So here you go-

1. I went on the Concorde to Europe.

False.

But not because I didn’t want to.

And not because I didn’t have the chance.

It was 1982 and I’d been married about three months when an old BF called and invited me to take the Concorde to Europe and return with him on the QEII. Mark had a ton o’ money and was legally blind without his glasses. On the upside he was really cute. Still at the time he called I was newly pregnant with Brett and guesstimated that Doug would’ve been none too pleased if I took Mark up on his offer. So I declined.

So I never got to ride on the fastest plane in the world. I was bummed.

2. I was an avid roller skater.

True- but this isn’t the big true.

Way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and kids actually went outside to play after school, I skated every day. In fact for my 10th BD I had a party at the roller rink. My mom gave me a black velvet skating skirt lined with red satin. It had 2 holly leaves on it. (My BD is in December.)

I thought I was all that and then some.

And in actuality I was a good skater and skated all the time. But as I got older, skating wasn’t cool so I stopped. I didn’t skate much again til my late 20′s; and it was then that I met Mark- of the Concorde invitation. The last time I skated at a rink a kid on rollerblades cut in front of me and I went down like the Hindenberg and broke my tailbone.

People laugh at that but that is a really painful injury and takes forever it seems to heal. Over the years I’ve wanted to get some skates and go again, but Mr. No Fun won’t even entertain the idea (He never skated as a kid.) and I won’t go alone.

3. I lost my virginity in my all girls dorm.

True. This is the big true.

Give Miss Janet the blue ribbon.

I wrote about this a long time ago. It’s all true; but feel free not to go there and read all about it if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended.

After I wrote this post I’d forgotten that I written about this before so some of you who’ve been visiting for awhile may have remembered this.

4. I know how to ski moguls.

False.

I do know how to ski moguls, but I do it very, very badly.

Once upon a time when I was young and so were my knees I used to ski. And for someone from SE Texas who didn’t go very often I wasn’t truly awful. So one day after a lesson from a drop dead gorgeous instructor in Steamboat Springs I decided that I was ready to handle the moguls.

Was I?

Not so much.

And as luck would have it just in the midst of the most spectacular fall of the entire trip my drop dead gorgeous instructor was passing over my head on the lift.

“Nice fall Michele.”

I wanted to  crawl down to the bottom of the mogul and keep on going to China.

FYI: It’s a lot harder than it looks.

5. I dyed my hair purple.

True, but not by choice.

Like most women I’ve had my share of unfortunate experiences over the years when it comes to my hair. This was years ago, when they had a shade that was dark, red-purpleish. I can’t even remember the shade. You really had to look hard to even notice the purple in the hair of the model on the box.

I thought it was a good idea.

Was it?

Not so much.

Let’s just leave it at that. On the other hand, I’ve decided that when my hair is totally white, which it’s nowhere close to quite yet, I’m going to go ahead and dye it all different colors- pink, blue, purple.

Why not? I mean it’s not like a woman with an  80 year old face and dark hair is going to fool anyone into thinking she’s 35 anymore so why not be outrageous? Besides, if your hair looks crazy, then people will expect you to be eccentric. I figure it’s like a free pass to be bizarre.

When I do crazy things now I still get the hairy eyeball. So in some ways, I’m kinda looking forward to it.

So I guess that’s it for now. I’m off to work what is supposed to be the first BIG day of the rodeo. To hear everyone talk I’ll need a Brinks truck to carry all the $$ tonight.

I have my doubts but am still optimistic at this point.

See you later.

Me in 1974

I’ve been going through old family photos the last few days.  I found a photo of me that’s 36 years old. The photo looked like I did everyday except that I had straight hair. To get the straight hair in the photo that I wanted, longed for, prayed for, a fierce ritual had to be maintained.

