Please Disregard My Most Recent Post

This is just an FYI that instead of hiding a post that has been getting ridiculous hits from the world wide interwebs, as was my intent, instead I mistakenly published it. Again. So, if you received any type of notice of a new post in your reader/email entitled “A Bronytail,” it was a mistake and I apologize for getting your hopes up that it was a new post.

I’m trying to write again. I’ll post something soon. Promise.

Convos with the Kiddos: Part Nine

Holy cow, it’s been over a YEAR since I’ve posted a Convos with the Kiddos post!  Can you believe that?  I couldn’t, but c’est vrai! So, you would think I have an entire year’s worth of gems, right?  Well, I have some, but I may have slacked off a bit on the collecting of data.  I know, I know, bad blogger.  No cookie. 

But, without further ado, I present to you my now 5 and 8 year olds and their bon mots of brilliance:


5:  Anakin was a baby at one time.

Me:  Yes, I’m sure he was.

5:  Everyone’s a baby before they become a human.


5:  I wish I was a grasshopper.

Me:  Why?

5:  Then I could jump over buildings and jump over the house.

Me:  What kind of crazy grasshoppers do that?

5:  All of them!


5:  Do they have fireworks at a wedding?

Me:  Fireworks?

5:  Yeah, you know, fireworks that go off after they fall in love?


Talking about smoke stacks:

5:  Those are the machines that make clouds!



Preparing to go to a wedding and my kids see me in a very rarely worn dress:

5:  Wow mom, you look like a woman!

Me:  Um, ok.

5:  Or like a grandma!

Me:  No, let’s go with that first one.


Me:  How’s dinner?

8:  Good.

5:  Not good.

Me:  Why not good?

5:  My tongue doesn’t fit in the spices.


Me:  Hey, there’s one more carrot on your plate saying, “look at meeeeee.  Eat me!”

5:  ((giggling))

Me:  Don’t laugh at me!  That’s the carrot talking.

5:  Yeah, but he has a severe case of the hookabellies!


Me:  Wow, you’ve really worked up an appetite playing baseball!

8:  Yeah, I’ve worked up an appetite and a drinkitite!



Fall/Halloween Convos

On a hayride:

5:  A big fat rabbit would like this habitat!


5:  Skeletons are almost like people except they don’t have blood and skin and all that.


On Halloween morning:

5:  I wish I could fast forward my day!

Me:  To what part?

5:  To the part where I get treats!


8:  If any monsters come in here, I’ll just toxicate them!

Me:  What’s toxicate mean?

8:  I don’t know, like making them toxic?

(I thought he said intoxicate at first.  That would have been quite the defensive move!)


Bonus:  Convo with the hubs . . .

Trick or treating with my son’s baseball team and their parents, riding around on the back of a truck, wearing a Halloween mask:

Hubs:  I’m in a truck full of ladies with a rubber on my head.  I believe in safe trick or treating.


Psycho Killer, Qu’est-ce Que C’est?

I am married to a murderer.  You would think, as an attorney, I could have avoided getting tangled up with such a nefarious person, but apparently even I am not immune to the seductive nature of a bad boy.  In fact, I was not aware of his true nature when we met, nor even when I married him and bore his offspring.  It was not until recent events transpired that I discovered who he really is.

It began with a confession.  That’s right, he plainly and blatantly admitted his crime to me.  At first I was aghast and horrified.  How could he do such a thing?  Who was this monster I was married to?  He claimed it was merely an accident, but I could read the truth behind his eyes.  It was planned.  With malice aforethought.

The day in question, I returned to my room after being out in the warm sunshine all day, and threw my belongings on the bed.  I ran into the bathroom to take a shower before departing for dinner that night.  Little did I know, when I returned to the bedroom that afternoon, what carnage lie ahead.  Soon after, the man I so naively married all those years ago, entered the bedroom.  And while I was distracted by warm soapy water, he proceeded to commit his nefarious deed.  Once his crime was committed, he entered the bathroom and breezily informed me of his actions, apologizing, whilst showing me the remains of his victim.  “Man, I sure did crush them,” he proclaimed.  “I thought there might have been a chance to fix them, but no way.  They are goners.”

What he showed me was the broken pieces of a dear friend.  Her body smashed beyond repair.  I was heartbroken!  She had been big and bold and sassy.  I loved her so.  But now she was gone.

He says he lost his balance and fell.  A likely story that would never hold up in court in front of a jury of his peers.  Who just loses their balance and falls down, placing their derriere precisely on a person’s most treasured and loved object, resting innocently on the bed below?  The poor unsuspecting victim sitting helplessly as the weapon of her demise plummets down upon her and snuffs out her life in an instant.  Unfortunately, she probably did see it coming.

