Background: Ever since I was a young girl I always wondered why some things were named/called what they are. For instance, why is a giraffe a giraffe? Why isn’t an elbow called a giraffe? I mean who named everything? Did someone just start making stuff up and calling whatever they saw some goofy name? Or is there some sort of science to the whole naming process?

I know new words are added all the time, just look at the urban dictionary (commonly referred to as the slang dictionary). I even posted about a pidge once and I found that definition in the urban dictionary. That post serves as a nice reminder that if you are planning on naming something, you just might consider looking your word up in the urban dictionary first!

Seriously though, did any of you ever think about it? Why is a dog a dog and a boob a boob? It’s been stumping me for years.

In all honesty, I was a little hesitant to meet him at this gym because I knew that stepper was created by the devil as a torture device. So far, true to rumor, it kills me. All I need is 10 minutes before my regular workout and I’m sweating bullets and breathing heavier than I have in years.

Background: Have you ever been to the zoo when an elephant had to pee? OMG what a sight. It’s like a couple of gallons of water come pouring out. The kids and I found it kind of funny, definitely interesting to see. However, I did feel a little bad that that poor guy was peeing right in front of us.

But one minute later I no longer felt bad because he pooped. He pooped a mere 20 feet from where we were standing.

It was like the mother load of poo falling from that humongous elephant ass. It made a big huge splat sound, one that I will never, ever be able to forget.

As it hit I started to gag, I had to turn away and hold back the puke. It took me at least 10 minutes to recover, it was that gross.

I can hardly pick up my dogs poo and I can never watch my friends 75 lb dog poo without gagging.

I hate poo, I hate looking at it, talking about it and god forbid touching it. It is one of the reasons all three of my kids were potty trained at 2 years old, I hate poo.

If I start remembering it too much my eyes are going to start watering and my gag reflex is going to kick in.

I just don’t understand how that elephant knew I was coming?

Background: I’ve always wondered what is acceptable fandom. Certainly being a groupie isn’t all that bad, right? I think I’m officially a groupie now.

I’ve followed a popular blog, the pioneer woman for over three years. I’ve been a pretty avid, devoted reader ever since. Even doing dumb things like sending her the occasional email from time to time because I feel connected to her. What 40 year old women with a few kids (give or take) wouldn’t? She’s witty, real, interesting and living a life very different than my own.

She was signing books at my local Barnes and Noble tonight beginning at 7:30 pm. I struggled with going. I kind of shy away from fan fare. I ended up going with the kids (after I bribed them with a dinner (gluten free) at Maggiano’s). The kids have always known I read her and they all (except Eamon who eats nothing) love her lasagna.

I have to say she was cute and pretty much exactly how I pictured her. She comes across in real life exactly how she writes and exactly how you’d expect her to come across. Made me wish we could share more than a brief ‘sign my books’ session. As it turned out I spent more time talking to her husband than her (he’s pretty nice too).

But there are two important things I want to share.

1. she gave out really, really cool t-shirts. I had the family take pictures of me in it (not the best) but it’s pretty cute, check it out…..

2. When I was talking to her while she signed my books, she made a small little mistake on one of them. She spelled my girlfriends name wrong. I’m a little shy about pointing out mistakes people make, but I did buy the book after all and I had already corrected the lady who wrote out the post it note. So, my girlfriend, Cristina (surprise if you are reading this, I knew you couldn’t make the LA signing so I will send the book by next week, Merry Christmas!LOL) was spelled Christina. I noticed right away and I almost didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t sure what the heck we were going to do about it. But then I said something like “oh I’m so sorry to point this out, but your spelled my girlfriends name wrong, could you just, you know fix it really quick, like cross it off or something”.

She was so cute, she looked at the ‘worker lady’ that may have been a barnes and noble employee and said “can I just buy her another book and start over?” To which I replied, “no, no, don’t do that this is my girlfriend and she really likes you and can’t make your signing in LA and she will completely understand and find some humor in this, just correct it somehow and it will be completely fine.” So, here is a picture of what she did:

I absolutely love that she was willing to be so cool and work with it. I know Cristina will love it!

Anyway, we were home by 8:30pm. My girls said that “Mrs. Drummond was really nice,” which we all know means she was nice because kids don’t lie.

It’s 10pm and I’m going to bed and feeling a little sorry for Ree because I know she’s still signing books (I was number 15 out of at least 250). I hope that road trip to Minneapolis isn’t too painful for her tomorrow.

Anyone else a groupie?

Background: is it when you say to your fighting 9 and 8 year olds:

“I’m going to come in there and knock your heads together and put you to bed and make you miss school”?

Of course, they immediately stopped their bickering but am I losing it? I can hardly believe I even said it, thought it, maybe even would have done it. Yikes.

Maybe I haven’t been blogging enough and it’s causing me to lose my mind.

(this just in… my 8 year old son just walked in and asked if I was serious about knocking their heads together, and I replied, “I think I was”. He ran and told his sister he won, I was going to do it, God help me.)