Every Sat. morning. I’d wash my hair, then roll the top on orange cans (the big ones) then take the rest of my hair, coat it in Dep (a styling gel) and wrap it around and around my head holding it in place with big clips. Then I  got to sit for over 3 hours under a hair dryer. And if I was super lucky, when all was said and done, I had straight-ish hair for a couple of days if it was an unusually dry spell. Of course if it was rainy outside or just normal Houston humidity, which I think exceeds that of the rain forest in Brazil, then I was screwed. I wrote about this very subject a year ago.

I had it straightened at salons, but it never held for long. My curls would not be defied. I finally got so frustrated and pissed off dealing with it that I cut it off short- really short, my senior year. Instantly regretting my decision, and  before leaving for UT in the fall of 1969, I bought a “fall”, a hairpiece of human hair that I could wear while my hair was growing out. (For you young ones, this is what was done in the days before hair extensions.) Thank God headbands and scarves were popular then. Most people that just saw me occasionally never knew it wasn’t my real hair. Besides, it was my natural hair, in front anyway.

Unfortunately one night when I was out on a date that first semester, my “fall” came off in my date’s hand one night. I was still a sweet young thing at that point, but things had gotten pretty heated (as much as they can be while still keeping your virtue) and as he lifted up my hair the fall came loose. My date was to say the least, nonplussed. I was mortified. Laughing never occurred to me. It was a quiet trip back to my dorm. The “fall” went into the trash when I got back.

Looking back now, I’m sure glad Twitter and camera phones weren’t around at the time.

Over years my hair grew long again and one day the fates smiled down on me. My hair actually cooperated on the very day I was having a photo taken for my folks. Of course when I gave the photo to my mom she said ” It’s a nice photo Michele, but it really doesn’t look a lot like you now, does it?” She liked my curls. She had curly hair.

Mom really shoulda worked for Hallmark.

Looking at that photo from 1974 right now I think subconsciously I was trying to turn myself into Mary Tyler Moore.

Why did most of us never appreciate what we had when we had it? I know I didn’t.

(Back then I only had 1 chin, no wrinkles. no wattle and certainly no unsightly hairs the size of telephone poles that magically appear on your chin when you least expect them, which is of course, always, always, when you’re out and about, never at home.)

For some reason I was never really happy with my appearance when I was young. Looking back now I wonder why?

You wouldn’t want to know what I’d give to look now like I did then. Of course Doug would look like a dirty old man, but that would be his problem.

I know, I know. I should be more secure and less concerned with things that don’t really matter at this point in my life. Our daughter Amanda says I’m the most vain woman on the face of the earth. I disagree. I rarely wear makeup unless it’s a special occasion. And I no longer try to fight my genes. My hair is curly now, just as God intended. It’s wash and wear hair.

In fact those who’ve been with me for a bit might remember what my wonderful MIL, Betty, said to me a couple of months ago about my hair.

I’ve always thought naps were wasted on toddlers who never really want to take them anyway.  Now I’ll add beauty to that list. If I’m ever given what I consider real beauty is again, I’ll appreciate it this time. I promise.

Over time though I paid attention to the unique array of penises that I saw in those 13 years between the start of college and when I married.

Some were big and some were small, and some were so tiny you could barely see them at all. (That kinda sounds like a Dr. Seuss book for grownups.)

I read this medical explanation of just how they work; and seeing what the medical terminology actually is, it’s a good thing that over time some slang words were developed for that “very special part of a man’s body“.

If there wasn’t slang, you’d have to say- “Oh baby, what a big corpora cavernosa you have! Give it to me!” or “Your tunica albuginea feels great.” Well I don’t know about you, but I’d just feel weird saying all that.

Anyway, no matter what you call it, it always works the same, or is supposed to anyway. But for those of you that still might be a little confused about the mechanics of tallywhackers and are too embarrassed to ask, I remembered a scene from a movie that you will find both humorous and educational.

This is what they should’ve shown us in 8th grade health class. (I would’ve known more than I did when I went to college.)

Watch it all and take notes; there will be a quiz later.

(Just ignore the Japanese subtitles, unless of course you’re Japanese.)

