I Whip My Hair...

I'm gonna go there about a few things. Hold on tight. It's gonna get serious. We gotta do this ladies. It's time.

I went and got my hair trimmed yesterday. I got me some bangs! I feel all Joan Jett. So rock AND roll! I have not been able to get in touch with the lovely lady who usually tames my locks. (Lela! Where are you???) Being in a serious time crunch before the move and holiday, I popped into Great Clips. Oh, I did it. I did it.

Before I found Lela, I used to go to Fantastic Sam's. After getting my hair butchered about 12 different times. (What can I say? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome. I must be friggin nuts.) That brings me to my first blurt out.

I BELIEVE that if you are a stylist, you do hair, are a hair technician, or you just run a pair of clippers over a scalp every once in awhile, YOUR hair should look dang good.

Even if I am going to the cheapest place on earth, I want to feel confident that SOMEONE knows how to use scissors. I used to have a pretty fail safe method for getting a decent hair cut. I would look around the place and find the girl with the cutest hair and make sure I was next in line for her chair. Now, that does not EVEN work. Hey, you went to school to learn all the latest techniques. I didn't. So why is it that even I know that if you have black hair, the white streaks in it should not be pee-pee yellow? They should be more white-ish. No?? Or, the guys and gals who cut hair in 2010, but their hair screams 1989?

(There is a guy in town who runs his own salon and has more feathers in his hair than Farrah did in her famous red swimsuit photo!)

Better yet, the girls who have at least six different hair cuts and colors in one, showcasing all the cuts they learned in beauty college. Why would they not want to show off amazing locks that their clients would die to have??

I also would like to know why they let women under the age of sixty come in and get the SAME haircut for several decades. If it were me, I would say "Honey, your hair is tired of this look. It's time to move on."

That brings me to my second blurt. This one cuts me real deep. Real deep. I am as guilty of it as everyone else.

I BELIEVE that women should change their hairstyle....OFTEN. Why do we cling to a look that got us compliments years ago, but now it just dates and ages us? NoONE should have a signature hairstyle. I am not Jennifer Aniston, Carol Channing, or Phyllis Diller.
Even though I can't stand it, I still do it!!! I cut my hair then I let it grow back to the same long blob. Then I bob it, then the long blob comes right back.

I've decided never to do that again. What prompted this decision? I saw a post about MOM HAIR. Much like MOM JEANS, there is a hairstyle that moms get. Especially new moms. It's the two toned bob that is cropped up high in the back and is in an A-line down to the chin. I cringed when I read about it, because it was the exact hair cut I got after I had Gideon. I thought it was so hip. Pair it with a diaper bag and mini van, and you got it. MOM HAIR.

Rant Over. Thoughts?

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Golly Gee Monikers...

Now that I am several entries into the blog, I find that I want to write about my husband. He does a lot of silly stuff. He makes interesting blurtations and other noises. This should be recorded for posterity, and so his children can laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

My problem...no moniker. No nickname. No cutesy wootsey love name. I can't come up with anything! I have seen DH, Marlboro Man, Mr. G., Hubs, etc. All fun and catchy. My guy? I cannot find a name that encompasses all that is HIM.

I could call him Smart Ass, or Jerkface. Not nice, but sometimes it applies. Ol' Blue Eyes is so passe. Stud Muffin would make my mom uncomfortable. As would Love Machine. I could go sickening with Kitten Whiskers, or Muffin Cake as an ode to Shrek. Hey, Shrek would work very well. He is an AWFUL lot like my husband. Again, just not original!!! I guess I could just write HIM, but then others might confuse HIM with the Lord. I cannot have that.

I have thought of his hobbies and tried to go that route. Golf Guy, Mike Tyson's Punch Out Playa, Ebay Ray, Craig's List Loonie, Big Gun. Lame, lame, lame, lame, lame! I like his chest muscles, so in my mind I shout, Chester! Uh no. Sizzle Chest? Double no. Turbo Teets? Quit it now!

I also like his hiney. I'm being flagged for my spelling on that one. Oh I gotta say it Harry Hiney. I could call him HH. Not too far from the DH, but with a super secret meaning only I will understand!

I have to stew and mull over this one.

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It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday..eeee!

It's my last day at the pharmacy. What ever shall I do? I am terrible with goodbyes. No, I am not a big crier, or a gift giver. I am downright weird. With all the emotion of the moment, one would think I would just burst with the weight of it all.

Me? Nope. I freeze. I go blank. I think in my mind, "Hey, I should be streaked with mascara, covered in boog's , flying through tissues!" It just doesn't happen. There is a safety protocol that I have running in the back ground that stops all emotional response until I am alone. I drive home, blinded by tears, crying my eyes out.

