Friday, July 31, 2009



It’s my 1st Bloggiversary!

One year ago today, I posted my very first blog post. I had no idea what I was doing. I sadly thought that my only “readers” would be my imaginary friends that deserted me when I was four years old. Much to my surprise, Wodo and Toady (said imaginary playmates-don’t be judgin, people) did not show but real life readers did.

Janie of Midlife Slices of was the first to comment on my blog (other than my next door neighbor whose arm may have been twisted). Janie was kind enough to link my blog on hers. It was that link that brought the rest in one way or another, I’m certain. Janie and I have a connection that is revealed by commenters who think we are related or confuse our husbands. I always have “some splainin” to do when someone leaves a comment about HBL (Janie’s hubby) and me. It was Janie who taught me so many bloggy tricks. I would make newbie mistakes and confess my obvious ignorance in the post. Janie was kind enough to email instructions and I would promptly go back and edit. She became my blog mentor and I was a constant pain in her arse for life the first few months. I’ve tried to pay it forward and offer my help to new bloggers wherever and whenever I can.

The funny (funny–odd, not funny-haha) thing is that the very same people who were the first to comment on my blog are still here and I’m honored to consider them treasured friends. People who don’t blog laugh at the idea that you have friends that you’ve never met in person. But special relationships develop and communities are formed. My bloggy buds are real life buds too. Our friendships have spilled over into real life. Email, telephone conversations, texting, tweeting and real life meet-ups are just a few ways that bloggyville has spilled over into SMBland. If a bloggy bud showed up at my door, they would be welcomed with open arms by my whole family (as long as they bring beer. *wink*)

The Fragrant Liar was there too. Of course she was known at that time as Nana of The Nana Diaries. Her tales of Miss America never fail to put a smile on my face. (Dang, I love that kid!) But more than that she’s a smart mouth, just like me. Now that’s a connection. Gotta love her.

Jan of the Famous Sushi Bar came over from MLS too. Jan’s quick wit and devil may care attitude captured my heart from the get-go. Not only that but we are almost positive that our mothers had to be related. Talk about a connection. Wouldn’t that be something!

Lori at My Life Interrupted, Jason from The Jason Show, Twentyfour at Heart and Midlife Mama were all there in the very beginning and they remain favorites of mine and have a very special place in my heart. Real connections.

Many have come for a visit over the last year and I’m grateful for each and every one. Some return, some move on. You don’t connect with everyone. You’re not meant to. Nevertheless I’ve found so many great blogs and bloggers that it’s difficult to keep up with all of them. But what I’ve also found here in bloggyville is something that I never expected. Real, live people with huge hearts and wonderful spirits that have become real friends. I cherish my friendships with all of you and I am forever changed. You have opened my eyes to new locales, different lifestyles and cultures. I see things through not just my own eyes but your eyes too. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t repeat in conversation something I’ve read here in your pages. We’ve connected. I hope you feel it too.

I had great hopes of doing something spectacular for my bloggiversary but when I tried to come up with a plan, I realized that what I really wanted to say most of all was:

Thank you!

from the bottom of my little pea-pickin heart.

Smart Mouth Broad

Tuesday, July 28, 2009



Have I mentioned that it’s really not a good idea to mess with my babies?

DSC02504 Just sayin’.

Smart Mouth Broad



You might remember back a few months ago when I was wishin’ and hopin’ and twistin’ and bendin’ in yogurt yoga class. I had a few questions. Braja was kind enough to enlighten me and explain as best she could to an idiot novice such as myself. There was one question that Braja didn’t answer for me though.

What makes yoga pants……”yoga pants”?

At the time I asked this question, I didn’t own a pair and was wearing the same workout wear to yoga class that I wore to workout in the gym. Uninformed and clueless as to what to look for in a great pair of yoga pants, I set off on a shopping adventure. I landed at Old Navy where I found two pair of yoga pants that appeared to be the items for which I was searching. I knew they were “yoga pants” because it said so on the tag. I took the “yoga pants” into the dressing room and tried them on. That’s when I discovered the secret.

OH.MY.HEAVENS! If you you don’t own a pair of these pants, stop what you’re doing right now and in the name of all that is downward dog and sun salutations, go to the store and buy yourself a pair of these comfy, cozy, pieces of fabric sewn into the most heavenly item of clothing you will step into. Shhhhh. Can you hear the angels singing?

It wasn’t long after the purchase of the lovely yoga pants that I discovered pilates and yoga went out with the baby and the bathwater. I loved pilates. So now my “yoga pants” became “pilates pants”. The problem was that my work schedule was preventing me to get to the classes that I wanted to attend. That’s when the fam stepped up with the wii wii for Mother’s Day and now I can yoga to my heart’s content and then some.

Working out in the comfort and seclusion of your own home requires no special attire. I exercise in whatever suits my fancy. I soon found myself slipping into my “yoga pilates pants just to lounge around the house.

We had a little birthday party at my house for my brother-in-law, BrainBuckets. I was still in my work clothes when it was time to have cake. Just before the cake was served, I realized I couldn’t take my slacks one more second. And that’s when I discovered the true purpose of my favorite cozy pants. No more would I refer to these lovelies as “yoga pants”. I would no longer call them “pilates pants”. I excused myself to change into my CAKE PANTS!

These are the pants that you slip on when you’re going to eat cake. You know that feeling on Thanksgiving Day when you have to undo that top button on your pants or your skirt. Totally not necessary with “CAKE PANTS”! yoga-pant-65

Everyone should have at least two pair. (You wouldn’t want to be caught in a cake situation and have your only pair of CAKE PANTS in the laundry, right?)

If you haven’t discovered CAKE PANTS, go NOW and get yourself two pair. You will thank me. Life and cake as you know it will never be the same.