I examined the corpse, hoping there might be a way to save her.  Some last ditch effort to revive her once glorious soul.  But alas, she was beyond repair.  He crushed the life out of her when he crashed down upon her.  There was no hope.  No breath to be blown into her.  No going back.

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he blithely said.  As if that could make it all better.  Not even realizing how those words crushed my soul.  Obviously, I would need another.  I could not go without.  Not in this place, not at this time.  But she could never be replaced.  Not in my mind, nor my heart.  It would just be a new one.  That’s all it could ever be.

glasses new

The “replacements.”

We bought them from a street side cart in front of the hotel.  They will do for now.  But they will never be the same as the ones before.  My old friend.  I guess I will always have my memories of her.  And the pictures.  Of course, there’s always the pictures.

Please join me in a moment of silence as we all remember the good times . . . and miss my dear friend.  R.I.P. Sunglasses.

Her and I on the beach.

Her and I on the beach.

At Thoughtsy's wedding.

At Thoughtsy’s wedding.

At the fair.

At the fair.

We were having some fun in Disney!

We were having some fun in Disney!

My son being fabulous with my dear departed friend.

My son being fabulous on the beach with my dearly departed friend.

Just Another Day in Paradise

So, as you can see, I’ve returned from my trip to paradise, aka Key West.  While the Northeast was getting hit by another winter weather event, do you know what we were being hit with in Key West?  Gentle sea breezes blowing in off of the water, as we sat on our veranda, drinking tropical beverages and warming ourselves in the 79* heat, under a brilliantly sunny blue sky.

It was torture.

Snow?  What's that?

Snow? What’s that?

But I missed home.  I mean really, who needs to wake up at 9:00 am and take your key lime colored coffee mug out to your hotel room’s balcony and watch the ships as they sail by, and the busy goings on down on the street below?  Not me, that’s for sure.  I’d much prefer bitter cold temps with wind chills below zero and lots of snow to shovel.  Good exercise is what that is.  None of this lazy, lounging around for me any more!

Key west toes

And spa treatments?  Pfft, what am I, a Real Housewife?  You mean lounge around all day getting a massage and facial while drinking the most delicious (and why didn’t I think of that) strawberry infused water, while being completely pampered and spoiled by the spa staff?  No thank you, I’d prefer to just go to work and get yelled at all day.  Much more rewarding.

Key west spa

And speaking of drinking, I definitely don’t miss the Key Lime Pie Martini, served to me as we dined on a private island just off of Key West, while experiencing one of the most delicious meals I have ever tasted, sitting al fresco and gazing at the gently lapping waters on the beach just beyond the restaurant’s patio.  Nope, that’s crazy talk.  Who would miss that?  Back to just plain old water and sensible meals now that I’m home.  That’s so much better.

Key west martini

And whimsy?  Who needs whimsy?  Key West was lousy with it, I tell you.  From glowing menus, to flashing mugs filled with daiquiris, to viewing a sunset on an island where wild deer roam the beach.  It’s all just a bunch of poppycock!  Good riddance, I say.

Key west menus Key west fat tues Key west deer beach Key west deer

Not to mention all of the celebration!  A person could get a swelled head with all that attention.  Apparently, the hubs called ahead to the island, because it seemed as if everywhere we went, someone was wishing me a Happy Birthday and bringing me treats.  Sparkling Key Lime pie, mid-afternoon room service of champagne and strawberries, mid-afternoon room service of margaritas, with chips & salsa, Happy Birthday spelled out on a dessert, a special birthday menu delivered to me rolled up like a scroll . . . all way over the top and way too much celebratory nonsense for this unassuming, level-headed girl.  I mean really, it wasn’t even my birthday anymore!  For shame, Key West.  For shame.

Key west pie Key west strawberries Key west dessert Key West bday menu

Oh, and don’t get me started on the gorgeous sunsets and outdoor scenery.  It’s enough to make you sick!  Much better to be surrounded by the brown and white that is presently plaguing us at home.  That way, we get to be the ones to shine in our brightly colored snowpants and fuzzy hats!  Who would even notice us in our shorts and sandals, surrounded by all that beauty in Key West?  Nobody.  Nobody would ever see us.  Or find us . . . hmmmm.

