Gays everywhere should be offended.

While surfing Amazon this morning, a link to the right of the homepage is showcasing "Gay Pride" apparel. I thought to myself, "Wow! How progressive of Amazon!"

So I clinked the LINK to the Pride apparel.

Now, I'm not so sure how the Amazonian big-whigs sitting around a boardroom table came up with some of this shit, but if I were gay*, I would totally be offended. How presumptuous of the company to assume that these clothes are preferred by the gay community (granted, the douchebag community would love many of these pieces, but I digress...).



* Oh, Wentworth. (sigh)

I seriously wish I had something to blog about.

I've been wracking my brain for days, but it seems I'm plum out of ideas as of late.

We had chicken for dinner. I dipped it in buffalo sauce. Does that count as a topic? Hmmm... sadly, no. Because you people don't give a shit that Bill and I have started low carb. Again.

Hold the bun, plzkthxbai.

What about what I'm reading? Trust Me by Brenda Novak. I'm not far enough into it to really Roger Ebert it, so that doesn't count, either.

The cicadas are still bad. There's a carpenter bee boring a hole into my decorative shelf on the porch -- yeah, the same damn one that the doves nested in AND another dove nested in last week, but I scared it off and left the nest and one egg behind. That shelf? Is full of FAIL.

Oh, here's some news: Boo's HARDSHIP TRANSFER was approved. We got the official letter last week. She had "champagne" (sparkling grape juice. Actually FLAT sparkling grape juice left over from Derby) in a flute:

I think I'm more excited about it than she is. So she should be able to complete all 6 primary grades there, and I'll be an awesome PTA mom. I'm sooo the Lynette Scavo of the neighborhood.

TV sucks right now. And will until "Big Brother" starts in July.

Anybody else got anything good going on?

Attack of the Cicadas.

Right now, trying to walk through our backyard is like dodging bullets in Afganistan, except by bullets I mean cicadas and by Afganistan I mean Kentucky. The things are so freakin' loud we've got the volume turned up on the TV to 27. They land on you and are completely icky. I mean, I know the suckers only come around every 17 years (and really, how do they know it's been 17 years? Do they get a wake-up call from the concierge desk?) but apparently I don't remember the 1991 cycle. Ugh.

OMFG.

We're getting a LUSH counter at our Macy's. First, we got a Sephora. Now a LUSH counter. I might die from joy.

For those of you not schooled in the happiness that is LUSH, they're handmade face and body products and they feel sooooooo good. Like butterflies kissing my skin (ok, imagine me saying this in a high-pitched squeal after drink two martinis and now you get the picture).

Here are my favorite products (also known as The Ones I've Tried):

Helping Hands -- THE best hand lotion EVER. Melts into your skin, leaves no residue, doesn't feel like you just gave somebody a handjob (ew)... need I say more?

Buffy body butter. I've used sugar scrubs in the past, but holy cow. This one is AMAZING.


Angels on Bare Skin. I use this in the fall, winter and spring. Perfect year-round if you don't have combination skin, like me.


Herbalism. This is great in the summer, when the Kentucky heat & humidity screws up mah natural complexion. I know it looks like baby poop, but it is AWESOME for oily skin.


When I was in Minneapolis last week, the girls at the LUSH counter in Macy's introduced me to Coalface and some sample of a face mask which is upstairs and I'm too lazy to run up there and look it up ... but, regardless I'll let you know...

Recovering from Minneapolis in 10 Statements.

1) WTF was I thinking when I rented a convertible in f*cking Minneapolis? I did put the top down exactly twice -- after sitting in a Walgreens parking lot for 20 minutes trying to figure out how to work the damn hard top on the smokin' hot Sebring. The weather never broke 70, but that didn't stop me from going all Thelma & Louise on Mpls's ass.

2) Mall. of. America. Four hours, four floors, many dollars.
Here's the haul that I can remember off the top of my head, because ZOMG you would not believe the power shopping I did -- I was a shopping ninja (HIIIYAH, NORDSTROM!): a Betsy Johnson reversible tote; pair of Havaianas; black belted sweater; a Hanna Andersson outfit + an extra t-shirt for Boo; "My Kindergarten Year" book for Boo; Helping Hands lotion and assorted other bath products from the LUSH counter at Macy's; sugar scrub from Bath & Body Works; my dad's Father's Day gift; two Webkinz (shhh, don't tell Bill) ... My bag was stuffed to its max capacity.

