September 2011 | Kelley's Break Room

I was held up in a tea store. Practically.

They had tea flowers swaying back and
forth like this one in mugs in that tea store.
I just stared at them. A long time.

I will sample anything- food, drinks, perfume...

So, when I saw some people handing out samples of tea at the mall, I got all excited. Tea. How delightful! A quick little gulp of some flavored tea was just what I needed in the mall at that moment. In fact, as I passed all the stores I couldn't look inside due to having my kids with me, I thought, "You know, I'm REALLY in need of a teeny-tiny sip of tea. I sure wish someone was handing out really, really teeny-tiny sips of tea..."

And there they were handing out teeny-tiny sips of tea with charming smiles spread across their faces in front of their very hip & trendy store.

"Sure, I'll take a sip of your hot tea in a thimble. Thanks!"

Oh, it's never that easy.

I sip it. I like it. I ask the obligatory questions.

"So, what is this called again? Strawberry kiwi tea, huh? Sounds refreshing!"

Verrrrry enticing, isn't it? Don't
stare too long or that tea will
hypnotize you and take
all your money.
www.teavana.com

I like iced tea better. They must know there are lots of people like me because the free samples of the flavored iced tea are deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep inside the store (like, SIX steps from the entrance.)

"Do you have any iced tea made?"

"Yes! Would you like to come inside the store with me?"

"Sure, I'll walk behind you like a rat with a very, very low IQ that is trapped in a maze while gazing at your fancy tea pots, being impressed by your swimming flowers, looking in awe at your various mugs and try to remember where tea originated (India? China? England?) so I can appear sophisticated in case you give me a pop quiz and THEN I'll try your blueberry-strawberry tea. Mmmm!!! This is GOOD!"

Tea Lady goes on to tell me that that awesome blueberry-strawberry tea is actually a combination of two different types of tea. She pulls out her fancy, large, hat-shaped boxes of tea and shows me the two different kinds. The blueberry kind and the strawberry kind. The tea looks like potpourri. If you didn't want to drink it, you could display it in a glass jar or something. It was just beautiful! I wanted to scoop it up over and over in my hands while laughing hysterically over having found such a treasure!

"Oh, sure, I'll take both kinds of tea. It's tea after all! SIGN ME UP! How expensive can tea be? I'll take all I can hold! Gooooooooooooo TEA!!!! Tea! Tea! Tea!"

She gets two $7 small canisters out and fills them up separately. She tells me these canisters will keep my tea fresher longer and that I can refill them for less.

"Oh, no problem! I like fresh tea! Stale tea can take a hike, huh?? Fill those babies up! I can't wait to sit around and drink potpourri. This is AWESOME!"

"Okay, ma'am, that will be $85 for everything."

"Eighty-five dollars?! You're trying to rob me, aren't you? Where's your mask? The gun? You're really asking me to give you $85 for iced tea. Are you kidding me? For tea?! For real?"

"Yes, $85, but you get the two canisters that you can refill. Also, you'll need to buy our special tea brewer that will sit so nicely on top of our special mugs. So, $105."

"$105 for tea?!?!"

"Yes, ma'am, but our tea is very, very fresh. We use only the best. You can see there are actually dried blueberries in there and dried strawberries! You can see them yourself!"

"$105 for tea?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"105 for tea??"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Uh, yeah, my you just said I had to pay $85 or $105 for TEA. I can buy tea for $5 at the grocery store."

"Well, THAT tea isn't nearly as good and goes bad very quickly."

"What if I just take the blueberry tea?"

"Well, that won't be nearly as good. You won't get the blueberry-strawberry tea flavor that you sampled just a minute ago." (Shows me her real sour, disgusted face.)

"I don't care. Give me just the blueberry tea."

"Uhhhh, okay. Well, (click-clack-click-clack), that will be...$65."

"Sixty-five dollars for tea?!"

"Yes, ma'am, but remember our tea is fresh."

"I don't care about fresh. I'm not paying $65 for tea! How about half of that?"

"Alright. That'll be $45, but you'll also need the tea brewer and special mug."

"You can keep your special mug. I am not taking that mug. I'll find something that will work. Also? I don't need your special canister. I'm never going to refill that thing here."

I think I walked out of that fancy tea store with a small brown bag with exactly 3 dried blueberries, a handful of tea leaves and maybe a stray strawberry slice in it, and that dang tea brewer, for a grand total of 40ish dollars.

For tea.

(You would've paid the $85, right?)

"Having a baby doesn't hurt THAT bad."

When I was younger, I would get really anxious about two things. The first thing? Peeing on my husband. I'll admit it, I peed in the bed sometimes when I was growing up (all the way up until I was 36. Kidding.). At the age of 4, you would have been able to hear me praying and praying and praying that I would be finished with that wet mess by the time I was married. What would my husband think if a warm wet yellow river tried to engulf him during the night in attempt to carry him off to Pee-Pee Land? He'd divorce me on the spot! He'd be drenching in pee and insist on signing the wet divorce papers right then and there!

The other thing?

Having a baby.

