Some Boys Wear Pink...But Usually They're GIRLS

What about my baby GIRL says, "Hey old man at church, I'm a boy. What's up nosey person at the bank, I'm a dude. Hi raspy-voiced cashier lady; you can call me 'little guy' if you'd like."

Is it the pink bow on her head?
Is it the flowered blankey drapped over her?
Is it the purple binki she is going to town on?
Or is it the ruffly sweatshirt she just yacked all over?

WHAT THE HELL IS IT? I am thisclose to laying out the next person that calls her a boy.

This Maybe Was On a Christmas Card

My sister posted some of her family pictures on her blog--the ones that didn't make the cut because she was talking or had her mouth open funny--and the title was, "Photos You Won't See on Our Christmas Card."

So in response to that I have posted a picture of myself that did in fact show up on my Christmas card a few seasons ago when I was single. (Right now looking at this picture, you say, "Damn, why was she ever single?" I concur. It was hard to believe.) Since I didn't have a family or spouse-person to put on a Christmas card I decided to dress up in my grandma's slick 80's exercise suit and put my little lonesome sexy self on a Christmas card that I mailed to the whole family.

Pretty sure I caught myself a man and had him reeled in by the following Christmas. Don't ever under estimate the power of neon.

Christmas, Validations, and Other Things

Last night I did some early Christmas shopping at The Gateway. No I didn't squeal and then meet all my girlfriends or all of my sisters and mom there for a night of turkey and swiss plus dessert at The Dodo. No I didn't get all dolled up to go hang out at LuvSac to meet boys. And no, I did NOT enjoy having to go into Abercrombie & Fitch to buy a gift for somebody who shall remain nameless. (No, it's not a gift for Ben. I'd never marry an A&F boy.)

Oh, the reasons I don't care to go to A&F are insanely numerous but here are a few of my favorites. The whole place stinks to high heaven of men's cologne. I like a good smelling man but I don't like to return home to have my hair, clothes, and shopping purchases all smelling like teenage soft porn. Speaking of soft porn, (and this makes me sound old and prudish) just put the damn A&F clothes on the stupid models. If I want to see naked people running around the New England countryside, I'll watch Real World: Boston reruns on MTV. Another dislike: Loud music! Loud music! LOUD MUSIC! (Again, I sound old but I'll own it so who cares? I have a kid, I go to bed at a reasonable hour, and I like my morning workout to be followed by a bowl of oatmeal. So load up the U-Haul and move me to Florida already.) Why must it be so loud? Between the deafening music, the painfully strong cologne, and the black and white porn, it's like a sensory overload.

After my Gateway shopping adventure, I got to my car and realized I didn't ask for validations at any of the places I had shopped. I was parked closest to A&F so I had to go BACK inside to ask for one. Guess what?! They don't validate. I realize it's their choice but why wouldn't a major store in a shopping center offer validations to it's paying patrons? Now for the best part of my shopping adventure. As I walked out of the store, I said, as loudly as possible, "What freaking store at The Gateway doesn't validate?!" And nobody could hear my ranting or label me as crazy because the music was too loud.