The PYB had a wonderful time with her Super Buff Gay Friend, V, Danita, Re and Jeanne today at the movie and then lunch at Bailey's afterwards. Nothing like a green salad, lite beer and friends!
She attended the first Paranormal Activity movie with SBGF so, of course, they were planning to see the sequel together. And, once again, they were grabbing each other at the spooky parts. Poor Re kept getting elbowed by the PYB on one side of her and from Danita on the other side. Re was the most reluctant to go since she is not a fan of horror movies and she did not jump one time! The rest of the group yelped and squirmed in their seats. Those who had seen PA1 agreed that it wasn't as scary as the first one. It was maybe more disturbing than horrifying, perhaps, because a baby is involved (no spoilers).
What the PYB liked best was how this story was concurrent with the first movie. PA2 took place in the house of Dan and Kristi who have two children, a teenager and a new baby. PA1 happened in the home of Micah and Katie, who also show up in the sequel. Both movies take place in same time frame so each house has demonic activity going on; but it isn't spoken about much between households. Kristi and Katie are sisters and have a mysterious childhood that is referenced briefly. The PYB predicts that the next PA movie will address that, "you don't want to be like mother." Very intriguing.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
The Petite Young Blonde, Sam and Dean: Things She has Learned from Watching Supernatural
35. Hellhounds; you can’t see them, but they can sure as hell see you. And, yes, their bark is as bad as their bite…run!
34. Children who have contact with demons are sure to need plenty of therapy.
33. It’s a bad sign when a bunch of reapers have gathered; have an angel handy or…run!
32. Monsters are equal opportunity killers…run!
 |
| This was Sam's girlfriend. Same thing happened to their mom. |
30. Being a demon hunter is hard on your family life.
29. When at a crossroads don’t offer a deal to a hot guy/girl who suddenly pops in. You could be making a deal with your soul as the price tag…run!
 |
| She is not what she appears to be.... |
28. Buying antique portraits can be hazardous to your to your health. They might have hanger-on ghosties attached to them…run!
27. Angels are just bad-asses with wings who fight for good.
26. You CAN go to hell and back.
25. Do NOT investigate strange noises in the basement. It never works out well…run!
24. Scarecrows are freaky-deeky. If it looks at you…run!
23. The Apocalypse is not for the feint of heart.
22. Everyone needs a friend like Bobby; a drop-everything-be-there-when-you-need-him-help-you-bury-the-body-type of friend.
21. Withdrawal from demon blood is hell. Just say no!
20. There are some really tacky hotel/motels out there.
19. “Being inhabited by an angel is like being chained to a convent." (Castiel)
 |
| Castiel the angel. |
18. Buy a platform bed. Nothing can hide or drag you under it.
17. Salt is a very important substance! Have lots of it on hand for demon emergencies and be sure to put salt in windowsills and doorways. Demons can’t cross a salt line. You can also make a circle around yourself.
16. Latin: learn it. It’s a need-to-know language when expelling demons from your neighbors.
15. Shape shifters cannot touch silver so keep a silver fork on your person.
14. Rock salt: when shot from a gun will dispel ghosts.
13. DO NOT PARK over sewer grates! Creepy things will crawl out and pull you down into the muck with it.
12. You can’t kill a trickster – it’ll trick you too fast to get a good shot off…run!
 |
| He's not dead; he's just trickin'. |
11. Beware of anyone with black, white or yellow eyes. They are obviously harboring a demon…run!
10. Blinking lights and a sudden gush of cold air do not mean the electricity is funky or the air conditioner has kicked in…run!
9. Sulphur smell: it’s not just rotten eggs or a science experiment…run!
8. Always have a sarcastic comment ready to use when in a tight spot.
7. If windy-up toys start on their own….run!
6. Holy water is good to have around to help identify possible demons. Throw it on the “person” and then run!
 |
| Can't be too careful. |
5. Ghouls are harder to pick out than shapeshifters.
4. Good muscle tone is important, too, when finding oneself in a tight spot.
3. Dean’s car, a ’67 Chevy Impala, is a HOT car!
2. Creepy little kids are really creepy little demons. Especially, creepy little white girls. Angels inhabiting human bodies are more people-friendly than demons who are inhabiting human bodies; but not by much.
And the NUMBER ONE thing the PYB has learned from watching Supernatural is....Sam is H O T Dean is a rock star!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsyMtYoSkC0
You are now prepared to fend off the things that go bump in the night.
Friday, October 1, 2010
The Petite Jeune Fille Brunette Has Her Say
or...Boys are Stupid, Throw Rocks at Them
The moral of this story is - don't mess with the affections of the PJFB. She'll come back at you like a spider monkey.
I'm done.
I'm through.
You used to make me happy,
But now I'm blue.
What ever happened to jokes we used share?
Or the way we just didn't care?
Now, it's like I'm not ever there...
I've played your game,
And I'm sick of the show.
Just tell me now, or just leave, just go.
I'm a stronger person, than you will ever be,
Because I know what's right for me.
You can tell me that everything's fine.
But I already know, you'll never be mine.
So, stop with the pulling
Of my stings that are attached.
Just cut it, just like you did the last.
I'm telling you this now,
Because I've finally figured it out.
You mean to jerk me around,
So I'll never have a doubt.
You can give it up,
Cause I'm just done with your tricks.
You're just another filthy bundle of lies and sticks.
What's sad is that,
You used to be,
A wonderful guy.
But now I'm learning,
That I'm just another one of your ties.
Wrapped around your finger, and wound so tight.
It's like I'm a puppet.
But guess what sparky?
That's ending tonight.
If friends is all we can be, then so be it.
I'm tired of your screwing around.
Your excuses.
Your whining.
I'm done with this never-ending flirtation.
