With the Summer hightailing it out of dodge while EVERYTHING pumpkin is busting through the door I decided it was a perfect time for some much-needed pampering. A mani pedi does wonders for this girl.
Recently I switched up facilities that tend to my hooves. I was no longer feeling the love at Style Nails, so I started an affair with Cuticle Corner.
No fear people my feet are still snickered about in foreign languages as if they’re not even in the damn room. I really wish I knew how to say “maybe it’s your freakishly small hands that make my feet appear exceptionally large!” That seems like a lot of work, so I just let them gossip.
I must say I LOVE the way Geenie works her magic, however, like everything else good in this world there is a price. Mine is being told “RELAX” “Stop finger fighting me!” and my very favorite “I will charge you one dollar every time I tell you to relax.” Yes, I keep going back.
On Friday, I had an appointment for 3:00. I arrived at 2:40 with the intention of scanning the polish selection and catching up on the latest issue of People magazine. Unbeknownst to me, this is against the obvious secret code of nail salons.
First Geenie asks “why you come so early?” I innocently responded with the facts about color choice, which was not the correct answer. Next thing I know I’m being escorted to the pedicure chair of shame where “Helen” will now be doing my pedicure. Pedicure prison is a real thing at this salon.
Why I felt the need to explain to “Helen,” who could care less, that I just wanted to take my time choosing a color and read the People magazine is beyond me, but I did. Negative zero Ef’s were given by Helen who bitched in Spanish to her co-worker the entire time.
Once I was paroled over to the manicure station I was greeted by Geenie, where I sat relaxed in silence. It might have been the fear of being sent to solitary that kept me on my toes.
Just as Geenie was done, I asked if she had time to do my eyebrows. Because at this moment I had lost my mind.
I hopped up on the table, and without missing a beat, the crucifixion of my eyebrows began.
- Your brow wild.
- They so thick this will hurt.
- A slew of under the breath disgust.
What would an eyebrow crucifixion be without dragging other body parts into the mix? Pretty freaking awesome if you’re asking me!
Sadly the words “what about lip?” were uttered and I responded with a very optimistic yet clearly wrong “why? Do you think I need it?” If only I could go back in time.
- I make you look like woman again.
- This hurt bad, very bad.
- Welcome back to woman.
Conclusion: My friends and family are either too horrified to inform me that I missed my calling as a Tony Orlando impersonator or Geenie is a bitch.
Enjoy the ride!
Just a little update to let the world know that yes, Peanut and Landon have been accepted to Camp Bow Wow! I know, I’m still in awe at their success.
As you can see during their interview they clearly nailed it. Just look at those wagging tails working the room like they own the damn place.
I was able to witness everything through my Camp Cam App. I think I missed my calling. The level of enjoyment I received stalking my dogs was alarming at best. Surveillance engineer or stalker … that line is very thin.
After some initial formalities of the meet and greet portion of their interview, Peanut & Landon were taken to socialize with the other members. I’ll assume this is where business cards and bones were exchanged.
I know what you’re thinking, “everyone gets in Lisa, it’s a game.” I’m not going to lie, this did cross my mind. Part of me thought I was being forced to jump through hoops in order to make me believe my fur babies were extra special, but then I witnessed Bella, the 6-pound chihuahua mix shaking like a leaf in her Burberry knockoff coat as her owner told her “you flunked” while he was handed her rejection notice. Oh yea, right in front of us.
For the record, Bella seemed quite pleased with this outcome, however, her owner was now forced to continue making Martinis for her all day. I’m guessing she likes them dirty at night.
It was all good at the end of the day. Peanut proudly received his acceptance notification as he posed for the camera, knowing full well this beauty would be on display for the world to see on the refrigerator a/k/a … the box of honor.
Landon on the other hand …….
Something tells us he was “accepted” because siblings are an automatic admission.
It doesn’t matter if you’re shaking like Bella, smiling like Peanut or winging it like Landon just make sure you … Enjoy the Ride!
Whether you believe in reincarnation or not I’m sure there has been a moment in your life when you thought “wow, I would love to come back as _________.” I have on more than one occasion.
I always imagined coming back as an animal, well, because they are just so much better people. Nothing but unconditional love.
I’m thinking something domesticated, nothing that prowls around in the jungle. That life seems a little tense.
Honestly, I’m not into looking over my shoulder on a daily basis because of a big bad co-animal looking for a snack or some bored rich guy looking for a new rug … OH HELL TO THE NO!
Being a bird might be cool, but I’m not a big fan of heights, or a world where clean windows are potential death traps. Although leaving my mark on the windshields of the world while laughing from a nearby tree does sound inviting. Hmm … maybe.
