Tag Archives: best friends

An Actual Conversation

ME: “Ok dude! So I know you will totally appreciate this because you know me very well and so you know that underneath all this sophistication *cough*Cough* lies a Myfa ghettofied girl, right? So shitty day… Yaddah yaddah yaddah… No beer in the fridge! No vodka and crystal light in sight. So!? Tonight? Tequila and koolaid!”

Cherry Kool-Aid is the bestest!

Cherry Kool-Aid is the bestest!

Cuz: “Hoooolly. Helll. U r straight ghetto tonight dude. Hilarious. I am not sure that’s gonna taste good.”

ME: “The Koolaid is yummy… Tequila is just a light aftertaste.”

Cuz: “Your creativity never ceases to AMAZE me :)”

ME: I’m from the hood … That’s how we roll! LOL… I can make you a bomb ass dinner too! From raccoon ass, one tomato and a pepper! Hahahaha!
You can even substitute raccoon with rat.. But only if necessary!”

ewww.... i was just kidding, google images dot com. YUCK

ewww.... i was just kidding, google images dot com. YUCK

Cuz: “You are like a McGyver in the kitchen!”


ME: “Haasaaaaaaa! Yup. Gimme a paperclip, a piece of bologna. And a piece of gum! I will make you an exploding device… AND dinner! Hahaha”


The Logic Of A Nine Year Old

Over dinner:

Big Mickey: “Mom? I been thinking a lot about this. And I think you really should take the t.v. out of our room.”

(insert very surprised look here… ) ever since they were wittle itty bitty babies they’ve ALWAYS had a TV in their room. In fact, they wouldn’t go to sleep without it at least on with no volume in the background.

Sort of a makeshift nightlight, if you will.

Oh sure, I’d get up and turn it off in the middle of the night but then ONE of them would wake up and turn it back on. ONE of them was scared of the dark. This ONE is now telling me he wants the TV out of his room. This is a very interesting turn of events. Could it be that he’s finally outgrown his fear? Could it be that my baby is growing up? Coudl it be that he’s maturing and no longer scared of silly things like the boogyman?

ME: “Why?”(insert a very interested-in-your-conversation look here)

Big Mickey: “Because Annequin always wants to put it on HIS shows. And I would rather just have it OFF than to watch his shows. So I’ve thought about it a lot and decided the best compromise is to take it out of the room.”

ME:* No longer impressed and now somewhat cynical. “Uh, so in other words. Take the TV out. You win?”

Big Mickey: “EXACTLY!”

I think further discussion needs to go into this decision

I think further discussion needs to go into this decision

Celebration Time: Come On!

There’s something to be said about goals. I don’t ever really make any and the ones I do make I more than likely am NOT gonna reach or follow up on. That’s just the way I am. In fact, I find that I end up sabotaging myself by making goals. For example when I set a goal of losing weight? I end up eating 20 pounds of Twinkies and Zingers instead. 

So it was no surprise when this year’s (insert the name of the small mountain town near where I live here) 5K Run came and I hadn’t prepared for it. See my friend Dee and Goocher and I usually run this 5K 

It’s about a four year tradition.

 OK hang on. 

I guess I should correct myself. 

It’s tradition to PLAN to run it every year. It’s tradition to PLAN on training for it every year. It’s tradition to SWEAR that nothing is gonna keep us from WINNING it next year. 

It’s a tradition to promise each other to run at least three times a week together alternating by me going to Dee’s town and running there, then going to Goocher’s town and running there, then they coming to MY town and running here. 

However.. sometimes I can’t make it because my boys have a morning football game. Or Goocher can’t make it because of whatever reason she has at the time. In fact, Dee usually is the one that’s pretty consistent about it. 

So anyways, come another year. The phone calls start. 

“Have you registered for the 5K yet?” 

“DAMN! Is it that time already? I haven’t really trained for it or exercised at all. I’m gonna DIE!” 

Well in the end Goocher couldn’t make it this year. But Dee and I registered. 


Dee and her hot bod! I guess I could have this body too if I ran 5 miles a day like her!

Dee and her hot bod! I guess I could have this body too if I ran 5 miles a day like her!

There's a hot body hiding underneath all that. I just KNOW IT!

There's a hot body hiding underneath all that. I just KNOW IT!

And I talked my Lil Sis into registering too. 

My lil sis holding up an energy drink that was in our goody bag. It was apple flavored and it was YUMMY

My lil sis holding up an energy drink that was in our goody bag. It was apple flavored and it was YUMMY

Then she also signed my little nephew up.


