A Fun Little Rivalry?

As I've said before, the Iron Bowl is a day I just have to get through. Fans are so intense and take this rivalry to such a level that it isn't even fun for me. To me, a good rivalry is still fun. Some examples:

Seinfeld and Newman

"Chaos--it reduces us to jungle law"

Sue Sylvester and Will Schuester

"I relish the thought of another full year of constantly besting you"

Lauren Conrad and Heidi Montag

"She can't come to my birthday!"

Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd

"I'm sowwy, Mr. Wabbit. I hope I didn't hurt you too much when I killed you."

Alabama and Auburn's rivalry isn't fun like these others. It's more like:

War of the Roses

Charlie Sheen and (Brooke Mueller, Denise Richards, a porn star, a hooker)

Boris and Natasha vs. Rocky and Bullwinkle

"We've been trying to kill moose and squirrel for 35 years."

I feel like, if Alabama fans were, collectively, presented with Auburn University in its entirety, and Auburn University had dynamite strapped to it and Crimson Tide fans were told "press the red button, and there'll be no more Auburn. No more rivalry. You will win every Iron Bowl by default until the end of time!" I think Bama fans would press the red button.

If Bama fans could pull a Snidely Whiplash and tie Auburn's football team to train tracks, I think they just might. 

What I'm saying is, it's not so much a "rivalry" as it is a "bitter hatred". I take no pleasure in celebrating "bitter hatred". Keep me out of it!

The Thanksgiving Story According to Wednesday Addams

I love Peter MacNicol and Christine Baranski in Addams Family Values. They show us that "anyone, no matter how odd or pale or chubby, can still have a darn good time...whether they like it or not."

"White meat aaaand dark meat, take it away!"



Blogger's note: I'm pretty sure that the actress who plays David Krumholtz's mom (and delivers the line: "Twenty grand fuh summah camp, he's "Mistah Woo Woo") was also Bitsy von Muffling in Sex and the City. Yep, a quick IMDB search confirms. I am so smart.

Oh, and in case you want to teach your children "The Thanksgiving Story According to Wednesday Addams", here's a handy transcript:

You have taken the land which is rightfully ours.
Years from now, my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations.
Your people will wear cardigans and drink highballs.
We will sell our bracelets by the roadsides.
You will play golf and enjoy hot hors d'oeuvres.
My people will have pain and degradation.
Your people will have stick shifts.
The gods of my tribe have spoken.
They have said, "Do not trust the pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller."
And for all these reasons, I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground.

Auburn and Me: A Love Story

After the disaster that was Alabama/Auburn Day 1988, I always had a t-shirt for Alabama/Auburn day, and my decision of which team's colors I would wear was based on pleasing my constituents. I found that if I wore Auburn colors, other Auburn kids paid little attention, and Alabama kids were belligerent. If I wore Alabama colors, Auburn kids still paid little attention, and Alabama kids' behavior towards me was much more favorable. For those reasons, I called myself an "Alabama Fan" until middle school.

The truth was, over time I really had grown to prefer Auburn over Alabama. Auburn and LSU were both "Tigers", which felt natural, and as I was blossoming into womanhood, I couldn't help but recognize that Auburn's colors of orange and blue were much more flattering to my hair color and complexion than Alabama's crimson and white. Auburn was geographically further from Birmingham, which appealed to my independent side, and their fans, while warm and welcoming, generally didn't push their agenda on me. They weren't trying so hard to win me over, and I found their indifference alluring. It felt like Auburn was shrouded in a cloud of mystery. This intrigued me, and made me want Auburn all the more.


Auburn: The Mr. Big to my Carrie

 Did I choose Auburn based on colors, mascots, geography, and playing hard-to-get? Pretty much. I was a kid. How was I supposed to base my decision? I thought both schools were great, academically. I couldn't base my decision on their varied curriculum, because I didn't know what I wanted to be. I just knew where I wanted to be. Incidently, I still don't know what I want to be.

Most of my childhood friends were Alabama fans, and I tried really hard to be an Alabama fan. Crimson Tide football is exhilarating, the kinship that exists amongst the fans is evident and their enthusiasm is infectious. As a transplant into the state of Alabama, it would have been easier to become an Alabama fan. They have a rich tradition, including Bear Bryant and now 12 National Championships, and the most intense fans I have ever encountered. Why wouldn't I want to be a part of that? One could justify being an Alabama fan if for no other reason than it is easier to be "with them" than "against them".

"So it's not gonna be easy. It's gonna be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this every day, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day...would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do YOU want? What do you WANT?"

I could go on and on about why I chose Auburn instead of Alabama, but I'll let another "Sam" explain it. Sam Baldwin from Sleepless in Seattle, of course:

"Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together...and I knew it...it was like coming home...only to no home I'd ever known. It was like...magic. "

It was like magic, just like Tom Hanks said. I promised you a love story, and by George, you're getting a love story!

I visited Tuscaloosa and Auburn many times, and when I was in Auburn, I felt at home in my surroundings, and when Auburn won, I found myself caring more. During one visit to Auburn, I was attending the Iron Bowl as an Alabama fan, with Alabama fans, and Alabama won. I found myself gazing into Auburn's student section and wanting to be part of it. That's when I realized I'd rather lose with Auburn than win with Alabama. It's the only way to be an Auburn fan, since any Alabama fan will quickly point out that they are historically more victorious than Auburn. I guess my love for Auburn is less about the winning (though the winning is really fun) and more about the spirit of Auburn, the quaint and lovely town, and the people.

 "I'd rather fight with you than make love with anyone else."

As for the Iron Bowl? It's always a day I just have to get through. I have never enjoyed it. Whether the game is played in Tuscaloosa or Auburn, whether Auburn wins or loses, I always manage to wander past the wrong tailgate and get verbally assaulted and physically threatened. I don't have a thick enough skin to withstand the intensity. It's like staring at the sun.