Then I thought perhaps I could be a peacock, a flamingo or one of those other birds that have wings just for show. Everyone admires them for their good looks and pities them for their inability to fly. Hmm, sounds like the Kim K of the bird world … no thanks.
Looks like I’m a house pet kind of girl, however, I want to be placed in a house with someone who loves their pets like I do. Yes, I’m being selective.
Even though I’m deathly allergic to cats, I must say I LOVE their cattitudes. Recently I witnessed a cat walking across a 4 lane road, looking straight ahead as we all screeched, swerved and skidded to avoid killing him. ZERO folks … Z E R O ef’s were given!
He was so badass! He marched up a nearby lawn without even turning to inquire what all the ruckus was about. He already knew people, he already knew.
If I had the pleasure of coming back as a cat, I would insist on being Kate’s cat. Kate, over at Views and Mews, is the Carol Brady of cat moms. She’s purrfect!
I already picked out my parents if I’m lucky enough to come back as a dog. I want gay parents. Like Cam & Mitchel from Modern Family.
I met Richard and Robert when I took Peanut & Landon to the Vet. They were dropping off their daughter dog Bette. I’m 100% certain she is named after Bette Davis.
Bette had luggage including a monogrammed tote that read “The girl that owns this bag has been untouched, she is an original sexy beast.” I was very close to asking if they would consider rescuing a middle-aged woman.
As I sat green with envy, watching Bette sitting next to her tote as if she knew the routine. First the endless kisses. Then the hugs. Next, the reassurance she’ll have a fabulous getaway as she was swept off her paws by the young attendant, and carried to her suite. It was love at first sight for me.
Enjoy the Ride!
All morning I pondered on the question:
At what point did my life turn from waking up on a Saturday morning wondering what exactly did I do last night, to waking up thinking what container am I going to use for a fecal sample? Who am I …. really now?
No doubt there have been thousands of questionable comparisons over the years, but this was literally my first thought of the day. Life is too short people!
The longer I stayed in bed contemplating container options, the weirder it got.
You see, the fecal matter in question was being collected on behalf of my fur balls. That’s right ladies & gents, then I had to transport it, along with the fur balls, to the Vet for examination. Why?
Well, because I recently applied, yes APPLIED, for them to attend a Doggie Daycare and I need to provide evidence that they are indeed the healthy canines I claimed they were on their application. Because applying for colleges wasn’t stressful enough.
This all started because of some upcoming events that will leave my little lumps of love alone for a long stretch of time, and because we are wonderful parents we made the decision to investigate some options that would allow our little guys some outside loving hands and play time while we’re gone. Yes, we are still talking about pets.
After conversations with other pet owners, and the review of endless online accolades, we decided to give Camp Bow Wow the opportunity to care for Peanut & Landon in our absence. Not quite that easy.
My initial inquiry prompted an email with instructions that are equivalent to completing a FASFA application x’s 2. I have a new respect for parents of twins.
Aside from providing normal information such as an emergency contact, I was also required to describe how my guys interact with large dogs, people and disclose if they have ever been exposed to a group of 8 or more dogs. According to my responses I have successfully raised 2 sheltered homeschooled dogs.
Seriously, you do not realize how weird you are with your pets until you see things like “Peanut a/k/a “P” loves people, other animals, and children. He is an all around social butterfly wherever he goes” in your own handwriting.
After submitting the applications, along with their clean bills of health, I was able to schedule their interview. Yes, you did read that correctly …. INTERVIEW.
They are to report to Camp Bow Wow on Friday at 11:00 a.m. where they will be observed for 3 hours while I wait to hear if they’ve been accepted. Maybe there’s a bar nearby …
Personally, Camp Bow Wow should be honored to have my fur babies paws gracing their facility, but that’s the mother in me talking. Meanwhile, I’ll be scheduling an appointment with the Groomer so they look dapper for their big day.
Enjoy the Ride!
As far as I know I am not Irish, however, rumor has it that EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day. Let your inner Leprechaun shine!
Considering I’m not a big fan of drinking in excess or the color green one would think March 17th would be a dud for this girl. Hell to the no!
There are plenty of other ways to celebrate this “holiday.” Have you ever heard of Irish Soda bread? Sweet mother of everything wonderful. I crave this delicious lump of dough the second I turn my calendar.
Irish Potatoes are another delicacy that seems to surface the second Cupid leaves town. I’m not sure if any official scientific studies have been conducted to determine the level of sugar ingested by consuming one of these gems, but my unofficial study has determined the level is Diabetes. Insulin dependent diabetes to be exact.