What is that? Why not share those moments with people I have told all my wacky stories to for years? The ones who have advised me, loved me, have done gift exchanges with me during the holidays? Great people who have loved, lost, (in one case lost everything in a flood!), struggled, and triumphed all while standing with me shoulder to shoulder in the pharmacy. It has truly been a wonderful blessing, and I have grown so very, very much.

It will take some time to remember some aspects of pharmacy fondly. A LONG TIME. Like the lovely folks who come in 3 minutes to close with prescriptions for Percocet, Ambien, Keflex, Diflucan, and some obscure cough syrup that was pulled 25 years ago. Or the husbands that call at closing on Sunday and tell me their wife forgot her meds and it's a REAL emergency, can we please fill it now? Sure, of course sir, what's the medication? It's her birth control.

Or the fine people who can't seem to EVER figure out how to pay for their meds. They slide their credit card before the register is even open, then when prompted to slide again, they gripe then demand to know if they will be charged twice. (Most could avoid this whole scenario if they just READ the prompts on the machine!!!)

Another fave for me is the person who has to have everything BRAND, because generics give them a rash, a headache, eye twitches, or they just "don't work". So we have bottles of Vicodin, and Tenormin just for craps and giggles. To top it all off, most people that demand brand drugs blanch at the sight of the cost, then make us switch it to generic anyway.

I will NEVER miss the addicts. It's both heartbreaking and infuriating! I feel like a chump! I have heard every excuse in the book. I know my co workers could write a set of encyclopedia's on this subject.

I know I have barely scratched the surface of a rock the size of El Capitan, but I want today to be bittersweet, not just bitter. Oh, but I have to throw in the customers who yell and scream at the pick up counter that they have NEVER paid that much for a medication (or that ALL their meds are COMPLETELY covered) but then we go back in their profile and look...lo and behold...they've paid the same price for MONTHS! One customer picked up a certain medication then when he got home and told his wife what he paid, she picked up the phone and chewed my butt out. It was my fault that they had spent all of their grocery money! She also let me know that WALMART had only charged them four dollars for that medication. After hearing that I was purposefully overcharging poor people, (she was going to bring in a NOTE from WALMART showing what they had paid, and show my store manager!!!!!!!!), I was told that I made too much money and not everyone has a job, she hung up on me.

Sigh.

I called WM. They had been paying the same price over there. (NOT FOUR DOLLARS!!!!) For months.

Double sigh.

Things I will miss:

1. Birthday cakes.

2. Kari's red hair. I love it!!!!

3. Sheila's love for her boys, grandkids, and HOT MEN!!!

4. Brenda's infectious laugh, and sharp wit.

5. Phil's drugs. (and his sarcasm)

6. Sunday's with Susan. I could talk to her for hours.

7. Mike's sweet songs that he sings under his breath on a busy Saturday.

8. Sweet loving Shawna.

9. Justin!

10. Laurie and her soft pretty curls,

11. Shouting at Steve for overrides. His love for puppies.

12. All the other great folks I have worked with, who made work fun. Corrina, Dean, Charity, Reid, Kyla, Megan, Marlee, Dave, Gordon, Judy, the bakery gals, the Starbuck's gals, the deli gals, checkers-Tina, Tony, Kathy, Ashlee. I'll miss Phyllis (sp?), Alana, Ralph. I can't forget Garth, Lana, or Amy.

So many, who have touched my life. I know I will remember more after I post this.
It's been real. I love you all! XOXOXOXOXOX!

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"Look Away! Look Away! Look Away! Dixieland

One week. Oh that gets me weak, in the knees. It's on! Like the pioneers before us (but not the Donner Party, please!) we are gonna make the trek to the land of Dixie. Sweet Home.
Just like I did a few days ago with Washington State, I will now shine the light on Alabama. Here we go!

1. Alabama is a producer of all time great sports heroes. Henry Louis Aaron, Mobile 1934. Willie Howard Mays, Westfield 1931, Joe Louis, Lexington 1914.

2. Huntsville has been deemed the rocket capital of the world. It was workers from Alabama that built the first rocket that carried men to the moon!

3. On December 14, 1819, Alabama became the 22nd state.

4. 1902. Montgomery. The western hemisphere's first open heart surgery is performed. Dr. Luther Leonidas Hill. A stab wound!

5. Alabama means "Tribal Town" in Creek.

6. The state insect is the Monarch Butterfly.

7. Washington County is the oldest county in Alabama (Tee-hee Washington-get it?)

8. Saucy star Tallulah Bankhead was born in Huntsville, 1902.

9. The pecan is Alabama's official nut. (I could come up with some humdingers on this one!!)

10. In 1866, Montgomery began operation of the nations first electric street trolleys. (Take THAT San Francisco libs!!!!)


