Pondering Tuesday...Where's My Job?

I Was A Fifth Grade Prom Queen

And Other Lies I Tell Myself.

Fifth grade was my best year ever. Which is kind of bad when you're 44 years old. That means I had my best year 34 years ago... At least I had one.

 I feel the need to share it with you. Because that's what we do. We share.  So here goes:

THE TOP TEN BEST THINGS ABOUT MY 5TH GRADE YEAR, AKA LIFE...

1. Jaunita...'nuff said.
2. Mr. Terbush. He was my teacher and I was madly in love with him. He was handsome and played the guitar and most important I was his favorite student in the whole world....Trust me, I  know these things.
3. I almost won the "princess" of our class contest. There was a tie between me and Angelina, and I graciously allowed her to have it. I humbly said, 'You darling, you be Princess.' Actually I couldn't face knowing I lost if I would've lost...so now I'll never know, and I'm at peace. It was a good call.
4. I received a couple of love poems from Richard, a short round boy who wore glasses. He was very sweet, and I was flattered.
5. Tim, the red-head  liked me. He was taller, so I liked him back.
6. I got to be crossing-guard at recess. A dream come true. It included a bright orange vest, an orange stick, and power. I took it very seriously.  I wish I still had the stick.
7. Mr. Terbush. I'm sorry, but he deserves to be on here twice. He was after all the first love of my life. I hated the weekends...I LOVE YOU MR. TERBUSH! WILL YOU MARRY ME?
8. Bobby, who I played 'foursquare' with everyday. And then I told him I liked him. And he looked horrified and said something like "ew, gross!" Oh, well.  Tim the redhead knew a good thing when he saw one.
9. I made a conservation poster and won an 'honorable mention' ribbon. I was thrilled.  Little did  I know I should have polyurethaned it and super-glued it to my body, permanently. This was before I clued in to the fact I wasn't crafty. Or artsy. Or musical.
10. I had to get glasses. And I tried my hardest to fail the hearing test, but my hearing proved fine. Bummer! What could possibly be more awesome? Glasses AND a hearing aid...

Yep, Fifth grade. I could still spit water through the gap in my front teeth. I told ya I was a prom queen!

Speaking Of Short People

My 3 kids...oldest is 5'10, middle is  5'10,...and thankfully the baby  is a petite 5'8, size 10 shoe.
My prayers were answered.


It's true. I've always wanted to be tiny. As in itty-bitty, teeny-weeny, yellow polka dot bikini. However, since I hail from the land of Largeness, I've instead developed an un-natural obsession for little people. Take my parents for example. They're fairly small. My dad is 5'9 and my mom is 5'6. And I'm obsessed with them. In that, how did you two do this to me? sort of way. My mom reminds me she had a brother who was 6'11.

Oh, so there's pure freakishness in my genes. That explains much, concerning my muchness.

It started in the fifth grade with my BFF Juanita.
After accepting the rejection of Holly Bashford,who wasn't that short anyway, I moved on and found a new friend I could keep with me at all times in my back pocket.

Juanita was my own little "polly pocket", and she looked up to me. Literally.

Actually, I'm pretty sure I was like a Mother to her. After all, I already wore a 'extra-support' bra, was taller than the teacher, and had the distinct ability of taking charge.

Juanita was the smallest kid in class, and I was the tallest. Weighing less than 40 pounds, her voice was no louder than a squeak, while mine was a deep husky boom.

Oh, how I loved her. My little Juanita was so cute and adorable and she was Mexican. When I went to spend the night at her house, I couldn't understand a word her family said to me. I only knew I'd had to duck to enter the front door.


Like two magnets irresistibly drawn together we were INSTANT best friends.
We had nothing in common, and I don't remember talking very much to each other. Did Juanita speak English? All I know is that we understood each other, sat by each other everyday at lunch, and were BFF's.

I love you short people...everywhere...if you need me to carry you on my hip somewhere I will. :)

Amazon Woman Goes Beserk!

Okay. It Has To Be Addressed:

What, praytell, must be addressed?
Oh, you know. The fact that I'm an Amazon.
We might as well discuss it and get it out of the way.

I'm sure you had no idea I was an Amazon Woman. You thought I was on the small, petite, short, cute, reasonably chubby side of life. Didn't you?
Or, you thought I was medium, beautiful, gorgeous, sorta kinda tall, and reasonably chubby. Didn't you?
But you didn't know I was gigantic, large, very large, huge, humongous, and almost beyond reasonably chubby. DID YOU?
Whew. I didn't think so. Because if you did know and you didn't tell me, why, I don't know what I would do...Prank call you? Saran wrap your toilet seat? Lash out and say ugly things? Yo mama wears army boots. But, you didn't know. Now you do. We all do and I feel so much better.
Thus, I give you proof.
Did I really just say 'thus'?

Look at the picture above.
No, stare at it.
Do you see what I see? My BOOBs are the same size as the new families heads. And, I'm 7ft. tall. I had to get on my knees just to be in the picture.
Shocking, isn't it?
I don't know why I'm so shocked. I've always been the tallest in my class. It all began at birth. Hospital nursery? Tallest. Entire human race? Tallest. New York City skyline? Tallest. Always the Tallest. And now the Biggest.
There are some benefits to being an Amazon. For example, I need not fear running out of gas on a lonesome, dark highway. I can pick the car up with my brute strength, which all Amazons possess, and carry it on my back to the nearest gas station. I can also carry 5 children on one hip at the same time. And cook supper while sewing matching denim jumpers for the family. Yes, these are the benefits. Who cares if I can't find a jogbra that fits even after looking for hours and going to thousands upon thousands of stores?

Let me know if you need help with any heavy lifting...