scraps & lagniappe

Cracker Barrel of fun (or not)

Today was our trip home, big fun on the Interstates for our family of 5, plus Lucy the basset hound.  Right before we hit Alexandria (or as northern LA people say "Alec") Scott asked if we should stop to eat and I said we could wait until Lafayette.  He stopped, pulled in to a Cracker Barrel. 

I have a history with the Cracker Barrel.  It was a fun place to go in college because our friend Bryan would ask the server for a "40 minus 8 root beer" and we'd have a grand old time.  For those in the know, Cracker Barrel serves a 32 ounce root beer in a bottle.  I always got tea, sweet tea, as God intended iced tea to be.  We'd all eat too much and make fun of the place, as I tend to do anywhere I go, generally.  So, I continued to enjoy the Cracker Barrel until Scott and I had children. 

For some reason, the Barrel of Crack is a mecca for bad behavior and has tons of crap for sale that no one needs.  I'm thinking you've never been sitting at the kitchen table and said to your spouse, "you know what we need?  Some candles that look like small logs, people will get the irony -- that it's a log on fire."  No, really.  No one needs these. 

The best of the worst at Crack le Barrel (my fave of my nicknames for the place) are the knock-offs of actual decent stuff you'd find at real stores.  This is where the retail part of the joint goes beyond average and kicks it into high gear.  I'm thinking it's to tick me off.  I'm pretty sure the big -wigs are thinking of stuff I have that they can replicate and sell for cheap, knowing I'll come in and get all pissed off at it.  I can spot a knock-off of most anything at (and I'm bad a measurement, cause I missed that day in school) 50 yards.  The place  loves to copy Vera Bradley bags.  I love a VB bag, especially my new one, a cargo-satchel wool plaid limited edition I carried all weekend.  Guess what I saw today.  Go ahead, guess.  I'll wait.  If you guessed a cargo-satchel wool VB knock-off you win one of those wooden triangle golf tee games that's missing a few tees.  Just for fun, I held up my bag (which is way mo better 'cause it's mine) and took a pic.  Want to play spot the fake?  Hint, it's the one with the price tag.  My VB is the pretty one on the bottom, looks like something I'd carry my gun in I were hunting, if I carried a gun or hunted.  Not that there is anything wrong with either of those.  Still, the knock-off is pretty damn close.  I'm sure lots of gun toting Crackle Barrel customers will be buying those for loved ones this Christmas, 'cause it would fit a pistol, cell phone, keys, and a lipstick.  And a silencer, duct tape, and maybe a body bag if folded properly. 

The absolute worst part of the retail side of the Crackhead Barrel is the toy section.  There are many new versions of old toys, like Raggedy Ann, Slinky and the like.  Now they also carry Webkinz, which are crack for kids.  There are stupid games and those weasel ball things.  I detest the toy section, because I know my girls love that crap.  My kids have expensive American Girl dolls, but show them a weasel ball and they're mesmorized.  Almost instantly, Molly starts asking for a stuffed parrot that copies what you say.  I told her we have 3 small people in our house that copy what I say, so, no, I don't think we need anything like that.  Then I saw this.  Yes, that would be a stuffed possum on the right.  I can think of no good reason for a human being to own a stuffed possum.  I can think of no good reason for a child to have one of these or for an adult to purchase one for a child.  Well, maybe if it's to complete your stuffed roadkill collection, but that's it.  People, I'm sure I don't need to point out that the stuffed possum is being sold in the Crackle Barrel, where there may very well be possum on the menu.  I'm sure I don't need to point out that there were dead possums on the side of road before turning into Crackle Barrel.  I'm really sure I don't have to point out THAT IT'S A DAMN POSSUM.  This is the very reason I should be an Ambassador of Good Taste for the Obama administration so it would be my duty to remove items such as this from stores.  I have a feeling I would have had to clear out half the Cracker Barrel.  Seriously, does anyone reading my blog have connections?  I'd really love that job.  I'm the perfect candidate.

