You know, it’s just like, one day, you’re all just boppin’ around in your life and moanin’ about how sucky everything is, and the next day, you find out that your coworker was arrested by the FBI for submitting a threat against the President.  And, ya know, ain’t that just a kick in the teeth?

****

I’m in the stylist’s chair yesterday and I mention casually that my son has a foot deformity.  My stylist, naturally, inquires about the nature of the deformity, and I launch into the entire saga of the Lucky Foot.  She listens quietly as I begin talking about the impending leg-legthening procedure.. something that still haunts me, even the THOUGHT of it.. and she says, “Well, the reason I asked is because I was born with foot deformities, too.  On both feet.  They said I would never walk.  And that, honey, was 30 some odd-years ago, so don’t EVER feel like you can’t overcome something.”

So there.

****

Even though we didn’t buy a single thing, the hours The Real Housewives of Huntsville spent shopping yesterday made me feel like the richest woman in the world.  I think Bravo should TOTALLY televise us, and we could have the tagline, “It doesn’t TAKE a rocket scientist.. but it helps.”

****

I waited a full 48 hours in order to avoid spoiling TiVo viewers, but can I just gush about my love of Carla on Top Chef and how I was SO pulling for her?  And completely sodomized I felt when they gave the title to, not even Stefan who has the chops to back it up, but.. HOSEA?  Whose only success on the show was being the douchiest soul-patch loser to cheat on his girlfriend with the crazy-you-knew-was-gonna-skank-it-up?

Carla initially did not win my love because.. well.. she was a bit too quirky for me.  I know.  I KNOW.  But then I realized she reminded me of someone.. someone I really, really love..

Do you see it?!

I kid, but seriously, I do adore her.  Her quirky “Hoo-dee-HOOS” made their way into my soul like a siren’s song, and then she made gumbo.  I was hooked.  She cooked with love, and as she cultivated that, the judges quit laughing about that phrase and realized.. hey.. it’s actually quite possible to TASTE love.

Thank you, Carla.  I’ll eat your love anytime.

.. wait a minute ..

****

Fabio, I’ll eat your love anytime.  ANYTIME.

****

The Binja got tired of the baby gate last night and ripped the sucker down.  I forgot about it until I crawled into bed, and a certain someone joined me.

I don’t condone this sort of thing, you know.  You can see the look of disapproval on my face.

But it’s hard to argue with those eyes.

****

I just came to the realization that I have had NO caffeine in recent memory.  What is WRONG with me?

****

ZZZZzzzz.

I love living in Alabama.  I really, really do.  The people here are amazing, and the food?  Oh, don’t even get me started on the food.  The weather is mild, other than the occasional tornado, and the sunsets are strokes of magic.

But there’s one thing about Alabama that severely grates on my nerves.

It is illegal in our state to sell sex toys.

And that?  That, my friends, is just stupid.

In my state, you can buy a gun.  You know, you can actually buy your KID a gun.  In fact, one of my workers bought his five year old daughter a pink gun for Christmas. (The pics were actually very cute and precious.) You can walk into any WalMart and purchase bullets.  If you’re of the right age, you can buy tobacco, alcohol, and a host of other things that can eventually kill you.

Has anyone ever been killed by a vibrator?  ANYONE?  And, frankly, if they have, wouldn’t that be Darwinism in action?

I’ve been a long time friend and fan of the sex toy stand.  In Louisiana, the Adult Emporium in Alexandria knew me by name.  When I managed a visit to Minneapolis/St. Paul, I made SURE to visit Sex World, a three-story mecca.  And locally, we have Pleasures in Huntsville, who is struggling to continuously fight the battle and maintain the right to remain open.

I ranted on a blog about this, and Drew from EdenFantasys contacted me to commisserate on this unholy law, especially since his site offers a fabulous array of sex toys and lingerie.  After a few brief exchanges, he asked the most amazing thing I’ve ever been asked: “Would you like to review one of my products?”

And the angels sang, and the clouds parted, and all was well with the world.

I visited the website one night with Bryan looking over my shoulder, and I just drooled.  Did you know that some vibrators cost upwards of $150?!  Holy crap!!  Naturally, I REALLY wanted to try one of those (do they cook dinner for you first and then do the deed?), but something else caught my eye:

The Hitachi Magic Wand Vibrator.

I had been exposed to the tale of this particular toy twice.   Once, when I was playing a Fairy Godmother in a children’s production and the male director (I kid you not) asked if I owned the Hitachi, and when I shook my head in a totally naive grossed-out way, suggested I would live to regret it if I did not run out and by myself one immediately.  And of course, everyone remembers the Sex & the City episode where Samantha tries to return hers to Sharper Image.

And I was all, “YEAH!  That’s what I’m talking about!  A sex toy you could buy at Sharper Image!  Cause it’s classy!”

The box arrived like a godsend on the day after we learned about The Tax Situation of 2008, and I was giddy to try it.  I actually tried it on Bryan first.. ON HIS SHOULDERS, YOU PERVERTS, GEESH.. and I’ll be dadgummed, the thing is quite powerful.

Pros:

• It plugs in.  No more checking out shame at Costco when you have 3 48-packs of batteries in your cart! (THEY KNOW.)
• The instruction manual was very cheeky, which tickled me.  They wrote it so that THEY KNOW what you bought the thing for, but they’re gonna pretend ::winkwinknudgenudge:: that you want it for MASSAGE.
• It resembles a microphone, which is what you can tell your kids it is.  And then giggle with sadistic glee that they’re crooning “Smoke on the Water” into a sex toy.
• HOLY O, BATMAN.  Seriously.  SRSLY.  OHMYHEAVENS.