My nephew. I just wuvz him.

My nephew. I just wuvz him.

Lil SIS: “I’m bringing a bottle of Cuvee to celebrate afterwards if we both survive!” 

ME: “Hell yah! I’m up for the champagne cause! Bring it!” 

The race usually goes a little something like this for me: 

The organizer of the race says, “Alright everybody! Just a few warnings. You will be running on rough terrain so watch out for potholes, cow pies, rocks, and rattle snakes. OK? On your marks, get set… GO” 

And ummm yeah, he’s not kidding. 

Start off strong… feel good.. hey I think I can do this! I’m gonna be just fine! 

After the ¼ mile marker… oh shit.. is that a.. .a HILL? Is that a hill? Holy shit. YUP that’s a hill. I forgot about the hills. …. Oh gawd Lord help me.

*trip over a rock… but I don’t fall. Recover… keep running. 

A few more hills later .. dear gawd….. when is the mile marker coming up! I’m gonna DIE. Looks down (we’re on rough terrain, hills, over looking a creek) 


Holy shit.. I’m gonna pass out and roll down this damned hill. 

Will anybody see me? 

 Will anybody realize that I just DIED and didn’t finish the race? I can picture my body rolling and tumbling and hitting the rocks all the way down.

I attempt to take a deep breath to snap out of it.

OUCH. Bad idea.

Deep breaths hurt very badly at this point. 

I’m too busy concentrating on breathing and well… staying ALIVE that I hardly noticed the few cow pies I ran over. Thank goodness they are dry already so nothing gets stuck to my shoes. 

An older gentleman passes me up. I hate him. 

I speed up to catch up to him. Then I start walking. He walks too. 

Then he speeds up again. Show  off!  

I let him have his glory. Not because I am out of breath, cramping and about to pass out or anything. I just figure I’ll be nice and let him think he’s actually beating out a very healthy and fit 37 year old woman. It’s good for his ego. I can sense he needs an ego boost and I’m happy to oblige. 

Still jogging but at a very slow pace. Start admiring the scenery. Trees everywhere…I hear the water from the creek that runs right below the hill I’m running. 

Uh.. wait.. is that BEAR POOP? WTF??? 

Pick up my pace but still can’t catch up to the old man. Oh well. 

Finally get to the marker that says we’re halfway done. The rest of the course is downhill so it makes it easier because you don’t really put any effort towards running. You just move your legs and swing your arms and pray to God you don’t roll down the hill. 

I only stop to walk a few times. 

When I get to the ¼ mark I look and see the old man in front of me. A little girl is in front of him. 

Oh WHATTAAAA???  I’m not gonna get beat by an old man and a little girl. HELL-TO-THE-NO! 

I speed up and sprint as fast as I can. Panting… lungs a-blazing like a ten alarm fire, knees a-jiggling like jello, feet a-thumping like BOSE speakers on the pavement. 

I pass the old man. The little girl stops, looks back for gramma and granpa. I utter in between breaths, “Go girl, go! Don’t worry about them right now. They are just fine. You’re almost there! Sprint as fast as you can to the finish line and get your time in. You can do it!” 

She speeds up and BEATS me. Ungrateful back stabbing brat! 

I come in right after her and look out for my friends. We made it! We did it! We really did it! We ran and survived! 

Dee says, “You came in 9th in our age group.”

I laugh because I know there are only 10 racers in my category. I tell her in between breaths, “I’m gonna post that on Facebook. hahahahahaa. I just won’t tell them there were only ten people. hahah that’s funny shit!”

So as soon as I can breath without medical assistance I post:

“I got 9th place, bitches!”


D: Out of ten?

ME: (joking) Yes! I beat out the 80 yr old with emphysema.

Mrs. Ess:  
Norma, our whole family is here at soccer laughing at this post, too funny.
ME: Mrs. Ess I wasn’t kidding! It was my only goal this year! He beat me last year and I wanted to show him who was boss this time around!
G.I. Joe: Norma I heard the only reason the 80yr old lost was because his feet got tangled up in his oxygen tubing, and he took a nasty spill just shy of the finish line. But hey you’re right a win is a win.
ME: Don’t take my glory, Joe!! It takes talent to trip an old person, make it look like an accident and keep on running!
D: Was this the pogo stick division?
hahahahaah I LOVE my friends. They crack me up!
But back to me: I came in 32nd over all out of 39, I think?  9th place in my age group (out of 10) my time was 38:26:21

And while I realize that’s nothing to brag about? I am posting my results for two reasons.