It's rather annoying.
So lets just stop it now, cause I'm tired of the lies.
I'm not a child, so just shut up and try.
I see that you like other people,
And I'm not entirely surprised that you do.
But you know buddy,
The only person I like,
Is you.
So, you're acting like a jackass,
When you say the same things,
To all your ladies and then me.
This is what I wish I could say,
To your face right now.
And then walk along home,
In a billowy cloud.
Knowing that I won,
And the truth was told.
Then you go home, to your small dark hole.
And I am the one on the other end of the pole.
Smiling and happy,
Like I always should.
Cause you don't deserve what I have.
Or what I offer.
I've realized this now,
Thanks to a friend.
And you can go screw yourself.
I'm done. This is the end.
The moral of this story is - don't mess with the affections of the PJFB. She'll come back at you like a spider monkey.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The Petite Young Blonde and the Dancing Boner
Shortly after moving back to the ATL, the Petite Young Blonde, delightfully discovered that the incomparable Mikhail Baryshnikov was touring and coming to the beautiful Fox Theater. The PYB adored, admired and was simply obsessed with Mr. Baryshnikov back then and had been for many, many years. In case you didn't know he is a Russian ballet dancer who defected to the United States in 1974. He fascinated the PYB and she always watched the Nutcracker on PBS every Christmas. It did not escape her that he was also incredibly beautiful and, oh my, those legs........she had about three framed posters in her room. She read everything she could get her hands on articles and stories about him and even wrote a paper about him in college (an absolute literary masterpiece). So, Baryshnikov at the Fox? The Petite Young Blonde was going to be there!
The Hunky Husband was less than thrilled. He had put up with the framed prints, the obsession, the editing of the literary masterpiece and the Christmas Nutcracker tradition. However, even though he could appreciate the talent possessed by Baryshnikov it didn't stop him from coining him The Dancing Boner.
She called La Petite Soeur (LPS) and, of course, she was in and they devised a plan to surprise and treat The Mama. The Mama was living in Tennessee having been recently separated from The Daddy. She really needed a pick-me-up and a surprise was just the trick. The PYB and the LPS told The Mama to buy a new evening dress and to come down to the ATL. It was so hard to keep the secret! The build up to the big night was excruciatingly delicious.
A few days prior to The Mama's arrival the group decided that transportation would be a problem. Summer was in full tilt with the sun stuck on blistering hot, as it often is in Georgia. At that time the PYB was driving a lovely gray Mercury Lynx: no power anything, AM radio only, two doors and NO AIR. The HH had an Isuzu pick-up that would only seat two comfortably. The LPS, well, The PYB can't really remember, but she thinks the LPS had a Chevette. It was like a wind-up toy that required foot power like the Flinstones' car and that would have messed up their dress shoes. An alternative was needed and the only mode of transportation fitting for The Mama who was going to see the Dancing Boner was, naturally, a limousine. One was ordered posthaste.
The Mama arrived in Georgia and, still not knowing where she was headed, excitedly beautified herself. She was so pretty! The LPS wore a red "bubble" dress (think 1980's) and the PYB wore....a suit. Hey, they were broke back then and it was her only option. The Mama was finally told about the evening when the white limo pulled up to take the group to The Fox. It was a grand surprise and completely unexpected.
When The Mama was younger she made money by teaching ballet and later by attempting to teach college boys how to dance. She and The Daddy danced so well together and it was always a thrill to watch them when the PYB was a child. Unfortunately, the PYB did not inherit The Mama's dancing skills or rhythm (thank goodness for 80's new wave music; no dancing skills required to have fun with that). One of the PYB's earliest memories was going to see the Nutcracker with The Mama when she was about four or five years old. The Mama was elegant in her beehive and evening dress. So clearly, the ballet event on that hot night in Georgia was just the right thing to do for The Mama.
The fine looking group was dropped off in front of The Fox and they tried to look casually bored about the whole thing as they emerged from the limo....they do this every weekend...no big deal...just what do you think you're staring at?
The ballet was simply breathtaking. The PYB could hardly believe she was there seeing the mastery of The Dancing Boner. He was beautiful, graceful, commanding and masculine all at the same time. She had never seen anything so phenomenal; she teared up a lot.
Before they were ready the ballet was over. Their limo was waiting out front for the group to come out and so they put on their best bored faces and climbed back in. As the doors were shut and the driver got in he said, "Do you want to go around back behind The Fox and see if you can get any autographs?" He certainly didn't have to ask twice - damn straight! It was good to have a driver in the know. He drove around and there were plenty of other people with the same idea so the driver pulled up behind another limo and they began to wait.
Since it was getting hot in the limo they rolled down the windows. People turned to look - who's in the limo?? Everyone wonders that. Shortly, a woman came over and said to The Mama,
"Are you famous? Should we know you?"
The Mama put on her most bored look and replied in her most southern-laced accent,
"Why, we ah the Tuckas of May-re-etta."
And then slowly rolled up the window. Inside the limo they hollered!
Finally, some of the ballerinas were finally coming out of the back end of the Fox. Talk about petite! The PYB wanted to take them out for a full fledged-fried-in-lard southern dinner. The crowd outside began clapping as the dancers boarded their hotel van.
No one had entered the limo in front of them. Of course, they were still waiting for the man himself, The Dancing Boner. They had noticed their driver had left the car and was talking to the driver of the black limo in front of them and the drivers were in an intense conversation. By this time the PYB crew was standing outside the car as well; she supposes the excitement of being in the limo had worn off.
Their driver called them over and said, "The limo in front of us is for the Dancing Boner and they seem to be having some difficulty; the car won't start. The driver wants to know if we can take the Dancing Boner back to his hotel."
