No Thong Zone

Did everyone have a great weekend? Oh, mine was another adventure, but that's for another day. Let's just say a trip to the vet and my dog apparently has a hemorrhoid like her mother. It's true. Dogs get the dangling death or the equivalent of them like in humans, so she also has problems with her anus. We are a team. Apparently, my dogs and I share so much. Last month, I had to share maxi pads with the one on her period and now the oldest lab has anal seepage. We are NOT sharing the same medicine. I love her so much but I am not giving up my Prep H. Call me selfish, but she can drag her ass and make it feel better. I, for reasons only known by God, cannot do the same. This is just delish. But back to the original story. 

Last weekend, I had to go exchange some jeans that I had ordered on-line. You remember those flared LC jeans I featured in my blog? Well, the jeans and fluffy didn't get along so I tried to return them for another size, but to no avail, other people seem to have a fluff problem, so I just got my money back. Figuring I had $34 smacks, I would look around. I see this cute dress for summer but only on the mannequin, so a nice middle aged lady came over and I asked if she could get it down. I look at it and am pretty convinced I will buy it since it was $21 smacks and then she says, "well its pretty sheer, you  might want to check out our intimate department and get a t-strap to go with it." Huh? A t-strap? Why in the world would I wear a jock strap with this dress. So I said, you mean a thong? She said, "yes, those things that young women wear so they have no panty lines." Looking at her like she had four heads, I mean she was a blue hair telling me I should wear a thong, knowing she probably has on exactly what I have on...granny panties, I wondered over. 

Let me tell you its been years since I wore one of those t-straps. I think after a certain age, you just don't and second, she obviously didn't take a gander at my milkshake. I put on a thong and I am sure it would get lost somewhere amongst the massive cinnabons I am lugging around. Plus, I need something a little tight across thy skin because when I walk, it looks like two pigs fighting over a piece of cornbread. I carry the dress across the store, go  take a peak. Memories started to pour in and I then remembered distinctly why I don't wear them anymore. First, my butt crack doesn't need dental care. Second, with the current ailment, I don't think it would be a healing process to wear it. 

I browse through a few and then it brings me back to the time, a few of my fabulous friends went to Atlanta for a girls weekend. My aunt, cousin and I stayed in a room together. We ended up at Coyote Ugly. Several drinks and shots later, we come back to the hotel after dancing enough to be the spot light of the original show and the hotel. We go to get dressed for bed and my cousin goes to put on her pj's, I look up and she has on this matching lime green bra and thong. All of the sudden I blurted out, "oh my god your ass looks like it just swallowed Kermet the Frog!" After many minutes of uncontrollable laughing, snorting and silence with laughing again, we passed out from exhaustion from the giggles. That's when I gave up the thong. See I had worn one that night as well and all the dancing and repeated digging the next morning was uncomfortable, but seeing someone else's butt swallow a granny smith apple put it perspective. I never looked at my own butt to see what it looked like but seeing her butt, I realized, there is nothing beautimus about anyone's hiney. It's two mounds of dough divided by a line a fabric. I, from that point forward entered the "No Thong Zone." I tried boyfriend undies once but because my butt looks like a busted can of biscuits in them, they just rolled up on the sides and those went to the trash. These underwear are only meant for horn dog men, to look pretty and be gone in two point two seconds. They aren't for long term use. 

So, I wandered back over to the section, put the dress back and walked out. I am trying to convince myself that the dress could be worn without the usage of a t-strap, but because the help even mentioned it, I was detoured. Sorry, Kohls, but Mee Ma helped bring back painful memories and you lost the sale on that day. I may be back or order it on-line that way when I receive it at home I can throw on my granny panties and walk around to see the jiggle factor and shine a light on the dress to see if you can observe my wassa or not. 

I am proud to have entered the "No Thong Zone" even if it makes me un-hip, not sexy or it saves one frog in this world.

Happy Monday!

Dusty 

Hola Saturday

I know, don’t fall out of your chairs. I don’t usually blog on Saturdays cause that’s family time. Although I set at my computer half the morning and catch up on blogs and comments. But I sometimes have to because I am appreciative that anyone even remotely mentions me in their blog. Being a sweet southern bell, you say thank you.  So today is a day of thanks and fun stuff. Take a gander at these lovely ladies. They are awesome!

First let me say thank you to Grace over at Grace Loves Iggy blog. She bestowed the Liebster Blog award to me. I love receiving this award. So sweet. She has a adorable family and I love her little boy’s name is Iggy. How cute is that?

