Whether it’s in the garden, the kitchen or at a theme park, I am an unequivocal hot mess. Oh, and, I am going to be duking it out with Theresa of RockonMommies.com soon. See why.
stay tuned in!
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giving thanx for my assets
Though not a sexy solution in the slightest, sometimes Spanx are just a necessary evil in a woman’s life. Like on those white and/or tight dress days. Or those feeling a little bloated days. Or those I’m gonna be hanging out with a bunch of skinny bitches days. All of which describe my last Friday night at the track, hence the reason I busted out the pack of Assets from my dresser, 
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where are my keys, i lost my phone
A few years ago, when I first listened to the lyrics of Lady Gaga’s Just Dance, I literally laughed out loud because I could relate all too well with the lyrics, especially from my party days of the 90′s. In particular, the line Where are my keys? I lost my phone! resonated with me. I cannot even count all of the items I have lost out in bars and clubs in my day. Credit cards, cameras, clip earrings, my cookies and even consciousness that time I got roofied at Club Montage. I don’t think I ever lost a phone, but that’s because in the late 90′s
friday funday
I’m still a little brain dead from my Fantasy Football Draft night the other night at Ooph‘s house (which went really well; I came out with the nickname “The Hummer” and Drew Brees as my QB. Score! More on that later) so I’m quite thankful today that I’ve been featured on another blog. The gorgeous Sarah B of TheOhanaMama.com has started a new series called, “Meet a Blogger” for which she chose me as one of her first bloggy peeps to feature.
So, head on over to her site to read about my obsession with lip gloss and my admission of a Reality TV transgression.
Today I’m off to the Del Mar Race Track for a Girls Night Out, betting on pretty ponies and gettin’ my groove on with Super Diamond. I’m sure I’ll be hoarse from singing along all night.
I’m off to study today’s handicaps and some Neil Diamond lyrics. “Good times never seem so good.”
Happy Friday!
get on the bag
Yesterday three things happened to inspire this post: 1) I began studying up for my Fantasy Football League that I’m joining with my girl Ooph. 2) I had to talk Lily down off the ledge when she lost a game of Zingo and 3) I read this amazing article about the various theories on competition as it relates to children.
Games and sports have been a huge part of my life since I can remember and I, to put it mildly, am a highly competitive person. From Uno to tether ball, backgammon to volleyball, football pools to drunk bowling, I love to compete, and even more so, I love to win. Some of my strongest memories of my childhood are of…
shots and strikes
Why is it that I cannot throw anything but a gutter ball if I’m bowling sober, but as soon as I have one or twenty drinks in me, I score more points than a husband with a blue box? Just so happens that this past Saturday, after a fun date night of dinner at El Camino (my new fave Mexican restaurant) and a dance show at the Sushi Performance Space, Steve and I randomly ran into old friends at The Corner Bar and then ended up bowling the night away at The East Village Tavern and Bowl.
And as soon as my friend Curt said, “I’ll buy you a shot if you get a strike,” it was Game On. Four strikes later…
tussin: a cureall matchmaker
When my crack-like Twitter addiction kicked into high gear last November I remember being very nervous about everything little precious word I tweeted. Previously I had been a Facebook junkie for at least a year prior, and had no qualms about what to post to my FB friends, but Twitter was a different bird. People I barely knew, and some I didn’t know at all, were going to be reading my 140 character messages and if they had never read my blog or met me face to face, I was concerned that my sometimes snarky sense of humor would not translate.
One evening, after the evening bath, book, bed routine, I looked at the tube of Aquaphor in my hand that I had just lathered all over my kids “ouchies” and had an idea for a tweet.