Was he serious?? Of course, they'll take him back to the hotel and the PYB will sit in his lap! This situation is one that could ONLY happen in a dream, and in fact, it had. LPS had dreamt that the Dancing Boner had looked her straight in the eyes. So the group began to clamber back into the limo like clowns in a mini car and then the driver said, "Umm, folks, you can't ride with him."
What?
Surely, he can not be serious.
He's just teasing; he doesn't mean it.
He meant it.
Well.
Just great.
So they gathered up their purses and programs and moved out of the way. There was a pathway of people forming and suddenly the Dancing Boner was making his way through. People were cheering and clapping (standing ovation). He was so handsome with his blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. It was a surreal moment! The object of the PYB's obsession was coming closer and closer...wow, he was shorter than she imagined. Did she try to touch him, talk to him? No, she simply stood there clapping like an idiot with a what probably looked like a demonic grin on her face (she'll eat him up she loves him so). He climbed into the limo with his entourage and the driver shut the door. The PYB group was still standing by the limo and LPS was right at the door....and the window was still rolled down :)
The LPS leaned her entire torso into the car with her huge bosom and ample cleavage right there in the Dancing Boner’s face and said, “Mr. Dancing Boner, can I please have your autograph?”
He replied in his soft Russian-accented voice, “If I give one to you I must give one to all."
"But, you're in our limo!" LPS said back. With a puzzled look he proceeded to roll up the window and LPS had to quickly get her bosom and head out of there.
The PYB is quite sure if the LPS had had a sharpie in hand and pulled her neckline down and offered a boobie the Dancing Boner would have signed it. He was that kind of guy (well, aren't they all? Yes, but with the exception of Super Buff Gay Friend with Super Model Good Looks).
The limo drove away with the Dancing Boner. And the rest of the crowd cleared out quickly.
And, so, there they were. Left behind The Fox Theater...in downtown ATL...alone...wondering...will the driver really come back? It was pretty dark back there. They were literally all dressed up with no where, no way to go. Where was the Dancing Boner staying? How far away could it be? Why is it taking so long? Should they walk around to the front? Wait, what was that? They better get their money back! Oh, thank goodness, there's the car...
As they climbed back in they discovered a slew of stuff left behind by the Dancing Boner and his entourage - YAY - goodies!! Souvenirs! Flowers, some papers and...napkins? Oooo, maybe he wiped his sweaty brow with them! Hurrah - keep 'em!
You probably think that was the end of the evening; they rode home talking about the night, questioning the driver, laughing, really excited that they pulled off the grand surprise. Well, they did go home. However, the excitement was too much for LPS. She had a condition at the time; sort of like having the vapors, but more serious. They wound up in the emergency room for a while and after being checked out the LPS was released. She just needed to take it easy.
That's what a Dancing Boner can do to a girl.
The Hunky Husband was less than thrilled. He had put up with the framed prints, the obsession, the editing of the literary masterpiece and the Christmas Nutcracker tradition. However, even though he could appreciate the talent possessed by Baryshnikov it didn't stop him from coining him The Dancing Boner.
 | |||||
| Yes, this was one of her posters. |
 | |
| Просто великолепный - this one was on her wall, too. |
A few days prior to The Mama's arrival the group decided that transportation would be a problem. Summer was in full tilt with the sun stuck on blistering hot, as it often is in Georgia. At that time the PYB was driving a lovely gray Mercury Lynx: no power anything, AM radio only, two doors and NO AIR. The HH had an Isuzu pick-up that would only seat two comfortably. The LPS, well, The PYB can't really remember, but she thinks the LPS had a Chevette. It was like a wind-up toy that required foot power like the Flinstones' car and that would have messed up their dress shoes. An alternative was needed and the only mode of transportation fitting for The Mama who was going to see the Dancing Boner was, naturally, a limousine. One was ordered posthaste.
 |
| Not a "night-at-the-ballet" car. |
The Mama arrived in Georgia and, still not knowing where she was headed, excitedly beautified herself. She was so pretty! The LPS wore a red "bubble" dress (think 1980's) and the PYB wore....a suit. Hey, they were broke back then and it was her only option. The Mama was finally told about the evening when the white limo pulled up to take the group to The Fox. It was a grand surprise and completely unexpected.
 |
| The Mama, LPS and the driver. |
When The Mama was younger she made money by teaching ballet and later by attempting to teach college boys how to dance. She and The Daddy danced so well together and it was always a thrill to watch them when the PYB was a child. Unfortunately, the PYB did not inherit The Mama's dancing skills or rhythm (thank goodness for 80's new wave music; no dancing skills required to have fun with that). One of the PYB's earliest memories was going to see the Nutcracker with The Mama when she was about four or five years old. The Mama was elegant in her beehive and evening dress. So clearly, the ballet event on that hot night in Georgia was just the right thing to do for The Mama.
The fine looking group was dropped off in front of The Fox and they tried to look casually bored about the whole thing as they emerged from the limo....they do this every weekend...no big deal...just what do you think you're staring at?
Before they were ready the ballet was over. Their limo was waiting out front for the group to come out and so they put on their best bored faces and climbed back in. As the doors were shut and the driver got in he said, "Do you want to go around back behind The Fox and see if you can get any autographs?" He certainly didn't have to ask twice - damn straight! It was good to have a driver in the know. He drove around and there were plenty of other people with the same idea so the driver pulled up behind another limo and they began to wait.
Since it was getting hot in the limo they rolled down the windows. People turned to look - who's in the limo?? Everyone wonders that. Shortly, a woman came over and said to The Mama,
"Are you famous? Should we know you?"
The Mama put on her most bored look and replied in her most southern-laced accent,
"Why, we ah the Tuckas of May-re-etta."