**Of course you realize that I don’t eat cake now that the South Beach Diet has wormed its evil ways into my lifestyle. I may not eat cake but I damn sure wear my CAKE PANTS and dream about red velvet yumminess with cream cheese frosting any time I please.***


Sunday, July 26, 2009


I’m a rule maker and a rule breaker. For most of my life, I’ve followed the rules. I’m a people pleaser. I don’t like to disappoint. I like to have a clear conscience when I lay my head on that most uncomfortable pillow in the world at night. As I’ve gotten older (and we ALL know I’m getting older) I tend to bend, twist, jiggle and downright disregard the rules if they don’t suit me. And sometimes, I like to make them up. These are but a few of the rules with which I was raised and still follow or I made up on my own.

1. Never eat more than two cookies at one time. However cookie dough may be eaten by the bowls.

2. Never give a wallet or a handbag as a gift without money in it (even if it’s just a penny). It’s bad luck.

3. Always smile and wave hello to someone passing by on your street. Friendly is better.

4. Always take at least a bite of birthday cake when offered. To do otherwise is like unwishing a happy birthday.

5. A dill pickle must be served with a grilled cheese. It is the law. I have mentioned this one here before but it bears repeating.

6. Never cheat at cards, board games, love or life.

7. Never lie. Omitting the truth is a viable option. Lying about one’s age, real hair color or your weight is an acceptable exception to the rule.

8. Never touch Mommy’s stash of dark chocolate hidden way back in the freezer.

9. If Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. And if Daddy ain’t happy, ain’t nobody cares.

10. Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.

What are your rules?

Smart Mouth Broad

Saturday, July 25, 2009

MY VIRTUAL VACATION – Courtesy of The Saint

I received a text message from my friend, The Saint, last Monday. (If you’re new here, you can check out my MAKING OF A BIKER CHICK posts in my sidebar and get to know her and the Biker Nazi better.) The message read:

Wish you were here.

The Saint

I quickly replied, “Me too. Where is here?” I assumed that she wasn’t at work or she wouldn’t be wishing I was there. I WAS at work so I was wishing to be ANYWHERE else.

She replied with, “South Dakota.”

I asked who she was with. She told me, “The Biker Nazi.”

Just the BN, I asked? She confirmed. I told her she was either very brave or crazy. She told me that he was already threatening to send her home. And she was leaning toward crazy over brave.

Well, what the ……? No one discussed this trip with me! Where was my invitation? Apparently I’ve opened my smart mouth once too often and have been voted off the island. Did I wish I was there? You bet your sweet bippy whatever that is I did! Of course the truth is that had we been invited, we wouldn’t have been able to go but still… I pouted. The BN and TS were having fun and I wasn’t. How could that be fair?

I had my 3 second pity party and was over it. I asked her to send me a picture a day so I would feel like I was there with them. And because we did this trip with them two years ago, it almost feels like I am there as I receive the photos.

The photos look great on my phone but they are a little grainy now that I’ve sent them to my computer. Even so, they are beautiful! Allow me to share:

Mount Rushmore Mount Rushmore is one of my favorites! The history of this whole area is so interesting.

Cody Museum I guess without me there, they probably didn’t risk being asked to leave this time.

Cody Museum Kent

Awwww, look! The Biker Nazi made a friend.

Looks like they have a lot in common!

BearTooth PassLook at the snow at the top of BearTooth Pass! In JULY!

Glacier Park MT This is Glacier Park, Montana. We didn’t make it this far on our trip two years ago. It was on the agenda but we ran out of time.


Smart Mouth Broad

Friday, July 24, 2009



My very first post to this blog almost a year ago was all about how I had been to my girly doc and she was very rude kind enough to inform me that I am at that age when I need to have a primary care physician to manage my healthcare.   *It might help to read it first.  Go ahead.  I’ll wait.*  I work for a doctor and while she is a breast surgeon, she can and does prescribe antibiotics or other meds when the need arises.  Why waste your time with doctor appointments and forms and copays when you have your own personal physician right in your back yard ………….uh…er…or in the back office as the case may be.

It took me almost a year to get over the shock of being told that I’m “at that age when…” because I’m a bit of a drama queen but I finally got around to choosing a PCP to manage my care.  Oddly enough, the referral came from a biker friend I met at the gym.  My new doctor is his girlfriend.  We’ll call her Dr. LuLu.  I liked Dr. LuLu instantly the moment I met her.  And when she discovered that I was Smart Mouth Broad, BF’s friend from the gym, she was almost as excited to meet me as I was her.  We hugged and chatted about how much we had heard about each other.  It was a very different experience from any medical appointment to which I’d ever been.  Then  it was back to the task at hand.

Dr. LuLu began with the results of my bloodwork that had been drawn the previous week.  She dropped little phrases about “being at that age when”  and I could feel my teeth start to grind.  She proceeded to tell me that my sugar is high, my thyroid is low, my cholesterol is OK but my triglycerides are high.  I got an A+ in liver functions but my white blood cell count is high which means there is inflammation somewhere in my body.  She asked me if I had a portable home blood pressure cuff because my bp is  a little high.  Uh NO!  I’m not that old!  Then she told me that I was at high risk for heart disease as my bloodwork shows 25.2 on a blood level that anything over 3 is high risk.  I’m pretty sure it’s a typo or I’m about to drop dead any minute

My head was spinning.  She must have noticed that glassy eyed stare I get when I’m overwhelmed with news I don’t want to hear because she switched from her all-business medicalese tone to a more comforting, nurturing tone like you use when talking down a wounded wild animal.  She said, “I know this is a lot to take in but the good news is that we can work on all of it.”  And she was a little too cheerful about it, if you ask me.

