Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Sweet As Pie, That's Me...

…when not watching, you know, the Mavs or NASCAR...or sports in general.   

Janie Junebug (love the name, plus Junebug is a nickname of Dale Jr.’s, so how could I not love it?) was kind enough to award me this yummy looking pie, er, award, and I couldn’t be hungrier, uh, happier.  Seriously, though, Janie is an absolute love, thank you darlin’. 

So, seven random things about me…I’m going to try and go REALLY random.

  1. Not so much a fan of songs with people’s names in them.  I mean, how can you really relate to a song when it’s about someone named whatever?  Used to like Help Me Rhonda by the Beach Boys, mainly because the Beach Boys are awesome and a favorite of my parents.  But, then, Troy Aikman married Rhonda (not the one in the song. ;)) and I couldn’t quite like it as much, strictly due to a young girl’s crush and, you know, hormones.  Since he divorced Rhonda, I find it totally enjoyable again.  Go figure.  ;)

  1. Okay, so you know about my irrational zombie fear.  Well, someone asked when it started, and I’m pretty sure it was when I first saw Michael Jackson’s Thriller video.  Yeah, that video scared the crud out of me.  Love the song, though. Total Halloween classic.

  1. Speaking of zombies, if you show up on Halloween dressed as a flesh-eating beastie, please don’t be offended if I throw candy in your face and slam the door shut.  Should you try and practical joke me, prepare for a butt-kicking.  This is how serious a phobia I have over the rotted-skin-lot.

  1.  Public bathrooms are like giant germ monsters to me.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they sprouted teeth and squirted paralyzing plague venom.  To say I take extra precautions when using said bathrooms would be an understatement.  Let’s just say no sitting is ever involved (squatting only), and there is always an abundance of paper towels and hand sanitizer present and accounted for.

  1. Sometimes, when I’m cold, I’ll say, “Brr donkeys!”  No idea why, and no clue where it comes from.

  1. I have an addiction to King’s Cake—traditional kind, no filling.  One year, I got the baby from four different cakes.

  1. One of my all time favorite songs is Bobby Darin’s Beyond the Sea. 

Okay, now it’s your turn! I’m going to pass this one to my 7 newest blogging friends, but everyone, please, take it and have fun. :)

Monday, February 27, 2012

Truth Is Tuesday: A Wacky Special Daytona 500 Edition, GO DALE JR.!!!

Truth Is: If you can handle the cuteness…my mom baked a cake for the Daytona 500.  She iced it, putting “Go Dale, #88” on top.  I wanted to take a picture, but she got all Bashful Dwarf on me, saying it wasn’t good enough.  It was so adorable—I told her Dale would probably think that was really nice.

Truth Is:  For the first time, the Daytona 500 was postponed due to rain.  

It should have been a sign. 

Truth Is:  Love the 88 paint job.

Truth Is:  Monday night—Daytona 500 time.  And right off the bat, Jimmie Johnson was in a frightening crash. Y’all, you save the craziness for the end of the race, not the first lap (Jimmie wasn't acting crazy, but others were.  Danica was collected in the mess, too. I was sad for her). 

Truth Is: Jeff Gordon’s engine blew up without any warning whatsoever.  Bizarre, right?  It was about to get more bizarre (bizarrer should totally be a word.  It’s fun to say.  Bizarrer.  Sorry.)

Incredible as it was, Truth Is: Let me just say this as plainly as possible—Car broke.  Driver (Juan Pablo Montoya) lost control.  Driver slams into jet dryer.  BOOM.  Say hello to a huge fury of flames. 

Fortunately, everyone is okay. 

It was UNREAL, though. Seriously, the wackiest thing I’ve ever seen during a race. 

Insert red flag...for a fire delay.  Start waiting game.  Start goofiness.

Truth Is: If they called the race at this point, Dale Jr. would finish 6th. Whoop!

Truth Is:  Tide apparently cleans tracks.  Seriously—they were bringing out boxes of Tide to clean the track.  It was very Mary Poppins, all of them with their little brooms and stuff.  Betcha the sales for Tide will go up. 
Truth Is:  Would you ever think the song All By Myself would be mentioned during the Daytona 500 broadcast?  Yeah, me either.  But it was.  Thanks.  

