(This post will make no sense unless you read this post. Although, apparently that post also made no sense, so you might be alright.)
Oh, dear.
Have I mentioned I just turned 30? Well, apparently when one turns 30, they become all crazy and don’t make sense when they are blogging.
And, apparently they become borderline inappropriate. I am sorry for all the grown up talk lately. What is wrong with me?
I wrote a post yesterday when I really didn’t have the time to be writing any such posts. I was supposed to be getting ready to load the children up so we could go to that darn other house and clean it. And I decided not to tell you all about that because I didn’t want to sound like I was complaining. But here I am now, complaining. Darn house.
So, I wrote the post, I hit publish, and then I made my usual announcement to the children:
“We are leaving in 20 minutes!”
(I say this when I hope to leave in an hour)
And then we have to potty and cry and potty and forget our shoes and potty and fight over a truck and redo our hair and potty and blah blah blah blah blah.
So, I get about a MILE away and notice that Lucy, our darling pup, has chased the car and has caught up with me.
Darn dog.
So, then I have to load her up and bring her home and tell her to STAY.
And she does it again.
And then I take her home again.
And we played that lovely game thrice. And, yes, thrice is a clever word. And I am saying “and” too much.
So, I start to get the emails with your comments on my smart phone that I am too dumb to use, and I notice that no one knows what “Bail O’ Cotton” means. So, I decide I should try to edit my post.
But I cannot figure out how to do such things on my phone. Because I am 30 now and I have no brains. I tried and I tried. I even tried to download a WordPress app for my phone and still couldn’t figure it out.
I think it’s time they put me out to pasture.
(To Sister Meagan: Holla! To Everyone Else: Sister Meagan asked me to put the phrase “put out to pasture” in a blog post. Did it work? Did I use it right? What are your thoughts? I am 30 now, so remember I am not operating with a full deck of cards.)
And now we have come full circle. What does Bail O Cotton mean?
First of all, I think I used the wrong spelling of “bail.” It may have been “bale,” but honestly I have no idea. Nor do I have the time or the passion to google that right now.
Secondly, I don’t think I should speak of such things on my web log. I don’t know what has gotten into me! I am not sure I can bring myself to type out the word.
Therefore, I shall leave you with clues.
Clue 1- It’s a feminine hygiene product
Clue 2- Starts with the letter P
Clue 3- Sometimes has the word “maxi” in front of it.
Clue 4-Auntie was basically saying she needed to wear one because we were always making her laugh too hard. And she was having bladder control issues. She was probably 30.
I fear I’ve said too much.
Basically, I just shouldn’t have blogged yesterday. And I shouldn’t have blogged today because I need to go into town and go back to that darn house and clean the oven because the oven is a ghastly sight.
But I have news of great joy!
The kids are going to be at VBS tonight and David and I are going to our favorite Greek restaurant. Oh, yes, local people. We are going to THE GREEK RESTAURANT. You know. You KNOW. That yummy one.
Local people! It is like we have an inside joke that we are keeping from the cyber people! Although after all this senile blogging, I don’t know if anyone, local or cyber, is still reading this.
Alas. Tonight is belly dancer night at THE GREEK RESTAURANT. It’s sure to be awkward and jiggly. And sweaty, most likely.
Speaking of VBS, my mom is a teacher there. Now, you all know how gooberish my mom is when it comes to technology.
Mom: I am going to watch something on YouTube.
Me: Ok. www.youtube.com
Mom: Hmmm . . . I better Google it.
Me: Why? Just type in the address.
Mom: That doesn’t work out for me.
Me: Whatever you wish.
Mom: Oh, shoot. I don’t remember how to get to Google. I will use Bing to find Google and then I will go to YouTube.
No, readers. I did not make that up.
I pinky swear.
Apparently, she was the only one who could figure out how to set up the DVD player at VBS and she wanted me to praise her on the Internets because I am always making fun of her on the Internets.
So, there you go.
Are you all impressed with her?
Alright. I’m leaving now. I am going to be late. Again. I hope I wasn’t too confusing. I am 30 now, you know.
How many times can I talk about being 30 in one post?
Oh. It just makes me feel so forlorn when I even say it.
30.
I shall speak of it no more.
I’m beginning to be a little scared of 30! At least I still have three good months before my brain explodes!
Wait until you are nearing the door of the BIG 40 :/ I fear my brain cells are dying by the second. I didn’t know what the “bale of cotton” things was either. Although, I was thinking of the “other” product. The one that starts with a “T”. Funny stuff 🙂
Good luck with the oven, Taylor! And thirty isn’t so bad. 🙂
I’m still reading! I’m loyal like that. I like your 30 year old brain. It makes me laugh.
Be encouraged Taylor! I’m way more inappropriate on my blog than you are on your wholesome blog.
This might be true, but it’s what I love…about both of you. For real.
You shall be playing with a full deck at 52.
Until you turn 53 and the joker shows up and throws the deck all over the place. 🙂
OH, so THAT’S what happened to me when I hit 54 – no more cards! And here I was…blaming everything on menopause!
i heard on the radio that women who are 31 feel the best about their body image than at any other time in their life.
LOOK! I made no sense. “Feel the best” was poor grammar, I am pretty for shizzle.
I don’t think I should be blogging on any day and I’m still 29. For a few more months. WHooHOO! (unless 31 makes me feel sexy, in which case I can’t wait. Perhaps I can speed up the process by showering regularly whilst still in my 20’s.)
If my dog chased the car for a mile, I would just drive faster. We don’t love each other.
Are you sure your mother wasn’t the only one who knew how to operate the VHS? because that would make more sense to me.
I kid. I kid. My mother doesn’t even know what Bing is. She thinks Bing’s last name is Crosby. Bada CHING!
I’m going now.
I love your blog, I really do, but please, PLEASE stop thinking that 30 is old. I am almost 40. Imagine how it makes me feel when you are sad about being 30??!!?? So buck up, buttercup! You aren’t at all old! 🙂
Enjoy your Greek food and hey, get all wild and crazy and treat yourself to Starbucks, too. I mean, really…how often are you childless at night?
🙂
I think what you need is a weekend in Las Vegas : )
Darn it Taylor, now I want Greek food but the Greek restaurant is clear across town and it’s literally 100 degrees out and so I shall have none.
Hooray for Belly Dancer Thursdays!! Enjoy some Turkish Cigars for me!
that’s what bale o cotton is?? omg…i did not know that….learn somethin’ new everyday…you rock, you deserve a weekend in vegas, enjoy!!!! see ya soon!! 😉
Yay for Greek place, yum! Boo for belly dancers 🙂 I can just see your mom asking you to give her props lol too funny 🙂
O! and btw I never knew what bail o cotton was, but I do now! hahahah
I have to say – I normally love your posts, but I think I’m loving these over 30 posts even more. You’re clearly improving with age.
Well, I can’t decide what being 30 is. Although I became a great-aunt at 30. And yet I don’t feel old. But not young and coltish either. To each their own 🙂
Are our mothers related? My mom does the same thing on the internet and then calls me… and argues that I am incorrect. Enjoy Vegas… it will be quite interesting, to say the least.
Thanks for clearing that up for us….. I’m sure your Aunty is very happy about that:)