Best wishes and warm regards

When I wake up in the morning, I stumble to the bathroom sink, brush my teeth, and look at myself in the mirror. Usually I see something like this:
As I'm admiring my amazing bedhead and my general beauty in the morning, one question comes to mind: "WHY am I still single?" I mean, I really have no idea why no man would want to wake up next to THIS every morning. I really don't. Is it because I refuse to date men who start sentences off with "I ain't got no . . ."? Is it because I'm too judgmental when men sport mullets? Or is it because I'll never love a man the way I love the fajitas at Lupe Tortilla? I don't know the answer. But I'm tired of the status quo.

So I've joined the world of online dating.

So far, my experience has been an interesting one. I've had contact with one really nice and really normal guy and that has been super fun. But I've also been contacted by a few . . . ummmmmm . . . interesting guys. And by "interesting" I mean "Holy CRAP! People like this really exist??" For instance, one guy from California just emailed me the other day. And I think that we could be just PERFECT for each other. "Why do you think that, Catherine?" you ask. Well, see for yourselves:

Hi Pretty,

My name is Gary and I am 47 years old.

I beg to be counted among the crowds who behold your splendor because angels conspired to paint you a masterpiece. [Wow. I don't . . . I can't . . . is he . . . My armpits are sweating. They're ACTUALLY sweating after just one freakin' line.] You're so appealing that I think we could make a perfect and unique connection. [Weeeeeell . . . Let's agree to disagree on that one, bud.] I was caught by your lovely look and smiles that is so geniune, captivating and I guess from your heart too?. [Well, when you can't decide if you're making a statement or asking a question, the ever-popular question mark/period combination is always a good choice.] This definitely means that you must be a very special, nice, kind and unique person with such a combined beauty and radiant smile by the Grace of God. [Must . . . find . . . delete . . .] Most importantly, I am more concern about the beauty of the Heart and Soul than the outside beauty. Outside beauty will fade away with time, but the beauty of Heart and Soul will stay for forever.

I don't play planks or a flatter with stuffs of the nature, [wait - come again . . .?] I mean every word from the bottom of my heart. playing planks or flattering to me is like cheating. Best wishes and Warm Regards.

Since most people say they like to travel, [Wait - there's more? But didn't he just say "Best wishes and Warm Regards?" I'm so confused . . .] it would be nice to meet someone out of the neighborhood to visit another city. Most people just settle for someone because it is convenient, because they live close. That is pretty sad. If someone is willing to make a supreme effort to get to know you, maybe such person is worth getting to know too. Please don’t tell me our profiles don’t match on distance if that is the only reason why you are not interested. [Oh buddy . . . that is the LEAST of our problems, believe me . . .]

If you are interested in meeting a true gentleman, send me an email. Let me know even if you are not interested. [Okay . . . I'm not.] Keep Smiling and God Bless you always as you want to know more about me, we can chat via yahoo or msn IM, it is more convinient, secured and faster compared to this medium. On the messenger, instant answers can be given to any possible question. You can also send me your yahoo or msn email address, s o that I can add you to my yahoo IM.

I look forward to your response soon. [Weeeeeeeeell . . . define "soon" . . .]
Yours: Gary


Ahhhhhhh . . . now I see. Thaaaaaaaaat's why I'm still single.

Seriously?? Is this what I have to look forward to in this online world? This going to be a painful process.

I feel like someone is playing a plank on me . . .

Budget cuts hit home.

As you all know, Texas has been having some MAJOR budget issues as of late. Naturally, the State has had to make some budget cuts to alleviate the situation. Up until now, I've been lucky because I haven't seen too many effects of such cutbacks. But I know it's coming. And, in fact, today I was driving down the main street in my hometown and I noticed one of the first casualties of the budget crisis: apparently the road-sign proofreader has been laid off . . .


As Texans we just cannot stand for this. We must rally together to help her get her job back. And not just because we need our signs spell-checked. Not even because signs like this will make me cause 10 car pile-ups. No, friends - we need to do this because it's the rigth thing to do . . .