Key west sunset 2 Key west island sunset Key West tree Key west blue heaven

So, like I said, it is really great to be home.  In fact, we returned just in time to experience a fresh coating of snow, and it looks like despite a brief respite that is reminiscent of the Key West weather, we will soon return to those winter-like weather conditions.  Who needs Key West?  Not this girl.  Nope.  I’m definitely not dreaming of the day when I can finally retire from my hateful job and move to a bungalow on the island, while the hubs goes out fishing every day and I lay in the sun, relaxing and writing, resting up for my job as a bartender at night in one of the “locals” bars.  Yeah, that’s absolutely ridiculous, and I’m frankly offended that you would even suggest it.  I mean, who am I . . . Hemingway?  Sheesh!

One Year Closer to Death

So, my birthday was last week.  And I survived it.

If you are new here, you might not be aware that I am cursed.  My birthdays typically suck and/or some tragedy occurs on or around it as a result of my bad birthday mojo.  This year, I was going to try to escape the angel of death by being completely and absolutely still, and hoping it would just pass right by me.  I thought I had escaped it unscathed this time.  Until the next day.

(If you’d like a rundown of past birthday suckage, and no, I was not exaggerating about the death part, go here to edumacate yourself).

Actually, this year, the birthday angel lulled me into a false sense of security.  The week preceding my birthday was going swimmingly.  My colleagues took me out to lunch, unprompted, to a very nice restaurant, and actually paid for my lunch.  This is huge, as in preceding years, they have failed to even acknowledge that I had ever been born.  Not just that, but when I arrived at work 2 days before my birthday, I found this waiting for me:

office gifts

It was from my secretary, whom I believe I have previously mentioned as being quite rad.  It contained a bottle of wine, wine glasses, nail polish and plastic utensils.  A bit of an inside joke, there, but basically for my lunches at work.  See?  Rad.

The day prior to my birthday, I actually received a card from everyone at work.  Another rare occurrence that doesn’t happen every year.  In fact, I believe this is the first year that I received it on time, and that I didn’t have to basically give to myself.  That was another fun one.

Then, after work, I ran to the mall to take advantage of a few free birthday treats that I was to receive before the end of the month.  Sephora was giving out a little mini pack of lipstick & mascara, I had a free coupon for a smoothie, and I had received an email for $15 off any purchase at Ann Taylor, so I hit the sale rack and walked away with 2 sweaters for a mere $20.  Once I also completed the few returns I had to make while in the mall, I came out square.  Free mall trip, woo hoo!!

bday mall treats

When I returned home that evening, I found that I had even more birthday treats waiting for me.  There was this huge box that had arrived from my good friend Andrea.  I was doubly impressed that it arrived the day before my birthday, as she is notoriously (and adorably) Post Office averse.  Case in point . . . last year’s birthday package arrived at the end of March.  So, she really got it in gear this year, and made it a day early.  I am very impressed!

bday package

Inside, I found 4 gorgeous martini glasses and some mini bottles of booze.  Hmmm, anyone else sensing a trend here?  What do you think people are trying to say about me with their gift choices?  I cannot figure it out.

After a quick review of the contents of the box, and a quick change out of my work clothes, I then jetted off to have dinner with another good friend and her daughter.  We went to my favorite local sushi place, and she too showered me with presents and bought me dinner.  It was a very good day, to say the least, and it wasn’t even my birthday yet!

On the actual day, I was playing it coy and low key, so I took the day off of work, slept in, and generally relaxed for most of the day.  Granted, there was laundry and packing to do for my upcoming trip, but that wasn’t too much of a chore, considering.  It was a lovely, stress-free day that I quite enjoyed.

Once my kids got home from school, though, the exciting festivities began.  I came downstairs to encounter the kitchen transformed into a tropical paradise.  I was informed that this birthday’s theme would be “warm weather.”  As long as I remained indoors, I could very easily go along with this fantasy.

bday decorations balloon chair bday cake

Then there were the gifts.  For my birthday, I asked the hubs to get 2 things for me . . . a suitcase and new leather gloves.  Since my current pair look like this:


He came through on both, so he did a great job.  But he didn’t stop there, of course. Because he’s him, and there are always more gifts.  More . . . interesting . . . gifts.  Such as . . .



And then, of course, there was another gift following my own personal birthday theme . . .


There is gonna be some drinking going on up in he-ah!

And . . .

bday napkins

Classy? Sure, let’s go with that.

Then I opened this one . . . in front of my kids.  Yeah, thanks hubs.


Front . . .



Well, it is the 50th Anniversary edition, so really, it’s a super special gift.  Right?  Uh huh.