This must be Teen Pregnancy C-section
Barbie. Is Ken the dad & the doctor?
www.oddee.com

I would have nightmares about having a baby. Every single thing that I experienced growing up would somehow be linked to, "Hey, would that level of pain be the same as having a baby?"

A bad stomachache.

Getting hit by a car.

Being mauled by a T-rex.

Swallowing a bag of glass.

Taking a nap on a campfire.

Enjoying a bowl of nails and staples soup.

Rolling off a roof into a pond of pitchforks.

Would these things feel the same as having a baby, in a pain scale sort of way?

My mother would always say, "Oh, sweetheart. It hurts while it's happening, but you just forget the pain" to which I would think something along the lines of...

HOGWASH!!

(I was hanging around my grandmother a lot then. That's probably where I got that...)

My mom used to watch soap operas and I would see those sweating, panting, screaming women having babies on that show every episode. Babies were popping out all over As the World Hospital, Guiding Turns, the Bold and the Restless. You know the ones.

That's why I got my epidural going in about the 3rd grade. I wasn't messing around with that "sometimes the epidural doesn't work mess". Hook me up with that epidural right now, School Nurse! You can wait just a dingdang minute, Ms. Stanfield! I gotta get this epidural going and THEN I'll work on my math facts!

It was really hard playing kickball and being in dance and trying to pull my weight in tug-of-war when I couldn't feel the lower half of my body.

I tell you what, sister. It was worth it.

In 2004, my oldest son wanted to make his debut. He weighed 8 pounds. For a good half of the labor, I was asleep. My water broke at 10:00 p.m. and I was asleep around 1:30ish, if not before. He was born at 9:00 the next morning. I DID feel the labor pains (that School Nurse from 1983 needs to learn to give better epidurals!!) and I DO remember them. I mean, the memory is a little fuzzy, but I DO remember that I wasn't liking them one bit.

Since I needed my sensation in my legs to keep up with my baby, I didn't get that second epidural started until just before my second son was born. He weighed 9 pounds, 4 ounces. It was bliss once it kicked in. Bliss, bliss, bliss.

I know a lot of you basically squeezed watermelons out of your earring hole without even wincing and all of that. I fully realize that. If you are one of those, just don't tell my husband.

He thinks having a baby can't really hurt "that bad".

What do you say, homies? Whether you have kids or not, whether you are a male or a female and whether you think epidurals were crafted by demons or angels, I want to hear your perspective. What would you tell my husband if he said,

"Having a baby can't hurt THAT bad. I mean, I know it hurts, but you know the pain isn't going to last forever. Isn't it something you just endure and then it's over?"

Why can't I get myself together??

Some of you may have already read this post. It was featured on Studio 30 Plus on Friday. They asked that I wait a day before posting it to my site, so...here it is! Instead of focusing on a new post here, I wanted to read YOUR stuff. I hope you all had a good weekend!

I am notorious for losing things. I always have been. When I was younger, my mom would follow me around the house as I searched for something while saying, "Why can't you get yourself together??" I heard it all the time. If I were a rapper, I'd be the Notorious G. I. T. (Girl In Trouble With Someone Because She Lost Something Again). I know my acronym didn't match up, but only the first three letters rhymed with B. I. G. I never miss a chance to make a reference to a famous rapper. Are you following me here?

Let's move on.

A couple of weeks ago, I finished reading "Sarah's Key" by Tatiana de Rosnay. The book was very moving. Very sad. It was definitely a good read. The book was turned into a movie and was showing at only two locations in my very large city in Texas. When I had last checked, one of the locations was near our house and the other one was across town about 40 miles away. My husband just about considers "40 miles away" to be a suburb in Indonesia.

My plan was to see this movie with my mother-in-law on the weekend, but when I checked the listings again, it was only at one location. In Indonesia. Dagnabbit. She was game when the movie was closer, but now... Nope, she was out.

Sooooo, the wheels started turning in my head. A date! I could convince my husband to take me on a date to see it!

"Where is this movie again?"

"Oh, you won't know any of the actors' names. Some French people."

"No, WHERE is this movie again?"

"Oh! It's set in Paris! Don't you just love Paris??"

"No, Kelley, where do we have to drive to see the movie?"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It's near Greenway Plaza."

"Greenway Plaza?! That is 40 miles from here. You want to go alllllllllllllllllllll the way down to that side of town to see this movie? Just wait for it to come out on DVD. You don't rush to see movies like this in the theater. Blockbusters, yes, but not this one. Blockbusters are like "Braveheart" and "Saving Private Ryan", not 'Sarah's Key'. Give your car a break, Kelley. It's begging for mercy!"

"Pleeeeeeeeeeease??? I really want to see it! Don't you care about spending time with your wife at all?"

"Don't give me that."

"'Well?"

"I do have a gift card for a Regal Cinema theater. Is that theater a Regal Cinema? If it is, we can go, I guess. What is this movie about again?"

"sfjawpsadkaidgaslktj. Okay! I'll check on Regal Cinema."

(Husband fervently prays that this theater is NOT a Regal Cinema.)

"YAY!!! It's a Regal Cinema!! We can go see the movie now. Yay!!!! We can eat before and then go see it. I'm so excited!"

