Growing Up Sucks...and How to Make Your Very Own Street Walker Barbie!

You know what I hate?

That I had to grow up.

Not that I necessarily grew “up”…because I am glad that my height advanced beyond the 2 foot I was when I initially popped out. I am just sad that I had to stop being a kid. I was looking at the Wish Book today at toys with my mom…I told her that I missed playing with Barbie Dolls. In fact, I think I would still play with them if it were socially accepted.

I loved those things! I loved the tiny little shoes for her freakish tippy toe feet, the fabulous street walker clothing, the lack of genitalia, Ken’s plastic hair, and all the kick ass home furnishings and appliances. I absolutely loved that girl!!! Me and my sister would play with them and I would always have to be Skipper. She had the smaller boobs. I wasn’t worth of Barbie and her plastic double D’s. Me and my sister also loved to, um, style Barbie’s hair. In a nutshell, we liked to give Barbie a bowl-cut. If you aren’t familiar with the fabulous hair style of the late 80’s and the early 90’s, let me lay it down for you. This hair style consisted of a short bob of sorts that made it appear like you had a bowl lying on your head while the stylist (your mother in your bathroom) cut the hair. So here comes Barbie, looking fab with her bowl-cut hair, at home painted nails (we also liked to give her manicures with our thick and sticky old Wet-n-Wild nail polish), hooker looking tube dress made out of one of my old ruffled socks (seriously, children’s socks made the best tube dresses), crazy hot pink tennis shoes that are still heeled for some reason, one leg that won’t actually straighten out anymore, and I wonder to myself…when will I have kids so I can play with these bitches again!?!?!

My luck, my kid wouldn’t let me play because I kept messing up her Barbie’s.

On a funny note, after reading all of this…I can now see in every way…how Barbie helped me pick my profession. Barbie Bowl-Cuts, Tube Sock Hooker Dresses, and the all pink dream house kitchen totally equals up to Home Ec Teacher.

Crocs, Broke Down Scooters, Lazy Fast Food Workers, and why the reports always talk to the toothless crack-head

Today, I am all about the randomness. I feel this is partly due to the fact that my life gets to happen in random spurts in between being forced to work for a living and having to be in class listening to some old boring professor talk about what “research” means for 5 class periods. Seriously.

Let me break down some of the things that have happened to me lately, I have come to realize, or that have really been floating around in my head like a bird, all jacked up on Red Bull (bashing into the side and all that).

Men, over the age of…lets say 10, should never leave the house in red rubber shoes. I mean Crocs just aren’t the manliest shoes I have ever seen. Let me say it this way, if a dude in a bar tried to push up on me while wearing rubber shoes with smiling green gators on the side (in my dream said guy also has lots of those colorful “Jibits” all over them) I would have to politely laugh in his face. I bring up this fact because I went to the store the other day, looking a bit of a hot mess. It was just the grocery store close to my house so I wasn’t that worried about it. Well I pass this man in the parking lot and he gives me the up and down and gives me a disgusted face. MIND YOU he was wearing a little too short navy shorts, a beat up polo, black socks pulled all the way up on his calves and BRIGHT RED CROCS! I wanted to be like “You need to go take a look-see in the mirror before you judge my gauchos. At least I am not spit, mud, blood, urine, feces, and water proof and able to be worn by toddlers of all ages”.

If someone steals your inflatable lawn decoration, it is not cause for you to be the leading story on the evening news. It’s just not. The best part, when interviewed, the “victim” said this, “I can’t believe someone would do something so evil. That decoration is all I have to remember my dead aunt by!” Yeah, no.

McDonalds, Arbys, all you other fast food joints, the JIG IS UP! We know your ice cream machine isn’t broken! We know it is just that it is 10 PM and you don’t feel like making my McFlurry and having to re-clean the machine. Don’t try that crap on me! Just say it like it is “Um, ice cream? Well Miss, I am simply too lazy to have any gumption to get up and fix your delicious, overpriced, barley even mixed, more or less sprinkled on top M&M dessert. So, in a sense, my ambition is broken, not so much the machine.” Lucky for the McDonalds people, I drove off too fast for Mr. Big to completely get out of the car to kill the drive though worker. He gets serious about his M&M McFlurry.

