One-Hour Photos Gone Wrong, Part 2

Showing the exquisite taste that makes her Sunshine, Sunshine has requested the photo(s) that were the object of the One-Hour expedition that went wrong. And I'm more than happy to oblige, of course.

I know it's hard to tell the difference but that really is me, NOT Johnny Cash. What can I say? I was feeling colorful.
I think this is the one I got autographed. It is framed and usually on my Wall O' Greg, but with painting my house, the Wall O' Greg is not up yet.
And in this one, I'm laughing my head off, because I said something stupid. Kristen told Greg to scrunch down so that she could get more of my dress in the shot. When he obliged, I said something like, "I feel so tall now!" He humored me with a chuckle and I laughed like a hyena. I'm sure it charmed all of Vegas. lol I MIGHT have been just a TEEEENY bit nervous.
Thank you, Sunshine, for giving me an excuse to share the photos. ::siiiigh:: Nothing like a stroll down memory lane.

"Kickin'" Awards and Barbie-Dot-Com

Somewhere within the past year, my oldest, Meg, was playing games at "Everything Girl dot com." This site links into Barbie, Polly, and all kinds of good "dot coms."

Meg had made her way into Barbie dot com and was trying to play a game. It required that she make up a user i.d. and a password. No problem, right? Well, she put in an i.d. and when it prompted her for a password she decided to use the name of our then newly acquired dog, Pooh. However, the "h" on "Pooh" had no meaning for Meg, as is the case with many letters in many words where Meg is concerned, so in her own definitive style, she left it off. She typed in "Poo." A very tame word...not worthy of soap-in-the-mouth or hot sauce either, right? WRONG. An error page popped up that said, "We don't use that word at Barbie dot com." I nearly fell on the floor laughing. I guess Barbie is calling us all to a higher standard. It has become one of my favorite phrases. "We don't say that at Barbie dot com." I use it on my friend Ginny all the time. (She reminds me we aren't AT Barbie dot com, so she doesn't care, but I still remind her.)

Having said that, I must tell you all that in this case, Barbie and I are on the same page. It's hard for me to even say the word b.... b.... butt. I taste soap every time I try.

So in light of that, I would like to now address the "Kickin'" Awards my title is referring to.

My dear friend, Sunshine, has conferred upon me the honor of the "Kick-Batootie Blogger Award." However, if I join the club and use THEIR terminology, Barbie dot com will NEVER allow a link to my blog and what kind of mess would I find myself in THEN?? To be shunned by Barbie would be a thing most grave.

Let me be clear, though. Sunshine, I am most touched that you gave me the award and think that it's really awesome (like you). If I could blog half as well as you it would be sooooooooooo cool. (Check her out at http://sowhatwasisaying.blogspot.com/.) She rocks!

And since I haven't gotten to read everybody yet and don't want to overlook any batootie-kickin' bloggers, rather than name 5 and link here there and everywhere, I'm going to name my favorite blogger in the world. The absolute best blogger of all time:

Greg Page

Don't tell me he doesn't even blog. How do you know? I sure don't know. And anyway, it doesn't matter. If he did, he'd shame us all.

Can you argue with that? Hmmmmm???

One-Hour Photos Gone Wrong

Tonight I'm blogging by special request about another Greg Page concert weekend. I know, I know, those of you who know me well have already read the novellas I wrote after each of these weekends, but nevertheless, I'm going to tell a little GP weekend story and if you're planning to read my blog tonight, you're going to read it! ...you know what I mean. And rest assured, it won't be the same as when I originally journaled about the weekend because it's been five years since it happened and my memory is ... well ... my memory...and that's being pretty generous with the term.

Kristen, Ms. I-Want-My-Cookie, requested I retell the story, even though she lived through it with me. Apparently she was amused by the retelling of her inability to get over a cookie...wait, inability to get over a non-cookie, and so she figured this would be fun. I think she's right because before I can even begin to recall details, I have this mental image of literally being unable to stay standing because I was laughing soooooooooooo hard. Maybe I shouldn't say that, because it sets you all up for hilarity that I might not be able to deliver. I mean...what if this is an "I guess you had to be there" type of situation? Well, I guess we'll find out in a few minutes, won't we? So it's up to you. You can risk this falling flat and read on...or run for your life now.

Here we go....

Kristen and I had traveled to Las Vegas...separately...but she had supplied me with standby tickets...just like she did to Nashville (See Get Over It...just a couple days ago.) She did this even though we'd never met, because she figured of all people in the world, *I* needed to be at Greg's first US concert. I agreed with her, lol. And since I was unable to purchase airfare, she stepped in. THANKS, KRISTEN!