Finally, I have not mentioned that I am allergic to the place.  They sell virtually every smelly odor-producing thing known to man.  I'm shocked the possum's tag didn't advertise "now with authentic possum scent!"  When I walked into the store my nose started twitching and my eyes were itchy.  During our 30 minute wait, while taking pics of ridiculous products, I was on the Kleenex hunt and heard more "bless yous" than in Sunday service.  I was out of Zyrtec, no Benadryll, I was a sneezy, eye-watery mess.  Now, I'm a mess occasionally, but I hate being an allergy mess.  We had a chaotic lunch and left without any weasel balls, talking parrots, or possums.  And my lunch was possum-free, or at least that's what I'm led to believe. 

and now the top ghetto sno-kone flavas

If you missed my post "short and not so sweet" go read it so you'll get the reference, or if you are familiar with the Ghetto Sno-Kone mobile from the metropolis of Shreveport, LA, read on. 

I would like to thank all who participated in offering up names for flavas on the blog and on FaceBook, everyone gets an hon'rble mention, but there can only be one winner of the Ghetto Sno-Kone Flavas Awardz.  So, let's throw a gang sign up and holla for Melissa. 

Melissa's suggestion of I-like-big-butts-and-i-cannot-lime wins hands down.  I couldn't have come up with a better one if I spent years on this.  And Lord knows, I've put years of thought into lesser projects. 

Hon'rble Mentions: 

Jennifer for "Let's Get it Orange"(sorry Barry White)
Melissa for "Pop-a-cap-in-yo-ass soft serve" (cause you gotta have ice cream)
and Molly for "Strawberry Bling" -- everyone needs a little bling

other flavas I thought of while I couldn't sleep the other night were: Brown Paper Bag Bubblegum, Big Pimpin' Pina Colada, Gangsta Rap Raspberry, and Baby Daddy Daquiri.  I thought and thought with no results (shocking, I know) of something to go with "40 Ounce" and I really can't believe I came up dry.  I think it's the O that's throwing me.  Orange doesn't go well, I thought maybe Orangecicle, still doesn't do it for me.  I've kind of settle on "Tutti Fruitti 40 Ounce," but I'm not sure if that will be on the Ghetto Sno-Kone menu.  We only offer the best flavas, don't settle fo less.

Shreveport haiku

no, you can't go home

when home is a state of mind

and your mind is strange

short and not so sweet

So, I'm on my Pappaw's computer and this keyboard is making me crazy, but I thought I'd update y'all. 

I got out of going to breakfast with my dad this morning, 'cause I just couldn't take it.  Avoidance is my way of dealing with unpleasantness at times.  Especially when the unpleasantness is my dad and his GF who I met last night at a bar.  Sometimes I really think people are testing me to see what it would take to send me straight to the mental hospital.  Maybe that's not the case, but you can never be sure. 

Let's see, I think I got to sleep around 3:45, that was the last time I looked at my phone to see the time.  I sent my version of drunk dialing/drunk emailing, which is just super-late night emailing 'cause I think that's the perfect time to tell someone your thoughts, around 2 or 3 am, when I'm making close to no sense and have a giant headache and all.  I blogged more than I should have, but oh, well -- it was What the Hell Friday, afterall. 

In the blur of my blogging last night I forgot to mention the thing that capped off the evening and did cheer me up when we got back to the totally rad Ramada.  I couldn't take a pic 'cause I left my camera at home and my iPhone doesn't have a flash, but there was a van in all kinds of colors parked in the lot with Ghetto Sno-Kone spray painted on the side.  How freakin' frakken awesome is that?  I am so opening Kerry's Ghetto Fabulous Sno-Kone at home.  That beats Papa Sam's Sno Balls and the rest of them.  People will come from all over for my sno cones in flavors like Give Me My Money Blueberry and Crack is Whack Coconut.  My fave would be Drive By Banana, maybe Big Pimpin' Pina Colada.  I haven't named all the flavors yet, but don't worry, I'll get to it.  Y'all be good.  I'm going to lunch with my mom and two of the munchkins.  Scott took Molly to the Tech game, so it's a fun day for all.  Y'all be good and get yourself a ghetto sno-kone.