A sweet party

This weekend I celebrated my 35th birthday in style. Well, maybe I should say that I celebrated in sugar . . .

For the past three months, I have been in a contest with some girls at work to see who can give up processed foods for the longest period of time. So I have not had any processed food since the beginning of July. But the most beautiful thing is that the other girls in the contest and I have decided that we get to cheat for our birthdays.

And I've been jonesin' for some sugar, people - wonderful, glorious sugar. Sugar that's processed, refined, and then processed and refined again.

So I decided that, for my birthday, I would invite some friends over and ask them to bring a dessert instead of a gift so that we could have one huge dessert party. At first, I planned to invite a TON of people. But then we decided to have it over at my mom's house and make it a pool party, which meant that I'd have to be in a bathing suit at some point. Sooooooooo I had to pare down the list considerably and invite only those people who are either blind or bound by the ties of unconditional love. And, honestly, the unconditional love part still had me a little insecure.

Can I just tell you that a dessert party is the BEST idea I've EVER had?? It was awesome. And everyone came bearing major YUMMIES. Emma and Ben made me some cupcakes:

Avery and Savannah made me some cookies [see them in the back there?]:

And my friend Diana brought me Heaven on a plate:

But that wasn't it! My roommate brought sopapilla cheesecake, Jill brought banana pudding, my friend Tracy brought a fresh strawberry cake, Tammy brought fruit pies, Erin brought cookies, my friend Amy brought cupcakes from Frost, my friend Vicki brought a ton of fruit, and my other friend Tracy brought a cookie cake. It was the most amazing display of sugar you've ever seen. And I did NOT have trouble digging in.

Because there was a Swiss Cake Roll with my name on it . . .

And then, of course, I had to try a little bit of what everyone made for me - you know, because I didn't want to be rude or anything. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I got a little carried away . . .

But at least my family and friends were there to help me so that I didn't embarrass myself . . .

It was awesome. I got chocolate on my shirt, frosting in my hair, and I fell JUST short of my goal of going into a sugar coma by 2 am . . . but it sure wasn't for lack of trying!

Thanks for the birthday wishes everyone!!

My mid-life crisis.

Well, today is my birthday - that glorious day when I get to be the center of attention. The day when people can break into song on my behalf and it's not awkward. And the day when I can eat as much cake and ice cream as I want without being judged.

I freakin' LOVE my birthday.

BUT . . . I have to confess something to you today: this year I feel like I might be on the verge of a mid-life crisis because I'm 35 years old and had hoped to accomplish so much more by this point in my life. I mean, there are MAJOR goals that I haven't reached . . . and important dreams that haven't been realized. And it's kind of depressing.

"Aren't you being a little hard on yourself, Catherine?" you ask. I don't think so. I've wasted my time when I could have been well on the way to checking some of these things off of my life's "to-do" list. But I'll let y'all judge for yourselves. Just take a look at all the things that I have yet to accomplish . . .

1. Be the recipient of a comment such as: "You look a little thin - are you sure you're eating enough?"
Sure, this may seem a little shallow but it's a dream of mine so don't knock it. And I'm not picky - I'll even take something similar, like "Man, you barely ate ANYthing tonight" or "Is that your hip bone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You know - something along those lines.

2. Being asked to tour with the Hip Hop Abs group as a back-up dancer.
Look, I've been doing Hip Hop Abs for a while now and I think it's time I got recognized for all my hard work. No, I don't have any rhythm. No, I don't have any soul. But you've not seen the "Flava Jam" or the "Oblique Slammer" until you've seen me do them. Aaaaaaand, frankly, you won't see me do them because I keep the blinds closed and the lights off so that I don't embarrass myself. So maybe this goal is a bit premature . . .

3. Getting Mike Rowe to marry me using any means necessary . . . including, but not limited to, a pregnancy scare.
Don't judge me. I love that man.

4. Getting in the Guinness Book of World Records for "Thickest layer of Cheetos cheese on fingers." I've tried, people. I really have. But the problem is that the cheese is just so darn GOOD. I try to resist it but I just can't do it - I have to lick it off, essentially licking my chances at a world record away. But it is SO worth it . . .