3) Found sushi at the Mall of America. Was aiight for Minnesota raw fish that isn't a walleye.

Tiger Sushi from my phone's camera.

4) Spongebob is a hottie. The newly opened Nickelodeon Universe looks like SO much fun if you're a 12-year-old. Or Bill.

5) O'Hare SUCKS. Seriously bad. Our flight from ORD (O'Hare) to MSP was CANCELLED on the way up there... United stuck us on a flight that was actually EARLIER than our initial flight, but our luggage didn't make it. So they told us they'd send it to the hotel.

Fair enough. IF it mde it, right?

Not only did it make it, but the fine folks at the Sofitel had already delivered it to our rooms. Excellent.

O'Hare still sucks, though, and here's why: On our flight home, we were an hour late arriving into ORD. Our photographer and I RAN to the shuttle, RAN to the gate with 5 minutes to spare before boarding started.

And we stood there.

For an hour-and-a-f*cking-half. With only 12 seats in ONE gate to accommodate FOUR outbound flights. In a terminal that had absolutely no airconditioning. My sweat was sweating. It was crawling-through-the-desert-because-your-camel-died-from-the-heat hot.

We got home just an hour or so late -- I'm not really sure, I think I blacked out somewhere in there...

6) Why has no one told me out Super Target before? I walked through the doors and I swear I heard angels singing in the distance. The big ol' Awesomeness that is Super Target sells all kinds of upscale beauty products that I have to drive all over town for (such as Bumble & Bumble hair products and select Origins skincare stuff). And I bought Boots day cream and night cream in a super cheap set. You people with Super Targets better recognize what you got and own it.

7) Our GPS unit tried to take us from Blaine, MN to MOA over the 35W bridge, which collapsed last year. And apparently if you deviate from her directions, she will school you in humility, stopping just short of calling you a "non-driving muthafucka" (Bill's favorite insult hurled at poor, unsuspecting drivers). We took a detour through an unbelievably clean downtown Minneapolis and eventually she got us on our way.

8) Black socks with white tennis shoes. It's a don't, people. I'm going to print out business cards with that phrase on it and start handing them out at airports and malls.

9) While eating at La Fougasse, we were close enough to the kitchen to experience an executive chef barking out orders exactly like Chef Ramsay on Hell's Kitchen." I actually got little butterflies in my tummy hearing out "one scallop, one fillet medium rare, two potatoes, one asparagus!!!!" and then some semblance of "YES, CHEF!" from the cooks. So aspiring chefs, that shit? Is real.

10) I hurt. I have a blister on my toe, my back is killing and I can't get cooled down no matter how many showers I take. But the shopping? So. worth. it.

A thought on Webkinz.

Porkfat is NOT a Webkinz.

You know what sucks about Webkinz*? Getting your ass kicked playing Go Fish by an 8-year-old in Nebraska.


* I've bought 11 in the last two weeks. Bill has officially cut me off.

Damn cicadas.

Bill's grandmother turned 90 today. Not only has she lived through the death of JFK, Buzz Aldrin's* moonwalk and Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video premiere, but she also totally busted a move -- with champagne -- at our wedding in 2001. We had a party at a local park for her and DAMN. I hope I look half as good as she does. Woman drinks four pots of coffee a day. She still drives in day and lives alone. Country livin'? IS UNDERRATED.

Boo totally got freaked out by the myriad of cicadas that had infested the park ... one landed on her and you would have thought she got set on fire thanks to the SCREAMING. really. Charming.

I walked down to the lake and had a slice of bread I was munching on. I saw a few geese in the lake and absentmindedly tossed in a bite of bread and BAM! GEESE FLOCK!!!! So Boo ran down with a handful of crackers and tried to throw one in and the wind blew the cracker crumbs BACK INTO HER EYE. OMG. DRAAAAAAAMMMMMZ. Screaming, crying. Damn... those poor geese.

So, Happy Birthday to Nana. I won't try to explain my blog to her since the idea of Webkinz seems to kick her ass.


** Shut up, Ryan.