What the hell Friday

Forgive readers, I know it's not technically Friday anymore, but I think here on the Kerry blog I'm going to institue a new feature I'd like to call What the Hell Friday. This is way more personal than I usually blog, but I can't sleep and whatev -- it's my blog, i can change my own rules. Tonight was a night I had been looking forward to since we decided we were coming in for Thanksgiving. Not only did Scott and I have a night out, we were going to see my friend Will's band. Now, I haven't seen Will in 15 years, so I already had some anxiety about this because I'm me and I'm stupid. I've become friends with his wife, who is pretty fab and I would be seeing her and other friends I hadn't seen since I was a size 16, so my insecurity level was at Level Orange. No, that wasn't enough for my little brain. No. So, I forgot to pack undies for the trip and another pair of jeans. So, I figure I'd wear a dress I brought tonight because I didn't want my jeans to smell like smoke from the bar. No big. I put on my Spanx, new bra, and the dress and realize I'm showing WAY more cleavage than legally allowed in Caddo parish. So, I decide to wear my denim jacket and new scarf with it so I won't be arrested for indecent exposure. I decided I looked kinds cute, for me anyway. Then I called my dad to see when we would see him tomorrow. That was my first mistake. No, second. Like a moron, i'd told him we were going to see Will's band. Dad tells me he and the new girlfriend would be dropping by the bar so I could meet her. What the hell? Y'all, I don't go to bars. I don't drink, smoke bothers me, I was going to see my friend and hear the band. I haven't been in a bar since 1994. Do the math, people. So, Scott and I went to dinner, it was yum-o-rama. Then we went shopping (I had to have undies and something to wear home Sunday) and to Barnes and Noble and had coffee. My anxiety was rising like the flood waters during Katrina, and I'm on cleavage patrol the whole time. We get to the bar, talk to Molly, say hi to Will, band starts playing, it's all good. Not 30 minutes in, Dad shows up with the GF. Now when someone says they're stopping by, how long do you think that means? Not almost two freakin' hours! What the hell? Plus, no one told me it was bring your dad to the tavern night. I knew when he ordered drinks I was going to lose it. I was calm. The band took a break and I sat there trying not to think of breaking a pool cue over my dad's head. I so wanted to bust a ninja move. Really, I'm too damn nice. I wanted to talk to friends, but my dad wanted to make small talk and I loathe small talk. The band starts up again and dad gets the GF another beer. Perfect. Not only am I not wanting to play nice with them, I'm so not in the mood to hear about what a good man dad is when he leaves the table. What the hell? I have no words. Can anything in my life go half-way normal? Of course not. Can I have one anxiety-ridden moment at a time? Hell no. I may tell the rest of the story later on, right now I'm going to see if a John Hughes movie is on or something with Hugh Grant. It's 2:30 am and I need a comedy not based in reality, 'cause hell if I don't have enough going on here.

Thanksgiving trip: day 1

Dear Readers,

I have survived day one of the trip home. I'm posting from my phone, this will be brief. I took a few pics from my grandfather's house where time stands still. The dry erase board on the fridge has had the same info for the past 10-15 years. Not kidding.

The honey on top of the fridge is decorative only because it first entered the house when I was 10. I am 34 years old.

The latest is Pappaw bought a new plasma tv, you'll notice next to it is the 20 year old console tv. It is now a shelf. I told my grandfather I could have it turned into an aquarium, but he likes it the way it is. I love my Pappaw, he's the best.

Hope your Thanksgiving was a blessed one,

Kerry

the annual thankful list

Every year at Thanksgiving we're supposed to reflect on what we're thankful for, and like most people, I count my blessings and am once again reminded of just how blessed I am.  It's great for what ails you, mentally, that is.  It's easy to get bogged down in the day-to-day, I know it is for me anyway.  Once in a while, stepping back and putting things in perspective helps a great deal.  A friend of mine gave me the perspective talk this week and I needed to hear it, as we all do from time to time.  So, here's my Thankful List as only I can write it; taking the daily with the extraordinary and rolling along.

This year I am thankful for:

my God and his promises
family
my husband and everything that makes him him
my oldest daughter Molly and the sweet, spacey girl she is
my middle one, Katie and her questioning, bossy self
my baby Andrew and his all-boy self

