My Mommy's House

Sitting on the bed that was my grandmother's. It's an old comfy bed. Like sleeping on a cloud. Some people would think it too soft, but not I! Has REAL springs from the old days! Snuggly nice. I wake up to the smell of breakfast cooking. Mommy singing, "Tessie boo! Time to get up!" Oh it's so fun to be loved.

Mom and Dad are fun to watch. They putter around the house, doing their little chores. At one point, I was cutting Dad's hair, when sister get-along-home-Cindy arrives with some sort of gadget in her hand. She says, "I don't like your nozzle, Dad, so I thought you might want to try this one." He looks at me and I say, "Cin, let's not talk about our father's nozzle!" Ha ha. After the salon session is over, we go into the kitchen and Mom is standing there with a ruler. She bends down to measure something around my father's ... well ... nozzle! He says, "What are you measuring?" She says, "I want to see how long your shorts are because I was going to buy you some new ones." (For those of you from foreign lands, we call short pants "shorts" here in the U.S.) She stands up and smartly states, "Seven inches." I can't even imagine what it would be like for someone to come up to me with a ruler for any reason at all. Silly people.

So today, we will have everyone over for hot dogs and hamburgers and margaritas. Probably play a board game or two. Oh wait, Becky isn't here. She's the board game queen. Maybe tomorrow!

But here's the real story. When I arrived last night, we decided to go to Applebee's to feed Graci, who was starving. Graci is my niece. Erika (baby sis and Graci's mum) and Katie (another niece) joined us. I wasn't hungry, but I did order their special white peach sangria. And the waitress asked me for I.D. I'm not fuckin' kidding you. Well of course, at 46, it's a pleasure to show your I.D., right? Well do you think I had my I.D.? Noooo! I used it at the airport, so I had left it in my other bag! Hahahaha. I swear to God, she almost didn't sell me the fucking drink! Everyone at the table said, "Well I have I.D.! Sell it to me!" Now don't get me wrong. This waitress was as cute as can be. And I began to nervously tell her the story of why I didn't have my I.D. (as if I were being interrogated by the FBI) saying that I just flew in and I live in California, and I was from here, and this is my sister and these are my nieces and I'm just visiting, as I said, but I grew up here, as we all did here at the table... and as I rambled, she became more nervous about having pressed me for my proof of age. I just kept thinking, "Can you just go away so I can stop this endless chatter that I can't seem to keep from pouring out of my mouth?" She finally conceded to giving me the drink, but only if I promised to eat food off of the other people's plates (Utah's other-plate law).

Erika said, "Teri, you went a little overboard with the TMI there."

It was a good drink, though.

I'm Off To See the Wizard!

Ah, the Emerald City! How it shines! Yes, kids, I'm talking about Salt Lake City, to which I'm bound! I'll be there late tonight and tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, I'll be coddled by the family-ness. And I'll get to kiss that sweet BrynLeigh Jade's face. I may be in blog-land from time to time, but I'm not making any promises!

So for now, I'll leave you with this ~ compliments of ba doozie! (I think I saw this restaurant on North Temple):

My Baby Girl

My daughter phoned me at one a.m. Now some might think it is no fun to be awakened at one a.m. for any reason at all. I never mind it. Especially if it's my daughter's voice I get to hear on the other end. A lovely girl, who can't figure out why people never tell her what bugs them about her. I mean, honestly, there is nothing wrong with her! There is nothing unpleasant about being with her! She has an opinion, but she's not opinionated. She is friendly to a fault. Her smile lights up a room. And even when she has to be mean to the drunks at the bar, she is nice about it. Firm, but nice. She's had a couple of scrappers. One guy was tossing barstools around and while everyone stood there in shock, Erin pressed him up against the wall, told him he had to go, and then proceeded to press him on out the door (which she then closed and locked while the police were called). She's small of frame. I believe she's about 5'6" (taller than her mother by at least two inches). Long, blonde hair and BIG blue eyes. Eyes that stop traffic. Every woman she meets feels protective toward her and every man she meets dies inside at the knowledge that he can't possess her. She's sexy, she's funny, she's smart.

So there we were, on the phone together, she was on her bed, I was on mine. Together, apart. We laughed and cried. She's not much for small talk. Neither am I. So what we talk about matters. An hour and a half later, I chose to read a blog post to her as my parting words. You can read those Words of Wisdom here. :)

Teri Needs

My Stalker (Jenn) said I should type those two words into Google and see what hits came up. Here are the top three:

Teri seriously needs to create a no-close-up-unless-an-army-of-photoshop-assistants-are-within-50m clause in her contract.

That's probably true. Wait. I have a contract?

Teri needs saving.

Mmm hmmmm. Teri needs to be saved from her own damn self!

Teri needs meat.

Can't argue with that!

Tutu Me, Tutu You

Hey peeps! To enter the tiny tutu contest
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And give some love to Tutu Fantasy while you're at it!

While I'm at it, I'll tell you about my weekend. Well maybe not. I mean, after all that cuteness, I shouldn't talk about fucking. *wink*