I have shamefully neglected my blog. It turned me to BPS (blog protective services) for neglect so now I am required to post 3 times a week and attend blogging classes that are held in the basement of the Unitarian church downtown.
Ha-I live in the South, we don’t do basements. And if I asked anyone around here where the Unitarian church was they would respond with something like ‘that ain’t that church that worships goats is it?’
Since I last blogged, Halloween has come and gone, we elected a new President, and gas has become somewhat affordable. My, my we have been busy little Americans.
I was in the local Satan Mart today and the Thanksgiving decor was being marked down already? wth-did I misplace a couple of weeks? Totally possible but seriously…..
I want to go to the beach in the worst way.
We had our picture made for the church directory last nite. Have you ever tried to get 4 girls ready for picture taking? OMG-the drama. The tears. The pleading. And that was just me.
The song “It’s Not My Time” by 3 Doors Down was just playing on the yahoo radio. Thanks, like I needed reminding.
Okay, I will stop now. Oh wait-I had to go to traffic court last Friday in my podunk little town. I was ready to say NOT GUILTY and Yes, Your Honor, I would like this to go to trial. Podunk police officer giving me a speeding ticket that I was not gonna take lying down. Lying-laying-laid, whatever. Anywhooooo, so they call my name and I walk to the stand with the “Not Guilty!” at the ready and the judge offers me a nonmoving violation with no court costs. I took the deal. When you went to school with the judge and police chief and go to church with the city attorney maybe thing will go your way. Just saying.
AND finally, sit your daughters down and have the following discussion. You know that guy you go to school with that kinda flies under the radar and is cute and smart and funny and totally nice? You really should pay more attention and get to know him better and stay in touch. Because when you walk into, oh let’s say, traffic court 20 years later and go dammmmmmmmm and kick yourself for not being aware of such things back in high school and dear daughter, I want to spare you that pain. Cause dammmmmmmm, the judge was totally hot and very, very sweet and came out into the hall to talk to me later. And can I just say: dammmmmmmmm.