Shoot

Lip pimples; they are the worst.

Nobody can tell if they are a pimple or the herps.  And nobody wants to walk around looking like they have the herps on their face, youknowwhatimsayin?

Also they hurt the worst.  The lips are a sensitive part of the face, and having a little pimple right on your kisser is quite painful.

I should know.

I woke up with one this morning.

So if you see me, be a doll and 1) don't mention it, and 2) know that I do not have the herps.

Peace out cub scouts,
Granny

SAHM 2

This four and a half day holiday weekend has done nothing but confirm my desire to be a stay at home millionaire.

Hope you all had a wonderful and safe and joyous and perfect holiday weekend!

More to come tomorrow.

Love,

Bubbie

Giving Thanks

In case y'all haven't heard, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.

While I may complain a lot and have a large laundry list of shit I am NOT grateful for (please keep your eyes peeled for my second edition of "Shit I Hate" coming soon), tomorrow is a day to reflect upon what I am grateful and thankful for, and there really is a lot.

I am grateful for big ticket things, like that Mr. G and I both have our health.  Not only that, but for the most part, our families and loved ones do too.  We have not one, but two working cars that allow us to travel.  Though our apartment may be fully carpeted and no where near as nice as some (most) of our friends' places, at least we have a place to call "home."  And not only do we have a little place to call our own, but we have a two bedroom place, and it is warm and dry.  We both have jobs, and though they are not making us rich any time soon, they are bringing us a steady income for which we are both thankful.  We have gone on two major vacations in two years.   And we have our friends and family, of which we love so much.

And then there are little every day things that I can say I am thankful for.  The second bathroom in our condo.  Soft, oversized sweat shirts.  Pandora.  All Apple products.  Harry Potter.  Sephora.  Hot baths and good books.  Red wine. Pinterest.  Blogs.  Pedicures.  Headlamps so I can run in the dark.  Indian food.  Chinese food.  Noodles.  Email.  Tampons.  Contacts.  Fall inspired scented candles.   Skype.  Nail Polish.  Nail polish remover.  Lemon zinger tea in the morning.  Leggings.  Sweatpants.  Any pants with an elastic waist band.  Flip flops.  Affordable earrings.  Mr. G cleaning off my car.  A nice card in the mail.  Macaroni and cheese.  Bath sheets/beach towels.  Volumizing hair spray.  Farmers Markets.  The radio.  Unlimited Free Texts.  "Friday Night Lights."  Gchat.  OWS.  A clean house.  Cake.  Our troops.  Good old fashioned books (you know, with pages).  Easy to manage house plants.  Wooly slippers.  Running socks.  Sharpies.  Birth Control Pills.  The list goes on...

I wish you all a wonderful, safe, happy, and delicious Thanksgiving.  Cynical and sarcastic Granny will be back shortly.

Until then,
Bubbie

Romance

I just returned from a weekend away with Mr. G.  We had planned a very romantic weekend at the lovely Hyatt Regency right on the waterfront.  (And by romantic I mean...a weekend away at a waterfront hotel.  We are not the most romantic couple.  I think romance is when Mr. G scrapes my car off in the winter.) It was all lovely, except nothing the Goodwins plan can go off without a hitch...

-GPS told me it would take 3 hours and 51 minutes with traffic to get to Newport.  It took six hours.  Fucking traffic.
-Traffic makes any couple in a car together pissy.  Here is how the last three hours in our car went:

"Can you please slow down!?  Those people are stopped up ahead!"

"That car?  The one with the break lights on a good mile ahead of us?"

"You should switch lanes, our exit is coming up in a couple of miles."

"Do you want to drive?"

"I am so cold, can't we turn the heat on??"

"You touch that heat button and I will kill you."

"I can't find any radio stations I like."

"Stop changing the channel every 30 seconds.  For the love of god."

-By 7:45 am on Saturday morning--the day I had planned to sleep in until 9:30--some parents had decided that their adorable toddler needed to get his energy out in the hallway outside our room.  Which he did by running up and down the long hallway and yelling and singing for 45 minutes.  TO THE PARENTS OF THAT CHILD, may you get hives and have a week of sleepless nights.  

-Mr. G felt that since he was already awake, that turning the TV on until I woke up was a good idea.  It was not.

-The mansions we wanted to tour cost $40. 

-Ok, we can pay that so we have the opportunity to get some good pictures of us in the mansions.

-Oh wait, no pictures in the mansions?!
-The toll was $4.  We had $3.  Big debacle ensues.

