Because it’s been far too long since you questioned my sanity.

<rambling post of awesomeness>

I have had way too much fun lately. In fact, I told John that I was pretty sure I’m going to die soon and this is The Universe’s way of saying, “Oh, hey, sorry about that…” ahead of time. A lot of times The Universe is a total dickhead, but I can imagine that maybe sometimes it gets bummed out about what a shit it is and tries to be cool to you to make up for it.

It’s kind of like how I pretend to be nice to John every once in a while when I realize I’ve been a total hole for months on end. Cause, you know, a few hours of not actually saying anything derogatory and smiling a lot can make up for endless weeks of torture and passive aggressive quips blended with just out and out aggressive combativeness and demanding, controlling, and manipulative domestic behavior.

God help him if he complains though; then I’m all, “DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE TIME THAT I HANDED YOU A NAPKIN WHEN YOUR FACE WAS DIRTY? I BLEED FOR YOU, INGRATE.”

Or something. But, basically, I know not to push The Universe and all, because it’s just doing the best it can, damnit. Ya dig?

So. Yeah. The Universe is clearly trying to be nice to me because it feels bad about my impending doom.

Either that or it is going to plan such a fiery, explosive and painful ending for me that getting me all complacent and mellow first will make things that much funnier for the bastard when it all goes down.  The Universe is probably sitting in a dark room rubbing his hands together, and he’s all, “This stupid bitch has NO IDEA what’s in store for her, man.  It.is.going.to.be.EPIC.  I am totally going to photograph the look on her face and Twitpic it when she gets hers. MUAHAHAHAH.”

Um. Wow, The Universe just went from being a maybe, kind-of dickhead to a completely sadistic psychopath in my mind. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve been into the caffeine again. Also the wine. Maybe a little of the blow powdered sugar.

What the hell was the point of this post? Oh, yeah. I’ve been having fun lately – making new friends in our neighborhood, going out with girls I actually like, and generally, well, not being locked in my house like a socially inept, loser ho-bag.

That is, I’ve been pretending I’m not a socially inept, loser ho-bag, and nobody is on to the deception yet, so clearly I am up for the next Academy Award. (note to self: do not marry Jesse James any time soon)

Last Wednesday, in another installment of Happy Fun Times I Should Feel Guilty About (don’t worry, I got mine) I went to an Open House at Beleza Medspa with some lady friends: Blythe (Aka @Bejewell) and Leigh. We needed to learn about ways you can change what nature does to your body, and instead, make it all fake and HOT.

Apparently, Blythe and Leigh were getting drunk for free while they were waiting for me to arrive late (people start drinking to cope with the fact that they miss me, I’m that awesome) (either that or they drink to cope with the fact that I’m about to arrive) and once I got there, we went to a back room to find out about the process of having your facial skin turned from haggarific to Goddess Sheen of Awesometasticness.

This process is also known, to lesser degree, as Let’s Burn Your Ugly Face Off. You’ll only have to hide in a cave for about 4-6 days while all the skin flakes off as if you have some horrible and contagious disease. But after that? YOU WILL BE BEAUTIFUL. It’s a metamorphosis. You have to let your inner butterfly out… by KILLING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT CATERPILLAR we like to call your real face.

I kind of started getting scared as we were led down a hallway to a back room. Partly because we were walking in the opposite direction of the free wine, but also because I was worried about what was really about to happen. What if we ended up in a deep well being told “it puts the lotion on its skin?” IS THIS HOW THEY REALLY GET THE NEW SKIN THEY PROMISE TO PEOPLE?

It turns out we were just going to hang out with Nathan in a small room, drink, act like complete morons and listen to him tell us about all the products he could sell to us that are totally made of Fairy Dust and Unicorn Shit, and will therefore MAGICALLY MAKE YOU PRETTY. The before and after photos were really impressive, especially the one where the woman was definitely dead in the before photo and was just about to receive the crown for Miss America in the after photo.

What I’m saying is that this stuff that comes in a 1oz bottle and costs only slightly more than a new car (okay, maybe I’m exaggerating JUST A LITTLE BIT) will totally bring you back from the dead.

I bet Jesus used it. I mean, have you seen photos of him? His skin was far too lovely for a 30 something who was out in the raging sun without SPF all the time. Also, you know damn well that he was wearing color contacts – blue eyes, MY ASS. Easter should really be celebrated by rubbing expensive liquid shit on your face. (Or hiding colored eggs, maybe, because we all understand how that has anything to do with Jesus.)

*blank stare*

After we annoyed Nathan for some time by making sex jokes, asking if he could just make us pretty and skip all the intelligent, scientific explanations and photos, and just all around being obnoxiously hilarious, Nathan rubbed random products on us. I’m not sure exactly why, maybe to prove that it wouldn’t melt our skin on contact? We giggled a lot and then smelled it. Don’t you smell everything that a strange man rubs on your skin in the back room of a place where they ply you with alcohol and ask you for your personal information the moment you arrive? No?