Truth Is: Commercial—Fox is going to have college football September 1st.  How many months ’til September?  Oh, right.  Needed a moment to let that resonate.

Truth Is:  They actually started up again at about 12:09 a.m., EST.  And I was every bit as nervous as I was when the dang thing started. So bajiggity. Yeah, I brought out the bajiggity.

Truth Is: The number of commercials during the Daytona 500 is atrocious!  And, then, they promise us side-by-side, but STOP once the race re-starts.  WTH?! 

Truth Is: They must have heard my not-so-silent-plea to bring back the side-by-side during commercials…because they did.  My heart rate thanks you.

Truth Is:  The chunks are rising as I watch the last 15 laps.

Truth Is: Dale has no friends now; Jeff and Jimmie are out, Kasey…just wrecked.  He’s the Lone Ranger, here, folks. Frankly, I like when he controls his own destiny…because good things usually happen.

Truth Is:  Another wreck, and I’m gonna hurl.

Truth Is: DALE JR. FINISHES 2nd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOO HOO!!!!!!!! No teammate to help, no help from anyone else, and he finished second!!!!!!!!!!!!! YES SIR!!!!

GO DALE!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Truth Is Thursday--Emotional Dweeb, Yoda Dale, & Random Life Stuff

Truth Is:  I read something that suggested meditating on feelings as a way to de-stress.  WTH?  Feelings are the things that send us into orbit!  How the frig can that calm me down? See, a little irked right now…

Truth Is: Dale Jr. ripped it up in the Duels today, finishing second. 

Truth Is: Dale Jr. ripped it up in the Budweiser Shootout, but was unfortunately collected in a foolish wreck.  And, I gotta say, I think Jeff Gordon’s a great driver and all, but he seems to get a little wobbly-kneed when Dale pushes him.  During the shootout, radio communication reports said that Jeff asked Dale to back off.  Thing is, when Dale was pushing him, they were up front.  If the Yoda of restrictor plate racing was on my rear end, I’d let him Jedi my butt all the way around the track, no questions.  If there was ever someone to trust, it’s him.

Truth Is: Very happy that the two-car tandem stuff seems to have diminished at Daytona.  Give me pack racing any day. 

Truth Is:  Dad.  Sigh.  Yeah, he apparently decided to “lightly drizzle” queso (cheese/salsa) on tater tots. 

My response to Dad: “E. R.  I. C. U. Do those letters ring a really loud bell, by chance?” 

Dad, totally playing coy: “Huh, can’t say they do at the moment.”

*Shakes head*

Truth Is: I love my Mavs.  Just had to say that.  They fight so hard.

Truth Is:  Harry Potter better bring home an Academy Award this Sunday.  It will be a travesty in the film world if this series doesn’t have an Oscar to its name. 

Truth Is: Moisturizer update!  The smell—same.  The result—vast improvement already.  I’m shocked.  Obviously, I’ll need to give it more time, but the drastic difference in my skin has me cautiously optimistic that this stuff will abolish the dryness entirely.  

Truth Is:  AMC is showing Sleepless in Seattle later today.  I should have added it to my top five movies.  Anything Tom Hanks & Meg Ryan, I adore, and this is one of my favorites.  Cry every single time.  I know, I'm a romantic dweeb. I accept this.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

The Fab Fives!

Once again, Jay has come up with a super fun tag for us!  It's called the fab five.  All you have to do is name your favorite top fives in each category.  I'm pretty sure I've missed favorites that should be in my fab fives. lol

Anyway, here are my fab fives, in no particular order!

1) Tom Hanks
2) Johnny Depp
3) Colin Firth
4) Gary Oldman
5a) Harrison Ford
5b) Alan Rickman (okay, so I added one)
1) Kate Winslet
2) Meryl Streep
3) Meg Ryan
4) Anne Hathaway
5) Sandra Bullock

Movies (so impossible)
1) Beauty and the Beast
2) The Harry Potter Films (specifically, Sorcerer’s Stone, Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, and Deathly Hallows, Part II)
3) Titanic
4) Gone With the Wind
5a) Miracle on 34th Street (original)
5b) White Christmas 

Books (more impossible)
1) Harry Potter (all)
2) Bridget Jones’s Diary
3) Pride & Prejudice
4) The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
5) Charlotte’s Web

Moments that inspire me
1) The ocean
2) Shooting stars
3) Sunrise/Sunset
4) Characters that jump off the page
5) Heroism and bravery…having courage.