I said, “You know, when I walked in here I thought I was basically a very healthy woman.”  as I curled into a fetal position on the exam table.

She smiled and said, “Well, you know you’re almost fifty.” 

That is SO NOT TRUE!  I’m not even forty-nine.  What the hell is she talking about!  I don’t think Dr. LuLu and I can still be friends.  And I had such high hopes too.  I thought we could maybe ride the Harleys to dinner sometime.  Not now.  I can see that she is an excellent physician but no friend tells you that you’re almost fifty when clearly you are NOT! 

So the plan goes like this:

  • Stick with the South Beach Diet because it is great for keeping your blood sugar stable.  (What do you know?  I was doing something right!  Yay! Me!)
  • Start taking fish oil.
  • Start taking folic acid.
  • Have an ultrasound of my thyroid and as long as it’s negative, start thyroid meds. (and possibly find it easier to lose weight.  Yay, again!)
  • Take a water pill for the pitting edema I get cyclically.  (Like I don’t already spend enough time in the ladies room, “powdering my nose.”
  • Monitor my blood pressure twice daily, log it and turn it in for homework at my next visit. 
  • There could be more that I may have forgotten.
  • Drink lots of beer……….or vodka PRN.
  • Spend all your days at the beach
  • Eat Dark Chocolate

OK, so those last three I threw in just to see if you were paying attention.  They pertain to “my plan” not “the plan”.

So it’s taken me almost a year but I finally figured out the end of that sentence.  I was in denial.  I was clearly blocking it before.   But now there’s no escape. 

I’m at that age when ………………………….things EFFIN START TO FALL APART!  FML

Smart Mouth Broad

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

THE STORY OF US – High School Sweethearts…….or not


You might think that after our little adventure that landed us in “jail” that my parents wouldn’t allow me to spend time with a scoundrel such as My Harley Stud. Or that his parents wouldn’t want him seeing a girl that landed him in the “pokey”. Fortunately for us, neither set held a grudge and both held their own child completely responsible for their own bad behavior. As it should be.

But that was middle school stuff. As we moved on into our high school years, we were much smarter and didn’t get caught more mature. MHS and I dated off and on all throughout high school. Really more off than on. We both dated other people but there was always a strong connection that couldn’t be denied and we remained friends when we weren’t dating. But sometimes when I would see MHS while I was on a date with another boy, I would drop my date’s hand so as not to appear too into him. And other times I would pretend to be even more into my companion than I really was just to see if MHS would be jealous. Years later, MHS confessed to doing the same thing when he saw me.

MHS had one girlfriend with the same first name as mine. I know……..another Smart Mouth Broad. Hard to believe. The other SMB (as if) was a year older than he is. I am a year younger. I remember thinking how cool he was when he told me that he was sending her 18 red roses for her 18th birthday even though I hated the bitch. Everyone knows that you only send roses by the dozen unless it’s a significant number for a special occasion. (or so I was taught by my US History teacher who sent dozens of roses to Jane Pauley in a lame attempt to gain her attention. – Sucker!)

Another girlfriend was on the gymnastics team with me. We were chatting one day while taking a break or should I say I was being interrogated on all I knew about MHS. I mentioned that I thought he was quite a romantic and illustrated my point with the 18 roses for the 18th birthday story…………………..How was I supposed to know that he had done the same for her 18th birthday? He doesn’t tell me EVERYTHING! PS. My eighteenth birthday……………….no roses.

Dating or just friends, MHS was always there for me. One spring I was riding with two girlfriends when we met up with their boyfriends on motorcycles. Next thing I knew they were on the back of the bikes and throwing me the keys to the car. It was a Datsun B210. A stick shift. I didn’t know how to drive a stick. I yelled this little piece of information to them as they pulled away and I was told, “Live and learn.”

Somehow I made it to the QuikMart where I found MHS. He took me out to the country roads and taught me how to drive a manual transmission. To this very day, I’ve never met a gear shift I couldn’t handle.

The summer before my sophomore year, I was with my cousin in her car. We were doing a little harmless flirting on the CB radio when we were rear-ended at a stoplight (the only one in town) by her boyfriend who was listening in his mom’s car. Again, I was abandoned while she went off with him to fight it out. I was instructed to drive around until she came back. While I did have my learners permit that allowed me to drive with her in the car, I didn’t have a drivers license. Hours went by and still no sight of her. I couldn’t go home because we would both be in trouble that I was driving her car. I couldn’t go to her house or she would be in big trouble. That was when I ran into MHS and the Biker Nazi who were out running off some “bad pizza” before they went home. (Bad pizza was MHS’s excuse for getting sick from teenage drinking)

MHS ditched the Biker Nazi in favor of keeping company with the damsel in distress. He passed out almost as soon as he got in the car but it’s the thought that counts. At least he didn’t get sick.

It’s always an adventure with MHS too. One winter he and the Biker Nazi took the Saint and I sledding…………………….behind his 4wheel drive truck. We actually wore through one of those little metal saucer sleds. But we were having way too much fun to give up. The guys put their heads together and came up with a plan. We went back to MHS’s house and he took the hood off his little brother’s car and VOILA – a sled for two! Don’t try this at home. We’re professionals, you know. We wore helmets. And we only ended up being thrown into a corn field once or twice.

It wasn’t until the summer before my senior year that we finally got together for good. But that is a story for another day.

Catch up on prior episodes:

The Story of Us

The Story of Us – Arrested Development

** Note**

Always save your work. *wink*

Smart Mouth Broad

Tuesday, July 21, 2009



I can barely breathe.  I want to cry.  I can’t believe I could do something so stupid! 