He just looks at me. He eventually gets ready and we leave. On the way, I thought I'd show him how proficient I was with technology and tried to buy our tickets with my Fandango app on my iPhone. For some reason, the code didn't work. It was decided I would go and purchase the tickets inside.

We were running late, but arrived faster than I thought we would. The next thing I knew, I've been catapulted from the car and urged to buy the tickets inside with the gift card. Having that gift card was the main reason I was able to convince my husband to see the movie in the first place. I secretly thanked the gift card for making this date possible. Such a sweet one, that gift card.

I arrived in line to buy the tickets.

I couldn't find the gift card.

And as I inch closer and closer and closer and closer and CLOSER to the ticket man, I'm not having any luck.

WHERE IS IT?!?! While inching closer and closer and closer, I checked my pockets 800 times AT LEAST. I ransacked my purse like a front door man checking for smuggled goods at a concert. As I am checking for that dingdang gift card in the armpit of the person in front of me, it suddenly becomes my turn.

(Thankfully, during my unfruitful searches for the gift card, I DID find my debit card that had been missing for a over a week in a crazy pocket of my wallet. Get over here, you little debit card. No more hiding like that! You scared mommy!)

As the ticket man stares impatiently at me, I sigh heavily, fork over my life savings and my first born for two movie tickets, thank God I had cash and prayed that my husband wouldn't ask if the movie people accepted the gift card.

He showed up finally, got his ticket, asked me what the movie was about AGAIN and then we headed into the dark theater to watch it.

Sweet relief! He didn't ask me if they accepted the gift card before the movie started! He won't ever know that I lost the gift card! He won't give me that look that says, "Why can't you keep up with anything?!" I got away with it!!!!

"Did they accept the gift card?", he asked me as we walked out of the movie.

Why?? Why does he remember to ask about everything?? Why can't I get away with losing something just once?

(FYI, we found the gift card about a week later stuck in a weird spot under the passenger seat. Of course.)

I am a real loser

Today I am the featured writer over at Studio 30 Plus, a community for writers/bloggers that are... Hey, I'm not going to make it that easy. What age do you think? You think I'm just going to give you all of the answers? How would you learn to think on your own if I just hand the answers out? Hmmm?

30+.

Use your context clues next time, 'mmmkay?

Anyway, I'm over there talking about a recent date I went on with my husband where I lost something important. I hope you will provide some moral support for me. I got in trouble! I need a hug!

Also, quick Juice in the City update for anyone living in the North/Northwest Houston areas, there is a deal today for $10 for 3 passes for the open jump times at Pump It Up in Cy-Fair. If your children are anything like mine, they'll jump like Wile E. Coyote full of Red Bull for about 30 minutes and then say they're ready to go. I always make those suckers go back and jump some more. I didn't drive all the way out to Pump It Up to get back in the car 5 minutes later. No sir! That's why I love this deal. It makes it a little easier to not set up camp in the corner of the gigantic inflatable-filled room so that you get maximum play time for the money. Go HERE if you want it!

Click for a free ride to Studio 30+.

Would you live in a cemetery?

After eating out and seeing a movie last weekend (there's a story there for another time!), my husband and I began driving around the outskirts of downtown Houston looking at various places. Recognizing that we were near the old Jefferson Davis Hospital, I asked him to drive by it again. When our oldest son was 2-years-old in 2007, we accidentally came upon the old hospital and looked around the inside of it. It was abandoned, but there was security guard on the property. Although we were not previously aware, people had been flocking to this hospital for a very long time due to claims that it was haunted. I don't want to entertain any of those stories here, but the place IS interesting. Really, any old building with a historical marker on the outside of it is interesting to me. It drives my husband crazy, but he always stops so I can read them.

This is what it looked like when we found it in 2007.

In 1840, just 4 years after Texas won its independence from Mexico and Houston was founded by the Allen brothers, 5 acres of land was bought on what is now known as Elder Street by the City of Houston along a couple of bayous that run near what is now downtown Houston. A cemetery was opened and contained 4 sections for the poor, slaves (as slavery would not become outlawed until 1863), Confederate soldiers and people that died from suicide or in a duel. In a duel. Isn't that interesting? You dueled? You will be buried HERE! It is estimated that approximately 10,000 graves are within those 5 acres.

Queen Victoria in 1841.
www.facebook.com/1840s-in-fashion

The cemetery operated until the 1880s. Today, there are only about 3 visible areas that you can tell were burial plots. There are no original markings on them at all. In 2007, a marker was made to honor a grave that had been discovered containing soldiers' remains.

http://www.civilwaralbum.com/

From 1840 to 1880, there were many, many grand homes built in downtown Houston. I saw many of them in a book I have about Houston history. I wanted to take pictures of the pictures to put into this post, but then I was afraid I'd get thrown into the clanker with stale bread and mouse-nibbled cheese for the next 50 years of my life. So, I thought I'd just let you know that most of those beautiful homes were razed to make way for an emerging downtown, which makes me sad, of course. Those homes were majestic! How could they just be demolished? I know the answers, but I still hate that those houses were just punched right in the face.

