Category Archives: Awesomesauce
There are two kinds of people in the world, those who love ALL THE HALLOWEEN THINGS, and those who listen to One Direction.
I’m of the former.
This year All Hallows E’en falls on a Saturday. This is like being told you just won the lottery and your check will be delivered by a half-naked Jensen Ackels.
Preparations for this year’s festivities have been going on in the family for weeks. Make-up effects have been tested, costumes have been purchased, tried on, altered, and provided the correct accoutrement – be it badassery or cute – to enhance the experience.
I usually dress as either a witch or vampiress. The makeup is the same for both, as is the hair, just the dress changes and the hat. What’s a witch without a hat, I ask you?
This year, in his grandfather-ly exuberance, the hubby has told ALL THE KIDS that we will attend their festivities. These kids do not all live together in a big commune. They’re separated by miles and miles.
Sometimes, he doesn’t think things through.
So, I’m forgoing a costume this year, given the fact that I’ll be in and out of cars and houses and running up and down streets with mass quantities of urchins following me.
Except, I have a Black Widow t-shirt so if I can find my black sweat pants I’ll be going as Natasha Romanoff, post workout. I’ll even pull my hair back, add a bandana and scrub the make up off. I may even add my weighlifting gloves just so it looks legit. If I can find them. Not that I don’t weighlift, I’m just so much a badass I don’t wear gloves, bitches.
And WordPress insists that Halloween, accoutrements, Ackels, and badassery are all a) not words and b) incorrectly spelled not-words.
I’ll give them all the above, so long as I can keep the Ackels. Eff you WordPress, he’s mine.
Okay, I’m a nerd.
I’m a space nerd.
From the moment I laid eyes on Capt. Kirk, I’ve been hooked.
So, when a friend sent me this video I squeed with delight, and then I realized what I was watching.
Outer space? No big deal.
And isn’t that wonderful?
I’m working on a long, whiny, right-now-incomprehensible, post on my stepfather’s recent illness and death, and my mother’s insanity.
But, while I’m doing that I just wanted to take a moment and mention something awesome that happened at Pensacola Beach last week.
I was standing in barely-ankle deep water when one of these came swimming up to me…
………only it was much smaller..I’d say 2-3 ft..a juvenile lemon shark.
Swimming in front of the shark, at a much faster and more frantic pace, was a smaller fish so I knew right away that the shark wasn’t interested in my toes.
At least I hoped he wasn’t.
I watched him swim right towards me, then move off to my left at the last second, missing his target as my wiggling toes distracted him.
Hubby came over by me and Bruce (that’s his name, now and really I think it’s fitting we’re on a first-name basis as he and I are practically BFFs even if I did interrupt his lunch) again swam towards me, this time he wasn’t chasing anything and as he broke off at the last moment we made eye contact.
It was weird, scary, fascinating, and I loved it. Later, I realized that if he’d bitten me not only would Bruce be off the Christmas card list forever, but it would’ve hurt. A. Lot.
But, he didn’t and we shared a moment and now I’m pretty much an expert on juvenile lemon sharks so ask me anything.
Just don’t ask me to go swimming at night off Pensacola Beach. I think Bruce may hold a grudge.
I want one of each, kthxbai!
My family is, shall we say…competitive.
And by competitive I mean, cut throat, winner take all, Hunger Games competitive.
So it was with fear and trembling that I watched my seven grandchildren scour my sodden and muddy yard for the 108 eggs we’d carefully hidden.
Some eggs were real, but most were shiny colors with shiny coins or camo colors with candy inside.
Before the back door even opened, my oldest daughter laid down the rules:
NO cutting in on the little ones (youngest is 3, and so cute it hurts..no one will mess with her).
NO cussing (which was met with looks of confusion, and one “I won’t” from her 7 -yr. old son).
The door opened and I was reminded of the beginning of a Hunger Games competition. The looks of sheer determination were…intense. And that was just the parents.
Then I looked at the kids.
They looked determined to get ALL THE EGGS for themselves.
It was muddy, it was sloppy, it was chaos, and it was hilarious as egg after egg was discovered hiding under bushes, in trees, in wasp-filled BBQ pits.
They ran, like a flock of birds, first this way and that in a tight little group. The bigger kids not letting the little ones branch out on their own, all the while remembering where they saw eggs missed by the group and quietly circling back to pick them up.
In the end, we don’t know if all the eggs were found but there was no crying, minimal cussing, and lots of mud.
We got a couple of group pictures and traipsed back inside.
All was quiet until I heard a whispered, “So, what does the winner get?”
I couldn’t resist. I just couldn’t. I had to say it, I did.
“You shall receive income from the Capitol for life!”
Not one of the grandkids got it…but their parents did.
This is from BuzzFeed, and Sheridan’s quote about airbrushing is perfectly eloquent and spot on.