Celebrity Sighting

Sis 1 here . . .

I've lived in LA for 24 years and I seldom see any celebrities.  We don't tend to run in the same circles.  LOL!  When I do see them, I tend not to say anything, because I don't want to bother them.  But, I learned a hard lesson several years ago.  I ran into Rod Stewart in a grocery store.  I had a mad crush on that man and I chickened out talking to him.  Missed opportunity.  After that, I vowed that if I saw a celebrity that I was/am into, I will say something . . . without being too obtrusive.  I did that when I met Sean Astin.  We went to college together and we became friends for awhile (along with his wonderful wife who is a fellow Hoosier).  We lost touch after graduating from college.

Tonight, I came home from a book signing.  I've met the author, Sue Monk Kidd, four times now. To me, she seems like family, but she's really a big deal now.  Her new book is the current #1 bestseller (and it's fabulous y'all) and she's Oprah's Bookclub 2.0 choice!   So cool, right?

Right.  But here's even cooler.  I met Blair from Facts of Life, y'all!  Yup, that's right.  Lisa Welchel was at the book signing.  I swear I stared at her the whole time deciding how to approach her.  I finally just went up, apologized for staring and asked if she was who she was.  She was very gracious and kind and confirmed.  I told her how I used to run home from school to watch her on The New Mickey Mouse Club and then saw every episode of Facts of Life.  I had such a girl crush on her.  She was so beautiful and I just loved her.  BTW--still f'g beautiful and looks the same as she did back then.  I think she was a little surprised about the MMC, because everyone knows who Blair is, but maybe not that she was on MMC.  She asked my name . . . which I stuttered out . . . and then introduced me to her friend Michelle (who I apologized for interrupting and she was super nice too).  I did chicken out about getting her autograph, because I didn't want to be too pushy.  But dang, that was really cool. I'm still excited.

So, tonight, was a great night.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic  . . . .

You Can't Fix Stupid

Sis 1 here . . .

"You Can't Fix Stupid."  I saw this on a bumper sticker once and it hit home. I had been ranting about stupid people and the stupid things they do.  I kept saying I didn't understand why they didn't get it.  Why can't they do what they are supposed to do?  You've been doing a particular job for 20 years and you still can't get it right?  You've been driving since you were 16 and you still don't know how to use a turn signal properly?  I used to get so mad about these things.  I'd yell and rant and get stressed out . . . All for stupid stuff.  And then I saw the bumper sticker.  Now, I don't get mad or stress anymore.  I just say, "you can't fix stupid."  And then I move on. Well, that's not totally true, but I try.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Blog Fodder

Sis 1 here . . .

What is blog fodder?  Well, it's shit that happens that makes me want to write about it.  My divorce, my dating life, stupid shit that happens, funny shit that happens, or just shit I've seen on the internet or out on the street.

Sometimes, shit is so damn funny, that you just can't make it up.  Other times, it's so damn annoying, you just have to get it off your chest.  But more than anything else, blog fodder is cathartic.  ESD does something stupid . . . Write about it and show how fucking stupid he is.  Guy sends picture of his dick before we meet . . . Time to write about it and wonder how he thinks I'd want to date him.  High school antics . . . Never off limits and so much fun to reminisce.

So, this blog is just fodder . . . Filling space while I work out other shit in my head.  Maybe Sis 2 has something to add.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic. . . .

People of Walmart

Sis 1 here . . .

Have you seen those pictures of the People of Walmart floating around in cyber land?  I have no words sometimes.  When I first see the words, "People of Walmart," I take offense.  I shop at Walmart all the time.  I'm a true capitalist and want the most bang for my buck.  I won't apologize for shopping there, so please, no lectures about the management ethics, etc.  My bottom line is my wallet.

Ok, moving on.  When I open the pictures of the People of Walmart, I cringe.  I mean seriously people . . . WTF?!  People are out there shopping in their underwear or worse without underwear, they have stains in places you don't want to know what the stains are, they wear the most outlandish clothing styles, have the fucked up hair styles, and are just plain nasty.

The funny thing is . . . I've never once seen anyone at Walmart dress like these characters.  It makes me wonder where these folks are.  Mainly, I want to know so I can avoid them.

