It was Miss Scarlett in the conservatory with the knife!

Well. What an interesting night I had. Remember the feather post? Yeah. Got those in the mail. I was way excited about them so asked Anne if she would help me put them in. I thought, she's crafty, I trust her, etc. Uhm. Yeah.

Lets set up these scene. First off, you need to know how you actually put these suckers in. Basically you have this little bead (think Indian bead but bigger) made out of metal. You have to put a chunk of hair through that, then stick the tips of the feathers underneath that, then clamp the bead with pliers so its holding the feathers and your hair together. Make sense? Great.

Anne and I march in to her bathroom to leave Mark and the basketball game in peace. We talk for a few minutes about where I want the feathers to be and I sit down. Anne tries to figure out how to thread the hair through the bead for a couple of minutes...and pretty soon we're ready to go. I hand her the feathers and she sticks them in the bead. It should be noted that at some point during this process Anne said atleast once, "okay...I'm not a moron." I. BEG. TO. DIFFER.

The picks up the "pliers". Oh. Why is that in quotations you ask? Hmm. Well. Because Anne didn't pick up pliers. Anne picked up wire cutters.

Pause for dramatic effect.

I hear a very loud SNAP next to my ear, Anne shoots across the room laughing so hard she can't even tell me what happened, and I look in the mirror to see stubble. STUBBLE. ON. MY. SCALP. I look at Anne's hands and sure enough -- she's holding all five feathers and a chunk of my hair. Whoopsies. No big deal. I mean...I don't have fine hair or anything. I didn't need those. Right? Wrong. It took about 20 minutes, but she eventually admitted, "I know see the error in my ways". Uh huh. I bet you do.

Why in the world would you think that wire cutters would clamp a bead shut. Take that one step further. Why in the world would you think that wire cutters wouldn't cut the chunk of hair you're holding in your hand? Shockingly, my hair is not stronger than wire. I am not Chuck Norris.

The Weapon:

So Anne. Thank you. You are officially off my "crafty helper person" list and officially on the "mothers who should go no where near people's heads with sharp objects" list. You and Mom are the only people on that list, by the way. Amy, I now understand the humiliation you must have felt when mom cut your hair when you were little and things went terribly awry.

Why I will never be a size 0.

My childhood was legit. Some of my best and worst memories involved food (SHOCKING, I know). There were so many of us and my badass mom used to make dinner every night. Probably because she wanted to make sure we were eating healthy, thought it was her job, but also I'm pretty sure a meal out for 7 people would have been like, $200 at McD's. Good memories though. Seven people all together at the dinner table every night. Usually Michael's legs were stretching under the table and kicking us (grrrrr) and we were constantly fighting about it. The boys in their two chairs on one side of the table and the three girls on a black bench that we had for the longest time. Sam's was a weekly stop. It's probably a sign you need to stop procreating when both the mom AND the dad have their own massive shopping cart at Sam's and they are both totally cram packed full. They used to buy these massive cans of vegetables and apple sauce from Sams -- you know? the cans that are LITERALLY 100 ounces? Sick. It's restaurant style. So many kids. For some reason, I always wanted to carry them in from the car and I ALWAYS dropped them on my foot. I'm pretty sure I had a black and blue big toe for atleast 3 years of my life. My mom used to make mac and cheese that was probably actually pretty good, but she insisted on cutting up these cubes (yes, cubes) of ham and throwin' them in there to give us "protein". Wah wah. It was sick. Meatloaf was often a staple which I still think is all kinds of disgusting and I'm not even going to discuss the meat grinder that was a staple on our countertop. *Shudder*

Not all meals were weird/gross though. My dad used to make these sick hamburgers and my mom would make chocolate shakes from none other than Blue Bell Vanilla Ice Cream (TEXAS, WHAT WHAT!!). She also makes the most insane potato salad ever and her mashed potatoes are still to this day my favorite food. Randomly, one of the best foods was Mama's Pizza. Best. Pizza. Ever. I always used to want to go with my parents to pick it up, but driving home smelling that pizza (even if it was in the truck) was the worst torture I have known to this day. We'd go home and dig the hell in. Mom and Dad would crack open their Coors Original (.....who drinks that?) and we'd call it a night.

Long story short, I drove from Uptown to Parker and Custer today to get myself a Mama's Pizza. I had completely forgotten about it, haven't thought of it in atleast 10 years and it was probably the most satisfying meal I have had in a month (except for the chicken tetrazzini my momma made

recently that was also a classic staple). If you haven't had this pizza -- go get it. The restaurant itself is slightly questionable from the outside but I promise you wont be disappointed. Go. Now. It's amazing.

**After my mom's comment I feel as though I need to add a little addition here. My mom is the shit. Most everyone reading this is one of her children so you know as well as I do -- but in case you aren't -- read carefully. My. Mom. Is. The. Shit. She really is a good cook when she doesn't try to make orange glazed ham balls (another memory I try every day to forgot). As you can see by her comments -- she as an awesome cook. Lots of good memories.

