Rocktober!

There is a smoking hot man in my bed just waiting for me. And he is waiting for me to finish posting all of my show n' tell from our superuberphun time last night.  And by our fun time, I mean the field trip I had with the kids, natch.

Once I do that, I will hop in that sack and do what I do every night.

Which is to ask my lover, Who is that on the cover of that magazine for lawyers this month? Franco who? Wait, that's his last name!?

And then Loverpants will do what he does every night which is to keep the light on for way too long reading articles in that magazine for lawyers--wait, what? Esquire is not just for lawyers?

(I was wondering why my psychotherapist lover was so interested in the litigious details of Franco person guy famous coverboy man.)

Anyway. Without further adieu.  I had SO MUCH FUN with my kids last night!! I woke up with a fierce hangover from the sheer fun of it all.  Loverpants had an all-night softball tournament (I know! He's so hard-core athletic, he's nocturnal!).

It was such a lovely and crisp Rocktober night.

My daughter then took a picture of me from a highly flattering angle in my Rocktober garb.

The kizzle and I mounted an outing to Good Dog where you can get any menu item in veggie form <3.

And afterward we hung with all the hoi polloi at Coolidge Park, fulfilling a lifelong dream of mine to see a balloon glow.  Ooooh!  Say it, balloon glow!  Doesn't it sound so psychadellic?

It was pretty amazing.  The colors, the lights, the people.

At first Baby Girl was two thumbs down on the chilly evening outing.  But then, the idea illumined her mind that all these people were gathered for a NIGHT PARTY! And then she was all banshee-dancey about it being a NIGHT PARTY! And she kept looking up at the moon and singing happy birthday to the moon and thanking that lunar globe for hosting the NIGHT PARTY!!!

Happy Rocktober, y'all.

Hamilton County Fair

Loverpants and I were driving home from the Hamilton County Fair yesterday and he asked me what I thought the main objective of the fair was. It was a question of great philosophical and economic weight. One that shouldn't just be given a cursory assessment. Was it the 4H club with the beaming kids bragging on their show ponies? Or was it the great big bagged puffs of pink and blue cotton candy, representing all the cushioned sweetness of childhood, pulled and consumed in random sticky finger increments? Was it all this or more than all of this? Well, not to be flip or anything but you know I think the real point of the county fair is this:

The price of that face is one ticket. Actually, two tickets when your 16 month-old won't get out of the bounce house. And even though the the volunteer says, "He's so cuuute! 'sall riight. Don' worry. He kin go ageeyenn." You still pony up that extra ticket. Times are tough for inflatables and all.

Then Baby Girl mounted the inflatable ladder and doggoneit if that wasn't ALSO the main point of the fair:

First Amendment rights, cordoned off in one particular area: Also the point of the county fair

Another chocolate dipped point the fair had to make:

Ferris wheels pit-stops for train sets. Some might argue they were the main point of the county fair:

I nearly launched a violent protest over this arts and crafts denim design receiving a paltry second place. Someone has to speak for the trolls.

Then this naughty billy goat got up on the haystack podium and sounded the voice of justice.

Bessie decided to be a conscientious objector.

That'll do, pig. That'll do.

31 Flavors

If you want to know the true condition of a woman's soul, just be a fly on the wall with her while she's trying on pants in the fitting room at TJMaxx. After rifling through rack after rack at the Maxx (never EVER the same place twice!), trying not to monopolize the Size 6P rack but also trying not to be steamrolled by other Maxxinistas, she has gained herself a Maxxive migraine and she is headed toward the dressing room. It strikes her as especially kind that the retail godesses have decided not to call it a fitting room. Fitting room implies that one is gauging whether things fit, rather than just getting dressed. Much kinder semantics.

But the reality is that, some pants are just not going to fit. Muffintop, anyone? Plenty to go 'round! And three dressing rooms over, some bombshell is gushing with her girlfriends (how many of them can FIT into one of these DRESSing rooms?), "That top is so cuuuuuuute!" and the woman by her lonesome is sighing to herself over the fact that the petites rack is eighteen million yards away and she is now looking at the full-length mirror under unmerciful lighting at her thighs that look like two unbaked loaves of bread smooshed into one baking tin GAH, this is a tiresome business!

However, so as not to be all cliched, the woman reminds herself that she is being that cliched woman in a dressing room and that she should just get over herself and drive to Ann Taylor Loft where there is a Pants Event!!!!! going on RIGHT NOW, and she knows that the modern fit is for her, so let's just put our birthday moneys toward some proper britches and put on our 'at and be 'appy!

*** I turned 31 yesterday (and apparently I turned British in the last sentence, please mind the gap in consciousness) and today I went shopping for work pants and I started to be that cliched woman in a dressing room but then I reminded self that I was 31! And 31 year-olds do not cop to a cliche! So I bought myself some gorge new slacks from ATayLoft and one day I will show them to you and you to them but for now, let me show and tell some of the lovely people that helped me celebrate 31 flavors.

My colleague Tara and her famdam

Brianna made these cupcakes to live for...

My colleague Keely and her crew. Love having friends/neighbors/churchies with wee kidlets, too.

Aliya and Brianna. These girls will restore your faith in the next generation.

There are people. In my house. In Tennessee. They are not frowning!

*** P.S. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE ASH CAMPAIGN. WE RAISED $178 TO FIGHT MALARIA. DOWN WITH MALARIA, UP WITH Y'ALL!