I had a very hectic day at work.  I came home and worked out (aka MHS made me do really heavy manual labor) building sweat equity in our home while Daughter #2 made dinner.  After dinner, I sat down to write Part 3 of The Story of US.  Once completed, I did my final edits and was clicking back and forth to do the linking when I escaped from my writer without saving. 


A beautifully written *cough, cough* very long story of how our romance developed thru our high school years.  You would have loved it.  It would have warmed the cockles of your heart.  (What are cockles, anyway?)

Please excuse me  while I go off into a closet to scream really bad words.  Where is my damn gun?

Please leave comments offering sympathy……….and tea……and vodka……..and chocolate…………and toast……..and a new kitchen.  That would make me feel better.

Sunday, July 19, 2009




Change can be scary and it can be exciting.  Things are changing around SMBland.   Nothing too earth shattering, mind you, but changes just the same.

While Daughter #1 was in San Diego visiting An Officer and a Gentleman, I took advantage of the Food Nazi’s absence and made an executive decision.  We sh*tcanned the DAMN ZONE diet and went back to the South Beach Diet.  She has been compliant with my food plan since her return, albeit begrudgingly.  I was just about to tell you not to mention that to her because she is still a little sensitive about the subject when she came into the room to tell me she is happy with the meal plan.  I in all my gloatiness for my brilliant decision proceeded to tell her that I was just writing about that very topic and how I thought she was a little touchy about it still.  She immediately turned on me made a face and rescinded her compliment.  When will I learn to just say “thanks” and leave it at that?

For what it’s worth, our new way of eating is working.  I think it’s safe to say that the whole family feels better in general.  Those of us (read: me) who need to lose are losing.  I don’t think I’ll be a size 6 by reunion time but I’ll at least be closer to it.  The important thing is that I believe we’ve found a way that we can eat healthy for life (with occasional splurges) and that’s what I wanted instead of a temporary diet change that never works in the long run.

One change I didn’t think I would ever be able to make was to give up sweet tea.  I am a Yankee by birth but my stomach is a real Southerner.  I’ve seen fit to give up fried food, cornbread (except the occasional splurge) and pecan toffee tassies all in the name of good nutrition but the one thing I couldn’t kick was my sweet tea habit.  It’s like crack to me.  I’ve tried making it with a sugar substitute. ICK!  *Side note:  I enjoy it with no sweetener at all if the tea is really good but I MUCH prefer good ole Southern sweet tea!*  But this week, D1 came home from Publix with their own sugar free iced tea.  OMG!  I’m in heaven.  I didn’t think it was possible but it’s not only good, it’s great. 

Yet another change:  I’m not really much of a soda drinker but lately I have this uncanny craving for diet Dr. Pepper.  Somebody explain that to me, please.

Wii Wii alternates daily between insulting me with a Wii age of 45 and encouraging me with a Wii age of 28.  Talk about changes.  Sheesh!  Oh and I continue to be OBESE and UNBALANCED.  Have I mentioned that I hate the Damn Wii Wii!


Oh and one more thing: 

I’m approaching my one year blogiversary.  Are there any rituals I should know about?  Sacrifices to be made?  Parties to plan?  I’m completely clueless, not to mention a real slacker.  Let me know if there’s something I should be doing.  And in case it’s something I don’t want to do, let me know the penalty also……Just sayin. 

And one more thing:

This blogiversary is a good time to reflect and analyze the past year and all that’s been written here.  What are your thoughts?  Do you come here for the nonsense or real information.  YES.I.DO. occasionally provide useful information to you.  Remember it was me who taught you about tiny yellow bags and wasted tax dollars.   What would YOU like to see more of in the coming year? 

Smart Mouth Broad

Saturday, July 18, 2009



An American icon has gone to his final rest.  

I am thankful for his service to us, his honesty, his integrity, his gift for true journalism.  When I think of a news anchor, it is his face and voice that comes to mind.

Rest in peace, dear man.

Friday, July 17, 2009


Friday’s here and I have a lot to accomplish in the next three days. So instead of boring you to tears with the usual nonsense you find here, I’m sending you off to Mrs. K’s site to enter in her giveaway.

I get an extra entry for blogging about it here, you know. You don’t really have to go there or anything because this sounds like a miracle product and I want to win and I really don’t want the competition. So, let’s just pretend I didn’t really tell you. But shhhhh, don’t tell Mrs. K because she might disqualify me for being rude cheating for being obnoxious. Bwahahahaha! Evil, yes, I am.

If you never hear from again, please call MHS and tell him to look under the piles in the hallway.

Yes, it’s an exciting life I lead, I tell ya.

Smart Mouth Broad

Wednesday, July 15, 2009



Daddy likes to tell a story about taking me fishing when I was about 3 years old.

Clever man that he is, he devised a plan where he could look after me while Mommy was at work and still knock out a few hours at one of his favorite past-times, fishing. Off we went to the dam (That’s dam, not damn. I’m not cursing again. Geesh) with tackle box and poles in tow.

Once Daddy found the perfect spot for us to fish, he set me up with a pole of my own. It was a cane pole with no line and no hook. Just a pole. Daddy busied himself with casting his line into the water while I sat contentedly with my pole. I was three. I didn’t know any better. I was fishing.

After awhile a man approached and set up his fishing gear near our spot. I was sitting between Daddy and this new arrival. He sat down and cast his line into the water. Every once in awhile he would look over at me and smile.

Fishing can be a little boring and eventually the man struck up a conversation with me. Daddy taught me that a good fisher(wo)man is quiet but I couldn’t resist the temptation to make a new friend. We chatted a bit and then he said, “You know you’re never going to catch any fish like that. You don’t even have a line in the water.”