5. Getting a wedding ring that's so big I have to take it off every three hours to give my hand muscles a break.
Again, you make think this is shallow. I think it is a worthy ambition. But, frankly, at this point I'd take a ring pop . . .

6. Use the phrase "Fo shizzle, yo" in a conversation without anybody thinking it's funny.
Stop laughing. Yep - I think I need to start coming to grips with the fact that I may never accomplish this one.

7. Have the Permullet admitted to the Hair Hall of Fame.
Seriously - why hasn't this been done yet? It's a travesty. And the worst part is that I'm SURE it would be a total SHOE-IN. I mean, just LOOK at it:
It's amazing. And it needs to be recognized on a national level, friends.

8. Be mistaken for a butt model.
I sometimes fantasize about having this conversation with someone:

Stranger: Excuse me . . . did you model in the March 2005 Abercrombie catalog?
Me: No, I didn't.
Stranger: Were you in the 2008 "Ifs Ands and BUTTS" Calendar?
Me: Nope - sure wasn't.
Stranger: Well, you are a dead ringer for whoever did. Your butt is amazing.
Me: Wow! Thanks!
Stranger: It's so firm.
Me: Wow - that went from flattering to awkward REALLY fast . . .
Stranger: Can I touch it?
Me: Ummmm . . .

And, friends, I'm not too proud to admit that I'm not really sure what my response would be in that situation . . .

9. Get a Little Debbie snack cake named after me.
This would be the greatest dream EVER. And I even have a name picked out for mine: Catchy Cakes. Seriously - how perfect is that?? I think they'd be some sort of cross between Oatmeal Creme Pies and Swiss Cake Rolls. Well, actually, that might be totally disgusting . . . but the NAME is super presh and that's all that matters. And the best part is that I'm SURE that if Deb named a cake after me we would TOTALLY be BFFs and she'd give me a lifetime supply of Swiss Cake Rolls. And then my life would be complete.

10. All kidding aside, I do have one goal that I really DO want to accomplish: Rid the world of abuse . . . of the word "literally."
Seriously. I can't take it anymore. My friend just emailed me tonight to tell me that this lady told him that she'd been in a wreck and it LITERALLY killed her. This is the kind of abuse that I want to eradicate. I want to run for office with that as my platform, asking for harsh prison sentences for people who say things like "I was so mad I was LITERALLY spitting fire." Do I have your vote?

So now you see why I'm a little down this year and why I feel like I've let myself down. These are HUGE goals to leave unrealized . . . I can't believe that I have failed so miserably. It's so depressing. I'd really like to have a mid-life crisis over it all but I can't afford a Corvette and I have no pool boy to have an affair with. BUT there's always Gustavo . . .

Hmmmm - I think I'm gonna like my mid-life crisis!!

Gonna have to work on that . . .

You know how I am about grammar and word usage, right? Well, the rest of my family is like that, too. My sisters and I are all grammar and words people because our parents always were. And I have no doubt that my sisters' kids will follow in their mothers' footsteps, too . . . because they know that if they don't, we might disown them.

But learning proper grammar is a process, just like anything else. And it takes a while to learn all the rules. So they make mistakes now and again that just crack me up.

For instance . . .

My mom was out with my niece Emma (9) and my nephew Ben (6) the other day and she was trying to park her car. She pulled into the spot but her park job was horrible. That's when this conversation happened:

Ben: [opens the door and sees the parking job] Dearsie, you did a horrible job. Just horrible. You're on the line.
Dearsie: I am?
Ben: Yes . . . it's hooooooooorrible.
Dearsie: Well, you're very encouraging. Close the door and I'll fix it.
Ben: Okay.
Dearsie: [backs out and pulls back in]
Ben: [opens the door to examine the new parking job, only to find that it's worse than before] Dearsie, your parking is getting more worser.
Dearsie: More worser??
Ben: Yeah. It's more worser than before.
Emma: Ben - it's not "more worser" . . . it's just "worser."
Ben: Oh. Dearsie, it's worser.

