We salute all those who made the ultimate sacrifice.
WTF?!?!
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Not sure what's going on but for some reason, I can't respond to any comments!!
Secondhand Sunday
Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
"OH, WHAT SHALL I BE?"
Original Post Date, September 4, 2009
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite games was called "What Shall I Be?"
This exciting game showed us all the options that were available for the aspiring career girl in 1972.
The most helpful thing was that you could look at your personal attributes and weed through the careers to find the one you were best suited for.
You are emotional: Good for Model and Actress
You failed biology: Bad for Teacher and Nurse
You have a nice smile: Good for Airline Hostess and Model
You are overweight: Bad for Airline Hostess, Ballet Dancer and Model
You are pretty: Good for Model and Actress
You are clumsy: Bad for Airline Hostess, Ballet Dancer, Model and Nurse
You are friendly: Good for Airline Hostess, Nurse and Teacher
You are a slow thinker: Bad for Airline Hostess and Nurse
You are calm in an emergency: Good for Airline Hostess, Nurse and Teacher
You get too excited: Bad for Airline Hostess and Nurse
Oh, the dreams that were available to us as young ladies...
What a crock of shit!
The years I wasted when I could have had this lovely as my role model.
"She starts dancing when the music starts and goes up and down and round and round."
The personality cards would still be helpful for choosing the right career.
You would be a great pole dancer if:
You are pretty
You aren't clumsy
You failed biology
You are a slow thinker
You have a nice smile
We've come a long way, baby.
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
"OH, WHAT SHALL I BE?"
Original Post Date, September 4, 2009
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite games was called "What Shall I Be?"
This exciting game showed us all the options that were available for the aspiring career girl in 1972.
The most helpful thing was that you could look at your personal attributes and weed through the careers to find the one you were best suited for.
You are emotional: Good for Model and Actress
You failed biology: Bad for Teacher and Nurse
You have a nice smile: Good for Airline Hostess and Model
You are overweight: Bad for Airline Hostess, Ballet Dancer and Model
You are pretty: Good for Model and Actress
You are clumsy: Bad for Airline Hostess, Ballet Dancer, Model and Nurse
You are friendly: Good for Airline Hostess, Nurse and Teacher
You are a slow thinker: Bad for Airline Hostess and Nurse
You are calm in an emergency: Good for Airline Hostess, Nurse and Teacher
You get too excited: Bad for Airline Hostess and Nurse
Oh, the dreams that were available to us as young ladies...
What a crock of shit!
The years I wasted when I could have had this lovely as my role model.
"She starts dancing when the music starts and goes up and down and round and round."
The personality cards would still be helpful for choosing the right career.
You would be a great pole dancer if:
You are pretty
You aren't clumsy
You failed biology
You are a slow thinker
You have a nice smile
We've come a long way, baby.
I could watch this ALL day!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Watch the little dancing machine in the background. Talk about stealing someone's spotlight!
I sleep solo
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
I've never been very keen on sharing my bed with anyone.
No, not even then.
After we do the deed, put your pants on and leave. Or sleep on the couch or something. That Lucy and Ricky knew what they were doing by sleeping in separate beds.
That said, when I say that I sleep solo, that means no pets, either. For as much as I love them, I prefer that they sleep comfortably in their beds next to mine. That hasn't been a problem so far since Bernie is too chubby to jump on the bed anyway. The only time I bring her up is during a thunderstorm to calm her down.
Vinny slept on my bed the first few nights I brought him home but he stopped for a while when I mistook him for a pile of blankets and kicked him off the bed. Twice.
Since Millie's been here, Vinny has decided that daytime is dog time. He lets me hang out on the couch with them and take them out for walks with nary a meow. But when it's time for bed, that's Vinny's time.
Both girls are lounging in their beds so right before I turn the light off, I yell, "Vin Vin!" and I hear his bell tinkling up the steps as he races to my bedroom. To ensure that no one thinks he's a Mama's Boy, he stops just short of the door and casually strolls toward the bed.
"Sup?"
I told you that Vinny had started peeing in the house again with the warmer weather but ever since Millie has joined the household, he's stopped. I think she's his muse or something. He just sits and stares at her for the longest time. He must be excited by the thought of the taboo of their love and always seems startled when I catch him looking at her.
