Month: September 2006

I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby

Yesterday I had a little time to do some shopping, so I headed out to our fancy new shopping center here in town. I’ve already discussed at length the return of 80’s fashions, so I won’t bore y’all by repeating my thoughts on the subject.

Consider it a public service announcement when I tell you that the 80’s fashion is out in full force. I saw leggings, I saw vests, and I am not lying when I say that I saw knickers. I went in Forever 21 to get a good look at what these crazy kids are wearing and it was like a flashback to my closet in junior high and high school.

I got in my car and I promise y’all that Don’t You Forget About Me was on the radio. I was thrown full force into a huge bout of 80’s nostalgia. Added to this recipe for a walk down memory lane is the fact that I currently have braces on my teeth. I am one Junior/Senior prom drama and bad perm away from fully reliving my teen years.

Hearing Simple Minds belting out their 80’s anthem, took me back to the days of crying over my 8th grade crush. His name was Kendall and why, oh why didn’t he like me back? Never mind that he was 15 and a sophomore and I was a mere 13 year old 8th grader. Did he not see how cute I looked in my splatter paint pants with my oversize yellow sweater and matching yellow flats? Did he not appreciate the fact that I could make my hair three times the size of my head? Why couldn’t it work out for us the way it did for Andi and Blaine in Pretty in Pink? Why couldn’t he be waiting outside a church for me leaning against his red porsche like Jake Ryan did for Samantha? Why? WHY? (other than the fact that he drove a ’82 blue Toyota Camry)

Then, fate stepped in and we saw each other at a church lock-in. We held hands during a compelling viewing of Rocky III. I went and bought the soundtrack because it was “our movie”. And then…he moved away. It took like a week and a half of listening to Air Supply and REO Speedwagon before I was able to move on.

I don’t know why I’m telling y’all all this, maybe because the pair of skinny jeans I may or may not have tried on yesterday completely cut off the circulation to my brain.

Y’all have a great weekend!
I use the term "celebrity" loosely here

I haven’t had the chance to finish watching this week’s Project Runway. It is currently taunting me, waiting for me on DVR. I’ll get to it right after Greys’ Anatomy tonight. But until I do, here is a little Project Runway information.

Gulley called me last week to let me know that her sister Sarah had a celebrity sighting a few nights before while eating dinner in New York City.

Before I tell y’all who she saw, let me tell you a little about Sarah. She is Gulley’s younger sister by 8 years and she is our expert on all things fabulous. Sarah graduated from the University of Texas but we don’t hold it against her. After graduation, she moved to New York City and she’s so cool that she can just refer to it as the city. She worked for a big PR firm and met real celebrities like Delta Burke.

Gulley and I went to visit her in 2002 and she showed us all around New York. We went to every restaurant we could think of in hopes of spotting a celebrity. We did see the girl from the movie Simone and right now y’all are saying “who?” My point exactly. She also took us shopping on Canal Street to help us find THE perfect accessories for the upcoming season.

If we have a fashion question, Gulley will get on the horn with Sarah to get the answer. If we need to know anything slightly “hip” or trendy, you can guarantee that Gulley will call Sarah. She is like our very own Carrie Bradshaw, but younger and without any of the promiscuity.

Anyway, back to my original story. Sarah is now married and no longer lives in the city but she lives close enough to visit. She was there the other night having dinner and who did she see at the next table? Angela from Project Runway.

The first thing I wanted to know was what she was wearing and the answer was baggy cargo pants and clunky boots. No big shock there. I wonder if the cargo pants had those little rosettes on the bottom?

Thank you Sarah for keeping us in the big city loop and thanks for always being fabulous.
In a kingdom far, far away

Last night before bed, I sat Caroline down on the potty so hopefully she could have one last tee-tee before she went to sleep. I was kneeling down next to her and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulled me close until our noses were touching and said, “I’m going to tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, beautiful girl named Mama”.

Does it even matter what the rest of the story was? My heart exploded into a millon tiny pieces.
Hold me closer Tony Danza

Gulley called me the other morning and she had been on the phone with our friend Stephanie. Steph had called to see if Gulley had seen Fergie earlier that morning on the Today show. Gulley said that no she hadn’t and wondered to herself if Fergie was promoting a new book about Weight Watchers or being the Duchess of York, when she realized that the Fergie that Steph was talking about was Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas. In her defense it is NOT easy to stay current and trendy when you’re a mama. It takes some work, especially when you spend most of your time in the car listening to Veggie Tales and the like.

Anyway, Steph was calling to talk about Fergie’s song called London Bridge. Her question was what exactly does one mean when they say “my London Bridge is falling down”. Is it dirty or could someone say something like “I can’t wear skinny jeans because my London Bridge is quickly succumbing to gravitational forces beyond my control?” Do any of y’all know the answer?