Mini MJ

Oh holy hell. So. The story begins with Anne and I at Neimans a few weeks ago. We had both gotten $50 "perk cards" (FREE MONEY) and decided to go see what we could get. We end up in the kids section (duh!). We both buy little Graham a little sumtin' sumtin' and are happy campers. UNTIL I SEE MINI MARC JACOBS. I'm frantically looking for the boys section only to find out they don't have any. Are you kiddin' me? What do I do? I have to have it. I crossed my fingers and thought, "Dear Baby Jesus, please let Mike and Laura's bambino be a girl. Thanks."

Guess what? Good things come to those who wait. This week we got an email from Mike and Laura telling us that they are going to have a little girl (by the way...can we talk about how beautiful she is going to be? Jeez Louise). So what do I do? Marc (get it? wink wink) my calendar to go back and stock up on some Mini Marc Jacobs for the newest member of the Doak family. And oh my gosh, they still had the two things I thought were so way cute. This outfit is so legit I almost want to keep it for my future child (totally ridiculous thought) but hopefully Laura and Mike will think it's cute too. :) Because I haven't given it to them yet, I can't put a picture of it on here -- so I decided to find some of Marc's cutest "mini" items. Seriously. Can you argue? Cutest things ever. Check out the sweater (bottom left). Pretty sure I need to hunt that down for Graham.

Gettin' my hair did

This whole idea started a few months ago when a girl I know posted a comment on Facebook. She has a daughter (maybe 4 or 5?) that is always WAY done up. Tutus, HUGE flower headbands, cowboy boots, etc. So she said something about how she wanted to put feathers in her hair and I thought, "huh?" so I did a little Google research (my addiction to Googling random stuff could be a blog post of its own...but that will be for another time). Apparently this is a legit new "trend" which actually makes me semi not like it...but whatever. Some look WAY ghetto and some look super cute. I think if you tuck them in under your hair (so you can try and hide them if you need to) and keep them small they could be pretty darn cute. So.........I ordered some. :) I have a feeling this might be a similar situation to the "extension fiasco", but I figure it's way less dramatic. I don't know. Am I crazy? What are people's thoughts? I haven't even gotten them, let alone put them in...so I could still be persuaded to resist. I think it could be fun for the summer though. Who knows. I guess time will tell.

** Disclaimer: I reserve the right to never admit to liking this, doing this, or even considering this if I so choose.

Amy gets the horns

There are no words.

'Ain't no Shake and Bake

I'm such a lucky little girl. My BFFFFFFFFFFFF Blake, also known as Poodle, made me dinner tonight. In the 10+ years that we have been friends, I'm pretty sure this is the first time we have ever eaten something at one of our places that isn't take out. Amazing. And who would have thunk it -- the boy can COOK! Full, fat and happy.

The Jumper from our Past

This deserves it's very own little post. My mother, god love her, still owns clothes from the 80's. Duh. I give my mom credit for actually caring what she looks like most of the time. If she goes out, she pulls herself together, very unlike most women past the age of 45 who have decided to give up. This is not a post to celebrate my moms efforts. This is...incredible. My mother has a jumpsuit from 1982 that has managed to stay in her wardrobe of "must-saves". I didn't realize this little gem had made it through all of these years until I show up at her new house for a painting party. Oh. My. Gosh. People are going to see you in that, Mom. You know people are coming over, right? Yeah. She knew. And I will say...after comments from me, my brother, AND my sister...she still rocked this ridiculous look with her head held high. Props mom. Props.

Shotty Times

When I worked at Cowboys Golf, I got two tickets to Medieval Times from a Christmas party. Worst gift ever, right? No. The On the Border breakfast coupons were worse.

I regifted them to Amy for Christmas that year because duh, if anyone I knew would go to Medieval Times, it would be Amy. She was actually pretty pumped about them. Shocking. I know. So about a year later when they are getting ready to expire, she somehow convinces me to go with her ensuring an amazing time. We initially had tried to get Anne and Mark to actually PAY for tickets and make a "thing" of it...but they declined because they have half of a brain.

That night was quite possibly one of my top 5 grossest experiences of my life. I knew it had something to do with

horses...but oh my god. I had no idea. We walked in, were handed our cardboard crowns (wait, what?), and immediately found the bar. This is the only logical decision we made all night. We bought a bottle of wine and asked for two glasses. Oh wait. Can we have two PLASTIC glasses because the glasses you just gave us have someones lipstick on them. Gag. We sit down in our seats probably sidestepping manure on the way next to a family of 5 that had very clearly paid for their tickets and were all kinds of excited to be there.

So I'm drinking the wenches brew from my goblet and here comes our own little wench-waitress pouring what I believe was old Cambell's Tomato soup out of a black caldren into our pewter bowl. Um, Amy? Where is the spoon? OH WAIT, we are in Medieval Times and they were too primitive to use silverware. Do we stick out like sore thumbs in our Marc Jacobs and Forever 21? Most likely, yes.

Now the show starts. This is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. I'm so embarrassed for the men with their long nappy hair who come bounding into the arena on their white horses so proud that they have just been promoted to head knight at Medieval Times. I wonder if any of them are available....

About 4 minutes later, we look at each other and decide it's probably a good idea to peace out before the turkey legs get passed around. Here is a little snack for your viewing pleasure: