wanna go to the pool?

i love the smell of chlorine and sunscreen. the sight of bright colored pool bags. those floaties that babies wear. a toddler strollin in wearin his eye goggles, totin his new noodle.

i think i must've spent about 40% of my childhood at the pool.

when i was really young, i would go with my meemaw to the pool. i had the floaties. i didn't know how to swim yet. climbing to the top of the water slide {extra magical because it had a waterline which kept the slide slick all the time} was a huge adrenaline rush for me. sometimes, i'd get to go to the deep end with my aunt or when my meemaw would get in. hours and hours of inhaling, drinking, coughing up highly chlorinated water. holy sweetness. complete with blood shot eyes. who needs goggles anyway? and the lifeguard's whistle blow. "Clear the pooool." what a buzz kill.

there are a couple of childhood bathing suits that i remember most fondly. i had a blue and white tie-dyed one piece that i wore until i was too tall for it. and a bikini - top was blue and white stars and bottom was red and white stripes. it was my birthday bathing suit. loved them both.

in middle school, the pool became THE social hangout - and place of utter mortification, almost daily. i am the oldest of four, and my mom would haul us all to the pool in the gray dodge caravan because we were wild as hell and it was a great way to tire us out.  my siblings were all in elementary school, and i was in middle school and we were the new kids in town. awesome. oh, and my chest was flatter than a fritter while it seemed like every chick at the pool was built like a brick shit house. not cool.

it was like a day-long affair - tons of chips, sandwiches, and those quaker chocolate chip granola bars, diet drinks, juices. my brothers would NEVER tire of diving for sticks and wearing goggles to chase each other around under water for dayyyyssss. i had my magazines and tanning oil, praying for God to make me invisible.

but - sometimes i'd go with my friends, sans siblings {y'all know i love y'all}, and it became a gossip fest with my friends, and more analyzation of how other chicks were built like they were 17 when we looked like 5th graders. there was an art to prancing around the pool with your shorts pulled up, but unbuttoned, and flipped down while you walked to buy a drink or something. {wth?} and everybody had those adidas flip flops with the blue and white stripes.

hubs and i pooled it up recently, and i swear, it seems like i get hotter sittin out there a hell of a lot faster than i used to. and there was no music. whaaaaaat? i had some mags, and my sunglasses, and my sunscreen, and my baby oil ... and a lot more lovin' than i did back in the day. {part of it did make it to my boobs, thankfully.} some other new additions include a pump site, and a sensor site. hotness, brought to you by diabeetus.

i REALLY want a one piece. not a i'm-fat-and-don't-care-enough-to-lose-weight kinda way, but in a i-don't-want-to-be-stared-at-by-children-and-rude-adults-alike-because-of-my-medical-shiz kinda way.

knah mean?

i'm on the hunt. suggestions? websites?

pinterest it is ... fingers crossed.

y'all know i don't love cats

especially black ones. duh, they are bad luck. remember this post?

so, imagine the tightness in my chest/horror/omg i felt when i saw these hoodlums just chillin on our back deck. there were FIVE of them. SOLID BLACK. except one had a lil white on his neck.

first, i tried to tell myself how totally ridiculous it is to be paranoid over some cats.

that didn't really work. so, then, i reasoned that it wasn't a bad thing because they were soft fluffy little kittens ... even though one of em's eye was totally crusty and small and barely there. CREEPtastic.

whatever. so, i was about to hop in my car to make a three hour drive, and i noticed the wind was blowin and the leaves were upside down and i thought, "oh lawd, somethin is about to go down."

i decided to stop trippin and get my usual road trip bevy

thank you, sonic, for diet cherry flavor ... totally mag with diet coke or diet dr. pepper. i highly recommend.

and then - as i was sippin on my large diet dr. pepper with diet cherry flavor, lo and behold,  I saw this, which duh, cancelled out any bad vibes from the black cats. 
 

plus TWO red birds flew right in front of my car. 

yeahhhh. tha's what i'm talkin bout.

dear ________,

dear blood sugar:

why are you high? i didn't raise you like this.

dear good dreams:

why do you show up RIGHT before the alarm goes off? WHAT the deal?

dear next year:

i know you got dis.

dear p***s:

i don't think i like you anymore. you used to watch me shave ... {forgive me for writing that. every time i read these "letter" posts, i think of it.}

dear dude who hit my mama's car with no insurance, and with sister/car owner who also had no insurance:

i hope the hell they take your damn licenses and you have to pay for your slack ass decision making. but prolly not, because we live in america where the government has made it so people can pretty much do whatever the hell they want and the rest of us can pay for it for them.

dear mr. fantasy:

play us a tune.