The lists for Alabama weren't nearly as long or as quirky as Washington's were. You see Alabama is a girl gone bad gone good kind of gal. She has a past. Out of the ashes of the Civil War rose the phoenix of the Civil Rights Movement. A people trampled down rose up and gave birth to "I have a dream". A trek that began with uneasy, unsteady steps, turned into the sure, measured steps of a march. With a cadence and fervor that carried them into the history books, and reformatted the heart of America. Alabama exists as a lesson. The past can teach us, but it does not have to define us.

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Fun Facts: Washington State

Now that we are leaving the great state of Washington, I thought I would put up some cool facts about it. Here's what I managed to dig up:


1. Washington State is the birthplace of both Jimi Hendrix and Bing Crosby. Jimi was born in Sensational Seattle, Bing in Terrific Tacoma!

2. Mt Rainier (my favorite Mt.) boasts Washington's highest point. Its namesake is Peter Rainier. He was a British soldier who fought against the Americans in the Revolutionary war. (There went my theory that it was after Prince Rainier of Monaco.) (I kid, I kid.)

3. The state insect is the Green Darner Dragonfly.

4. An Olympia Dairy Queen had the world's first soft serve ice cream machine. ( So they claim!)

5. The city of Tumwater was the first settlement in Washington. It was then known as New Market.
6. November 11, 1889 (oops! Happy Belated Birthday!)- Washington becomes the 42 state of this greatest nation of God's green earth!

7. Washington is one of seven states without an income tax.

8. The oldest yet still operational gas station is in Zillah, Washington.
9. "The State Flower is Mildew" (Overheard)

10. Washington is the only state named after a United States President. You can Google it to find out who.



It was really hard not to put some super snarky ones in there. My restraint amazes me. Okay, okay here is one I found that just tickled me:

"Washington is home to the only rainforests in the US. Sadly, these rainforests contain nothing but wet trees, and don't meet the minimum requirements for malaria and naked savages that would make environmentalists give a crap about them."

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On Your Mark...Get Set...Smoke a Cigarette!!

It's Veteran's Day! A great day to remember our troops and send some love in their direction.

Boy, I sure do wish I wasn't so selfish and preoccupied with my own life. I might go out and hug some troops as they come back home. Please forgive me for being such a slacker this year. :(

In other news, time marches on and the day of the move gets closer. This means I am getting less done, throwing my hands up, getting daily frantic calls from my mother, and growing ever closer to a psychotic break. I have put way too many side projects on the list. They are small pathetic side projects to be sure, but any project at this time is just plain lunacy! (Slaps forehead!)

Crochet helps me keep my sanity intact in the midst of the storm. Since we are going to stop in Hanford on the way to Alabama, I have decided to crochet scarves for all the little ladies in my life. My friend Jen has two daughters, and my two nieces are about the same age. So four scarves. Not hard to do at all. Except when you get one done and realize you bought the wrong color and have to start all over! No its not hard, but why in the world am I doing this RIGHT NOW! ?

Tonight marks the one week mark for quittin' time! I am excited, sick, happy and sad all at once! What am I going to do? I keep jumping back and forth between being the stay at home blogger mom, and being a Pharmacy Tech. It's totally a pride thing. I wish I could lay it aside and be proud of being "just a mom". But as my friend Joni wrote in her timely blog (timely for me at least), there are just plain ol' jerks out there. Jerky McJerkersons! Yeah, they probably ARE IRISH! The ones who chime in no matter what and kill all your dreams. They usually have a tone that makes me want to spit nails directly into their eyes!! (I'm looking at you CLOSE family who shall not be named!)

Deep breath. Okay. I have recovered.

Once again, Happy Veterans Day. Go out and do what I cannot do, go hug a vet. (I am forbidden by restraining order. ;-p) Not just any old vet! Not your veterinarian! Sheesh! I mean pick a cutie in uniform and just run up and smooch him. Tell him thank you! Then flee before he calls the cops.

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We Are Everybody!!

Voting season is upon us. My answering machine is FULL of attack ads. Instead of frizzing your hair up with all my hot air, I will take things in a different direction.

It's about our differences. It's about love.

I grew up with a VERY opinionated father. That is the understatement of the past, present and future. He still has opinions on everything. Just ask him.

I consider myself to be a very conservative person. I came to this point while on my own journey. I believe there is a Creator. I believe He made all things. I believe with Him all things are possible. I believe Him when he says "Love Your Neighbor."

Not your Christian neighbor, your Straight neighbor, or your Ideological Clone neighbor. Nope. You just gotta love em where they are. Right there. Nowhere else, just there. I am pointing at a map, and it reads "You Are Here and Right There is Your Neighbor." Stick a push pin in it. Yeah, there. Make it a red one so you remember.