After watching all that,  it’s a miracle it ever works at all! Men can be so complicated.

I remember my dad took me to the Oilers AFC championship game in December 1960. (I think 1960.)  Mom didn’t want to go because rain was predicted. A drunk guy sitting behind us spilled his bourbon all over my back. Then it started to rain. I sat reeking of bourbon, next to my dad while hunkering under an umbrella. My dad sat there in his raincoat and rain hat. He wouldn’t have been caught dead carrying, or God forbid, using an umbrella. (Back in the early 60′s my dad wasn’t the most evolved person when it came to what was manly and what was not.) I begged to go home as the rain pelted us. Usually I could always get my way with my dad; but not that day. He was resolute. We sat and it rained and rained then it rained some more. That afternoon sucked- a lot. A Houston team has never won, or even played in the Superbowl.

I went to the football games in high school because I was part of the drill team. I played a bugle in the Imperial Guard. Our uniforms were heinous- gray jackets with a gray pleated skirt. We wore gray Roman type helmets that had red brooms on the top. What was I thinking?

The year I was a freshman at UT we won the national championship. The city went wild! I remember being carried on stranger’s shoulders down “The Drag” AKA Guadalupe street after the game. (I was smaller then). Anyway, UT football is almost a religion in Texas and when they win the top of the tower on campus is lit up orange. When they win the national championship the whole tower is lit up orange. You can see the tower from 10 miles away. I still watch Longhorn football.

What I don’t understand though is why someone who has absolutely no attachment to either of the cities in the Superbowl would get so wound up about it. It’s beyond me unless it’s just an excuse to get together with friends, eat a lot of junk food and perhaps drink too much. I know the commercials are cute, but I caught those online this morning. Is there something else going on there that I’m just not seeing?

According to Dr.Helen Fisher, we make the decision about whether a guy could be an appropriate match for us within the first three minutes. Instantly, actually in less than 1 second, you’ve already made the decision on whether or not he’s your cup of tea, physically. If he passes that hurdle, you’re checking out his voice next. Does he sound more like Tiny Tim, Tom Selleck or James Earl Jones? Do you like his voice? Once again, your decision is made within seconds.

If you’re lucky, you’re in a place where you can actually have a conversation, not a crowded club or concert. Now you can get down to the nitty gritty and have a discussion to base your decision on. How smart is he? I usually tried to date guys who had about the same intelligence as I do. I dated down once. Big mistake. He was just eye candy, a mimbo. What kind of background does he come from? He is interesting? Is he truly interested in you?

When Doug and I finally had our dance the night we met, something definitely clicked. I went back to his house for a drink and we stayed up talking all night- literally. Both our dads were engineers. We were both raised Methodist; both went to UT, and even worked at the same restaurant at the same time in Austin. I knew by dawn he was the one for me. He told me soon after we met that he had a date scheduled for the next night. (I’m guessing that was an easy out if it didn’t click with me). The next day I told him that I’d go on home so he could go on his date, no problem. He canceled his date. We’ve been together ever since and married three weeks later in a simple civil ceremony, just the two of us.

I guess it was love at first sight for us. I mean it wasn’t within the first three minutes, but it was within 12 hours. Apparently we’re in the minority though. Ayala Malach-Pines, PhD, of Ben-Gurion University in Israel, said only 11 percent of the 493 respondents in her survey said their long-term relationships started that way. Do you believe in love at first sight?

* Excluding your newborn.

After arriving home after the event he announced that his ankle was hurting- a lot. I took a look-see. It was already swelling and turning colors. (It was obvious to me that by mistake Madame Zelda had used a $10 curse). I searched and finally found an Ace bandage, no small task here in Clutterville. So I wrapped his ankle, elevated it and gave him 4 Alleve. (I’d been told that in an acute situation that you could occasionally give someone 4 Alleve at once). After that I gave him dinner and covered him up. He was asleep before 8pm.

