If you see me out today, my appearance try not to judge
I've been alone with the minis, the laundry didn't budge
I took 34 work phone calls on Saturday alone
And juggled 2 Little League games, so please throw me a bone
I have yesterdays make-up under my eyes which a qtip can't reach
My yoga capris are sporting 4 tiny spots of bleach
I did manage to shave my legs in the bath this morn
But the rest of me looks a bit forlorn
My inside out ponytail is not a bit cute
To say that my hoodie was darling, well the point would be moot
So if you're out in Atlanta on this dreary Sunday
Just smile and wave at beaten down Clemsongirl, OK?
March 30, 2008
If you see me out today, my appearance try not to judge
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Sunday, March 30, 2008
March 28, 2008
Aye. 33 is ROUGH.
Happy birthday to Diana, Kelly H and Natalie!
I am in a rush to get to the office, sure did work out that situation from yesterday. Duh.
Here's last year's birthday post until I have a chance to write today. Enjoy the 75 and Sunny in GA today!
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Friday, March 28, 2008
March 27, 2008
Attempting to keep it between the navigational beacons today. Battling a wicked migraine that my usual cocktail of meds (thanks Skinny for that recipe) isn't touching.
Losing my mind over a real estate deal that was seamless at 10am and by 1pm is a financial disaster. Note to reader: Big Bank does not equal Great Service (and/or honesty). Yeah. Don't fear though, I kick ass and I will piece it together for both sides. If I am really amazing, one side won't ever know things were wonky. Bottom line? When your Realtor makes a suggestion, you should listen. It's probably because she knows the answer. Duh. That's why I make the big bucks. Not.
On a lighter note, I am very excited for my beach trip in one very short week. The minis and I are due for some fun in the sun. Hopefully they won't pull the crap that they pulled last year as it is the Mommy Show. Double duh. Coach has games and such and isn't ever able to join us on Spring Break. In any event, I will be picking up some new clothes for the trip and I promise to share photos. And shoes. And a new beach bag. With a special pocket for my Jim Beam. I mean sunscreen.
Speaking of clothing, someone mentioned that I was a good source for fashion. ha ha ha Um, just to clarify, I am notsomuch cutting edge. I am just cheap (read: poor) and traditional. Those qualities manifest themselves into much Target shopping of solids and cute accessories that have that mass market appeal. Very rarely does any item of my clothing cost more than $34 and often not more than $20. So lest you think I am a clothes snob. Just a clothes horse. Big difference. I also am not all skinny with some fab body, so I tend to gravitate (read: require) some stretch combined with smoke, mirrors and lip gloss to pull it off. And some Spanx. In fact, today my arse resembles Nebraska.
I'm just saying.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Thursday, March 27, 2008
March 25, 2008
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Tuesday, March 25, 2008
March 24, 2008
Marietta Diner prepared Easter brunch. Amen to that.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Monday, March 24, 2008
March 21, 2008
The good news is that he's not spoiled...exactly how many presents can a 7 year old open before breakfast on a school day?!
Hot Wheels Spinout cupcake cake from SuperTarget (double duh) for his class.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Friday, March 21, 2008
March 20, 2008
March 19, 2008
March 18, 2008
It is with heavy heart and clouded mind that I announce the following.
I have decided not to accept the proposal of WalMart Man. I recently caught a good look at myself sans clothing and have decided that Coach is a good, good man to be living with this hot mess and I should be thankful for what I've got. The 2 "railroad track style" c-section scars alone are cause for pause. Long, long, pause.
Furthermore, although tempting, the opportunity to work "never no mo" would mean great disappointment to my clients and customers. Specifically, one of my readers is moving to ATL and I'd hate to disappoint a reader by telling her that I was no longer a Realtor. My time would be divided between bowling tournaments, bologna grilling on the George Foreman and multiple WalMart runs to pick up Salem Lights and Moon Pies. I can't stomach RC cola and I have a strict policy against eating pork rinds.
I have no idea what you are all going to do with your gorgeous Bridemaids dresses, but if you'll come to Atlanta, I'll buy you a margarita and you can help me drown my sorrows. Pinky swear.
The camouflage jumpsuit however...maybe he'll let Coach borrow it.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Tuesday, March 18, 2008
March 17, 2008
Wow! You all are soooo great. Thanks so much for all your planning, it's a "right nice" amount of help. Now I just need to register. How about one of you can make my wish list as today's post.
Check out the ceremony details here and the Honeymoon plans here. I just can't thank these girls enough.
