It's your lucky day...

...Because I have decided to grace you with TWO new posts today.  You're welcome. :)  Below are a few things that I found on pinterest.com that made me literally "lol".  For realsies.  Hope you get a teeny kick out of 'em.

Smooth moves and table tops

After yesterdays post about bosoms, I couldn't help but think back to my childhood and think of other random stories about Yours Truly.  You see, I am an only child, so while growing up I had a lot of "me" time, and had to figure out ways to keep myself entertained.  I would often play with Barbie's, color in coloring books, and dance on the top of my grandparents picnic table.  My grandparents had a bright green picnic table that was placed in our backyard, and when I thought I was alone I would climb atop the table, sing at the top of my lungs, and do the shimmy.  I was a dancer, and the picnic table was my stage.  I had moves that would've made Fred Astaire weep with pride.  I had moves that made my mom and my grandmother weep from laughter.  My grandfather, on the other hand, was apparently horrified by my magnificent moves, having fears that his granddaughter would grow up to be an entertainer.  That would dance on tables.  :)  You see, all the while I was happily displaying spirit fingers and kicking high into the air, my family was watching me from the family room window, simply observing my antics.
Flash forward twenty-something years later, and even though I've got the magic in me, and am a dancing fool, I have retired my table dancing ways (much to my grandpa's relief).
I leave you with a clip of the 1920's dance version of the shimmy.  My moves mostly resembled that of the dancing lady in sparkles.  Enjoy :)

Cross my heart

When I was a kid, I was a bit obnoxious.  Surprising, I know.  I remember being about six or seven and shopping in the AM&A's basement with my mom and auntie, and I would always, always, make a bee-line for the super duper, extra large, enormously huge, shockingly white, over the shoulder boulder holders. Without fail.  While my mom and aunt would be perusing the racks, I was adorning my own. Oh yes, I would strap on the triple H contraption (over my Strawberry Shortcake tee, of course), and casually walk around the department store until I was noticed by my mother.  Once they finally caught a glimpse of my new attire (it never took long), my mom would try to coerce me to put the gigantic bra back (in between snorts of laughter), and my aunt would just encourage me even more, by shuffling me back to the bra section, trying to find an even bigger one.  It was hard to be discouraged from continuing this random act of obnoxiousness, when I was being encouraged with the laughter of my dear old mummsie, and my auntie.  I think I finally stopped this part of my shopping routine when I was about nine, and moved on to greener pastures (and less embarrassing ones), like trying on the largest and most ridiculous hat I could find, and trying to convince my mom that I really do need a magenta hat with the feather, bow, and netting strewn across my face.
Now that I'm an adult I wouldn't dare display this kind of behavior while shopping (except for the hat part.  I always try on large hats, because who could resist  a hat that resembles the rear end of a peacock? Not this lady, that's who), but every time I walk past the "delicates" section of a department store, I can't help but get a warm and fuzzy feeling, and smile to myself about the hijinks that I would pull as a kid. :)
So, were you a little weirdo like me when you were a peanut?  What did you find hilarious when you were a kid?  Drop me comment. :)

Yankee Doodle Dandy

So yesterday was the 4th of July, and I did what most Americans did.  I ate a hotdog.  I watched fireworks.  I swore like a sailor at the mosquitos that bit my elbows even though I applied 763 coatings of OFF on my delicate, apparently delicious, mosquito attracting skin.  Little bastards.  But then as the night wound down (meaning it was past 11 o'clock and I was about to get my jammie-jams on), I morphed into an old man.  Like I do every 4th of July.  And when I say "old man", I mean a person akin to sitting on their front porch with a hose, that sprays and yells at any of the little turds that dare step foot on the front lawn.  Except replace a hose with a bullhorn, and a back deck for a front porch.  You see, when the hubs and I got home I foolishly assumed that all festivities were over.  I stomped out any smoking sparklers, put the leftover poppers into the junk drawer for next year, neatly folded up my "It's AmeriCAN not American't" tee-shirt, and poked my dog to make sure that he was still alive after the sedative that was given to him to make sure he wouldn't die from fright.  And just as I was about to drift off to slumberland where I would dream about how I would successfully obliterate every mosquito that ever dared to live, *BOOM* *POW* *KABLEWIE*  Someone didn't get the memo that after the "grand finale" you are to retire your giant sparklers that go "boom".  One dog starts whining, and the other one gets the trembles, and I get my grandpa stance on.  I then proceed to stomp out onto my back porch and watch as fireworks explode practically onto my house because some folks want to see one more glittery poof of an explosion.  It's a terrifying sight.  Me.  With sock monkey pajamas standing firmly with my hands on my hips, and a scowl on my face.  I'm sure the people who were shooting off the fireworks were terrified as they caught glimpses of my "business face" in the sparkly bursts of red, purple, and gold.  I would sick the dogs on them but they were too busy having a mini stroke and a panic attack.
So next 4th of July you will see me twirling down the street with a sparkler in one hand, and a hotdog in another.  But once that clock strikes twelve, watch out, 'cause I'm bustin' out the hose. :)

Put a pin in it...