The oldest occupied house is the Waldo Mansion, which was built in 1885 at Caroline & Rusk. It was moved in 1905 where it sits now in the Westmoreland District, which for you Houstonians is near Montrose and 59.

Waldo mansion, 1885
http://www.westmorelandpreservationalliance.org/

Here is a picture I took of another home in the Westmoreland District, which may have looked like some homes that were hit in the gut with a wrecking ball in downtown Houston. Obviously, this house would cost a lot to repair. Someone with lots of money, please restore this home before it gets knocked down and then invite me over and give me a tour and possibly give me the whole house for free.

So, you get the idea of what Houston looked like in some parts in 1880. During that year, operations shut down at that location as the official city cemetery and moved over to Allen Parkway. From 1880 to 1924, the cemetery containing 10,000 gravesites on Elder Street became neglected and overgrown.

That's when Jefferson Davis Hospital was built ON TOP OF THAT same neglected, overgrown CEMETERY and named after the THOUSANDS of people buried underneath, some that were Confederate soliders. The hospital only operated at that location for 13 years and then moved to an updated facility nearby.

Jefferson Davis Hospital, circa 1920s.
http://www.hauntedhovel.com/

From 1936 to 2007, this place was abandoned! It just sat there getting dustier and dustier and and dustier and dustier and dustier and dustier, until artists moved into this building renamed "Elder Street Lofts". People LIVE there now. They live in a place that used to be a cemetery and a hospital. Perhaps this is common in other parts of the country and world? I have been out of the country, with the exception of Mexico, once and that was to Paris where the Catacombs are located. Underground are thousands of bones of the deceased while the vibrant life of Paris goes on above. Maybe building on top of cemeteries can't be avoided at some point?

"We don't like thinking about dying and we don't like being dead and so we don't like taking care of cemeteries," says Mark Denton, an archaeologist with the Texas Historical Commission. "Our society has this out-of-sight, out-of-mind philosophy about the dead, and it's reflected in how many cities have built over and turned former cemeteries into something completely other than a cemetery." (from http://www.houstonpress.org/)

Do you think buildings should be placed knowingly on top of graves? Do you know of other places with similar stories? Would you live in this place?

Mr. Clean & I are getting engaged today!!

If there is one thing I'm obsessed with, it's your smile. Also, your jokes. Your funny, funny jokes. And really everything about you. After that?

Mr. Clean.

I love the man and I love his Magic Erasers. Because of this obsession, I'm over at This Blogger Makes Fun of Stuff asking him to marry me right now. Think of that blog post like a jumbotron at a baseball game. There is me on the left side of the screen on one knee and to my left is this man:

The love of my life, Mr. Clean.
www.bnet.com

So, please, join us in this happy moment in our lives as we go forward as husband & wife (fingers crossed!) by clicking HERE. Also? Keep the whole engagement on the down low. My current husband would be crushed. Maybe.

Dr. Brown, Dr. Brown, What Do You See? (NOT by Eric Carle)

There is a huge scandal in Houston, my friends. It has to do with a hand surgeon named Dr. Michael Brown and a recent allegation that he assaulted his FOURTH wife, Rachel Brown (who was previously accused of having an affair with ex-Astros player, Jeff Bagwell), in front of their kids. Those same kids are featured in his most recent commercial for The Brown Hand Center. After he says, "...and The Brown Hand Center will care for you just as I care for my own family", the daughter on his lap says, "Daddy's baby girl!" Since Dr. Brown seems to love children so much, I didn't think he would mind if I wrote a children's book about his story as I understand it. Hopefully, by the time this book reaches Barnes & Noble (let me dream!), he WILL be in jail!

Dr. Brown, Dr. Brown, What Do You see?

not by Eric Carle

Dr. Brown, Dr. Brown, what do you see?

I see a jail cell looking at me!
www.chron.com

Jail cell, jail cell, what do you see?

I see domestic violence committed by a famous hand surgeon looking at me!
www.mylot.com

Domestic violence, domestic violence, what do you see?

I see the fourth wife accusing Dr. Brown of throwing a HUMANITARIAN AWARD at her and twisting her arm behind her back as if to break it while she screamed out in pain, all while in front of the children, looking at me! *not the actual award* http://www.baseballreliquary.org/images/cobb.jpg

Fourth wife, fourth wife, what do you see?

I see Dr. Brown, who stopped practicing in 2006 because of a cocaine charge and also beat his pregnant 3rd wife with a bedpost in 2002, still in the jail cell looking at me! www.houston.culturemap.com

Dr. Brown, Dr. Brown, what do you see?

I see my 4th wife asking me for $100,000 a month to pay for various expenses, which may include paying the bodyguard, butler, three maids, two nannies, the gardener and $25,000 a month for spousal support looking at me!

Fourth wife, fourth wife, what do you see?

A man walking in front of me while I was in the courtroom who deserved to be punished, a humiliated family, unfortunate children that were thrust into the spotlight for the sake of his business, many hurting people and a sad situation looking at me! www.chron.com

~THE END~

Although there is an element of humor in this post, domestic violence is NOT funny. This is a terrible and very sad situation. For more information about domestic violence, I refer you to a fellow blogger's site, My Inner Chick, who lost her very dear sister, Kay, to domestic violence last year.

