D-ultimate secret storage compartment

I am officially not the only woman in the world who uses her bra as alternate storage to a handbag. At 5am this morning I saw an "as seen on TV" commercial for the SECRET STASH. It's a change purse looking pouch that once full of what-nots, gets tucked into one's bra. I have been doing this for years. Since College actually. Dancing the night away holding a purse is not possible. Thus ... cleavage storage. Over the years it has been my go-to place for all sorts of items. I most often carry money, drivers license, ATM card and keys (yes keys) in my brassier. I do this daily. Other than jeans, most of my pants have no pockets. I cannot carry a purse and chase two kids. So, necessity items get tucked safely into my support system. Over the years I've gotten more discrete with "whipping" stuff out in front of people. Some find my ability to press the side of my chest and unlock the car doors (keys) quite amazing.

When my son was younger he knew I tucked his pacifiers in there when not in use. I often had back ups, too. If he was searching for his "paci" he'd know just where to look.

Once, after an evening out, Joe and I came home. As I disrobed, an assortment of items plummeted as they fell from my brassier. Joe said I appeared to be a pinata. Funny, and true!

Birds of a Feather, Yell together

This is not news. It's quite obvious to anyone who knows me and my girlfriends. We are all very similar with individual differences. However, an obvious similarity is our volume levels. We are all quite LOUD. Oh yeah, I mean loud. Just today I invited a friend to a nail appointment so she could meet and have her nails done by the most fabulous of manicurist (big shout out to you Milan & Andy). Milan and Andy have known me for nearly 12 years. They know some of my friends. This particular one they had not yet met. A silent, tall woman walked in and Andy asked, "is that your friend?" I replied, "oh no, she's much too quite. My friends are loud. You'll know her when she gets here. She will most likely make and entrance." True to form, my dearest arrived with an outburst of happiness and fun. So I guess it is true. Birds of a feather flock loudly together.

Read my ass

I know it's a trend. Juicy Couture has made it famous, but the written word across the butt of girls, teens and young women everywhere is just too much. So, I'm jumping on this rump shaking trend and starting my own line for us 30-somethings and older. Oh, don't worry ladies, your derriere won't spell out "cute" or "princess". This line will broadcast more realistic prose for us grown ups. Such as "Haute Mom", "stressed out", "on strike", "back off", "husband beater", "time out", "kept woman", "needs martini" ... you get the picture. You can even buy custom booty words so everyone at soccer practice knows you are "Trey's Mom". Just because our buttocks may be a little larger, a little less lifted is no reason we can't let our rumps do the talking.

If I had to voice my rear-end opinion today it would be, "butt wiser". I'd have it to match my Panther football gear. Ha!

BEAVER vs. GRAHAM

Let me first clarify I am a Beaver. A Bluefield High School Beaver that is. Yes, I momentarily went to Graham from grades K-3rd, but once sanity set in, I got back to the WV side of Bluefield. :-) (just kidding all my dear GHS friends).

Ok, some of my new friends have no idea about all the postings about Go Beaver, Beat Graham. Here's a quick summary. FOOTBALL, BABY. Home town, High School football rivalry. We're talking bonfires, car bashing, promitted vandalism (to the roadway and fences). Bluefield, West Virginia BEAVERS vs. Bluefield, Virginia G-MEN. Yeah, they are called the Graham G-Men. I don't get it either. Anywho ...

The kick off to high school football season begins with the Beaver/Graham game. Sadly I think the last game I actually attended was in 1992. 17 years later, it seems nostalgic that the rivalry and school spirit remains. There's a lot said for growing up in a small town. This is by far one of the best. Great memories today. I even pulled from the hanger my 1992 Senior t-shirt to wear. Abeit snug in places, but I wore it. Even had a photo taken and posted for my friends to see. That's spirit right there folks.

Lots of talk today about our 20th High School reunion coming up in a few years. I think it will be fun seeing everyone again. Maybe I'll drop some lbs so that too tight tee will be fit for public display.

