Hey y’all, I have a favor to ask.  I’m not demanding, I don’t ask for much, but I could use a little help.  Someone just said “yeah, you could use a lot of help” and I heard that.  Anyway, I’ve been playing around with Typepad and I kinda like it, so go check out the Typepad version of the Kerry blog and tell me whatcha think in the comments.  Ok?  Thanks.

I’d seen this photo of Madonna aka Esther

(pay attention, Beyonce or Sasha Fierce or Rainbow Sno-cone, whatever you’re calling yourself) and it reminded me of something else.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, then it came to me. 

Madge, step away from the barbells.  You’re starting to scare children and the elderly.  Really, all you’re missing is the baby oil and you’re ready for Miss Greasy Muscle Chick World.  And that facial expression is doing nothing for you.  That’s the look the drive-thru bank teller gives me when I have more than 3 transactions and you’re supposed to go inside if you have that many, but she says, “Mrs. Faler, next time you really need to come inside if you have this many transactions.” And then she purses her lips and squints her eyes at me with that disapproving look, like “I know I’ve told you this before, lady, and next time I’m gonna cut you.”  Maybe it’s just me.

It’s time to put the weights down and have a cookie.  Cookies make people happy and make you forget you look like part of the touring cast of Interview with the Vampire: the Musical.  I’m just saying.

IMPORTANT HEALTH ISSUE FOR WOMEN

Do you have feelings of inadequacy?

Do you suffer from shyness?

Do you sometimes wish you were more assertive?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, ask your doctor or pharmacist about Margaritas.

Margaritas are the safe, natural way to feel better and more confident about yourself and your actions.  Margaritas can
help ease you out of your shyness and let you tell the world that you’re ready and willing to do just about anything.
You will notice the benefits of Margaritas almost immediately and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.
Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Margaritas.

Margaritas may not be right for everyone.  Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Margaritas.

However, women who wouldn’t mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may
include:
- Dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration
- Erotic lustfulness
- Loss of motor control
- Loss of clothing
- Loss of money
- Loss of virginity
- Attraction to the same sex
- Table dancing
- Headache
- Dehydration
- Dry mouth
- And a desire to sing Karaoke

WARNING: The consumption of Margaritas may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

WARNING: The consumption of Margaritas may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love        them.

WARNING: The consumption of Margaritas may cause you to think you can sing.

WARNING: The consumption of Margaritas may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

Melissa sent the above and it was too good not to share.  I’m sorry I don’t have the writer’s name to attribute it to, but thank you, mystery writer.  And just in case you’re wondering — no, I’ve never had any of those experiences, as I have been intoxicated twice in my life.  I have my one margarita a year on the holiest of holidays, Cinco de Mayo. However, I was tipsy once at a Cuco’s in Monroe and could not get out of the bathroom stall because I couldn’t work the sliding lock.  I think I was in there for 20 minutes wondering who locked me in.  Nice, huh?  I do not need the influence of alcohol to do stupid things, I’m superfantastic at doing stupid things while remaining sober.  It’s a talent of mine.

And I know for a fact that the consumption of maragritas will make you think you can sing due to a certain BFF of mine who belted out “I can’t make you love me if you don’t” in a packed Mexican restaurant in Ruston.  After that she proceeded to knock down a display in a grocery store.  So awesome.  I will keep that BFF’s name in my confidential mental Rolodex in case her clients, friends, or family members do not know that story.  Ah, youth. I have many more stories I could tell, but alas, I’m going to go chat on Facebook.

I heart scrapblog.com.  I use it to make a new desktop for my laptop every month.  It’s fun.  Here’s my rockstar, Andrew wrapping a mix tape around the sofa.  I think he has a career in music.  Or demolition.

I’m back from the trip and taking today to relax a little and just hang out around the house.  Back to reality and Andrew climbing in our bed at night.  I thought y’all might enjoy a trip wrap-up.

We left Thursday at noon for Birmingham and thanks to Melissa’s lady (GPS) we didn’t get lost.  It helps if you program it before you leave, which was not the case on a previous trip (we can learn).  The drive was about 5 hours, which was about 4 hours too long for me, but I passed the time playing on Facebook, so it was ok.  I hadn’t slept the night before and I can’t sleep in cars, so I was super tired by the time we got to Birmingham.  We checked into the hotel and headed to the Galleria, even though my bed looked really nice and comfy.  We ate at a place called Stix, a Japanese habachi place and it was yummy.  They brought out salads with a weird dressing I didn’t like, so I didn’t eat it — then one of the strangest things happened.  The server asked if I was finished, I said yes, then she offered the salad to Beth.  How freakin’ weird is that?  Little Japanese lady giving Beth seconds.  She took my salad, turned to Beth and asked if she wanted it, like it was just out of the kitchen.  What if I had sneezed on it or something?  It was weird, but not as weird as that time the ketchup bottle exploded all over me in Georgia.  Here’s a pic of Beth finishing my salad:

I’m glad she liked it.  Look how watery the dressing is.  Yuck.  That’s Melissa on Beth’s left.  Melissa is the bomb — she also won the “decorate your lunch box” contest at the crop.  Anna Bess won the layout contest, and I won bingo, we had the luckiest table ever.  Well, Melissa and Anna Bess had talent, I just had luck.