After careful consideration of his observation, I replied, “I’m catching as many as you are.”

…….and so it was, a Smart Mouth Broad was born.

Smart Mouth Broad

Tuesday, July 14, 2009



Once upon a time, I was known for my pure heart. I rarely cursed out loud and never before 4pm. I never told lies because my face gives me away and I never had more than 10 items in the express lane at the supermarket.

I have been known to make a return trip to a store if I discovered that I had not been charged for an item. My nickname at my previous employment was Mary Martha because they said I was Martha Stewart and Mary Sunshine all wrapped up in one person and they didn’t mean it as a complement. If we had a particularly difficult client issue, they would say, “Send in Mary-Martha. Nobody gets mad at her.” What can I say, I’m a people pleaser, people. I’m not comfortable offending people. And I’m hard to offend.

Then I began to blog. Suddenly the words that had always been perfectly content to reside only in my brain were spilling out onto the pages. I swear like a drunken sailor in my head but those bad words used to only come out verbally if I dropped something on my foot or you beat me in a card game. WTF and FML have become common place in my instant messaging. My daughters want to know who I am and what I’ve done with their mother.

There’s a trickle down effect at play here. I have a NO CURSING policy in my office. I have a point system like NASCAR. The front desk girl is a native New Yorker. Shhhhh, they don’t like it when you stereotype but those people take cursing to a whole new level. I’m always taking away her points. But the system is flawed. It’s hard to enforce such rules when the head honcho (Dr. Boobiologist, also a New Yorker) hangs up the phone and says, “Effin B*tch!” (Only she doesn’t say “effin” if you get my drift.) Of course she is usually referring to some medical director of an insurance company who won’t approve a diagnostic test. No points deducted for that. Totally justifiable cursage. But I digress.

I now find myself in the embarrassing position of having my own points being deducted as my blogging language is seeping into my work life. Leadership by example has gone to hell in a hand basket. And my kids no longer believe that I would never cheat them in Monopoly because they no longer believe that I am pure of heart. And that’s CRAP! I’m still a goody two-shoes. I am still pure of heart. I’m still a nice girl. I swear! So what!

And sometimes I may or may not mis-count the items in my cart when I enter the express lane at the grocery. And if that girl at TJMaxx misses ringing that pair of socks, it wouldn’t be right to jeopardize her job by pointing out her mistakes, right? Oh and that 4pm rule? We’ve moved that back to noon. That’s respectable, right?

And it all started with a blog.

Smart Mouth Broad

Saturday, July 11, 2009



Whenever life gets to be too much, I head to the beach. My weekend beach walks have fallen to the wayside recently as my schedule gets tighter and tighter. I’ve been longing to get back there. The whole family went today. It was great.

First we stopped at our favorite bagel place for a late breakfast. Bagels are most definitely NOT on the DAMN ZONE and NOT on the South Beach Diet (to which I’m trying to convert D1) either. But OH, they were so good.

Being a wise woman who wants to take care of her skin, I was careful to cover my entire body with sunscreen before I left the house. I use a special sunscreen on my face that is made just for faces.

We weren’t walking long before I was per-sweating and the sunscreen began to run into my eyes. I couldn’t see. My eyes were burning. I was miserable and lagging way behind the others. My Harley Stud, ever the gentleman, offered his t-shirt to wipe my face. That helped for a few minutes. Eventually, I slipped off my shorts to use as a face towel and strutted in just my swimsuit. Not a pretty site but desperate times call for desperate measures. Next time, I’ll remember to bring that great straw hat the girls bought and skip the facial sunscreen. OUCH!

After walking about a half mile, we came upon a huge crowd. This particular beach is not usually too crowded so we were a little surprised. As we got closer we saw that it was a surfing event. It was high tide and the surf was just right for surfers. DSC04071 We don’t get the great surfing waves in Florida like Pseudo gets in Hawaii or 24 gets in California but the surfers don’t seem to mind.

My eyes were still burning at this point and I couldn’t see the subject of my shots very well but we did see some very cute little boys and girls being coached by mom and dad on how to ride the perfect wave.

Do they still say “hang ten”?


Look at this little cutie trying out her board.


Daugher #1 put us all on a mission. She wants to find the perfect shell to make a necklace.


MHS isn’t quite sure that this shell passes inspection.


The girls compare their finds.

And then……………..I got the look.

DSC04082You know the one? The one that says: “Seriously? Do you have to blog about every single second of our lives?”

The answer: Not every second but just the really good ones like this. *smirk*

DSC04085This woman had the right idea. Next week I’m bringing a book and a chair. I might walk too but I’m definitely going to read. I might even get that library book finished.

Where do you go to escape when life gets to be too much?

Smart Mouth Broad

Friday, July 10, 2009



Too much to do. Too much to do! What ever happened to the lazy, hazy days of summer? I may have mentioned this before but there’s a line in a Martina McBride song that says, “Every morning when I drink my coffee, I can’t believe my life has turned out this way.” I can relate.

I know that I’m blessed and there are so many that are so much less fortunate than I am but how the hell did I get to this place where every single second of my life is spoken for and even then I need extra days in the week just to catch up? I shouldn’t even be here.

Pleeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzz, tell me I’m not alone. And better yet……got a solution?

Smart Mouth Broad

Wednesday, July 8, 2009



Some of you may not have been reading here long enough to have ever read a Lucy story so allow me to introduce you: Lucy was my mother. Her real name was not Lucy but Lucille Ball is about the best description I can give you of my very goofy mother. She was smart, beautiful, generous and kind but she took goofy to a whole new level and it was what we all loved best about her.

Our toy poodle, Gidget, had puppies when I was in the third grade. Gidget was a registered toy but she was much bigger. Thank goodness too because she ended up having six puppies.

