Lots of people have a fear of public speaking. Sadly my niece, who can give an hour long dissertation on the merits of ranch dressing isn’t one of them. Imagine Bubba from Forrest Gump listing all the shrimp recipes then you’ve got a fair idea of my niece and ranch dressing. I love ranch dressing too, until a one hour long description of it in high sped. Now I wish it had never been invented.

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I reached in the frig and pulled out a bag of yellow goop. My hand would’ve been covered in slime, but it was inside a plastic bag. I’m now fan of the petroleum products, but scared of the back corner of my refrigerator.

If you would like a daily dose of Deidra, My Traveling Panties & Other Stories of Champagne & Cheeze Whiz is available for Kindle. Monthly archives will be available soon for all formats.

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I have a co-worker I like to refer to as Miss Positivity. When I’m ranting and raving about someone whose causing me issues, she’s all. “You never know what’s going on in her life. She might be having issues.”

I tried to get her to say something bad about anyone.

Nope.

So I asked, “What about a serial killing cannibal?”

To which she replied, “He might have a vitamin deficiency, you never know.”

Tell that to the people in his freezer.

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I was having dinner with my sister the other night which made me stop and reflect over ten years of technological advancement.

Ten years ago my sister called telling me her mouse didn’t work.

When I said, “Make sure it’s plugged all the way in the back of the computer.”

She said, “Does it have to be plugged in?”

Today that’s bordering on a valid question.

When my sister learned of the internet, she thought there were only five websites Walmart, a grocery store, an auction place, AOL, and some kind of family tree thing.

Last week she said, “I don’t know what twitter and blog (yes, she said just blog) are, but they’re getting on your Facebook somehow.”

I wanted to tell her it was the Facebook Fairy, but I already plucked his wings off. (See previous post)

My sister finally dumped her ten year old computer and left dial up behind. What’s next? Cable?

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Recently, when I was having one of my meltdowns a male, who shall remain nameless, shoved my head in his armpit.

I, of course, began whaling him. Not that it did me much good. I’m 5’2″ and he’s 6’2″.

I asked or maybe screamed a little, “What are you doing?”

He replied, “Calming you down. Male musk has a calming affect on females.”

“Do I look calm?”

“If you would just let biology work.”

“I’m going to let anatomy work if you ever do that again.”

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I’ve released a new blog

My Traveling Panties & Other Stories of Champagne & Cheese Whiz

Available on Amazon for the Kindle

Here’s the promo video

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=466iTVXjCAE

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A friend of mine, Sasha Summers, has a new book coming out called Medusa. Which reminded me of a saying my mom use to have, something about “When in Rome do … do … oh yeah, do a Roman.” Until next time, I’ll be listening to Momma. Maybe you should too.

Here’s the Medusa trailor http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90fH7xoZiCo. 

And a blog post by Sasha http://thebookboost.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-love-with-love-with-guest-blogger.html

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I like my lobster like my men – red, hot, and smothered in butter.

Happy

Valentine’s

Day

Dee

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I have an arch nemesis at work. Yes, I have an arch nemesis, no I do not feel lucky.

I dodged a bullet a few days ago. The Demoness stood in front of me flipping through her wedding invitations. A cold chill ran through me, probably the Angel of Death, her buddy, dancing on my grave.

My mind was reeling. I don’t know what you get the Guardian of the Gates of Hell for a wedding present. Can you go with coal and switches? Or should your gift be more traditional, like hellfire and brimstone?

Then she said, “Oh, I forgot I only invited my friends.”

To which I replied, “Wow, guess you only needed one stamp.”

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My nephew, the Pistol is five and in kindergarten. He brings home a folder everyday in which the teacher puts a smiley or frowny face and my sister is required to sign it.

When my sister asked for the folder, the Pistol said, “That folder is filled with lies, written by a liar.”

Of course it was a frowny face and read, the Pistol pulled his pants down and sat on a table.

When questioned further, the Pistol replied, “No, I pulled my pants down, then up and then sat on the table.”

His teacher told my sister not to worry about it. It’ll be better once he’s moved to the gifted program.

What the teacher really meant – “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be better once he’s out of my class.”

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