I'm thankful for:
medication
friends that listen
friends that are fun
friends that are great to laugh with
friends that know everything about you and like you just the same
cookies
pedicures
naptime
great music
scrapbook retreats
GPS
Thomas the Train
dvds and the dvr
Tuesdays and Thursdays
great purses that I know I'll never have enough of
John, Paul, George, and Ringo
Democracy
allergy medicine
makeup
the word NO
Target
the color pink
the miles between
trivia
Folex
superfantastic hair products
Mexican food
my dog Lucy
inspiration and creativity
sweet potato pie
the Swivel Sweeper
sleep
cameras
lazy days
the Audubon Zoo and Aquarium
decent health
Shakespeare
earrings
80s John Hughes movies
ceiling fans
hydrangeas and tulips
the power of the words "it will be okay"
freckles
white tees, khaki capris, and denim jackets
comedy
Hello Kitty
the iPhone
babysitters
the lock on my bathroom door
blogging
Emily Dickinson
books
chocolate
words of wisdom
great lipstick
plums
coffee
the Volatile shoe company
partners in crime
my office (when I finish arranging it)
Eggo's, Lunchables, and Goldfish
unexpected happies
quiet
knowing I'm not perfect and being okay with that
knowing there is no such thing as perfect (except for God), not even (insert whatever here)
feeling fabulous, whatever that is at the time
not being afraid
reading glasses
knowing better
little kid giggles
artwork
purpose
the way a song can make you feel
the interwebs
pajamas and slippers
a good drive
knowing when to hold my tongue
a great pen
my Mom Agenda planner
letting go
the everyday
timing
a good story
hugs and kisses
Vera Wang Flower Princess perfume
growing up
and knowing better

Well, that's my list for this year.  I'm sure some are the same as last, I'm sure some I should have kept to myself, and I'm sure there are some I've left out.  Pretty close to the top of the list is that I'm thankful to be alive and being exactly who I am.  That's a good thing.

Y'all have a happy Thanksgiving.  I'll be a guest in my hometown and will spend time with family and see friends I haven't seen in 15 years, not that I'm counting.  I've been busy with the things of life and haven't we all?  Feel free to leave your thankful list in the Comments and I'll talk to you next week if not before.  Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. 

tunes you need Tuesday: Christmas edition

EDIT:  the Christmas song list below is only one of my mixes -- the swing/favorites playlist.  Y'all know me -- I have several Christmas playlists: rock, Elvis, crooners, and the kids list.  So, any song you feel I've left out is most likely on another playlist.  I take my Christmas music seriously, because at no point will I turn on the radio to hear Manhiem Steamroller, Barry Manilow, Mariah Carey, or God forbid -- John Denver with the Muppets.  

Christmas is my favorite holiday.  I'm a gift-giving fool, always have been.  Receiving gifts is not my thing, I'm a giver.  When I see something a loved one would appreciate, I buy it 'cause I like to make to make the people I care about happy.  Occasionally I'll make a purchase for the sole purpose of aggravating someone, but most often, it's out of love.  When I was younger I hated giving music as gifts, but I view it differently now, especially when the gift is well thought out.  So, why not make the Christmas mix cd for your fam or friends so they won't have to listen to the garbage on the holiday radio stations.  Here's what I included on my mix, it's fun and it swings, rocks, and rolls. 

All of the following songs are available on iTunes (I know 'cause that's where I got them).  Go download them for a proper Christmas song education.

1. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" is my fave Christmas song of all time.  I love it so much I have several versions, but you have to go with the original Judy Garland to start with.  If you want to branch out after Judy, get Ella Fitzgerald's version, too.
2. "(Everybody's Waitin' for) the Man with the Bag" by Kay Starr is just fun, big band, horns, fab.
3. "A Holly Jolly Christmas" by Burle Ives is a classic and a must if you have kids.
4. "The Christmas Song" by Mel Torme is the version I like, but you can go with Nat King Cole's -- that's the one you hear most often.
5. "Christmastime is Here" and "Greensleeves" from the Charlie Brown Christmas Special by the Vince Guaraldi Trio just say Christmas to me.
6. "Jingle All the Way" by Lena Horne is just plain awesome.
7. "I've Got my Love to Keep Me Warm" by Billie Holiday is one of my faves.  Sensing a theme here?  I dig the old school Christmas songs that are fun and swingy.
8. "Cool Yule" by Louis Armstrong is the bomb.  Put it on and dance.
9. "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" by Brenda Lee is a must.  
10. "O Christmas Tree" by Aretha Franklin is on the list because she's Aretha.  'nuff said. 
11. "Please Come Home for Christmas" by the Eagles goes nicely with the rest and it's one of my faves.
12. "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" by John Mellencamp makes the list for the notalgia factor.
13. "I'll Be Home for Christmas" is the only Michael Buble song you'll hear me play.
14. "This Christmas (Hang All the Mistletoe)" by Macy Gray is really fun and fits in with all the old school tunes. 
15. "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" by U2 is my second favorite Christmas song in the history of ever.  Love love love.
16. "Christmas in Hollis" by Run-DMC is the final word on any Christmas mix of mine.  If you don't have it, you might as well not make a mix, that's all there is to it.