Well, I don’t get you at all.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that we were the most awesome people who were there that night, as evidenced by:

• our inability to just listen to Nathan, rather, interrupting every few seconds to make drunken jokes
• Blythe making her fingers kiss and say “I do” when Nathan put eye cream on them
• Leigh commenting about the hookers we were going to pick up later (what?)
• my responding to Nathan’s question about our lifestyle habits by saying (in a very charming manner, I’ll have you know) “I don’t smoke, my diet is good, I use SPF, but I drink LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER!!!, is that bad?”
• the fact that we considered just shoving the product in our purses and RUNNING LIKE HELL
• our inability to get more than 2 feet away from the place without loudly proclaiming over the Size XXL lips on Mega Procedures Woman (I may have thrown up in my mouth a little. I mean, really, your lips are NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE LARGER THAN YOUR ASS.)

Of course, then we went to a restaurant and ordered more drinks, because we were clearly far too sober to exist and more alcohol was necessary. Of course, just as we were all having the best time EVER I got this image as a text message from John:

at which time I immediately starting crying right into the nachos and possibly Blythe’s Margarita as well. There may have been snot on the fried green beans when it was all over. In case you were wondering, being notified of your child bashing his head apart all over your favorite Chik-Fil-A is just about the best way you can SOBER YOUR ASS RIGHT UP.

Leigh was all, “Uh, uh, I have to go pee!” and almost knocked the table over as she ran uncomfortably away, and Blythe was mostly like, “OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD.” Later, we all decided that John was a total shit for sending me that image with no text attached, and we all plotted his death.

[Watch your back, dude. These bitches don't play.]

Have I mentioned that I love Blythe and Leigh? No? Well, I do. They’re beyond awesome.

As we were leaving the restaurant, Blythe was all “I know you bitches are tipsy, neither of you has any kind of sense of direction, and you don’t really know where you are, but I hope you get home somehow, love ya, mean it” and dumped us in the parking lot and took off laughing. I was totally feeling like I might want to marry her right in that moment, and I’m sure you can understand those deep feelings.

And when Leigh was taking me home and suddenly said, “OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT, A PEACOCK?!” I knew that she is just classy enough to be my new crush. (But yes, it was a fucking peacock. Have I not told you about the peacocks that live right by us? No? Well, guess what. Peacocks. Right across the street. And they are LOUD. There. Now you know.)

I am a little pissed off, in retrospect, because the whole reason I went to Burn Your Facial Skin Off So You Can Be Prettier Palace was so I could learn about having lasers shot at my armpits and vaginal area. And NOBODY TOLD ME ABOUT LASER BOMBING MY HAYHAY.

Totally robbed.

So, in summation:

• The Universe is a dick but at least it throws you a bone every now and then.
• The Universe is a dick and it will smash your kid’s head in while you’re having fun.
• Your lips should never be larger than your ass. NO, REALLY. (If they are, I DEMAND you start sitting on your face.)
• My cooter is still in need of laser action.
• Jesus wore color contacts and used skin care products.
• My blood is probably at least 90 Proof.
• John should really be sleeping with his pistol under his pillow.
• Blythe and Leigh = awesome and I might have sex with them some day while a peacock watches.

So, how have you all been lately?

</rambling post of awesomeness>

photo credit: Dan Kamminga / CC2.0

tragic discovery at local park: peep down.

While enjoying a sunshiny day at a local Texas park last week, I made a tragic discovery. Like a train wreck, it both repulsed and attracted me.

We have a Peep down, people.

I repeat, PEEP DOWN.

Oh, the humanity.

The mushy, sticky, crunchy sweet goodness of this Peep will never be enjoyed by one of its many adoring fans. A moment of silence, please.

This post is dedicated, with love and gentle solace, to Megan, who may be the world’s greatest champion of Peeps and the first person I thought of when I made this tragic discovery. I know she will weep at this injustice.

Bright and beautiful, we remember her.

Every purplish flower I see makes me think of her.

I seem to see them all nowadays.

She just can’t stop making the world brighter, no matter what.  This website is purple for her during April.

We remember you, Maddie.

Love,
Lotus, John, & Braden

Hodgepodge of things to share…

First and foremost, there is a wonderful update by Peter Mayhew about Anissa – she is going home!  That totally made me cry big, fat tears of joy.  Please read the update and pass along the good news in any way you can – on your website, Twitter, Facebook, shouting from rooftops, etc.  We need to spread this – ANISSA IS GOING HOME!

The tweet announcing she’s left the hospital is here. RT that sucker!

Additionally, we need to do everything we can to  help them now, again.  The copays for her outpatient care are $100 a day.  Anything we can donate to The Mayhews right now will be of great help to them.  You can click here to access their Paypal donation page, or click the image below.

