My dh’s 20th Class Reunion festivities kick off tomorrow night with a reception before the homecoming game and then on Saturday night, there’s  a big dinner.  I missed my 10 year reunion due to a conference and I missed his 10 year reunion due to a conference, so this will be the first time I have ever been to a reunion of any sort.  (My 20 year isn’t for another couple of years.)

Any advice?  What should I expect?  Have you always gone to your reunions or have you skipped them?  Frankly, I’ve kept up with the people I wanted to keep up with after high school, so I don’t feel any pressing need to attend my own, but…

I took my whine to the Soapbox Queens Today!  Click on over and see why I’ve compared myself to Angelina Jolie.

Done!

The book is finished.  (Until revisions, but…

If I weren’t so tired I would do this. 

I have decided that, in the interest of preserving my sanity, I need a bigger office.

Increasing the square footage at Casa de Rhonda is not a viable option at the moment.  In addition to the Lack O Funds in order to finance such an endeavor, there’s the whole issue of a seven-lane highway which will be making its way EXTREMELY close to our house in a few years and adding on, when we’re not sure what our plans are at the moment, wouldn’t be a good idea.

I’ve mentioned in the past that we have a nice outbuilding out in the back–brick like our house and already wired–which we’re planning on making into a gameroom for our kids.  I can’t in good conscience take their game room.  We already have two smaller vinyl buildings that my husband has stored all of his stuff–riding lawn mower, chair saw, pressure washer, nail guns and various other things which need a dry home.  I’m considering buying another building–a nice one with a porch and a loft and windows, and having my brother wire and finish it out.  This would be my space.  My office.  I could have more than one small bookshelf and all the boxes that are stored under my desk in the current closet, er office, could be properly put away.  I’d buy hanging baskets and a rocking chair and call it “The Wordwam.”  (Kids didn’t get it because, through some gaping hole in their education, they’ve never heard of a wigwam.)  Anyway, that’s another post.

So.  I’m explaining all of this to my daughter and she’s appalled.

“Momma, if you put another little building back here, we’re gonna have a whole other neighborhood goin’ on!”

It’s true.  Even I realize that four outbuildings is too many.  (DH’s will have to go.)

My son, on the other hand, quickly jumps on board.  “Hey, I want my own outbuilding, too!  We can make little paths to each other’s houses.”  He smiled wickedly, imagining.  “Wouldn’t that be cool?”

Interestingly, I agree with both of them.

So what do you think?  Help me decide.  To outbuilding or not to outbuilding?  That is the question….  

If I leave my wet hair in a towel over night and don’t brush it, I look a bit like like …

It’s quite disturbing.

Dear Inventor of the Hairclip,

     Thank you for giving me what I have dubbed “Lazy Hair.”  Say I don’t want to go to the trouble of curling my hair.  What do I do?

     I put it in a hair clip.

     No time to wash my hair?  No worries.

     I put it in a hair clip.

     Sick to death of being hot and want my hair up off my neck.

     I put it in a hair clip.

     Too friggin’ lazy to actually style my hair, when I used to be a Hot-Roller-Aqua-Net Queen?

    You guessed it.  I put it in a hair clip.

     I don’t know whether to thank you or hunt you down and throttle you for making me such a clip-reliant junkie.

     Confused in Alabama,

     Rhonda (whose hair is in a clip now)

I happened to catch the last thirty minutes of Steele Magnolias a few nights ago and had forgotten just how much I’d enjoyed that movie.  When the dh walked into the bedroom he took one look at my tear-stained face and stopped dead in his tracts.

“What’s wrong?  Why have you been crying?”

I gestured to the TV.  “I’ve been watching Steel Magnolias.  That was such a good movie.”

Husband stares at me as though I have grown another head. “You realize it’s a movie.”

“And you realize that the baseball game you just watched is just a game, right?”

“That’s different.”

“Do you really think those ball players can hear you screaming at them?”

DH smiles.  “At least I don’t cry.”

“You’re right.”  *innocent look*  “Alabama hasn’t played Auburn yet, have they?”  

(To be fair he doesn’t really cry.  It’s more of an agonized moan of despair. )

Lots of cool things happening in Blogland today.  I’m blogging at the Plotmonkeys and fellow fab author and friend Julie Leto is blogging at the Soapbox Queens.  Click around and visit!

I think I’ve mentioned before that I oftentimes let my daughter pluck my eyebrows.  What can I say?  It’s much easier to lay on the bed and let her do it than for me to peer into the mirror and do it myself.  Anyway, we’re enjoying some sweet quality time.  I’m relaxed and happy, eyes closed just soaking in the closeness.  And then…

“You have holes on your nose.”  A thougtful pause, then “They’re filled with dirt.”

Excellent.  Just what I’ve always wanted.  Dirty pores.

Hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.  And you should probably all buy some stock in Biore.  I’m off to buy a case of pore strips….

I’m ranting at the Soapbox Queens today.  Come share a pet peeve with me.