The next day I had to go to work.  Which sucked, but I just didn’t have enough leave to take that day off as well since I would be leaving early and getting on a jet plane (don’t know when I’ll be back again) . . . and heading to Key West for 3 days.  Or at least . . . I thought I was.  Until I received the call from school telling me that my youngest son had a temperature and had to go home.  Since the hubs was home that day, he picked him up and took him to the doc’s real quick.  Then I got the text:  Strep.  And then I had to make a decision:  go home to take care of my son or leave for Key West in 4 hours.

At that point, the mama bear gene kicked in big time and I started freaking out.  I didn’t want to go on vacation.  I mean I really wanted to go, but I didn’t want to just leave my sick son with my brother in law while I jetted off to a tropical vacation.  That felt very wrong, somehow, and I also just wanted to go home and hug and care for my baby.  Who, at this point, I wouldn’t see until Monday if we left.  I was so torn.  And I realized . . . the birthday curse had struck again.  Damnit!

Obviously, I came to my senses, after being talked down by pretty much everyone I consulted, including my husband.  My son was on meds and seemed ok, so we decided that we would go.  So, although that damn curse had hit again, this time affecting my poor son, I wasn’t going to let it ruin everything.  The birthday curse would not win this time.  So, we were off to paradise!

February is Kicking My Ass

It’s been a rough month.  You’ve probably noticed that my blogging frequency has waned as of late.  Or maybe you haven’t.  If not . . . Hello!  Remember me?  How’s the fam?  Say hi to your mom and them for me, ok?

Anyway, like I said, this month has not been the best, and it’s more than just the winter doldrums.  Although, as winter doldrums go, these have been extra doldrumy.  As I’m sure you are aware, either intimately or peripherally, it has been one hell of a freezing winter in the ole US of A.  While I am not normally a fan of cold, this winter has brought my cold aversion to a whole new level of hatred.  And, even though I’m not one to usually post pictures of temperature screenshots, I did capture a few noteworthy moments in temperature history as of late, and will share them with you here.  Oh no, don’t thank me.  You are most welcome!

tempbmore tempcar

These were a few mornings that were stupid cold.  I know some Midwesterners were routinely seeing below freezing temps and might scoff at this, but I do not live anywhere near the great white North!  This is very unusual, especially for so many days in a row.  And then there was this:


That one pained me.  Ocean City, MD is my happy summer place.  Our family’s destination every year to enjoy a week of warmth and relaxation.  The fact that it was snow covered and below zero on this fateful morning made me so very sad.

And then there was the frozen stuff falling from the sky because of the stupid coldness.  We got some snow here and there early in the year, but not too much.  I mean, enough that my kids were constantly off and have used more than their allotment of snow days already, but not enough to really cause too much trouble.  Until the ice storm hit.  There is no messing with ice.  I actually had to call in to work and miss court because I couldn’t get out of my driveway or my neighborhood that was coated with about an inch of ice.  I don’t miss court.  But I had no choice.  We were frozen solid.  Here are some lovely pics of the ice outside of my house . . .

iceporch icetree icebush icetreelimb

But that wasn’t the worst of it.  It was the fact that everything was covered with a layer of ice . . . including the power lines.  Yep, we lost power right about the time I was calling in to work to let them know I was stuck in my house.  And now with no electricity.  Luckily, it came back on about 4 hours later, so I was able to take a shower and make dinner for the kids.  UNluckily, we lost it again later that evening as I was putting my kids to bed.  Oh, and did I mention that my husband was out of town for the entire week during which all of this excitement was occurring?  Yeah.  As is the norm.  He was out of town for the double blizzard three years ago, for the hurricane last year, and now the ice storm.  It has gotten to the point where if he is planning a long trip, I make sure we have extra batteries and that the generator is filled with gas.

Luckily, my brother in law is super rad and came over to make sure we were all ok, filled up the generator again and even brought some extra lights.  These were my favorite:


Nothing like some battery operated candles to make you feel like you are living in the 18th Century.  I was expecting a visit from 3 ghosts at some point that night.  Sadly, I had no visitors.   I also had no shower the next morning when I had to actually go to work.  Sponge bath, for the win!  Thankfully, by the time I got home from work, our power was restored.  We were lucky.  There were some homes without power for many days.  Still, you don’t realize how much you enjoy electricity until you lose it for a day and a half.

Remember how I said that the few snow storms we got early in the year weren’t much?  Yeah, that all changed the week after the ice storm.  We got walloped!  It was a double, so the first wave gave us about 16″ and snow days for everyone, including me!

snowdoor snowbuilding

So, we built snowmen and played in the snow.  Luckily, a very kind neighbor came along and plowed our driveway, but I still had to shovel the front walk you see up there.  It was hard work, but felt good to get some exercise after being stuck in the house for a while.  Unfortunately, the snow wasn’t done with us and by that evening, all of my work was completely covered over with another 6″ of snow!