I came home from school surprised to find Lucy at home. She would normally be at work at that time. I walked into her bedroom and found her aiding Gidget with the delivery of our new puppies. Now what seven year old girl isn’t going to want to see, play with and hold new puppies? Lucy knew that but she wasn’t really interested in my assistance. What she really wanted was to get me out of the house as Gidget was not faring well with the delivery and the puppies just kept coming.

As previously mentioned, Lucy was smart. Instead of ordering me outside to play (which never would have worked), she enlisted me in her mission. She issued my orders clearly and precisely.

“Get on your bike and ride uptown to the hardware store to get me a cork. This darn dog won’t stop having puppies and I need to put a cork in to stop her.”

Now, you know that I didn’t just walk in, buy the cork and leave. Nooooooo. I was way too excited for that. I had to tell the owner and all the employees there that I was on a very special mission. I needed a cork to stop my dog from having puppies. There were already too many, you see.

Yeah, they’re still laughing about it.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009


I am hanging my head in shame. A few of my very good bloggy buddies have bestowed awards on me and I’ve procrastinated so long about posting them that I believe they have expired. I am so NOT worthy. If you have given me an award in the last month or so and I haven’t posted about it, please forgive me. Let’s chalk it up to my being an idiot lame undeserving forgetful.

Today, I received an award from my bloggy friend, Funny Girl at Funny Girl Goes Blog. She is a real sweetheart to honor me with this award that I clearly do not deserve. (see above) And I figured that I better post it ASAP before I forget my name where I live all about it. Without further ado, allow me to present:


The Love My Friends Award is given to those bloggers who aspire, inspire, and share the most beautiful of human attributes; art, wisdom and friendship. Deliver this to eight friends who must deliver it eight more. (I think that Funny Girl may have gotten me confused with another blogger but Shhhhhh, if we are very quiet she might not realize it and I can place this purdy thing on my mantle and claim it like it’s my own.)

Along with forgetfulness, I am also not very good at following instructions. I’m going to try really hard this time though. *scout’s honor*

Somebody, remind me to come back to the instructions later…….

Before we worry about that, I’ve been tagged with a fun little MeMe, meme. (I still don’t know how to say that……Where is Thistle? She was so informative about this sort of thing? And she loved herself a good mem………….whatever)

My new buddy, Donna over at Carnwath’s Corner has tagged me with the Crazy Eights Meme. I’ve done this one before I think but I will try to come up with some new material or I might just copy what I did last time and you’ll never know.

Eight Things I Am Looking Forward To:
1.going to Virginia.
2. having cookouts.
3. taking the boat out.
4. go fishing.
5. painting my bathrooms
6. the winter, to have the fireplace going days off from work

OK, all the above were Donna’s answers but they were really good. I’ve never been to Virginia. I would like to see it. Now where’s my boat?

OK, I promise not to cheat again………………………..really.

Eight Things I Did Yesterday:
1. Conversed in Spanish even tho I don’t speak Spanish.
2. laundry. I’m always doing laundry.
3. Went out to dinner at our favorite haunt and had the best server EVER…..Daughter #2.
4. Lost a bet to another server and paid up. A deal’s a deal.
5. Watched the Cubbies lead in the first few innings against the Braves. Anybody know how it ended?

6. Blogged.

7. Tweeted
8. Yesterday was a long time ago. I’m surprised that I came up with 7.

Eight Things I Wish I Could Do:
1. Sing like Carrie Underwood.
2. Go on a really LONG vacation.
3. Remodel my kitchen myself. (I’m sure I could do it if someone would just show me how.)
4. Build a tiki hut on our patio. (You know, with my new remodeling skills – see #3)
5. Travel………………….everywhere. So many destinations, so little time. (see # 2)
6. Tap dance like Gregory Hines.
7. Wear a size 6.
8. Remember everyone at my high school reunion next month.

Eight Shows I Watch On TV:
1. Royal Pains
2. The Mentalist
3. Leverage
4. Brothers and Sisters
5. Army Wives
6. In Plain Sight
7. How I met Your Mother
8. Big Bang Theory

OK, now I’m supposed to tag 8 bloggers for this meme. But since I can’t really follow directions exactly, I’m going to combine the Friendship Award and the meme. The following bloggers get both. (You can show your appreciation with chocolate chip cookies)

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you………………………………………the WINNERS!

1. tera at Olive Hue Designs

2. Oz Girl @ City Girl Moves to Oz

3. Nothing Fancy

4. Linda (pretending to be Joe) at My Quality Time

5. Only a Movie (She’ll have lots to list when she gets back from “hiking”

6. Sharon at Dances with God

7. Deb at Views from Deb’s Porch

8. Mrs K who is my new hero because she can curse like a drunken sailor in English and Spanish.

Thanks again to Donna and Funny Girl. You guys ROCK!

By the way, from now on……………I’m blogging with wine instead of whine. It goes down much more smoothly………….much smoother…………….smooth…….hmm?…..EASIER.

Monday, July 6, 2009



If you’ve been a reader here long, you know that I don’t normally discuss my work. I think it’s a bit dangerous. No one at my office knows about this blog. I’d like to keep it that way. But there are days when the frustration bubbles so close to the surface that if I don’t do something to vent it, I just might explode!

A tisket, a tasket, Smart Mouth’s about to blow a gasket!

See what I mean? I’m delirious.

The above photograph is not me. It is not my desk. But it is a really good representation of my office. I’m buried in the weeds and there’s not a weed-eater in sight. I can deal with the piles. It’s dealing with the people that’s giving me a hard time. I’m the office manager for what we affectionately refer to as a Boobiologist. (A breast surgeon) And before you get all excited about having a contact in the implant/reduction field, we’re not that kind of booby practice. We deal with breast cancer. Not exactly a funny topic and yet there are days when you have to laugh or you will cry. These are just a few of the things that have been said to me recently.

