the only time I'll wear a shower cap

I got a spray tan.

And I have to admit that the process is slightly abnormal. I mean, where else can you undress, other than the shower, and PUT ON a shower cap?

I'm fairly sure other tanners could hear me giggling as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror just before stepping inside the giant booth that sprays bronzing mist from head to toe. I read the instructions at least three times before hitting the huge green button which resembled a stoplight, knowing once I activate the thing, there would be no going back. I tried to anticipate when the spray would begin by holding my breath, only to have to start over three different times. And no one prepared me for just how cold the solution would be, because there's nothing better than being misted with bits of ice-cold something or other.

My favorite part? Standing in the 'stopsign' position, which means an unnatural turn to the side, with one hand up as if you're directing traffic, and the other hand dropped to the other side, doing something I've never seen before.

Two minutes and a blast of warm air later, I was done, and dried off with a tiny towel the size of a piece of Chicklet gum. The shower cap was tempting, but I figured even my grandmother wouldn't be caught wearing it out in public, so I tossed it in the trash.

All in all, the silly process gives good results, even if my youngest son took one look at me upon arriving home and said, 'Mommy, you don't look the same.' The things we do just to wear a fancy dress.

Thank goodness the CMA Awards come only once a year.

it's one way to save money, I guess

I stopped to fill up my gas tank today, and noticed the guy at the pump next to me.

He was cleaning his windshield with the complimentary solution and sponge provided, something I always think appears to be a good idea but never do. I finished up, and walked inside to get my husband the fountain drink that he loves more than the swimshirt our 4-year-old loves, and still wears, even though the pools have closed for the season. When I returned to my car, I spotted the guy next to me still cleaning his car.

The whole car.

He sponged down the entire exterior of his vehicle, the trunk, the doors the hood, even the roof. Sure wish I had that kinda time. Yet, I suppose it's cheaper than a carwash. His kids and wife waited patiently inside, so calm that I'm fairly sure they wouldn't have cared if I'd asked the guy to sponge down my car as well.

Something to think about.

it's easier to spell, that's for sure

Apparently, I screwed up.

No, I didn't forget to put money in my son's lunch account. Instead, one of my boys came home today and told me he no longer liked his name and wanted to change it. Said it 'wasn't even a name,' and I apparently made it up. I'll admit, neither of our kids are a John or a Christopher, but it's not like I named the boys after my favorite Starbucks beverage.

Latte Honeycutt?

Really, that would never happen. Unless, by some small chance I would be given a discount in exchange for naming rights. Hey, some things are worth negotiating.

Anyway, my son told me he would have preferred something a little more common, like 'Joe.'

So, Joe it is. But, I told him kids named Joe or Joseph usually love to help clean the house, especially on Friday nights, so I'm fairly sure this phase will soon pass.

G'night.

there are picky eaters...and REALLY picky

My oldest wasn't a fan of tonight's dinner...pork loin.

Ok, so every meal won't be a homerun. Let's face it, I had to have a separate pot of chili as a child because the idea of beans was enough to make me more nervous than the time I thought the paperboy was the boogey man.

My son's Plan B for dinner? An Uncrustable. Except as I tore it open, he asked me to tear off the 'crust.' You know, that zigzaggy edge that looks similar to a pie crust? Hey, whatever it takes...but I got to thinking...

Does that make it an Un-uncrustable?

a little Carrie 101

Carrie Underwood called the show this week, the morning of the release of her new album Play On. And we always learn something new about the girl whose father calls 'Abdul.' So, here you go:

The release of her album is sort of like the first day of school butterflies.

The leather pants Carrie wears in the album's promo shot, featuring slashed pants, were hard to put on. Carrie joked that she got into a weed-whacking accident while taking out the dog.

Carrie says she has a stylist, and they try to stay off the worst-dressed lists. Still, she admits to being irritated by critical comments from the fashion police. I told her I never hear the negative, and Carrie responded, 'Listen harder.'

Carrie promised to dish about what she plans to wear when she first steps onstage at next week's CMA Awards. More on that when she visits our broadcast next week, in Nashville.

And there you have it.

this is pathetic

Ok...so still no dress.

I'm pretty spontaneous, so waiting till the last minute to figure out what I'm wearing to the CMA Awards is par of the course when it comes to me, however, I'm starting to panic. I fell in love with the dress I tried on today, and by the way this shopping stuff is cutting in to my naptime, until I caught a glimpse of the price tag.

$398.00

Uhhhhhhh...no. After all, I will likely wear the threads one night, not to mention the countless cups of coffee I could buy at Starbucks with that cash. So, I returned home with nothing, and now I'm feeling antsy. Kinda like the feeling you get when it's your child's turn at bat with a full count, and you're praying he doesn't return to the bench. That kind of antsy.

But, it's just a dress.

Speaking of dresses, Carrie Underwood has promised to share with us a little inside scoop regarding her opening attire when she co-hosts the show next Wednesday. The CMA Female Vocalist nominee will visit with us in Nashville that morning, and I promise to ask if she voted for herself. Don't all the stars?

Stay tuned.

shopping...family style

Remember that shopping trip I told you about?

Well, I went. And it was unsuccessful. So, I'll be the one in the 3rd or 4th row at the CMA Awards wearing sweats. Should blend in well, don't ya think?

On the other hand, it was nice meeting my mother and younger sis out. That's always a giggle or two. Too bad my older sister was working...she makes it fun as well.

No dress, but we did learn some new things about each other. They came to the agreement that I'm waaaaaaaaaay too picky. After about an hour, Kristen eventually told me that part of shopping involves 'trying things on.' I suppose that's the way it works. I learned that Kristen walks waaaaaaay too fast, and Mom moves waaaaaaaay too slow. We shopped together, but had trouble walking the same stride.

I left empty-handed, and realized half-way home that I never got that pretzel.

Good times.

no one looks at the back, right?

Ok, so I've got my dress for the CMA Awards.

Now I need another one. I tried that very dress on for the first time yesterday since it arrived last week in the mail. I remember the day clearly. I found a cardboard box from Nordstroms on my porch, and I excitedly opened it to find a jeweled green strapless dress inside. Trying it on proved to be a little difficult. No one was home at the time, and no matter how far I reached, I couldn't get it zipped. It would only go so far, then nothin'. Not too concerned, I put it aside.

Yesterday, we traveled to visit my mom, grandma and sisters for a family dinner and I brought the dress along. I got them up to speed, and told them one of two things would happen: Either the dress doesn't fit, or I simply needed assistance.

And it's never a good sign when your 85-year-old grandmother offers to help and you hear, 'Honey, I'm afraid I might break your zipper.' Super. And note to self: Don't ask Grams if my jeans make me look fat.

We eventually got it, though sitting down for the show might be as comfortable as a trip to that doctor each year. My sisters voted yes, saying it looked great, but they have to say that...they're related. My complaint is how the dress fit in the back. And it's not exactly a good time to come up with something else. After all, we only leave in 8 days.

So, it's back to square one, and the best part? I hate to shop, as patience is not my forte. Usually, shopping for me involves needing something, going to get it, and leaving...immediately. Browsing, getting a dressing room, trying on, getting dressed again, and repeating the process over and over at multiple stores as frustration builds isn't my thing.

The truth is, I could wear the darn thing. I love the color, love the style, love it all...just not the zipper or the permanent feeling of needing to exhale. Comfort and being able to have an occasional snack the night of the show would be nice. So, I'm heading to the mall shortly.

I'll be the one having a meltdown in the women's department. Nothing a pretzel with salt can't fix.