Well, that's my list for this Tunes You Need Tuesday.  I'm sure there are a few listed that you're not familiar with and maybe this is the season to branch out.  Why listen to all the traditional stuff when you can swing?  And don't you dare play any Manheim Steamroller or Celine Dion around me at Christmas.  I'm not kidding, it's like nails on a chalkboard to hear either of those.  So, after the turkey and dressing Thursday, download some Christmas tunes that are fun and just say no to the radio this season. 

calling all superheroines

Don't say I never hooked a sister up.  Webundies.com has grown-up girl Wonder Woman underoos in a cami & panty set.  Awe yeah.  And they have plus sizes, too for some of us. They're seriously too cute.  They also have Super Girl, but Wonder Woman rocks.  And don't worry boys, you can get Superman, Batman, or Spiderman undies (cape not included).

So, chickies, I think Tuesday nights are a good night for fighting crime.  You know, after House.  Y'all want to meet at Starbucks?  I'll drive. Just be sure to wear your underoos and be ready to kick some ass. I always like to do my ass-kicking after a venti java chip frap.  The city will be a safer place with us in our underoos.

this is where I put my foot down

Word on the street is our Beyonce (aka Sasha Fierce) is begging to be the next Wonder Woman in the film currently in pre-production by Warner Brothers. 
 
I think I speak for all of us who grew up with Wonder Woman on television, when I say oh, hell to the no, Beyonce, you are not Wonder Woman.  This is where I put my foot down.  We simply cannot stand for this, people.  

Do I need to remind you who my friend on the right is?  This is Lynda Carter, the Wonder Woman of my generation.  She was Amazon Princess Diana of Paradise Island and became Wonder Woman on tv from 1975 until I was 5 in 1979.  She had an invisible jet and magic lasso, a boomerang crown and bullet-deflecting bracelets -- what I wouldn't give for some of those bracelets!  I've checked Macy's, I can't find them.  And the boots!  Those are crime-fighting boots.  If I had those boots right now, New Orleans would not have the highest crime rate in America.  Well, it would take more than the boots, I'd need the whole costume.  And someone to be my sidekick 'cause I hate fighting crime alone.  You know what I mean.  A girl's gotta have friends.  And an invisible jet wouldn't be bad either. 

Can you see Beyonce in that costume?  No. Plus, Wonder Woman does not sing and Beyonce has sung in the movies she's been in to stop you from noticing what a mediocre actress she is. 

Let's talk about this for a minute.  If you're my age you grew up with Lynda Carter, too.  I did not wear Wonder Woman Underoos in the late 70's for this.  That's right, the Underwear that's fun to wear.  Man, those were awesome!  Do they still make those, 'cause I'm so getting them.  Not for my girls, for me.  Okay, I'll get some for the girls, too.
Anyway, at no time when I was a little girl running around in my Underoos did I think "ooo- I hope when I have kids a big movie studio will make a movie version of Wonder Woman with a singer who thinks she's an actress and has an alter ego!"  No way. 

Have we learned nothing from Catwoman?  Ah, how quick we forget.  Halle Berry is great and all, but she's no Catwoman just like Beyonce's no Wonder Woman.

That's Beyonce in her finest crazy costume. Do you see Wonder Woman?  No, Beyonce is better suited   play, oh, I don't know, maybe C3PO's love interest in a future Star Wars film.  Or Mr. Roboto's love interest in the Styx reunion tour.  Here's what she had to say on her plans: 

"I would definitely have to keep it right for that costume. The way that Lynda Carter wore it, she was sooo fine. She was amazing. I saw her costume at the Met. Her waist was unbelievable. It was pretty crazy, actually, her proportions. But I love Wonder Woman and it'd be a dream come true to be that character. It sure would be handy to have that lasso. To make everybody tell the truth? I need that. It would come in very handy."

Say wha?  Why does she need the lasso of truth so bad?  Maybe it's because she and hubs Jay-Z won't actually admit they were married a few months ago.  I don't know, I'm just sayin.  I'll check in with y'all later, I have to write a letter to Warner Brothers Studios.