 Places to go (in a city)
1) Local, family owned bookstores/businesses, as well as Barnes & Noble, basically any bookstore lol
2) Passionate sporting venues (like Cowboys Stadium, American Airlines Center for the Mavs, LSU, race tracks for NASCAR, or Yankee Stadium, etc.)
3) Anywhere there’s food, whether it’s BBQ, corndogs, or Tex-Mex
4) Famous landmarks or places of historical significance
5) Museums

Places to go in the world (that you’ve been to)
1) Disneyland
2) Williamsburg, Virginia
3) Melbourne, Australia
4) New Zealand
5) Big Sur, California

Best live shows you’ve seen
1) Carole King (my first real concert when I was little)
2) Janet Jackson (for her Janet. album)
3) Paula Abdul (yep, back in the early 90s, and it was awesome)
4) Whitney Houston
5) The Sleeping Beauty, New York City Ballet

People I could do without
1) Mean, cruel folks
2) Those with grossly inflated egos.
3) People who think THEY know how best YOU should live YOUR life
4) Those lacking accountability
5) Plastic people

If you would like to participate in the fab fives, please have fun and go for it! Can’t wait to read your fab fives!

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Smelly Cat

Because my skin has decided to respond to the hard water and dry air by becoming the Sahara Desert, I’ve been forced to find a new super-duper moisturizer. 

I finally found one with rave reviews, 5 out of 5 stars.  Yeah, ordered that immediately.  Once it arrived, I ripped that stuff open and slathered it on my parched skin, which soaked it up like a sponge. 

All was well. 

Until…sniff.  Sniff.  Sniff. 

Aw, hell.  I smell like my dentist’s office.

Don’t get me wrong, it smells wonderful, but…it smells like my dentist’s office. 

This is a problem. 

I have this sometimes irrational fear of smells, namely those of doctor’s offices, hospitals, and dentist’s offices.   Hell, even the doctors themselves carry a foreboding scent.  Seriously, I’ve gagged when a doctor leaned in to look in my ear.

I’m thinking dating a doctor could be problematic?  Just a hunch.  

When we almost lost my dad, we spent a lot of time in the hospital.  Just to get past my stupid smell fears, I found myself literally HAVING to go to my one, lone refuge in the hospital—the one place I could find solace and peace: The gift shop. 

Plus, it was the one place that didn’t stink. 

Oh, Dad, you’re out of snacks.  I’ll just pop down to the gift shop.

Dad, you need some toothpaste!  Gift shop!

What did you say? You want some more mints?  Gift shop!

Of course, I think a large part of it was that I wanted to get my dad tons of goodies to make him happy while he recovered.  Heck, the day he was moved from the ER, I got him a teddy bear to keep him company. 

I honestly didn’t realize just how important the gift shop was during that time.  I’m pretty sure it was the only thing that kept me sane and made me feel like I was doing something to make my dad smile. 

Anyway, I’ve developed this scent association…with my moisturizer…and the dentist.  It made me gag.  So, now I have this scary-doctor-smell on my skin…and no gift shop.

Most people would think it smells wonderful. 

To me, I’m smelly cat.  Actually, I’m smelly cat with a gagging problem.

If the stuff doesn’t work PERFECTLY, then I’ll happily return it. Bye-bye smelly cat.

If, however, it works, then I guess I’ll be gagging my way to sweet skin.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Truth Is Thursday--Puppies Bark It, Mom Says It, & Whitney Sings It

Truth Is: Little Malachy, the darling, wobbly Pekingese, won Best In Show at Westminster this week.  This was his 115th best in show title.  He’s such a precious little peanut!

Credit: Craig Ruttle/AP

Truth Is: Me: “Just once, I’d like to be a dog handler at Westminster.”