If you ride a scooter, you probably don’t need bling. I’m just saying. If you have to ride a little scooter, covered in mud, dented and scratched up purple paint (looking like you crashed it into a rhino’s ass) there are probably a lot better things for you to spend your money on. You might not need the 30 inch gold chain with the pendant that spins and glistens in the sun.

And a little Cherries Rock My Socks on etsy update, I will be selling at the Asheboro, NC fall festival this year! First weekend in October! Come out and support the local arts and better yet, me!

Apple Pie and Shaved Va-jay-jay's

So, ya'll know me. I am not so big on the "let's review etsians" deal. I am more about the funny. That is just how I roll. But, I need to give a shout out to someone who not only makes me laugh, but makes my mouth water. She also used to beat me up when I was a kid. Yeah, that's right. My sis. Creativity runs in our southern blood! She runs the etsy shop The Curious Spork. How interesting is that?

This shop is full of fun polymer clay items that "rock my socks". She is just opening so she is putting new fun things in everyday.

Here are a few of my favorites...

Who doesn't love apple pie?

Let's not forget about breakfast, the most important meal of the day! (it's more than diet coke and Marlboro Lights girls!)

And my personal favorite...

Pierced, tattooed, and shaven....

Weiners and Who-Has!

So, if you aren't too busy wearing my pieces (come on, you got more than one arm or ear!)...you should stop on by her shop. She loves custom orders and wants to make something fun, tasty, or just plain dirty for you!

http://www.thecuriousspork.etsy.com/

Oh, and if you are totally sweating for fun things going on in my world...just wait! I have had lots goin on! And my birthday is coming up this weekend! Yeah, that's right. My mom was in labor on Labor day!

Lessons Learned In College This Week...and I ain't talking about addition!

As you might have noticed, I have been MIA the past week or so. Instead of being able to say it was for some really exciting reason like being on an undercover mission with the FBI, being on a very exclusive vacation, or hell, just having a lot of sex…I have to tell all of you, my loyal readers, the truth. I have started back to school. It’s true! At almost (one and a half weeks to be exact) 27 years of age I am finally a senior in college.

Growing up, I always thought that college was this exciting place where very intelligent professors taught students and invigorated their brains with knowledge that they would use in their future endeavors. I was sadly mistaken. Although, maybe it is just because I am older. Maybe I would feel differently if I were 22 and about to graduate. But now, I feel a wee bit smarter than a good percentage of the people I pay to teach me.

Let me tell you all about what I have learned in my first week back in school.

When a professor uses the wrong words, all jumbled up, in an email, it is wrong to email her back and ask for clarification. This woman is obviously superior to me and should be treated as such. Who cares if I fail the class entitled “Teaching Secondary Reading” because my teacher is illiterate.

As a college senior I am unable to read. It is totally time effective for a DOCTOR to read the entire syllabus to me and my classmates as if we were just entering the third grade. While also telling us it is un-important to know due dates. Yes.

Fridays are your day off, from dressing. This has been a long week. It is totally acceptable if not more appropriate to come to class in your pajamas. Also, if you have neither brushed your hair nor your teeth, you receive double points! Bonus if you wear the skankiest sweat pants and flip flops in your closest.

Your business needs to be known to everyone. When you are telling about how drunk you got last night and what guy you wanted to hook up with at the bar (my major is predominantly female) it is a necessity to say it so loud that the class across the hall can hear it. I mean why else do you even come to class?

It is a contest on who is more broke. You ate ramen last week for every meal while waiting on your loan refund check? Well I ate bologna and cheetos. Also, you must say this loud enough that the rich girls want to join in even though you know they were eating at the Red Lobster while you were trying to make syrup and tuna fish sound yummy.

Buying the textbooks required for class is totally un-cool. Why be ahead of the game when you can hustle a few hours off of some other sucker’s book? Also, you must tell this story to everyone else so they are completely aware of how cool you are.

There are so many other fun things that I have learned this week as school. I just can’t spend the time to tell you all of them right now…because I am un-cool. I am starting on my weekend homework on Friday even though I know that the really cool kids are waiting until they get to class on Monday so they can copy off of my paper!