That said, we have to remember that during elections, debates, and family dinners, things will get heated. Disagreements are good. They keep us sharp. What they should NEVER do is make us draw lines in the sand. Or stick tape to the floor. Or cause cracks, and rifts in relationships. (Mitt Romney just robo-called me....) Let's leave the escalating to escalators.

So cast your vote, call a friend, and share a quiet non political moment. Hugs feel the same across all party lines. (See there? I just got all touchy feely.)

If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell
him is, "God is crying."  And if he asks why God is crying,
another cute thing to tell him is,
"Probably because of something you did." Jack Handey

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I Will Remember You-Or Things I will miss about Washington

I have never been silent about my dislike of Washington Rain. I capitalize it because it deserves respect. It is a force to be reckoned with, but I feel sorry for the reckoner. After seven years I have grown to use the "H" word when it comes to the rain. For those who have never been to Washington and experienced at least three rainy winters in a row I say -"Oh my gosh you are so lucky-what's it like in the real world-is it still there? "
For all that I don't like about the state of Washington (liberals, rain, Olympia, no jobs) there is much that I do. Oh, I do.

Like Mt. Rainier. When I come over the last hill on HWY 6 going to Chehalis, its there. Big as the Moon. Just as beautiful and wondrous as any heavenly body. I could stare at it for hours. The power, the glory!

I really need a better camera. The point and shoot just doesn't convey all the glory!

I will miss apple trees that grow wild, and bear strange fruit. I will miss seeing deer and elk on my drive home. I will miss the festivals that go on throughout the summer. (Winlock Egg Days!) The classic cars that come out on sunny days. Picturesque settings. Beautiful views. Sun showers! Momma skunks with babies following behind; all the tails bouncing along.

The Chehalis River with Doty Bridge Construction in the background.

Not everything about Washington has been terrible. I had two of my babies here. I had a great job with great co-workers. I have met some VERY interesting people. I made a couple of good friends. So as much as I can't stand the rain I am torn. That's the most surprising part of all of this. I am really torn. I am dying to get out of here, but not ready to say goodbye.

Safeway-Chehalis My Manager Steve was THRILLED I took this.

The delicious soups that nursed me through two pregnancies.

In conclusion (how professional!) I admit defeat. I fell a little bit in love with the crying sensitive, guy. The arm candy, with the never ending tears. That's how I feel about Washington. Sure he was beautiful to look at, but his blubbering always left me with boogers on my prom dress.

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Are you fired up??

I should be packing. I should be off the recliner and placing things in boxes. Why am I dragging my heels? Instead I am feeding my cyberchondria. Googling, reading articles, formulating new questions. I eyeball my most recent crochet project from the chair. It patiently waits for me. Like everything else, it patiently waits on me....to move....

These days my life can be divided in to two sections. Before Yaz and After Yaz. I won't go into all the scary details. But,really, I am on a journey that has taught me so many things. Things like:

-People don't believe you. Even loved ones. Sad. Lonely. Truth.

-I am more fragile than I thought.

-I have wasted a LOT of time on meaningless things. (See "Stop and Smell the Roses")

-Good Health is not to be taken for granted or squandered.

-I may never be the same again.

Knowing all this to be true, I sit here still. I need to get up and get going. So here I go! Get going!

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Redo

Well, I have redone the blog. It sucked really bad. It still might. Oh well. I am going through piles of stock photos to get the look I want. Then I might be inclined to visit more often.

Several things have happened since I last wrote my now deleted entry. I have THREE boys now. Jacob-16, Gideon -3.75, and Levi-1.75. We are in the middle of a move. A big one. After seven years of Washington rain, we are moving to Alabama. That is where my wonderful husband's wonderful family is from. I am adjusting to the idea of being there quite nicely. I am not adjusting to the ever mounting task at hand: THE MOVE. Uggghhhh. I am not 19, 25 or even 35 any more. I don't know if I can do this physically or not. Somehow it will all come together I just know it.

Things would probably be much further ahead if I did not spend so much time on the internet.

I am hoping to find a church to get involved in back there. I hope we put down some actual roots and make lasting friendships. I hope we have dinners with other couples and date nights. Heck, I just hope we can have a babysitter. Seven years without any of those things has been pretty tough. Very tough. Strip your sanity to the bare roots tough.

I will continue to look at stock photos and jazz up the place a bit.

BTW this not going to be the "I am a perfect parent blog" or "Expert decorator blog". No way. My kids scream. A LOT. My husband is really rough around the edges. He writes phone numbers and takes notes on the childrens precious art work. (Hanging said precious art work only emphasizes its scratch paperiness.) Sigh. I'm tired.

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