I have been growing so much hair on my head lately that I actually have to spend a considerable amount of time styling it every day or else I end up looking like Robert Plant back in bell bottoms and shirt-open-to-the-navel days. It's attractive if you like dry, frizzy hippie hair, but I don't know anyone who does. Besides, it's unprofessional and I like my job too much to get fired for looking like I just came to work from a love-in.

So yesterday I stopped at the beauty supply store to buy some velcro curlers, hoping to be able to tame my mane somewhat. When I got to the counter to purchase them, I noticed something awesome on the package - this girl's hair.

I asked the girl ringing up my items if she thought I could get the curlers to style my hair like the girl's on the package. Fabulous, kind customer service person that she was, she began to tell me that I might want to opt for smaller curlers when the behind her started giggling. I was like "what? That was totally hot in 1989!! If you were a German girl."

I Wanna Be a Nacho Man

It's really nice when someone wants to take you to dinner. Especially when it's your mom and you're her only daughter and it's a special occasion, like your birthday, because then you get to wherever you want, right? Well, unless you choose Bajio because they have the best nachos ever if you get them the right way and your mom says, "I've never really liked anything I've had there. I guess I've only been there once but...why don't we go to Café Rio?"

"But nachos from Bajio are like my most favorite thing in the world, momma." I don't usually call her momma and I don't know why that came out, even my husband, who was sitting there, looked at me strangely and then repeated "momma?" Silence.

"But Rio is good, too. We can go there, I guess. I don't care." But I really do. It's my freaking BIRTHDAY. I should get to choose, right? It's not like everyone hates crap and I love it and I'm asking them to eat at Randy's Crap Village (worst restaurant name ever - if you ever open up a restaurant, don't use this).

A few years ago, a similar thing happened. It was my birthday. She offered to take me out. She suggested a Mexican restaurant. It was a local chain that I didn't know much about and had never been to and was not really interested in trying out for a birthday dinner. I offered up some comparable alternatives, noting that I'd really like Mexican food. "Well, if you want Mexican, why don't we just go to [her suggestion]?" So, we went. It was sick. They only offered one kind of beans: runny refried. And it just got worse from there. My body refused to digest it and the refried beans became regurgitated beans later that night. Happy birthday to me.

I don't know. Maybe she's getting me back for when I was little. My dad was in the army so every time we went onto the base, every man in fatigues was "daddy." I was 2, in the shopping cart saying "hi, daddy!" to every man in uniform. Or there was the one time in the PX when I was a little older and potty-trained by now, just getting used to big-girl underwear and realizing how it can creep up when I felt the need to let her (and everyone within earshot) know "my panties are stuck up my bum!"

Yes, she could be getting me back. But I doubt it. I just think I need to remind her that it's MY birthday and that according to the laws of the universe, we should go where I want.

In case you're wondering, here is the correct way to do Bajio nachos. It's worked for me since 2006:
*chips & cheese (make sure they don't broil it too long)
*either rice works great but I usually prefer the *sweet
*the burracho beans have the best flavor - refried suck for nachos black just don't taste right
*beef - not chicken, not pork, their beef is to DIE for...so yummy
*green sauce
(I'm telling you these ingredients = a magic potion DON'T MESS IT UP)
*more cheese (more broiler)
*pico
*guacamole
*ask for a couple of limes and make sure you squeeze the juice on the nachos before indulging
NO SOUR CREAM (it's fattening ha ha)

Sometimes you'll get a new person who doesn't know what they're doing and they'll ask if you want onions and corn. It's ok to add these if you like them. They won't mess up the formula.

Damn. Now I'm hungry. Time to put my foot down.

Really?

I just saw this on tv.

This program may contain scenes of sports fishing.
Parental discretion is advised.

In case your child develops spontaneous narcolepsy and falls off the couch.
I should really not even turn on the tv on Saturdays.

I haven't run since the last time. I've encountered some obstacles like searing heat, fatigue, laziness, and girl pains that I've never experienced before that led to things exploding inside me (this might have been the cause of the fatigue also). To clarify, I found out Thursday that I had an ovarian cyst explode and another intact. So to avoid exploding Tori (that is what I've named her), I've decided not to run for a while. Last night the hubs and I did take a walk, though, right over to the 7-11 for Slurpees to slurp on while we watched Pioneer Day fireworks.

