Month: August 2011

I dedicated yesterday to staying home to take care of a few things around the house, like the pile of laundry that growled at me on Monday and attempting to clean six months worth of goldfish and Cheerios out of the bottom of our couch cushions. And by goldfish I mean the delicious Pepperidge Farm cheese-flavored fish, not any sort of live fish. Because, please, I do have some standards of cleanliness.

But a girl can only do so many of these menial tasks before she needs to take a break, get out of the house and breathe in the refreshing 110 degree air outside. (You might be thinking SURELY SHE CAN TALK ABOUT SOMETHING BESIDES THE HEAT. To which I say NO I CAN’T. IT’S TOO HOT. AND QUIT CALLING ME SHIRLEY.)

So I gathered up a pile of clothes I’d been meaning to take in to my alterations lady since sometime in June, but I kept forgetting about it until I wanted to wear one of the items and then I’d remember and, ultimately, forget again five minutes later. This is how I operate. Plus the alterations lady is located in a fairly shady area of town and I always feel like I might be taking my life in my hands to get a pair of pants beautifully hemmed for $10.

But I felt like playing it fast and loose yesterday and I headed that way. Only to discover that she has relocated to a new place only five minutes from my house. I made my way to the new store and brought in my things for her to evaluate.

While she was looking things over, I mentioned that I really liked her new location. She said she was very happy and I told her I bet she felt a lot safer because the old place was kind of scary. And then she replied, “Yes, a customer asked me why I moved and I told her even Stevie Wonder could see why I needed to leave that old place.” I found it refreshing to discover we still live in a world where seamstresses don’t feel the need to be politically correct.

I still had about thirty minutes to kill before it was time to pick Caroline up from school and I didn’t want to go home, park the car in the driveway and let it get hot again. A person can only take so many third degree burns on the backs of her thighs in one twenty-four hour period. So I decided to run in Charming Charlie’s because I am in the market for some new inexpensive accessories and also desperately needed a new pair of sunglasses.

And this is where I am going to make a confession that has haunted me for years.

I am sunglass-choosing impaired.

It’s true. I don’t know how to select a good pair of sunglasses. This generally leads me to just pick the largest pair I can find with some sort of faux tortoiseshell frames. Which explains why several years ago Gulley’s son, Jackson, asked, “Mel? Can I try on your new goggles?”

That led me to attempt to rock some aviators like I used to wear in high school back when I still thought Top Gun was the best movie ever made and I took Tom Cruise seriously. But, as I reminded Gulley yesterday, my choice of aviators took a big hit when I went to lunch about four years ago with my outspoken former co-worker, Dee.

Dee and I were eating lunch and I had my jaunty aviators pushed back on top of my head. After lunch was over, she looked at me and asked, “Are those aviators? I’ve been thinking about getting a pair. Let me see how they look on you since we have a similar face shape.”

I put them on. Dee looked at me and shook her head violently no as she said, “OH NO! Those look TERRIBLE.”

Gulley told me it’s been at least four years since that incident and it might be time for me to let it go. She suggested that perhaps I’m holding on to some lingering sunglass insecurity and I need to reject it. Start fresh.

And she’s right. It’s time to move on from the sunglasses hurts of the past.

For the last year and a half I’ve worn a cheap pair with hideous faux crystals on the side that Caroline fell in love with when she saw them at Steinmart. I bought them out of desperation and never planned to wear them this long. It’s embarrassing really. But I haven’t bought new ones because I can’t ever find a pair that don’t end up making me feel like I might look like this.

“Hey! Would you eat the moon if it were made of ribs?”

In the end I did buy a new pair at Charming Charlie’s. I’m not really crazy about them, but they don’t have faux crystals on the side and that’s good enough for me for right now. I also consoled myself with the fact they were $9.97.

So basically all of this to simply ask if any of y’all have thoughts on sunglasses? Do you buy expensive glasses or, like me, do you top out in the $19.99 range? And that’s on a day I’m feeling reckless.

What style do you wear? Where do you buy your sunglasses?