-Sephora was out of my lotion.  Curse you, Sephora.

-Sephora still had the mascara I wanted.  Which I grabbed.  And 5 hours later when we got home and I unpacked I realized I DID NOT GRAB THE MASCARA, I GRABBED A $30 EYELINER INSTEAD THAT WAS MIXED INTO THE MASCARA CONTAINER.  (Did I mention the closest Sephora is 2.5 hours away?  And I am desperately in need of new mascara that does not come from the Wal Marts?)

whatthemothafuck?!

Despite all of the unplanned, pain in the neck, annoying little problems that arose over the weekend, the Goodwins had a fantastic little weekend away with lots of fun, laughing, shopping, rum, and even a little romance.

Off to daydream about Thanksgiving!

Love,

Bubbie

Happy Friday

Last night I kicked my weekend off right and because of that I am very hopeful that this weekend in its entirety will be nothing short of epic.

After some inspiration from Mike Tyson, the Goodwin household has implemented "Pizza Pthursday" (not to be confused with "Taco Tuesday"), which coincidently is now my new favorite thing to say.

Combine Pizza Pthursday with two other of my favorite things, and last night was glorious.  The two other favorite things?  A holiday visit from Mr. Brockway (deep in the heart of Texas), and Youtube.

I can spend hours on Youtube just playing around.  Instead of linking you to the top 20 videos granny loves (laughing babies, funny kids, silly animals, Marcel the Shell with Shoes...), I thought I would just post the one we three watched last night on repeat 4 times.

Ah, nothing like lovely, classy, perfect evening of PBRs, pizza, and acid tripping lizards.

Happy Friday, y'all!

Granny

Halp?!

Why hello.  Welcome to my slightly updated blog.  I think it looks more mature and professional now, yes?  No more distracting images or background to take away from my all important blog posts.

However, after fucking around with Blogger for a good hour now, I still need some help with four little things.

First readers to help gets...cookies.  I will send you some cookies.

(But not really.  I will just love you unconditionally and mention on you this here blog.  That is just as awesome, right??)

Ok, first thing I need is a picture or something to spice up my title.  HELP.  I know how I can add a picture but I don't know how to make that shit look good.  And I don't necessarily want a picture of me, but just something fun to add a little oomph to my page.  Please, someone, send me DETAILED, step by step directions, complete with pictures and words so my 4 year old cousin could do it.  Not that he is going to, but that is just my level of skills when it comes to computer and internet and web design--that of a 4 year old.

Second, if you will observe, the title of each post is in gray.  Which is fine and dandy.  Except I want it in black.  Every other section of my blog I can chose what color the words appear.  But not for my Post Titles.  Whatthamothafuck??  Help a sista out.

Thirdly (which my spell checker informs me is a real word), I want the information on the side bar, such as the list of blogs, to show up in black.   I know, boring and unoriginal.  But the blue is just random and out of nowhere.  I have gone back to check eleventy million times (which spell check has informed me is NOT a real word) and I did not chose blue as the color for this to show up.  So where in the heck is this coming from?

Lastly, and by far most importantly, all I want for Christmas is 100 followers.  NOT GONNA HAPPEN, Shaun John.  Get with the program.  But, maybe 50?  And then for my Birthday I could ask for 100?  Can y'all kindly follow my blog if you're not already?  Or send my blog out, now that it looks all profesh., to all of your friends and their friends and their friends' friends??  Not to be super desperate, but...I'm super desperate.  I just wanna be one of the cool kids.

Ok, that is all for now.  Thank ya kindly for listening, and hopefully helping a sister out.

Lots of Granny love.

Side-eye

I got the inspiration for this post from my cyber friend Stephanie, who has done a few posts about her pet peeves and things that she simple doesn't understand.

Because I am not as nice as Stephanie, I am simply going to make a list of things I hate. 

Sorry for the negativity so early in the work week, just wanted to put it out there so the rest of the week can  be all rainbows and puppies and shit.

1. Skanks.  Y'all know what I am talking about.  Skanks have been taking over my Facebook wall for weeks now.  Trashy tattoos.  Over plucked eyebrows.  Groomed facial hair.  Smack talking all over my news feed.  Cut the shit, kids.  Grow up, put on some clean clothes, don't drink until you black out tonight, and calm your tits.