Well, she almost got it right . . .

And then Erin told me about something that Avery said the other day that is quite alarming because it involves one of my biggest pet peeves. Avery (5) and Savannah (7) were taking a bath and they decided to have a contest to see who could hold their breath longest under water. So they both went under and Savannah came up before Avery did. When Avery came up, they had this conversation:

Savannah: You won, Avery!
Avery: Literally?
Savannah: Yeah! You won!
Avery: LITERALLY????

She's only 5 so I'll let her get away with this blatant misuse of the word "literally." But she better have it under control by the time she's 7. Because if any of my sisters' kids grows up to abuse that word, my ears will melt, my head will explode, and I'll die.

Literally.

Nora: The Owner's Manual (Part Two)

As I told y'all yesterday, I've decided to start renting my mom out for parties. It makes sense, really, because everyone loves my stories about my mom . . . so why not give them the opportunity to experience her in person? But I realized that Nora Renters (like yourself, perhaps?) would benefit from an Owner's Manual that would provide tips, explanations and, in some cases, apologies to assist them during their rental period. So bit by bit, I'm compiling all the information I need to give YOU all the information YOU need when you rent my mom.

For instance . . .

1. Beverages
If, during your rental period, you offer my mom a drink, there are a few things you should know.

a. She likes Diet Coke or Regular Pepsi. You'll need to know this because, if you all are sitting around chatting and you happen to stand up to do something like go to the bathroom, answer the door, or save a drowning child, she will doubtless say: "I'd love a Diet Coke while you're up . . ." And you need to know that she likes LOTS of ice in her Diet Cokes so make sure that you're not stingy in the ice department . . .

b. She loves hot chocolate and will definitely accept a mug of it if you offer her some. And you might decide on the spur of the moment that you will be super fun and go that extra mile by garnishing that hot chocolate with some marshmallows. Sort of like a little surprise for her. And that's a great idea. Except for one thing . . . she likes to rinse her marshmallows before putting them in the hot chocolate. Yep. That's what I said. She rinses her marshmallows . . . because she doesn't like marshmallow dust. Don't ask questions, people . . .

c. If you're having a barbecue and everyone's drinking ice-cold beers, you might find yourself offering my mom one. She's not really a drinker and she's REALLY not a beer drinker but there's something about ice-cold beer that she's attracted to. She thinks it looks good, even though she knows she doesn't like the taste. So if you offer her one, she'll probably say yes. But she'll want it to be in an ice-cold mug, for some reason, so hopefully you have one in your freezer for the occasion. Aaaaaaaaaaaaand she'll take one sip and then she'll be done . . . because she really does NOT like beer. But she'll talk a while about how it looks so niiiiiiiiice and coooooooooold. Allow me to apologize for the wasted beer . . .


2. Road trips
Are you wanting a great conversationalist to accompany you on your trip? Do you want someone who will make you laugh with witty comments as you drive? Then you should DEFINITELY rent my mom for your next road trip! She will make the time fly because she is great at finding interesting and fun topics to talk about.

HOWEVER . . . are you trying to get somewhere quickly? Are you attempting to beat your last time of 3 hours and 2 minutes from Houston to Dallas? Then you should definitely NOT rent my mom for that road trip. And let me explain why . . .

First of all, she loves a "lark." What is a lark? Well, it's a little spontaneous excursion, if you will. So you will hear this many times on your trip: "What does that sign say? Old General Store, Next Exit? Let's go check it out! Come ooooooooooon . . . it'll be a lark!!" Larks are NOT good for breaking record travel times . . .

Second, she cannot use the restroom at just any old place. McDonald's? Absolutely not. Burger King? Are you kidding me? Gas station? Go slap your own face. Nope - on a road trip, my mom will only use the restroom at a hotel. So that means that you cannot combine your gas/lunch/restroom stop at that Chevron with the attached Taco Bell. Noooooooooooo. That would be too easy. Instead, you have to pull out of the Chevron and drive over to the Holiday Inn so that my mom can go in and use their restrooms. She feels that they're cleaner than any other option and she's got a good point. But it is a serious set-back in time. And, to make matters worse, she's worried that they won't let her use the restroom if she's not a guest there so she makes you go in to run interference by pretending to inquire about their hotel. I can't tell you the number of Holiday Inn, Comfort Suites, and Hampton brochures I've been given over the years. Take my word for it - she's not the road trip buddy for you if you're in a hurry.

And third, she thinks the trip from Houston to Dallas (which is 3 and half hours AT MOST) is too long and should maybe be broken up into a two-day trip. In fact, she and my dad drove to Dallas from Houston once and she convinced him to stop and spend the night in Ennis. For those of you who aren't familiar with that trip, Ennis is only about 40 miles outside of Dallas. THEY WERE ALMOST THERE. I'm so glad that I wasn't on that trip because I think it would have killed a part of my soul to have stopped. It's killing a bit of my soul even now, just writing about it . . .


3. Phone calls
If my mom calls you at any point during the day, she will likely butt-dial you at least 5 more times. So it's a good idea to invest in the unlimited minutes plan with your cell phone provider.


4. Movies
My mom loves movies and will always be up for catching one with you. But you should know that if there is a highly inappropriate line in the movie that you would rather die than repeat, my mom will not hear it. And then she'll turn to you and ask you what they just said. It's horrible. So be warned that you'll have lots of moments like this:

Actor in movie: And then I'm gonna take your blankety blank and shove it up your bleepity bleep so far that you'll have to blank to blank for the rest of your bleeping life.
Mom: [in a loud whisper] What did he say?
Me: [Oh, Lord, no! Just ignore her, Catherine. Pretend you can't hear her right now. It'll work.]
Mom: [poking my arm] Catherine . . . what did he say?
Me: [gulp] I don't know. I couldn't hear it.
Mom: He said something about shoving something up his blankety blank . . .
Me: [Oh God, please spare me] Oh he did? I didn't hear it.
Mom: Are you sure? What did he say he was going to have to do for the rest of his life?
Me: [Please - make it stop . . .] No idea. He was mumbling so I missed it.
Mom: Too bad. Seems like it might have been an important line.
Me: I know. Bummer, right?

Just play dumb, friends. It's the only solution.


Well, I hope this gives you an idea of what to expect when you spend a little time with my mom. I'll update this manual from time to time so that you have all the up-to-date information that you need.

And, in the meantime, I'll be working on my next project . . .

Nora: The Pocket Translator - The Everything-You-Need-Guide To Understand What the Heck She's Saying . . .

Nora: The Owner's Manual (Part One)

I have written about my mom so much on this blog that she has developed quite a following of devoted fans. Some of you know her personally and some of you only know her through her antics as retold here on The Catherine Chronicles, but ALL of you love her.

And that's why I've decided to start renting her out for parties.

I'm still working out the details - you know, like how much I'll charge per hour - but I think this idea will really be one of my best, and most lucrative, ideas to date. But, as I started drafting the rental agreement and the commercial jingle, I realized that not everyone knows my mom and her quirks like my sisters and I do. So I figured that the most responsible thing to do would be to create a list of instructions that people can reference when they rent my mom out for the evening so that they'll know EXACTLY how to handle any situation that my arise. And so I have begun to assemble the single greatest Nora reference guide to date. Okay, well it's the ONLY Nora reference guide to date but that's beside the point . . .

ANYWAY, it is with great honor that I now present to you Part One of . . . "Nora: The Owner's Manual."

What's in this manual? Everything you need to know about Nora, my friend. You'll find all kinds of instructions, tips, explanations, and troubleshooting ideas - arranged by topic - that I think you will find helpful if you decide to rent my mom out for your next party. Just read on and you'll understand what I mean . . .