And then slowly rolled up the window. Inside the limo they hollered!
 |
| The Big Chicken in Marietta, GA ("you go to the Big Chicken and then turn....) |
No one had entered the limo in front of them. Of course, they were still waiting for the man himself, The Dancing Boner. They had noticed their driver had left the car and was talking to the driver of the black limo in front of them and the drivers were in an intense conversation. By this time the PYB crew was standing outside the car as well; she supposes the excitement of being in the limo had worn off.
Their driver called them over and said, "The limo in front of us is for the Dancing Boner and they seem to be having some difficulty; the car won't start. The driver wants to know if we can take the Dancing Boner back to his hotel."
Was he serious?? Of course, they'll take him back to the hotel and the PYB will sit in his lap! This situation is one that could ONLY happen in a dream, and in fact, it had. LPS had dreamt that the Dancing Boner had looked her straight in the eyes. So the group began to clamber back into the limo like clowns in a mini car and then the driver said, "Umm, folks, you can't ride with him."
What?
Surely, he can not be serious.
He's just teasing; he doesn't mean it.
He meant it.
Well.
Just great.
 |
| The Dancing Boner with Twyla Tharp |
So they gathered up their purses and programs and moved out of the way. There was a pathway of people forming and suddenly the Dancing Boner was making his way through. People were cheering and clapping (standing ovation). He was so handsome with his blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. It was a surreal moment! The object of the PYB's obsession was coming closer and closer...wow, he was shorter than she imagined. Did she try to touch him, talk to him? No, she simply stood there clapping like an idiot with a what probably looked like a demonic grin on her face (she'll eat him up she loves him so). He climbed into the limo with his entourage and the driver shut the door. The PYB group was still standing by the limo and LPS was right at the door....and the window was still rolled down :)
The LPS leaned her entire torso into the car with her huge bosom and ample cleavage right there in the Dancing Boner’s face and said, “Mr. Dancing Boner, can I please have your autograph?”
He replied in his soft Russian-accented voice, “If I give one to you I must give one to all."
"But, you're in our limo!" LPS said back. With a puzzled look he proceeded to roll up the window and LPS had to quickly get her bosom and head out of there.
The PYB is quite sure if the LPS had had a sharpie in hand and pulled her neckline down and offered a boobie the Dancing Boner would have signed it. He was that kind of guy (well, aren't they all? Yes, but with the exception of Super Buff Gay Friend with Super Model Good Looks).
The limo drove away with the Dancing Boner. And the rest of the crowd cleared out quickly.
And, so, there they were. Left behind The Fox Theater...in downtown ATL...alone...wondering...will the driver really come back? It was pretty dark back there. They were literally all dressed up with no where, no way to go. Where was the Dancing Boner staying? How far away could it be? Why is it taking so long? Should they walk around to the front? Wait, what was that? They better get their money back! Oh, thank goodness, there's the car...
As they climbed back in they discovered a slew of stuff left behind by the Dancing Boner and his entourage - YAY - goodies!! Souvenirs! Flowers, some papers and...napkins? Oooo, maybe he wiped his sweaty brow with them! Hurrah - keep 'em!
 | ||
| The spoils! (LPS) |
 |
| The HH and The Mama |
That's what a Dancing Boner can do to a girl.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Today In the Life of the PYB, August 9, 2010
6:15am: Got up; fixed lunch for Petite Jeune Fille Brunette, got PJFB out of bed.
8:00am: Took PJFB to school and went in herself to hopefully get the PJFB's school schedule worked out. SHE WAS IGNORED! "Fill out the form" she was told by the harassed school receptionist. So she did. If the schedule could not be worked out (for the 3rd time) the PJFB was going to be withdrawn. Some frustration on many levels in many areas was leading up to that drastic decision. The PYB requested the counselor phone her about the schedule. She was not hopeful.
9:00am: Went to the bank for some cash. Came home to find the older PJFB up (!). She had been called in early for her illustrious job at Dairy Queen and needed a ride.
10:15: Took PJFB#1 to the DQ. Went to Publix and saved $132 in coupons and in-store savings. The PYB was anxious about the high school situation and grocery shopping was her soothing balm. Was hot the whole time while in the store.
11:00: Received call from high school counselor, who sounded very tired, while in Publix. The PYB was on her best behavior and together worked out the kinks in the PJFB#2's and all was well in the high school world. The last thing the PYB wanted to do to her daughter was take her out of her school during her junior year. The PYB still has the devastating, emotional scars from when it happened to her...alright maybe time has healed them a bit...no sense in being overly dramatic. Wait. No, still there.
12:30: Came back home, put groceries away, made a beautiful salad for lunch and promptly dropped it on the floor. Was even more hot. Changed back into nightgown.
2:00: Put clothes back on and went back to bank. Got checks. Drove to water company to pay bill and then back to DQ to pick up PJFB#1 and took her to the dentist. Hot again.
4:00: Took PJFB#1 back to DQ to finish her double shift. Drove back home. PJFB was home from school and happy that she was not going to be a private school student, home school student, or GA Virtual Classroom student. Had some time to cool off.
4:30ish: Talked to BBH on phone and they started a new business - details to come.
6:00: Got back in the car and took PJFB#2 to soccer practice - 1.5 hrs away.
7:30: Arrived at Bethesda Park. Walked the trail. Was really hot. Started writing new PYB story (this is not it).
9:15: Drove back to the other side of the world, stopped at Wendy's for the PJFB#2 (great dinner) and swung by DQ to pick up PJFB#1 who was finally finished with work.
10:45: HOME! Hot, tired. In line for shower.
12:30: Anticipated bedtime.
The was to be the day the PYB was to recover from her massive head cold, an official sick day off work. She now needs a sick day for her sick day. But good things happened, so not a bad day at all.
11:42: Shower free - she must run!