*****

Of much less importance, I have another two posts syndicated at Blogher: Falling Happens, But Jumping Takes Courage and The Not Good Enough Mother.  You may or may not have read them here, but if you have a chance, I’d love for you to check them out and leave me a comment over there.

*****

I’m also excited to share that I’ve started a new job as Nashville City Guide Editor at The Savvy Source. They are still looking for Editors for other City Guides (you’d provide regular info on preschool-age child-friendly activities in your town) for the following places: Berkeley, Charleston, Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Halifax, Honolulu, Houston, Indy, KC, Louisville, Memphis, Miami, Minnesota, Northern New Jersey, OKC, Pitt, St. Louis, Toronto, Vancouver. If you’re interested, Tweet @whithonea or email him

*****

I’m also contributing to Room 704 in its new, monthly format. (Officially, I’m Visual Editor/Cartoonist, but I’m submitting posts, as well.)  Check out the February issue!

Whew.  This really cramps my sitting-on-my-ass-doing-nothing style.

What have you been up to?

our regularly scheduled program will return after this brief period of bliss

I got this tiny bell in the HerStory Workshop today, at Blissdom. Isn’t it cute? Thanks to Aliza and Maya. The exercises they offered were thought provoking. And I discovered that the story of my life is entitled, “I haven’t screwed up too bad, yet. But give me time.” You’d buy it, right?

I also want to give giant props to the ladies who paneled the Writer’s Craft Workshop. I *thoroughly* enjoyed myself – what a great discussion. I had the beginnings of what I think is going to be a very good post in my hands when I walked out of that room Thursday evening. Thank you so much, Megan, Arianne, Deb, and Amber.

I’ll be heading back to the Opryland Hotel (can you say “friggin’ gorgeous?”) tomorrow morning and staying until Sunday (Weekly Winners may post late this week, but it will be up by Sunday sometime.)  Thank you so much, Monica & Bridget, for letting me share your hotel room.

Gotta go pack a bag now and get a little sleep before I hurry back over there tomorrow to hug on some more beeshes.

I love seeing so many women that I think the world of in one place.

Every time I hear a squee, an angel gets her wings.

Happy New Year, Beeshes.

It is the end of a decade full of a swirling mix of highs and lows – events, emotions, memories – for all of us, as is customary.  We are humans; this is our experience.  Thank you for letting me share pieces of myself with you, for supporting me in all the times when I came here and needed something, and for giving me insight into your lives and thoughts as well.  Humanity is alive and well, whether the world knows it or not.  I do.

May you all have the desires of your hearts this coming year, and in the new decade.

Love, Lotus

Running from my problems. Literally.

Some of you may remember the post waaaaay earlier this year where I admitted to you something that really was no surprise, considering I have mentioned how gross and lazy I have been on a regular basis.  Yeah, I’m talking about the one where I basically said, “I smell like forty ripe asses rotting in the sun.  Oh, and I have fat rolls that have fat rolls and their fat rolls are bigger than their fat rolls’ fat rolls.”  I’m not sure if that even makes any sense, but I wrote it out anyway, because I like the way it sounds.  You do too, you just don’t know it.

The point is that I had gained quite a bit of weight (enough to aggravate my joints and make my fat pants tight on me) and I wasn’t caring enough about myself to bathe regularly.  Unless you’d say once every week or two is regularly.  I guess it is, since I regularly waited that long to scrape the accumulated layers of sediment off of my body. (I swear I found a tiny, fossilized animal in one of the layers once. It was from the Cretaceous Time Period. I’d be rich if I hadn’t dropped it down the drain.)

By May, I was carrying a good amount of weight…

By the end of May, I was sick of myself.  I made a lot of changes (that really needed to be made) and turned my life onto a healthier track again.  Instead of drinking the local liquor store and grocery beer aisles dry practically every other day, I stopped drinking entirely for a whole month.

I hated every fucking one of you bitches that talked about drinking on Twitter during that time.  I wanted to stab you in the face.

Hahaha, just kidding!

No, really.

It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, in all honesty.  And during that month, I dropped junk food and excessive carbs, as well as late night eating.  You know what else?  I started moving.  And I had some support: people who motivated me by talking to me about what they were doing, listening to what I was doing, and just being there.  They lifted me up when I was dragging, and they celebrated my successes with me when I was floating.  That kind of support from friends is instrumental for me.  Thank you so much Leslie, Haley, & Karen.   I got my ass in gear and I started doing The Shred – downloaded it right to my computer and did it almost every day.  I added in some Yoga, too.

And the real killer for me?  I went to bed at a decent hour more often than not.  It was like a sign of the Apocalypse.  Or flying pigs.  Or that monkeys streaming out of your butt thing.

