Beyond the Door

The doorbell rang, sending the dog into a barking frenzy. She looked at her dough covered hands and glanced toward the door.


"Hey guys..?"
Silence.
"Hello? Hello..? Can someone get the door..?" she called over her shoulder through the house.
Nothing. 


Scowling at her hands, she flicked her wrists to remove some of the gunk stuck between all of her fingers and her wedding ring. She should have taken it off to make the rolls, but hadn't. 


"Kids -doorbell!"she yelled, listening for movement. She cursed the headphones she had bought for their new video game system. 
The doorbell rang again. More barking.
"Ugh." she sighed. dang kids. 


Holding her hands like a surgeon, she walked toward the door, looking at the dark form in the glass. The dog paced around the foyer.
She clumsily crossed her forearms to try to turn the knob, giving up and using two sticky slimy hands to try to turn the knob. The slippery dough didn't make it easy and she leaned over the knob trying to gain traction. She felt the knob turn. "Finally..", she muttered, swinging the door wide with her elbow, her hands still upturned to keep the dough from dropping.


She stared. 


"Hi", he said and smiled, the sun shining around the back of his head like a halo. 
Surprised eyes and a slow smile spread over her face. "Hi..."she said back, feeling tears as she stared at the camouflage uniform, weathered tan skin and complete and utter wonderfulness of reality. 
She hugged him, smelling his familiar scent as she snuggled her head into his neck.


He was home. 
He was safe. 


Outside, the snow began to fall. 













This post is dedicated to all those serving away from their loved ones this holiday season. It was inspired by the following prompt:  use the holiday season to inspire you to write a 
piece beginning with “The doorbell rang” and ending with “snow began to fall.”

All I Want for Christmas is NOT Thong Underwear

See Video. Go ahead, watch it a few times...


Beautiful ladies.. Sexy kitten voices and spectacular undies. And jealousy of the alien forms wearing them (Talk about the 1%..).







The commercial asks men to do the following: 


Tell me you love me.
Tell me you want me
Tell me you miss me.
Excite me.
Dazzle me.
Delight me.
Tell me there is no other woman in the world... like me. 


Good stuff, right? So why is this video annoying me today? 
I like pretty, sexy ladies. 


I have received VS goods several times as a sort of "gift that keeps on giving" and I completely get it. But somehow the idea that the way to tell a woman, an EVERY-WOMAN that you love, want, miss, her, etc. is by ordering her tiny, uncomfortable underthings makes me think man someone, somewhere is missing the point. 


I think whoever created this commercial knew the short staccato instructions produced are what men like, especially from half naked supermodels. 


Good work. 


But the person who wrote this failed to write a commercial with the gift recipient in mind because, if they had asked, would probably learn that women just want you to TELL them those things. 


And not with underwear. 
With REAL WORDS.  
But that wouldn't sell much underwear, now would it?


*Overshare Alert*


Tough guy Special Agent wouldn't want me to tell you he is sappy and romantic, but he is. While he isn't afraid to buy some fancy underthangs, he has wisely done the pre-work to hopefully see such underthangs at a later date. 


He also has good timing. 


I was thinking of an earlier Onion, a post-partum onion who couldn't bear to look at VS catalogs (and certainly not commercials of anorexic women dressed as angels) when I wasn't too comfortable with my current state of being. At that moment in time, receiving anything where the exposure of midsection or thighs existed might have made me burst into tears, right there in my Mrs. Roper Mu-mu and nursing bra. 


Special Agent recognized this and instead bought me jewelry. 
He's a keeper.  


So, male readers (all two of you), this year, before maxing out the plastic, tell your not-tall, not-thin, not-flawless woman that:


You love her
You want her.
You miss her.


Excite her.
Dazzle her.
Delight her.
Tell her there is no other woman in the world... like her.


TELL her all of that...and you won't need lingerie. 

Layer Exposed: Looking for a Silver Lining

Blogger is not working well for me today, and I am blaming my lack of success as a famous writer on this issue. (ahem). Moving on.

I am trying to fix it, so the comments section is more of a pop-up now instead. Please comment so I  can become a millionaire know it's working.