My Love of Auburn: A Brief History

As we gear-up for the Iron Bowl, I pause for a moment of reflection on the Iron Bowls of yore. Oh, and disclaimer: the anecdotes in this post are representative of my personal experiences, and are not meant to generalize, stereotype, represent or insult all Alabama fans, especially Alabama graduates. If you're a Bama fan and you read my blog, you're good in my book! xoxo

***

I was not born an Auburn girl. I was born in Louisiana, the product of two LSU graduates, and when I moved to Alabama at age six, I was forced to align myself with either Alabama or Auburn in order to fit in with my peers. When we first moved to Birmingham and began meeting people, introductions were always some derivative of this:

New Friend: Hi! Nice to meet you!
Me/member of my family: Nice to meet you, too!
New Friend: Are you for Alabama or Auburn?
Me/member of my family: Oh, well actually, we just moved here from Louisiana. We're LSU fans!
New Friend: Um, ok. Yeah, but--are you for Alabama or Auburn?
Me/member of my family: Well, neither really. We're...LSU fans.
New Friend: Sure, but between Alabama and Auburn, which one do you pull for?
Me/member of my family: Oh...um, ok...I guess if I had to choose...Auburn?
New Friend: Ugh. [eye roll]

New friend walks away. Damn it. I picked the wrong team!

Kids grow up being a fan of whatever team their parents love. My dad bleeds purple and gold. On the weekends, I was home in my LSU cheerleader uniform, listening to the LSU marching band on vinyl (yeah, we were those people) and jubilantly singing all the cheers. But, during the week, while at school, I had to pledge allegiance to another team. As for which team, my decision would win friends and alienate others, and my criteria was pretty arbitrary. That's rather tricky terrain for a seven-year-old to navigate.

I remember my first Iron Bowl in 1988. Every November, Auburn plays Alabama in football. For the uninitiated, I can't convey the importance of this game to the state of Alabama. It doesn't compare to your team's rivalry. Remember when the Berlin Wall came down? That moment of global and cultural significance? Yeah, the Iron Bowl is bigger than that. If you're under the age of thirty, that reference is completely lost on you, so I'll try to put it into terms you may understand: It's a bigger event than the premiere of the new Harry Potter movie, an impromptu Justin Bieber concert in your school's cafeteria, the Superbowl, a very-special episode of Glee, the election of Barack Obama, being a guest in the Oprah audience for her "Favorite Things" show, and a shower of $100 bills raining from the sky, all rolled into one spectacular day.

Sidenote: Next time you see me, ask me to yell "John Tra-vol-taaaa!" in my "Oprah" voice. It always cheers Steve on a gloomy day.

Ok, back to Iron Bowl '88. I was not informed that the Friday before the Iron Bowl is "Alabama/Auburn Day" (or "Auburn/Alabama Day") and that students and faculty show their spirit by wearing their team's colors to school. There was no announcement over the intercom, there were no fliers posted, it was just this unspoken understanding, and I showed up wearing a blue and white jumper and barrettes with flowers painted on them, one flower being orange. This was met with intense disapproval by my Alabama fan friend. She was sort of the Biff Tannen to my George McFly, and I went along with whatever she said for fear of being shoved in a locker. I went to play at her house before, and after noting the elephant painted on her toilet seat lid, I made a calculated decision to declare myself an "Alabama Fan". My wardrobe choice on "Alabama/Auburn Day" betrayed me. Clearly, it's a dark day in my history.

How did I recover from my Alabama/Auburn Day fashion faux pas? How did I wind up an Auburn fan? The answers to those questions and--eh, this post just got too long so I chopped it in half. Read the rest tomorrow.

Everyone Loves an Auburn Girl

Me and my ladies, 2006

Ok, in honor of the Auburn vs. Alabama football game taking place this Friday, I'm going to publish some related posts. Hopefully nothing I write will offend my gentle Crimson Tide readers. Seriously, I love what you Tide ladies have done with houndstooth:

photo via fannation

I am admittedly not very educated on the subject of football, but I love my Auburn Tigers. This year's meeting promises to be a hell of a game. I should probably write a post about My Boo, Cam Newton. Maybe another day. Today I'm going to tell you an embarrassing story about myself. Enjoy.

The night before Steve moved to Dallas, he took me out for a farewell dinner at the now-defunct Restaurant G in downtown Birmingham. It was a very classy, white tablecloth type of place, and I was enjoying a chocolate martini for dessert, which may have prompted this little gem:


Waiter: So, where do you go to school?
Me: I'm a junior at Auburn.
Waiter: Oh! My baby sister went to Auburn! You know what I like about Auburn? My little sister was a good girl when she got to Auburn, and she was a good girl when she left Auburn.

Me: [enthusiastically] That's right! And what happens in Auburn, stays in Auburn!

Waiter glares at me and walks away.

Me: Jeez, what's his problem?
Steve: I think you just called his sister a slut.

Robinson's Four Month Checkup: By the Numbers

Robinson's four month check-up today went really well. Dr. N. said his development is "excellent". Here are his stats, which Steve called three times during the appointment to hear:

weight: 15 lbs 5 oz (50-75th percentile)

height: 26.5" (95-97th percentile)

head: 17" (75-90th percentile)

Dr. N. says it's time to introduce our little nugget to some solid food! Something tells me that our little Robinson is going to like it very much.

This picture was taken after Robinson got two shots. I was very proud of my boy for being such a trouper. From the sounds of the screaming and wailing echoing down the hall, I know that other mothers don't have it so easy. I could tell some parents had more than one child getting shots at the same time. I suppose it's best to get everything taken care of at once, but consoling two or three little kids at the same time would be no bueno.

50 Free Holiday Cards From Shutterfly!

I just love receiving holiday cards! Please know that if you send me one that includes a photo, I save it forever. Several years ago, I opened a Christmas card that was addressed to the former homeowners, and the family photo Christmas card was so hilariously awkward that I continue to display it every year.

Holiday cards are a thoughtful and time-honored tradition, but in this economy it can seem cost-prohibitive. Shutterfly not only has an excellent reputation for their customer service and prompt delivery, but also a beautiful selection of photo holiday cards to fit any budget. I always wanted to send out adorable Christmas cards featuring my dogs dressed as elves or snowflakes, but I just never got around to it. Now that little Robinson is here, we'll be sending out cards for sure! If you've ordered Christmas cards with Shutterfly in the past, be sure to check out the new cards for 2010. They're all so pretty I can't decide which one to choose!

Shutterfly isn't just for photos and greeting cards. If you're planning to host a party this holiday season, be sure to check out their stylish invitations!