"What? Um, no, I wasn't looking at a dog. I was staring at a bird. Yeah, that's it...a bird."
I'm beginning to think that sleeping solo is overrated.
No, not even then.
After we do the deed, put your pants on and leave. Or sleep on the couch or something. That Lucy and Ricky knew what they were doing by sleeping in separate beds.
That said, when I say that I sleep solo, that means no pets, either. For as much as I love them, I prefer that they sleep comfortably in their beds next to mine. That hasn't been a problem so far since Bernie is too chubby to jump on the bed anyway. The only time I bring her up is during a thunderstorm to calm her down.
Vinny slept on my bed the first few nights I brought him home but he stopped for a while when I mistook him for a pile of blankets and kicked him off the bed. Twice.
Since Millie's been here, Vinny has decided that daytime is dog time. He lets me hang out on the couch with them and take them out for walks with nary a meow. But when it's time for bed, that's Vinny's time.
Both girls are lounging in their beds so right before I turn the light off, I yell, "Vin Vin!" and I hear his bell tinkling up the steps as he races to my bedroom. To ensure that no one thinks he's a Mama's Boy, he stops just short of the door and casually strolls toward the bed.
"Sup?"
I told you that Vinny had started peeing in the house again with the warmer weather but ever since Millie has joined the household, he's stopped. I think she's his muse or something. He just sits and stares at her for the longest time. He must be excited by the thought of the taboo of their love and always seems startled when I catch him looking at her.
"What? Um, no, I wasn't looking at a dog. I was staring at a bird. Yeah, that's it...a bird."
I'm beginning to think that sleeping solo is overrated.
New dance craze
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Okay, so how many of you remember the 80's classic, Weekend at Bernie's, where these two young guys were invited to spend the weekend with their boss at his house in the Hamptons?
As you may recall, Bernie died shortly after they got there but since they didn't want to give up their one chance at Hamptons reveling, they pretended that Bernie was alive.
Here's the newest dance craze inspired by the movie. I tried doing it but I got dizzy!
Can you do it??
As you may recall, Bernie died shortly after they got there but since they didn't want to give up their one chance at Hamptons reveling, they pretended that Bernie was alive.
Here's the newest dance craze inspired by the movie. I tried doing it but I got dizzy!
Can you do it??
Stripper Chick Wisdom
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Chrissy's real truth about life that no one will tell you.
"What if the Hokey Pokey really IS what it's all about?"
Monday Morning Bernie & Millie
Monday, May 9, 2011
Hi Guys! Sorry, I've been a lame-o and haven't posted anything worthwhile lately. I've been having a really hard time with things, especially with Mother's Day, so I've just been trying to keep busy with both houses.
I did manage to go out and buy a Flip video camera but I haven't had much time for anything other than lame videos. Get used to 'em. I'm going to start a library of them once I can figure out how. This is the first one.
If you're a Facebook friend, you've already been treated to it but here it is again.
You're welcome...
This is pretty much how Bernie looks all the time. Caught Millie in a down moment.
I did manage to go out and buy a Flip video camera but I haven't had much time for anything other than lame videos. Get used to 'em. I'm going to start a library of them once I can figure out how. This is the first one.
If you're a Facebook friend, you've already been treated to it but here it is again.
You're welcome...
This is pretty much how Bernie looks all the time. Caught Millie in a down moment.
Monday Morning Vinny
Monday, May 2, 2011
My new favorite show is Selling New York.
I'm afraid this is all Mommy can afford, Vinny. Move over.
The scoopage on Millie
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Okay, so I absolutely, logically and rationally know that this is NOT the right time to get a new dog. BUT....I've been sneaking a peek at Petfinder.com for the last 2 or 3 months and every time I go, I'm drawn to the senior dogs.
You know, the ones with the graying muzzles and sad faces. The ones that are less likely to get new homes because everyone wants a cute little puppy.
Well, this face and description kept popping up:
Hello my name is Millie and I am a 9 year old beagle girl that was left here by my owner. I do not know why. I am a quiet, calm girl and sure could use a new home. Get me off this darn damp concrete here at the pound. I am spayed, good with kids, dogs, and cats. Yes I am a senior girl, but 9 years is not so old for a beagle. I have no apparent health issues. I walk nicely on the leash even though my beagle nose is to the ground. Please come out and meet me. Love, Millie.