Cons:

• It really is a bit bulky.  You catch on after awhile, but it’s quite large. (THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID.)

And the best part..?!

Drew at EdenFantasys has given me the privilage of awarding one to a lucky reader!  I AM SO EXCITED TO DO THIS!   I so often review stuff, but I rarely get the opportunity to share a great thing with you!

Okay, so here’s the deal: leave me a comment telling me the name of your favorite sex toy.  And I don’t mean “Hitachi Magic Wand Vibrator”.. I mean, “Mr. Purple” or “The Great White Hope”.  We all know we give our toys names.  What’s yours? (Mine are listed up there, btw.  I haven’t named the Magic Wand.  Maybe Bibbity Bobbity?)

Leave your sex toy name in the comment section, and if you’ve never owned one or you don’t name them, leave that too!  I’ll keep this contest running a full week, so a winner will be chosen NEXT WEDNESDAY.   I’ll put reminders up before the end, but get in quick!  (One comment/entry per person, pretty please.)

HAVE FUN, AND GET VIBRATING!!

So last week, Bryan and I were giddy with money-dreams.. you know, the dreams where you know that not only is payday around the corner, but so is your TAX REFUND, and you bought a HOUSE this year, and you paid $7K in daycare, and there is mucho dinero just right.around.the.corner!.. and we decided to go out to eat.  We almost never do this during the week, but I was tired and he was tired and the baby was NOT and we said, “You know what?  I think we can afford to eat out tonight.  Let’s SPLURGE.  We’re getting our tax refund back soon anyway.”

We made this deal while we were both still at work.  Bryan walked in the door and gave me this speech, carefully crafted his entire drive home: “Honey, there’s good news and bad news.  The good news is that I love you VERY much..” and then I stopped listening because the bad news must be the equivalent of “I’m starring on the next installment of Dateline: To Catch a Predator” when the good news is so obviously and horribly inflated.

He went on for some time, outlining our blessing and some other bullshit, and finally I asked, “And the bad news?”

“We owe $800 in taxes.”

I didn’t even have words.  No words.  Just sat there, slack-jawed, paused in between shoveling spoonfuls of baby yogurt into Binja’s mouth.  I mean, cause, damn.  Damn.  DAMN!

It took most of that evening for the truth to settle in: there would be no money this year.  None.  In fact, the company bonus I’d just received would barely keep us afloat.  March was always where we caught up, got ahead.  Not this year.  “It is what it is,” I said out loud, A LOT, trying to convince myself.  It was like having the $8 million powerball spent in my head, parceled out to the last dime, and THEN going and buying your ticket.  Money we never had, so no real loss.

SO, in light of that, I offer you a List of Things I Would’ve Bought with Our Tax Refund.

The walls in our bedroom are a soft sage, and our bedding is a robin’s egg blue and chocolate brown.  The fact that the blue and the green clash has been driving my OCD self MAD FOR A YEAR NOW. (But my lazy self wins out because I could’ve just repainted the room already.) Anyway, so this lush bedding set plays off the green in our room and has a breezy, spa-like relaxation to it.  I lurve it.  Of course, it’s only a duvet cover, so I’d need..

A fluffy new down comforter!  Everytime I travel, I stay in really nice hotels that have really nice linens and really nice down bedding.  And I sleep SO FREAKIN WELL.  (Of course, the solo bed and lack of children MAY have something to do with.  As may room service.) So I’ve been dying for a new down comforter and featherbed for us to nestle into everynight.

A new pair of workout sneakers for me.  My husband goes through about 8 pairs of sneakers a year, and I’m always aghast that he can do that and he’s all, “But I wear them EVERY DAY, Sarah!”.  I have worn the same pair of New Balance shoes since I was twenty-one years old, and they’re STILL what I wear to work out.  Of course, I don’t think this is healthy, especially considering they don’t even make that shoe anymore, so I’ve settled on a new pair.

Oh, my Kitchen-Aid stand mixer in lime.. I weep for yet another year we must be apart.  But soon, my darling.  SOON.

Seriously, we may have to get this anyway.  Because HOW FREAKIN’ CUTE IS THAT GIRAFFE?!  And the child is growing like kudzu anyway, so why not make some historical significance out of the fact that I must reclothe him three times a month?  Also, in that same vein..

I officially ADORE these frames that you stick on the wall around pictures.  This would look awesome down our hallway, where it’s scary to actually hang things because we are constantly subjected to Earthquakes by The Boy. (Okay, I could pretty much spend ALL of ANYONE’S tax refund at IKEA.)

And to show that I’m not TOTALLY selfish and I would buy something for Bryan, too, I was totally going to buy this:

Granted, I wasn’t going to pay for the shipping of the women, cause human freight is a BIATCH, but the pole?  Was totally gonna get one.  It’s part of that new Flirty Girl Fitness routine, where you lose weight by acting like Sane Britney Spears.  I may still ask if I can purchase the DVD in anticipation of some random lump sum of money, and then this will be bumped to the top of our priority list. 

BUT.. as it is.. the lottery is not ours this year.  So, knowing our cash flow will not suddenly ebb and knowing that we’ll have to find some cheap way to entertain ourselves, I think we’ll be procuring this:

Why, you may ask?  Because if you want cheap entertainment and you can’t afford your own pole, you visit your local gentlemen’s club during Rookie Night and slather THEIR pole up with this.