If you're in need of a gift idea (for grandparents, perhaps?) a photo calendar always makes a splash! Creating one has never been quicker or easier. But don't take my word for it, click here and see for yourself!

And, if you think that calendars are the only gift items on which you can plaster your child's beautiful face, you are dead wrong! I was very impressed with their selection of photo gifts. Who knows, you may one day be the proud recipient of an an apron, mouse pad, refrigerator magnet, coasters, or a deck of playing cards with my baby's face on it. You'll be the envy of the neighborhood!

For all you practical-types out there, Shutterfly offers cute and affordable options to meet your stationary and gift-giving needs by offering address labels and gift tags. Well, they've just thought of everything, haven't they?

Once the holiday season has ended, don't go forgetting about your ol' pal Shutterfly. They're still there working hard for you making birthday and Bar Mitzvah invitations, thank you cards and birth announcements. See them all here!

To all my blogger buddies out there: If you want 50 free holiday cards from Shutterfly (and I know you do!) Find out how you can participate by clicking here!

Season's Greetings to you, too!

Fun with Google

We've done this before, but the time has come once again. Here is a list of the Google searches that brought readers to the blog.

All About Bolton
michael bolton new baby

michael bolton halloween costume

reactions to michael bolton's score
why did bruno hate on michael bolton on dwts
micheal bolton what a baby
michael bolton mask


Style
how to make a cheese costume
brooke burke - what dress was she wearing last week
wardrobe department and bristol palin
5 grown men dressed as care bears

meat gown lady gaga
teresa giudice chincilla

booty bump as seen on tv

chola eye brows
pink leopard rear view mirror dice
crimson tide tattoos


Sexy Timessexy my baba mom is
sexy tawny kitaen
did miners jerk off
free hot teen sex video 2010



The Hills
audrina patride's mom rants

Lynn patridge, transcript
audrina second class actress

the hills audrina kissing to pictures
absence is to love quotes from hills show
lo the hills baby
the hills mtv all of brody girl friends


Cheerleading Controversies cheerleader booty beeg

back aching and the skirt being too tight i don’t understand
little cheerleader kicked off team


That's What She Said
chevy chase weekend update thats what she said
that's what she said
i can't stay on top 24/7 that's what she said
who coined that's what she said


Mutts, Obviously
mutts for commercials

what's wrong with mutts?
mutts 6 year old

no mutts sex




Miscellenous Reality Stars
maksim brandy

kendra wilkinson high school

olivia from jerseylicious
tawny kitaen hot


Quotations
im not the type to get involved in small relationships...
it was very brave of her to stand up to nobody at all and demand unnamed rights that have not in any way been stripped from her , because they are imaginary .

i m christina hawthorne i run this

the soup gaga very brave of her to stand up

Random
ariel with a fork
cinnamon toast crunch commercial + woman + dog
willow smith exploited
willow smith puppet
husbands against fantasy football

jenna bush hager pregnant?
workplace gossip litigations

google babys fun
babybeef CHOIS
post op gender reassignment
pregnancy survival kit
werther's carmel commercials are annoying

miss trunchbull

When Men and Women Meet Baby

When it comes to babies, everybody has something to say. I've had the opportunity to spend time with my baby while in the company of a large group of women (i.e. at a baby shower), as well as with a large group of men (i.e. a golf tournament cocktail party). I couldn't help but notice the differences in how men and women interact with a new baby and that baby's parents:


Greetings, Baby!
Women: Women can be divided into two groups: those who are comfortable with babies, and those who aren't. Women who aren't used to being around babies will generally smile and wave at the baby, unsure of baby etiquette and protocol and whether it's ok to reach out and touch somebody else's baby without expressed permission. Prior to becoming a mom, that was my category. Women who are accustomed to being around babies will snatch your baby up and hold him, rock him, feed him, hug him, kiss him, and give him a new nickname.

Men: Unless this man is somehow related to the baby, he will usually adhere to the "look but don't touch" philosophy, with one exception: a man is 100 times more likely to attempt to high-five an infant.

Look at the Baby!
Women: A group of women will "ooh" and "ahh" over the baby, ask the mother "Who do you think he looks like?" and then they'll all take turns pointing out each of the baby's facial features and announcing whether they think they resemble the baby's mom or dad.

Men: They take one quick look at the baby, laugh, and loudly say, "Well, it's a good thing he takes after his mama!" Then they slap the dad on the back and wink at the mom. They also point out physical features of the baby (long legs, frying pan hands, etc) and comment on how those features will serve him well at whatever sport those features are well-suited for.

Baby Advice
Women: Women will quiz the parent regarding baby care topics pertinent to baby's age or whatever milestones baby should be reaching ("How many hours is he sleeping?" "Is he getting enough tummy time?"). The women listen carefully to your answer, and if they think you may be lagging in some area or in need of help, they will begin doling out helpful suggestions.

Men: One man (who I was later told had been a little...overserved Maker's Mark) told me (repeatedly) that I should allow my child to explore his interests and be supportive, even if he isn't interested in sports. He warned me that if I did not support my son and play an active role in his life, that somebody else would take an interest in my child, and that I would not like what that person does with my child. And, in case his message was too subtle, he rephrased it and said that if my son wants to play piano instead of baseball, I better be at that piano recital whether I want to be or not, because if I'm not there, pedophiles will be there waiting to molest my son. Duly noted.

A Sharp-Dressed Baby
Women: When bringing baby out with a group of women, Mom's efforts to dress and accessorize baby will not go unnoticed. ("Oh my gosh, a monkey onesie! Did you know this was a "monkey" baby shower?! Everybody, look at Robinson's monkey onesie!)

Men: If baby is decked out in support of any athletic team, men will definitely take notice and comment about how baby is "ready for the big game!"

Baby Talk
Women: Women like to ask the baby thoughtful questions, and then laugh as he "answers" the question with his jibber-jabber nonsense. Also, there's coos and baby babble.

Men: Pretty much the same as women.

Post Partum Survival Kit

Fragrance Free

About a week before Robinson's due date, it suddenly dawned on me that since he is brand new to the world, he may feel overwhelmed by all of the fragrances I wear in daily life. Not just perfume, but body splash, body lotion, deodorant, etc. I decided right then that I would not bombard by newborn son's delicate olfactory senses with such pungencies, and I set about purchasing fragrance-free everything. You may want to consider this a little sooner, in case you don't have the luxury of being pregnant for ten months like me.

