What I Did This Summer

Apparently, my law practice has really started to take off, which is a good thing, but it has left me with very little in the way of large blocks of time to write. Not that I necessarily would if I could. Lately, when I get a large block of time, I waste it with sleep or devote it to the important business of watching one episode after another of Hoarders or Mystery Diagnosis on a Saturday afternoon. I complain that there is never enough time for all the things I want to do. I whine that there are just not enough hours in the day and that I need to learn how to get by on less than six hours of sleep each night.

Today, with about 73 things on my To Do list, I stayed home with a supposedly sick kid who, it turns out, is just fine except for maybe a touch of strep throat that has yet to make its presence fully known. This morning I thought, well, it’s good that I brought my laptop home from the office so I can get some work done. Did I? Not really. And when the cleaning people got here, well, we had to get out of the house, right? I capitulated. Threw up my hands and had to laugh at the thought of even scratching the surface of my Everest of obligations. What’s one more day of getting behind? Oh, and we have Labor Day coming up. Great. Another 24 hours I can’t spend working. I feel like I’m swallowing the ocean while trying to keep my head above water. And all I can do is talk myself down off the ledge every day and tell myself I can do this. Am I biting off more than I can chew? Wait, do I really have to chew? Can I truly fake it till I make it? So many people depend on me. So many clients have put their hope and faith in me, and I can’t let anyone down. Failure is not an option. Fear is not an option. I always say that fear is failure. I know I’m capable, but the idea of implosion is always brewing, especially when my ADD starts acting up. But I digress.

So, rather than deal with the cleaning people under my feet, I took Katy to Justice and bought her some new clothes, including bras and boots that are about my size. She’s 10. Oh and didn’t that make me feel better.

My point is, with all the ocean-swallowing and A&E watching, I get only occasional snippets of time to be creative and express myself. And, fortunately for all my Wastebook friends, I pop in fairly regularly, albeit for a few fleeting yet quite magical moments, to make my presence known in the form of delightful status updates, well-constructed and good-natured insults, and as many sexual innuendoes as I can scatter about like sparkling glitter confetti in my readers’ otherwise humdrum lives. So, because I have spent the whole summer not blogging, I thought I would reprint here all the things I did write. I’m all about recycling. And getting as much mileage out of my mediocre material as I can. So I apologize to my loyal Facebook friends who may feel a little déjà vu. Just consider it a free second helping of dessert.
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I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: “God is great, beer is good, and people are crazy.” . . .

My dinner. Mt. Fuji roll at Sake Cafe. . . .





My friend Keith. Obnoxious Texan. Gotta love it. . . .






Saw a red Mercedes with personalized plates that say “RED BNZ.” Oh, I get it. Your car is a Mercedes Benz and it’s red. . . .

Just pigged out @ Hard 8 BBQ, Stephenville, TX. Good meat!






When you ask a 13-year-old boy to take the stuff from the washer and put it in the dryer, you might want to specify, “Then turn the dryer ON.” . . .

My new favorite shirt that I spent too much money on. . . .






My kids and I are wearing our American flag T-shirts from Wal-Mart with tags that say “Hecho en Guatemala.” God Bless America. . . .

This is what my computer looked like this morning when I tried to get busy working on a brief. Like I told the I.T. guy, I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue. But he fixed it remotely in very little time so I could get back to the business of saving our veterans from the evil V.A. Thanks again, Dwayne!! . . .

My 10-year-old daughter took it upon herself to borrow my razor and shave her legs for the first time. I told her, “You’ll be sorry. Now that you started shaving, you’ll have to keep doing it.” She said, “Why? You don’t.” . . .

One of the best American novels ever written. Even though some say Truman Capote actually wrote it, I love Harper Lee. Had to buy the anniversary copy because it made my heart pound when I saw it. (Yes, I’m still a geek English major.) The quote (by Charles Lamb) at the beginning says, “Lawyers, I suppose, were children once.” Atticus, Scout, and Boo Radley are my heroes. . . .

In my relentless effort to make myself more appealing, my “muffin-top” shall henceforth be known as a “cupcake-top.” . . .

The older I get, the more often I thank God for my awesome personality. . . .