It is SO hard to isolate one tiny event from the weekend because from the moment I got off the plane until I got back on it to leave, Kristen and I laughed ourselves silly. It was just one thing after another that cracked us up. Neither of us drank anything stronger than a coke all weekend so we can't even blame it on "chemically-altered" behavior.

Anyway, we had seen Greg's concert, aka The Greatest Show On Earth, on Sunday night. After the show Greg had taken time to meet and greet everyone who cared to stick around for a photo and an autograph etc. And of course we stuck around. There was another gal, Cindy, with us as well as Kristen's hubby, for the concerts. Kristen, Cindy, and I, all three, brought our cameras and all three of us took individual pictures with Greg...on all the cameras. (Actually, I had two cameras with me, but can't remember if I used both at the meet and greet or not...not that it matters.)

After taking the photos and eventually heading back toward our hotel rooms, we decided that we MUST get the photos developed and take the photos back for autographs on the second night. So the next morning rolled around and since Kristen was pregnant that year, too, we took care of food first thing and then the customary driving down the sidewalk in Vegas. No wait...we did that the next morning...and I THOUGHT IT WAS A SERVICE DRIVE, so relax. Kristen got a little excited about that, but she got over that. Can't get over not getting a cookie, but I can drive her down a sidewalk ...or through a blasting zone (NOT my fault)...and all's fine. Go figure.

After we got those things out of the way we began searching for a one-hour photo. We had trouble finding one on the strip...it was probably disguised as a slot-machine or a costume fit for Liberacci, but be that as it may, we gave up on the strip. We asked around and finally headed for a mall. Mind you, Kristen and I are all about the photos. That is our purpose in life for the day...other than Kristen's food, of course...but we aren't the only ones on this escapade. We are dragging with us Kristen's hubby, Cindy, and another of Kristen's friends and HER hubby who flew in just because they could and to spend a night or two in Vegas while Kristen was there. SO there are six of us squeezed into a car built for two adults and three small children. I don't know how, though...unless we didn't and there was another car.... Hmmmm.... No I think we squeezed. I can still feel the door handle imbedded in my hip.

Ok, so we squeezed and we drove to the mall. Kristen and I forge the way to the One-Hour Photo and the helpful guy behind the counter tells us that the guy who does the one hour developing won't be in until one. No problem. It's eleven o'clock. That leaves three hours to kill, (two hours before the guy got there plus another to do the pics), but not too hard to do at a mall. So we start milling at the mall. Kristen was looking for formal wear for the "expecting." Cindy was looking for...what WAS Cindy looking for? I was looking for two hours to pass. Kristen got her dress and eventually found me. Everyone else had scattered. So Kristen and I continue to try to kill the time. It was not a total bust either. We saw a Willie Nelson imitator AND bought Kristen's hubby an alien drivers' license. The imitator and the license were equally appreciated.

Finally, after circling the mall enough times to cause dizziness, we see that it's time. We rush to the photo place and approach the counter. At this point we're exuding excitement. We can hardly contain our excitement to get the photos and see just how great we just KNEW they'd turned out. The man behind the counter hands us our packs of pictures and we begin going through them right there at the counter. We shuffle packs so we have the right ones from our respective cameras and we start going through them. I'm feeling disappointed and TOTALLY disgusted at my pictures. Every shot was a blur that every felon out there hopes his identifying photo will look like. It might as well have been Marty Feldman up on the stage from the looks of my photos. I was so irritated and completely engrossed in what I was doing for a minute...as was Kristen. Then breaking the silence, Kristen said, "Hill, where are the meet and greet photos?" My brain is going, "WHAT? What is she talking about? My Greg pics look like Marty Feldman." And then her question breaks through the thick walls of my head. I look at her. I blink a couple times and say, "In the camera....at the hotel."

It was at that point that Kristen and I lost it. Not like we were laughing loud and obnoxiously. Like we were laughing so hard we were making no sound, but I remember distinctly holding on to the edge of the counter with all my might because I was going down for the count, I was laughing so hard. We stood there laughing so hard we were crying. Meanwhile the two men working in the store (when I managed a glance their way) had these amused grins on their face...and a bit of a baffled look. It was SEVERAL minutes before either of us was capable of speech. Finally, one of us...and I don't remember who...realized that Cindy had her camera with her...........and it was digital. (Kristen and I were still in the dark ages with actual FILM in our cameras.) So we gather our strength (hey! laughing is exhausting!) and we head out to cruise the mall (because we haven't spent enough time there yet) and we race around and finally find Cindy. We were still laughing pretty hard, and if I recall correctly we weren't too good at explaining ourselves, so we just managed to get the camera out of her hands and raced back to the store.