Seriously, if you want a gut busting laugh, go to http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/.  You're guaranteed to either laugh or cry . . . Or maybe both.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Travel Time

Sis 1 here . . .

Today, we talk about travel.  I love to travel!  I love to pack and re-pack, and re-re-pack, and re-re-re-pack . . . Yeah--I change my mind a lot so I pack several times until I get it just right.  I have learned that if I don't do this, I end up taking way too much stuff with me that I don't use.  And if I wait until the last minute, I end up forgetting things I need.  Now, I do have a travel packing list for the basics, so I seldom forget that stuff, but every once in a while, I'm very thankful that the hotels usually have the amenities I need.

When I travel, most of the time, I take road trips.  The cool thing about road trips, is that you really don't have to limit what you're taking with you.  If it fits in the car, you can take it.  If you don't need it, you don't take it out of the car.  I did one cross country trip where I took the microwave, coffee maker, and entire week's worth of groceries with me.  It came in handy.  When you stay at no-tell motel, you may not have these in your room and going out to eat on a fixed budget is a no-no.

One thing that I've learned about traveling by airplane though . . . If I can't carry it up and down four flights of stairs, I don't need it.  I refer mainly to my visits to New Orleans with Sis 2.  We always stay at the same place, in the same room.  It's a great place, but there are no elevators and we are on the top floor.  The staircase is winding and the banisters are shaky.  The first time we went, I was totally over packed.  I didn't think I'd make it up the stairs and worse was going down.  After that, I started packing less (and in a couple of instances, had a good male friend to lug that shit for me).

I just spent a weekend in Las Vegas.  I go there several times a year, so it's not that big a deal.  It's kind of my home away from home.  I know I don’t need much, a couple of changes of clothes, toiletries, and my electronics.  This time,  I had a rolling bin with a cooler in it with alcohol (can't leave the alcohol at home for the teenager and friends to be tempted).    It seems like I still take too much, but I can't seem to go with fewer than two bags.  I'm going back in two weeks, and I'm challenging myself to only one bag (and not a suitcase either).  I'll let you know how it goes.

Ha . . . Update before posting . . . I left a shit ton of clothes in the drawer in Vegas.  Damn!

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Chauffeur Commedienne Extraordinaire

Sis 1 here . . .

Teenagers are fun!  No seriously, I mean it.  Most of the time, they drive me nuts, but a lot of the time, they are just plain fun.  My favorite time with my teens (and by my teens, I mean The Boy and his friends) is when I'm chauffeuring them all over the place.  You see, my teens know that I will drive them pretty much anywhere anytime.  And, while I can't wait until they can all drive themselves, I don't really mind driving them everywhere.

When my teens get in my car, they fight over the front seat to sit with me.  I've had to put a rotation in place so they will shut up . . . Teen girls are especially high-pitched whiny.  They love sitting up front because they get the #sassyandsarcastic up close and personal and they love it.  I don't censor myself with them as far as language and what not.  They play a game every time they get in the car of "what would you do if?" . . . For example, What would you do if we made the Boy drop out of school?  Response--I'd punch you in the throat.  They love that shit.

They also love that I don't let the Boy get away with bullshit.  He can be a mean girl sometimes and they don't always know how to respond to it.  I put him in his place whether we are alone or with the others.  I love my Boy, but he's not allowed to be a mean girl.

They also love that I crank the radio and sing along.  At first the Boy would get mad for me singing, but the other teens told him it's cool.  Now, he just rolls his eyes and if it's his turn in the front he sings the harmonies with me.

So, that's why I love my teens and think they're fun.  I'll probably have another post about why I hate teens and think they should all be locked away from society in another post, but not today.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Why Do Men Want to Sext . . . Instantly?

Sis 1 here . . .

Ok, so you know I've been out there dating for awhile now.  I tried the online thing--met a few guys and kicked them all to the curb.  Some of them were nice, some were really hot, but all of them play games and lie.  Oh--that's a whole other blog topic.  What I want to know is, why they all want to sext me almost instantly?  I mean really . . . I'm not a prude and I can write some pretty tawdry words.  In fact, I can rock your world just in a text.  But, that doesn't mean that when we first meet that I want to do that or want you to.