Next my baby face Anna at A Sweet Southern Mess gave me the Sunshine Award. She is so sweet. So here are a few facts about me. Make a note. I am so complex with these answers I don’t know if anyone will ever understand me..HA!

My favorite color? Pink, what can I say, I am a girly.

Favorite animal? All animals. I love animals. I’d rather set a human on fire than an animal. I currently have two wonderful beasts. Yellow labs, Mille and Libby.

Favorite number? 6

Favorite non alcoholic drink?  Mt.Dew, my kidneys say thank you.

Prefer Facebook or Twitter? Either/Or. Since I have been blogging, I prefer to read interesting people. Facebook tends to get catty because people think what you post is about them and it’s not. Twitter is fun because its instant update.

My passion? Life.

Prefer getting or getting presents? Both, I didn’t say I was Saint Mary. And I am not going to lie and say, oh, it makes me feel so much better to give than receive. We all know that but sometimes its nice to be appreciated.

Favorite pattern? I am a hippie girl at heart so I like all the paisley mix match patterns. I can say for sure that large strips aren’t my friend.

Favorite Day of the week? Friday.

Favorite Flowers? I love roses. The yellow ones with the red/orange tips.

Finally, Katie over at The Lee Family Happenings sent the SevenXSeven award my way. This pretty lady is too sweet, has the cutest little boy and is pregnant with her second child. Oh, and she is 2 pounds soaking wet pregnant. I was a whale when I was that far along. Really, they Free’d Willie when I got pregnant. Thank god for diet plans. So here are my SevenxSeven.

7 Facts

I have naturally curly dark brown hair, but I put the kibosh on the brown and now I pretend it’s the color of Jennifer Aniston's.

I am not really from Hoboken, but I pretend that I am.

I hate to shave my legs, but I do it.

I am currently obsessed with redoing my house.

I love to cook

I don’t sugar coat anything. I usually speak my mind.

I love taking photos with my new iPhone.

7 Posts

NoLonger Friends.

Whatif?

NoWaxing in my Future

HeyHomeslice

Baconand Cheese Bread Bowl

TwoCents Thursday

Myweek in Instagram and Pixlr

So there you have it. Thank you so much to these beautiful chicks. I am humbled every time I receive one of these. I feel accepted into blog land. I sorta didn't follow the rules. Sorry, I have a hard time picking blogs because I think everyone is great. 

Happy Day everyone!

Dusty

Conversation with Dusty

Hello, Friday, I heart you, forever. I wish I had a trapper keeper and I would write it on there with a big heart around it. I have a few things I wanted to post on this day, but instead I thought I would share some funnies for the weekend. 


So, don't think I am a whackadoodle, but I have been obsessed ever since I saw the picture of Whitney Houston in her casket. Has anyone seen it? National Enquirer posted this picture of her that someone took. First, yeah, it's not nice but curiosity killed this cat and I totally looked. I wasn't wigged out by the thought of her lying there. I focused in on her hair. I know, really Dusty? Yes, I am so pissed off. I mean she was kind of like Elvis. I thought I would see her all fluffed up with a white jumpsuit and cape instead her hair is swirled up like what us crackers would call a french knot and she's got on a purple Barney dress. So, to validate my craziness I enlisted a few of my friends in the conversation. Here's how it played out.


Conversation #1 with Becca who knows me probably better than anyone, so believe me this doesn't surprise her when I ask questions like this. Plus, she is one of the calmest people I know. She sometimes looks at me like I have four heads and most of our conversations usually end with her saying "you ain't right."


Me: Have you seen the picture of Whitney in her casket?
B: Yes
Me: Did you see her hair? It's awful.
B: You not a fan of the bee hive?
Me: No, who would do her hair like that? I am going to ask my cousin Rachel. She knows everything about celebrities even down to Brad Pitt's birthday.
B: What's wrong with knowing celebrities birthday's? Jon Bon Jovi's birthday is coming up.
Me: I know he shares the same birthday with someone else I know. 


End of conversation. Total fail. Happy Birthday Becca. I love you so much! Today is her birthday. She and Jon Bon Jovi.


Conversation #2 with Wendy. My wonderful friend who drifts as much as I do. But she to understands my sense of humor. And starts a conversation when she calls you on the phone exactly where you left off from text.