1. This year my goal was just to survive this thing. But my goal for next year is to actually RUN the whole race therefore maybe even beating  my time.

 WHAT?? NO I’m serious. Don’t look at me like that! I really AM this year. I swear! *cough *cough*

2. but for now I’m just proud of myself that I didn’t chicken out and hide in the restroom like I seriously considered doing right before the race when I started hyperventilating and panicking that I would not be able to finish it and I’d have to be carried down by the fire department that is on stand by for morons like me that decide to run a race even though we haven’t done one ounce of exercise for over two years. 

Anyways, goals or no goals I can at least say I ran it this year. And maybe my sister and I have a new sisterly tradition. I should have invited her before! Because… I mean helloooo! The best part of this whole day? Celebrating with her over a few glasses… errr… ok ok bottles of champagne. (Why hadn’t I ever thought of that before?) 

Yummy Cuvee is my favorite but this bottle of Vueve Clicquot Brut was off the hizzy!

Yummy Cuvee is my favorite but this bottle of Vueve Clicquot Brut was off the hizzy!

OK ..so back to creating and achieving goals.

Start exercising. Stay fit. Operation Donut back into effect full force!

I want to be able to say that I beat my time from this year AND that I RAN THE WHOLE THING. And sure, I won’t get first place or anything but I will at least beat out my time! Also, hopefully I’ll lose a few more pounds.  

*Oh great… Goal setting is always a most definite way to sabotage myself. I can already feel it. 

Can somebody pass me a Twinkie please? Thanks!

click here to read my diet blogs:

Operation Donut Day One

Operation Donut Day Two

Operation Donut Day Three

Operation Donut Day Four

Baked Potato=OUT

Small Success

Childhood Memories

“Hey you should blog about the time we put on that show for the neighborhood kids, remember?” Dee said.

“OH I KNOW! That’d be a good one, hu?” I replied. “But do me a favor, email YOUR VERSION OF EVENTS so I can compare them to mine.”

So she did.

And she did such a great job that there is no way I could change it ONE LITTLE BIT. So here it is. The RED writing is my commentary. The rest is ALL DEE ——

Well, this is how I remember it. We were the bad asses on the block…and all of those little punks wanted to be just like us! No, really. I’m being serious. (CLEARLY SHE’S SERIOUSLY DELIRIOUS)

So…when we proposed we were going to present a play they came a running with money in hand. As I recall it, you did a dance scene with some goofy/retarded skirt. (WHAT??? I LOVED THAT SKIRT!!!! IN FACT IF I REMEMBER CORRECTLY IT LOOKED A LITTLE SOMETHING LIKE THIS. DON’T FORGET AT THIS POINT I’D JUST MOVED HERE FROM MEXICO.)


It was longer than you…so there you were…holding the bottom of both sides with your arms stretched out like you were about to take off flying or something. (DEAR GOD, MAKE ME A BIRD.. SO I CAN FLY FAR FAR AWAY)


 I’m cracking up right now…cuz I’m getting a visual. I think we TRIED to impress the HUGE crowd with some magic tricks. Clearly, there was no freakin’ magic. I think we started getting booed at this point. (THEY JUST DIDN’T RECOGNIZE REAL TALENT.. I TELL YAH!)


 If we had given them some tomatoes, I’m pretty sure they would have used them…or heck, they would have taken them home and at least have gotten something with the big money they spent to watch us! We tried to recover from it and told some jokes. Nobody laughed, but I’m heck a laughing right now! I’m rolling. We sucked bad! You tried to save it with singing. It was obvious you were winging it. Sorry Norms…that sucked too. (HA… DON’T HOLD BACK GIRL, TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL!)

THEN the worst thing imaginable happened. They asked for their pennies back! (IT WASN’T PENNIES IT WAS NICKLES)

We thought we were savvy entreprenuers headed to the big time…all the way to the top. We were gonna be rich, rich I say! But there we were…humiliated, handing our audience of five people their money back. We almost were 25 cents richer! Hey! Don’t knock that quarter, cuz that was a lot of darned money back then. We could have easily bought ourselves tons of gum and candy. (THIS IS WHERE I HAVE TO LAUGH BECAUSE THAT’S WHEN YOU KNOW YOU’RE OLD. WE USED TO RUN OUR ASSES TO THE STORE WITH ONE QUARTER TO SPLIT BETWEEN THE THREE OF US, ME, DORP AND GOOCHER..AND IT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH.)