1. Food
My mom has very particular eating habits and you need to know this if you are going to rent her out for the evening. Here are a few rules to keep in mind:

a. She like hot dogs at the movies. And she likes mustard on the hot dog. BUT she does not want to SEE the mustard. Yes - you read that right. No - you're not crazy. Let me say it for you again: She likes mustard on her hot dog but only if she cannot SEE it. So you have to put the mustard on under the hot dog and then gently rest the hot dog back onto the bed of mustard you created so that it hides any hint of yellow. And, yes, YOU will be doing this because she does not get her own food at the movies . . .

b. She also likes popcorn at the movies. Buttered popcorn, to be exact. And you need to know that she likes butter in the middle AND on top. So you have to get them to fill up the bag halfway and then let you put butter on that part. Then you have to give it to them so that they can fill the rest of the bag up with popcorn and THEN you have to put butter on the top. But here's the rub - while she loves the butter on her popcorn, it makes her cough throughout the movie. So she's enjoying her popcorn but you can't hear half of the dialogue because the butter has coated her throat and she's coughing up a lung. But at least she will have paid for your movie ticket . . .

c. Speaking of popcorn . . . she likes cheese-flavored popcorn but it has to be from a certain place. My dad never failed to get her a big tub of it from her favorite place for Christmas and my mom would eat that stuff for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The problem is that from Christmas Eve until sometime in mid-March, my mom has orange fingers. From the cheese flavoring. So keep that in mind if you're wanting to rent her around that time . . .

d. She has a strange habit when it comes to Werther's Original candies, in particular. I don't know what it is about THAT candy specifically, but she has to put two of them in her mouth when she eats them. Because she likes the clicking sound they make. Just go with it, people.

e. She likes Cinnamon Raisin Bagels. Well, that's not exactly accurate - she likes the RAISINS from the Cinnamon Raisin Bagels. She will buy an entire bag of Cinnamon Raisin Bagels and just eat the raisins. So don't be startled if you see a bagel lying around that looks like a rat got to it. It wasn't a rat - it was my mom. Eating just the raisins from the bagel. "Catherine, why doesn't she just buy a box of raisins?" you ask. Ahhhhh - I have asked the same question, my friends. And the answer? It beats the heck outta me.


2. Animals
My mom is not really much of an "animal lover." And no one knows this more than my dog, Jacques. He was my dad's dog and I inherited him after my dad died. When he was living with my parents, he was really territorial over my dad when my dad was sick. So when my mom would try to bring my dad his medicine, Jacques would try to attack her feet to keep her away. I'll admit it - he was a BRAT. I tried lots of different techniques to try to stop him, but all to no avail (alas, I had not yet been introduced to my man Cesar Milan!) So my mom - the animal lover - fought Jacques off by spraying hairspray at him. Which didn't do a THING to deter his territorial behavior. Instead, it just made him a well-coiffed territorial dog. Eat your hearts our, PETA.

While we're on the topic . . . if, when you're renting my mom, you introduce her to your pets, please do not be offended if she doesn't remember your dog's name. My sister has had a dog named Lola for several years and my mom just cannot remember her name. Well, I take that back - she just remembers the WRONG name . . . she calls her Lolly. Consistently. And my friend Andy had a dog named Copper that my mom always called either Porter or Cooper. But never Copper. She just can't seem to get a handle on pet names. And it's likely that yours will be no different.

She also can't dog genders right. Now, my mom remembers that my dog's name is Jacques and I think that's because he lived with my parents for several years. But she can't seem to remember that he is a HE. So we have lots of conversations like this:

Mom: [pointing to Jacques] Does she need to go outside?
Me: Yes. And he's a boy.
Mom: Whatever.

Or . . .

Mom: [pointing to Jacques] Catherine, what is she doing? Does she want something? Does she want one of her toys?
Me: Mom . . . HE'S A BOY.
Mom: Oh, whatever. Just get her away from me.

She's a veritable Dr. Doolittle, I tell ya.


So there you have it - the beginnings of my Owner's Manual. She's a very complicated person so I have a long way to go on this thing before it's ready for final print. But at least you can get started studying the above tips/explanations so that you'll be ready to rent her for your next party.

And I'll get back to you on the hourly rates . . .