Cat Scratch Fever

After dropping Ruby off at Preschool and heading to Yoga, I passed this sign but wasn't sure that I had read it right. It just seemed too good to be true, so I quickly pulled off the road to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me. They were not. Imagine my delight in discovering our main highway in Hershey is in good hands.

The Beatles

According to Ruby, they are "John, Paul, George and Bingo. The one with the big nose."

It happened over eggs

So I got hit on today while buying eggs at a gas station (and that's a whole other blog, my friend) by a middle-aged Middle Eastern man who smelled of cumin...which smells like B.O. ...AND I WAS STOKED! This never happens to me and it's always been like this except for the occasional passing-by of a gardener's truck filled to the brim with whistling Latinos but that doesn't count. They'd whistle at the love child of Carrot Top and Janet Reno (being played by Will Ferrell.) And now that I'm married, the event is totally obsolete, which is fine - you can't miss what you never had.

I decided long ago in my pre-married life that I must put out a "don't talk to me" vibe or something because I saw girls get hit on all the time and it was never me. I mean, I'm aware that I'm not a supermodel by any stretch of the imagination but I consider myself mildly attractive with no unfortunate deformaties that would cause someone to head to the nearest trash can to dry heave into. So when girls all around me were getting flirted with by complete strangers, why was I not getting flirted with by complete strangers? I've come up with some reasons behind this never-getting-hit-on-hardly-ever theory:
1) I was getting hit on but never realized it (wishful thinking)
2) I'm a stuck up snob who thinks she's average looking but really is butt-ugly but never realized it
3) I was usually standing next to:
a) one of my boyfriends (who I fondly refer to as my "chain of fools" now)
or
b) one of my so-strikingly-gorgeous-you-just-about-fall-over friends or so-over-the-top-CUTE-you-just-can't-handle-it friends so I was always completely overshadowed
Yep. I think that's the one. Well today Plain Jane had herself a victory, my pretties. The stinky gas station cashier man made a pass at me over a carton of eggs and a package of Swedish Fish. How do you like THEM apples?

Awesome.

I am related to none of these people in the picture but I sooo want to live in this barn.

I'm still crying

Ruby: Do you nurse May-May anymore?
Me: No.
Ruby: Why not?
Me: She got too big.
Ruby: Are your boobies still full of milk?
Me: Nope.
Ruby: Yah, I can tell. Well, your bottom cheeks are still full of milk, though. Full, full, FULL!

Fun in Intercourse, Pennsylvania

Brandon's sister Sarah came to visit us for the weekend and we had a blast. She attended two of my spin classes and spun with the best of 'em, babysat the kiddies one night to let Brandon and I have a rare rare rare night out on the town, and we took her to Intercourse, Pennsylvania (yes, that's it's real name and yes, we made dirty jokes the entire time we were there) which is an Amish town. While we were in Intercourse (heehee,giggle,giggle) we took a 5 mile buggy ride through the Amish countryside where Ruby sat up from with our fake-Amish driver. I think by the end of the ride, Jebadiah or whatever his fake-name was regretted offering the seat to her - she talked his ear off the entire time and was constantly interupting his memorized yet educational commentary about Amish life. My daughter is very, very friendly. "Hi, I'm Ruby and I have Diabetes! Are you our driver? I love this buggy! What's that thing on the ground? Do you watch TV? Do you like cartoons? That's my sister May May. She's one. What's your name? What are your horses names? What's that guy doing over there? He looks like a pirate. Why do you have a beard? Do you like your beard?, etc." Anyway, we had a great time with Sarah and were sad to see her go. Good thing Christmas is right around the corner.

Toto, we're not in CA anymore

The agriculture in the background of this picture really proves a point...

Pennsylvania Graffiti

Even though I'm bitter towards Pennsylvania right now (get me out of this hill-billy state!) they do have some funny people. I enjoy this sign everytime I stop at it and on most occasions bust out some old school dance moves. Thank you Pennsylvania Graffiti person, for making my drive to preschool through the Pennsylvania farmland enjoyable.

The Hershey Crap Show

So I have busted my booty for the past 3 weeks making my bags - "Kinda Quirky. Little bags for little girls." - that was my little "business." Every spare second was spent making TONS of these things; I put my heart and soul into them, each one was different and unique from the rest and I did a good job. I'm saying all this because I failed miserabley. It started 3 weeks ago, I paid my $40 entry fee and managed to get a primo spot located in the center of the middle school gymnasium, worked my tail off and made 20 bags in all, neglected all other responsibilties pretty much for the following 3 weeks, got no sleep at all, constructed a really cute display for them to hang on, set up babysitters for my kids since Brandon was on call, loaded and unloaded (and then loaded and unloaded again when I got home) ALONE, hung up my beloved bags and waited for the masses to come but was sorely disappointed when the masses came, oohed and aahed over them, but then hung them back up and went on their merry way to buy their hodge-podge kitchy potpurri poop. Let me give you a mental picture of what the Hershey Craft Show looked like. A middle school with every hallway, classroom, cafeteria and gymnasium sectioned off into 5x15 ft. squares, designating each booth. Such booths held things such as Pittsburg Steelers fleece "no-sew" blankets, dried gourds painted like geese, croteched yarn "dish cloths", rock candy, New York Yankee stadium seat cushions, slap bracelets, dried flower wreaths, things made out of popcicle sticks and pipe cleaners...you get the idea: CRAP!!! Crap. Crap. Crap. I had several other vendors tell me that this wasn't the type of venue that I should be selling my bags at, but I should sell them at "high end boutiques" or "funky artsy farsty shows." That was nice, but what did that say about them and their products? Anyway, so that's my next step - hitting boutiques up and seeing how they do there. I'm also thinking about starting up a website, so we'll see. I'm posting pictures of a couple of my little beauties. Here they are. I THINK THEY'RE COOL. This isn't going to stop me. No siree. These country bumpkins aren't going to squash my little dreams. Hmph.