Taking applications for body guards

Whelp, it's official - I'M FAMOUS!

Amanda and I were at Wal Mart with a cart full of crap and more crap, when the most lovely woman walked up to me and asked if I was "Kim."  As I said yes I looked at her and tried to place her face, and couldn't figure her out.

She introduced herself as Mrs. "W", and immediately I knew she was one of my readers.  If I tell you how I knew this, I'll have to kill you.  Not really, but doesn't that sound fun?

Stupid me, in my surprise that I was recognized from my pithy little blog, I neglected to introduce Mrs. W to my daughter.  I'm nooooot the brightest bulb in the pack people.

Anyway, here's to my first public *sighting.*

Now I totally know how celebrities feel...what are they complaining about?!

See you around Mrs. W!

   
 

el día dos de las preguntas

I feel I can answer the rest of your questions with one more post, as these are fairly short and sweet.

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Steve at A Life in the Day asks:  What is the airspeed of an un-laden Swallow?  

African or European?


A Daft Scots Lass asks:   Did you ever wake up next to someone and you couldn't remember their name?


No, but I did wake up once with a hickey I didn't recall getting...after somehow being returned home from a gay bar.  That was interesting...  

Keith at Musings of an Unapologetic Dreamer asks:  If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?


I would want to be a tree that never loses its leaves, provides plenty of shade, and has no roots so I could move around.  I gotta get my nap and if I'm always standing still and always have wood, that ain't gonna happen.


My Worlds My Words My Worries asks:  Did you know there are mechanical devices called 'planetary gears?'


Well, after some extensive research with Old Man Google, I've learned it has nothing to do with planets.  You're welcome.

Ask and ye shall receive

Thank you to the five awesome readers who asked life's burning questions!  Today I'll torture astound you all with an answer to a question provided by a lovely loyal reader, Stacia.  When Stacia isn't dutifully responding to my posts, you can find her at her most awesome blog, Simply Stacia.  Please pay her a visit, and thank you Stacia for playing along!

Q:  Did you go to your prom? If so, what was it like? 


Yes, I did go to prom! The year was 1991 and I was about a week shy of my 16th birthday.  My parents were very strict on the whole "no dating before 16" rule, the rule that magically dictates when an adolescent is responsible enough to be let out of the house to cavort with a *GASP* boys.  Since I was so close to that magic number, Mom and Dad allowed me to go on this ONE. DATE.

The dress I wore was worn by my three sisters above me - it was purchased by my oldest sister, so I had years to fantasize about the day I'd get to wear it.  By the time I was 15.98 years old, I had developed quite a womanly body.  I had a huge rack which I was extremely self-conscious of, and the dress I wore provided about a half-inch of cleavage whose exposure left me feeling mortified and nearly naked the entire night.  The thought of someone actually seeing that skin, the thought of my boobs being seen as something even slightly sexual, made me incredibly anxious.

I would have felt more comfortable dressed as a nun.

I was taller than my date which added to the insecurities I had already felt, so all night I felt like a half-naked sasquatch - albeit a pretty half-naked sasquatch.  In spite of my physical hang-ups, I really did have a fun time.  We doubled with my sister Amy and her now-husband, and had some good clean fun like good Mormon girls do.

Now you can't go to prom without getting pictures taken, right??  Typical pose, typical theme, typical HUGE hair and '90s bangs-to-heaven.  What is not typical however, is what was peeking out from beneath my dress...yup, those are fucking TOES.  Even though I towered over my poor date the whole night, I did not want to have the evening commemorated with an actual photo of sasquatch, so I removed my shoes right before we were posed.  I never stopped to think that my incredibly long, finger-like toes encased in white nylons, would photo-bomb our picture.

I remember hoping my date trashed his set of pictures, as I pretty much ruined them with my peek-a-boo-playing paws.

So there's my story about prom.  Thank you for asking that question Stacia, I always enjoy a good laugh whenever I think of that night and see this picture.  It's too bad that dress isn't still around.  Amanda would totally rock those polka dots!

Ask me

I have not an ounce of crap to offer this morning, but I feel like blogging anyway.  So today I'm going to steal something I've seen other bloggers do - I want you to ask me some questions.

Go ahead, I know you have some nail-biters, things you've been DYING to know about me.  Hell, it doesn't even have to be a question about me, it can be about planetary alignment for all I care.  I'm no planetary expert, but I'm sure I could come up with some kind of answer.

I'll write a follow-up post to answer your awesome questions, so let's have it!

Ask The Accidental Somebody your questions...

GO!!!

Chop it

Amanda's hair is an endless struggle.  It's fine, it's fairly thin, and it's stick straight.  She doesn't like to spend time styling it (who can blame her), and it's just an all-around pain in the ass.  So a few days ago she mentioned she wanted a pixie cut.


She's had this hairstyle before, back when she was about six and a half, and it was absolutely adorable.  Back then I gave her the lowdown about what to expect with a "boy" haircut.  People would call her a boy, kids might make fun of her, her dad wouldn't like it, etc.  She didn't care what anyone said and stressed to me that she wanted to be herself no matter what others thought of her.  Couldn't argue with that!

Lil Pixie Amanda, age 6 1/2

This time was no different, only I stressed it even more because she will soon be in middle school, and we all know what that means: girls from HELL.  She is at an extremely vulnerable age, and as proud of her as I am for being such a bold young woman, I am afraid for any possible future torment from the cats at school.

I asked her to sit on it for a few days to really make sure it was something she wanted to do.  We talked about it more today, and she said that the benefits of a shorter 'do were worth the risk of the haters she might (or might not) have to deal with.  

So that was it - she was convinced, and once she sets her mind to something there's no going back.  I offered to cut it myself - when I used to wear my hair in a pixie I always cut it myself because no one could ever get it quite right.  I figured if I could do it on myself, I could surely do it on her.

So without further ado, here she is...

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I thought I'd throw this in - so many people say Amanda and I look alike, so I tried to find a picture of me when I had my short hair that most resembles her...