2. Fake tanning.  I know, I know--back in the day, I had two experiences with tanning beds.  I went a couple times before my vacation to Florida.  I ADMIT IT.  But that was before spray tanning was readily available.  Now it is, it is safer, and you won't look like, well, A SKANK.  Because tanning beds and skanks go hand in hand.

3. Dropped calls.  What the what?  I fume just thinking about it.

4.  The Facebook app on my iPhone.  Only works about half the time.  How am I supposed to keep up with the skanks?

5. Speaking of Facebook, men, this one is (mostly) for you--I know it is hunting season and you are proud of your kill, but really, between all of the posts from the skanks all I see are dead animals. 

6. Slow drivers in the fast lane.  JUST GET OVER.  Do NOT drive in the fast lane if you are going any less than 71 mph, unless you are strictly passing a car.

7. When pants fit in the morning, but by the end of the day they are all saggy and wrinkly in the butt and crotch.  

8. The word "crotch."

9. The 5 day work week.  I want a 4 day work week, a 3 day weekend.  I don't even need it every week, but maybe every other??

10. Racists.  Even more than a straight out racist, I hate people who say they aren't racists, but then say something racist and follow it up by saying "no, I'm not racist, I have a black/indian/Muslim/hispanic/jewish friend."

11. This is stolen directly from Ms. Stephanie, but white people with dreadlocks.  This is not the 90s anymore.  Get on with it.  We get it, you're alternative.

12. Anyone who is opposed to gay marriage.  LOVE IS LOVE, people.

13. Dreaming about work at night.  This is completely unacceptable.  Especially on a Sunday after a wonderful weekend.  Weekend considered ruined due to these dreams.

14. Carpeting.  Especially wall-to-wall carpeting.  Especially in our condo.  

15.  People who are skinnier than me and eat like crap and never work out.  Could make a grown woman sob.

16. Uneven lists that do not end in a "0" or a "5."

Bitches, I'm back

Sweet sassy molassy, I am done with my whirl-wind trip of America.  Seven cities visited in 3 weeks, and an equal number of pounds added to my waistline.  Thanks, airport food and all disregard for anything healthy.


I am back in the saddle and so looking forward to a couple of months without major travel.  Regular exercise, making my own meals, back on the double dub train, working from a desk, doing regularly grocery shopping, watching FNL with my man, washing load after load of laundry...it all sounds so appealing right now (please remind me of this when I complain about how boring my life is in 3 weeks).

Before I dive back in to my regular, boring, busy (for now) life, I thought I would share one last story of my travels with you.

The scene: Earls Bar, Denver, Colorado.  The cast of Characters: H. Keane and myself.

Here we are, sitting at our table near the bar, exhausted (please see: two all nighters in two weeks), ready to leave and hit the hay.  When the bartender walks over and says "Are you 21?  These men at the bar want to buy you some drinks."  I know, I was as shocked as you.  Me?  Greasy haired and all?  I was flattered, especially when the bartender said "Those men at the bar think you are the most beautiful women they have ever seen.  And I agree." (Again, seriously shocking. Even though it was a bold faced lie and an obviously desperate attempt to get laid.)  We agreed to the drinks and the bartender returned a moment later with...wait for it...two shots...of...BAILEYS.

Because nothing says "You are so hot, let me get in your pants" like an Irish whiskey and cream liqueur.

Off to resume my granny status,
Shaun John

No antacids here

I took a vacation from my lame ass life and pulled TWO ALL NIGHTERS IN TWO WEEKS.

That's right, folks.  You read that correctly.  When granny is away from the home base, she goes wild.

Night one: LA with one Lindsey Fout.  Shit was magical.  My alias came out and yes, I was an Internist from Dartmouth.   Drank gin gimlets, met many a fun folk, ate street tacos, and met a Hebrew Hammer look alike.  By 4 am we were loading ourselves into the Subaru and were off to LAX.  God bless my 8 hour flight so I could catch up on sleep.

Night two: Far more wild.  H.Keane and I hit up Nawleans. Dueling pianos.  Karaoke.  Hurricanes, Long Island Iced Teas, and (blue) Greatful Deads.  High heels were worn.  Wormed my way into wearing the staff uniform at an Irish bar and met a black leprechaun.  Was chaperoned by my AARP card-carrying boss until 2:30 am., when we encountered  male strippers.  At 4 am we crawled our way back to our rooms, got 45 minutes of shut eye, and then headed off to the airport once again.

Now in Denver; let's see what kind of shenanigans we can get into here...

Peace out, granny status. (But not really.  I'm far too old for this shit.)