So, I've recently discovered this cool site called pinterest.com, where it has thousands of pictures of DYI, recipe ideas, home decor ideas, and things that are just pur-tty.  I've decided that each week I'm going to post some of my random favorites from the site.  Enjoy! :)

Sneaks and stilettos

If you were to ever peruse my closet you would probably first notice that my wardrobe is ROY G. BIV'd out, going from summer to winter, and then you would probably stop looking because it's fairly boring.  My weekend attire usually consists of jeans, a tee-shirt, and sneaks.  In other words, I generally dress fairly casual, but deep down inside I love all things that are frilly, glittery and fabulous.  When I was a teenager I would pour over magazines like Vogue, dreaming of wearing all things poofy.  Flash forward a decade later, and poofy dreams have been replaced with glamorous things like paying the mortgage, and remembering to take the car in for an oil change (ie: real life)  Now every once in a while I will step out of my comfort zone of tee-shirts and hoodies, and splurge on a cardigan or shirt that has frills, sequins, or poofs.  If I'm really feeling adventurous it will sport all three.  The more it resembles a cupcake, the better.  To give you an idea(r) about the things that make me mutter "hello, lov-ah" a-la Carrie Bradshaw, I've included a few pictures.  These are items that I will never own, but are still fun to oggle over.
If I ever win the lottery, I plan on meeting Elie Saab, and having him design my lounge wear, that I plan on wearing around the house.  I need to look classy while I sit on my chaise lounge while I am fanned with palm fronds.  These are a few of his cupcakey, beautiful creations :)

And then there's the shoes.... You can't forget the shoes...

Miu Miu Mary Janes.  Just click your heels three times.

Loubouton for Rodarte.  It's a practical shoe.  One part glamour, one part weapon. :)
So the next time you see me sportin' my Chucks and a white tee-shirt (that probably has coffee stains on it), just know that on the inside I am rocking a frilly gown and shoes that I would probably snap an ankle in. :)

*Photos courtesy of "Cupcakes and Cashmere" and "Elle.com"

Kentucky Fried Cruelty and Seal Sammies

I am a woman of many convictions.  No, I don't mean being thrown in the clink and having a wrap sheet, I mean the other type of convictions.  You know, sticking to my word and beliefs.  Just as I am random with many things in my life, it also applies to the things that I believe in with a deep seeded passion, and there is nothing that no one can do or say to sway the way I feel.  For those of you that know me, know that I love animals.  I every time there is an ASPCA commercial on t.v. I have to put the "mute" button on, and stare off into the distance, because those sad faces make me cry. Every. Single. Time.  I CANNOT stand the thought of any animal being mistreated and/or abused.  Makes me want to bust out the *Hulk Hands (*see previous post).  Now, my love for animals leads into some of my convictions.  And once I believe in something, good luck trying to change my mind.  Just a little FYI-sie, it won't happen.  One of these convictions is that I will never, ever eat Kentucky Fried Chicken. Ever.  Why, you might be wondering?  Well, let me paint you a little picture....I was a vegetarian for almost six years, and even though I am back to being a carnivore, I still hold a special place in my heart for animals.  So when I hear about an animal purposefully being mistreated, I stay away from those places and pump my fist in the air and figure out how I can make a change.  I will sign petitions, get other people to jump on the band wagon, and try to spread the word about these places that are simply preposterous.  One of those places happens to be KFC.  Now, don't let the charming fellow sporting a limp bow tie try to fool you.  The chicken distributors for KFC in the United States are notoriously known for torturing the chickens that they use that turn into the golden fried goodness in a bucket.  PeTA has been on the rampage against the business for years, trying to get them to change a way in which they slaughter their chickens that are used for consumption.  To date, chickens are said to have their beaks cut off and feathers plucked while they are still alive.  That's just plain gross and cruel.  Now, I'm not an idiot.  I know that the meat that I consume comes from a living, breathing creature (which makes me feel guilty any time I ever really think about it), but there is a humane way of doing things, and then there's that. So, even though the chicken bowls look scrumptious, I will never, ever eat KFC.
Another thing that I stick to my guns to, is not eating seafood that is exported from Canada during the winter months.  The reason why, is because during those winter months, many of the fishing companies in Canada club seals simply to earn money for their furs.  Another senseless, pointless, cruel act that is completely unnecessary.  The reason why I stay away from seafood imported from oh-Canada is because the profit earned from products sold, goes into the pockets of the companies that are killing seals.  If you don't buy their product, then you don't fill their pockets.  A simple way to hopefully impact their overall thinking of what they are doing.

I know today's post isn't funny, and I'm sure some of you are rolling your eyes over what I just "preached" about, but the fact is, what I stand for is in fact, a random fact about me.  And that's the point of this whole blog thing.  If I can't share about the randomness that is in fact me, then what's the point. I've attached some links that have more information about what I've just talked about.  If it tickles your fancy, check it out.  If it doesn't, well then take away from it what you will.  My question to you is, is there something that you strongly believe in?  If so, drop me a comment. :)
Visit: http://www.kentuckyfriedcruelty.com/ to learn more about KFC,
 http://www.humanesociety.org/issues/seal_hunt/ to learn more about what you can do to put an end to the killing of seals,
and http://www.aspca.org/ to help a furry friend :)