Harry Caray and I would like to know.

Well yesterday was quite a day. Mainly because it was a Monday. And I had to go the grocery store because, while we had plenty of snack-type foods, we were sorely lacking in actual things that make up a real meal. Like Honey Nut Cheerios and pretzel sticks and vegetables.

So today is just going to be a quick list of things that I want to share with the group. You may think I am totally worthless for posting some kind of list when it’s only a Tuesday and that I should be more creative. And to that I say YOU ARE TOTALLY RIGHT.

But it was 112 degrees here yesterday so don’t hassle me. I’m local.

1. Speaking of the heat, I got in my car to pick up Caroline from school and the digital thermometer read 127 degrees. And then it exploded.

Not really. But that would have been an awesome story.

2. About a month or so ago, Angie Smith wrote a beautiful post called Honeysuckle and Fireflies about her neighbor who loves to play baseball.

It made me cry and I cried all over again yesterday when I read this post about Norris the Atlanta Brave. God is so good.

3. My whole week was made when I saw that Sophie is going to be hosting a DipTacular this Wednesday just in time for the start of college football season. You can read all the details right here.

For those of you not familiar with a DipTacular, it’s simply the greatest way to discover all manner of new things to dip your chips in.

4. Did someone say college football? Listen. SEC or no SEC. Whatever. (Not really whatever because I really want the SEC thing to happen, but I’m being coy.)

The bottom line is the Aggies start their season in just a few short days. Gig’em.

It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

5. And while we’re on the topic of wonderful, did any of y’all see Adele on the VMA awards? If you missed it you can watch it here.

In a world of people hatching out of eggs to make a statement, I believe this makes it obvious what talent really looks like. Amazing.

That’s it for today.

Stay classy.

Before I talk about the weekend, I would like to give a big thank you to P for understanding there was absolutely no way I could cook last night given that it was 111 degrees outside. The only reason anyone would want to heat up the oven under those circumstances would be if they just needed to stick their head in it to get a break from the real heat. Please join me in giving P a slow handclap like they do in the movies at really dramatic moments.

Caroline rode with me to pick up Mexican food from our favorite Mexican place. We’d gotten our food and were headed back home when we saw flashing police lights ahead and saw a car being pulled over. She whispered, “Just act casual, Mama. Just act casual.” It was as if we’d just held up a bank as opposed to picking up some chips and guacamole.

On Friday morning I woke Caroline up for school and she was a little groggy. I reminded her it was Friday and the beginning of the weekend. She replied, “OH NO! I’M SAD! I LOVE SCHOOL!” So we sent her out for DNA testing and should get the results back in 2-3 weeks.

In reality, I’m thrilled she is so pleased with school this year. It makes life easier for so many reasons. After school on Friday she and P left to go to the ranch and hunt pigs. Shockingly, I chose to stay home and drink wine with Gulley instead of stomping through a bunch of cactus in 110 degree heat.

When they arrived home around midnight, she was thrilled to report that she killed two pigs with one shot. That’s an impressive feat for anyone and pretty much solidified that P knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has the coolest daughter ever.

(I cropped the pigs out of this picture. Consider that an early Christmas gift.)

You know what I did on Friday nights when I was a third grader? I have no idea. But I guarantee it didn’t involve killing two pigs with one shot. Chances are good it involved trying out new braids on my Beauty Secrets Barbie.

We all slept in on Saturday morning and then went over to Gulley’s to watch The Pioneer Woman’s new cooking show on Food Network. Which led me to have an intense craving for chicken fried steak that won’t go away. And that’s a shame since I’m in a season of forgoing fatty foods due to my metabolism breaking up with me right before my 40th birthday.

Saturday night we had some friends come over that we hadn’t seen in forever. Mainly because they had triplets two years ago and we were afraid it might be contagious. Oh I kid. Life just gets busy and we were always going in two different directions. But it was so good to catch up on life and they even brought over one of the best chocolate cakes I’ve ever eaten. EVER.