Me: Did you see the picture of Whitney in her casket?
W: No, I only saw seen of scenes.
Me: What the f..k is a scene?
W: Of her in the bathtub.
Me: Well, I will send it too you.  I couldn't send from my phone but she ended up finding it. (2 hours later the phone rings..remember what I said in the opening sentence)
W: So, yes. I saw it. She looks awful. 
Me: Who would do her hair like that?
W: Well, this is what they did. (Being a hairstylist starts describing how they styled it)
Me: I don't give a rats ass how they styled it hun, who authorized that hair style?
W: Have you got your motor running? 
Me: Where are you at?
W: At home talking to Harley.
End of conversation, that ended with her talking to her cat. Total Fail.


Conversation #3 with my cousin Rachel. Rachel is full of useless knowledge. She is just as enthralled with celebrity smut as I am. She to understands my conversations. We have them often. We are cousins and best friends. She also has 3 children. Saint she is. 


Me: Have you seen the picture of Whitney in her casket from the National Enquirer?
R: The only one I saw was from the National Enquirer.
Me: Duh, Yes, that's it.
R: You know Bobby Brown took that picture.
Me: I don't care about who took it. Did you see her hair?
R: Yeah, its kind of 50's looking.
Me: Who would do her hair like that?
R: Well, I think she has someone that always did her hair.
Me: But why would they make her look like one of the Supreme's? (insert lots of laughter)
R: Uh, yeah. I don't know.
Me: I think they should go dig her up and redo her hair. She should look like a superstar. Call someone to come and give her some beachy waves then put her back.
R: Uh, yeah. Did you see that interview with Lindsey Lohan?
Me: No, she's a puffer.
R: Oh, girl you should look it up. They want her to play Elizabeth Taylor in a movie.
Me: I will have to look it up. 
R: You need to look it up. Don't forget tornado's tomorrow on Dr. Seuss's Day. 
Me: Yeah, Ian has to wear pajamas. 
R: Yes, well, I gotta go beat my children now. 
Me: Okay, love you.
R: Love you too.


Conversation ended. Total fail. Although we did agree she needed a different hairstyle and there was a long silence when I said she needed to be dug up and her hair redone. Oh, well, this will just have to be something for the record books because I got no where. But they understood because it came from me.


And finally, for Shaylynn. I heard yesterday Snooki was pregnant. After reading Shay's blog yesterday and snorting out loud. I decided to share my favorite Snooki moment.

So if anyone is wondering, I think the baby daddy is a tree. Seriously, when the kid is 2 he will be taller than she is right now. 


Thus ends conversation with Dusty. I hope everyone has wonderful weekend. 

Hugs,

Dusty

I Believe

Today, I am forgoing my usual Two Cents Thursday post and linking up with Anna at A Sweet Southern Mess. She is a doll baby! Love her! The linky party is called A Beautiful Day to Believe. I love this because the one word journey thing is going around and although I didn’t join in the fun, I have commented on some blogs with this word. “Believe” is a word I always come back to. It will be tattooed on my wrist before the summer is up. It’s the one thing that I have told myself over and over. You just have to “believe” and everything will be the way it should be. But here are a few other things I believe.

I believe in Santa Claus, Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy. What you don’t? Why not? Let’s take this outside right now! (I am a mommy I have to believe in those things and its fun).

I believe every female at birth should be issued a full length mirror. There will be a time in your life where momma can’t look at you and say, “you aren’t leaving the house looking like that.” Seriously, birth, name engraved and carry it with you for life.

I believe in girl power. Am I a feminist? No way. Why in the world would I wish I had a penis and boobs? And, I can’t burn my bra because I can’t afford anymore, but I do believe that women should build each other up, not tear each other down.

I believe in Owning It. If you screw up, own it. Admit mistakes, say you did it, I am sorry and move on. The only time I disagree with owning it, is when you attack someone’s character. If you result to name calling and you’re supposed to be friends, then you cross a line. Friends fight, but not with ugly names.

I believe in hugs and kisses.

I believe in Karma..100 percent!

I believe in love and the power of it- bad and good.

I believe I probably won’t like my son’s girlfriends when he gets older. What? Don’t set there and say you will support all his decisions etc. I didn’t say I wouldn’t, I just have this mentality right now that, he’s mine. I have marked my territory; pee’d on it, did the dog burn out and covered him up. Of course, he is only 7, I got time to mellow out.

I believe in Preparation H and Tucks pads.. if you’ve read my blog last week you will know why. This may be only a temporary belief.

