Blue gal in a red state

My trip to Missouri was relatively uneventful.

Which is good when you’re driving an unfamiliar rental car on an Army base filled with Military Police just jonesing to pull you over for the slightest infraction.

In the short time I was driving on base, I saw no less than three people get pulled over so I’m happy I made it out unscathed.

Did Missouri scare me?

A little.

Their love of Donald Trump was evident.

There was a billboard proclaiming “Thank you President Trump for making America great again.”


This after his divisive statements about women of color in Congress.

It’s fine.

I survived.

I even survived an old vet telling me he loves California but “hates our politics.”

If anyone is entitled to an opinion on the matter, it’s a vet since he fought for the freedom to speak one’s mind.

One observation about Missouri:  They must really be into tattoos.

There was a tattoo parlor on nearly every corner.

No kidding.

And none of them looked like the type of establishment you’d want to frequent.

So I survived my trip to Missouri.

And barring any more Military Police training for my son and future graduations, I’ll probably never go back there.

And I’m okay with that.

Proud Mama

Honestly, I couldn’t be more proud of this young man for accomplishing all that he has accomplished in just a few short months.

I sent the Army a kid with no job or career prospects.  He stayed up playing video games every day until 6 am and slept in until 3 pm.

The Army sent me back a man who sat me down to tell me his career plans (Army recruiting and Honor Guard) and who gets up now at 8 am to go for a run before he starts his day.

Oh, and he’s going to school in the fall.

What can I say, I am one PROUD MAMA!

Blue gal in a red state

Never ever in my entire life have I dreamed of visiting Missouri.

And yet, that is exactly what I am doing this week.

Visiting Missouri.

My oldest child is graduating from Army Boot Camp at Fort Leonard Wood this week and I am there to watch him graduate and celebrate his success before heading home.

Needless to say, I am not looking forward to traveling on a plane for a day and spending one day at the graduation before heading home.

I don’t know what I am expecting.

Perhaps my little blonde head getting lost amidst a swarm of MAGA hats.

One thing is sure – we won’t be there very long.

My son has made it clear he’s ready to pack up his shit and head home as soon as he possibly can.




If you can believe it, I haven’t seen my son in person since January 1st this year and I miss him terribly.

What is my kid doing to show his appreciation for a mother who travels halfway across the country for 3 days to see him graduate Boot Camp?

He’s signed himself up for a training class.

A MOTORYCLE training class.

And if you know anything about me, you know that I am deathly afraid of motorcycles.

Thanks kid.

Like I need the added stress of worrying about his youthful ass riding a space rocket among a sea of distracted drivers.

Happy graduation indeed.

Do me proud

It seems like only yesterday my oldest son was sleeping peacefully in his crib, wearing footie pajamas.

But clearly more time has passed because last week, THIS happened. . .

That’s right, my oldest son Duncan graduated high school as part of the Class of 2017.

It was a real eye opener for me.

The time has clearly flown by. I thought I had forever to raise this little baby into a man and now I blink and he’s turned into someone I’m proud to call my son.

Hard to believe.

It makes me want to go up to parents of young children and tell them, “Cherish this time. It goes by SO FAST.”

Unlike some parents, I do not feel the slightest bit of reluctance to see my baby fly the nest.

Instead, I feel like flinging my arms open wide and urging him to “Go! Spread your wings!”

In other words, “PAY YOUR BILLS!”

Yes folks, I kinda feel happy to pass all those bills from me to him – the telephone, the car insurance, the lunch money, etc.

Maybe I’d feel differently if I had a daughter.

Maybe I’d feel more protective.

I literally handed my son $500 and two boxes of condoms and said, “Adios love bug! Do me proud.”

Say uncle…

MichelleI spent last Saturday at my cousin’s graduation party.

He graduated with a degree in Kinesiology which I think means he will go into physical therapy.

I personally hope he becomes a physical therapist for the 49ers so he can get us into the stadium and onto the turf.

One can dream…

In any case, what was notable about the afternoon was that my uncle was there.

And even though he’s my uncle, he’s not really my “uncle” if you catch my drift.

Well, he followed me around for the better part of the day telling me all the stuff he wanted to do to me.


Oh no, I got a fucking earful from him.

After a while, I got pretty tired of it and I told him to stop, but since he thought it was turning me on, he kept on going.

I swear, my man handling skills need a lot of improvement.

My cousin would dispatch a man like than in seconds.

The only redeeming thing about the whole scenario is that when it was time to say goodbye, my uncle gave me not one but two kisses.

Which basically doubled his chances of getting this cold that I can’t seem to get rid of.

Yes, payback’s a bitch.


P.S.  Best line of the day – when my cousin Jennifer came by to clear the plates and saw I ate the cake but left the frosting behind, she said “Cake is just like a spoon to eat frosting.”  Had me rolling on the floor.  Someone needs to follow her and my AunytStacey around and write down all the witticisms that they say during the day.  Gold, I tell you!