Epsom Salt
This c-section mama loved her epsom salt baths after returning from the hospital. It helps relieve minor aches and pains, it's relaxing, and it eases some of the swelling.

Lactation Station
During my short but spectacularly disastrous stint as a nursing mother, I acquired quite the arsenal of supplies, which I ended up assembling on my coffee table in what I lovingly referred to as my "lactation station". Some of the supplies were obvious ones (nursing pads, wipes, lanolin) and some were added as I took to the internet in search of helpful tips (vaseline, olive oil, nipple butter). I housed all of my items in a corningware dish, but if that seems too pedestrian, you could go rustic with a galvanized bucket, or crafty with a glazed ceramic bowl from Color Me Mine. You're really limited only by your imagination.

Compression
I'm told that compression garments were not always used post-delivery. Just another reason I'm glad to have given birth in the 21st century. They're standard-issue if you have a c-section, and I say wear it as long as possible. Binding helps the tummy go down more quickly, it relieves discomfort, and helps the skin to tighten up. Once my hospital compression garment became too roomy, I switched to the Belly Bandit, lauded by such "hot moms" as Brooke Burke and Kourtney Kardashian. One or both of them gets paid to sing the Belly Bandit's praises. I'll sing their praises for free. It really helps. I'm wearing mine now.

Shapewear
Wrapping myself in super-strength lycra gives me the courage to face the world. Spanx it til it fits, ladies!

Big Accessories
Do these earrings make my butt look big? No, they don't! Accessories always fit and can make you feel like a glam girly-girl, which is a shot in the arm to any new mom who is months away from fitting into her jeans. Just throw on your big Jackie O sunglasses and go on with yourself, big girl!

Coffee
It's my favorite way to get caffeine, and the best way to start my day. You're probably going to be sleep deprived. Do I even have to tell you this?

Forgiving Footwear
I started this journey wearing a size 7.5 shoe. Sometimes I would buy my stilletos in a size 8. Now I'm pretty much a size 8 all the time, and my feet were extremely swollen for at least a month after Robinson's birth. I made the mistake of cramming my foot into a size 7.5 shoe to run errands one day. Never again.

Haircut
Many will disagree with me on this: brave mommy warriors who declare that their baby will not rob them of their hotness or their bangin' hair. I agree with those mommies wholeheartedly. I don't even want to tell you that it was my girlhood dream to be in a Pantene commercial, but I will share this tidbit of information: the hormones that caused your hair to grow longer, thicker, fuller, faster will reverse. Don't fret--you won't lose hair in clumps or have bald spots. In fact, nobody will even notice--however, as I've watched about 1/3 of my hair fall out over the past couple weeks, I'm glad it's not still super long and layered. It's just a big freakin' mess to vacuum my bathroom floor every day and clean my shower drain daily. For those reasons, I'm glad for my all-one-length hair that falls just past my shoulders. See, I'm not saying to go get a bob or a pixie. Actually, it wasn't a conscious decision on my part. I just had a hormonal post-partum moment one day where my hair was annoying me and so I took a pair of scissors to it and lobbed off four or five inches. It was less of a Britney Spears head-shave moment and more of a Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite moment.

Skincare
There was so much of my old skincare regimen that was against the rules when I was pregnant. It had been so long since I engaged in my twice-daily skincare rituals that I had nearly forgotten them. Resuming this routine helps to give me some much-needed "me" time and start feeling like myself again.

What else, moms? Are there any other post-partum lifesavers that you wouldn't have thought of prior to becoming a mom?

Crazy in Love

I'm all set to whip up a post as whimsical as one of Kate Middleton's hats to announce that, after the mass marriage casualties of last month, love is in the air once again. I wish I had a trumpet. It would add more pomp and circumstance to the festivities. Quickly now, I haven't got all day:

Kate Middleton is engaged to Prince William

If Charlotte from Sex and the City were here, she'd scream and then loudly announce to a room full of strangers, "I'm so sorry everyone, but this is my friend and she just got engaged. And she has been going out with the man for nine years!" [holds up nine fingers] Then everyone in the restaurant would applaud and Kate would hide her face and say "I'm mortified!" Nevertheless, she deserves a round of applause and a tip of the feathered hat.

Vanessa Minillo is engaged to Nick Lachey

Professional vacationers and part-time hosts of awful reality competition shows Nick and Vanessa are gettin' hitched. After hearing that Jessica Simpson snidely remarked recently that "I hope Vanessa likes her clothes because I bought them for her" (meow) it begs the question: Did Jessica pay for the ring?

Jessica Simpson is engaged to Eric Johnson
Not to be outdone, Jessica proved she ain't no Jennifer Aniston and nabbed herself a fiance, too. Take that, Nick! I'm sure her people [Joe Simpson] will insist the timing is purely coincidental. Based on her new engagement ring, I hope this was hasty. I'll let the pictures do the rest of the talking. Jessica's engagement ring from Nick Lachey:

Jessica's engagement ring from Eric Johnson:

Not for nothin', but if I were her I'd just put on the first ring. I mean, she probably paid for it anyway. She can be all like, "Shuuut up! It's mah rang an' I wearrr it if I wannaaa!" And then Tina Simpson would say, "Jessica, stop talking into your margarita glass." Then Jessica would say, "But I like the way it makes my voice echo! Echo! Echo! I need a refill." Then she would belch. Then giggle. Then be like, "Wait, what were we talking about?" [eats a spoonful of guacamole] At that point, Joe tells Jessica that her signature is required for a refill, as he casually slides over a pre-nup, which Jess signs, smearing queso all over it in the process. Shrewd move, Papa Joe.
Dean Sheremet is engaged to a woman

Thanks to LeAnn Rimes for Twittering the joyous news across the world. All good news comes from LeAnn's Twitter, don't cha know? In other news, as soon as I finish this blog post I'll be returning my Gaydar to Sharper Image. Glad it's still under warranty. Sidenote: what is up with people wearing these unflattering glasses? It's like she said to herself "Ehh, I'm like, a 7, and I think I wanna be a 4, just to see how the other half lives." I'm either too vain or I don't take myself seriously enough to ever don such eyewear. Or both. One thing's for certain: if she's gonna wear those glasses, she needs to step up her brow game. Enter Dean: "Who's up for eyebrow shaping and mojitos?"