But mostly, it was a whole heap of positive change in my life that both cleared my head and dropped pounds of fat off of my body.

I lost 15 lbs in just a couple of months.

Then I started traveling.  Oy!  Chicago first, then NC, and before I knew it I was drinking and eating excessively again, and not exercising.  And sleeping? Hah, what was that?  I was up into the wee hours again.  For some reason, I love the wee hours.

I was still making half-assed efforts to exercise once I got back home, but it wasn’t adding up because I was being really inconsistent, and the other bad habits were still hanging on, blossoming even.

By mid-September, I was saying, “hello again!” to the last 8lbs I had dropped.  (And by “hello again” I mean, “awwww, shit, you again? Damn.”)

But I was in a funk.  The sloth in me was in charge.

By mid-October I had reached a point again where I realized this crappy way of whipping myself back and forth has got to stop.

I called on the cavalry again:  I’ve got Haley, Leslie, and now Mishi motivating me in a Skype chat regularly (thank you, ladies! I love you.).  And I’m trying this novel concept: moderation!

I cut way back on drinking, but I still have one drink most nights.  Junk food is out again, and healthy food is in.  But “cheats?”  Oh yeah, they’re around about once a week.

I’m *trying* to go to bed at a decent hour (most nights, and sometimes I’m actually successful) and I’m moving again.  I’ve been doing different things to keep it fresh -  Shred, Yoga, Dance, Walking.  I’ve lost that ugly 8 I gained back, and then some.  I’m feeling better again… lighter, smoother, and quicker.

Just this week, I started pushing myself to jog and run.

And then a little birdie named Leslie got on my proverbial shoulder and whispered in my Skype Chat ear: “Fiiiiive Kaaaaaay?”

And I said, “What, me? Surely not.”

But later in the day I said, “Why not? I can do that.  I am *going* to do that.”

And that’s where I am right now.  In total, I’m down 21lbs (and counting!) from my May 09 top weight, and I’ve built some muscle.  It’s time to tone, train, and build endurance.  I have a plan, some tools, and at least one friend to do this with.  I’m about to bust crazy and go for something I’ve never attempted before.

And I’m not talking about going one whole day without saying, “fuckbuckles!” (What, you don’t say that every day?)

It’s time to train for a 5K, my friends.

I plan on leaving a little piece of my funk behind me with every step.

Love & Help for Anissa

*For updates on Anissa, you can visit her CaringBridge Page.

~~~~~~~~~~

I was going to tell you about how great it is to have my laptop back and tell you a little about what I went through to get it fixed, but being on Twitter more again today led me to learn some awful news about a wonderful lady who is a friend and fellow blogger.

Anissa, of Free Anissa and Aiming Low, had a stroke this afternoon.

(This is her second. You can read about her first one in 2005 here.)

Often when you hear bad news about someone, the first thing you think of is that last time you talked to them or saw them in person.  In October, Anissa, Mishelle, and I spoke at a seminar and we got to share laughs and drinks together the night before.  It was a fabulous time because of the amazing company.

photo credit: Mishelle Lane, © all rights reserved

Anissa is such a fireball and, at the same time, just the most lovable sweetheart you’ve ever met.

This post, at Aiming Low, tells how you can help her and her family – especially if you are in the Atlanta area.  Please visit Aiming Low for this post as well as new updates on her condition and how you can continue to help.

(If that page won’t load for you, it may be getting hit with a lot of traffic, and you can go here for the information it holds, as well.)

If you have a chance, send Anissa love on Twitter – (her handle is @AnissaMayhew) When you tweet, you can use the #hashtag #prayersforanissa so that your messages join together with those of many others thinking about and supporting her and her family.

You can also show your support by changing your Twitter Avatar to a photo of you and Anissa together, if you have one.  If you don’t, you can still show support with your Twitter Avatar by adding a Twibbon to it.  There are currently two available:

For updates on her condition and to leave her and her family supportive messages on the guestbook, please visit Anissa’s CaringBridge Page.

You can also send her messages on or her Facebook page if you’re a friend of hers there.  And by all means, pray, if that is your way.  Remember, if you are in Atlanta, you may be able to help her family in a more practical way (see link above).

We are all used to seeing Anissa’s smiling face online and being entertained by her quick wit, her fabulous humor… and her magnificent rack. (She was First Runner Up in Bewb Fest 09, remember?)

Tonight, many of us are shedding tears and wringing our hands in worry.  She is being showered with love, lifted in prayer, and thought of all across the world.  There is hope, boundless.  There are jokes and stories being told in her honor.  We wait for updates and continue to push our strength out to her and her loved ones.

Anissa, there’s tons of love for you from all of your friends, all over.  We are sending you everything we can, and we won’t give up!  We all know you’d do the same for any of us.

Now get your ass out of that hospital and back here where you’re supposed to be making us laugh, woman.

We love you.