Roadtrips, Wildcats & Recycled Posts

Okie dokie boys and girls.  No, the big, bad, fugly, hateful critics didn’t scare me off.  No.

Sometimes work comes a knockin and I have to run off and do actual work.  This is exactly what happened this week.  I went the opposite direction of Huntsville, Alabama this time. 

Yes, friends, I went to Kentucky.  Which under normal circumstances is a wonderful thing.  I love Kentucky.  I love the horses they breed.  I love the Derby.

What I don’t love is the Kentucky Wildcats this time of year…

YES!  IT’S FOOTBALL TIME IN TENNESSEE!!  FINALLY.

Anyways, I’ve recycled this post from last year before the wedding because I’m on the road.  I’ll be around to give everybody fiesty comments and wet slobbery kisses Saturday morning!

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So, this wedding hasn’t exactly went off without a hitch… If I don’t end up in a padded room by the end of this thing it will be a miracle..

Leave us recap all of the issues, shall we?

**I mean, the date has been changed from July 14th to June 2nd and now (officially) September 29th.

**My stepbrother (the preacherman) was who was supposed to officiate the ceremony, ceremoniously backed out on me without letting me know.

**My chinese torture underwear has been returned for the proper size, yet the company has yet to send the replacement (the bastards).

**I am now going to have to reschedule AGAIN with the dress alteration lady.

GAAAA!!!! Then there is the issue with the cake.

Now call me simple-minded. But ain’t cake, cake? Nothing more, nothing less?
At least that is what I thought when I started all this.

My original cake lady gave me the schpeel about how her cakes cost from $2 – $2.50 per serving. Now, I’m thinkin, if all of these folks that have been invited to this here illustrious event show, I’m gonna end up shellin out around $450 for a cake.
Cake, kids. Flour, eggs, oil, frosting. A cake. She cuts me a deal, and agrees on $230.00 set up and all.

Well, when the wedding got cancelled twice, I ended up losing the original cake lady. Which I was really bummed about, because although it was ass expensive, she was talented enough to make me the cake I wanted:

But alas, Elaine is looney and completely booked from now until Jesus comes back.

So, Olga (my boss) comes in this past Monday morning and says “Dude, you know when one door closes, another one opens.” She had found someone, quite by accident, that does cakes. Yay!

Or so I thought. So, the lady calls me. We discuss the cake and how many I need to feed with this cake and so on… She goes on to tell me that she doesn’t do that pricing by the piece stuff. I was thinking, “are you for real? You rock cake chick!”.

So, she says give her a day or so to work on pricing and she’d get back to me. Well, today was the day. The phone range this morning and I was thrilled to be hearing back from her so promptly.

She says she can do the cake (mind you, I downsized from the original cake, so it was smaller). And she’ll do the cake for a measley $550.00.

Sweet Holy Jesus, I almost fell over. Since I was at the office and unable to pass out right that second, I settled for my jaw dropping so far it hit my desk.

I thanked her kindly for her call, and told her I had to get in touch with my Mama since she is the one paying for it. We’ve decided to forego the half thousand dollar delight and put the blame on my Mom. She’ll never know.

Anyway, off to Food City I go, as in a previous grocery foraging expedition, I noted in the back of my mind, that they have cakes for all occassions.

Seriously, who give two shakes of pig poo if the things tastes like sweet cardboard. It’s still cake. Like anybody will eat it anyway.
Well, anybody other than my paternal grandfather would would eat the leather off of a shoe if it had icing on it.

They are going to prepare me a cake, that althought it ain’t nearly what I wanted to begin with, will do. Especially for the $$.

For a mere $160 plus tax, we are getting a mighty fine work of edible art.

But still, I beg of you this answer… Ain’t a cake, a cake?
I could just as easily go to Sam’s and get a mac sized cake for $21.99. And they’ll even airbrush Spiderman on it if I want. =)

Death March, Painful Shoes & A Subscription to Annoy Me Daily

Finally. A year after the proposal. Finally, after three changes in date, time and venue. Finally, after finding a wedding cake that didn’t resemble spiderman. Finally, after managing to locate and fit into a sexy yet firm suitable set of wedding underwear. Finally, we did it. We got hitched!

Of course, in our typical style, anything less than complete and utter chaos, followed by family drama and tradgedy simply wouldn’t do.

I must say, my bridesmaids were stunning and wearing sexy gowns.

Nice tits, ladies! I couldn’t say it in the church, because well, it was church. But dang, everybody’s boobs looked superb in those dresses!

The boys didn’t look shabby either.

Ain’t it funny how a man in a classic black tux can make a girl weak in the knees?