Bon soir, ses amis!
8:00am: Took PJFB to school and went in herself to hopefully get the PJFB's school schedule worked out. SHE WAS IGNORED! "Fill out the form" she was told by the harassed school receptionist. So she did. If the schedule could not be worked out (for the 3rd time) the PJFB was going to be withdrawn. Some frustration on many levels in many areas was leading up to that drastic decision. The PYB requested the counselor phone her about the schedule. She was not hopeful.
9:00am: Went to the bank for some cash. Came home to find the older PJFB up (!). She had been called in early for her illustrious job at Dairy Queen and needed a ride.
10:15: Took PJFB#1 to the DQ. Went to Publix and saved $132 in coupons and in-store savings. The PYB was anxious about the high school situation and grocery shopping was her soothing balm. Was hot the whole time while in the store.
11:00: Received call from high school counselor, who sounded very tired, while in Publix. The PYB was on her best behavior and together worked out the kinks in the PJFB#2's and all was well in the high school world. The last thing the PYB wanted to do to her daughter was take her out of her school during her junior year. The PYB still has the devastating, emotional scars from when it happened to her...alright maybe time has healed them a bit...no sense in being overly dramatic. Wait. No, still there.
12:30: Came back home, put groceries away, made a beautiful salad for lunch and promptly dropped it on the floor. Was even more hot. Changed back into nightgown.
2:00: Put clothes back on and went back to bank. Got checks. Drove to water company to pay bill and then back to DQ to pick up PJFB#1 and took her to the dentist. Hot again.
4:00: Took PJFB#1 back to DQ to finish her double shift. Drove back home. PJFB was home from school and happy that she was not going to be a private school student, home school student, or GA Virtual Classroom student. Had some time to cool off.
4:30ish: Talked to BBH on phone and they started a new business - details to come.
6:00: Got back in the car and took PJFB#2 to soccer practice - 1.5 hrs away.
7:30: Arrived at Bethesda Park. Walked the trail. Was really hot. Started writing new PYB story (this is not it).
9:15: Drove back to the other side of the world, stopped at Wendy's for the PJFB#2 (great dinner) and swung by DQ to pick up PJFB#1 who was finally finished with work.
10:45: HOME! Hot, tired. In line for shower.
12:30: Anticipated bedtime.
The was to be the day the PYB was to recover from her massive head cold, an official sick day off work. She now needs a sick day for her sick day. But good things happened, so not a bad day at all.
11:42: Shower free - she must run!
Bon soir, ses amis!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Petite Young Blonde and the B52's
The Concert review for Saturday, July 24, 2010: The B52's - 5 Shades of Blonde out of 5!
As hard as it is to believe, the PYB has never been to a B52's concert until last night. Neither had the Petite Jeune Fille Brunette or the HH, so this was a real treat! The PJFB wore her new vintage 1940's dress and with her new haircut she was looking like quite the doll. The other PJFB had to work, and the PYB couldn't convince her that seeing the B52's was worth quitting her job. Now, if you follow the PYB on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/The-Petite-Young-Blonde/377211762234?ref=ts), you'll know she had messed up her lower back a few days early, from sneezing for crying out loud, so she was a little bummed out and was afraid she wouldn't be able to enjoy the show like she wanted to. She had been looking forward to a high energy night of dancing for such a long time! Muscle spasm meds and Icy-Hot to the rescue...
 |
| La Petite Jeune Fille Brunette |
The B52's show was at an outdoor venue in Peachtree City, GA called The Fred (so appropriate). One would wonder "why have an outdoor concert at the end of July in Georgia?" Add several thousand people, no breeze (except for the ones made by the paper fans given out), the B52's live and you have a recipe for a HOT night!
 |
| In the sun |
 |
| In the shade |
The Fred is the perfect place for a show. It's a small amphitheater with reserved, table and lawn seating. She isn't sure how many the place can hold, but for those of you familiar with Chastain it's about half the size so just about every seat is a good one. What's even better, the concert goer is allowed to bring in their own food and drink (no bottles or glass containers, please). Signs say cameras aren't allowed, but that didn't stop anyone, including the PYB, from bringing one in. No one was checking bags or coolers. They did ask that the attendees to fill out a survey indicating who they'd like to see at The Fred and, of course, the PYB requested her true love Elvis Costello (sheloveshim). If you live in Peachtree City you can always drive your golf cart to the venue! Check it out at http://www.amphitheater.org/.
As always it's fun to check out the crowd when you are in one. The first observation of the PYB was, "Damn, these people are old!" That's all she'll say about that. A few rows down a fella brought in five boys ranging in age of about 8-10 years old. His t-shirt read, "Good Dad." Irony? He told them that the B52's would definitely "get your toes tappin'," but the young boys were more interested in dueling with the paper fans. There were also guys in feather boas, painted hair and giant sunglasses, but what really made the PYB jealous were the two ladies with their bouffants on. She so wished her hair was long enough for an updo or that it's wasn't so hot so that she could have worn her electric blue pageboy hair.
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| Bouffants coming through! Step aside! |
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| Good Dad's boys dueling |
The warm-up band, not that things weren't hot enough, was Supercluster from Athens and the PYB thoroughly enjoyed them. It was a very diverse group of musicians. However, the she had waited long enough and was as hot as she was going to get in spite of the ice-cold margaritas so she was ready to hear some B52's!