Mom: “You’d be great.  Animals love you.  But—”

Me: “But what?”

Mom: “Well, you’d look lovely out there…until you trip and face-plant on the carpet in front of the judge.” 

Me: “Great.  Thanks.”

Mom laughs.  I sulk…then laugh at the mental imagery.  

Truth Is: The weather is seriously screwing with my sinuses.  Can Mother Nature kindly make up her mind on what season this is?

Truth Is: Mom never ceases to amaze me with some of her out-of-the-blue sayings.  The other day, in the middle of conversation, she blurts out, “Oh, holy Jiminy Crickets, I forgot to make my Jell-O.” Holy Jiminy Crickets?! She has never said that a day in her life! LOL  

Truth Is: My Mavs are on a roll!!!!!!! Whoop! Whoop! Love watching them play!

Truth Is:  NASCAR.  Budweiser Shootout.  Saturday night.  I’m so there.  Let’s go 88—rip it up.

Truth Is:  Last weekend, music lost a legend.  Whitney Houston’s voice was a once in a lifetime phenomenon.  I’ll never forget the time my mom, dad, and I went to see her live in concert.  She still had that powerhouse voice and put on quite a show, singing all her classics.  I even remember our section winning the “shoop-shoop” contest.  It was a great night with my family, watching a musical icon.  

She personified talent--no gimmicks, no publicity stunts...just one massively powerful voice.  

Though Whitney’s gone, her music will live on.  I hope she has found peace. 

I remember watching this performance live on MTV with my mom—it was probably my favorite LIVE performance she gave (apart from the National Anthem).  If you haven’t seen it, take a listen when you have a second, and remember her for her God-given talent.  Peace to you, Whitney.

Whitney Houston, Why Does It Hurt So Bad


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A Valentine's Reboot, Part Two

And today's Vomit Day.  Yay.  Can you feel the enthusiasm?  Anyway, here's part two of my Valentine's date from hell. 


Driveway Roadkill, Part Two

Aside from the occasional raspberry when I would forget to lift before moving, dinner went quite smoothly. No food drops, food flings, or gags...that is until Mr. Leaver made me try to eat something, knowing I thought they looked like little bits of mushy cow's brain.

Mr. Leaver: "Just try one for me."

Me: "Oh, all right, but I won't like it."

Mr. Leaver: "You'll like this one."

So, I tried it. Didn't like it. Mr. Leaver started grinning at me while I tried to choke the thing down. I made a very tiny ewy-ick face at him, just to make him laugh.

It's quite unfortunate that at that precise moment, the chef came out and wanted to know how everyone enjoyed their meals.

To make matters worse, my date's family was pretty well-known in the community, so the chef, proud of his work, looked to us first.


Poor thing--he seemed so anxious to know if we found his cooking satisfactory. Beaming, he looked to me first. Can you guess what he saw?

You guessed it: The leather-pants-wearing-faux-flatulence-problem girl, wearing the ewy-ick expression on her face.

His face went pale; I really thought he might vomit, which would have been very bad, since the little mushy brain-like thing in my mouth pushed me to the ragged edge of vomitville.

I swallowed the last bit as quickly as I could, coughed a little, made a small gagging sound, nervously (sadly) moved in my chair, and tried to assure him that his meal was delicious.

Not thinking he bought it. Not sure if it was the expression, cough, gag, or faux fart that didn't convince him.

Sigh. I do hope he understood after everything.

After dinner: Once in the car, I could tell something was off about Mr. Leaver. Was it the pants? The ewy-ick face? Ugh, the faux-flatulence?

I should point out that Mr. Leaver did NOT bring me any flowers or candy or a cuddly for Valentine's Day. His reason? Because he wanted to take it slow (fine by me!) and he didn't want to "scare" me off. **He knew about Wasn't**  

NOTE: He had not even tried to KISS me yet, much to my surprise.

As the radio played one of my favorite songs, Mr. Leaver fumbled about for a CD. He cut off the radio, put in the CD, and immediately started playing a specific song, saying, "I want you to hear this one."


