Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Me in (not) my underwear!

You've probably seen the commericals featuring actress Sarah Chalke promoting Hanes Wedgie free panties. What a dream that would be eh?

Well, every Wednesday - Hanes is offering free panties if you sign up on their website. What girl can't use free undies? So I signed up last Wednesday and they came in the mail this morning.

Uh oh.
See, it's like this - when you sign up you can pick your size, but you don't get to pick the style - which I see as a flaw in their otherwise genius promotion.

Here is what I got.

Briefs. BRIEFS people! Not even 'low rise' briefs. Actual granny panty briefs! Not to mention Pink! Ugh!

I pulled them out of the package and held them up, estimating they would come all the way up to my chest.

Not quite.

Here they are under a casual skirt. Well, not so much under if you want to be accurate!

I guess I'll take them over to Goodwill (in the box of course! Don't worry, I tried them on with my own undies as a barrier). Maybe there is a sweet little 80 year old who will think they're perfect for her.

I mean no ill will to Hanes. Anyone who has a mission of wedgie prevention is clearly doing the Lord's work. And offering free panties is generous.

In fact, I bought a package of their bikini style wedgie-free undies a few weeks ago and they are quite fabulous.
I can't say entirely wedgie free - but that's my own fault.

Of course we all know the only way to keep undies from riding up your butt cheeks is to have rock solid buns.
I remember those days. I thought I'd found all the world's greatest panties... turns out it was my @ss! Can you get it back after 35 and beyond?
Hey, if anyone else got their free sample... let me know if they sent any other styles out! I'm curious if they are only sending briefs or they are doing random styles and random colors.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

But I Want to Save the World!!!

Recently I have learned that Scooters (you know, Vespa - Honda - etc.) get 100 miles per gallon. PER GALLON! 100 Miles!

Makes me sick to my stomach that my fully paid off, fully insured, trusty tank of a Chevy gets around 20 - 23 miles per gallon. Ugh. (Please don't tell my car that I called her a tank. Seriously. She'll be peeved. You know you're beautiful darling! I NEVER said any such thing!!)

Now that gas has topped $4 a gallon, I reclaimed my bike from my boyfriend's storage unit, determined to make my short trips on the Schwinn.

I've started looking at panniers for my mountain bike.

It might look a little silly. Maybe I need a cruiser - for a back up bike - instead. But I'd really rather have a Scooter. All the short trips I make -- running around between 5 and 10 miles of my home - in the city- on streets that don't exceed 35 mph - it's all really better suited to a scooter than a car.

But I don't have a job right now so it'd be silly to spend $3,000 - $5,500 on a shiny new scooter.

But I hate knowing that I could be using so much less gas. Not for the price of gas but for the environment.

So when I talked to my dad today, I told him about my little dream. I thought since he tools around the farm on a four wheeler that he would be supportive of my desire to protect the environment.

Instead, he laughed out loud. Seriously. Then he proceeded to tell me that I'd get killed on a scooter. Too dangerous.

But Dad, your 10 year old grandson drives the four wheeler all over tarnation!

It has 4 wheels. It's safer. And it's not in traffic.

But Dad, gas is $4.00 a gallon, and scooters make 100 miles per gallon!

It won't save you that much money.

But Dad, that's like 5Xs better than my car! And it's not about the money it's about saving the planet! When I start driving a scooter for the majority of my trips, they won't even have to consider drilling for more oil in the United States.

He laughed even harder. Then he went on to share that my brother's semi truck gets 5 miles per gallon!

OMG! I exclaim. Then I have to have a scooter just to make up for the damage my brother is doing to the world!

Driving a scooter won't offset all the gas that the trucking industry uses.

But Dad, if everyone who lived in the city switched to scooters for small trips - it could! Almost every car on the streets in the city only has one person in it. What a waste! They should all be driving scooters... then the roads would be safer too. It would be all scooters.

Now he's laughing almost hysterically.

So I whimper a little and say, "So you're not going to help me buy one?"

Hell no! More laughter. And if you buy one, I'm going to come out to Denver and take it away from you.

This is where I have to remind everyone that I am 38 years old!!!!

But Dad, I never ask for anything. I can't believe you won't help me save the world.

Disclaimer: Anyone who knows me at all, knows that I would never ask my parents to buy me anything - much less something in that price range! The last thing I asked my parents to fund that entered 1000s of $$$$ was my room and board in college. Yeah, just the room and board.