It was actually beautiful, other than the bridesmaids walking to “Pray for the Dead and the Dead will Pray for you”.

I shit you not. It was not un-noticed by a single soul either.

Long story. I stress here and now, that it was an ooopsie on our part, as we didn’t listen to the concerto in full.

We thought, “Oh that’s beautiful” when we listened to it the first time and turned it off with listening to it all the way through.

So, two of the bridesmaids are walking to lovely strums of a classic string quartet, when it goes into the death march. Literally. Not good.

Sweet Jesus! I almost had a heart attack.

I decided I either need an ample amount of Jack Daniels right then and there or a mega dose of xanax as it was all I could do to keep from crying.

I’m back there yelling to Val “Oh shit! Oh Shit!!!!! Cut it off, cut it off!!”

Which he did, and we went on.

Deep breath. The Wedding March is going.

Walking with Daddy (who was thankfully on his best behavior and didn’t cause any shit whatsoever).

My daddy had come to the rehearsal drunker than cooter brown and was pure evil about my Ma. Not nice.

I FINALLY got up there to my man. The longest mile… you better believe it.

Ok, so here we go. Daddy gave me away and there I stood looking into the eyes of the man I was about to marry.

I never in my life imagined that I would have been nervous.

But I was. Xanax?? Didn’t anybody find the damn Xanax???

We stood with everyone looking on… ohhhhh, the sweet, happy couple gazing at one another as “At Last” by Etta James played on.

Then, my friggin shoes started to hurt like hell and I was about to cry again.

We manage to exchange vows with me only tripping once over my tongue and having to start over.

Que the second song “If You Ever Have Forever In Mind”.

By this time, the butterflies have turned to dragons and I’m so nervous that I can feel myself turning red as a chipotle pepper getting over ripe in the sun.

I look at the pastor and say, “Is there anyway we can get him to turn this song off??”

”You really want the song cut?” He asked, looking at me like I’m crazy and then to Tony for reassurance that my head wasn’t going to spin 360 like something from the Exorcist.

“Yah, and the next one too. My shoes are killing me and I’m turning red.”

“You got it.” He said.

He got Val’s attention, music was cut. Moving right along.

We are now husband and wife.He pulled me close and laid the nicest kiss on me.

Dang. We’re in church here, pal, and you’re really turning me on.

Do you go to hell for getting turned on in church?

The only mishap was Lil T coming up to us mid-vows and yelling “Look Nana! Motorcycle.”

When he figured out everybody was lauging at him and saying, “Oh how cute.”, he took off.

So, not a single mishap that was YouTube worthy happened, dammit!

Oh wait… the death march…

I was just waiting for somebody to do something stupid.

We got it done! The ceremony itself was beautiful. Nobody burst into flames from getting too close to the unity candle, although Julie was standing pretty close and she has that sexy long hair.

But, nobody slid and fell off the stage, passed out or puked…

No puke is an awesome thing.

Next snafu:
We were in the midst of finding the photographer to make pictures after the ceremony, when we found out that the photographer had, in fact, left.

He had said to somebody, can’t remember who at this point, that he had plenty of pictures. I still don’t have them.

Um. What?!?! I believe I’ll be the one to tell you when you’ve got enough damn pictures and when you can sit down and have cake!

But, I didn’t get the chance. He was gone.

Must have needed a beer or a shot of tequila or something. Whatever.

That’s when SUPERMAN appeared! My buddy Mark.

I was about to cry and there he was, yanking the camera out of the bag, snapping pictures of the wedding party, the reception, the friends, the family.

My friggin hero, I shit ya not!

Ok, so what else. The reception was interesting. There was one arguement and my cake was melting.

I pitched the bouquet, and Robyn (one of my best Pirate friends) snatched it up. She’s next anyway.

Tony flipped the garter…

Curtis (Robyn’s man) yoinked the garter! So, if it wasn’t already happening, it’s bound to happen now!

We cut cake…

drank wedding punch…

and decided it was time to cruise on outta there.

We proceeded to the truck to find it tastefully decorated with multiple condoms and window chalk.

Family-kid drama was on deck… but I am trying to forget all about it at this point.
Family-mom crisis hit with Big T’s mom that day too, but all turned out well.

Anyhoo, I suppose it doesn’t make any difference how we got there. I got the ring, he gets a life long subscription to Annoy Me Daily magazine for men.

Hooters, Jolly Roger, Biker Underwear & A Naughty Chicken

It’s Tuesday again kids and you know what that means!!! A naughty chicken in honor of my bachelorette party and Speedcat Hollydale’s quest to bring joy to an otherwise boring existence.