Let’s not forget one of my old time favorites Lucky Charms. Oh, yes, these can be purchased all year round in the cereal isle of your local grocery store. Honestly, nothing says “magically delicious” more than picking out all the marshmallows and hiding them from your sister … hehehe!
Here’s a little something to get those Irish or sudo Irish eyes smiling today.
The bar for shenanigans has risen.
Apparently the myth is true, little piggies do go to the market.
Do not let this cuteness fool you.
The moment you realize everyone can read.
Someone will pay dearly for this trivial expression of shenanigans.
May your troubles be less and your blessings be more, and nothing but happiness come through your door.
Let your Shamrocks & Shenanigans ride shotgun while you …. Enjoy the Ride!
Happy St. Patty’s Day!
As you know from my previous post I recently experienced the art of Floating. What is it you ask? Well, it can be described as the best freaking thing since sliced bread by me.
In the beginning, it took me awhile to get comfortable. Naked and alone in pitch black room takes a minute to absorb.
I closed the door but left the low light and music on at first. The water was body temperature warm and soothing. Eventually, I did turn the lights and music off as I slipped into the quiet, peaceful zen. It didn’t take long before I was able to completely let go. Free at last.
The coolest part for me was having no concept of time whatsoever, and not caring about it at all. It feels so good.
Float Spas are popping up in my area, but from what I understand floating is nothing new, however, the experience has certainly changed. Once you add the word Spa it becomes sexy.
Apparently, floating also went by the name Isolation Tank, and are you ready … Sensory Deprivation Tank, as far back as 1954. This sounds scientific, not sexy so there were no appointments needed.
Today isolation tanks are located in beautiful rooms with inviting names like “Oasis” or “Grotto” that are chock full of amenities like fluffy towels, robes, scented soap, and shampoo. Anything to divert you away from the fact that you will soon be naked as a jaybird.
My room was spectacular with its private shower, candles, and a hint of lavender. This is how you get your zen on. The room my husband experienced is best described as a Pink Floyd lap of luxury fusion. Trippy with a dash of zen.
The idea behind the floatation therapy is to provide you with a way to pause the hectic, saturated world and enter a state of deep mental and physical relaxation. It takes you away from the endless sensory experiences that seem to consume us these days. It should be mandatory for teenagers and college students.
Just imagine if you could go into your head and give it a good Spring cleaning, leaving not a single dust bunny to clutter your thoughts, allowing you to focus on whatever you please. It basically brings out the best in your brain. My mind left fresh s a daisy.
As for the physical benefits, whew there is something to be said about feeling like a noodle. My muscles take a beating at the gym at least 4 times a week, so they were very grateful for this treat.
The magnesium from the Epsom salt-infused water brings your muscles back to life. It relieves tension and makes your skin incredible. I left looking like a smooth glow-worm.
All in all, it was peaceful, relaxing, invigorating, enlightening all rolled up into one amazing 90 minutes. This was a first for me and my husband, and we would both do it again, and again, and again. As they say, whatever makes your boat float, or in this case, booty.
Enjoy the Ride!
I’ve come to the conclusion that extreme anything is just too weird for me. It doesn’t matter what the subject is, I’m basically too lazy to be extreme. Seems like a lot of work.
Last night I popped into the grocery store for a pack of gum before hitting the gym. There is something euphoric about chewing while sweating my ass off that makes the experience a little less horrible. Clearly, I enjoy chewing or I wouldn’t have an ass to sweat off!
I noticed something going on in the line next to me. A crowd had formed. There were three-baggers in place, and I believe smoke coming from the conveyor belt. The only thing missing was paparazzi.
Of course, the Newsy Susie in me had to inquire. Turns out I was about to witness an extreme couponing moment. I confess I have watched the Extreme Couponing show more than once. Because I like to witness insanity at its finest.
Let me just put this on the record. I’m all for using coupons and saving money, however, I am not into math beyond 50% off or buy one get one free, especially while shopping. Nor to I have a bunker to store 5,000 bottles of laundry detergent that I got for 30 cents.
Just listening to the explanation as to how someone would manage to purchase 100 bottles of shampoo for 2 cents is enough to give me a headache. Literally!
So, back to the insanity at register 2. This woman had an entire cart filled with CASES of yogurt, and more waiting to be rung up. Doesn’t yogurt expire?
My bones were getting stronger just looking at that amount of calcium in one spot.
Next on the belt were stacks of Lipton side dishes in a bag. Or shall I say bloat in a bag.
I’m not sure what else she had because I was too busy watching her frantically rummaging through her purse. Oh no! She FORGOT something.