Ah and finally! The moment she'd been waiting for! The stage was still dark and suddenly Fred sings, "What's that on your head?" And the crowd went wild, PYB included. She loves the Wig song! She tried not to sing along, but it was so hard not to - nobody wants to hear that. Keith, Fred, Cindy and Kate were in top form and the PJFB exclaimed, "It sounds just like them!" Give her a break - the only other concert she's been to was Elvis Costello's a few years ago (sheloveshim). And the dancing ensued! The B52's were spot on and full of energy. The band was brilliant. Some of the songs in the set included "Mesopotamia," "Love Shack," "Dead Beat Club," "Roam," "Private Idaho," "Give Me Back My Man," several from FunPlex and for the encore "Planet Claire," and "Rock Lobster." Of course, it was over before anyone wanted it to be.
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| Ladies and Gentlemen, The B52's! |
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| Love it! |
Kate and Cindy were simply gorgeous and Fred...the PYB so loves Fred! Their sound is like none other. What an amazing life the four of them must be having - their love for music definitely translates in their performance. To her knowledge, the PYB has never heard any other band quite like them; they put the fun in funky. The PYB solemnly swears that she will never, ever miss an opportunity to see the B52's ever again - unless it's the same night as an Elvis Costello show (sheloveshim). If they were to be at the same venue on the same day it's a good possibility the PYB would implode.
Moral of this story: See the B52's, dance, be happy.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Introducing the TBF of the PYB
The Petite Young Blonde would like to introduce you to the TBF (Token Black Friend). The PYB loves her dearly and forever thanks her for allowing the reprint of this email the TBF sent to her friend.
First, you need to know some background. The TBF has been working with a trainer who will now be called BHT (Beautiful Hot Trainer) for about five months and she looks FABULOUS! TBF is single and looking for a husband. BHT is single and cooks. Why these two don’t hook up the PYB can’t fathom. TBF says she needs him as a trainer and doesn’t want to mess that up. Mess it up already – there are plenty of trainers out there!
So here’s the TBF sending an SOS to her BFF:
First... this is for YOUR eyes only! This is NOT to be discussed with husbands, fathers, brothers, friends, ANYONE.... got it?!?!?!
The workout today was tough - mostly b/c I was not in a good mood. My attitude completely stinks - not sure why - but trying to move through it. I was so not feeling anything BHT said to me today - I didn't want to run (really didn't want to run), didn't want to do any of the S--T he comes up with that tortures my body and causes excruciating pain for the next couple of days... but.... I tried to do what I could and kept my mouth shut.
As expected, he went crazy with the workout and it culminated with me on the floor in a ball - flat on my back ready to cry like a baby until I felt better. I was just about to work up a good tear - a real fat one - when I looked up and who was hovering above me - straddling me no less - but.... BHT... in all his glory. He then proceeded to grab my legs and tell me how good I'd done - all the while straddling me. Now, I'm sure he said more - cause he was up there for quite some time, but I have NO CLUE what was said b/c... HE WAS STRADDLING ME. Now BFF, you know I try to be a good Christian - daily try to keep my mind and my actions in line with God's wishes... but today - June 25, 2010 - I had a bit of trouble.
So, I'll journal this to you, BFF - hoping to remove the mental and physical image that was so beautifully positioned over me this morning. We will pray that I will be able to continue to LOOK and not TOUCH. :-)
Moral of this story (TBF): You have step out of your comfort zone and catch the wave that might change your life.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Petite Young Blonde and Car Pool Boy
One afternoon while doing her reception job the PYB received a call:
PYB: Good afternoon. Thank you for calling XYZ, this is the PYB. How may I help you.
Unknown Caller: Do you live in Paulding? I need a ride.
PYB: Excuse me?
UC: I live in Paulding and my car pool isn't running today; can you give me a ride?
PYB: Ahh....what's your name?? And exactly how did you find the PYB?
Sidebar - The PYB does a have a few faults. One is being naively trusting. When somebody needs help she tries her best to assist even if it's not in her best interest...such as this case. Yes, stupid, she knows! She did have the forethought to inform her coworkers what she was doing in case the guy turned out to be a psycho killer and murdered while she was driving.
That is how the Petite Young Blonde met Car Pool Boy.
During that ride he flapped his jaws the entire time and the PYB discovered the following from just sitting back and driving. CPB was married with four children and hated his job. He was a severe right-winged Republican and he didn't appear to like people of color. He didn't live too far off from the PYB so it was okay, but she didn't want to make a habit of it.
The PYB cherishes her car time; it's her precious alone, de-compress hour from the day time hassles; she listens to the latest book on tape from the library; more importantly it's her one-on-one time with Elvis Costello (sheloveshim) on her iPod. Usually other riders don't want to listen, not only to EC (sheloveshim), but the PYB singing out loud to EC (sheloveshim). She didn't think it'd happen again any way. Who wants to ride shot-gun in a 1984 Mercury Grand Marquis with no air conditioning, AM radio and cracked leather seats (the PYB called her Old Gold)?
About three glorious ride-alone months later the PYB received another call from CPB and this time he needed a more permanent riding situation four days a week. Oh, and could she start that afternoon?? Ugh. Really? Crap. Stupidly, the PYB agreed, but told herself she'd give it a month's trial. So begins the PYB/CPB relationship that lasted all of two v e r y l o n g months.
The first week went okay except that the PYB was getting the Petite Jeune Fille Brunette to soccer practice later than the PJFB preferred. Her team runs two miles prior to practice and she would end up having to run by herself which is never fun. The "stimulating" conversation was of the usual get-to-know-you polite kind of talk: kids, family, hobbies, work, etc. He met his wife at church when they were students and she's English so she moved here permanently to the US. The PYB found this was pretty sweet until she heard him talk to her on the phone. Lots of impatience and borderline disgust. She was always asking where he was and what time he thought the PYB would get him home. CPB's wife was at home with 3 little girls under the age of five and a newborn...yep, she wanted him home asap alright.
Car Pool One-Sided Discussions by Car Pool Boy - Topic: Geese
One morning The Petite Young Blonde had to slam on Old Gold's brakes to avoid hitting a squirrel. She will avoid running over an animal at all costs bar driving off the road or crashing the car.