Ya gotta love a bunch of Pirate Chicks along with those who dare to come along for the ride.

They never let a special event go by without celebrating with cake and alcohol.

Becky and Natalie decided that come hell or high water there should be a bachelorette party the week before the wedding.

Thank God they had the sense not to have the party the night before the wedding or I would have never made it.

Yes, my friends. I got soused.

Diva + cold beer + shots of jack = hangover city

It was a beautiful evening, not too hot, not too cold. We all met up at Hooters for dinner and a drink. It was nice. Our little waitresses were super sweet, although I must say, I honestly thought I’d see more tits and ass. Not that they weren’t precious in their little Hooters gear, they were. But my 14 year old neice has more boobie and butt than these poor girls had.
Meet Ashley and Felicia:

The Hot boneless chicken tenders were tasty as all hell, my lips were nice and tingly for a while though. The girls decided to get me a cute little shirt to commemorate the joyous occassion.

In general, Hooters doesn’t see many bachelorette parties, but they do get hoards of bachelor parties… So, they improvised and got the Bachelor Party Shirt and turned into a Bachelorette Party shirt that all the little girls in tight Hooter’s shirts signed with loves n kisses.

We decided that it was time to continue on and move the festivities to Coyote Joe where Natalie and Holly had decorated and made it look like a scene from a slasher flick with the “Wild Girls- Caution” tape.
They adorned Diva with a princess tiara which boldly stated that I am indeed the Bride to Be… and if there was any question left due to the tiara being hiddeny by my hair which was erect like a hard penis, then the big Bride to Be button aptly placed between my breasts certainly gave it away.

So, we go in and invade the corner lot of CJ, nothing different there.

Olga made a real honest to God rum cake. It was a Jolly Roger, cuz she knows how pirates roll.

We love the booty, especially rum laced booty.

It was time to have a little fun. We had games on tap, and honestly, watching them set up the Pin the Bow-Tie on the Bachelor was more fun than playing it. Amanda gave the poster a hard on when she licked it from thigh to belly-button.

And Steph gave our bachelor a nice sized penis to look at…

We had Do the Dare Cards. The name alone implies that there will be some mischief going on.

I need to state that, I, as the bride to be, didn’t do anything extreme.

Quite the contrary, I was very well behaved.

Four of the six cards I drew from the deck were completed by our sweetheart of a bouncer. God bless you, Steve-O!

Diva’s cards dared her to:
-get the bouncer to laugh for 100 points. Done!
-get a hunk to give her a neck massage. Done!
-get the phone number of a hot guy. Done!
-get a man to show you a hidden tattoo. Done! It was on his upper thigh.
-get the bartender to give you a free drink. Done!
-find a guy, grab his ass, and tell him he has a nice ass. Done! Twice.
(Steph was witness. Two guys, two butts, double points!)

Here are some photos of the festivities! Enjoy!

Shawna found a baldguy & kissed him on top of his head.

Natalie and Amanda took the cake when they talked one of the big biker boys out of his drawers.

Underwear Crisis – Solved

As usual nothing can go just as smooth as a newborn baby’s ass. This whole bridal underwear crisis was starting to wear on me a tad bit.

I had rescheduled with Angenette, the wedding dress alteration lady, for today to begin alterations on my gown. Of course that was assuming that my damn boob liftin, fat squashing chinese torture device arrived in time for me to carry it along to her house.

Did it come? Why, hell no.

Found out when I finally checked my email this morning, that it, in fact, had not even shipped. Found out that OOOPS, it ain’t even in stock!!!
Cancel my order! Refund the Georges back to my credit card and piss off!!!

So, me and Olga wisk off to David’s Bridal for a fun time trying to shove me into a boned corset. If you’ve never put one on, I suggest you try it.
It’s a delightful little contraption that effectively displaces fat to places it was never intented to be. All the while cutting off all hopes of taking more than a gasp of air at a time.

I have alot of breathing exercises to be performing before I am in this thing for the day. Or like Elizabeth on Pirates I, I shall be passing out and falling off a cliff into the water. Well, maybe nothing that extreme. I’ll just pass out and fall at Anthony’s feet (hopefully after squeeking out “I do”)

Anyway, if nothing else, it should make for good YouTube footage.

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Blushing Bride – My Ass!

There are two things I’ve seen women be extatic and smiling through. One is planning a wedding, the other is childbirth.

I’ve decided that unless you have unlimited fundage and a perfect body, planning a beautiful wedding is nothing more than a super big charlie horse right in my ass.