A silver lining of poking around in the settings is that Blogger appears to have added an option to make my blog more mobile friendly! Everyone likes a mobile friendly blog, so please to enjoy on your I-phone or archaic Blackberry like all of the little people (me) still use.

And, because I hate to waste your time with multiple Blogger whine posts, here is a fun video!

I like to pull goat ears..

Blogger Blogger Short and Stout; Find Your Head and Pull it out...

Come ON, man...

Blogger appears to be having some issues with commenting, in that some of my posts don't have a comments LINK, and won't let me choose a profile in order to POST a comment on other blogger's sites. 


Annoying. 


I am SURE that I would have gone viral by now if only it weren't for Blogger. 


Yeah..that's it. 

'Tis the Season to Catch Up with the Mentally Ill - Layers Rewind

Hi to all,


The holidays are upon us (Happy Hanukkah!) and I am seriously thinking about making sea salt truffles and laying on the couch. Instead, I am working. Still, when I think of high-end chocolate, I can't help but think of JJ, and when I will see him again. I sure hope it isn't on the 10:00 news. 


A post from last year about a chance meeting with my old pal. 

***************************************

I was in a rush this morning, and although all of you assume I go to the grocery store looking GREAT in my tiara and hotpants, today my hair was a bit of a fright. I was comparison shopping for high end baking chocolate to continue my love affair with the PW truffles and butter toffee and was literally RACING back and forth between aisles, muttering to myself like a crazy person with bad hair.


I made my selection and was headed back to put the non-sale candy bars back when I saw JJ (names have been changed to protect the mentally unbalanced..and me FROM the mentally unbalanced) racing TOWARD me down the same aisle. We physically collided. I smiled and said hi, as I have known JJ since junior high, and seem to run across him randomly about every two years. He looked overly happy to see me in my candy bar and bad hair frenzy and said "Hey, I was trying to chase you down!". Huh? While JJ and I know each other because he annoyed me daily when he sat behind me in Mr. Hall's 8th grade Social Studies class, we weren't friends in school. In fact, i don't know WHO JJ was friends with, as he was a bit of an oddity even then. He was a smidge of 'Bender' in The Breakfast Club, all about the inappropriate language and classroom outbursts and also like some of the folks I see on the 16th street mall in Denver. Except friendlier, like that guy who talks to you the whole flight. Mix that all together. 

A little Bender, plus...





Talky guy on plane, plus...







This sweet specimen = JJ





This crazy JJ fellow is always happy to see me, and I must admit, it is always an adventure seeing him. I saw him many years ago when I had first returned to the area. I was working at a bank, which was the worst job I have ever held. It was stifling. From the lowly teller line, I could see JJ sitting, slumped in a chair in the loan department, looking bored, his foot up on a chair leg in the waiting area. He waved, I waved and then slunk back to my prison of a job. He didn't look nervous...just annoyed to have been kept waiting by the banker...at 21 years old. As I left for lunch, i caught a glimpse of JJ, riding down the road on a new (to him) motorcycle. It wasn't fancy, but he looked like a kid on Christmas Day as the wind whipped his Bender style haircut. He was grinning hugely, and gave me a big military style salute. The loan was for this bike, and he has gotten it. Of course he had. 



In the grocery aisle, JJ didn't let my shock bother him one bit, and instead launched into a story about (I think?) quitting smoking. I smiled and said "good for you", which only inspired more talking about the following things:

(Please picture me smashed against the spice racks, holding 6 giant candy bars against my chest with a terrified smile on my face, trying to look relaxed. Add a lot of nodding)

 - Murder (I suggested adding murder to his quitting smoking list since our reunion is in a few years, but he said it was OK, since no one would find the bodies. Seriously.)

 -  Dominating the scrap iron business - he felt his success could also lead to retribution by his competitors and would need to start "carrying a gun again." Yep, he said again.