 Those little bastards took their money back and then went to Eloy’s Market and spent it. THEN they came back and stood in the alley right outside your fence and licked on those freakin’ lolly pops. Jerks! (YES… BUT THEN WE RENTED OUT OUR BIKES AND CHARGED THEM A NICKLE TO TAKE IT FOR A RIDE DOWN THE ALLEY AND BACK SO WE RECOUPERATED SOME OF OUR MONEY BACK)

That’s when I decided I was not cut out to be a movie star. As a matter of fact, I think we’re infamous enough for E! to do a documentary about us. Hey, we’re MORE interesting than Paris Hilton or lame Nichole Richie. Heck, we done more outrageous and/or exciting things than they have…and we have brains!! (WE ACTUALLY DO .. OUTRAGEOUS/EXCITING THINGS ALL THE TIME.. NOT TOO SURE ABOUT HAVING THE BRAINS THING THOUGH!)

I think people would watch. They love to see failure when it’s not them. Oh…and I don’t want to forget to mention that one of those audience members was your longtime Crush… Remember! HA! Hilarious! (HMMM MAYBE THAT’S WHY THINGS DIDN’T WORK OUT BETWEEN US. NAH, ACTUALLY THE FACT THAT I DIDN’T GROW BOOBS TILL MY SECOND CHILD WAS BORN WAS PROBABLY THE REAL REASON. I REMEMBER IN THE THIRD GRADE CATCHING HIM BEHIND THE CLASSROOM WITH THE NEW GIRL WHO HAPPENED TO BE “SHOWING HIM” HER “NEW TRAINING BRA” … SLUT.)

Oh, my God…this is so funny…I can’t stop laughing…what the heck were we thinking…this is what happens when parents don’t have money to buy us Nintendo (the IT game back then)…kids end up using their own imagination. What a waste! D. (I WOULDN’T TRADE ANY OF IT FOR THE WORLD. GOOD TIMES!)


It’s Vegas, Baby!

The first night in Vegas was kind of weird. We got there kind of late, but decided, “What the hell? It’s VEGAS, baby! So let’s freshen up and go downstairs and find something to do.”

 We quickly remember that McFaddens at the Rio had all you can drink night for women, with a $13.00 cover charge on Thursdays.

Twinkie is ecstatic when she hears "ALL YOU CAN DRINK FOR $13.00"

Twinkie is ecstatic when she hears, “ALL YOU CAN DRINK FOR ONLY $13.00 IN VEGAS!”

They also have a beer pong tournament going on.

This gratuitous beer pong booty picture is for you male readers. You're welcome!

This gratuitous beer pong booty picture is for you male readers. You're welcome!

AND they have dancing! *Bar dancing is highly encouraged.

No Twinkies were involved in the making of this picture.

No Twinkies were involved in the making of this picture.

Anyways, I wanted to make sure I got my money’s worth. Soooooo……

I drank.





"Dink till you can't drink no more!" is Twinkie's Vegas motto.

"Dink till you can't drink no more!" is Twinkie's Vegas motto.

The next day we recovered by the pool. And by “recovered” of course I mean drank some more.
*Don’t judge me. It’s VEGAS, baby!
 After that, we went up to our room. Got dressed. And headed out to the ever-so-kick-ass Green Day concert at Mandalay Bay.
green day
Yes, I know…. all you hard core punk fans are throwing up right now because I mean, hello… it’s Green Day.. they are soooo “pop” punk and sooooo commercialized.
Yeah, well, you know what? SUCK IT. It’s MY Vegas trip not yours.
When YOU go to Vegas you can hit the underground clubs and catch some “real” punk if you want. As for me, Green Day made my very impromptu, very expensive trip worthwhile.
*Airline ticket prices are a bitch when you book last minute.

other Vegas posts: 



THE THING ABOUT VEGAS IS… (VIP at Club Rain… gratuitious booty shots)

VEGAS BABY (a vegaslicious recap)

  A TWINKILICIOUS RECAP (Circ de Solei, a pedicure, and a look at my new blog, Somebody Stole My Twinkie. this is also where Twinkie VIP’s at the VooDoo Lounge)

A Rabid Unicorn: Nightmare On Twinkie Street

Here’s another nightmare to add to my nightmare series. You can read the first of the Nightmare On Twinkie Street series here:

the demons: demons attack me but I know it’s a dream and try to wake myself up but I can’t.

and the second of Nightmare On Twinkie Street here:

Hail Mary Full of Grace: Mr. Twinkie is in a tsunami, I think he’s dead. Turns out he’s not but he wants a divorce, and the only way to prove my love is by endangering my life.

in this particular dream, I am attacked by a rabid dog.