That WAS a cleared walkway a few hours before!

It wasn't done yet, but this is how high it got before I went to bed that night.

It wasn’t done yet, but this is how high it got before I went to bed that night.

Then came Valentine’s Day.  Oh VD, how I loathe thee!  My husband assured me that there were 3 deliveries set to arrive that day, although because of the weather, only 1 of those did.  So, I got my chocolate covered strawberries and mini cheesecakes (yum!), but the other 2 packages didn’t arrive until the next Tuesday!  However, I did receive these gems, so it wasn’t all bad:


My husband knows me so well.  I love the poster.  It is now hanging in my office.  It is much needed, believe me.  The pink softness on the right are a great pair of comfy pants that are like being ass hugged by a soft, warm blanket.  And the candle smells lovely.  It was really the perfect thing for that day.  Not too crazy or extreme, but just enough for me to know he cares.  I did eventually receive the craziness the next week, of course.  Because, he’s him and cannot be stopped.

vdayzebra vdayzebrastanding

Life sized zebra?  Check.  Huge ass roses?  Also check.  If you have been reading for a while, you might remember that he got me a HUGE stuffed bear last Valentine’s day.  If he keeps this up, I’m gonna need a bigger house just for my furry VD friends.

Around this time, I also got sick and had to miss even more time from work.  And then, when I finally made it back to work, I get a text from my husband . . . his grandfather passed away.  Not entirely unexpected, as he was 96 years old and as of late, his health was failing, but still very sad, as he was the sweetest old guy you would ever meet, always smiling and full of joy.  And, although my father in law seems to be handling it ok for the moment, with his health issues we are worried about how this will affect his current struggle through treatment.

So, after this hellish month, I am just holding my breath for no more tragedies, storms or other horrible incidents in the next week.  I just need to survive one more week, get through my impending birthday, and then finally escape from this all encompassing bitter cold and unending shroud of white and go here:


I can’t fucking wait!  Now I just have to keep my fingers crossed that our flight isn’t cancelled or some other such nonsense.  Wish me luck!  I think I’m going to need it.

How has your February been?  Are you just trying to get out alive like me, or have you had an exciting and/or magical month?

Thrust your Hips and Squeeze your Knees Together


I love the Olympics.  Summer and Winter.  Every 2 years, I watch hours and hours of sports during a two week period.  Sports that on a regular basis I don’t have a lot of interest in, but cannot get enough of when they are all crammed together and feature multinational competitors.  There are exceptions, obviously.  I will never have any interest in hockey or long distance running/skiing/skating.  But other things that I would never think to watch at any other time; ice skating, ski jumping, swimming, gymnastics . . . I am zealously invested in during Olympic season.

The interesting thing about watching sports that I do not usually follow is listening to the “expert” commentators.  Each sport seems to have its own language and/or terminology, that most people would not be familiar with if they were not fans or participants of that specific sport.  And sometimes, listening to the commentators talk about specific sports is like listening to a foreign language, even though they are technically speaking English.

Take mogul skiing for example.  I was watching this Olympic event the other night, rooting on the favorite and prior gold medal winner, American Anna Kearney, during her final run.  Sadly, she didn’t accomplish a repeat gold medal win, and had to settle for bronze when she made one little mistake.  That’s really all it takes in these types of highly skilled competitions.


Yet, however disappointing it was to see her heartbroken at coming in third, and her failure to grab another gold medal, there was a silver lining.  Two, actually.  For her, it was the fact that she still gets to bring home an Olympic medal for her country, obviously.  But for me, it was hearing the commentators talk about her run.  Because immediately after her bronze medal run, the commentators went through it again in slow motion and gave a full description of her different moves . . . with the most delightful, unintentionally sexual descriptions of any Olympic event that I think I’ve ever heard.

Here are some of the things that they actually said while describing her run over the mogul hills:

She gets bucked around a little bit but squeezes it back together.

There’s that action, getting her tips on the ground.

Nice tight knees together.

Then thrusting her hips forward . . . pulling her heels back underneath her.  And the effect is a nice steady upper body, quiet head, quiet hands, as she swings her pole tips out.

Is that not the most wonderful description of a sporting event that you’ve ever heard?  I know it was good for me.  In fact, I’m not sure if I should be yelling “U.S.A!  U.S.A!  U.S.A!” or if I should go smoke a cigarette.  I guess I can do both.  I just love sports.

What is your favorite saucy sports terminology?

Previous Older Entries


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 575 other followers