I downloaded the song on iTunes and after giving careful consideration to the lyrics I can safely say I have no idea what Fergie is talking about so I’m going to refrain from discussing my London Bridge in public and I’d advise y’all to do the same.

All this talk about musical lyrics made me think about songs that I have loved and songs that I have completely misunderstood. When I was in Junior High, my dad would take me to his friend’s music store and I could pick out any cassette tape that I wanted. My musical tastes ranged from Def Leppard’s Pyromania to Mac Davis’ Oh Lord it’s Hard to be Humble to Kenny Rogers’ The Gambler. I wish I were kidding, especially about Mac Davis.

I remember singing Lucille at the top of my lungs. “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, 400 children and a crop in the field” and even in my 9 year old reasoning thinking well no wonder she left, my goodness 400 children. I’d leave too if someone made me have 400 children and harvest crops in the field. Have some decency.

Another misunderstood favorite of mine was Billy Joel singing It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me. Remember the line, “how about a pair of pink sidewinders and a bright orange pair of pants”? Yes, a BRIGHT orange pair of pants makes much more sense than a FRIED orange pair of pants. I won’t embarrass myself by telling you how long I sang it my way. It NEVER even occurred to me to wonder what exactly a fried orange pair of pants would look like.

I also spent many years in college singing along to Garth Brooks’ Friends in Low Places except instead of singing “I’m not big on social graces, think I’ll slip on down to the Oasis…”, I was singing (and not quietly may I add), “I’m not big on sausage gravy, think I’ll slip on down to the Oasis…” I can’t really explain what I thought gravy preferences had to do with going to the Oasis. I wish I could.

So how about y’all? Any song lyrics that took you years to figure out? I am willing to bet it’s not just me and if it is, make something up.
Mamas are way cool and hip…or not

I finally got my September/October issue of Paula’s Home Cooking in the mail today. I’m not sure why Paula wasn’t on her A game and I’m just now receiving it, but I’m just glad it’s here because it is chock full of all kinds of things I’m going to cook in the next few weeks. She even has a recipe for popcorn balls which I’m just thrilled about because some of my favorite Halloween memories include eating the popcorn balls that my Nanny used to make. I guarantee Caroline and I will be making some in the next month.

Something on the cover of Paula’s magazine got me tickled. Here I’ll show you.

Do y’all see on the cover where it says “Bobby’s Hip New Home”? It just cracked me up. Can’t y’all hear her saying, “Bobby has just moved into a new home y’all, and it is SO HIP.” She might even describe it to some of her friends as chic (which I bet she would pronounce chick).

It made me laugh because it falls under things a Mama might say in all innocence while completely mortifying her child. I still laugh about a friend of mine who was moving into her dorm and her mom said something was AWESOME. She immediately snapped “Mom you do NOT say awesome.”

My mama has kept a note for years that my younger sister wrote when she was in junior high and Mom was supposed to pick her up from the movies. It said, and I quote “Mom, pick us up at 9:00. DON’T SAY ANYTHING. You can ask how the movie was but DON’T SAY ANYTHING else.” Looking back I can’t believe my mom didn’t tell her to call a cab. I’m not blaming my sister because I am fully aware that I was just as bad, if not worse. I just didn’t leave a paper trail of evidence to prove it.

I realize that my day is coming and in fact may already be here. Caroline is quick to tell me “Mama, you stop singing” or “Mama, don’t dance like that”. Apparently I can already be a huge embarrassment to the three year old set. It kind of makes me cringe when I think how bad it will be 10 years from now when we’re both at the height of crucial hormonal shifts.

I guess it’s too much to hope that she’ll always think I’m hip and chic.
The prima ballerina

Caroline had dance class yesterday and even though she’s been going to dance since July, I crack up every time she has on her leotard and tights. Her boodelay (thanks for that word, Toni) isn’t any bigger than it was the day she was born. She’s just a long, lean dancing machine, except for her little pot belly which is quickly becoming the last remnant of babyhood.

Mimi and Bops had been out of town all weekend, so they came to watch her dance class. Bops said that he told his secretary he was leaving work early because Caroline had “a little dance thing” and his secretary told him to be sure and take pictures. He had to confess that really he was just going to watch her dance class. The girl has had an entourage since the day she was born.

Caroline was thrilled to see them because after all it had been three whole days. In fact, on Saturday she got into trouble at naptime and she was quick to tell me, “I just want my Mimi and Bops.” They are big on the love at Mimi and Bops’ house, not so much on the discipline. But, hey that’s what grandparents are for and we should all be so lucky to have someone in our lives who thinks we’re adorable no matter what we do.

The thing I enjoy most about watching her dance in class is that she tends to get carried away watching herself in the mirror and quits paying attention to the teacher. She twirls, she grins, and she twists around so that she can admire her backside. She is a complete ham and I have no idea where on earth she gets it.