It couldn’t possibly be coupons since there were enough to build that border wall we’ve all been hearing about sitting right in front of the cashier. Who has time for that level of clipping?
I’ll never know, and neither will you because the next thing I heard was “I live right across the street, I’ll be right back.” Followed by deafening SILENCE.
Enjoy the Ride!
Well, well, well look who is celebrating their 5th anniversary with WordPress. Ah, it feels like yesterday.
Last year, in celebration of this glorious milestone, I posted an essay that is sadly more relevant today Weapons of Mass Destruction Have a Face. A big orange face to be exact.
So, here we are, one year later, with the shit literally hitting the fan. Oh, happy day … not.
In just 365 days we went from watching this country’s biggest hit reality show to actually being contestants. I’m just sitting here desperately waiting for this show to be cancelled.
The show, as I like to call it, is “The Opposite.” That’s right folks, we are all participating in a new reality where our host is the opposite of being honest, treating women or anyone else who isn’t white like people, speaking openly, confronting situations directly, having patience, and basically just being a good solid citizen. The Opposite is now leading our path. Where we’re heading has yet to be determined.
In just a little over 30 days our host has brought several teams to the surface.
First, we have Team Merica. The bible thumping flag waving team who wouldn’t know the constitution if it were narrowed down to a bumper sticker, who take pride in naming at least two of the seven dwarfs, yet cannot muster up the name of a single Supreme Court Judge. They believe every alternative fact presented, including, but not limited to, our former president being a member of Isis.
The White Team is a sub group to Team Merica that includes well-intentioned educated folks who for whatever reason cast their vote. Some say it’s because he’s a businessman, others believed that he would “clean the swamp”, but most, in my opinion, did it because they were tired of a Democrat “giving away” everything they earned.
Next, we have Team Resistance. Not hired actors or paid by a 3rd party to participate. They are a feisty group made up of men, women, children, babies & dogs. They are taking to the streets to have their voices heard bearing signs, pussy hats, and passion for all that is good for the greater good. Their voices are speaking out for common human rights for all people. They are demanding answers from their elected officials regarding our planet, our healthcare, our animals, our freedoms, our sanity and OUR COUNTRY.
Then we have Team Oh Fuck. This group really, really, really thought they were doing the right thing when they went to the voting booth to cast a vote for “something different” and now they sit quietly pondering the definition of “different.”
Next up, Hollywood. This crew brings money, glitter, glitz, glamor, a microphone and a stage to spread a message they feel should be heard. This group has members on all of the above teams.
Last but not least we have Wall Street. They bring money, mo’ money and of course, mo’ money, which can easily allow them to rule the world … literally. Just remember folks the lack of a moral compass, a soul, and their cloven hooves will eventually lead to their demise. Hopefully.
So, in just over 30 days since the season premiere of “The Opposite” we’ve certainly been kept on our toes with the daily cliffhangers. What’s next? never sounded more terrifying.
Our new host likes to keep the teams confused. As they wander around questioning whether facts are truth or if lies are now alternative facts, which in our old world were just lies, he is vigorously flushing their tax dollars down the drain on his weekend getaways, our satellite First Lady, and my favorite, the 2017 Feed My Ego Tour a/k/a 2020 campaign rally. What just happened?
While the teams scramble to fact check like Ninjas, desperately trying to determine which news is real, fake or somewhere in between, Executive Orders are being signed sealed and delivered faster than a middle of the night Tweet. Diversion at its finest.
Thing have been tense between the teams. While each team frantically attacks each other via social media outlets, the wool is pulled further over their once bright hopeful eyes. Next stop, slaughterhouse.
Let’s just hope that this show will be cancelled long before the Season Finale scheduled to air November, 2020. Until then, crank up the music and Enjoy the Ride!
Is it possible to have a lifetime of happiness jammed into one week? Yes, yes it most certainly is possible.
It all started on Saturday, February 11th when we went on a double date with vodka and Neil Diamond. Oh, I know I have your attention now.
I’m not a drinker, not even wine, not even socially. Typically if I’m going to go “hardcore” for a night on the town, I’m doing it with sparkling water, and …. hold on to your seats… LEMON.
With that being said I’m really not sure what possessed me to order a Cosmo, and I have NO CLUE how that escalated to having my own damn shaker at the table (twice), but it happened. Maybe it was all the love in the air…hmm.
We went out to celebrate our anniversary, which just happens to be on Valentine’s Day, which is also the busiest night on the planet to celebrate, which is why we avoid it like the plague. We’ve lived we’ve learned.