dear. mista. president:

i'm writin you because ... shit is still real ******** in my neighborhood. {always did love some tupac}

dear adobe lightroom:

i'm really excited that i was able to purchase you at a discount. maybe now i can use the money i saved to sign up for some classes on how to use you.

dear adobe tv:

that chick who does y'all's how-to's for lightroom is in need of some aesthetic love.

dear lil wayne's family that i saw in roxboro cookin on a grill, drankin a bottled brew, swattin flies, all without even GETTIN UP FROM THE CHAIR, on the front porch, bout to get hit by a car wit some younguns swingin on a tire swing:

i SO wanted to capture that shiz wit the nikon, but i was afraid you might think i was makin fun of y'all. not the case. shit was epic. pure awesomeness.

dear doritos:

your level of perfection and flawlessness can only be described by a word that ain't even been thought of yet. and you and ice cold diet mt. dew in a can? soul mates. clearly. oh - and don't ever let anybody tell you that you're played out. you are at your best in your original flava.

dear bird who keeps flyin into my window at work:

you are dumb as a hay rake.

dear brody:

it's nasty how you carry your ball around and then freak out when it's missing like it's a pacifier and then roll it around in your mouth, throwin it to the back of your throat and then somewhat gagging while you get it adjusted. it's just a ball. seriously there, shug.

dear nice red headed pharmacist at cvs:

i really appreciate that you are always patient and in a good mood. it's as if you get paid to do your job and you chose that career for yourself. also, as a result of your kindness and patience, i have successfully fought off the urge to hate you because of your "lilly" outfits and pearls. much love.

dear dude who carved a 7 ft ram and then put it on sale on craig's list for $3000.

wtf, dude? did your mama drop you on your head? 

dear person who {might} buy said ram:

you too, are dumb as a hay rake.

dear waiters and dudes sittin on barstools, and men gawkers alike:

just because you are typically surrounded by unbathed haggards wearin no bra and some sweatpants does not mean it's cool to straight cold stare down a shugpie while she tryin to eat. or go pee in peace. seriously. get cinemax. did you ever have a mother?

dear blog readers:

i'm gonna cut myself off for now. you're welcome.

help me, rhonda

So far, I only have the 18-55mm 3.5-5.6 lens that came with the Nikon.

But now that I've gotten a taste, I can't help maself ...

So, pleeeease, pleeeeeease, help meeeeeee ...  



Option A:

AF-S DX NIKKOR 55-200mm f/3.5-5.6G ED VR II

about $250

better zoom

Option B:

AF-S NIKKOR 50mm f/1.8G

about $220 

better depth of field ... aka fuzzy background

Every time I think I've decided. I change my mind again. I feel like I take mostly close ups, and I think the bokeh is a magical experience.

What do y'all think? 

PLEASE help a girl out.

Really. I am BEGGING for feedback. I am SO indecisive.

Peace out, shugs.

nc state

Hubs & I decided to spend this GORgeous Saturday having a yummy lunch at Cafe Carolina, followed by a walk around our old stomping grounds. 

Happy Saturday.

Dear Lord, thanks for makin me southern.

Hey frands. Can we talk about Southern Living? When I think Southern Living, I think of when I was in fourth grade and my meemaw lived in Alabama, and we drove for what seemed like a day and a half to get to her house, and while I was there, one of the things I did was cut up lots of Southern Living magazines to make a giant flower collage. Thinking of Southern Living also conjures up images of the 80s and Designing Women.

BUT - my mama bought the May issue, and y'all, I am pretty much wanting to ask for a subscription for my birthday. First of all, there is something to be said for holding real magazines. Real books - with real pages. The only time I have been able to tolerate the Kindle was when I was readin 50 Shades and I had to get to the next book fast.

But anyway - look at this room:

1) hydrangeas 

2) birds

3) blue and white vases

4) green

Yum!

And who wouldn't want to investigate the best pints in Alabama with these two shugpies who happen to be brothers?

Mmmm ... recipes, road trip ideas, party plannin. Yes, ma'am & thank you so kindly.

I read my mama's Southern Living tonight and painted my toe nails bright, happy pink.

I am ready for summer.

And eatin chicken salad.

I wanna throw a party.

With tea-inspired cocktails and beer.

And take pictures of it all.

Word. a jordan-inspired post.

Today's post is inspired by my friend Jordan's post. First of all, my world brightened up the day Jordan decided to blog. You see, Jordan is one of my hub's college roomies. They lived in a mayjahly sketch ass house called "Lord Berk". Jordan is blunt, sarcastic, and analytic. And ... hilarious. I admire him greatly because he just says it. I hope to be more like him as time goes by.