“I need to see the doctor and I need to see her as soon as possible.” Appointment is given. “I can’t come on that day, my horse is having her teeth cleaned.” You might think I’m joking. I work in a polo community. People take their horses very seriously around these here parts. But when it comes to a possible breast cancer diagnosis, let me just say, PEOPLE! Drop everything. Just go to the doctor. Geesh.

Equine dental appointments are not the only thing for which people will postpone their own breast health. I’ve also heard: cable guy is coming, luncheon date, manicure, pedicure, hair appointment, bridge game, mah-jong, bingo, bunko, and I’ve got to work.

As you can see, I’ve heard it all. The one I hear most often is “I’ve got to work.” Let me be the first to air this PSA: If you ARE diagnosed with breast cancer, this is just the FIRST of MANY medical appointments in your future. While I completely understand that we all have a responsibility to our jobs, you won’t be much good to your employer if you don’t get your priorities in order……..if you get my drift.

I know that most of my readers are women. And women seem to be the biggest problem with schedules. We are all booked solid! Next time, you have to make an appointment to see a specialist because of some abnormal imaging, just take the next available appointment. You can’t all be seen at the beginning or the end of the day. NONE of my doctors make this concession for me. And I don’t expect them to.

I’ve gone off on this topic a little more than I really intended here but instead of deleting, I’m leaving it and allowing you a view from the other side of the desk. But I should point out that we see people at the absolute worst time in their lives. I understand this and stress it to my staff on a daily basis. It is our job to smile and be supportive even when they are being less than pleasant, unreasonable, irrational and insane. Most are true sweethearts and we embrace them all as family. But just like a real family, there are days when they just bug the crap out of you.

As the office manager, I don’t normally have too much interaction with patients unless they have financial difficulties, insurance questions or special needs. However, due to maternity leaves and vacations, I’ve had more than my share recently. And I gotta tell ya, I like it much better back in my cave with my mountains of paperwork because PEOPLE.ARE.CRAZY!

I got a call last week from a woman who had received her bill and had a question.

“SMB, line 1 with a question about a bill.”

I answer by stating my name and asking how I can assist the person on the other end of the line. This is what I heard, “I got this bill in the mail. Do I have to pay this?” Seriously? And by the way…….it was $29.46.

I’ve had people call about bills less than $50 saying that if they had known they had to pay “that much”, they wouldn’t have had the biopsy. Excuse me? Your peace of mind to know that you don’t have a cancer diagnosis isn’t worth your $50 copay? Or worth that diagnosis that tells you that you do have a malignancy but now you can do something about it? Don’t forget that I live in the land of milk and honey and most of these people spend more than $5o a month at Starbucks.

I should also point out here that I'm a soft touch. If you are struggling financially, I will accept payments of $1/month for the duration but DON'T tell me that what we do isn't of value.

Our medical assistant is on vacation this week. She is the only Spanish speaker in the office. Well, except me. I’m fluent in cuban food and Spanglish. I can mangle the Spanish language like nobody’s business. But I digress.

A woman called today and proceeded to speak to me in Spanish. In Spanish, I told her that I was sorry but I do not speak Spanish and “D” is not here. (I don’t know how to say, “on vacation” so I just said “not here”.) But apparently I’ve gotten that phrase down so well, she didn’t believe that I’m not fluent in her language so she continued to speak to me in Spanish. I repeated my spiel. She told me (in Spanish) that she would call back tomorrow. I have since learned how to say “D no esta aqui pour uno semana.” I’m armed and ready for her call tomorrow. (And no, I probably didn’t spell those words correctly, but if you speak Spanish, you should get the gist.)

Thanks for letting me vent here. (If anyone is still out there…………….hello?) I love my job and we do good things there. And I believe we take exceptional care of all of our patients. In this economy, I’m just grateful that I even have a job. Most of our patients make it easy. But there are those few that just crawl under my skin.

I have a sign in my office that I believe says it better than I ever could:

Everyone brings joy to this office. Some when they come in and some when they go out.

Thanks for listening.

Sooooooooooo, how was your day?



We had a wonderful time at Lolly’s on the 4th. I’ve been a lazy daisy today and haven’t uploaded the photos to my computer yet but I’ll have them in a day or two.

While writing my Independence Day post, I was reminded of a 4th of July a few years ago.

We were visiting Mom and Daddy at the lake. Daughter #1 wasn’t with us and Daughter #2 had brought along a friend. The kids really wanted to see some fireworks so we inquired where the closest place would be. Mom made a few phone calls and then with precise directions in hand (Mom was the best at giving directions to anywhere) we were off to Micanopy.

Have you ever seen the movie, Doc Hollywood with Michael J. Fox? If you’re not familiar with Micanopy, it was the location for that movie. It’s a beautiful little old Florida town. We parked a few blocks from the park where the fireworks were being presented. We carried our lawn chairs and were happy to find a place right up front at the fence of the baseball diamond.

My Harley Stud immediately commented that if we were able to sit “that close” to the actual display, how explosive could they be? He’s a smart cookie, that MHS, I tell ya.

Just as we settled into our chairs, and brought out some snacks, a truck backed into the spot right behind us. It will filled with kids. They all piled out of the truck and into the bed and settled in for the big show.

The sun finally set and before long we witnessed the first pop. Not a BOOM, mind you. More like a pop. We smiled remembering what MHS had said earlier. The show continued. It wasn’t very exciting. There wasn’t much to ooooo and ahhhhh about and no music. But we laughed and enjoyed ourselves as we made fun of these very lame fireworks. (If you are from Micanopy or the surrounding areas, please don’t be offended. I love your town but seriously, I’ve seen bigger displays put out by the kids across the street.)