The conversation documented here did happen - and most of the whiney dialogue was in jest. But I have to admit that I sort of hoped, dad would find the investment sound if not a little quirky and offer to kick in a little bit or at least start shopping classified ads for me!

Anyway, I figure at least now Dad has a good story to tell his friends.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

I Think I Just Blew It!

When I met Mr. Burns he wore those washed out, light colored jeans from the 90s. Despite the fact that it was already 2007. When he came to pick me up for dates, I admit I cringed at the jeans.

I remember asking one of the relatively stylish, married guys that I worked with, "At what point can I tell him to buy dark denim jeans?" Paul told me it had to be subtle. Something like pointing out a friend of his or at the store and saying, "Those dark jeans would look really good on you."
Then when he tries them, load on the positive reinforcement.

So that's what I did.

Before long, he went shopping on his own and came back with one light pair, one dark pair. He is an engineer after all, so if there was going to be a change it was going to be gradual.

I oohed and ahhed every time he wore the dark jeans. Now, he wears light jeans when he's working in the field - where he's bound to get dirty. And the MANY pair of dark denim jeans he's accumulated are worn ALL the rest of the time.

Tonight we met a group of his friends for dinner. The couple who got married in April is moving and this was their send off.
I rarely drink, so when I ordered a beer - Mr. Burns was SHOCKED! I followed with a Mojito. As a result I was fairly tipsy.

The newly married couple was joking about how she seems to be in charge now that they're married. Women all around the table were encouraging this, saying that's the way it should be. One woman said, "Is she smart?" Hubby said, "Hell yeah, she's smart." "THEN DO WHAT SHE SAYS!" came the reply.

On the ride home, I pointed to Mr. Burns jeans and mentioned how much I like them.
Yeah, he likes them too.

I said something like, "Good thing for my influence."
Mr. Burns bristled. "What are you talking about? I bought these myself."
No you didn't. Yes I did. No you didn't. Yes I did.

Oh yeah. He did.
I should have dropped it there - but I said, "Yeah you did, after I influenced you."
"No you didn't."
"Sure." I said. "It had nothing to do with me. You picked them out all on your own."
"That's right."
"It had nothing at all to do with me suggesting it and then telling you how good they look every time you wear them. Yep, I never asked Paul how to get you to buy dark denim jeans."

The light bulb flicked on in his head and I saw on his face he was irritated. Irritated because a minor manipulation had just been revealed. I could almost see the words working through the gears in his head. "I've been bamboozeled! Damn. I thought I would never let a woman get the best of me."
He did not say this - but I saw it on his face.

Then a similar palor drew over my face, as I realized I should never have revealed that I have the keys to manipulate him, even if in a small and harmless way. Oh Damn!

Then I blurted out, "Oh. I shouldn't have told you that. Damn Mojito!"
At that, Mr. Burns laughed. "Truth serum! It finally got you!"

Then he said he's going to wear light jeans from now on just to bug me.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Hot Hot Hot

I don't spend much time mooning over celebrities.

When forced to name a male celebrity that might be capable of making me swoon, I can't come up with the typical Brad Pitt or other standbys.

I pick John Cusack. Kyle Chandler. And Sting.

This drives Mr. Burns batty.

The other night Sting came up in conversation and Mr. Burns... fully bewildered asked, "What is it with women and Sting?"

I don't know. He's just hot.


He just oozes sex appeal. It can't be explained.

"I don't get it." says Mr. Burns.

Well then, I say... What is it with men and Shania Twain?

He looks at me.

"I know. " I say. "Shania Twain is smoking hot."
photos from Google Images

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Sharing Beautiful Stories

Today was the baby shower for my friend Kristin who is expecting a baby in August.

The hosts of the shower asked everyone to sign and inscribe their favorite children's book and include it with their gift - rather than to include a card.

On one hand, I don't much care for gift giving instructions on invitations - but on the other hand, I had to admit it's a great idea! I'd much rather buy a book than a useless card. Some children's books are more affordable than greeting cards anyway. Most are only twice the cost!

And honestly, which would you cherish more? 20 baby shower cards or 20 incredible books - inscribed with personal messages from people who love you - that you can reflect upon every time you choose a tome to while away the hours with your child throughout the next 20 years?
Easy choice isn't it?

I was eager to share a book that I discovered in my 20s.

Simple title: You Are Special by Max Lucado

I first read it in a Christian bookstore on my lunch break. When I finished, I set the book down in tears!
It's a great message for kids - and it's also great to give to a friend who may be struggling with the way the world is treating her!