Again

I should have done it again before yesterday, but I think the hour and a half was a little bit much Saturday and I was still hurting. So yesterday I did another combo walk/run for 30-35 minutes around the neighborhood. I have some issues with running. First of all, I don't like it when people see me running. For instance, if I'm in a good run and I come up on a Mexican sitting in a car listening to his stereo really loud, as it sometimes (yesterday) happens in my neighborhood, I will stop and act like I was just walking. It garners less attention and then people don't wonder "why is that girl acting like she can run when she is clearly NOT a runner?" Secondly, I have issues with my cows - I mean calves. Most people worry about their knees when they run. For me, ever since I played soccer in high school, my Popeye calves, especially the left one, have hated exercise and are determined to keep me and running from having any kind of civil relationship. Well, calves, guess what. I am determined to become lovers with running. So there.

I Ran

Today I ran and I didn't die. I felt like I would. Fortunately there was a 7-11 at the half-way home point, so I stopped and got a free Crystal Light Slurpee to keep me going. I have the feeling my body will not like this at first but will thank me for it later. Right? I'm sure the chest pains will eventually go away or I will not notice them as much.

Bird Poop

Someone at work sent me this really cute forward. Instead of forwarding it to all of you, I thought I'd just post it here for you to see and comment on how cute it really is. Don't you just hate having to PUSH 1 FOR ENGLISH? What a pain. Too bad about the carpal tunnel.

THIS SAYS IT ALL

Take Down the Bird Feeder

(picture of Maxine)

The analogy is absolutely right on...
Maxine tells it like it is!

I bought a bird feeder. I hung it on my back porch and filled it with seed. What a beauty of a bird feeder it is, as I filled it lovingly with seed.

Within a week we had hundreds of birds taking advantage of the continuous flow of free and easily accessible food. But then the birds started building nests in the boards of the patio, above the table, and next to the barbecue.

Then came the poop. It was everywhere: on the patio tile, the chairs, the table, everywhere! Then some of the birds turned mean. They would dive bomb me and try to peck me even though I had fed them out of my own pocket. And others birds were boisterous and loud. They sat on the feeder and squawked and screamed at all hours of the day and night and demanded that I fill it when it got low on food.

After a while, I couldn't even sit on my own back porch anymore. So I took down the bird feeder and in three days the birds were gone. I cleaned up their mess and took down the many nests they had built all over the patio.

Soon, the back yard was like it used to be.... quiet, serene and no one demanding their rights to a free meal.

Now let's see. Our government gives out free food, subsidized housing, free medical care, and free education and allows anyone born here to be an automatic citizen.

Then the illegals came by the tens of thousands.

Suddenly our taxes went up to pay for free services; small apartments are housing 5 families; you have to wait 6 hours to be seen by an emergency room doctor; your child's 2nd grade class is behind other schools because over half the class doesn't speak English.

Corn Flakes now come in a bilingual box; I have to 'press one' to hear my bank talk to me in English, and people waving flags other than 'Old Glory' are squawking and screaming in the streets, demanding more rights and free liberties.

Just my opinion, but maybe it's time for the government to take down the bird feeder. If you agree, pass it on; if not, continue cleaning up the poop.

---

Dear Friend Who I Haven't Really Talked to in 6 Years,
We had fun times when we used to work together. And remember that time we ran into each other a couple of years after your wedding and exchanged numbers? You know, just in case we ever wanted to hang out, although we really don't have a lot in common and never really socialized that much before? Don't get me wrong. I think you're really great. But I have to say that I'm just a little disappointed. I was thrilled to hear from you after all this time. There's nothing I love more than random calls out of the blue from old friends. I thought you were inviting me to a mutual former co-worker shower of some kind or just thinking about me and wanting to get together, which would have been just really a treat! But just for future reference, friend, when it's to invite me over to present me with a business venture...odds are I'm gonna be less excited. Thanks but no.

Love,
Kristy