Mama and Papa Spears rekindled the spark

They divorced eight years ago, but have been seen canoodling (stop it, I just really wanted to say "canoodling") and they went out to the club and they danced to one of Britney Jean's songs, y'all! It's so sweet! Sorry--your parents are still never getting back together. Time to let it go.

Tina Knowles and Mathew Knowles press "Pause" on their divorce proceedings

Tina may have let Mathew back inside her House of Dereon. Good for her if that's the case. It takes a big woman to overlook a secret love child. I wasn't sure I'd ever have the opportunity to use the phrase "secret love child" in a sentence.


Photo credits: stupidcelebrites.net, dlisted.com

We're Way Past "Sugar-Coating"

How great is it when you get to the point in your relationship where you can speak without censoring yourself or sugar-coating anything? I asked Steve a very simple question the other day, and after listening to his reply, I realized that he would have given a totally different response to that same question if I had asked it ten years ago, when we were just dating...

Me: I want to put up the Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving. Are they in the attic in a place where I can easily bring them down?
What Steve Would've Said 10 Years Ago: Oh, no, don't you worry about that. I'll bring down the decorations. I love you!
What Present-Day Steve Actually Said: Uh...I would feel more comfortable if I were the one to bring down the decorations. I can't have your clumsy-ass falling.
Me: [blank stare]
Steve: You know you're clumsy, right? Right?

So, Steve from the past and the present doesn't want me climbing into the attic for fear I may sustain a traumatic brain injury, so he offers to do the heavy-lifting for me. Only "past" Steve feels the need to protect my feelings from the true reason for his desire to help me.

Boys just never learn though, do they? What Steve still hasn't figured out in ten years is that I never had any intention of bringing those Christmas decorations down by myself. When I asked, "Are the Christmas decorations in the attic in a place where I can easily bring them down?" I was really asking, "Will you bring down the Christmas decorations for me?" So now, Steve is doing the heavy-lifting for me, and he thinks it's his idea. And I don't risk falling out of the attic onto the concrete floor of the garage...because I am very clumsy. It's a win-win.

Misty the Wordsmith

We haven't had a Misty post in a while, but you should all be aware: she is still out there, she walks among you, she's a mother, and a licensed driver. You've been warned.

Today, Misty is learnin' us some terminology:

this Instant Message exchange was given to Jarred by his boss:


Boss: I need that rate when you get a chance
Misty: I am working on it I promise, honest engine
Boss: Honest engine?
Misty: What?
Boss: You mean honest injun? Like indian, not like a Chevy small block
Misty:  Are you serious? I been saying that wrong all this time. I can't tell you how many text I've sent with that.
 
Misty: [texting] Jay if I say "undeniable" is that like a little thing?

Jay: If you say "undeniable" is that a little thing?
Misty: "undeniable" thats a...
Jay: a word?
Misty: Yeah like if I say "you like her and it's undeniable."
Jay: Yes, that would be a sentence
Misty: Thanks Jay, I don't know what I would do with out you!
Jeremy: Misty, are these trailers preloaded?

Misty:  Yes Jeremy, I'm sorry, I have cerebral bulimia
Andy: So your brain throws up?
Jarred: I wasn't sure she had anything to throw up
Misty:  No!
Ms. Dana: Oh my, that sounds horrible
Misty:  It's not real, It's just slang, just means I'm stupid.
So, to recap: We learned the difference between words and sentences, "honest engine" and "cerebral bulimia". I think I contracted cerebral bulimia by typing this post. There is no known cure.

Three Mutts Photo Album

via Why Do I Live Here

I'm Cleaning Out My Closet

No, the title for this post is not a metaphor for telling all my dirty secrets. I'm saving those for my memoirs. This post is literally about me cleaning out my closet. Wa--wait, don't close your web browser! If you read this post all the way to the end, there's pictures!

Lately, I have been behaving like a woman obsessed--a woman obsessed with organization. I'm systematically cleaning and organizing closets, cabinets, and drawers with inexplicable urgency. If I were nine months pregnant, I would be told I'm nesting. Incidentally, when I was nine months pregnant, the nesting instinct never kicked in. Go figure.

My closet was chaos. I should have taken a "before" picture, but honestly, it was too embarrassing. Just picture a national disaster. Picture my closet as the post-Katrina Lower Ninth Ward, only Brad Pitt is never gonna "Make it Right". Don't get me started about how FEMA isn't going to help me, either.

My closet is always a work-in-progress. About once a year, I whip myself into a frenzy cleaning and organizing it, only to lose interest and momentum when the task is about 75% complete. Then, whenever I'm having company over, my closet is the place where I stuff everything I didn't find time to put away properly. I always think that nobody will ever see my closet, but undoubtedly everyone who visits my home winds up in my closet for one reason or another, and they're all, "Jeez, Samantha...clean much?" It's mortifying. If the FBI saw my closet, they'd probably search it for Jimmy Hoffa. He could totally be in there.

As I said before, I launch into a closet-cleaning frenzy about once a year. Then I realized, I always do this in the Fall. More specifically, I do this every November. It's a compulsion I can't explain. It's like Spring cleaning, but not. One year, I bought a dozen canvas totes from The Container Store. The year before that, I bought about 200 espresso wooden hangers. I have visions of an immaculate, beautiful closet even Mariah Carey would approve of:

I just need a chair, a chandelier, and leopard wall-to-wall carpet like Kimora Lee Simmons has. That's another woman who takes her closet very seriously, and that's one of the things I love about her.

Ok, now for pictures of my own finished closet. You didn't think I was going to bore you to tears with a blog post about my closet and not show you the finished product, did you? In fact, the whole reason for this post was so I had an excuse to post pictures, to prove to myself that I did it.

I have an L-shaped walk-in closet in the master bedroom all to myself. Steve insisted I have it, wouldn't take no for an answer, and by the time I moved into the house after our honeymoon, he had already moved all of his belongings into the guest bedroom closet. He's so considerate.



No wire hangers!!!