And finally, I believe in life. The right to chose it, the Heavens above and what all it throws at me. I believe we are put here for a reason, but what we do with our life is of our own choices. Is there fate? Is there destiny? I don’t know. I just know that at this moment I have what I need (with the exception of Hunter boots). I was given a gift, my son. I just have to believe that his future will be full of happiness and love and whatever comes on this ride, I will see through his eyes.

Happy Thursday Friends, Link up,

Dusty

Spring Fever

This weekend we took Ian to the toy store. He got enough money to pay about 4 bills and we talked him into saving it and going to the big Toys R Us. After a total of thirty minutes in the toy store and and half the money spent, we headed to the mall. 


Every where you look its Spring. So I thought I would post a few things I found that I am finding yummy for spring and summer. In Tennessee, we usually go straight to summer and have about 1 month of spring before it turns into a sweat lodge.

this adorable dress from Hollister

can you say, take me on a cruise?

these adorable wedges from AE

these are on my list, perfect with jeans or shorts

to satisfy my hippie girl urge

AE

color jeans

I don't own one pair but after seeing these

I better get a pair to be at least somewhat hip
and look like an Easter egg

AE

seriously no joke

I could wear a hat every day of my life

so the one on the right is mine all mine

AE

Source: ae.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

I should have grabbed this bag up

the leather was soft and light weight

AE

I came out of the mall empty handed which only made it worst. I have said how I love window shopping, insert dad face. First on the list would be the shoes. I am always on the hunt for summer shoes. Sometimes, when I find a pair I like I wear them a lot (like every day). Well, that's of course until I decide to shave my legs and wear a dress. Then I wanna slip on something cute. 

I pinned a ton of great things on my Pinterest this past weekend including some of the items above. Come follow along won'tcha?

Do you have spring fever? What are you itching for or is in your wardrobe for this sunny season.

Happy Wednesday everyone!

Dusty

linked up the pleated poppy and rolled up pretty

Birthday Partay

We had Ian's birthday party a couple of weeks ago. Yes, I am a terrible mother, I am just now getting around to posting this. A few people have emailed me (cough cough, you know who you are) about posting about my kid more. I will get around to that, but right now all he does is these ridiculous funny faces, so every picture I have of him looks like he either tooted or he's picking his nose on purpose. 

We had a theme birthday, I mean up until your Sweet 16, all kids birthdays are themed. After that its, pray to baby Jesus to be 21 so you can get plastered legally. Oh, the things some kids think about. The nerve. Oh, wait that was me way back when. I had my days of drinky winkies, but now, not so much. Wine every now and then, I like a good Sangria, but I don't like the hangover the next day. I am a total light weight and proud of it. I drifted.

So his birthday invitation said, Your Invited to Ian's Winter Olympics Birthday. Poor kid, born in February. I couldn't have gone into heat any other time to have him in the summer so he could have a swimming party or pony rides. Nope, I had to pop him out in the dead of winter full of snot and viruses galore.

Let me say this, making small children on command do certain tasks is fun. Kids will do anything for candy. It's like a bad game of Simon Says. Dusty says, "stand on your head and fart the star spangle banner" and if you have 3 Hershey kisses, 5 blow pops and some Twizzlers, putty in your hands. So, we had sack races, pin the tail on the donkey in which I spun them around like tops, the duck walk which all these kids cheated at, marshmallow toss which was hilarious; flying marshmallows, and pinata bust. The pinata was hilarious. "Duh" held the rope and moved it up and down. These kids swung like they were hitting in the major league. After a few spins around (yes, lots of dizziness but that what was fun...FOR ME). Whack! After about 20 minutes the box broke and $60 dollars worth of candy. No that's not an exaggeration. $60 smacks, these kids grabbed their buckets like ants crawling towards a bread crumb. 

I made homemade chilly because it was well, chilly, hot dogs and birthday cake. It really was fun. I was totally satisfied being Simon. Seven kids listening to my every word, all for candy in a box. I can't even get my family to clean up their mess much less quack and walk like ducks.

 here is my little crew

that's my kid in yellow with the funny face, proud mom I am

birthday boy

the marshmallow toss

this was the highlight 

Ian and my oldest nephew won both rounds 

sack race
I think she was the only one who stood up
they all fell on their faces...fantastic

bye bye pinata
yes, he's a baseball player, can you tell
my youngest nephew Turner finished off the pinata
I was running and taking cover
he clobbered it but I didn't get a picture (sad face)

marshmallow champs
Wes and Ian

adults in on the candy action

and finally my favorite picture
look what I got, socks and underwear
room is full of kids and adults and he opens a pack of boxers..LOVE IT!