So, after dinner we went to the Galleria.  Macy’s was open late — I’m guessing because they knew we were coming.  AB bought pajamas and insisted they were lounge wear.  Looked like pjs to me.  I perused the plus-sized section of Macy’s looking for yoga pants, but all of them were too long, but I did find Apple Bottom jeans.  If you don’t know about Apple Bottoms, here’s your education:Yes, those are apples on her butt.  Most of the jeans have apples on the ass, in various colors, styles, etc.  I was strangely drawn to them, but I couldn’t bring myslef to buy them.  The irony was killing me.  I think I stood there looking at them in disbelief for 10 minutes, just thinking “why?”  What’s next?  Banana Front jeans for men?  Oh, hell, no.

I made my way into the mall and it was fab.  Went to Lane Bryant, no yoga pants.  Megan called me and we met at the Children’s Place, then I headed out to find pants when I encountered the carnies of the mall, the kiosk people.  There’s nothing that makes me want to punch somebody in the throat more than someone coming after me with a flat iron and going “hey pretty lady—”  If I would have had a taser, I’m telling you, I would have used it.  It got even better when Anna Bess joined me and the kiosk people went after both of us.  All of us ended up back at Macy’s and I got a new pair of brown suede Merrell mary janes  and a pair of earrings.  I used restraint and didn’t buy a purse.   Then of course, we found the Apple vending machine, which I still think is the coolest.

Let’s see.  Friday we went to the crop, it was fun.  I posted stuff from the crop.  That night we went to a Mexican restaurant and had the best service any of us had ever had.  I’m not exaggerating.  For realz.  I never ran out of tea and I lost count after I had my 6th glass of iced tea.  I was some thirsty ’cause I forget to drink when I’m scrapbooking.  If I were a dork, I’d say that’s ’cause I’m in the zone.  Anyway, we had a good time and called the manager over to tell him how good the service was.  He was a cutie.  He asked where we were from, we said Louisiana and he asked “Shreveport?”  Now, that’s my home town, but when you think of Louisiana, is Shreveport the first city that comes to mind?  No.  That was funny.  If I met someone and said “where ya from?” and they said Texas, I wouldn’t say “oh, Beaumont?”  Where ya from?  Tennessee.  Oh, Pigeon Forge?

Saturday was a better day at the crop, had a good time.  That evening was the silent auction and Melissa got into a bidding war with some hussies for a Christmas door hangie-thing.  You don’t want to get into a bidding war with her.  She will win.  There were samples of projects made by the Scrap Etc design team and I wanted to buy one of them and I was told it wasn’t for sale.  Excuse me?  Oh, everything has a price.  There was no talking to this woman.  She wouldn’t sell me the thing.  If there’s anything I hate, it’s a “no.”  I can’t stand being told I can’t do something.  Or buy something.  It’s not like it was the Hope diamond, for crying out loud.

Yesterday we drove home.  The trip home was full of fun.  I’m not sure which part I liked most.  It’s a toss up between when we stopped for drinks at a fast food place called Ward’s that not only offered nachos with the orange cheese, but also had pork chops on the menu as well as wireless internet.  Or it could be having to use the men’s restroom at the Picayune, MS Taco Bell.  There was a sign on the women’s door that read “CLOSED sorry for the inconvenience.”  No, I don’t think they know how inconvenient it was to have to use the men’s room.  Believe me when I tell you I touched nothing in that place with my skin.  I can’t think of a word gross enough to describe it.  Okay, well, none I feel comfortable writing, you get the picture.  I really don’t know how men use the men’s restroom.  I’m getting the heebie jeevies thiking about it, so moving on.

The fam was happy to see me and neither the kids nor Scott have asked to see any of the work I’ve done, so the next time I take a scrapbooking trip, I may really go to a spa or a shopping trip or a rendevous with a certain someone who’s a silver fox on CNN.  Or Patrick Dempsey, he’s a hottie from back in the day.  Totally my type.  Tall, dark, and dyslexic.

]]> http://kerryfaler.wordpress.com/2008/11/10/trip-wrap-up/feed/ 3 kerryfaler Beth made a happy bowl apple bottoms