Today, We Salute You: Ms. Lady-Who-Advertises-Outside-All-Day-By-Holding-A-Store-Sign!!

www.mlive.com

Oh, how this picture brings me joy. I love it with my heart and soul. This sweet lady deserves to be added to the list of ladies we have saluted in the Break Room in the past (click HERE), as she salutes the cars that pass her. Will you join me?

*Sing to the tune of the Real Men of Genius commercials from B-dwesier...*

KELLEY'S BREAK ROOM presents…

REAL WOMEN OF GENIUS

(Overly Dramatic 80's Background Singer Guy: Reeeeeeallllllll Women of Geniuuu-uuuus!!!)

Today we salute YOU, Ms. Lady-Who-Advertises-Outside-All-Day-By-Holding-A-Store-Sign!

("Ms. Lady-Who-Advertises-Outside-All-Day-By-Holding-A-Store-Sign!!!")

It's 7:00 in the morning and you've got to get dressed FAST. The store is waiting on you to grab their gigantic advertisement and get out on that street curb ASAP. So, as fast as you can, you slide on your Statue of Liberty costume or polo with the store logo or large coffee cup outfit and dash out the front door.

(Big-big-big-sign, mama's-comin!)

As you screech to a halt in front of the store, you can see Ned fuming from behind the glass wall. You are 3 minutes late and those 3 minutes could have meant EVERYTHING. THE customer could have driven right by moments ago...but you missed him. Feeling as sorry as dirt underneath a very large pig's rear end, you rush out of your car, run to the door, grab the sign from cranky Ned and are in the grassy median inhaling exhaust fumes in seconds. There's a reason Ned hired you and this makes you smile. You're ready to make Ned proud.

(Does Ned notice I'm jumping up and down like I'm on fiiiii-hhhhhhiiii-iiiiiiiire?!?!?)

Slowly, cars begin making their way into the parking lot, though 80% of them are going to the Starbucks nextdoor. While you are wondering if you can get a cut of their profits for bringing in some business, you keep smiling widely, never stop jumping and continue to wave the sign that is as big as a ten story building with all the strength that your arms can muster, all while casting menacing glances at the guy across the street with his earphones on halfheartedly trying to get people to sell their gold.

(Nobody-messes-with-this-lady's-territory.)

So, keep standing out there in the unbearable heat or cold all year-round for the well-being of that store and know that YOUR commitment to marketing is the REAL reason we go inside your store at all. (We'll tell Ned.)

Ms. Lady-Who-Advertises-Outside-All-Day-By-Holding-A-Store-Siiiiiignnnnnnn!!!!!!!

We're not saluting the men here. I just wanted to point out that
even celebrities aren't too good to advertise on street corners in crazy costumes!
www.about.com

___________________________________________________________________________________
Today's JUICE IN THE CITY Deal
Houston Area (North/Northwest)

Speaking of food & music, today's Juice In the City deal is for $30 worth of food for only $15 at Mia Bella Trattoria in Vintage Park at Louetta & 249. The last time I was there, a man was outside singing Lionel Richie tunes. Who doesn't love Lionel Richie and really good Italian food?? If you're interested, go HERE!

Swing low, sweet chariot, and pick me up!

This weekend at the library I flipped through the book "All God Chillun", which contains many spirituals that the slaves sang. When I looked it up on Amazon for the author's name, I couldn't even find the book. It's an old one. As I sifted through the pages mesmerized by the stories, songs and pain held within them, I came across "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" and the memories of all the times I caused pain to the ears of innocent bystanders with my singing voice came flooding back to me.

Though I'm not for sure, I think we had to choose between choir and band for a period of the school day in middle school. My friend, Mari, and I chose choir. Mari could sing. I could not. Still, I was forced to be in the class essentially. As time passed and my awful screeching was muted by the voices beside me, I began to think maybe I was absolutely wrong. I could sing! After all, Ms. Fuller said I was a soprano. If she classified me in a singing category of some sort, didn't this mean I could sing? Wouldn't she have stuck me in the broom and mop closet during class while everyone else sang "Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling..." if I absolutely was a hopeless cause?

Me with Mari in middle school, circa 1987ish. Like the bangs?
What about my necklace that isn't pointing down right?
And that silky shirt? How about the shoulder pads?

Mari and me this summer.

So, I sang. And sang. And got in trouble (Mari's fault!). And sang. (Mari would sometimes convince me that it was a good idea for us to sneak off of of the risers and crawl across the room from side to the other before Ms. Fuller noticed we were gone. She usually noticed we were gone and would sing out "Minus 5!!!!!". She was subtracting points off of something, but we were never sure what.)

When the opportunity came to participate in the solo portion of the Solo & Ensemble UIL Competition, you know I snatched that baby up!

I chose to sing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot".

