer them…

What is this all about? One might think I operate a soup kitchen… or a healing clinic called, “Bring Me Your Sick, Your Sore Throats”. Nope. I just harvested a bounty of canned chicken broth… for all the soup I make in the summer. Ahhh… nothing like sipping on steaming hot bowl of soup In. The. Summer.

Tomatoes anyone? My kids HATE tomatoes, but - by golly - I am gonna keep these diced, sauced, crushed, whole, canned, red orbs in my pantry. I wait for the moment enough of their young taste-buds die off and the children realize tomatoes won’t gag them to death.

Oooh - a vinegar bar! I look at this line up and I am reminded of Bubba Gump…

…white wine vinegar, apple cider vinegar, Balsamic vinegar, red wine vinegar, rice vinegar, vinegar-vinegar…

***Note: One item that was NOT in my pantry…. Oreos. Because I ate them. All. 

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I still got it!

Friends. Family. Fellow graduates. Mostly family, this may be a little edgy for summa ya’ll. AND there is a curse word, more than once, and it was PAUL who started it! 

This situation occurred last night, as best as I can remember:

Husband: Dude. “So-and-So” (a woman!) just gave me an award (or something) on Facebook.

Me: Dude. She hasn’t even made ME a friend! Why hasn’t she made MEeeee HER friend? 

*Insight: This is someone from college and prior to our dating, Paul and I traveled in different circles. I never fit in that circle of people, which I am fine with. It is just weird because… who doesn’t absolutely dig me and want to be my friend? I mean, maybe I was a little hyper… a little spaztic… but c’mon. I was 18! I was also boy crazy. Anyway…

In my head: She can’t give him something if she’s not friends with me!

Husband: I said FACEbook. Not ASSbook.

Me: *GASP!!!! Hands covering mouth* What are you saying? Are you saying I have an ass-face?

Husband: No baby. I’m saying that with an ass like that who’s gonna look at your face?

*THWACK!!!* Right on mah tushie!

Ya know folks, after 13.5+ years of marriage, it feels good to know my husband still likes my butt… And, ya know… it’s fun when he gets a little “fresh”. Gah that makes me sound twice my age… “fresh”… 

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Me and Lance Armstrong - Same!

O.K., MAYBE that is a slight exaggeration. 

  1. I am a woman and he is a man. 
  2. He has prolly no body fat and I have… do.

BUT, for  a brief moment (approximately 10-20 seconds) I was Just. Like. Lance. Armstrong. You see, it is rumored he races at 95% of his maximum heart-rate. And for 10-20 seconds, I raced at 95% of mine! BFF, Lance!

On Saturday my sister and I ran in a local 4 mile race. Picture. Picture. We were so race-ready, on the heels of disco-ing away Friday night at a local casino. We danced from 9 to 1:30 - and only took breaks when the band did. And might I mention it is imperative that one maintains adequate hydration when one is disco-ing like a fool the night before a race.. and only gets 5.5 hours of sleep.

Continue reading ‘Me and Lance Armstrong - Same!’