So you saw just a snippet. My camera which I got for Christmas and still have yet to figure out was set on some setting I obviously was too stupid to change. Oh, well, I had fun and thank you to everyone who came, the gifts and for letting me control your children's minds if only for an hour.

Tuesday fun,

Dusty

Ok, fluffy time to get down to business

I made a few New Years resolutions which I never do. Why? Because I never follow threw. I make them, follow them for a while and then think, I am on this and then done. Since turning 40 last year, I have thought about getting in some part of "shape". I ain't no spring chicken and  I want to be able to feel and look good. You know that part of when Ian has over his friends and they go, "your mom's hot" and he is riddled with embarrassment. Last year I lost a ton of weight. Not that I needed to. Really only about 10 pounds, but it turned into about 20. I have put back about 8. But because I am dumpy, it really shows in my thighs and fluffy. 

So fluffy and I have had many talks. But apparently talking to your bum does nothing. What she is saying is get off of it. Well, its hard because my son has baseball this spring which means practice and games and then homework etc. You know the same excuses most women make. I don't have time. But I am so serious about this now. Summer is coming and I want to go to the beach in a bikini all though even if I lose the weight or get in shape I may still sport a tankini. Hey, a girl still has insecurities. 

So, I sat down Sunday devised a workout plan. My sister and I bought the Tracy Anderson Metamorphosis DVDs. We went on line took the survey and low and behold it told us both that our plan was for Glutecentric which means we got back in a nice way. The work out is devised to target those areas that seem to be a little chunky in the monkey. But because I tend to get bored, I am mixing it up. I am starting out slow because its been about 7 years since I have been to the gym. Note to self, teach son how to dial 911. I have 5 workout plans each day something different. It consists of a little hodge podge of things I mixed from researching Pinterest and knowing what types of exercises I like to do. I also bought a timer at the grocery. That way it the bell dings, moma is done. Plus, I needed it, I put crap in the oven and check it every 10 minutes because I forget to set the timer on the oven and have no clue what time I put something in. You know multi-purpose. 

Also, when I was going to the gym, you know way back when, I took a class where it was a mixture of step and kick boxing and I loved it. I really felt it in my butt and thighs, so fluffy is going to feel the burn whether she likes it or not. 

I am going to take it slow starting off with some jumping rope, jumping jacks, squats, and crunches. But every day is going to be something different including Zumba and walking. If I do not look like a cracker by June, I may flex out like the Hulk. 

Here are some of my ideas. I am taping my schedule to the refrigerator and keeping a journal. I also bought some healthy snacks and more fruit. But listen, I ain't givin' up my Mt. Dews just yet or thy peanut butter, so work with me here won'tcha?

Source: shape.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

I saw LeAnn's workout in Shape magazine a long while back and have kept the pages torn out. So, thinking, oh what the heck, I will tweet her and ask if she still does her boxing regimen because you never know if this is real or just some BS Hollywood crap for a magazine and she tweeted me back with @DustyAlley Boxing is THE BEST. So cool right? And it seems she's still boxing. Twitter feed lately is of her workouts. I hope she still posts her updates, so I can have ideas.

Source: tonedcurves.tumblr.com via Girls Love on Pinterest

This is the workout with the jumping jacks, squats, push ups, crunches etc. I am mixing it up a bit and throwing in some jump rope and some 3 pound weight lifting for arms, but I think this will really be beneficial to me.

So combine this with some walking to enjoy the fresh air, Zumba to dance my booty off and the Tracy Butt method. Look out hospital ER here I come and the wait time better be less than 9 minutes.

I would love to hear your fitness routines. Fill me in or tell me what you think would be beneficial.

Happy Monday,

Dusty

My week in Instagram & Pixlr

Happy Friday to all. Hope your weekend is filled with lots of fun and pictures. Here is my week in Instagram and Pixlr. 

yummy candy at the party store

Peek a Boo! I see you! Pixlr pic

these puppies where setting on my door step Friday 

when I arrived home, LC hooker heels

this lot of makeup for a total of $16 smacks

the blush is amazing, great knock off of

Nars Orgasm

thy workout once the "roid" goes away

sister and I are on our ways to the bikini 

Tracy Anderson Metamorphisis

So there you have it. A fun week and I love looking at all the photos on Instagram. Follow me on Twitter to see all my photos. Happy Weekend!