I've had some guys after the first text start talking about what they want to do to me or me to them in very graphic terms . . . Sometimes accompanied by pictures.  Come on man!  I'm trying to make sure my teenage son doesn't sext his junk to anyone and grown ass men are doing it?  BTW--you might also want to wait on sending you picture that way . . . It's not always a go-getter, if you know what I mean.

So, here is my advice to you boys that want a real woman . . . Stop sexting and start talking.  Take her for coffee or a drink.   Talk about your life and hopes.  Listen to her life and hopes.  If you have some connections there, go out again.  Rinse and repeat.  You should not be sexting anyone, unless you're in a committed relationship with them.  Then it's fun and spices up your love life.  If you're not in a committed relationship and sexting, then you're just a pervert.

IJS!!!

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . .

Boob Food

Sis 1 here . . .

Boobs.  Did I get your attention?  Everyone loves boobs, right?  Whether you're male, female, gay, straight, baby, grown up . . . It doesn't matter.  Some women complain about their boobs--either too small, too big, too saggy.  But what we don't talk about is this . . . Boob food.  I'm not talking about breast feeding.  BTW--how awesome is that?   I'm talking about the day-to-day dilemma.  And this may not apply to all boob owners, but here's what I deal with every day.

I'm eating my meal, snack, whatever . . . The crumbs and sometimes even large bites end up in my bra. Every. Single. Time. I. Eat.  It doesn't matter if I use a bib or put my plate/bowl right under my chin, a la old fashioned Catholic communion, I end up with a full meal in my bra.  Now, sometimes, I struggle and dig that shit out as soon as it happens.  After all, bra crumbs are not comfortable.  But other times, I can't be bothered.  At the end of the day, I take off my bra and voila . . . Instant evening snack.  Ok, ok--I know that sounds gross and I don't really do that.  But, damn!  I could feed a small country with the waste.  Kinda like the loaves and fishes.

My new dilemma is this.  I was in a very long term relationship, so boob food was not an issue.  It was the status quo.  Now that I'm out there dating again, what happens if I decide to do the horizontal boogie?  I mean really.  What if the new man is going for the score and comes up with half a PB&J sandwich?  For some reason, I don't think he'll find that sexy.  Here I am in my sexy Vicky's Secret lingerie (ok, the Walmart equivalent) and he's all turned on, off comes the bra and presto . . . Here's your appetizer?! I hope you don't have allergies. Bwahahaha . . . .

Something to think about.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Continuing Tales from a Teenage Alcoholic: Bathroom Beer

Sis 1 here . . .

So many of our stories revolve around alcohol . . . SMDH . . .hence the title of the series . . . .

In our continuing saga, one time, Sis 2 and I took the fan bus to our sister, small town (the same one from the previous post) for a basketball game.  Back then, we liked to drink Little Kings.  In case you don't know what these are, they are small bottles of English Ale that fit great in our purses or boot tops.  So, we loaded up our bags and headed to the game.  While there, we went in the bathroom and started passing the drinks around.  Wouldn't you know it?  Some nosy ass adult came in and told on us.  The next thing we know, the authorities are telling us that we better come out right now.  So we did, but they didn't search us.  Whew!  But, they said when we get back to school, they will search our persons and our bags.  Yikes!  Frantically, we are trying to figure out what to do.  After all, we still have several bottles left and we don't want to dispose of them--that could get us busted too.  So, we ask my ex-boyfriend, who was older (let's call him TD) to take our bags back and we'll meet him later.  He refused, saying he doesn't want to get busted, because he is now over 21.  Panic time . .. What to do?  Our savior came in the form of one of our friend's dads.  He took our bags back and met us off of school grounds and gave them back.  That was pretty cool, right?  (Note--he would have killed his own daughter for doing this.)  Looking back now, as a parent, probably not so cool.

We thought we got away with it all, but on Monday morning, we got called into the Dean's office.  He tried to get us to get us to crack (he got one girl to give us up by threatening her with expulsion), but remember, I had been through some shit before, so I knew all his tactics.  Sis 2 and I planned all weekend so he couldn't do anything to us.  The worst he was able to do was keep us from going on the fan bus to away games.  Since he had no proof, my dad got pissed about that and gave me gas money to drive to the games.  Way to go, Pops!

And I wonder why my child acts out?  SMDH!

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Continuing Tales from a Teenage Alcoholic: Call My Uncle

Sis 1 here . . .

So, you know that Sis 2 and I grew up in a small, Midwestern town.  Unfortunately, racism was rampant then (and to a lesser extent, still is).  Sis and I though, we didn't care about skin color--still don't. And, at the time of this story, we were both dating black men.  I was dating Top and she was dating Little B.

So, one night, we decided to drive to our sister, small town for a party.  We took my car, a 1972 Dodge Dart Swinger, and proceeded to have a blast.  On the way home though, Top had to drive because I was very intoxicated. Imagine that!  So, we're driving along and all of a sudden a Deputy Sherriff (DS) pulls us over.  When Top asked why he pulled us over, DS says, "I pulled you over because the car you're driving looks like one that was reported stolen tonight."  Really?  A stolen 1972 Dodge Dart Swinger in 1984?  Come on now.  So, he asked for license and registration, which we gave him.  He got more suspicious because the license was Top's, and the registration was my dad and me.  He started giving us a hard time.  So of course, in our drunken state,  Sis and I  went off.

Now, keep in mind that Top and Little B are trying to shut Sis and me up.  They understand that bad things can happen to two black men in a car with two white women.  Sis and I hadn't yet gotten that memo, but we knew it was some racist bullshit.  So, we yelled at DS and told him he's a racist shit and a liar on top of it all.  He told us he was going to take us all to jail.  That's when I got really mouthy and told him to "call my uncle." He said I could use my one phone call to call my uncle.  I told him that he really didn't want me to do that, because if I called from the jail, he was going to lose his job.  You see, "my uncle," was the County Sherriff (CS). He wasn't really my uncle, but a very close family friend, who I called Uncle.

So, DS decided maybe he should call CS before he ran us all in.  So, he called dispatch who called CS at home.  CS ripped DS a new asshole and we could all hear it.  Not only did DS pull some bullshit on his "niece," but Top and Little B were star basketball players at our high school.  Oh yeah . . . Don't mess with our basketball players.  Ultimately, DS let us go and we headed home.  It's a fun, great story, but also sad commentary on the times.

Again though, now that I'm a parent, I hope my kid doesn't do this stupid shit.

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Continuing Tales from a Teenage Alcoholic: Where Did All the Light Bulbs Go?

Sis 1 here . . .

My favorite New Year's "memory" is that of 1984.  Sis 2, and I stayed at our friend's house (we'll call her Apple Girl).  Apple Girl's mom went out of town for the holiday, and trusted Apple Girl to stay home and take care of her younger brother.  Of course, we all thought we were doing that while having a fantastic New Year's Eve party. 

We started drinking early in the afternoon and by 9:00 pm, I was on the bathroom floor, bowing to the porcelain god.  By 10:00 pm, I was passed out on that same floor.  How sad, I was going to miss midnight, the ball drop, and Dick Clark.  I had help though, another friend (we'll call him Texas) picked me up off the floor and carried me into the living room so that I could do the final countdown with everyone.  Thanks, Texas!

The best part though, is the next morning, as we are hung over and cleaning up, Apple Girl's mom calls and says she is on the way home.  She's early!  Shit!  So, we frantically clean it all up and get out so that Apple Girl won't get into trouble.  We don't hear anything from her for days.  Finally, when we get back to school on Monday, we find out that (1) we cleaned too well, so mom knew something was up, and (2) someone stole every frigging light bulb from the house, and Apple Girl had no explanation.  Needless to say, Apple Girl's mom didn’t want her hanging around with us any more.

The good thing is that we are all still friends today and can look back and laugh about it all.  The bad thing is, we have children who are just like us.  Yikes!

Until next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .

Happy New Year

Sis 1 here . . .

On behalf of Sis 2 and me, wishing you a happy new year. Here's to a better 2014 than 2013, which in itself was better than 2012. Expect to see more sassiness and sarcasm from us in the coming year.

Until the next time, keep it #sassyandsarcastic . . . .