He picked a song that had a very clear message...and it didn't include sleep. Now, the song wasn't Bump N' Grind or Freak Me (those were really good songs, weren't they? Sorry, momentary mind melt), but I got the message.

I can't remember the song specifically--probably because my leather pants and I were busy visiting sweatville all over again--but I do recall some of it was very, very sweet and complementary...still, I got the jist of what it was saying.

He wants to take it slow. He hasn't held my hand.  He hasn't kissed me.  Yet, he wants to go have sex?? 


I didn't say anything, apart from commenting on what a pretty song it was; he didn't say anything. It was THE most awkward drive home. He never followed up with anything.

I kind-of think he wanted me to initiate something...suggest we go back to his place, perhaps. I didn't know what to do...usually the guy actually makes a move or suggests going back to his place...SOMETHING. This was new to me.

So, play a song, and I'm expected to recommend the sex??? Total confusion.

Next thing I know, Mr. Leaver says: "I'm just going to take you back home tonight.  I have an early day tomorrow. Hope you don't mind." His tone was a bit cold, at least to me.

It was pretty early for a date to end. My initial translation on his words: "You didn't pick up on my song and suggest going back to my place, so I'm gonna pout now." I could have been wrong, but that's how it came off.

After the longest drive ever--where I tried to make conversation and he just seemed distant--we finally pulled into my very icy driveway.

We paused for a moment. I felt bad. I didn't want the date to end all awkward and full of misunderstanding. So, I tried to imply that we could take things to the next level (i.e. kissing...since I was a little confused as to why that hadn't happened yet).

Whatever.  It didn't take.

Hmm. Why isn't he moving from that nice warm seat to walk me to my door? Maybe say goodnight with a Valentine's kiss??  Ah, I get it, he's not gonna do either. 

He literally dropped me in the middle of my driveway and drove off without making sure I made it safely to my door.

Nope. I was left in the dark, in the middle of my icy driveway, in leather pants, and brand new heels.

Maybe I misread everything, but I still think, no matter what, you see your date makes it to her door safely... especially a Valentine's date. I'm a southern girl, remember.

I scraped and slid my way to the door, looking like something between the Hunchback of Notre Dame and a turtle. During my long hobbit-like walk to the door, several thoughts ticked across my mind:

What happened to "taking it slow?"

Ya haven't kissed me, but you want to have sex? Huh?

Play a song = girl suggesting sex? Really?  

Am I totally wrong, here?
Once I made it safely inside--shocked I didn't fall on my arse--I closed the door on Valentine's Day forever...and wearing leather pants on a formal date.

After about three days of nothing, he called and started calling me "honey" and "dear" and I think even "darling." It was strange and, yet, totally par for the course.

So, there you have it, my top three worst Vomit Days. I think the only reason I don't have more is because of my tendency to hide this time of year. If history is any indication, it's a dang good thing I do.

To all of you who love V-Day: Happy Valentine's Day to you. {{{HUGS}}}

To all of you who don't: Happy February 15th...a.k.a. The Chocolate Sale Day! {{{HUGS}}}

Monday, February 13, 2012

A Valentine's Reboot, Part One

Since tomorrow is the dreaded day, I figured I'd re-post a couple of my classic V-Day failures (and I do mean failures). 

One day, I hope to have at least ONE good V-Day.  Heck, I'd take one relatively decent 14th O'Feb.  I've always thought that one good V-Day would forever change my thoughts on this drab time of year. 

But, for the time being, I hope these failures will give you some insight into my sheer disdain for Vomit Day.  

Driveway Roadkill, Part One:

Who: We'll call him Mr. Leaver.

Date: 3rd. a.k.a. the expected sex date...on my very first official V-Day date. Fabulous timing.

Mood: Excited, hopeful, happy.

Outfit: Oooh, a good one--leather pants, brand new pink top, brand new, tastefully sexy boots with a decent size heel on them. 

Restaurant: Quaint, converted house.  Picture a mid-size bar adjacent a surprisingly small dining area--very intimate. The overwhelmingly quiet atmosphere around the bar and dining area made me nervous.

Me + new heels + small area + insane quiet = possible catastrophe.

Mr. Leaver: "Let's sit at the bar while they're getting our table ready."