Oh, and one of you best start thinking of baby names. I mean, we can't really name the children WalMart Man Jr. now can we?
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Monday, March 17, 2008
March 16, 2008
I warned you on Friday that I was not interested in your "perfect family" shi-ot for the weekend.
I am sad to report that some of you have failed to heed said warning and are posting about eating out, movie-going, partying, cute clothing wearing and general hubby being around-ness.
Cease and desist.
Friggin' immediately. You're making my PIMMAL.
Oh, and Impoverished Preppy says be internet safe...here's her warning.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Sunday, March 16, 2008
March 15, 2008
The good news is that I was NOT interviewed regarding the ridiculous and dragging on tornadoes.
Because if I had been, and you had been watching, this is what you would have been thinking.
Um, gee. That looks a little like Clemsongirl. Those are definitely her minis. Yep. She's wearing a Clemson baseball sweatshirt that clearly used to belong to Coach. Hmmm. I had no idea that bleached yoga capris and the world's dirtiest flip flops were an integral part of her uniform. She definitely did NOT get that toenail polish situation resolved last night. Yikes. What did she do last night? She has some serious under eye circles and well, general ickyness with regard to yesterday's make-up leftover today. (If you were watching this at 4:30pm you'd still be wondering if maybe, just maybe I slept in those clothes. And you'd be correct.)
And exactly what day of the Hair Cycle do you suppose that is? It looks kind of like it started as a ponytail. Then maybe a couple of big chunks fell out and she somehow twisted them into the elastic band? I really just can't figure it out. It is shiny though, but I think perhaps that's glue stick. Maybe she was working on a project and forgot she had glue on her hands and wiped them through her hair? Dunno.
And your observations would be neither profound nor startling to me. I know what I look like today. I am just glad you don't have to see it.
Peace, love and no shower.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Saturday, March 15, 2008
March 14, 2008
For most of you Friday is a good thing. It means your hubby will be home and perhaps you'll even have a sitter and go out for a date night. You get to put on your cute jeans and your heels and have a night out with friends and wine. You get to attend sporting events and children's birthday parties as a couple. You're all so cute with your Eddie Bauer matching stadium chairs and your Starbucks. Your in laws might live nearby so the children are spending the night there so you can sleep in. You can head out for a leisurely breakfast and stop by the furniture store so you can show hubby that table you've had your eye on. Maybe you'll rent a movie and snuggle up on the couch and drink beers and talk.
Friday sucks. It's the Mommy show starting at 1:00pm when I pick up Jack and the Mommy Show is on 24 hours a day with no commercial breaks until I drop the little buggers off on Monday morning for school. There are no flippin' relief troops coming. There's no date night. I am the asshole mom sitting alone at the game trying to manage her children whilst you cock your heads and "Bless her heart" me to death. I am the one juggling the listing appointment and the ringing phone and the lawn mowing. Solo.
So, if you're out and about this weekend feeling all lucky and fuzzy with your perfect little family and your husband who is off on the weekend, and you happen to see me, give a (Clemson)girl a break. Hold the door for me as a try to carry my coffee and 2 hot chocolates and the baseball bag and the granola bars and the Magic Tree House book while trying to schedule a buyer showing.
Let me over when the friggin' lane ends and I am literally going to drive the monogrammed minivan into the ditch. Ignore the raised voice you hear through my open windows of my house. I'm doing the best I can.
***Post Script: I DO NOT want to hear any of your "My husband is out of town too and we have 84,000 things to attend" BS today. General Krotendorffer is on his way and I am incapable of empathy. It's all about me and my drama today. So get on board with that and we'll all make it to Monday. Maybe.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Friday, March 14, 2008
March 13, 2008
Jack: Why is Mama yelling all the time this day? We didn't even do anything really bad.
Ryan: I know. She's crabby and yelling and telling me what to do every minute. Then she told me to make my bed and I was in the middle of eating!
Jack: And her toenails are all crazy looking and the paint is coming off them.
Mmm hmmm. At least I'm training them early.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Thursday, March 13, 2008
March 11, 2008
You may remember my previous wedding proposal from a reader last August. Today, we've topped it.
I got proposed to today at the Super Walmart. Sure did.
Let me set the scene for you. I was in the check-out line to the far left (aka the cigarette line) much to my dismay. Now, don't get me wrong. Coach is a coach and for many, many years he did indeed "dip". But when our first child was born, he quit cold turkey. I may have screamed something about getting Leukoplakia and then mouth cancer and me not planning on kissing him EVER if he had a hole in this lower lip, I'm just saying.
