Me, Me, ME! All you ever wanted to know about me!

Ta da----here we are, at post # 1250. Can you believe that insanity? How could that have possibly happened? But it has.

Lots of people sent questions in for me to answer--so here we go to answer them.

Marilyn asks this odd question: When dealing with unwanted hair, do you prefer shaving or waxing? As in the leg, facial and brow regions, not the nethers.

Well Marilyn, how did you know I have an ongoing battle with the hairs? I get my brows did by the lovely Liza who waxes them right off--but I do not go often enough. That is how I came to accidentally zip off my eyelashes last month, remember? Using the trimmer to address those stray brows, I wacked my own damn eyelashes. It was awful. As far as the legs, I am a shaver--I shave every day. It makes me crazy to have stubble. Today, since it was my big day in court, I busted out a new blade on the man razor I use, and unbeknownst to me, I cut the beejeezus out of my self. When did I notice? When I was sitting in court waiting on my turn, I see this big splotch of blood behind my knee. Class act, aren't I? I would love to get electrolysis, but it is not in the budget.

Shelley wants to know how I decided to become a lawyer, or was it an accident? I did it on purpose--I decided when I was very young--by second grade or so. We were involved in a big lawsuit over my accident and I guess that is what got my attention. I always wanted to be a plaintiff's personal injury attorney, but then panicked before I got in law school that no one would hire me. I got over that, but then ended up doing a summer in this office--after my second year-- and I was completely sold. Crazy though since the two things I was never interested in were criminal law and academic writing--and what do I do? Both of those. All day long. And some nites. And as you have noticed, whenever the topic comes up elsewhere, I stick my nose in it. I think of myself as a professional criticizer. It is no wonder it leaks over into the rest of my life.

What drew me to cowhorses? Kind of an accident--that is the kind of horses that the people who started us in it had. And like everything else I do, I go big or go home, and since I am really crappy at actually riding them, I focused on the one thing I could do--BUY them. Better ones. And that becomes a vicious cycle--I mentally competed in some imaginary contest to have the best around, and that leads to having to use the good ones to make even better ones--after all, you cannot waste the kind of mares we have on junk stallions, can you? So it just kept climbing. Kind of like when you do not take the trash out. I do love them though, and when I convert some other person to our kind of horses, I realize how lucky we are to have such trainable, athletic, personable horses to spend time with. Plus, they are short, so it is not far to the ground, and God knows I would never be able to get my fat ass up on a big hoss.

Favorite color? Orange

How on earth did I start this blog? I really do not know--there is a small group of horse friends (like less than 10) that all started about the same time. Mostly we just read each others. I thought it would be hard to make myself do it, but obviously it is much harder to make me shut up.

Georgie wants to know how I came up with the name of the blog? That was easy. I didn't! Jami, an internet friend who I now know in real life did. When I was soliciting names to change it to, she threw that one out there and it is perfect--I knew it the second I heard it. The rest is history!


CaJoh wants to know how long it takes me to post--do I plan it or schedule posts, etc. Nope, no planning. I must say 6 times a day "I am so going to blog that", but it almost never happens. Generally, I just open up the window and all the boring crap pours out. Maybe I should take this as a suggestion that I put some more thought into these things. But then nothing would get posted. That is another option I guess. The spewing out of what gets posted on here is a lot like being around me though--I hop from one thing to the next, with seven other things going through my head and it appears to make no sense to anyone else. Sometimes not even me, but I am used to myself by now. Everyone else just tunes me out.


Jenni Jiggity has lots of questions! Who is my favorite muppet? Animal, of course. But the Swedish Chef is one funny mf'er.

What kind of Van Halen girl am I? Sammy, David Lee Roth or that other dude? Sammy all the way sister. Funny you should ask this though, as one of the first things Barry was told about me from one of my guy friends here (when we first started dating) was how serious I was about Van Halen. They just don't make music like that any more do they? God am I old.

Am I watching Season 3 of Rock of Love? Hell yes sister. I have watched the season opener at least twice already and probably will see it again. It is hard to figure out those hoochies. I actually did not watch the first two seriously, but this is straight up funny stuff.

Would I bring you brownies if I were your neighbor? Probably if your uterus fell out or something. I am not sure you should eat them though. I have been known to buy some and pretend I made them though. I might would do that, in the event of a tragedy.

What is my favorite kind of cheese? I am starting to worry a little bit about you--are you sure you have not known me my entire life? How do you come up with these oh so pertinent questions? I LOVE me some cheese. I would probably say your basic cheddar is my favorite--it makes a good grilled cheese, and is good on a hamburger. And with crackers. But I am a whore for the cheese. I like colby and swiss and gouda and jarlsberg, and Havarti is my recent turn on, and Romano, and mozzarella (not fresh in a lump though, that is some nasty textured stuff), you name a cheese , I will pretty much eat that cheese. I like all cheese except American, which is not a real cheese, you mark my words--and some Velveeta--which is more of a cheez food than real cheese. Those are cheeses for po folks--in fact, when I am particularly poor, I refer to myself as being "on the cheese", which means I am eating the government cheese. This has never actually happened to me, and I am not sure it is a real thing, cuz my dad is the one who told me aobut guv'ment cheez when I was little and you cannot believe a damn thing he says.

Next Jiggity Jenny asks what kind of socks I wear--ankle, no show, or crew socks? Aha--you do not really know me after all. That is kind of reassuring as I do not know you and I was starting to wonder if you had been stalking me to come up with these questions. I mostly do not wear a sock. My feet get hot. If I have to wear a sock, I wear really thin ankle socks. But I avoid it at all costs.

Why do your goldfish die so quickly? I don't know sister--do they drown? Ha, I am a funny girl.

Do I know where your black umbrella is? Nope, but it you left it around me, I would likely run over it with the car, I think that is what I did with my last umbrella.

Jiggity Jenny's last question: What is my morning drink--coffee, tea, or hard booze? None of the above--but I am glad you specified morning or there likely would have been a whole other answer that might have made me look bad. I have the morning Diet Coke that Rita gives me every day, and then I drink water the rest of the day. Water is my favorite.

Mindspring Design asks what my deal is with the number 1250? Hell I do not know---I just started noticing other people celebrating 100 posts, and so I checked to see where I was. I was at almost 1200 or there abouts--and since I like things to be symmetrical and not offensive to my weird brain patterns, I picked 1250. She is a nice number. You are talking math to me in your comment and you should know that my eyes glaze over when that happens. I like 1250.

Finally, Mommymae wants to know my mom's butterscotch rum recipe. WTH has she got to do with anything? But I did say you could ask anything, so to do the right thing, I have obtained this recipe for you, my dear readers. That was not easy since I had no idea my mom even had a butterscotch rum recipe--although I am not surprised. Here it is:

1 quart vanilla ice cream softened, 2 cup brown sugar, I c. butter. Blend well and refreeze. Boil water. Pour 1 c. boiling water in mug with heaping ice cream scoop of the mixture, stir and add 1-2 oz. of rum. Serve with fresh nutmeg on top. You can keep it in the freezer like you do ice cream.

Who knew? My mother is giving instructions on being a lush and people who just had a baby are asking for it---I think some things are going on around here that I am missing out on!

Anyway--thanks to everyone who has stopped by and made this fun while I ramble on and on and on and on......keep playing with me and maybe the next 1250 posts will be better!