It was love at first sight.
But I decided that the timing was wrong and that if she was still available by the time I moved into my mother's house a month or so down the road, then it was meant to be. I even renamed her. What kind of name was Millie? They always pick names for them anyway so it's not like the dog knows that name.
I've been so completely overwhelmed at the notion of combining my household with my mother's and getting my house ready to sell, that I've been paralyzed into doing nothing.
So...why not get a dog??? The pound she was at is about an hour away from me in BFE. That's bum fuck Egypt or WAY, WAY out there for those of you who aren't familiar with the term.
I got lost getting there. OF COURSE. I arrived at the pound 7 minutes before they closed and ran to the door.
There was a young guy standing behind the desk.
Me, completely out of breath: "beagle....petfinder....Millie....want to adopt...where....beagle!!"
He was totally confused but somehow managed to point me in the direction of the kennel. I passed the flurry of dogs barking, "take me! take me!"
And then I saw her. Sleeping on the cement floor at the back of a cage.
I knelt down, "Millie?" and she slowly walked over to the door, tail wagging and licked my hand through the bars.
The dog warden was passing by when I said, "I know you're closing, but I want this dog."
"Well...you know she's an OLD dog. NINE."
Yes, asshole, I know. Okay, I didn't say that. I said, "I know, that's why I want her."
I filled out all the paperwork just to realize I was $20 short since they only accepted cash. I asked them to hold her, kissed her head goodbye and went back the next day.
"Oh, by the way," the clerk said in the morning, "She's limping. She just started after we took her out to Tractor Supply and came back a few days ago."
Why the hell are you taking her to Tractor Supply???? They claimed that they didn't know why she was limping and that the vet wasn't there on the weekends.
Sure enough, I let her walk around a little and she was limping like Tiny Tim. God bless us, everyone!
Oh well...I had already fallen in love with her. And since I brought Bernie with me, she loved her too. There was no use turning back now.
And Millie is her real name. Can't change it now. I mean, if someone adopted me tomorrow (Shut it! It could happen...)I certainly wouldn't want them changing my name.
Well, guess what? I took Miss Millie to the vet today and she might need knee surgery! Now, according to the paperwork, I have three days to return her, but I think we all know that isn't going to happen.
I guess God just knew that I needed another little old lady to take care of.
Too bad this one doesn't have Medicare.
You know, the ones with the graying muzzles and sad faces. The ones that are less likely to get new homes because everyone wants a cute little puppy.
Well, this face and description kept popping up:
Hello my name is Millie and I am a 9 year old beagle girl that was left here by my owner. I do not know why. I am a quiet, calm girl and sure could use a new home. Get me off this darn damp concrete here at the pound. I am spayed, good with kids, dogs, and cats. Yes I am a senior girl, but 9 years is not so old for a beagle. I have no apparent health issues. I walk nicely on the leash even though my beagle nose is to the ground. Please come out and meet me. Love, Millie.
It was love at first sight.
But I decided that the timing was wrong and that if she was still available by the time I moved into my mother's house a month or so down the road, then it was meant to be. I even renamed her. What kind of name was Millie? They always pick names for them anyway so it's not like the dog knows that name.
I've been so completely overwhelmed at the notion of combining my household with my mother's and getting my house ready to sell, that I've been paralyzed into doing nothing.
So...why not get a dog??? The pound she was at is about an hour away from me in BFE. That's bum fuck Egypt or WAY, WAY out there for those of you who aren't familiar with the term.
I got lost getting there. OF COURSE. I arrived at the pound 7 minutes before they closed and ran to the door.
There was a young guy standing behind the desk.
Me, completely out of breath: "beagle....petfinder....Millie....want to adopt...where....beagle!!"
He was totally confused but somehow managed to point me in the direction of the kennel. I passed the flurry of dogs barking, "take me! take me!"
And then I saw her. Sleeping on the cement floor at the back of a cage.
I knelt down, "Millie?" and she slowly walked over to the door, tail wagging and licked my hand through the bars.
The dog warden was passing by when I said, "I know you're closing, but I want this dog."
"Well...you know she's an OLD dog. NINE."
Yes, asshole, I know. Okay, I didn't say that. I said, "I know, that's why I want her."