At Cracker Barrel with my daughter and her friend. The girls order chocolate cake without the ice cream. Confused waitress: “It automatically comes with ice cream.” Katy’s friend: “Then can we get it on the side?” Challenged waitress: “Well...I guess so.” Me: “How ‘bout you just leave it in the kitchen?” It was a Cracker Barrel miracle. . . .

My daughter just hurt her leg really bad jumping into a river. I’m following an ambulance right now. . . . Thanks for being here, folks. I pity the fools who don’t have FB to be able to get info out to so many so fast, and get instant support, thoughts, prayers, and smiles. I’d have otherwise felt very alone. Katy’s on her way home with no broken bones and just a hellaciously ugly deep bloody gash across her leg. Can’t wait to see what kind of drama she milks out of this one. . . .



Trinity University’s cleverly-titled “Tiger Sculpture.”










Finally figured out how to tell the difference between Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez, then realized I didn’t care. . . .

Any SA friends want to go with me to see Mat Kearney on 8/15 @ White Rabbit? This song has one of the best lines ever: “I guess we’re all one phone call from our knees.” . . .






Walt Wilkins. One of the very best songwriters ever. If it weren’t for Walt Wilkins, there would be no Pat Green. My favorite line in this song is, “I crossed too many lines trying to crawl out of God’s hands.” Good stuff. . . .




Watched Clash of the Titans with the kids. When Perseus cut off Hades’ hands, Katy said, “Look, mom! No hands!!” I don’t know where she got that sick sense of humor. . . .

I’m not a big country music fan, but this video is so good. [Kenny Chesney’s The Boys of Fall]. See how many famous players and coaches you can name. Come on football season!

Yet another priceless photo of my son at his church youth group retreat. All that Bible learnin’ just got him plum tuckered out.










Today I heard two of the most mispronounced words in the English language. Take note, folks: “Mischievous” is NOT pronounced “miss-chee-vee-us.” It is simply “miss-chiv-us.” And “sherbet” has only ONE “R.” It is NOT “sher-bert.” Say it wrong to others, but if you talk to me, say it right, or you will get a mental “F” in English from me. . . .

I wish my office had an emergency chute and an intercom so I could make my temper tantrums more dramatic and share them with a wider audience. Good thing I’m not a flight attendant. Or for that matter, a nurse, waitress, child care worker, or postal clerk. The general public is much safer when I limit my human contact to drive-through windows and nail salons. . . .

My sister just lost her two-and-a-half-year-old dog to a heat stroke in a matter of hours. He had plenty of shade and cool water, but the heat (in Oklahoma) must have been too much for this big teddy bear. Pay extra attention to your dogs when they are outside and just know that it can happen without much warning. RIP, sweet Gringo. . . .

Today’s lesson: Do NOT utter or write the so-called word “irregardless” anywhere near me or I will unleash a fit of rage the likes you have not seen since The Exorcist. Webster’s says: “Its reputation has not risen over the years, and it is still a long way from general acceptance. Use ‘regardless’ instead.” Save yourself a syllable, and quite possibly our shaky friendship. . . . And while we are on my favorite subject, “Your” is a possessive pronoun and “You’re” means “You are.” And “Its” is the possessive form of the word “it.” Notice the lack of apostrophe. “It’s” is short for “It is.” Read it. Know it. Live it. Have intercourse with it. Eat it like a vitamin. It’s good for you. . . .

Heard “Don’t Stop ‘til You Get Enough” yesterday. I told the kids, “This is the good Michael Jackson music from before he was white.” Katy replied, “Oh, you mean when he was still a dude?” My heart swells with pride to see that I’ve instilled such cultural literacy in my children. . . .

Got my son a new Call of Duty Wii game, then noticed it had an M rating when his other CoD games were rated T. I asked him what was different. Katy said, “More blood.” Luke said, “Mom, it’s just animated blood; it doesn’t even look real.” Lesson: Real blood=Bad, Fake blood=Good. . . .

I guess it’s a little late now to get my kids into a so-called routine before school starts on Monday. Slacker moms, unite.

A friend said I reminded him of this. That’s good, right? . . .








Need to clone myself to get some work done, but I’m afraid the other me would really get on my nerves. She’d always be one-upping me and insulting me in her clever yet caustic way. Plus she’d want to borrow my clothes, my kids would like her more because she’d play with them, and my husband would want to sleep with her. Bitch.
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So that was my boring summer. Glad it's over. Bet you are, too.