 Admittedly, my closet was more aesthetically pleasing after Closet Cleaning '08, when I made the decision to hang my clothes by color. It looked great, but it made choosing an outfit more difficult. If I wanted a t-shirt, I had to search the entire closet--color by color. It was pure hell, I tell you! 

If you look closely, you can see all my Juicy Couture tracksuits. Jealous?



Let's get some shoes...



There's just one teeny problem: I still have nothing to wear.

Three Mutts Photo Album

via Cake Wrecks

spellinggg is 4 loserrrs

So, I awoke this morning with two text messages in my inbox. One was a sweet message from Steve, and the other was from what was obviously a wrong number, sent bright and early at 6:26am:

".-iknoee riqht im finna be a fuqkinqq partyy animal for the rest of thee week.! .*' | Li'Lexuss A Fuqkinq Savaqee | '*.

I choose to believe that the last part is her "signature" that is sent with every text message.

I never cease to be amazed by what some people will do to the English language. I wondered why "Li'Lexuss" was unable to unleash her inner party animal until Wednesday. That tells me she has some sort of responsibility, like a job or school (please let it be school, please let it be school).

Even smart youngsters take liberties with the English language in ways I don't fully understand. I have a cousin who is eleven years younger than me, and when she used to Myspace me when she was in high school, she'd be like, "heyyy hows liffffe?" At first I thought it was a lazy typo situation, then I thought maybe her keyboard was sticking, but I eventually learned that it's how all the cool kids type. To be a cool kid, you have to casually mispell simple words, add extra letters to words (usually consonants), and ignore all rules regarding capitalization and punctuation. Especially apostrophes.

Steve and I have a friend who we met through golf. She is currently a college sophomore, but we've known her for years. She has worked for him during her summer break, and she came to my baby shower. She's a sweetie pie. She and Steve text each other to stay in touch. One day, I had to have a conversation with Steve about how mispelling words is "what the kids are doing these days", because he couldn't understand her text message. Now when we talk to her, it goes something like this:

Steve: [typing on his phone]. Oh, Kyndal says "hi". She wants to come visit the baby.
Me: Oh! That sweet girl. Tell her I said "Hey" with three "y"s.
Steve: What? "heyyy"?
Me: Yep.
Steve: Oh, she just said "heyyy :)"
Me: That's right. [wink]

Three Mutts Photo Album

via Awkward Family Pet Photos 

My Baby's Not Here to Amuse You...Unfortunately

Moms, maybe you can relate. If not, lie to me and say you can relate. My baby and I spend a lot of time together. For hours, I watch as my baby smiles, giggles, jibber jabbers, he makes excellent eye contact, and is engaged in whatever we're doing. Junior is socially dynamic and loaded with charisma. It's like he's dancing and singing, "Hello ma baby, hello ma honey, hello ma ragtime gal!"

I'm always happy for others to see him, whether it's the grocery store checkout clerk or friends stopping by to visit, and I can't with for them to see what my boy is able to do now! I'm such a proud mama.
Then, as soon as other people are around, his face just goes...vacant. Junior is completely dead behind the eyes.

I laugh nervously and assure them that he really is a smiling, happy, intelligent baby. To prove it, I try my hardest to rouse a giggle or a smile from his expressionless face.

My efforts are rewarded with either hysterical crying or he begins casually making spit bubbles. Both lack the charm I was hoping for.

So, to recap--

My baby when we're home alone:

My baby in the presence of others:

Baby Robinson in a nutshell:

Three Mutts Photo Album

via Your Mom is at the Club

25 Things You Don't Know About Me

First it was a Facebook thing, now it's an Us Weekly staple, I figure it's high time I make a run at it. Here's 25 things you don't know about me:

1. Each night, I take a bath in water that is so hot, if Elmer Fudd were here he'd start chopping up vegetables and trying to make a stew out of me.
2. Four Mutts and a Baby: I have a recurring dream where I "inherit" an orphaned dog, who I always name "Pam".
3. As a child, I shared a last name with a country music singer who was well-known in the 1970's and 1980's. I was frequently asked if we were related, and would tell people we were cousins. It wasn't until I was around 25 that I learned we are not in fact related. 
4. I was born in south Louisiana. Cajun Country, land of the black-haired black-eyed people. My claim to fame has always been that I was the only redhead born in Lafayette General Hospital in 1981. A couple years ago, I learned that wasn't actually true either.
5. I may have a smidge of body dysmorphic disorder: when I look in the mirror, I see a girl who is at least 20 pounds lighter than I actually am. When I see photos of myself, I am always shocked and horrified.
6. "I Love My Calendar Girl": In sixth grade, my English teacher assigned us to enter an essay contest. I was one of thirteen winners in the state of Alabama. The contest was held by a geriatric society, and the winners were featured in their annual calendar. My Nannie and I represented the month of April for the 1995 calendar. My first and only award for my writing.
7. To this day, I harbor a grudge against the late George Carlin, because he was once rude to my father in an elevator (circa 1978). ("Do you really expect me to put my suitcase down to shake your hand?") The jerk.
8. While a junior at Auburn, I adopted Laney from the Sheltie Rescue of Georgia. Knowing my parents wouldn't approve, I waited days to tell them. It was the first and only time I can remember my dad being mad at me. When I finally shared the news, I lied and said Steve gave her to me as a "surprise". My mom was angry at Steve and barely spoke to him for months, until Steve made me confess the truth.
9. I had difficulty naming Laney, because I wanted to choose a name that Steve, my roommate Kelsey, and I all liked. I finally settled on the name "Laney" when I blurted it out while holding a stack of DVDs in my lap. On top of the stack? My Big Fat Greek Wedding, starring Nia Vardalos and Lainie Kazan. I just changed to a simpler spelling.
10. I suffer from chronic back pain, stemming from a 1998 cheerleading accident.
11. The aforementioned accident took place during a football game, when a play ran out of bounds, and several players from both teams tackled me.
12. Film footage from that game (including my tackle) was viewed by both teams, as well as every team that was scheduled to play my team and the opposing team for the rest of the season. I later learned that everybody watched my tackle over and over again...in slow motion. Apparently my short and sassy ponytail whipping wildly in the air was must-see-tv.
13. The only physical traits Robinson and I share are my chin and my crooked big toes.
14. I am Steve's 2nd wife. 
15. My very first childhood pets were a scottie dog mix named Bo and a toy poodle named BJ. They were gone before Jarred was born, and to this day my parents insist "They really did go live on a farm!"
16. BJ the poodle was adopted from one of mom's customers at the department store where she was a buyer: a drag queen who wanted to give BJ away because she kept getting into his/her makeup. Mom said his house looked like Liberace's palace.
17. Speaking of drag queens, there was a period in 2008 where I attended many drag shows in support of a friend who is a well-respected female impersonator. At the time, Leona Lewis' hit song "Bleeding Love" was a favorite of the performers. To this day, whenever I hear the song, all I see is transvestites in fishnet dresses.
18. I do not own any pink clothes. Except for a well-worn pair of size Large Victoria's Secret sweatpants.
19. My all-time favorite eyeshadow is "Prop" by Lancome. I've been wearing it since 2001. It was discontinued in 2005, at which time the friendly ladies at my local Lancome counter kindly gave me all of their unused professional-use shadows. I'm down to the last one, and I'm gonna have a major case of the sads when it's gone.
20. My first concert was James Taylor with my dad. I got bored and made him take me home before James sang "Fire and Rain". We listened to it in the parking lot.
21. I always use an orange toothbrush.
22. I'm no longer active on Myspace, but I will never delete my account, because I have a good friend who passed away, and our back-and-forth messages on Myspace along with a few snapshots are all I have left of her.
23. I'm accident prone: In seventh grade, I lost my balance and jammed my middle finger during a tornado drill. The finger became so swollen, I had to call my dad to check me out of school and drive me to the fire station to have my ring cut off my finger. This was the second time I had jammed said finger. It's still bigger than my other middle finger.
24. The only actors I've ever met were Cammie King and Butterfly McQueen, the actresses who played Bonnie Blue Butler and Prissy in Gone with the Wind.
25. I'm pretty superstitious, so I'm afraid I'm jinxing myself by telling you that I've never broken a bone.