I awoke at 4:30am from a nightmare. I had dreamt that I had somehow been exposed to a gigantic dose of radiation. The only way that I would live is if all my blood was removed then replaced. As my blood was being drained, my skin was falling off. (I told it you it was a nightmare). All the while I had one of those huge bipap masks on. I fought like Hell to live and did live through all the treatments in my dream. The only downside when it was over was that I could no longer drive a car or have sex as much. (On the plus side, my new skin that grew had no wrinkles so I looked fabulous). In the last part of the dream, Doug left me and went off with some bimbo who could have sex all the time. I was PO’d- seriously PO’d. That’s when I woke up. I looked over at Doug and was still PO’d. Logically I knew it was a dream, but it had seemed so real. When Doug woke up later I told him about it. He said “So now I’m in trouble for something I did in a dream?”

When I was at UT, back in the dark ages, I took a course on the psychology of dreams. I wish I’d paid more attention. Maybe I did, but that was 40 years ago and the disc in my brain only holds so much. That info from that course probably got bumped by something more pressing like what time Seinfeld was going to be on for the 4th time today. Other than the bipap mask, which they had on my mom her last day, none of the dream from last night made any sense to me at all. Does everyone have such bizarre dreams? I once had a dream I was in a blimp with Nazis and we were going over the North Pole. Where does this stuff come from? Nazis? Blimps? I can’t even begin to speculate.

I just hope I don’t go back to Bizarroworld tonight. Once is enough. Today’s trivia answer- September 10, 1977.

My friend Dianne Ledet has been the driving force behind this. I just Facebooked her and she said there were 568 people in our graduating class. (I’d really forgotten that our class was that big). You’d think I would’ve remembered because I was on the school newspaper, The Tribune. Dianne, Laurie, Bonnie and I were all on the Tribune staff. Our journalism teacher/sponsor was Mrs. Early. As I recall she was nice, if a bit scatterbrained. Back then she was probably the age I am now. (That poor woman. Now I understand). After graduation, Laurie and I both went to UT and were in fact roommates for a year and a half.  (We had a falling out the spring of our sophomore year at UT and we’ve not spoken since). I think I heard she’s in Colorado. I hope she’s doing OK. I believe Bonnie went to UT also and in fact pledged Laurie’s sorority. Wanting to me as different as possible, I never went through rush. I stayed a rampant GDI.

These days it’s so much easier for the kids to keep in touch with their high school friends with the advent of Facebook and other social utilities. Brett has 921 Facebook friends. (Of course, he’s much more the social butterfly, so to speak, than I ever was). I had friends in high school, not hundreds of course, but quite a few. I think some of my apprehension about tonight is that no one will recognize me. Last night, I was watching a Time-Life infomercial: Flower Power, the 10 CD set.  Peter Fonda was the host. There were a few people who must’ve been my age sitting on the couch discussing how they remembered the music. They looked so OLD. Do I look that old? I don’t know. I joke about it all the time, but I really can’t tell.

Do we always see ourselves through rose colored glasses? I found a cute B&W polka dot skirt to wear tonight. The reunion is at a popular Tex-Mex place in town. I could wear jeans. However, then I may have to break my commandment about no Spanx for me, so a skirt with a casual shirt it will be. Overall, I’m pretty happy about my appearance when I’m clothed, except for my neck. It really bothers me. Every fall, just to be safe,  I go into hiding, not to reappear until at least after Thanksgiving. My friend Camille (Chin Hairs & other Nasty Surprises) would tell me “Are you crazy? Forget about it and go have fun”. I ‘ve really tried to embrace that philosophy wholeheartedly and I’m doing better. However, I’m not quite there yet. That being said,  I’m eagerly awaiting a FedEx package today. My set of  African neck rings should be here this afternoon. I know they were a splurge. However, it’s almost a BOGO. One, they will make me look taller, counteracting my wizened appearance and two, my turkey neck will magically disappear. Two problems solved for the price of one. I’m hoping they’ll catch on here. They might… I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Wish me luck. Today’s trivia answer- 550 tons.