Anyhoo - his post today was about phrases and gestures and jokes. More specifically, ones he hates. But it got me to thinkin ... I was analyzing some random (mostly southern) phrases the other day, and I thought, "Who in the hell started this?" and sometimes, "What does it even mean?"

1) She look like she been rode hard and put up wet. (Shortened version: "She looks hard." I find myself saying this more often than I'd like.)

2) Tighter than Dick's hatband.

3) You're old enough for your wants not to hurt you. (Totally sayin this to my kids one day.)

4) Busier than a one armed paper hanger. (Stepdad says this. He's from Ohio. ;) )

5) Tight as a tick on a dog's ass.

6) Colder'n a witch's t****y in a brass bra.

7) You can't take chicken shit and make chicken salad.

8) Her hair is flat as a fritter. 

Clearly, there are 6 majillion others. Leave one in the comments. I dare you. 

Also, I may have recently fallen victim to words such as "totes", "snark" and "natch". Two of those are the fault of Anj Davis. But, I think more common than hating the words/phrases themselves, we more likely want to punch the people who say them. Therefore, the phrase itself becomes annoying as hell. Know what I mean?

lots of sax, cheaters, and an amateur in the white house

duh. you dono?

1) this weekend, me and the Hubs Davis went to the airport overlook. there was an older man parked in his truck beside us. he struck up a conversation with us, and he shared that he drives up about four times a year (from about an hour away) to watch the planes. but, he is terrified of flying and said you couldn't pay him enough to "fly in one of them thangs". isn't it interesting? one is more likely to die in a car accident than in a plane crash.

2) children write things that are unintentionally inappropriate/humorous .... in a letter to ben roethlisberger: "Do you get sax a lot?" ... aka ... "Do you get sacked a lot?"

3) my brother's dog is a freak. she comes over and chases Brody around and tries to basically lick the entire inside of his mouth with her too-big-for-her-mouth tongue. freak, i say. i seriously became nauseated.

4) as i was driving this weekend, i was reminded once again what a blessing it is to live in such a beautiful place. i love nc. here's to hoping that our "image" of being backwoods and redneck is keeping people who think shit like that somewhere else.

5) so far, i have tried gluten free pizzas from mellow mushroom and brixx. mellow mushroom = tasty, but the texture is a little different, and it's not good reheated. brixx = major difference in texture and not good. that's just my two cents. has anyone tried domino's?

6) i hate it when people try to guilt trip you every time you are around them. then they are baffled as to why you don't want to hang out all the time.

7) the charlotte knights baseball stadium is not in charlotte. it is not even in nc. weird, right?

8) i wish you could buy mixed nuts without the cashews. they are sweet and soft and dis.gust.ing.

 

9) i much prefer waylon over johnny. blasphemy in austin, apparently. sue me.

10) i love anj davis. i think he smells delicious. he will be embarrassed that i wrote this.

11) now unc's got african american studies classes goin on ... MINUS an actual professor and real grades. nice. am i on glue, or is this for real?

12) The Amateur - I have not read this. And I clearly won't. But the thought of Oprah bein pissed because she prostituted herself out to his campaign and now they don't want her ass over for supper makes me smile. Duh. What was she thankin?

 

Bike Riding and Breast Feeding - Your thoughts?

No,  I don't have les bebes, but I find this topic interesting ... here are some snippets from Time - what do you think? Should your child ride his bike and then come in and request breast milk? Is it cool for your 5 year old to be sleeping in the bed with you and the hubs every night? How much is instinct? How much is cultural pressure?

 

Grumet - supporter of attachment parenting and extended breast feeding

 .... you can read the Q&A with her here

here's a snippet:

My mother breast-fed me until I was 6 years old, until I self-weaned.
Do you remember breast-feeding?
Yes.
What’s that memory like?
It’s really warm. It’s like embracing your mother, like a hug. You feel comforted, nurtured and really, really loved. I had so much self-confidence as a child, and I know it’s from that. I never felt like she would ever leave me. I felt that security.

Also, her blog: I am not the Babysitter

Here is a related article  ...

 Extended Breast-Feeding: Is It More Common Than We Think? 

here's a snippet:

Several years later, I weaned my youngest because I had an unavoidable out-of-town trip. She was pushing 3 at the time, and I was able to have a conversation with her about what was about to happen. We had a kind of farewell party: she celebrated by munching on a cupcake made to resemble a breast with a gumdrop nipple, and that was it.

My thoughts:

1) I do support breast feeding, or more importantly, a mother's CHOICE to do so, or not - TO A CERTAIN AGE. But, at a certain age, you have to wonder, is this about the kid's needs or Mama's needs?
2) What do these dads think?
3) I'm really confused about how nursing into late toddlerhood {or early elementary school!?!?!} nurtures your child's social development and creates independence.

 Food {Drink?} for thought.

Snarkfest in Shugville

 

I am SO DAMN TIRED of hearin about Amendment One - especially plastered all over Facebook. Not because of the fact that I may not agree with these peeps, but because they post their political opinions EVERY FIVE MINUTES. Apparently, they are under the impression that some people are lost and need their political "guidance".

I am sick of people asking me to repeat myself 800 THOUSAND times. I am sick of people asking me to repeat myself 800 THOUSAND times. "Umm, what did you say we are supposed to do?"

PLEASE - mind yo own damn business. If you have to wonder if a friend wants your advice, they don't. Seriously. Hush.

More on that - don't be tellin people to do some shit you wouldn't even do yourself. 

I am pretty much ready to live in BFE.

Please communicate with other people at your company about how they JUST talked to the customer, before you send the same customer a letter sticking your foot waaaaaay on down your throat because you clearly are lacking knowledge of the 30 minute conversation that has already been had regarding the issue.

Do the job you get paid for. Nobody else wants to do it for you.

I wish people who made decisions had to actually be in the shoes of the people for whom they are making said decisions. Oh, and had to trade paychecks for a year. The tune would change real quick-like, I feel certain.

And on a really random note, inspired by a conversation at work:

I find it ironic that a gynecologist's (yes - this one is about gynecologists) last name includes the word "vulgar", don't y'all? It is also somewhat disturbing that there is another gyno who is widely known for being "that gyno who looks like Garth Brooks". 

What goes through one's mind when one decides, "Heyyyyy. I'm gonna pick this guy to take care of my lady parts because he looks like a fat, old, retired country singer who cheated on his wife"? Or for that matter, what makes somebody decide, "I know! I'm gonna be a gyno when I grow up!" But hey, somebody's gotta do it, right?

That is all. 

Roses really smell like Boo Boo Boo

I really wanted to blog today. So I hit "new post" and have been staring at this screen for quite awhile now. I hate when this happens. You people out there who have "blog planners" where you are with it enough to think ahead - I admire you. More often than not, this here bloggy is a brain dump. Buckle up for RANDOM.

Here are some recents:

1) What the hell is the deal with all these random "Hey Girl" Ryan Gosling pictures? I don't think he's attractive. But, some of the "Hey Girls" are funny I suppose.

2) I bought two pairs of "fake Jack Rogers". Twenty dolla. I am pleased to announce that in my humble opinion, the fake ones are more comfortable, and I don't feel sick about having to pick between silver and gold because at that price, girlfriend can have both! It's the little things, friends.

 

 3) I THOROUGHLY enjoyed the "Bone Thugs N Harmony" channel on Pandora last night. Thoroughly. Good ish. I LOVE me some Bone. Not to mention other delicious treats that were thrown in. When's the last time you enjoyed "Roses" by Outkast? Not recently enough, I can assure you.

4) Totally:

5) I love that Hubs Davis comes home from workin outside all day, leaves this on the steps ...

... and takes a nap on the couch in his skivvies. Unfortunately, I will not be sharing a pic of Hubs taking a nap on the couch in his skivvies. As a matter of fact, I am taking the, "better to ask for forgiveness than permission" for mentioning this on the blog at all. Wish me luck.

6) I feel motivated, and wash clothes. I even put them into the dryer afterwards. But, I fail when it comes to actually taking them out and folding. Then I end up drying them again to get the wrinkles out. #notverygreen

7) It is weird that "cannot" is considered correct as one word or two: "can not". Why is that? And - I wish they would pick a "correct" way to use an apostrophe at the end of a singular noun ending in "s". Gyah. I HATE when there is no "right" answer.

8) Yesterday mornin, I cheated on my no gluten diet and SA-VORED a sausage, egg & cheese BISCUIT. Oh. My. Lawd. Beyond mind blowing.

9) I wish I was at a bomb celebration like this for Cinco de Mayo:

Instead, I had some lame nachos that I wish I hadn't ate. PS - I'm pretty sure Mexicans do not celebrate Cinco de Mayo. (To see more gems like the ones above, read the Epic 80's Pig Pickin Post.)

10) Peace out. I'm goin to get some ice cream. 

UPDATE: The fake Jack Rogers can be found at Shoe Department. (Shoe Show is the same company, but around here, Shoe Show didn't have them - only Shoe Dept.) :)

tried my hand at photography ...

My cousin is graduating in June, so I took some Senior shots of him ... 

And I had fun.

I may be hooked. 

;)