Anyway, I don't begrudge folks that tobacco, or Salem Lights or those retarded looking little mini cigars that have flavors, but it's just not my thing. That said, I did put myself in an environment rich with people of poor judgement by choosing that lane. (Walmart ain't Target, they ain't openin' another line.)
I was buying 7 clipboards for Coach and the, ahem, gentlemen, behind me in line noticed that and evidently found this a strange purchase. (Duh. You need them for your practice schedule and hitter's spray chart, and your recruiting depth chart and your pitching chart...and your, whatever and then you hang it on the fence. I don't understand this shi-ot, nor do I pretend to. I just pull Coach's list off the fridge and buy what it says. Male readers, don't bother to correct me. We womenfolk don't care much about "the sports" and all).
So he found this purchase a bit strange and this was the resulting conversation. I would like to preface this by saying that the ahem, gentleman had MOST of his teeth. Like say, 60%. And all of his hair. In a mullet.
Him: "Looks like you're 'bout to git to work on somethin' there with them there clipboards."
Me: (yellow Turtle beach pub tee shirt, yoga pants, hair cycle day 3 minimal makeup, recent manicure): "Um, well, they are for my husband. I'm actually not working today."
Him: "Hmpf. Sweet Darlin' if you'll marry me, you don't got to work no mo'."
Me: "Uh. Well. Um. That's very nice of you, but I'm actually already married. With children."
Him: "But see, darlin' I can keep you real sweet. Real sweet. You don't go to work no mo' never. Why don't you mull that over in your head for a bit. I'll be back at this Walmart nex' Tuesday and you can tell me then what ya decide. How 'bout that little darlin'?"
Me: "That sounds outstanding. I'll mull that over in my head and I'll get back to you."
Now, I need your advice. He was wearing a camouflage coverall, which Coach just plain refuses to wear, and I wouldn't have to work no mo' never. That's a pretty enticing offer.
Damn. I should've asked what kind of pick up truck he drove.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Tuesday, March 11, 2008
March 10, 2008
Dropped the monogrammed minivan off for some service at the dealership tonight, so I will be driving Coach's SUV on Tuesday. So if you live in GA and you see a slightly stressed out dark haired mother of 2 driving down the Interstate applying VS Cherry Bomb lip gloss and talking on a pink Razr, that'd be me. There sure as Hell is no monogram on Coach's vehicle.
There may be one after I have it for 24 hours. hee hee
Today was a success at work, I am happy to report. I only had to raise my voice once. To a man. Who calls me "honey". And you can imagine how that makes a (Clemson)girl feel. Me no likey the chauvinist nicknames. I have a name. First and last. I wear a name tag, gold and shiny. Please reference said name tag. Thankyouverymuch. I don't call you Bub, Buddy, Dude or Mister. I am not Honey, Darlin', Sweetie or Precious.
Is it weird that I have a college education and I wear a name tag? What-ever.
CLEMSONTWIN, email me ASAP at email@example.com
March 9, 2008
Some things I feel compelled to share with you.
Coach and I decided to turn off the TV last night and have an actual conversation that did not involve reality shows. At some point during said conversation, he said one of the reasons that he married me was that I am a "perfect combination of an uppity bitch and a down home cooking kind of girl." Ummmmm, OK. Does that mean I can wear my Williams Sonoma Orleans Toile Apron whilst I prepare fried mini pecan pies? (which are incidentally deee-licious) He also said that he knew there was "so much going on" in my big brain. Damn straight.
Also, he said I was being a "anxious, stressed out tight-ass" and forced me to drink Amstel Light until I chilled the hell out. I did indeed "chill the hell out" and subsequently fell asleep on the chair and a half in our family room. Not that I needed the whole chair and a half to accomodate my drunk arse...I'm just saying.
This morning I went to Starbucks (duh) on my way to church and picked up my new drink (Venti Extra Hot Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte) and the AJC (which I may or may not refer to as the Atlanta Journal Constipation, but I digress). Outside of the Bucks was a gaggle of Girl Scouts waving cookie signs and hollering at cars on the hill beside the road. At the end of the drive-thru was ANOTHER gaggle of girls enticing drive-thruers. INSIDE the store was a third gaggle of Scouts. Really? You're killing me.
I am here for caffination and peace and quiet. I love me some Samoas, but notsomuch at 8:45am in friggin' Starbucks. I admire the fortitude of those parents for supporting that. I appreciate the yummy-ness and the tradition. I WAS a Brownie and a Girl Scout and all that. (you may want to click this and re-read that post to see just how much of an uppity bitch I still am) I just don't need that shi-ot on a Sunday morning, I've already got Catholic guilt coming out my ears.