I was awful. Awful, awful, awful. I guess I thought that if I sang the best that I could in front of those unknown judges in a quiet room with no peers, they'd give me a pin or medal or something. A pin or a medal or something is worth everything! I could pin it on my bulletin board in my room or toss it around the neck of my teddy bear! This was going to be AWESOME!

One afternoon, my confidence came crashing down. Ms. Fuller thought it would be a good idea to have those singing solos in the UIL Competition TO SING OUR SOLO IN FRONT OF OUR PEERS IN OUR CHOIR CLASS.

I wanted to die. Right there. I was begging that sweet chariot to swing low and come pick ME up! I wanted to fall backwards into a coffin and be rolled out of the choir room to a place far, far away. The city dump. Nestled inside a large man's sweaty armpit. In a lion's mouth. Anywhere would have been better.

Maybe Ms. Fuller could see I was searching for body bags in the choir room, because she offered those of us singing solos the opportunity TO SING BEHIND A DIVIDER in front of all of our peers. She thought it would be helpful to my confidence and self-esteem if, while I sang like an old, sick horse being tossed out of an airplane from hundreds of miles off the ground, I was singing behind a shield.

www.posters.ws.com

It didn't help. As I sang this beautiful spiritual into one side of the divider like Alfalfa would have if he had had the flu and also would have just stepped on glass without any shoes on, I could hear giggles from the other side. It was terrible.

(Now everyone in that room was praying for the sweet chariot to pick them up to take them away from the dying pterodactyl they thought was behind the divider.)

Even more terrible?

I never learned.

During the following summer of 1987, I went to Dollywood with my family and sang "The Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston with my sister in a karaoke booth. I still have that tape. Horrid. Absolutely dreadful.

Another example?

In 2009, I sang for the American Idol judge at Disney World. Before you have my neck shot with a tranquilizer dart, know that I was only doing it for my son's sake. We took him to Disney World for his 5th birthday. He saw the American Idol attraction at Hollywood Studios. He was in love with the show and wanted to see what it looked like inside. We missed the shows for the day, so the only way to look around it was to audition, but my son was too young to do it. Although my husband probably contemplated leaving me for a toothless 90-year-old at this point, he didn't let on about the plans in his head as he watched us enter the American Idol studio giggling. He just laughed and encouraged us to go. Before I belted out "Zippity Doo Dah", I told the unfortunate judge I was only singing so that my son could see the studio. She smiled (and maybe winced), but my son smiled wider.

Maybe the humiliation behind the divider back in middle school gave me the courage to not care as much anymore about what people think. I'm thankful God didn't answer my prayer by sending that sweet chariot to pick me up back in 1987.

I would have missed my son's smile.

Old Textbooks Make Great Pillows!!

TEXTBOOKS.

Remember those?

All of us have had a textbook in our hands, with the exception of those of you who quit school around Kindergarten or the First Grade to try to make it on your own. Nothing saddens me more than to see a whole bunch of 5-year-olds hitchhiking, standing outside the Unemployment Office, smoking like chimneys or driving crazy down the street with the music turned way up loud. Maybe if they had just been exposed to textbooks...

The piano played was exactly
like this except it was lime green.
www.austinbazaar.com

Obviously, taxpayers dish out the cash for the textbooks we all use in the public school system. Once college hits, BAM!!! We have to start shelling it out. During my first two years of college, I didn't have to pay for textbooks because I had a dance scholarship at a small school. Once I transferred to The University of Texas at Austin, and then to graduate school after that, I had to start robbing banks to make ends meet. I also sang Billy Joel songs while playing a very, very, very, very, very, very small piano for tips on Austin street corners to pay for my textbook bills. (I made $3.25 total.)

When Campus Book Rentals contacted me about showcasing their company here, I thought it was a great idea! If I could have RENTED books, instead of buying all of them, I wouldn't have tons of them in my house right now. I kept many of my career-related books (speech-language pathologist), but hardly look at them ever. Because I paid so much for them, I try to use them in my every day life now. I don't want to feel like I spent all of that money for NOTHING!

Instead of just stacking my old textbooks in the garage, I use them for...

Placemats!! When my family spills anything on them, I just
wipe them off! Also? If there is a lull in a conversation, just flip open
a book and learn about the larynx or something. Exciting stuff!

Pans for baking! Don't listen to people that say
paper will burn in fire. There's no fire here! Just really, really
intense heat that will melt the paint off of the textbook cover. Big deal!

Pillows! I haven't bought a feather- or cotton-filled pillow
since I graduated in 1997. THIS is luxury, people. If you think
Princess Kate has a more comfortable pillow than we do, then you
are only fooling yourself. Wake up!

Stepstools!! Those legs look like they belong to a 295 pound logger from the Northwest, but they actually belong to my 3-year-old boy. When he
wants to reach anything, all he has to do is carry the 3-ton set of books
wherever he needs them. How do you think he got those legs?

(The towel says: "I didn't realize when I said 'I Do', I'd do
everything!" My mother-in-law bought it for me!)

Kindling!! It's just been too dang hot to light the fireplace lately,
but, when it's time, our fire will be so awesome, hot and huge, the
firemen will come over and see what's going on over here. When they
see it's just my fireplace, we'll have a good laugh and I'll offer them
a glass of milk or something.