With each pop and spark, we laughed ourselves silly as it became one of those situations where it was so ridiculous that you had to laugh. But there was a another situation developing in our midst that was hard to ignore.

A little boy in the back of the pickup sitting directly behind us was not happy with the show. With each explosion (and I use the term loosely) he would cry out. It went something like this:


“Oh God, can’t we just go hoooooooome!”


“I can’t take it!”


“I waaaannnnt to go hooooooommme!”


“Oh Gawwwwwwwwwwwwwd!”

It became quite comical to us and we couldn’t help ourselves but to laugh even more when you added the sound effects show in the background to the “Fireworks Lite” in the foreground. Finally we had just about as much fun for one night as we could take. We agreed to skip the “grand finale” and go buy some sparklers at the 7-11 and head back to the lake.

As we gathered up our bags and the chairs, we heard this:


“Oh Gawwwwwwd. I just want to go hooooooommmmme. Why can’t we go hoooooommmmme?” And then accusingly: “THEY’RE GOING HOOOOMMMME! Why can’t we just go hooooooommmmme? “


“Oh Gawwwwwwd!”

If you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend taking a trip to the historical town of Micanopy. It has the cutest ice cream shop and wonderful antique stores. There is a bed and breakfast there where we once witnessed a military wedding ceremony on the lawn. It was one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve ever experienced.

Just skip the fireworks. *wink*

***Note to the little boy and his parents***

We apologize for our insensitivity to your discomfort. It couldn’t have been an easy night for any of you. We feel really badly that we couldn’t stop giggling. It was just so darn funny.

Well……it WAS!

Saturday, July 4, 2009




I love the 4th of July! Is there any American for whom this day doesn’t invoke memories of your childhood. The wonder of it all! Fireworks are such a mystery to me. Don’t blow it for me by explaining them either. I like the mystery.

When I was a kid, we would trek to the next town (ours didn’t have fireworks), park the car a million miles away from the park, walk said million miles to search for the perfect location which was preferably on the big hill and plant ourselves there on a blanket for the duration. I loved how I could feel the big booms inside my chest. I loved to hear all the OOOOOs and AHHHHHHS muttered by every.single.person.there.

Later as an adult, I was disappointed that the OOOOOOOS and AHHHHHHs of my youth didn’t carry over. It seemed we had lost the wonder. Oh sure, people still flocked to fireworks displays on the 4th but we didn’t seem to be as mesmerized by it all as we used to be. Or was it just me? And then……..they put them to music.

The first time I watched a fireworks display set to music was at Walt Disney World. And nobody does it better. I was suddenly 7 years old again as I sat there mouthing WOW over and over again. That was it for me. The ONLY way to watch fireworks is to have them set to music.

The Mouse House isn’t the only one who knows how to put on a great show. Our local baseball stadium is the Spring training home to the Marlins and the St. Louis Cardinals. We also have minor league games there all summer. Every Friday home game has fireworks……………….to music. It’s great. Sometimes MHS and I will go there during the last innings just to see the fireworks.

Tonight we are going to our dear friends, Lolly and company’s, annual 4th of July party. We will watch the fireworks that are just over the golf course from their patio. You might remember my friend, Lolly, from our annual Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party Adventures. Lolly feels the same about fireworks as I do. She’ll set them to her own music. I just got a call from Lolly who said she didn’t know what the fireworks would be like this year with all the cut-backs. And then she said in true Lolly-fashion, “It doesn’t matter though because we have sparklers.” No doubt, a good time will be had by all.

My family and I are very proud to be Americans. We cherish our freedom and independence and we are very grateful for all those who have sacrificed to give it to us.

From all of us to all of you,

Happy Independence Day!

Big Hugs, SMB

Thursday, July 2, 2009


Even if you’re not a country fan, you should be able to appreciate this song. It’s what goes thru my head when I’m having trouble coping. (And that, my dears, happens way more often than I’d like to admit.)

Title: Don't Worry 'Bout A Thing
Artist: Shedaisy

Ever been misunderstood, misused, or misled
Ever knocked on the sky
and had it fall on your head
well, don't worry 'bout it, don't worry
Ever lost your luggage, your marbles,
your house
Or found yourself in bed with Uncle Sam or Mickey Mouse
Ever been accused of murder on Music Row
Or caught in morning traffic when you
really gotta go - Oh no!
Life is funny, life's a mess
Sometimes a curse, sometimes a blessing
Don't worry 'bout a thing, don't worry 'bout it
Life gets sticky, life can bruise
Sometimes you win sometimes your losing
No matter what it brings
Don't worry 'bout a thing
Ever sat yourself down when the
seat is all wet
Or see your "ex" sucking face with
a little brunette
Don't worry 'bout it, no don't worry
Ever lost your religion, ever lost your
best friend
Or found your last record in the bargain bin
Or been stuck in a divorce like crazy glue
Or scraped someone else's gum off the
bottom of your shoe - Boo hoo!
[Repeat Chorus]
(Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah - Blah, Blah,
Blah, Blah, Blah, - Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah,
Don't worry, don't worry
We all got a little junk in the trunk
And when you're feelin' good as sunk
Remember, everything will be just fine
If I laugh at yours then you'll laugh at mine
[Repeat Chorus 2x]
(Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah - Blah, Blah,
Blah, Blah, Blah, - Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah,
Don't worry, don't worry
Life gets sticky, life can bruise
Sometimes you win sometimes your losing
No matter what it brings
Don't worry 'bout a thing
(thank you very much)