The bar stools were unusually tall...dangerously so, actually. With my nice new heels, I lifted and balanced myself gracefully onto the stool. Phew.

Mr. Leaver and I talked for a few moments before he left to go talk to someone (I think he wanted to greet someone his family knew...that whole bit is a blur).

While my date did whatever, the front of house informed me that our table was ready.

*Keep in mind, the following happened very quickly, but it felt like slow motion*

As I tried to slide off the stool, I discovered something the mean science teachers failed to tell us in school:

leather pants + wooden seat = inability to slide, slight stuck feeling, and manufactured farting sounds when attempting to move.

Now, I don't know if there were some unknown variables, like whatever they used to clean the wood, the type of wood, or the type of leather pants I had on, but my rear end was essentially STUCK. 

Oh. Holy. God. 

The height of the stools were such that I couldn't put my foot down and hop off without the possibility of my leathery bottom bringing the stool crashing to the ground. And, as we have already learned, I cannot simply slide off without sounding like I had a flatulence problem.

Growing very hot, I began to sweat--not a good mix with leather.

I had to get off this stupid stool.  I slowly lifted my rear, one bum cheek at a time, and tried to ease myself forward until my feet could touch the floor. In doing so, these very strange *FLAWP* *FLAWP* peeling sounds rang out from my derriere.

The people at the tables closest to the bar kept a measuring eye on me; I couldn't tell if they were amused or if they were waiting to see if I would fall off the stool.

By this time, my feet were halfway to the floor, my body was slightly tilted on the stool, and I was in deep danger of the whole stool tipping over should I move one more inch.

I dared to try one more little slide. The only thing I accomplished was the sound of gas.

Grab Guy (sitting behind me at the bar): "You okay, there?"

Me: "I can't get off the stool."

Grab Guy: "Why?"

Me: "My leather pants--they're sticking to the wood. I need you to lift me off the stool."

Grab Guy: "Um, how?"

Me, sighing: "I need you to stick your hands under my bottom and just...peel me up."

Grab Guy, laughing: "I would, but I have a girlfriend."

Me: "I'm not asking you to grope me...just kindly help me off this thing, otherwise my pants will continue to make obscene sounds and eventually succeed in knocking over the stool. Please, I need your help...I can't reach the floor. Now, stick your hands under there and peel!"

Grab Guy, quite literally laughing his rear end off, aided in my dilemma, and I was able to hop off the stool with his, um, forklift-type-help. I did stumble a bit and, in doing so, my heels made an appallingly loud clip-clopping sound as people turned to look at the crazed leather-pants-wearing girl.

I thanked Grab Guy, and rejoined Mr. Leaver--the clip-clopping prompted him to leave his acquaintances and attend to his frazzled date. After assuring Mr. Leaver that all was well, we followed the waiter to our table...

...which had wooden seats.

It was only the beginning.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Truth Is Thursday--Voldemort Headaches, Grease, & A Face-Plant

Truth Is:  Thanks to a hellish headache that took over my brain like Voldemort, I’m now backed up on e-mails. 

Truth Is:  I tripped on my computer chord and did a face-plant into my chair (thankfully, it was a soft landing).  It’s one of those things you’re super glad no one witnessed.

Truth Is:  Wish I could charge guys for saying douche-y things. 

Truth Is: Heard You’re The One That I Want from Grease on the radio the other day.  It reminded me of the time some guy said I was too much of a Sandy for him to date.  My comeback at the time was, “Well, Sandy was good enough for John Travolta, but whatever.” 

Today, I’d probably remind him that even Sandy can channel her inner sexy, pull out the black leather and red lipstick, and show that sweet can be sexy, too.  Then, I’d tell him he’s not the one that I want (maybe I’d sing it…maybe not). 

And for the record, he wasn’t a John Travolta. 

Truth Is:  I had more to say, but I’ve plum forgot.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

True Blood Tuesday: Season 5 Teasers!

Summer will soon be upon us, and with it comes a new season of vampires, werewolves, witches, shifters, and fairies, oh my!

To tide you over, the stars of the show have unearthed some tasty little morsels for all you fang-fans.