This year we were invited by a family member to see the Real Diamond Band, a Neil Diamond cover band at a local venue, along with our two very feisty aunts. When opportunity knocks…answer.
Let’s hear it for Aunt Jean & Aunt Sophie who at 75 & 78 make Thelma and Louise look like freaking church ladies. True story!
Once the party got started, Aunt Sophie took to the dance floor with her air guitar in tow, whispering “I feel 25!” in my ear as she headed out for her first solo of the night. Aunt Jean was in charge of replenishing the cocktails in between dances. A task that kept her busy throughout the evening.
All I can say is there is something religious about singing Sweet Caroline at the top of your lungs with a group of strangers. Hallelujah!
No good story ever started with the word salad, this is fact.
Next up was Valentine’s Day/26th Anniversary. Nothing says I love you more than attending a therapy session with your mate. Flowers & chocolate are temporary, getting to the truth lasts a lifetime.
As if that wasn’t enough for one week my son turned 22 on Friday. It’s still hard to believe how quickly time passes. One minute you’re picking up their toys, the next you’re picking up the trail of socks, towels, shorts …… So, in reality, time flies when you’re bending over.
I’m kidding, not really.
My Zac is a determined young man making his mark in the world. He is bright, hilarious, and keeps truth in the forefront. Never ask his opinion unless you’re prepared to hear the truth.
Just when you think there is a break, my birthday hits the floor. That’s right ladies and gentleman I have gained another year. The BEST part of my day was Mother Nature, in all of her glory, provided this February birthday girl with a recording breaking 70-degree day. Can we get a round of applause?
I was showered with good wishes, food, jewelry, a new FitBit, a birthday hat at the gym, and a ton of LOVE lasting for days. Who knew turning 53 could be so grand?
Yesterday was the grand finale of the festivities. My husband planned a “surprise” for me, which would be fine if I were one to enjoy surprises outside of hitting the Power Ball, or my husband wasn’t the guy who gave me a turbo hair dryer for Christmas. He still thinks that was a great idea.
Have you ever heard of Floating? Click on the link and learn. I could never put into words how the experience was other than I would swear I saw a unicorn. Magical.
There was something liberating about the floating experience, or maybe that was just the unicorn talking, I won’t know until I try it again.
Enjoy the Ride …. make it magical!
On Thursday I had to take the fur babies to the Vet for a dental procedure. Easier said than done friends.
The hardest part was leaving them there for the day. The fact that they were being held, while listening to how cute they were as they were kissed on the head made it easier … for them, not me.
The procedure is equivalent to human routine cleaning. Except dogs are knocked out cold.
My luv bugs had no pressing issues other than having breath with the scent of Satan’s anus due to tartar and plaque buildup. A mint will not help breath once it reaches the Satan anus level.
The tech informed me that I should be getting a call on their status after lunch. When 12:01 came and went my concern started. I waited until 2:30 before making the call to check on their status. A lifetime … it was a lifetime.
At that time I was told Landon was still being treated, Peanut was waking up nicely with a “beautiful smile” and the doctor would call when all was done. Perfect!
When the doctor called she was very kind. She informed me that no teeth needed to be
extracted, but that Landon had a “crooked canine tooth” that could give him trouble in the future. If she said he needed braces it would have sounded completely normal coming out her mouth.
Fast forward to 7 pm when we went to pick them up.
This is when I started to think we might be a little crazy. We were discussing looking forward to seeing their excitement. Somewhere in between packing their coats and leaving the car running so they wouldn’t be cold.
The thought of them being high as kites never really crossed our minds. Peanut came out crying like the drama king he is and Landon stared at nothing with a little smirk. They were officially the crying drunk and that one guy who went too far at the party.
While all this was going on in the waiting room the receptionist presented the bill. I’m pretty sure it was brought to the desk with a forklift, but we were too busy with our high dogs to notice.
All I do know is that when these luv bugs smile I need to see a SOLID GOLD GRILL.
That evening the messages of concern from friends were blowing up my phone. Inquiring if they were in any pain. Wondering if they were “ok”. Pet people flock together.
The responses are as follows:
Landon is happily staring at nothing. Loving every second.
Peanut is being held like a baby. Milking every second.
My wallet is the only thing in any sort of pain. It’s still shivering in the corner.
They are being waited on by their two human roommates. Being hand fed scrambled eggs.
As we approach Oscar season, please look for Peanut’s name on the list of actors being considered for the ultra dramatic role as “dog who had his teeth cleaned.” This little guy has put Bette Davis to SHAME over the past few days.
Sport your smiles and Enjoy the Ride!