Hit

My pinata was a HIT!

Get it?  Hit? 

I seriously slay me.  I can't get enough!

That thing held up like a CHAMP!  It withstood the buffetings of voilent children of all ages.

My bro-in-law, Bill, climbed up on the roof of my house.  He was Pinata Puppeteer.  I died laughing everytime he acutally swung to enormous Ice Cream Cone and hit the blind folded child in question.

There is something wickedly delicious about watching a another human being look ridiculous.  I don't care if that human is 3 or 103.  It's dang funny.

 




















Birthday parties are the spice of life!

While they are expensive, inconvenient and indicate impending liver spots, I LOVE to throw a solid B-Day party.  I love inviting too many people and offering too much food.  I love singing happy birthday and wondering what the birthday girl's silent wish might be.  I love watching the opening of gifts.  I love eating leftover birthday cake with my fingers whilst my family sleeps.

I especially love the gifts though.  Gifts is my major love language (...that and Words of Affirmation, but we'll discuss that at another juncture in time...).  When someone gives me a thoughtful gift I positively GLOW.  It means they thought about ME and actually DID something about it.  I get all happy and gooey inside. 

I was SUPER excited to see what gifts Maya got today!  New toys make the world go 'round!

Someone gave her the new Tangled Barbie Doll.  I lit up like a roman candle!

"Welcome to the family Tangled Rapunzel Barbie !" I shouted with fervor.  "I saw your movie in the theatre.  I just want you to know I am SUCH a huge FAN!  I just need to apologize in advance for the fact you will be thrown in the playroom with all the other No Name Barbies... They're not used to celebrities, like you..."

Maya also recieved a Build-a-Bear kit.

I was beside myself!

"Maya!  WHAT A COOL GIFT!!! YOU GET TO BUILD YOUR OWN BEAR!!! I LOVE THOSE!!!"

I really do love those...

I exclaimed over every gift to the point of exhaustion.  I become emotionally spent when I get too excited. 

I know a party was good when I completely crash immediatly after the departure of the last guest.   I partied HARD, yo!  I was TOTALLY WASTED on hard candy.  I'm gonna have a SERIOUS hangover en la manana.  (I'm a major light weight.)

I was POSITIVELY DRUNK on the glee of my baby girl.    

Like I said, Maya's party was a hit!

I'm out, ya'll!

Cognitive Dissonance

What do you do when you face cognitive dissonance?  Hmmm? 

What do you do with two differing mind sets? When you want something you can't have?  Or when you know you SHOULD feel a certain way but instead feel the opposite?

My guilty conscience always forces me to do the right thing whether I like it or not.  I feel like Tell The Truth Barbie. She's new on the market.

The commercials are like, "Hi!  I'm Barbie!  I'm plastic and have no brain and huge boobs and I TELL THE TRUTH."

Then Ken comes in and he's like, "Hey Barbie!  You look smashing today!  Would you like to join me for a ride in my groovy pink corvette?" 

And Tell the Truth Barbie is like, "Actually Ken,  I've been meaning to inform you for a long time now that you're a girly man.  You just don't do it for me.  I've been seeing G.I. Joe behind your back for quite some time now.  Sorry."

Story time:

I had two small babies in a double stroller.  I was 24 years old and broke.  I wanted a dress I couldn't afford, so I STOLE IT. 

I wanted to wear the dress to church.

Yup.  That's right.  I rolled it up and stuck it in my cheap Winnie the Pooh baby bag and sauntered out of Dillard's calmly pushing my stroller.

I took the dress home. 

When I got there I was like, "I've gotta think of a good lie to tell the hubby about the dress...".

He walked through the door and I was all ready to lie.  Instead I burst into tears. 

"Waaahhh! I stole this dress!  I stole it from Dillard's 'cause I wanted it and can't afford it.  I stuck it in the baby bag... I wanna keep it but now I feel all bad and sick."

And I did.  I felt all bad and physically ill.  Cognitive dissonance reared it's ugly head.

I sat down on the couch.  "Shit," I said.

I knew what I had to do.

I drove back to Dillard's and walked right to the security guard and said, "I stole a dress and I need to return it."

He looked at me like I rode in on the short bus.

I could have just put the dress back on the rack and been done.  But nooooooo, I had to be dramatic and crazy. 

He took the dress and said, "Nobody has ever done this before... Ummm... Don't do it again....?". He clearly had not been trained to handle repentant thieves.

The End.

I've done crap like this throughout my life.  Have you?  Am I confused and devilish all alone here?

I want to be bad.  I really, really do!  It's sexy and cool to be bad!  Right?  I want to be a naughty little vixen.  I want to walk the line between Danger and Safety and emerge unscathed.  I want to do bad things and lie lie lie.  I want to pocket expensive jewelry without batting an eye and then wear it with pride.

But I can't.  It sucks.

I have been cursed with a strong moral values.  I can only be bad for a minute or two and then, no matter how much I'm enjoying the Sin of the Hour I must repent of my evil ways.  I must tell the truth.  And worse yet I must eradicate the sin from my heart and live with integrity.

Integrity is all-encompassing so I there is NO WAY I can go back to my original sin without vomiting on my shoes or passing out or bursting into tears.  Pft!  Lame!

And it's getting WORSE by the day!  I can't tell a lie to save my life anymore.  I get all stupid and shifty eyed and sweaty.  It's downright embarrassing.

People have applauded my honesty on this blog.  I think it's a major character flaw.