I had a dream last night that Dee said she quit coaching. She said Goocher  was gonna be the new head coach for cross country and track and Dee was gonna stay on as a volunteer/helper.

Then she complained that Goocher was letting all the power get to her head though.

Then we got chased by a big rabid unicorn. I fell and asked Dee for help.



Ok ok… it actually wasn’t a rabid unicorn, it was a rabid dog. But all I found on the internet is this picture so bear with me, ok? 

Anyways… she just kept running saying, “sorry Normz.. but I’m scared of dogs. Besides, if I get hurt and can’t run with the kids Goocher will get mad at me.”

Now before you try to interpret what this means… when Dee and I were in high school she once talked me into walking from one town to another. We lived in McFarland and she wanted us to walk to Delano.

Which means we had to cross through grape vineyards and orange groves. About seven miles worth. Oh don’t worry, we had time. We were cutting SCHOOL, you see.

I told Dee I didn’t want to cuz I was scared of wild dogs and she said she’d protect me. I finally agreed and we both had sticks to “protect” ourselves from wild, rabbies infested, wild dogs or serial rapists.

Well, halfway through our trekk this dog comes at us growling merrily like we were it’s dinner. She screamed and ran. So much for protecting me! LOL 

I shook the stick at it until it was probably so embarrassed for me that it ran away.

OK so back to the dream.

Then I was carrying Goocher’s baby (not like… I was pregnant.. I mean I was literally carrying a baby that belonged to Goocher) and realized if I let that dog attack me, the baby would end up hurt and Goocher would beat my butt.

See… I was more scared of Goocher than I was of the dog. So then I ran like Forrest Gump.


The crazy part about it is that Goocher is actually the sweetest person you’ll meet. So my dream was actually an alternate universe type of thing.

There is no rhyme or reason or a subconcious thing. And it’s actually really funny now that I think about it. But at the time is was very stressful and scary and I was glad to finally wake up.

The Ya Ya’s

YES I know this ages me when I call what my friends and I have The YaYa Sisterhood. I don’t care. It’s really the only way to describe it. That movie describes our relationship so perfectly, including the madness and the “interventions.”


I mean, who else do you know that’s been best friends since the third grade? Who else has gone through every “first” together? Our kids have known each other since they were newborns.

Our girls are all grown up

Our girls are all grown up

YES! We’ve saw each other through labor but that’s not all. We’ve been there for each other’s first boyfriends, first kisses, first kids, first marriages, first divorce, first big fight, first realization that we have been friends for so long that now we’re bound to each other for life, because we all know WAY TOO MUCH about each to ever become enemies. hahaha.

The Three Amigas

The Three Amigas

I mean really biotch! You REALLY want all your deep dark secrets “out there?” Then you’re bound to me for life!

Well, at least that’s what Goocher keeps reminding us anyways. I don’t ever plan on finding out.

The weird part is? How different we are.

Dee is a workaholic. I love to work but don’t LIVE to work. Goocher? Does she even have a job??? *scratches her head and tries to remember

She’s a teacher. I’m not. Neither is Goocher.. actually I think Goocher teaches inmates how to survive once they get out jail. OK so yeah, Goocher DOES have a job. She counsels ex inmates. Me? Don’t get me near a felon.

I haven’t decided what I would do if I had to work around felons. But I think I’d cry! Or punch him in the nose. And RUN. Then cry.

 She’s a mom of three. I got her beat there! I have four children! Five if you count my husband! *wink*

Goocher is a mom of three also. Ok.. that one is a wash.

Dee is also a stepmom of two.

And here’s where it gets better! Dee’s an ASB Director. A Head Cross Country Coach. A Head Track Coach. She is driven and always on the go. She just finished her Masters of Education in Curriculum and Instruction. She is a work out queen. No really? Have you SEEN her body? Looks better than Demi Moore’s and she didn’t have to pay thousands of dollars for it.


You’ve seen MY body. Nowhere close to looking like that! LOL And Goocher? Well…. let’s just say she’s thick but “buffed.”

 I guess what I’m trying to say is, Dee is probably the more sophisticated? than the rest of us Ya Ya’s?

 I say sophisticated with a little apprehension because “on paper?” YES on paper… she is the epitomy of sophistication and education.

But in real life? Well… in real life she’s the girl that takes the CHILE out of her COACH PURSE to eat with her ITALIAN food at a girls night out.

don vinos2

Gawdddd I love my friends! You can take the girl out of the McFarland ghetto but you can’t take the McFarland ghetto out of the girl!

Don’t hate me Dee… you know I got nothin’ but love for my Ya Ya!