If these options for your leftover textbooks aren't really your thing, and you'd rather just rent your textbooks, obviously Campus Book Rentals is the place for you! In addition to THAT great idea, they also are partnering with Operation Smile to help families with children born with a cleft palate and cannot afford the surgery to repair it. As a speech pathologist, I have worked with many children with a cleft palate and know how important that surgery is to their well-being. What a smart company- fighting expensive books and cleft palate surgery bills all at once!

**This was a sponsored post, but the opinions are all mine!**

Cooking Gone Wrong: Funny Stories From The Kitchen

Once a week, I feature a deal with the company Juice In The City, a daily deals site sourced by moms. Today's deal is a cooking class at Young Chefs Academy, but these particular classes are for adults. There are three classes to choose from: Knife Skills on 9/12 from 6:30-8:30pm, Spices on 10/3 from 6:30-8:30pm, and Bake Sale Show Off on 11/7 from 6:30-8:30pm. One class is typically $50 but, with this deal, it is $25. Young Chefs Academy is located in Katy, Texas. If you are interested in getting this deal, go HERE.

Thinking about this fun deal got me thinking about cooking in general. I really do like to cook and often make "real" food for my family, though some of my neighbors (Hi, Angie!) may think I just feed my kids Ramen noodles. With the exception of recently mistaking salt being poured on the floor from an upside down salt shaker in my hand as sand, I haven't had any RECENT kitchen craziness. There have been plenty in my past, though! I remember being 12ish and making pasta salad for my dad. I accidentally put a tablespoon of salt in it instead of a teaspoon and my dad literally spit it out. He made an awful face while he was doing it, too. He actually recalled that incident immdediately when I told him about this post.

Knowing that I couldn't be the ONLY person who has made some big mistakes in the kitchen and could use a cooking class like the one described above, I went to Facebook, both to my personal page and this blog's Facebook page, and asked for others to share. I have paraphrased some and changed them up a bit here and there, but I didn't alter the content. Why would I do that?  These are awesome!

PAULA made Rice Krispie Treats but forgot to butter her hands before she mixed them up (I didn't know you were supposed to do that!). She was so glad no one was home to watch her try to get all of that mess of her hands!

BRYAN made macaroni & cheese and accidentally grabbed buttermilk instead of real milk.  When his daughter tried to tell him it was nasty, he told her to eat it anyway. She finally made him taste it and he nearly gagged! Then? They went to McDonald's for a Happy Meal. So funny! I'm wondering how long she had to convince you to try it. So glad you did

TANYA was making white rice, but used only ONE tablespoon of rice when she was supposed to use one teaspoon of salt!  I bet everyone was really hungry after that meal! She said, "That's why I do carryout/order in when it's my turn to 'cook'. I'm GREAT at a lot of things, unfortunately (for my husband) cooking is not one of them." Tanya, I bet you are much better than you are letting on. Come on! You are, aren't you?

ANN was making okra when she was about 12 years old. Her mother was working the store and sent Ann to the house to wash the okra, cut it up, add cornmeal and then fry it. In that order. Ann cut it up and then washed it. Ann asked, "Do you know what happens to okra after it is cup and then washed??" She said it was not a pretty picture. She tried to fix the problem by adding more cornmeal...and more cornmeal...and more cornmeal. Apparently, Ann was trying to bread the okra in a tin tub suitable for bathing (a small child, I'm assuming?) when her mother came in, threw it out and Ann started over. She said she learned her lesson, which probably means Ann can cook!

ALEX and his wife, Rachel, had some friends over to eat and then went to town to Fry Baby, where Twinkies, Snickers, Oreos and basically anything sweet that can be fried was fried. The first batch, unfortunately, tasted like vomit!! The people had forgotten to change the oil after they made buffalo wings!! EW! Really, Alex? Like vomit? Now I'm sick!

LAURA made cookies and, instead of flour, she used powdered sugar. The cookies were so sweet they went into the trash. I'm impressed they still came out looking like a cookie!

REBECCA cooked pancakes once, set them on fire. Smoked up the entire house. It's a two-story house. Then in college, I messed up Ramen. I cooked it too long and the water evaporated. Then there was the time with the slice and bake cookies... You sound like me!

TRACY said her "mother-in-law put together a family cookbook of her recipes. Unfortunately, there were some serious typos, and I was learning to cook with this book. So, I made a crab au gratin with 16 teaspoons of black pepper in stead of 1/6. I just thought it was supposed to be super spicy." Hahahahahaha!!! Oh, this one is awesome.

JULIE said "I'm always fussing at my husband for burning his yucky frozen pizzas in the oven. So one night I popped in a homemade pizza, got distracted by Twitter, and was jarred back to reality by the smoke alarm. Whoops." Twitter is distracting? No way! :)

TERESA's friend, Holly, "was making her kids a special treat...homemade hot chocolate! When she called her kids in from playing outside on a chilly winter's day, they sat down to their yummy treat...only to spit it out in disgust! Upon further review Holly realized she added cumin instead of cinnamon to her recipe! Yuck!" That is so funny! It's kind of like a chili/hot chocolate combo.