The story is about a land of wooden people called Wemmicks who live in a village where they spend each day sticking gold stars and gray dots on one another. Wemmicks get gold stars for doing things well, displaying fine talents, or looking good. They get gray dots if they do something poorly, say something silly or if their wood is scratched or paint is chipped.

One little Wemmick, Punchinello, can't seem to do anything right. He's covered in gray dots and feels badly about himself. One day he meets a Wemmick girl who has no stickers at all! When he asks her how she does it, she sends Punchinello to see the wood carver Eli.

You guessed it. Eli is Punchinello's creator. Eli explains that the stickers only stick if they matter to you. They don't matter to Eli. Eli thinks Punchinello is special no matter what everyone else thinks. Filled with this love and knowledge, Punchinello's gray dots start to fall right off!

A beautiful story about God's love.

When Kristin revealed the title, other moms all oohed and warned, "Have a tissue ready when you read that one!"

Another guest gave her a book I'd forgotten about.

The Tale of Three Trees
This is an amazing story! It's based on a beautiful Christian folklore story of three trees on a hill who had big dreams for themselves.

The first tree aspires to be a treasure chest, inlaid with gold and beautiful jewels and holding the great treasures of a king. The second dreams of becoming a mighty sailing ship carrying important people on adventures throughout the world. The third tree just wants to stand on the hill, grow as tall and beautiful as possible and point to God.

Well, the first tree becomes a feed trough. The second becomes a small fishing boat. And the third is cut down for lumber.

Imagine their disappointment. But can you imagine their true destinies?

Another beautiful tear-jerking story!

One mom said her kid's school performed a play of the Tale of Three Trees, and the teacher asked her to be the narrator. Poor woman had to practice reading it to her dog until she could deliver the story without crying!!

If you are looking for good gifts... these books come highly recommended.

photos from

Thursday, July 10, 2008

No. It Isn't Fun

My best friend got married in 2002. Oh did she look beautiful! I never saw anyone smile so broadly as she did when she came down the aisle. It was a glorious day.

In the years since then, prior to my meeting Mr. Burns… she would get so excited every time I had a date. If I actually liked the guy enough for a second date or more she would wistfully say, “Oh, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”

This annoyed me to no end. Dating is NOT fun.
It’s tedious.
It’s a chore.
It’s worse than a job interview except it’s supposed to be fun.
It’s a job.
It sucks.
I hate dating.

You obviously don’t remember what dating was like if you recall it as fun.
Setting yourself up for dinner and disappointment every week or two is no joy. When you are in your 30s, you rarely expect a date to go well. It’s just an exercise. Cleaning the bathtub is more rewarding than another first date.

Then I met Mr. Burns, and I finally experienced the wonder and thrill of waiting anxiously to see him again. Expecting his phone call – then hearing his voice on the other end of the line. Learning what he enjoyed. Hearing about his childhood and growing up stories. Recognizing the sound of his car alarm being armed when he parked on my street and I knew he was about to buzz my apartment. So exciting!

When I shared these little thrills with Best Friend she said, “See, I miss dating. Dating was so much fun.”

Oh. This is what you were talking about!
All this time I thought you were talking about the tedium of dating and it just ticked me off when you said that!

Yeah. Dating someone with potential is fun.

Searching through all of those men, looking for potential – sucks. Wasting an evening with a guy – who it turns out – is going to expect you to sleep with him on your next date – even though the connection between you, if any, is weak – lousy.

Over the past year and a half, I have counted how lucky I am not being out there. Mr. Burns and I would turn to each other and say. “I hate dating. I’m so glad I don’t have to do that.” Of course I was thinking “…anymore.”

I had hoped to God that I wouldn’t have to date anymore. Ever.

I know I have mentioned a couple times that I think our relationship is nearly over. I haven’t been able to actually break up just yet.
Part of it is dread that I’ll have to eventually start ‘dating’ again. Ugh.
Part of it is… as I share concerns with him – he is really trying. He’s making a real effort.

But if I don’t see that excitement of ‘having me’ of knowing that I am in his life for good and he’s thrilled by the thought of it – I have to get out. I just don’t think either of us should have to try that hard.

I just can’t bear dating again. The thought of it is worse than any pain or agony of breaking up with this wonderful man in my life

Friday, July 04, 2008

The Buddy System

I had decided when I was 12 that I didn't want to get married before I was at least 27.