The Path To Happiness Is Lined With Ramen

As my loyal readers may know, I live with a complete nut-bag. I do love Mr. Big, but sometimes he does and says things that are just so random, weird, funny, idiotic, that I have to laugh at him and tell him that yes, in fact, you are a complete dumbass.

Last night was such a time.

At 10:30 Pm Mr. Big decided that he was hungry. This guy can eat for days and still be starved. I try to explain to him that he only has the one stomach, and he isn’t eating to go into hibernation, or anything else weird that animals are doing when they consume 3 day’s worth of food at one sitting. So right before bed he decides he will raid the cabinets. Mind you, our pantry is down to the nitty gritty because we have both been too busy to shop. I say that but really, I have been to busy to shop. Mr. Big is scared of the grocery store. He will not go. Ever. So, he starts to rummage and I hear all these huffs and puffs because there is nothing good in the pantry. So all of a sudden he comes out with this look of defeat on his face and a pack of ramen noodles in his hand.

“Are these any good?”
“Big, you have never had Ramen Noodles???”
“No. There really isn’t anything any good in there. Thought I might try these.”
“Well, welcome to the real world babe!”

Mr. Big is completely helpless so I had to share with him how you make this wondrous noodle concoction…meaning I made them for him. Personally I like to add a little butter to mine to make them tasty. Also, I feel that you are never too young to be at risk for a heart attack. Also, it is quite delicious to add a little tuna to the shrimp flavor.

Mr. Big devourers the whole bowl of the salty goodness (while laying in the bed…oh yeah, sexy) and looks at me with this magical look in his eyes…

“Aren’t these like 10 cent a pack?”
“Yeah, something like that. Why”
“We should get more!”
“Big, there are like 5 packs down there still. That should hold you for a while.”
“These are so great and so cheap! Our grocery bill is going to drop so much!”
“Dear, you can’t eat just Ramen.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it has like a zillion grams of sodium, and loads of fat!”
“It can’t. It’s just noodles!”
“Well I will get you a whole case and see how long you last.”

I know, we all have our weak moments. We have all ventured down the Ramen path before in a moment of hunger and broke-ness. But, I traveled that road long ago, at a much younger age. I find if funny that at 30 years of age, Mr. Big discovered Ramen. Not just that, but he feels we should quit buying all food other than Ramen.

This is what I live with, every day. I think you should all fear for my health if I am forced to start eating ramen regularly. There is a reason these are all that is left when the pantry is almost bare.

In the last days on earth, all that will be left is cockroaches and a lone pack of ramen…

…that will probably kill the cockroaches.

Stealing the Sexiness Back From the Senior Citizens

I am mad fresh. I know it. And, unlike most people, I know exactly why. How did I get to this place of absolute awesomeness, you ask… With the help of Mr. Big’s possibly senile grandma.

Mr. Big’s mother came over before Christmas and was talking to us about what all of the plans were as far as where we to be and when. Then she got a very serious look on her face and said “Please, no matter what you get, please act excited. Your grandmother is very old and is going rather nuts. I went shopping with her the other day and noticed that she got like 5 huge jars of pickles. I think she intends on giving them as presents. So, if you open a jar of pickles, please thank her and act very excited.” By this point, I am rolling on the floor laughing. FINALLY! It was Mr. Big’s family that was insane, not mine! Just like the little old lady in Christmas Vacation who wrapped up her cat and a Jell-O mold, she was going to wrap up random things from around her house and give them as gifts!

So we get to her house and settle in. After the dog finished humping my head (seriously, they have a 100 pound lab. I had to sit on the floor and he took a liking to me. What was bad is I was like “Aw, Jack you are so sweet” while trying to push him off of me and his grandpa says “You have a way with dogs, he really has taken a liking to you.”) we all got ready to open our presents. I watched, trying to hold in my giggles, as Big opened his gift. If I am lyin I am dyin, he got a carton of Marlboros and a huge jar of pickles. After we exchanged glances, it was my turn to open my gift. Realizing it wasn’t very heavy, I was thankful in knowing I wouldn’t have to pretend to adore pickles (they make me want to die just thinking about them). I opened my box and pulled out what I thought was a muumuu. Just when I started to plan out a response like “man I ADORE muumuus!” or “Who has time to wear real clothes, anyway?” I realized it was in fact, a house coat.