So, I resisted the sugar-fied Chai, I resisted the bakery case, and I resisted the Girl Scout cookies. One might say I resisted the Triple Threat. And that's plain funny, yes?
March 8, 2008
There has been much recent ado about the semicolon and it's proper use. I was looking for some info about the Semicolon Appreciation Society and I stumbled upon something I found midly amusing.
In order to demonstrate the appropriate usage of the semicolon, this is what Wikipedia uses as an example.
Use a semicolon between items in a series containing internal punctuation: "There are several Waffle Houses in Atlanta, Georgia; Greenville, South Carolina; Gainesville, Florida; and Mobile, Alabama."
I'm sorry; that is just plain funny, yes?
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Saturday, March 08, 2008
March 7, 2008
Jack: What are we doing now Mama?
Me: In about 10 minutes we're going to get Ryan.
Jack: Yeah. We're going to go inside Ryan's school.
Me: No, not today. Mama looks deee-sgusting. We're going in the carpool line.
Jack: I hate the carpool line. The carpool line is shit.
I know buddy, I totally agree.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Friday, March 07, 2008
March 6, 2008
What I am thankful for today:
1. At age 32 (for 3 short weeks) I am confident enough in myself that when I drop a tray of salad at Sweet Tomatoes and it shatters all over the floor, I'm not even a little embarrassed. Instead, my only thought was "Crap. I have to walk all the way back the beginning and start over. I'll never perfect that ratio of broccoli to sunflower kernels again."
2. That the School Box store sells green butcher paper in rolls of 84,000 feet. I have purchased said roll of green paper to construct a jungle vine dealie for the minis' Safari Adventure. Also snagged some cardboard monkeys to mate with the inflatable one. Men are 2 dimensional anyway, so cute girl monkey won't even know the diff.
3. That Coach will be home tonight before 10pm. I need a massage. Hope he's reading this. That boy needs some forewarning.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Thursday, March 06, 2008
March 5, 2008
Jack is only 4, so to say that he has "speech issues" would be a bit premature, but he does call "Ryan" "Whyan" and "rock" and "lock" sound indistinguishable.
I bought some crazy straws to help with palette development and I try to gently repeat the word correctly. That said, we got the whole "r" and "l" thing taken care of with the accidental help of Van Morrison.
The chorus of Brown Eyed Girl has a million la la la la la la la las. He's good to go now!
And there you have the Karaoke Song of the Day.
Hey where did we go,
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow,
Playin' a new game,
Laughing and a running hey, hey
Skipping and a jumping
In the misty morning fog with
Our hearts a thumpin' and you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.
Whatever happened To Tuesday and so slow
Going down the old mine
With a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing,
Hiding behind a rainbow's wall,
Slipping and sliding
All along the water fall, with you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.
Do you remember when we used to sing,
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da
So hard to find my way,
Now that I'm all on my own.
I saw you just the other day,
My how you have grown,
Cast my memory back there, Lord
Sometime I'm overcome thinking 'bout
Making love in the green grass
Behind the stadium with you
My brown eyed girl
You my brown eyed girl
Do you remember when we used to sing
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Indeed, Coach IS out of town (duh), but alas, the monkey and I did not "get busy" or anything. Although he DOES have opposable thumbs... anyhoo. Just where did I put that vibrating banana...?
Here's what I was working on last night, and clearly needed the monkey for inspiration...
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Wednesday, March 05, 2008
March 4, 2008
March 3, 2008
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Monday, March 03, 2008
March 2, 2008
#1. Who bought the shoes? Come on, I know a mess of you ran out for the green ones especially! Do tell. (BTW I wore the brown ones today with dark denim trousers, a yellow babydoll tee and a gi-normous necklace of beads; gold, yellow, brown, etc.) They were super comfy if not downright delightful and I had them on from 9a-7p!
#2. I need to know how many BOYS are reading this. Other than Coach. So you're going to need to comment, just give yourself a nickname if you need to. Don't make me tell you twice. If you don't know how to leave a comment, go ask your wife. She knows EVERYTHING.
Posted by clemsongirlandthecoach at Sunday, March 02, 2008
March 1, 2008
And these hidden wedges. Love the bow. No idea what I plan on wearing them with.
And these maryjanes. Duh. They are a champagne color and super comfy. They also come in cream, however if you buy the cream ones, we will no longer be friends. No exceptions. You are an adult. No cream shoes for you. Really, did I have to tell you that?