Baby Theatrics

Robinson is my baby, so it should come as no surprise that he has a flair the dramatic. I just didn't realize it until today.

He awoke this morning absolutely irate. Endless screams. It probably didn't help that I had accidentally turned the volume of the baby monitor down too low and he'd probably been crying for some time. I prepared a bottle before going into his nursery to pick him up. As I greet him, he's on his tummy and looking around and screaming at no one in particular, with the most furious facial expression. It was as if he were crying out, "Oh the humanity! The indignity of it all!" Normally, he cheers up a bit once he realizes I'm there and I pick him up. Not today. Poor Robinson. He's too young to appreciate the irony--of raging against me while wearing pastel terrycloth footie pajamas that say "I [heart] mommy". It's kind of tough to take him seriously when he's dressed that way.

Since Robinson is the product of Steve and me, I know that a surefire way to quiet him down is to present him with food. Works every time. As he's taking his eight ounce bottle of formula--which is pretty much the maximum possible in one sitting for a baby of his age--he stares into my eyes and I watch as one single, solitary tear rolls down his face. Nice touch, Robinson. I feel awful.

He sucks down the bottle, and as soon as he realizes his bottle is empty and I take it away from him, he launches into an epic meltdown with the fury of a thousand babies. We're talking about high pitched screams, squinting eyes, purple face. You'd think I'd just smashed all his toys or something. I hold him closer to me and rock him back and forth to try and comfort him. I feel so sorry for him that he's upset, but I'm the mama, and sometimes I have to make the tough calls. Feeling his full tummy and recognizing that I cannot pour one more milliliter into his gullet is not a tough call. He's just gonna have to be mad. Then, as his screaming reaches a fever pitch, and his face is beet red, he--wait for it--opens one eye to check me out. The little scoundrel! I give him my sassy face like, "Busted, sucka!" That immediately quieted him and he returned to being my happy boy.

One more thing, he's at an age where he loves putting his fingers in his mouth, but now he's trying to put his fingers in my mouth. Anytime I open my mouth to speak, he smiles and grabs my teeth. What do we think? Are we doing this now? Is this ok?

Meet Nelson and Eddy

I'm a little late in posting, but you may have heard: The Greatest Singah in Zee World's wolfpack increased by two last week. I think it took Celine Dion two or three days to come up with names for the twin boys. I was surprised that a woman who has famously struggled for fifteen years in order to have three children didn't have names picked out before they arrived. I guess you don't want to jinx it, or you want to meet the babies before assigning names...but you'd think she'd have--I dunno--a mental list or something. Hell, I could kick it Gosselin-style and give birth to a whole litter of children today and have them all named by lunchtime.

So, drumroll...she named her sons Nelson and Eddy. I know, I was expecting something more French Canadian sounding. Or maybe names of the Von Trapp children. Something like that. Eddy was named after a music producer who has played an important role in Celine and Rene Angelil's lives. Nelson was named after Nelson Mandela. You know Gwyneth Paltrow is pissed she didn't think of that first. Celine reportedly said that she only met Mr. Mandela for a few minutes, but that it had a profound effect on her.  That's all nice and lovely, and I'm happy for her. Those names are nice enough. But those names together...they conjure up images of an R&B duo, a UPN sitcom, a flaxen-hair pair of brothers singing sugary pop music:

Nelson

That totally reminded me that I had Charles and Eddie's "Would I Lie To You?" cassette single. Come to think of it, I had a lot of cassette singles back in those days. Tween Samantha was practical like that. You kind of had to be, because for every Celine and Mariah, you had a dozen like Des'ree, Martin Page ("In the House of Stone and Light"--yes, I went there) Crystal Waters, Crash Test Dummies...

Steve: Umm, I wouldn't tell people you had a Crash Test Dummies tape...

Me: I most certainly will tell people that, because I bet under their old beds at their mama's houses is a dusty old Ini Kamoze cassette.

Steve: Who?

Me: Exactly.

Yeah, I'm talking about Ini Kamoze and "Here Comes the Hotstepper" --"excuse me Mr. Officer...still love you like thaaat!" Actually, I had the entire Pret a Porter soundtrack (which sucked). Hence the need for cassette singles. Maybe you had Soul Asylum or Tony Rich Project or Deep Blue Something. Ideally, you just keep a blank tape in your boom box with the radio on, and mash "play" whenever a song by Duran Duran or Expose' plays (bonus if you can get the entire song without any of the DJ's jibber jabber). Best. Mix Tape. Evah.