Hugs,

Dusty

Two Cents Thursdays

If you have followed along this week, well it’s been interesting. It’s not been a rock your socks off type of week really, but worthy of a few two cents. Here what I am pondering this week.

My weekend started out with a birthday party for my son. He turned 7. We called it “Ian’s Winter Olympics Birthday Party”. The kid was born in February. Prime time snot season. So, I wondered how many people would cancel. I actually at one point asked “Duh” why he couldn’t have knocked me up so the child could have a warm birthday party filled with pony rides and slip-n-slide. But it turned out to be a great crowd. The kids did sack races, marshmallow toss, pin the tail on the donkey and a piñata. I love children. You can get them to do anything. So much fun watching them fall flat on their faces, bean each other with marshmallows, twirl in circles and get dizzy to bust a piñata and pin a tail on a donkey. Suckers!!!!!!!!!!!! But geez busting a piñata takes forever. It’s like the owl on the tree when he says how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop..three. Well, not a piñata, and $60 dollars worth of candy later, it was sugar high for all involved and no need to thank me parents. Your welcome and lose my address when your kid needs a new grill when his teeth rot out from the bucket o’ candy he or she received.

The weather here in Tennessee is crazy. Snow Sunday, pea size hail on Wednesday and 67 degrees today. It’s the apocalypse, I swear.  I don’t know whether to kiss a snowman or bring out the Daisy Dukes and wash my car like a bad Whitesnake video. (Gawd, I think I just told my age)

Did you read my blog yesterday? Well, a little update...I didn’t insert the bullet just yet. I am trying a homeopathic approach. I stay home and not go down that path just yet.

And finally, did anyone watch the Whitney Houston funeral? I did, in the midst of party planning, I was glued. I cried at the end. I mean how long does it take to bury someone? That bastard Bin Laden shot dead, thrown out to sea for shark food and wallah! Done like a New York strip steak  in a day. I think when I go; I want to be carted around in a car like the guy from Weekend at Bernie's. Remember that movie? Put me some sunnies on, lip gloss, tape a smile on my face and let’s go for a drive and maybe some volleyball on the beach if this is the new standard to funerals.

Hope your week has been delish! What’s your two cents today?

Hugs,

Dusty

Sounds like a personal problem

Ok, so I am going to write a post about something very personal. I don’t know how many of you have ever experienced it, but I am going to go there with it because not only is it hurtful, its kind of funny.  A few weeks ago I got violently ill. On top of praising to the porcelain god and calling him Ralph, I also praised him with the toots of what I am sure was a tuba in the marching band. After all that happened, I noticed that something wasn’t right. Setting at my desk one day I got very uncomfortable. I felt like I had a stick poking out of my butt. I squirmed and couldn’t get comfortable. After talking with “Duh”, he said, “honey, I think you have a hemorrhoid.” I was like oh, no. I was pregnant, swollen up like a whale, gained 40 pounds and walked like a duck, and didn’t get those things.  I pride myself on being the only pregnant girl who didn’t.  I said, “no you have hemorrhoids’, not me.” Yes, he has had hemmalites as my son calls them since he was young. Once when I got so pissed off at him I knew the only way I could get him back was to put rubbing alcohol in his precious bottle of Tucks pads. The poor guy came out of the bathroom running around the house saying his ass was on fire and I had to get in my car, drive down the street and call my BFF because that was the ultimate revenge. Needless to say, I was proud of myself and have always been proud that I can have every ailment there could be at one time or another but dangling butt ornaments weren’t one of them.

Fast forward a few weeks later and I was setting at work and all of the sudden it came again. I absolutely couldn’t stand myself. I gave in to the possibility and at lunch rushed to the local pharmacy and there it began. The shelves of butthole relief. I picked up every package. Read it. It wasn’t like maxi pads. There was no heavy, light, and medium flow. No super, panty liner or overnight selection. It was buy me and insert into anal area. I mean “anal area” it sounds so volatile. I decided on Prep H because it’s been around for 100 years. I mean they must be doing something right. I went back applied and went back to my chair.