 

 - His Girlfriend - he loves this one, so they are NOT going the "ripping each other's clothes off" route this time. She has had an extended illness, so there may or may not be an issue with her legs - I was unclear on that. However, he did tell me she was beautiful with long blond hair (i thought of my own shaggy hair at this moment - WHY?), and that her t*ts were just were just where they should be (ahem.). Most Excellent. We agreed I had probably heard enough descriptors at that point. (OK, maybe I said that.) He threw his head back and laughed, saying "Stacie, you are cracking me up!"

 - Several physical altercations - i can't really describe what I heard here, as he was getting pretty animated.  I did hear every swear word I know, even the ones you NEVER hear...and especially not in the baking aisle at 9:15 in the morning. He was acting out some of the fighting, so he was pointing his finger one inch from my face as he demonstrated the tirade he gave to someone who had it coming. I know my eyes were freakishly wide, although I was trying to pretend this was all old hat to me. ((Nervous giggle, while looking around nervously)) Passersby seemed to be considering dialing 911.

 - Drug use - not his, but a lot of other people who were "gobbling up 'shrooms in the poolhouse" (Poolhouse?? in Wyoming?) and "taking more than their TIME.. (wink!)", etc. I have some new catch phrases for drug use now, anyhow.

 - Financial Stability - I should be honest and say that I know not a thing about JJ, including where he lived or lives. His father was also a bit of an eccentric, lived out of town on land with a spray painted graphic (and misspelled) sign to potential trespassers at the entrance.  I can't say if either were financially set as I was told today. However, maybe they are? According to JJ, it's remarkable. And why wouldn't I believe it? He has told me everything else this morning.

 Do you have a good visual? I hope so. Don't be afraid. Although JJ has apparently put the smack down on many, and seems slightly off balance, here is the weirdest thing:

Seeing JJ made my morning today. As I shared the story with others who knew JJ from back in the day, I couldn't stop smiling. As I write this, I still can't. JJ is a colorful character and a part of my history, and made the effort to chase me down at 9:15 am, even though he had finished his shopping JUST to share a bit of time telling me how things are going and even to ask a bit about me. JJ is a character, but one that made my mundane morning a little less mundane, you know?

Merry Christmas JJ. It was nice to see you. Please don't kill anyone in 2011.  

Your Profile Pic Can Beat Up My Profile Pic

I need to update my Facebook photo. 


Sigh. Don't wanna.


I am starting to feel like one of those obituary photos of people who died when they were 90, but have a photo next to their life story which is of them when they were 30. I am the Dick Clark of profile pictures. 


I loathe having my photo taken, mostly because I am then reminded that THAT is what i really look like. Photos taken of me, by me, are even worse. I clearly need to take a class from teenagers regarding how to take the perfect long armed, doe-eyed, side glance shot using a trac phone and some bad lighting.


Still, as I troll scroll through Facebook, I am annoyed astounded by the number of truly lovely profile pics people have posted on their page. Who takes these lovely shots on the fly and manages to look so beautiful, elegant and artful? Um..my friends. 

Seriously, who is this fucking fabulous, looking like a shot from Mad Men?

Urban male species, looking hip and cool even while picking his fingernails?

Elegant and thoughtful, confident...what gives? 

My long-lost friend E.J., who outgrew and out-cooled me 

with little effort. Even the dog is cool.

I went back and looked at my profile pic options, straining to see a *glimpse* of what I see in the above photos. 

My folders contains photos of me:

1. In a bar

2. Looking very Republican, wearing a name tag in a photo with a politician

3. Windblown hair on the back of a 4-wheeler.. (wait for it)holding a dog

4. A photo of a turkey

5. A photo of Wonder Woman (my favorite)

Facebook fail. 




P.S. My friend over at Absolutely Narcissism wrote a HEE-LARIOUS post about working to get just the right profile shot taken by her unwilling family. Maybe I need to work harder. Read it here.

Lazy at the Layers

Because I am still in my pajamas.
Because I am supposed to be in the car RIGHT NOW picking up the baboos from their Friday volunteer job at the Science Center

But mostly, because I miss my brother at the holidays, I wanted to share this with you.

I would say more, but this well spoken gentleman says it best.

For Christmas, I wish for a world where we didn't look for the differences in each other.