Willow Smith is the new Bindi Irwin

I believe that like Bindi Irwin, Willow Smith is being exploited. Willow Smith is the new, R&B Bindi Irwin, except instead of being thrust into the limelight at a tender age by an overzealous, khaki-clad Crocodile Hunter's widow and rapping about the jungle, Willow is being thrust into the limelight at a tender age by an overzealous, cable TV actress and singing about hair whipping.

A little refresher, in case you've forgotten the horror that was "Trouble in the Jungle":

Sidenote: I wonder if any of these back-up dancers have gotten their big break as a result of this?

Do you know who would quickly disagree with me that Willow is being exploited? Jay-Z, who told Ryan Seacrest:

“She has a child's innocence but she has a clear vision of who she is and who she wants to be. I can only imagine that's how Mike [Michael Jackson] was as a young kid. When you have that sort of talent, there is no such thing as too young.”

Yeah, evoking the memory of the famously troubled (and famously dead) icon is a great way to argue your point. [eye roll] Plus, I think I can safely say that Willow Smith is no Michael Jackson. And that's not a bad thing.

Can a nine-year-old child (she only turned ten last week) be precocious? Distinctive? Yes, and yes. It's just...I don't know, the avant-garde designer clothes, the Pepe Le Pew hairstyle. I'm sure Willow likes the way she looks, but do I believe she came up with this on her own? No. And that's not an insult to Willow, I just don't think a girl her age could cultivate an image like this. Willow is a precious girl, but she seems more like an ordinary child who is being used like a pawn. Seeing parents sell their children's childhoods for fame and fortune is nothing new, but the Smiths don't need the money. So why do it? It seems to me, the person who might be behind all this, the person who most benefits from Willow's slingshot to stardom, is Jada Pinkett-Smith. I mean, Jada has gotten more publicity and attention in the last month thanks to Willow than she has ever gotten. Or so it seems. 
Before I solidified my opinion on this matter, I watched Willow perform her hit, "Whip My Hair" on Ellen DeGeneres:

Ok, so Willow is light years ahead of Bindi in the performance department, but that just means Willow is more conducive to being exploited in this manner. Full disclosure: I really don't like the song, and was underwhelmed by this over hyped spectacle, but I can tell Willow did her best, and I would venture to say that she is a better stage performer than the average ten-year-old. I decided to watch her interview with Ellen to see how they interact. It would take a very sophisticated and savvy person to cultivate the persona and image that little Willow has carved out for herself, and I was curious to see if she conveyed this savvy in an interview. Is she is a puppet on a string like Bindi Irwin, or is she is a child prodigy like Dakota Fanning? You be the judge:

Well, she's certainly precocious. Obnoxious is probably a better word, but she's Will and Jada's kid, so it's to be expected. For as talkative as she was, she was so scattered and inarticulate, and seemingly unable to answer simple questions. She had difficulty expressing why she likes to sing and she had difficulty explaining the meaning of her new hit song (not that it means very much). I just wasn't left with the impression that she's the mastermind behind this burgeoning music career and tween fashionista persona that she's crafting. I'm not trying to criticize Willow, I'm criticizing her handlers who are making money by pushing her out into the spotlight. Right now Willow is having fun, but that's because nothing bad has happened yet. Pushing a child into early stardom rarely ends well.
 

As a point of reference, here is seven-year-old Dakota Fanning accepting her Critic's Choice Award. She's young, but as she thanks God, her agents and her fellow nominees, I am not left with the feeling that she's completely being groomed and coached. I get that feeling with Willow. 

 

Final thought: that little girl is way to pretty to have all that hair in her face.

Of Course She Ordered Sprinkles...

Oh. My. Gosh, y'all! I feel so lucky to live in a time where every detail of Taylor Swift's life is painstakingly reported, because it entertains me to no end. How much are we loving her budding romance with Jake Gyllenhaal? I just Googled Jake's name to make sure I spelled it correctly. I totally had it spelled right all on my own, and I kinda hate myself for it. I need a hobby.

So, it was widely reported that Jake and Taylor--will we soon have to call them by a cute nickname, like "Jaylor"?--err. So, it was widely reported that Jake and Taylor went on a whimsical date to the apple orchard. To pick apples. Yes, people--apples! Did Jake later use those apples to whip up a batch of his homemade apple crisp (his personal recipe), or did they use them to garnish appletinis (virgin for her), or did they drop them in a bucket of water and bob for them? I need to know what became of these damn apples.

The latest "Jaylor" sighting takes place in a Santa Barbara ice cream parlor. Jake reportedly ordered Swiss chocolate chip, and Taylor chose yogurt--with SPRINKLES! [insert jazz hands]. While in the ice cream parlor, Taylor alledgedly flirted like a ten year old:

"Taylor laughed at everything Jake said," a witness tells the new Us Weekly. "At one point, she measured herself against Jake on her tiptoes." (An observer adds that Gyllenhaal "held her hand.")

Holding hands already? Has he even given her his class ring and asked her to go steady yet? I'm expecting their next date to take place in a drive-in or a skating rink. Please let it be a skating rink.

What I love about Taylor is that she doesn't try to be hip or cool or modern, and she has always been seemingly unconcerned with coming across as clingy with her love interests. She is completely oblivious to the idea of playing hard-to-get. I can tell from her songs and listening to her talk in interviews that she has a very narrow and specific definition of what romance is. It's like her family moved into a fallout shelter during the Cold War, only to emerge 40+ years later and try to assimilate with contemporary society, and Taylor's only understanding of romance and dating comes from watching reruns of 1950s sitcoms. Basically, Taylor is Brendan Fraser's character in Blast from the Past.

I know it sounds like I'm making fun of Taylor Swift (I would never), I actually find it endearing. In a culture and industry where it's considered a rite of passage to strip down to a glittery flesh colored bra top and roll around on stage...

...or dance on a stripper pole affixed to an ice cream cart wearing something that fell off the Rock of Love Bus...

I think it's great that Taylor just wants someone to eat sprinkles with her.

photo via New York Daily News