AND they left it with us because they said they’re both on a diet. So we each ate one more piece yesterday and then threw it in the trash, THE OUTSIDE TRASH, lest we be tempted to dig it back out later on. Don’t judge. It happens.

Sunday morning we went to church where I almost passed out from heat exhaustion after standing outside trying to sign women up for fall Bible study. When we finally walked through the door I announced I wouldn’t be leaving the air-conditioning for the rest of the day even though Caroline was begging me to take her to Forever 21 because some girl in her class bought an owl necklace there that has a clock built into the owl’s stomach. FANCY.

But since I am a mean mom prone to heat exhaustion and crowd-driven panic attacks, I told her the necklace would have to wait for another day. So we settled in and had a movie marathon. One of us may have dozed off for thirty minutes or two hours.

Which was just as well because I was told I wasn’t allowed to sing along to The Little Mermaid. And how am I supposed to avoid that temptation unless I’m asleep?

So that was our weekend. Next time I’ll make something up if I can’t come up with anything better than this.

You’re welcome.

Yesterday afternoon I was talking on the phone to Gulley. We were just about to hang up when my phone cut me off and that’s when I noticed it had the spinning circle of death on the screen. Which really came as no surprise considering that my two-year-old iPhone has gotten to the point where it holds a charge for all of thirty minutes.

So I plugged it into the wall to charge, but when I came back thirty minutes later it still had the spinning circle thing. I tried to turn it off and it didn’t work. I hooked it up to my computer. Nothing.

This is a little embarrassing to admit but I began to wonder how long I was going to be without my phone. I felt like I’d just lost something very important like my favorite pair of jeans or one of my arms. And I thought about how these things never happened back in the day when phones were attached to a wall and had that twisty cord that you could twirl around and around and around your finger while you talked to that cute boy from Pre-Algebra who finally called you.

I had no idea what to do now that all my communication with the outside world had been cut off and so I figured I’d call Gulley to ask her how to fix my phone. But first I had to plug in our home phone. We unplugged it about a month ago because no one ever calls us on our home phone except solicitors or “sailors” as Caroline calls them since they are just trying to “sail” you something. (No, I don’t have a strong accent. Why do you ask?)

Anyway, I wasn’t going to call Gulley because she has some sort of expertise in the field of iPhones. In fact, she carried a plain old flip phone until some time last year when it finally just broke in two pieces. It’s just my natural response to call Gulley anytime any sort of crisis arises. And while she is wonderful at giving all sorts of life advice on many subjects, she was no help at all in this situation. Although she did ask her husband and he suggested I take out my SIM card and put it back in.

The only problem is that solution made the assumption I know how to take out the SIM card in the first place.

I looked for some place to take out a battery or something and was about to resort to my standard, highly technical method of fixing things and just bang it really hard on the countertop. And, if that didn’t work, maybe throw it through the window.

Because all I knew is that there was no way I was going to walk into the Apple store and go up to the Genius Bar with my sad little generation ANCIENT iPhone 3. Oh the mockery and sneering that would ensue. And that would just be from my fellow customers.

I’m still not over the humiliation of going into the AT&T store last spring to buy a new case for my phone and being told in a stage whisper, “We keep the cases for the iPhone 3s in the back.” They obviously did not want to taint their showroom with any type of antiquated cases from 2010.

Ultimately, I recalled that Gulley suggested I might want to check the Google and see if I could find a help site. So I googled “Walking in shame that I still have an iPhone 3 and now it won’t turn off or die. Help me.”

And this is why the internet is such a handy, modern device. I immediately found a message board where various folks were mocking some poor soul who stored a lot of photos on his iPhone only to have it die and lose all his pictures, but in the midst of all that mockery I saw that someone suggested he put his phone in recovery mode by pressing the HOME button and POWER button simultaneously and holding them for fifteen seconds.

I tried it. And TA-DA it worked.

I realize this is probably the most uninteresting thing you’ve read in a long time, but it’s the most interesting thing that happened to me yesterday so imagine how I feel.

And now I’m off to play Words with Friends because you don’t know what you’ve got until you think it might be gone.

Goodbye.