_____ is just a number

Happy Birthday to me. I am ____ years old. I don't look ____. I certainly don't act ____. I still listen to hip-hop and pop music. I don't know all the cool, funky, hip and happening slang, but I can figure out the meaning if used in a sentence (with decent grammar). ____ years has both flown by and stood still. I think I have achieved a lot in my ____ years. Education, work, home, marriage, family. I am happy being ____. I really don't mind the number, it just doesn't sound good. Makes me sound old and I'm not. I still do goofy things with my friends. We giggle and have sleepovers. I'm sure we'd do some prank calling if it weren't for that dumb caller-ID. I like doing all the same things I did at 25. I think the only difference now is I have some wisdom to accompany the youthfulness. So. Happy ____th Birthday to Me.

Marriage done right

Once again I am helping a dear friend mend or move on from a cheating spouse. This is the third of my dear friends to plummet from their husbands extra-marital indiscretions. Currently I am unsure of the outcome for the third marriage. The previous two ended in divorce. I can honestly say I was glad. I have my doubts about returning to marriage after infidelity. Maybe I haven't mastered forgiveness. It makes me stop to look at my own marriage. Joe and I have been together 16 years (1994) and married 14 (2009). We have been married longer than any of our friends. We've watched our friends marry, divorce, marry again and even divorce again over the years. But, here we are.

Don't get me wrong, we have our tiffs and arguments. I can count 3-4 doozies. None over really significant subjects (in a big scheme of things). Yes, I threw a kitchen chair about 40 feet and past his head, but I call that an "attention getter". Moving on.

I think Joe would agree our marriage has not only survived but flourished because of a few reasons. First, we never tried to change each other. Now, that doesn't mean I wouldn't LOVE for him to actually change his habit and USE the laundry hamper next to his pile of dirty clothes, but I mean we never tried to control the other or made demands of the other. We allowed ourselves to grow and change together. Accepting those changes and enjoying them.

Secondly, we never lost our individual selves in our marriage. I still don't like going to Nascar races. Joe goes twice a year with his friends. He has no interest in scrapbooking or disco dancing. That's cool. He goes to the races, I go on retreats with my friends (and dance when ever the mood hits). I like having my own time. I like giving him his own time, too.

Thirdly is TRUST. Yeah, I capitalized it. It's a biggie. We trust each other completely. Completely. There is no need for doubt. No reason for it. Joe used to go for week long trips to Las Vegas with some folks. It always happened around our Anniversary. Every year someone would ask me, "You LET him go to Vegas without you?" My answer was simple. YES. My follow up answer was more detailed. "I don't LET him go anywhere. He chooses where he goes and what he is going to do. We make each other aware and verify schedules, but there is no controlling." Nuf said.

I hate when I hear people say, "Marriage is work." I agree you have to work at being married, but it shouldn't be "hard work". If it's that hard it may not be worth it. As far as the infidelity, I don't know why these men cheat. They can use any excuse they want, but it comes down to them being selfish, weak and having no respect for themselves, wives or children. Joe and I have agreed that if either of us ever feels the urge to attract a relationship outside our marriage we will end our marriage first. Not that we anticipate that ever happening, but we have discussed it.

Sometimes I look back on getting married at 20 years old and thinking, "Whoa, we were just kids." Then I stop and think that we were young, but we weren't kids. We knew what we were doing. Obviously. We've done it right.

got balls?

I am fortunate to have balls. "Balls" as in guts, nerve, spunk, grit, temerity, brashness. Today, I was all balls. The Post Office employee told me she would not sell me a $10.95 stamp to affix to the FLAT RATE postage box. Why? We want to weight it first. Why? It's a flat rate box. It's $10.95.

I told the lady (new I think, and unfamiliar with me as a regular customer), "I've been getting the pre-printed postage for nearly 10 years now. I use these in my job. " She wouldn't budge. I replied, "OK". Took 15 feet to the left, inserted my credit card into the self-check out machine, printed two $10.95 postage stamps. And smiled largely at the lady behind the counter, ticked.

Then, in the parking lot as I approached my van, a man thew a lit cigarette out his car window with it landing at my driver door. The tobacco stick was only 1/2 smoked. Meaning the flame would burn for awhile and cause potential hazard. I picked up the lit smokie and handed it to the man saying, "Is this yours? It's still on fire. You might want to finish puffing on it or properly extinguish it. Unless your intent was to leave burning refuse on government property where persons or property could be at risk."

The man, about 50-ish, stared in embarrassment and disbelief. The lady parked on the other side of smoking man could not stop laughing. I got in my van and left (I waited to see that the man properly disposed of his cigarette).

Balls. Got 'em, Use 'em.