Or, an alternate title could be "A blog post proving I'm *that* tired."
My youngest son and I left on Thursday for Portland, Maine. We drove through a snowstorm, and we got home late last night.
I am extremely overtired. Basically, everything is funny.
Earlier today, which should be spelt "tah-day", sorry...spleeled...oops. SPELLED....my friend and fellow Bookie Amanda Dykes wrote a post on her Facebook author page and hashtagged it #MondayBrain.
I was all, "Brian? Who is BRIAN?"
Amanda has a lovely blog. Visit her here:amandadykes.com
Anyway, I was tipping over in my hciar, laughing at my hilarity...whoops....CHair...and it rememinded me that I was sorta over tired from a weekend spent in Portland, Maine, for my (okay, and my husbandès too) youngest sonès...oops...French keyborad...key BOARD... in play...hold on...there we go...the kid's hockey...
Here's a few things I learned:
-driving in a snowstorm is rough. Scary rough. So its good to have chocolate hidden in your purse that there's NO WAY you're sharing with your 12 year old.
-a 5 hour trip took 7
-finding the STUPID hotel in the STUPID snowstorm is really nerve wracking and AHHHH! We finally found it. Right up the hill from....
-I love Chipotle ...and no, it's NOT "chip-ottle", it's "chip-ohh-tlay"
-I cannot stand the traffic patterns in and around Maine Mall Road in south Portland.
-Marden's had prom dresses on sale for 60$, I pondered buying one, because, heck, everyone needs a prom dress with giant, fake rhinestones on the, umm, "front". And yes, I did ask myself "Just how stupid will you look in this? Because you need to think about your assets and how freaky-bad that many rhinsetones will look across your upper hemisphere."
-sound that out, I said "rinse-tones"
-"If You're 51? Just Say No To Prom Dresses"
-when a lovely Acadienne friend says "...to 95" she actually meant "295". I take the full blame for the trip on the I-95 to a sweet little town called "Falmouth". And noooooooooo, NOT "Fall-mith" like we'd say up in my neck of the woods, but "FAHL-MOWTH" like the toll booth attendant practically spit at me whilst yelling those words in my face from 2 feet away.
-Monique Levert (Leh-Verrrrre) and I HOWLED with laughter at that...then I got us lost in FAHLMOWTH...which resulted in more laughter and then the recitation of the alphabet , in French. At least let's pretend that's what she was muttering as she looked out her window.
- *WE* did not give the opposing team's moms the evil eye during the final games, so that blond chick should have taken a moment and un-tangled her poor eyebrows and set them free. I love it when 5 foot tall fake blondes (or any fake colour) try to look intimidating. Umm, really? Glaring the stink eyes at the other team's parents? A team of 12 year olds, by the way. Children. So WHAT would possess a person to try to make the other mothers nervous? Like, what? Are YOU the team goon??? You gonna come at me? I dare you, I have a heavy purse and I know how to swing it! Besides, you just looked BEYOND lame, chickie.
-that game was NOT the Olympics, but we won anyway
-the drive home was fine, nary a snowflake anywhere...just the lovely moon and starts, instead.
I think I'm ready for bed...because my laptop is tilting over...or is it me?
I'll know in a second if I smack my nose on the floor.