CPB: I don't stop for animals.
PYB: What??
CPB: If they're too stupid not to get out of the way I just hit them. Once I hit three geese that were crossing the road so I stopped and put them in my trunk (yes, apparently he owned a car once) and took them home. I tossed them onto the kitchen counter and told my wife she could cook them up. She told me to get them out of her kitchen; she was really mad at me.
PYB: She was completely silent - what do you say to something so ignorant?)
CPB: Yeah, she wasn't very happy. When I was in another car pool I saw a dead duck so when I got home I drove back and got it. My wife wouldn't touch that one either.
PYB: (Really? What a shock! She just cannot imagine why.
What an idiot.)
CPB: And if a cat runs out I don't slow down - I speed up.
PYB: (Hey, CPB - how about you get out of the car and run across the road and see if I can hit you? Old Gold still has some pick up. What an a-hole.)
Another Car Pool One-Sided Discussions by Car Pool Boy - Topic: Politics
The PYB does not discuss politics or religion with many people unless they have been friends for at least 10 years or more. Just one of her rules to live by. Both are extremely volatile subjects. She has her views and others have theirs. Changing an other's opinion on either are slim to none so why bother?
At the time of the one-sided car pool with CPB McCain and Obama were in a heated race for the Presidency. No big surprise that CPB was an extreme right-wing conservative. As you may have guessed the Petite Young Blonde is not. Every morning CPB would expound on his political opinions including the fact he didn't think a black man should represent America as the President of the United States. What rock did he crawl out from under?? He went as far as suggesting Mr. Obama was the anti-Christ. The PYB was beginning to think CPB was a charter member of that Westboro Baptist Church who pickets against gays, Obama and at military funerals. Well, that pretty much sealed the deal....that boy had to go.
But that wasn't the only reason why.
But that wasn't the only reason why.
CPB never helped pay for gas. Ever. He'd plead no money, blah, blah, blah, girls are expensive, the van needs repair, blah, blah, blah. He was probably sending his car pool money to Westboro. Well, listen dude the PYB's paycheck was cut by 15% and insurance premiums were up. The situation was a total win for him - no driving involved, no money involved, no wear and tear on his car involved. The PYB was getting PJFB to soccer late, she had to listen to his self-righteous speeches and most of all she had given up her sanctuary. Her patience was wearing thin.
One morning she woke up without her voice. Yep, laryngitis and she could not utter a word if she wanted to - her family rejoiced. So she picked up CPB, dropped him off and when she arrived at her desk she decided she could not take it any longer. She opened up her email and started typing:
Dear CPB,
The PYB can no longer stand to sit in the same car as you. You are a male chauvinist creeper and don't smell good. The PYB feels sorry for your wife and think she should cut her losses and flee the country with her children. You bring roadkill home for supper and don't mind running over animals for that purpose. AND you think that's ok! In addition, you are a closed-minded, self-important pompous mooch who thinks the mere color of a person's skin should exclude a person from the Presidency. Car Pool Boy you are hereby excluded from the Old Gold Kennesaw Express. The definition of a car pool is taking turns OR sharing expenses neither of which you have ever offered to do. You have taken advantage of the PYB and you are outta here! Go find someone else to annoy.
Sincerely, The PYB
Alright, she really didn't send that email, but she wanted to. In the end she wrote, "This is not working out. Today is the last day." The PYB blames her politeness on her mother. The last ride home was pretty silent. She was frustrated for allowing herself to have been taken advantage of and not speaking her mind. The only thing he contributed in the two v e r y l o n g months was a new route to Kennesaw that didn't include incredible amount of traffic.
However, although it was extremely passive aggressive, the PYB did relish in the satisfaction that all throughout the two v e r y l o n g months of the car pool CPB never realized he was riding in a car with Obama stickers across the back bumper.
Yes, that really makes her smile to this day.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Travel/Hotel follow-up
Ok, so the Super 8 in Columbus, GA did have an underlying scent of old cigarette smoke, tacky bedspreads and a retro TV; HOWEVER, it DID have a microwave, fridge, windows that opened and free internet service. It was $57. Take THAT $200/night Hyatt!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Some of The Petite Young Blonde’s Thoughts on Travel
Hello from the PYB! She is currently visiting Washington, DC for a work conference and this has spurned some thoughts and ideas on various levels about traveling.
Leaving on a Trip
After taking so many traveling soccer trips and family vacations the PYB has identified female responsibilities and male responsibilities in preparing to depart. All you single moms/dads do it all and the PYB’s vintage hat is off to you because it’s hard enough just to do one part (see Memory).
Female:
v Finish the laundry
v Pack the suitcases (self and children’s when younger)
v Lock all windows/doors
v Clean the cat poopers (the HH does this, too)
v Turn off the coffee pot & unplug appliances
v Water the plants
v Gather food for the ride and hotel
v Fill water bottles
v Make sure children’s schedules are covered if going away for business (rides to school, lunches, after-school activities/care, any doctor appointments, play-dates, etc).
v House is in some kind of decent order (however – remember that a clean house is the sign of a wasted life….)
v Arrange animal care or in the case of cats make sure they have enough food & water
v Take out trash
v Print out directions (and hope Mapquest or Maps.Yahoo actually have it right)
v Make sure kids have enough car/vacation activities packed – games, cards, books, movies, homework, etc.
Male:
v Fill up the car
v Pack suitcase
v Load the car
v Cut the grass if going away for more than a weekend
Hmmm, seems a bit off kilter doesn’t it? She is NOT saying this is the case all the time or for anyone else, OR that it’s unfair…it’s just the way it is.
The PYB loves being a traveling (soccer) mom.