As the day went on, I became a 3 year old, squirming in a shopping cart at the grocery ready to get out. I sat to the side, on my legs, stood up and down. I mean if someone was paying attention it might look like I was giving a sermon on Sunday because all I kept saying was, “oh, gawd, this is awful.”  UP down, up down. I call my husband, he intern keeps telling me the same thing; when you get home insert bullet and go lie down because you will have leakage. LEAKAGE! YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT LEAKAGE! Screw him, I call my friend, W and she then tells me the same thing. After thinking there could be a possible conspiracy between the two of them, I hang up and think why in the world couldn’t I have gotten like a boil on my butt cheek, or a tumor growing out of my forehead? Why is it that I have to have the forbidden condition of hemorrhoids’.  I want to call the doctor but I don’t want to have to answer to the lady that answers the phone, “Yes, I’d like to make an appointment to see the doctor.” “What’s the nature of your visit?” “I have dangling death hanging out my ass!” Ugh, seriously I am not equipped.

As I write this, I don’t know what the outcome will be. I have pulled out the package of bullets, read it, and although the sound of relief is like dancing fairies in my head, I am not sure what I will do. Yes, it’s probably a lot of information, and you are thinking, she did go there, but you know we all experience something in our lives that is probably forbidden to talk about. But really, we’re friends right? Sharing is a beautiful thing. I just became Dr. Oz didn’t I? No matter what, I gotta do something. I gotta set on fluffy all day and the feeling of blazing knives being extended from “the region” isn’t as fun as the magic show and some nice girl throwing them. It’s life. I got a condition.. literally a pain in my ass!

Happy Wednesday friends!

Dusty

I wonder

There are days when I feel just like a robot. Same ole same ole every single day. Get up and ready, tend to the kid, work, come home, dinner, chores, bed and wake up and do it all over again. I often daydream. I think we all do. It’s like, when I can’t go shopping because the monthly bills are due and I really would like something new, I still go, just to window shop. I love to window shop. I often can be satisfied, if I just go in, look at the items, try them on then leave. Although it makes me want them even  more, I know there will be a day when the sale rack calls my name.

I used to have a well paying job where I didn’t have to worry the stress if I bought a new pair of shoes, but since the recession, that’s not the case. Everyone’s needs always come before mine. I did just recently by a few things, but with gift cards and a little tax money, I got a few things I have been dreaming about, with the exception of those Navy mid-calf Hunter Boots which you will hear about until they arrive on my doorstep.

I wonder what it would be like to have all the money in the world, then I could live like a soap opera star. Get up, go to the gym, hit the mall on the way home and not stress about saving my money because some bill is due. Hell, who am I kidding, with all the money in the world, I could ditch the gym and have some plastic surgeon suck the fat out of fluffy and I would be tight as an unused rubber band.

I wonder what it would like to be tall, so I wouldn’t have to have every pair of pants altered. Most of the time I don’t. If mom can’t do it then I just let them drag the floor or wear heels. The worn look I tell myself is in.

I wonder what it would be like to dye my hair back to its natural color, dark ash brown. I have tried once but it freaked me out because I have highlighted my hair so much I felt like a different person. But I see these women with this beautiful dark hair and it’s shiny, tossing it around like a high priced hair shampoo commercial and I think, oh, the less maintenance would be nice.

I wonder what it would be like to have brown eyes and boobs. I have family members that have dark eyes. They are so intense. I have family members that have big kahoona’s. They say they hate them, I just want to try them just once.

I wonder what its like to be a PTA mom. I will never be a PTA mom. I don’t like clicks. I cuss too much. Baby daddy got too many tattoos and looks like a walking coloring book, we wouldn’t fit in with those type of people, that their every breath is what little Johnny does every second of the day. I want Ian to grow up being humble. We praise him, but I want him to live in HIS world not a fantasy world I create for image purposes only. So much of that goes on now. I love my son more than anything, but I got a life. But I know I will never be atop the phone tree.

I guess I could wonder all day long but the facts are these. I am happy. My life isn’t perfect. People aren’t always accepting, I have the necessary things I need. My body is my own temple how I nurture it is my own conflict with my head and getting off my ass (see I cussed). How I look is the way I was born. If people find me beautiful then I am in awe of that. I am not conceded, nor vain. But I am proud that I am not Cinderella by day or night. So, I guess for me I can wonder all I want and its okay because the mirror reflects me and what I see is, Dusty de.

What do you ever wonder? Does it ever cross your mind, but you realize it’s OK, just to be who you are? Let me hear your daydreams.