My teen years were during the Big 80s. Women had careers. Movies like Baby Boom (Diane Keaton) reinforced the career now - babies later philosophy.

That was my plan. Start the career. Know myself as an adult. Then get married and have kids.

So when I turned 27, I was stunned that the man wasn't already in the scene. I was supposed to date him for a while then get married and have my first kid by age 30.

So when I turned 30 I was really surprised there was no man at the ready.

By 35 I really started to worry. I remember telling my older cousin (old enough to be my parent) that I was worried I might not get married in time to have kids. She scoffed and said, "Well, unless you want to have a kid without a husband there's no sense wasting energy worrying about it."

Okay. So I came to terms with the thought of never having children.

That lasted about a year. Then one day the thought hit me. If I never have kids, I'll never have grandkids... and that's not OKAY! I don't want to become an old woman who has no one to come visit her in the nursing home.

More panic.

Over the years, I sort of settled into the idea that I'll just be alone. Even though I continued to pray and pray for God to make one man (any man - whoever He had in store) ready to become my husband.


Then I prayed from a different place in my heart. Asking God if he didn't have a husband for me - could I at least have a boyfriend?

I realized that I was still asking for something pretty special. This boyfriend would have to be a good man of faith. Someone who realized that sex is for marriage. Someone who could be ideal for a husband - even if a husband wasn't in God's plan for me.

Careful what you pray for.

The hardest part is... I had accepted that I may never get married. Never have kids.

Then I met Mr. Burns and my thinking changed. My thoughts turned to the possibility - maybe just maybe - marriage and family would be for me.

Maybe I was worthy enough to be rewarded with a family of my own.

All the while I remembered the deal I made with God. If there is no husband, a boyfriend. Please.

But then, with Mr. Burns as my boyfriend, I could picture my possible family album. A wedding. A marriage. Months of trying to concieve. Becoming a 40 year old pregnant woman! Good thing I'm still mistaken for a 29 year old! I can picture having a family. Me. A mom!

But now Mr. Burns is proving to be the boyfriend I prayed for. Not the husband. I have to be ready to let go.

Now I have to accept all over again that God wants me to be alone.
Just me and God. A pretty good team. No question.

But for a while there I really, really believed that I might just get it all.
Or at least part of what God seems so eager to hand everyone else.
What plan can He possibly have for me that requires me to be alone?

Let's not even mention the career situation. I can just barely support myself... there's no way I can adopt on my own or even be a foster parent. And I really can't see myself trying to raise a kid without the support of a loving husband.

What on Earth is His plan?!!!

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

In Case of Fire

Please don't be offended if it seems like I'm talking down to you...

But do you know what to do when you hear sirens? We're all grown up drivers now - but it seems many people don't know what to do when a fire truck or ambulance is on it's way to a call.

It's easy to remember - Go Right For Sirens and Lights!

I'm bringing this up because of recent reports that Denver emergency vehicles are consistently losing 4 Minutes en route to their calls because drivers are not clearing a path.
4 minutes is life-changing! What if you were the one waiting for help?

Let's go over this again.... go right for sirens and lights.
Get in the right lane. Clear the center lane for the emergency vehicle to pass.

I live just four blocks from a fire station - and at least once a week I see an emergency vehicle trying to get through and no one is getting over!

If you are the first at a stop light... and hear sirens... unable to identify where they are coming from just yet..... stay stopped when the light turns green!!! Wait to see where the emergency vehicle needs to go so you can help to keep the path clear. If you are the first car in the left, center most lane... pull ahead past the intersection, get into the right lane and STOP! Be an example!

I figure just posting this here might be enough to get people to mention it to their friends and family and get the phrase fresh in every one's heads, no matter where you live. The life you save could be your own.

While I'm on my soapbox - does Stop - Drop and Roll ring a bell?

I've seen two videos in the last month in which some one's clothes caught fire and they ran around like maniacs.... people swatting at them but no one remembering to smother the flames.

Exhibit A if you will.... (it's a Quincenara, not a wedding ... but that doesn't matter)

A rerun of Oprah today featured a woman who was set afire by her abusive husband and while the abuse itself is horrific - one can't help but think that some of the terrible pain and recovery could have been avoided if someone around her had remembered Stop. Drop. Roll.

I don't mean to make light of any one's suffering. I want so badly to ensure that more suffering might be avoided.
Get these messages in your head. In your loved one's heads. Teach your kids, your nieces and nephews.
Is this no longer being taught? And if not, why?

She steps off soapbox.