A lovely pink and white floral house coat.

Sadly, at the age of 26, I loved it! I could see on Mr. Big’s mom’s face she thought I was just playing along, but in fact, I wanted one!

Because I am bringing the house coat back.

You can bring back sexy all you want, Justin, but I am bringing back true sexiness. What is sexier than an article of clothing that can cover everything up and doesn’t even have to be worn with anything under it?

Just ask my neighbors…I let the dogs out in the back yard every morning, wearing my house coat. I know they have all seen me. I bet I am that person that everyone talks about over dinner. “Did you see that crazy girl over there in that get up? I wish she would put some damn clothes on!”

Usually these items are reserved for old women, but I think it is time the younger generation takes it back! Why can’t we just jump out of bed and pretend we are wearing a trench coat…all FBI style? Why can’t we enjoy the freedom of a garment that you don’t even have to wear underwear with? Loyal readers…the time is now! Take back the forgotten robe of hotness. Oh, I wear mine all the time. I don’t know how Mr. Big can keep his hands off of me!

So, if you are looking to be just as stylish as your girl here…pop on a stylin house coat, waltz out into the back yard…and just know that you are the hottest thing around for miles! (Except for old Mrs. Jones down the block. From here it looks like hers is neon green polka dotted. You go Mrs. Jones!)



**I would like to thank my girl Boo for inspiring me to tell my story of my love of house coats..
Check out her etsy page for awesome cuffs, hats and anything else badass she knits up! (and she has an awesome mohawk. I bet she would look fab in a house coat!)
http://seebooknit.etsy.com

Meet My Dogs! and **Check Out My Sale**

Let me preface this by saying…I work at a doggie daycare, so I get to see hundreds of different dog owners every week. Plus, I am a dog owner myself. I have two furry little critters that run my house and think they own me.

Let’s face it, us dog people are crazy! What other type of person goes around talking about balls, and anal glands, and carries bags around to pick up poop with. I have two dogs, Won-Ton, a chow mix and Skeeter, a dachshund mix. Won-Ton is a lover of everyone, and Skeeter is a momma’s boy with a severe hatred of his dad, Mr. Biggs.

My dog knows that when his dad pisses him off the best revenge is to poop in his aquarium room, right in front of the tank. It never fails. That right there, is pure genius. Forget helping the blind, opening doors for me, or fetching a beer, my dog knows revenge. Sometimes I wonder what my dogs are actually thinking…and saying about me when I am not around. Call me crazy all you want. I think that if he knows what to do when he is angry, I am sure they sit around and talk trash when I am at work…

Skeeter – “Did you see that big one I laid in dad’s room last night? That will teach him to tease me with the last Doritos!”
Won-Ton – “Dude, you keep doing that and he will keep blaming his farts on you.”
Skeet – “That’s true. Man does he have some bad ones! What does he eat! I can’t see what mom sees in him!”
Won – “Hey, don’t complain! The kibble has gotten a lot better since we moved here…and the backyard is always full of rabbits!”
Skeet – “Plus we have that crazy cat to chase! “
Won – “Man, that cat is full of crap. Did you see how it chewed up mom’s shoe and acted like we did it! I am going to bite it in the ass the next time it comes out from under that bed!”
Skeet – “And it gets to sleep in the bed while we have to sleep down here on the couch. That is pure BS.”
Won – “Oh God, there they go again!”
Skeet – “I know! They get my balls taken off…but no, not dad!”
Won – “Hey, I feel you! I know, let’s go mess with them!”
Skeet – “OK! I will put my cold nose on dad’s butt, and you jump on the bed and get in mom’s hair; she hates that!”

Dad – “WOAHHH!!!!”

Can you tell that Mr. Biggs is none to fond of the pups sometimes? I think with opposable thumbs, Skeeter could take over the world…

Moe-Skeeter

Won-Ton

On another note...I am having a huge sale in my store! Buy 4 items or more and get 20% off! Also, there are tons of items I just marked for clearance...these are available at a huge savings!

www.cherriesrockmysocks.etsy.com