Hugs,

Dusty

Plain & Simple

Being from the South, there has always been a standard of grace, good manners and beauty. Southern women are known for the image of always being the bell of the ball. When I was younger, I can remember my grandmother standing in the bathroom fluffing her beehive that could have put Marge Simpson to shame and drawing on her eyebrows with precision. Women have been taught that image and how you look is almost insistent when it comes to the public eye. My mother’s generation and generations before that never leave the house without their face and hair perfect not knowing who they would see out and about. A secret society of sorts. You work all week but on the weekends you never know who you would see at the local grocery or drug store.

To this day my grandmother or my mother do not go out without some type of “war paint” as my grandfather called it on their faces to venture to Wal-mart. I mean seriously its Wal-mart, who cares! But they do because it means you might see Betty Jo who’s married to the only insurance agent in town and you might have to discuss what took place at the Friday night football game or who’s child is now divorced..oh, the shame.

Growing up especially high school and my twenties, I had the same mentality. My face was covered in “war paint” and my hair had enough Aqua Net on it that if a match was lit within 2 feet I probably would have burnt to a crisp. Image death by hairspray. It’s seriously a wonder the girls of my generation weren’t toxic with the sprtiz and chemicals on our hair we inhaled and I should honestly have stock in Agua Net extra firm hold in the white can with the pink label. Of course, now I realize I had to wash and style my hair everyday because after shellacking my hair with that stuff, you couldn’t get a comb through it the next day and the dried flakes it made in your hair was disgusting. We didn’t have dandruff it was “the spray.”

Today, I still "war paint" myself up when necessary but if I am not going out, this chick doesn’t put on a stitch of makeup. I could care less who I see in Target because I hate going to Wal-mart. I’d rather be hit in the head with a wet squirrel than go there. I don’t dress up to venture to the grocery. And most days on the weekends, you will find me in a hat and ponytail because really, I am flat ironed right out. I actually have crazy curly hair. No not Taylor Swift crazy just naturally wavy hair that if blown dry naturally, me and Buckwheat from the Little Rascals could compete. Don’t get me wrong. I am a sucker for makeup. I love it. Just bought a whole lot of it recently (sucka). I have at least 5 curling irons, one for each type of small, medium and large curls I can twirl for beachy waves. I have enough hair products to make my hair stand up on its ends and now have learned the art of dry shampoo. But I am now realizing that beauty does come with without all the brushes and strokes. A little powder on the nose, some mascara and lipgloss and out the door I go. Let’s not get any wires crossed here, I think I look like death eating a cracker without my war paint, but I also see all these beautiful women barefaced and think gosh I wished my skin looked like that. So sometimes you gotta just let it breath and if people don’t love you for the inside then the façade on the outside will eventually break down.

I took this picture with the new phone just messing around. I posted another one on Friday that had been edited with software. But this photo really made me think about my clean, plain skin. I had no makeup on, I think a little mascara. But still knowing that I don’t get all gussied up like my grandmother or my mom, as a southern women I still apologize for not looking like a million bucks every single day. It’s just a southern thing, its second nature and I don’t think that will ever change in my generation or the next.

“To bare your true self is to see yourself in the purest form”.  Happy Monday loves.

Dusty

My week in Instagram and Pixlr

So you know I got my new iPhone and promised I would Instagram like a wild woman like a sale at Macy's. Well, I haven't gone overboard. I just really am still figuring out my phone. But I did some things. I also by the way of Miss Makaila over at Distinctly M downloaded the app, Pixlr. It's sooooo much fun. If you like Instagram you will love Pixlr. Of course, I have been living under a rock, so I am sure all you smart beauties know all about it. If so, work with me won't you?

And away we go, here's my roll..

Baby its cold outside, so we had a fire all weekend

Worthless guard dog #1, Mille

this is what you do at 84 years old..sleep

Worthless guard dog #2, Libby Lou

this is what you do at 2 years old..sleep

Sunday Funday consists of reading material

I think I would buy a pile of poop if it had her picture on it

Valentines Day

It said, "After all these years, you're still my favorite dessert"

I called this "breakfast"

Dedicated to Ruthie Hart

my stance against working on Valentines Day

no makeup Thursday

Pixlr is so fun because I actually looked like death on a stick

Awww, I know, I know, my first time and it's not jump off the pages, but boy was it fun. Pictures in any form make us so much more aware of the beauty of our surroundings. We can take anything and make it scrummy with a little fun and software. I wish you all a wonderful weekend. 

Hugs,

Dusty