5 minutes later we held in our hands the pictures we'd waited three hours for...and if we'd known it earlier we could have done it in those 5 minutes to begin with. We wouldn't have even needed Mr. One-Hour. ::sigh::

So there ya have it, Kristen. As well as I can remember it, anyway.......without re-reading my novella.

A phavorite foto...

I thought I'd join in with Candid Carrie's Friday Fiesta Foto Finish.

This is one of my many favorite photos. The reason I love it is simple enough. What's more fun and heartwarming than seeing your children laughing together?

Get Over It!

Now I don't go around telling everyone to "Get over it!" It's a rather harsh statement, but I think, if you'll read on, you'll agree that this is a case in which it is entirely fitting to say, "GET OVER IT ALREADY!"

A little over FOUR years ago, my good friend Kristen and I went to Nashville to see the grooviest of all men, Greg Page, perform with the TCB Band. (They used to play with Elvis.) Kristen sent me standby tickets to fly on Southwest Airlines, where she used to work. Now, for those who don't know me, it is paramount that you understand that I am the hugest fan ever of Greg Page (former lead singer of the children's group, The Wiggles.) These Nashville concerts were not Wiggly, but "grown-up" music. It rocked, to put it mildly.

But I'm getting ahead of myself...and the concert is not the point of this blog, so let me get back to it.

Due to excitement and not willing to risk being bumped from a flight (the risk you take flying standby), I opted to go a day before, which happened to be a Thursday. Kristen wasn't free to leave and join me until Friday. So I got to the hotel first, obviously. Upon checkin at the hotel, The DoubleTree, I was given a warm chocolate chip cookie. So I took my cookie and my bags and headed to my room.

Another thing you need to understand is that a Greg Page concert weekend is NOT about food. (Kristen never read that memo, apparently...as you'll soon see.) I can't eat on those weekends because I'm SO excited about getting to see Greg. I mean, just being in the same city as him sends my tum-tum into lockdown. And it's fine by me. I can survive off adrenalyn for that long, no prob.

Well I get to my room and though not too into the cookie, it IS a WARM cookie, so I try a bite. (That's what I do with all food throughout these weekends. I figure if I get a calorie or two, here and there, I'll be fine.) Problem: the cookie had nuts. WHY DO THEY DO THAT?? Blegck!! That should be illegal, so I pitch the cookie into the garbage and got on with life. Translation: I went down to the lobby to sit and wait to see if Greg would walk through. Yes, he was in the same hotel. No, he didn't walk through until VERY late that night. And yes, I was still sitting there when he did. (Although SOMEWHERE in there I left to get a sandwich across the street. I bet he snuck through then. Hmmmmm....)

Next day comes and (leaving out all kinds of Greg-related excitement because frankly, some of you wouldn't appreciate it...or understand ::sniff,sniff::...or couldn't take it, lol) I go and get Kristen from the airport. We come back to the hotel, she checks in, too, to get her room key (although we shared the room). And here's the critical point in this story. The DoubleTree didn't give Kristen her warm cookie. They didn't even give her a cold cookie. She got nothing but a plastic card they claim is a key. (Why do we call those cards keys? They aren't. They do the same job, I know, but they are NOT keys.)

Another important item here: Kristen was six months pregnant. So despite the fact that it was a Greg concert weekend, it was still about food for her. She tortured me and made me try to eat when she did.

Angry pregnant woman did NOT get her cookie. We won't go into her reaction when I told her I threw mine away. This is a family site. (Just kidding...not THAT bad.)

I cannot count the times I've heard since then, "I still haven't gotten my cookie!" I've even mailed her another cookie with microwave directions for warming it, and a most apologetic, though forged, letter from the management of that hotel, but does that count? Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Kristen wants her cookie from The DoubleTree.

So let's all say it together, with love, of course: "GET OVER IT ALREADY!"

Books, books, books

Reading...it was my first real hobby, my first real passion aside from my spiritual life. Then along came this computer and distracted me for about 5 years easily...but I'm rediscovering books. And I still love them!

But something has happened. It hasn't been a drastic change but there was a time I'd rather poke my eyes out than read non-fiction. Give me fiction! And please, make sure there's a good love story in it somewhere. No trash please. Just a good wonderful love story that gives me hope that there ARE men like that out there. However, I must have grown up these past 5 years because I've found that there ARE SOME non-fiction selections I can appreciate.