I guess I really shouldn’t be complaining, because things have finally started to work out as they should. With the exception of the minister backing out, of course.
But, today I was supposed to have my dress fitting with the alterations lady, Angenette. Well, my underwear that we ordered was supposed to be here on Friday but it wasn’t. This is a thing which resembles an archaic chinese torture device used to suck the breath out of women to keep them quiet! I have no idea where the fat is supposed to go once we get me into it, but supposedly it’ll smooth one out under a wedding gown.

So, I had to call and reschedule with Angenette for next Monday. Great! Problem solved. Not quite.

Today, the torture device arrived in a pretty little box. Apparently the people who sewed the size into this thing were smoking some good shit at the time. Because not only was it too small, but it fit my boss rather snug and she’s a tiny chick. Way tiny, like a size 8 girl. Now I’m no rocket scientist, but I would think if something is supposedly my size, but it fits her and it fits her snug, what the hell size am I supposed to get????
That was the only thing that made me feel even slightly less like a cow.

I talked to Anthony whilst he was out on a ring shopping spree in tears. God bless his heart, he said “Piss on it, don’t wear underwear.”

To Wed or Not To Wed…That’s the Question

That was the question.

I was blown completely in a direction that I had never even fathomed in fall of last year.
Like many kids my age, I have found myself all grown up, family raised, divorced and running completely wild. Kind of like turning 21 again, kinda.
I was pretty content with how life was going. My kids are grown up and I can come and go as I please.

Running around with the girls… you bet.
Acting extremely silly and pirate like… wouldn’t have had it any other way.

But, then it happened. My bestest friends introduced me to the man that would forever change my being. As fate would have it, things moved along rather rapido. And BAM – the question came…

Wanna get married? Of course, it was much sweeter than that. It was a very touching a precious moment. YEP! Let’s get married. GAME ON!
This happened last October.

The holidays went by smoothly and we were still getting to know each other pretty well.
I met his family. They seemed to like me. I passed the test.

Then it was set!! June 2nd. Invitations ordered. Cake ordered. Dress ordered. Church on hold. Preacher with a Bible. You name it, it was ordered. You get the picture.

But as days went by, I started to get scared. In typical Diva fashion, I flipped out, and decided that maybe we needed time to get our ducks in a row and everything ironed out both in our personal lives (kids and whatnot) and with our life together (roof over head, combining of households… ya know).

I put my entire wedding party in a holding pattern like a jumbo jet circling La Guardia during rush hour on Monday morning in Manhattan. I have never felt such pressure or such fear and I’ve had some pretty self-induced dramatic experiences in my life.

Everybody had some sort of input. A slight few of my closest friends were very understanding and supportive and just went happily into the holding pattern.
Others decided that it didn’t need to happen and actively gave opinions over and over.

You see, planning of the wedding ceremony was all set up and in place. But the cold feet I ended up being the proud owner of got the best of me. The wedding ceremony was the easy part. After it was all planned out and ready to go, I had time to stop and think. Which in this case, turned out to be a good thing.

I started to think about how different we are. How our views on alot of things are completely in the opposite. The way we treat and raise our kids is totally ass backward from one another.

One of the biggest fears I’ve got: becoming a wicked step-mother.
His son had always been nice to me, until the plans started to come together and it was apparent to him that this was really going to happen. Silently but surely, I knew he was sabotaging it. At least in my non-rational mind I’m sure he was.

But, I found out, when I started to keep my fella at arms length due to fear and wasn’t seeing half as much of him, just how important he is to me.

In the last week of my self-promoted hiding phase, I started to really ponder on all of the little things he does just to make me smile.
**The 100 mile-round-trips he makes in the middle of the week just to say hi and give me a kiss**
**Being serenaded in front of everyone by him and his bluegrass buddies as they sing “You are My Flower” because he wants me to know how much he loves me**
**Jumping in his big ol’ truck to ride around and do nothing but look and talk**

That man loves me. He’s not trying to tame me or make me into something I’m not. He takes my bitchy and ever-so-slightly sarcastic tone with a teaspoon of sugar and loves me anyway.

I finally got enough courage to talk to him.. To tell him I’m a freak and that I was scared of what was happening. You know, face-to-face verbal communication is way under-rated.
We both had answers to all the questions that were looming. We came to agreement on alot of subject matter.

So, I guess the answer to the above question is….

TO WED. Yes.

We have decided that a fall wedding is in order and that we are going to have a
most wonderful, beautiful ever after together.

Details to follow soon. I need to pull my wedding party in from the holding pattern and in for a landing before I go and shout from the roof-tops.