* Vampire Central: The new season is rumored to be vampire-centered, which makes sense with vampire-slayer-wannabe Steve Newlin now going vamp, not to mention the possibility of Russell breaking free from his cement coffin.

* Jason: Jason will have a great deal of responsibility this season, especially considering Andy isn't handling his sheriff duties very well.

* Sam & Luna: Luna understands Sam in a way no one else could, and her hope for him remains constant.  She is Sam's shifter-soul mate. (Awww, I love these two together!)

* Arlene & Terry: The baby demon storyline seems to have met its last days (thank goodness), but things aren't going to be all sunshine and roses for Arlene and Terry.  Patrick Devins--Scott Foley, of Felicity fame--will definitely muddy the waters for them.  (very curious about this story) 

* Alcide: Finally, Joe Manganiello revealed that our favorite werewolf will get a little bit mean this season, saying Al will "...slam you up against the wall and go for it." (Um.  Promise?  *blushes* Sorry. Hormones.)

And finally, we have a little teaser video from HBO! I think this points to crazy Russell coming back.  What do y'all think?

Monday, February 6, 2012

Monday Music & Total Randomness

It's time for a mind dump Monday!  (I apologize in advance)

*  Congrats to the Giants & their fans! The Manning family DNA might as well be designated "superhero-esque." No one can say Eli isn't as good as Tom Brady now, and I'm happy for him--imagine having to live in the shadow of Peyton Manning? I mean, that's an impressively intimidating shadow!  Think Eli is creating his own shadow now. ;)

*  I thought Madonna put on an awesome halftime show. People are sooooo quick to point out her near-fall, some awkward dancing, and her lip-syncing, but, dang, she IS 53 years young, folks! Stop the nitpicking.  She looked fantastic and gave fans their money's worth.  Frankly, like my mom said, it was one of the best halftime shows we've had in a long time.

* Okay, I'm about to have a real stupid fan-girl moment (you've been forewarned).  NASCAR is about to start! *SQUEAL*  The sound of roaring engines, lug nuts flying around, tires, track suits, spiffy painted cars, the Boogity, boogity, boogity, let's go racin' boys...sigh.   So. Excited.  GO DALE!!!!!!!  Okay, end of fan-girl moment.

* Pretty sure I have Super Bowl coma because today doesn't even feel like a all--more like Sunday, Part II.

This song ALWAYS brightens my day--I just think it's so sexy and fun.  So, turn up the volume and feel the relaxation wash over you.  (Sorry if there's an ad before the video).

Maroon 5, Sunday Morning

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Truth Is Thursday, Pre-Super...huh?

Truth Is: Can’t understand why a company would actually okay a commercial that does nothing but have people screaming.  How can that possibly be effective when it makes viewers say “shut up” and hit mute?  I really question advertising execs sometimes.

Truth Is: Twilight: Breaking Dawn, Part I will be on DVD February 11th.  I’m buying it.  I like the movies, though they’re not Harry Potter.  I’m not sure it’s entirely healthy to watch it around Vomit Day, but, you know, I’m a risk taker.

Truth Is: Pretty sure I have a demonic paper plate holder.  It’s the only one that holds the paper plate hostage.  When it finally releases the plate, the dang thing flips and sends crumbs all over me and the floor.

Truth Is: I’m really not interested in the Super Bowl this year.  No Cowboys, no Saints, no Texans…blah.  I mean, I’m happy for all fans of the Giants and Patriots—it will be a fantastic day for them. 

Can’t explain this disinterested feeling…Cowboys’ fans knew they wouldn’t make an appearance; we barely had a snowball’s chance in hell of making the playoffs. So, I’m not blah because the Cowboys aren’t in it. 

Maybe it would’ve been cool to see a Harbaugh-Harbaugh showdown or see a new team in there, like the Texans.  Maybe that’s what it is that makes this game so blah to me—there’s no real story to it.  I guess the story for this one would be the Giants/Patriots, Part II or Patriots Seek Redemption, something like that. 

Maybe I’ll get into it once the game starts…that’s probably what will happen.  Maybe.

Anyway, good luck to any and all Pats/Giants fans!  Enjoy it y’all!