TRICIA was watching her husband cook one night. He was "making a casserole (from a box) and after he put it in the oven, he started doing the dishes. Well, he couldn't find the fork he'd used ... until we were serving the casserole an hour later and found it in the bottom of the dish. Classic!" (Let's hope he isn't a surgeon!! Ha!)

JUNE says "there is apparently a huge difference between baking soda and baking powder. Learned the hard way." Tell us more! Tell us more!

AMY used artichoke juice instead of cream of mushroom in a casserole when she first got married to her husband, Micah. The whole apartment stunk and the meal was gross!!! Micah didn't even eat it to be nice!!! (This is cracking me up!!! I can SO see Micah not eating it and can imagine the face he was giving you. It reminds me of someone else I know!)

JEN says she messes up every meal she makes. (I don't believe it, Jen!)

KIMBERLY's ex-husband tried to make cookies once but mistook powdered sugar for flour (like Laura up there!!). There was a burned nasty mess in the oven. He kept adding MORE "flour" trying to fix it. Blech! (I hate oven messes!)

LG "mistakenly used gun powder instead of baking powder in a loaf of bread and it blew my aunt's dentures into the next room. Not really, but I don't cook and felt left out so I had to come up with something crazy to be part of the Breakroom crowd. I love the Breakroom!" This guy cracks me up DAILY! Ha!

PAM's son "burnt spaghetti this summer. It was brown. I told him it was yummy. Trying to encourage him to cook for himself in his first apartment." (Awww!! That was sweet of you!)

CHRISTINE didn't even get to start on the actual meal because her kitchen experience went downhill while heating the oil in the pan.  Although she knew not to pour water into a heated pan with oil in it, she was distracted by a phone call, a man ringing the doorbell and her own thoughts (she was trying to think of an actor's name who had starred in a film she watched the night before <----sounds like me!). Then, there was smoke! She had forgotten to take the plastic dish out of the pan and it had shrunk to half it's size. "To up the ante, you guessed it right, I did pour some water in the pan." Ahhh!!! (She said it hurt a little bit.) I'm glad there was no awful fire!

APRIL was once a carhop at Sonic. "I was working the late shift one night during my first week. Someone came in and ordered a banana split. I carefully assembled it, remembering all the different toppings, just like my supervisor had showed me earlier in the week. I even piled the whipped cream on extra high because I was so proud of myself for making this banana split all by myself. I delivered the order and returned back inside. Not a minute later, the guy buzzed in and asked, "Umm...aren't banana splits supposed to have ice cream?" *facepalm* Hahahaha!

Do you have a favorite story from this list or one of your own to share?

Labor Day Special: PREZ Candy Dispensers

I have some exciting news to share with all of you: I am now a candy maker. Can you believe it? After buying my sons countless Pez Candy Dispensers adorned with the heads of Thomas, Anakin, Phineas, Donald Duck and others, I thought of a new line of products.

PREZ Candy Dispensers.

Now, I am fully prepared to be sued over this one. I have $50 in my Savings Account set aside to fight the legal battle. To me, it is worth it. So, on this Labor Day weekend, I want to introduce these amazing little candy machines and start taking orders.

PREZ Grover Cloveland will, of course, be the first President to receive a candy dispenser in his honor as Labor Day was all his idea. According to Wikipedia, THE on-line source for all truth and knowledge, "The first big Labor Day in the United States was observed on September 5, 1882, by the Central Labor Union of New York. It became a federal holiday in 1894, when, following the deaths of a number of workers at the hands of the U.S. military and U.S. Marshals during the Pullman Strike, President Grover Cleveland reconciled with the labor movement."

So, please, take a minute to decide which one you'll buy first:

PREZ Grover will come with an assortment of candy colors, including white, black, tan and yellow, as the Labor Movement represented all colors of the human race.

PREZ Obama will come with green candies to represent all the money he spends, of course.

PREZ Nixon will come with silver candies to represent his jail cell due to the unfortunate Watergate incident. His candy dispenser will also double as a very small water gun for an extra reminder.

PREZ Lincoln will come equipped with an assortment of light, medium and dark brown candies to represent all of the slaves he helped to free after the Civil War.

PREZ Taft was the largest President ever, so he will come equipped with 20 packs of candies (the others only come with 1).

PREZ Reagan's candies will all be red to represent his fight against Communism and the Cold War.

PREZ Washington will come equipped with only cherry flavored candies to represent that cherry tree he claimed to have not chopped down. We'll never know for sure!

PREZ Carter will come with candies because this very, very, very, very peaceful man would have given all of his away. (Alternate: white candies to represent his teeth.)

Listen, folks, I could go on. And on and on and on. It's what I do. I keep going on with an idea until you are ready to knock me over the head with a frying pan. (My next idea? PREZ Ford, but his candy dispenser would have been broken because he was a clumsy president who was always tripping or something.) These are the first PREZ Candy Dispensers that will be hitting the stores this Labor Day Weekend. Please buy as many as possible before Pez arrests me and I have to stop production!!!

HAPPY LABOR DAY WEEKEND!