Memory
Although she doesn’t travel alone a lot she does travel fairly often and mostly to soccer tournaments in the Southeast U.S. It never fails something is always left at home. The PYB and her Petite Soeur used to have a handmade jewelry company and once she left a box of jewelry when going to a show! When she and the Petite Jeune Fille Brunette drove to Ohio for her father-in-law’s funeral she arrived without her clothes. Upon arriving at the ATL airport she realized left the company check for the hotel….
Lists you say? Doesn’t matter. She usually can’t locate the list after it’s been written anyway.
The PYB forgot what she wanted to say.
Lost
She is directionally challenged and it’s obviously a defective gene that runs in the family – her Petite Soeur is inflicted as well. It might be something that skips a generation, however. Their parents didn’t seem to have it, and she isn’t sure about the grandparents – they didn't travel more than a 50 mile radius of their homes in Oklahoma that often. It’s obvious the Premier Petite Jeune Fille Brunette does not have this defective gene, as she is able to travel across the world without issue. All right, perhaps she can’t blame it on a bad gene after all.
Again, when the PYB and her Petite Soeur were selling their jewelry they were consistently getting lost. Having step-by-step directions aren’t always enough either. Knowing left from right has been proven to be a good skill to have of which the PYB is sorely lacking and having to give split second directional instructions can prove to be problematic. Once the Petite Soeur was using her OnStar service to help her get home and the operator ended up calling her husband to let him know they couldn’t help her…yes, it’s that bad.
The PYB doesn’t travel alone that often and it makes her kind of anxious. That’s why she double-checks everything. So upon arriving in Washington this week she pulled out her hotel info to find out where to catch the shuttle and found that the hotel was by the Ronald Reagan Airport. Her ticket said DCA. A momentary panic set in and then just plain disgust. Had she not verified all of this when scheduling her ticket and hotel??
Just. Great.
She only had so much cash provided by her employer for traveling expenses and now she’ll have to hire a cab to take her to the hotel. The subway/metro was an option but she’d definitely get herself lost on that and did not want to be wandering around the station with her suitcase and computer looking oh, so much like the lost out-of-towner she obviously was. Where’s the damn information desk?
The PYB is so sick of being lost.
Hotels
Can anyone please explain to the PYB why the more expensive a hotel costs the less amenities it has available? For example, for $200 a night the Hyatt Crystal City has a killer bed – very comfy – with no less than eight, yes, eight pillows. The “complimentary” bathroom products have exotic fragrances like White Ginger and Sugary Citrus. And the lighting, very soft and romantic. However, where’s the microwave? Where’s the mini-fridge? How about the free continental breakfast? How about movie channels or Disney (she really doesn’t need 5 cable news channels or 4 ESPN options)? And. where. in the name. of all that is. good and holy. is the free Wifi?!!?? Are you serious? $200 a night and the hotel still wants $10 per 24 hours of internet use? That’s just plain tacky. At least the Hyatt has in room coffee the Sofetel in Chicago didn’t even have that. Oh, and the thin walls…not gonna discuss that.
The PYB is used to soccer tournament hotels. The cheap ones with mostly uncomfortable mattresses, a way to store and zap food, Suave shampoo & conditioner, three movie channels and Disney, and COFFEE. That’s what she’s used to and happy with. So she would gladly trade 2 pillows for a coffee pot and four pillows for the freaking internet so she can get her Facebook fix for the day and maybe even check email.
The PYB wants her wifi.
Maid Service
The PYB thinks that when staying in a hotel the “inner teenager” comes out and most of humanity reverts to being a total slob. Yes, the PYB includes herself in this esteemed group. There’s just something about dropping a towel on the floor, leaving it there, and not worrying about the tile being damp, or puddles forming outside the tub. As for making the bed…well, she doesn’t even do that at home.
Hotel maids really do have a thankless job. They have to deal with most unspeakable situations and filth. Pizza fell facedown on the floor – oh, well. Clumps of mud from the soccer field coming off the cleats in the room and being ground into the rug– oh, well. Hotels at the beach during spring break – oh, well. Because of hotel-induced slovenliness most guests are hoping that the room will get serviced while they’re out to breakfast. That way the maid won’t be able to put a face with the pig inside – the humiliation! Which is why the PYB will clean up the spills, drips and dirt; but she draws the line at making the bed.
The PYB does not like to feel humiliated.
Lost Part 2
Found the information desk…good news and big relief: DCA is Ronald Reagan Airport – hurrah! But that’s about as much info the Info Desk Guys could give me. After all, The PYB did interrupt them from reading their newspapers. One would assume they would have information about where to pick up hotel shuttle and since they had a phone one would assume they would offer to make an informational phone call to the hotel since they didn’t know.
The PYB was not impressed.
Hotels Part 2
If you are reading this it’s because the PYB broke down and spent $10 for the damn T-Mobile Hot Zone or Spot or whatever it’s called, because that’s just how much she loves you; her family and friends.
And the PYB will not be ignored – wifi or no wifi.
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Toy Story always strikes a cord because what kid doesn't think their toys come to life when they leave the room?
As always the toys stick together and support one another no matter what and they are about to be split up because Andy, their boy, is off to college.
Some new toys are introduced and Ken almost steals the show, but then comes Spanish speaking Buzz Lightyear- he's so suave!
She won't give anything away, BUT do stay for the rolling credits....it'll give you time for your tears to dry if you forget to bring Kleenex....yes, this is story will choke you up and will require at least five tissues, if not more. Had she had been watching the movie at home, the PYB would have boo-hooed like a baby with large, racking sobs. However, she somewhat kept her composure and kept the dripping to a minimum.
One last thing: The PYB is forever sorry for throwing out McDonaldland toys....she just didn't know!