Swearing is not one of my most ladylike characteristics but I find that there are occasions that warrant some profanity. (and I'm really good at it!) "Are you f'n kidding me?!?!?" When I found out how much I owe the IRS. "Oh, sh*t!!", when I speed by a cop on the highway. "Unf'nbelievable!!" (internal dialogue, with an eye roll) when I get in the wrong line at the bank behind someone who has decided to bring in their life savings of pennies. (Really?!) I learned this skills set from the master, my mom. She was the CEO of a family with no bonuses and endless overtime so she had every right to throw out the occasional f-bomb. This, however, was a one way street which I found out at the ripe old age of ten. I was riding on my yellow Schwin ten speed (envy of the neighborhood) without using my hands (super cool) and listening to my Sony Walkman.(which was also yellow) I hit a crack, lost control and wiped out. I walked in the door, tear stained and bloody. My mom ran to me and asked "what happened?" "My f'n bike hit a crack and I wiped out." She looked at me and said, "I will clean you up and than that mouth of yours." (oh crap!) Depending on the level of offense this would dictate the amount of time we had to suck on a bar of soap. (I was usually at DEFCON 1) To ensure there was no enjoyment during this punishment she found the most heinous bar of soap ever invented. Lava, manufactured since 1893 and made for coal miners.

I've always had a fickle relationship with my Postman.  It started back during the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years.  I received my first love letter (ok, love may be a bit strong) from John E. who I had the biggest crush on. (we had met at summer camp) The letter arrived smelling of Old Spice, (nice touch) written in poor penmanship (he struggled with cursive) and filled with grammatical errors but I didn't care about any of that. (there's always room for improvement) The only thing that mattered is that John E. sent ME a "love" letter which described his paper route in explicit detail and how he was saving up to buy some Star Wars figures and something special for me. Every day I would wait on my stoop for Bob the mailman to deliver my next letter from my future Prom date. "Did I get a letter?" "Sorry, kiddo." "Are you sure?"  (he lost patience with this daily dialogue after a week) "Yes, I'm sure, maybe you should move on and find another boy." (Really?? you're giving me love advice, don't you still live with your mother??) "Ok, thanks."

Mother's Day is when my brother and I are thankful that my mom decided to keep us and not put us on the corner with a sign that said "Free, please take"  We fought all the time which drove her crazy. "Stop touching your sister!  If you can't play together nicely than go to your room!. Stop fighting! You need to share or I will take all of your toys away!"  She said this 365 days are year, 7 days a week, 24/7 and we still didn't get it. (not the brightest of bulbs) I would have walked off the job at that point, but she hung in there. (I want to thank the makers of Kool cigerettes, for calming my mom down and keeping her rational) We pushed all her buttons but she still loved us. These are a few of my favorite Momisms.
Top 8 Momisms-
1) "I'm telling your father!" (translation, she's officially lost it and now she's bringing in the heat)
2)  "Shut your mouth when you're talking to me." (not quite clear on what that meant but silence was usually a safe bet)

3) "Stop crying or I will give you something to cry about!"  (A veiled threat but impactful)
4) "Because I said so." (well, of course, that explains everything)

5)  "I'm not raising animals!" "Close the door, you don't live in a barn!" "Your room is a pig sty!" (she must of had something against farmers)
6) "Do I look like a maid?" "No, but could we get one? I'm sick of picking up my room." (I got grounded for that one)

Gigi's Getting Gorgeous- "Happily Ever After". I was up this morning with the other two billion people watching the royal nuptials. Absolutely stunning, beautiful and classy,everything we would want a Royal Wedding to be and yet intimate. (Bravo William and Kate!)

As I sat sipping coffee at 3:30 in the darkness of my kitchen, my mind wandered to my latest British Invasion which was on a recent girls weekend in Las Vegas when I realized that I'm bi-lingual after a couple of cocktails. (Who needs Rosetta Stone when I have Red bull and vodka?) We were greeted by a VIP host at Tao named Pasqual, "Bonjour, Pasqual" (all proud of myself) "Are you from Canada?" (what the hell is that suppose to mean?) "Non, je suis American." "Oh? I thought perhaps you were from Quebec, I don't speak French." "yes, me neither." "I gathered that." (shut up and get us some free drinks! Comprendo??)