Oh My Gawd Sodagirl!

Archive for the 'Special Events & Stuff' Category

July 31, 2009

I turned 42, but don’t look at day over 41.

42

Did I say I turned forty-two? I meant twenty-seven because I lied last year and said I was 26 twenty-seven comes after 26. So, yeah, right.

Some of my family forgot it was my “special” day yesterday. Yes, I said “special,” because clearly it is if they forgot to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY. That’s just how “special” it was. Especially SPECIAL.

To the person who sent me a gift, woot!, thank you, LOVE getting mail that doesn’t require me to drain my bank account or my “services” will be shut off.

To the people who called me, thank you… means more than a present (but, uh, if you WANT to send me sompin’, yeah, DO IT).

To the handful of people who wished me HAPPY BIRTHDAY on Facebook, I do thank you – luckily, I get the messages in my email or I would not have seen them. I don’t do Facebook – much. Maybe once every few months I’ll get the gumption to sign-in, but other than that, I honestly don’t use it anymore. To those of you who are waiting for me to “friend” you, I will, the next time I sign-in. Like next Christmas or something. And to two of the Facebook birthday-well-wishers, I will SEE you in TWO WEEKS. Woot!

To the e-card birthday-well-wishers, spanx muchly (yes, totally real words, with real meaning, y’all).

To the email birthday well-wishers, thanks but I’m not sure I believe you when you said you TRIED to “attach” cash in the email, but it just wouldn’t work. Hotmail and Gmail were “not working properly” you said. Uh huh.

To the person who said they loved me so much (and will love me MORE once I make my first million), thank you for letting me know you are shopping at HOOKERS ACCESSORIES AND MORE for me. I bet it’ll be something special. And probably glittery!

So,you’re asking yourself, what has this clearly insane chick learned in forty-two, oops, twenty-seven years? Let me put you out of your misery.

1. When your daughter tells you, “Mommy, you don’t even look forty-two, you totally look, um, like you’re twenty-four (she’s really pushing it) and when my brothers tell you that you’re ‘old’ I give them dirty looks, just so you know mom,” what she really means is, “I’m totally sucking up bitches so I can get my own cell phone at the age of nine!”

2. When a 20-something dude calls you ma’am, he means it.

3. When you hear yourself say, “Oh, so-and-so and I have been friends for twenty-five years,” you want to bite your tongue off.

4. You probably shouldn’t wear the “JLo” glitter lotion you own, but fuck it, I’m going to anyway. See? At *cough* 42, you don’t care.

5. When your growns sons (see # 1) call you old, they absolutely mean it.

6. You’re at an age where you will most likely attend more funerals than weddings. Sad, but true.

7. It’s possible to become a grandparent (providing you have children), but don’t call me grandma.

8. It sucks when your doctor is way younger than you.

9. It scares the shit out of you to know you have been watching a particular soap opera for twenty-seven years. I mean, I don’t watch any soap operas. Like srsly, EVER.

10. You realize you haven’t learned as much as you thought.

Happy Birthday to anyone who is having a birthday this year. Ha.

Posted by Sassy @ 5:11 pmGlamourous,I want to Punch You in the Neck,Nonsense,Special Events & Stuff8 comments  

June 12, 2009

Top 5 Ways To Give Your Family A Heart Attack.

I love Top 5 Lists. Hell, I love Top 10 Lists, too, but I’m sticking to five. I’m lazy.

Here are the top five ways to give your family a heart attack. Be sure to have cpr training, just in case.

5. Sit them down and tell them you are pregnant. Not to heart attack inducing, right? Your husband had a vasectomy 10 years ago (sure, but sometimes they don’t completely take care of things… but…) and you had your uterus removed 15 years ago. And your tubes. And your ovaries. Oh, ya, now it’s an omigosh, I’m going to have a stroke kind of situation.

4. Tell them you met someone “online” and their nickname is ‘Bubba’ and he makes his living recycling beer bottles. So, right? You happen to be a nun. Nurse, get me the paddles, stat!

3. Tell your family you have sold your home and are making a “big move.” Big, freakin’ deal! Oh, but you’ve sold your current house for $1.89 (and threw in the furniture for good measure… including all of the antiques Aunt Bertha gave you, which you’re pretty sure were worth thousands, but it’s nice if someone outside of the family can enjoy them. You’re a giver, what can you say?). And you’re not moving into a new home, instead, you’re going to make a room at the Y your new living quarters, and to celebrate, you are going to host Thanksgiving dinner this year. Bring me the smelling salts, y’all.

2. Tell them you have sold your shares in the family business to Bubba (see # 4) and he paid you in empties, and are sinking all your remaining money in BETA video tapes, because you’re pretty sure they are going to be the next “big” thing. Dearly departed, we gather here today…

1. Move 3000 miles away from home, across the country, and six years goes by before you know it. Plan a trip back, but don’t tell anyone and just show up at their doors and surprise the shit out of them, thus inducing heart attacks and/or strokes, or at the very least, some fainting. OMG, is that really you? Get out! No way! OMG, look who’s here!

That’s exactly what I did last week – surprised my family members after six years of being away, but luckily, there was not a single heart attack or stroke! There was definite shock and the looks on their faces, priceless. It was so fun, but tiring. I functioned on about 2 or 3 hours sleep each night and with the time difference, it’s a wonder I didn’t have a stroke. Ha.

Posted by Sassy @ 9:13 amHoly Chit My Jaw Dropped,Just Stuff.,Special Events & StuffNo comments  






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