Before I delve into them, I have to stop and pay some homage to the best piece of fiction ever written: The Last Sin Eater, by Francine Rivers. Go to your library or a bookstore IMMEDIATELY and get it. It's amazing.

Ok, now back to my new-found appreciation for non-fiction. I have found that there are areas of my heart and soul which I need to pay attention to. I've found that there are corners that have been bruised over the years and they need healing. Ignoring them does not bring healing. So a couple days ago I was out and not planning on buying any books. I'm seriously trying to be very frugal right now and not spend a penny more than I should. But there were three books I could NOT turn away from. And not in a sense of "I HAVE TO HAVE IT!! I WAAAAAAAAAANT IT!" but more like.... Like.... Like I'd look at it, then put it down, thinking "Later. I can wait." And then feeling a nudge inside telling me to get it. So I finally paid heed to the nudge (which I believe is the Holy Spirit giving me some guidance, speaking to my heart) and I bought them.

I've begun two of the three, and really am anxious to start the third one, but just haven't yet. Two of these books are about changes in me. The first is "Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul." You can bank on me coming back to share some neat stuff I'll learn from that one. It's off to a good start, but I don't have any particular "nuggets" to share just yet. The second is "Love as a Way of Life: Seven Keys to Transforming Every Aspect of Your Life," by Gary Chapman. It's the one I'm still looking forward to. It has a chapter on forgiveness which was the hook for me. More on that another day. The third is "Have a New Kid by Friday." Anyone who knows me also knows how badly I'd like to have more kids. Being single, I'm thinking this book might be my only present hope. Ok, just kidding. It's about discipline. The subtitle is "How to Change Your Child's Attitude, Behavior, and Character in 5 Days." It's by Dr. Kevin Leman. I'm already intrigued by it and can hardly wait to finish and IMPLEMENT the strategies. It's fascinating. I haven't finished it but already feel comfy recommending it to others. My prayer is that I can stick to it. I want desperately to be more patient, kind, and gentle with my girls...............but more firm, too. I want to set an example for them of self-control, even when I'm displeased. And I want to teach them better obedience (like first-time obedience) and more respect. The book gives me some hope and I'm enjoying the read, too.

I suppose that's it. Nothing earth-shaking. Nothing funny. Just sharing because these books represent some big changes I want to make in ME.

I Should Have Been a Singer

Don't laugh at me. I should have! NOT A Capella...because I like to jump to a variety of keys if I have no accompaniment. And then there's a little...wait, strike that, ... BIG problem I have with timing and rhythm. But I should have been a singer.

I'm tellin' ya. I'm a real pied piper. If I sing...they come.

You think I'm joking. Today, my girls were playing "office" in Alli's room. Alli was apparently giving some career counseling to Megan, from what I heard. (She found out Megan is good at making sandwiches and recommended she try working for Subway.) I headed for the kitchen, thinking I'd clean when I saw the cd player sitting there...and I KNEW what was in it. I couldn't resist. I went over and pumped up the volume and began singing and dancing to the soundtrack from Mamma Mia! I was having the time of my life and convincing my children that I am among the stranger creatures on the planet. I went boogeying down the hall and began lip-synching as I peeked around the corner of the career counselor's doorway. At first I just got smiles from the counselor and giggles from her client. I headed back to the kitchen. But it was too much fun to have alone, so back down the hall I went and I began more lip-synching and peeking into the counselor's office. This time Little Miss Counselor said, somewhat politely, "Mom, you're interrupting." Her client just laughed and did some lip-synching of her own. Ooooookay, back to the kitchen. It was better in there anyway; the music was louder.

Confession: I didn't pay much heed to my chastisement for interrupting. Nope, I went right back down that hall repeatedly because you just can't stop the music sometimes.

But finally, along came "The Dancing Queen." You can't lip-synch to "The Dancing Queen." No way, Jose. You have to belt it out. It's the only way. So I did. Megan couldn't take it anymore and came running down the hall to sing and dance along. Alli, still the career counselor, tried to maintain her professional image and stayed in her office, until I finally cried out, "Come on, Alli! You KNOW you want to!" And vrooooooooooooooooooooooom, out came Alli.

I was thrilled. Now we could REALLY have fun...or so I thought.

But I was wrong.

Alli shot right past me and............

turned off the music.

That does it. Tomorrow I'm breaking out "Music & Lyrics."

She'll wish she'd danced.