I filled out all the paperwork just to realize I was $20 short since they only accepted cash. I asked them to hold her, kissed her head goodbye and went back the next day.
"Oh, by the way," the clerk said in the morning, "She's limping. She just started after we took her out to Tractor Supply and came back a few days ago."
Why the hell are you taking her to Tractor Supply???? They claimed that they didn't know why she was limping and that the vet wasn't there on the weekends.
Sure enough, I let her walk around a little and she was limping like Tiny Tim. God bless us, everyone!
Oh well...I had already fallen in love with her. And since I brought Bernie with me, she loved her too. There was no use turning back now.
And Millie is her real name. Can't change it now. I mean, if someone adopted me tomorrow (Shut it! It could happen...)I certainly wouldn't want them changing my name.
Well, guess what? I took Miss Millie to the vet today and she might need knee surgery! Now, according to the paperwork, I have three days to return her, but I think we all know that isn't going to happen.
I guess God just knew that I needed another little old lady to take care of.
Too bad this one doesn't have Medicare.
Monday Morning Millie
Monday, April 18, 2011
Meet the newest addition to the Starr family! Nine year old, Millie.
I'll give you all the scoop tomorrow!
Stripper Chick Wisdom
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Chrissy's real truth about life that no one will tell you.
"Size doesn't matter.
Unless, of course, that size is small."
With heartfelt appreciation..
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Thank you all for your kind words of sympathy and friendship regarding Mom’s passing. They’ve given me great comfort.
We buried Mom last Monday, which was a CRAZY rainy and windy day. I was sure that the tent that they had erected at the gravesite was going to blow away and it was probably Mom’s last hurrah. We joked that the weather was befitting of her personality – you remembered her when you met her. My friend Nancy was standing next to me holding back the tent so that it didn't knock me onto the casket.
I’ve been blessed with the amazing fortune of a close knit group of girlfriends who were there for me the day of the service. Nancy, Michelle and I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping because, you know, nothing heals like some power shopping.
I took all of last week off and continued my power shopping through the week. I've been fine as long as I keep myself busy. Now, I'm not ignoring my grief. You know no one advocates feeling things more than me and there's nothing like the cathartic power of a good cry. It's just different than it was with Dad. I'm sad that she's gone but I'm so at peace knowing that she's with Dad and her parents and brothers. They always had so much fun together.
I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you that the waves of sadness come at odd times. I went to her house and was going through some things the other day. I didn't shed a tear the whole time until I got to the grocery store and passed the pudding snack cups. She loved those things. Clean up in Aisle 8!
Besides, I know she'll never really be gone. She's been telling Lisa and I for years that she's going to come back and haunt us. Maybe I'll have a medium come in to see what Mom has to say. I'm sure it will be something like this.
"Did you join Weight Watchers yet? And what kind of hairstyle is that?!"
Love you, Mom~
We buried Mom last Monday, which was a CRAZY rainy and windy day. I was sure that the tent that they had erected at the gravesite was going to blow away and it was probably Mom’s last hurrah. We joked that the weather was befitting of her personality – you remembered her when you met her. My friend Nancy was standing next to me holding back the tent so that it didn't knock me onto the casket.
I’ve been blessed with the amazing fortune of a close knit group of girlfriends who were there for me the day of the service. Nancy, Michelle and I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping because, you know, nothing heals like some power shopping.
I took all of last week off and continued my power shopping through the week. I've been fine as long as I keep myself busy. Now, I'm not ignoring my grief. You know no one advocates feeling things more than me and there's nothing like the cathartic power of a good cry. It's just different than it was with Dad. I'm sad that she's gone but I'm so at peace knowing that she's with Dad and her parents and brothers. They always had so much fun together.
I'm sure I don't have to tell any of you that the waves of sadness come at odd times. I went to her house and was going through some things the other day. I didn't shed a tear the whole time until I got to the grocery store and passed the pudding snack cups. She loved those things. Clean up in Aisle 8!
Besides, I know she'll never really be gone. She's been telling Lisa and I for years that she's going to come back and haunt us. Maybe I'll have a medium come in to see what Mom has to say. I'm sure it will be something like this.
"Did you join Weight Watchers yet? And what kind of hairstyle is that?!"
Love you, Mom~
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