I’m ready to cut ties and let loose. Both in life and in my wardrobe. I think that maybe I am a cowgirl at heart.

Currently, I am obsessed with all things Junk Gypsy. I wrote about them not long ago when I got a care package from one of the owners, Jolie, who is a reader of this here blog. She is of the super cute and fun variety. We hit it on in rapid fire emails to one another and I’m pretty sure we are now cousins. The kind who show up at the family reunion and who sneak off to steal beers from Uncle Wally’s cooler, shake them up, and put them back in there to wait for it to explode all over him. Those kind of cousins.

Jolie is on the right and her mom and sister are next to her. If they get any more cute I’m going to have to hurt a baby horse.

Anyway. I love Jolie and her wares. I love them so much that I’m not going to do anything but show some of my favorite things from her little shop down in East Texas and hope that you take a visit. When I said I was doing this she actually agreed to give my readers a special offer so we’re partnering up to offer something special.

Check out a few of my favorite items:

The PoNchO ViLLA. This entire outift screams I AM MY OWN PERSON AND I AM FRINGY AND HAWT.

This is the EL CHeAPo ConCHo cuff which comes in turquoise, lapis, red coral and orange coral. I think you’ll need them all.

I simply adore the moonlight pendant. It has got to be one of the more versatile pieces from Junk Gypsy.

One of their many t-shirts outfitted with layered necklaces. A great, easy way to classy up a t-shirt.

Their TiE-DYE off the shoulder hippie ChiCK blouse. Innocently sexy. Purposefully sassy.

Lordy be, but I am all about the WANDERLUST these days.

Baby guitars. For when you’re feelin’ a little wild.

Here’s the special offer from Jolie and family over at Junk Gypsy. If you’re ordering something online you can add ‘MOCHA’ to your order and get free shipping. But wait just a second, little darlins. There’s more…

Coming soon I will be doing a giveaway of some Junk Gypsy goods that Jolie is sending to me. She has graciously agreed to outfit me for the BlogHer Conference in New York next weekend. If you happen to see me there, say “Howdy!” because I’m pretty sure I’m going to look like a seriously hipster cowgirl. While I love to get things, I also love to giveaway. So I’m taking some of those goodies she’s shipped to me and giving them away in a contest to be done the following week of BlogHer. I’m giving it away and not keeping it. GIVING IT AWAY will become my new mantra. To me, this was the best way to show off her stuff, garner new customers and lovers of Junk Gypsy, and do a good thing. In fact, I might just do Good Things Contests from now on without always seeking sponsorship. Because that’s how real cowgirls and gangstas and mommybloggers roll. Or so I hear.

The only thing I’m hanging onto, however, are a pair of Tony Lama boots because they are custom fit for my big ol’ country girl feet and you wouldn’t want them after I’ve broken them in anyway.

Yee haw.

When my sister became a grandmother I took pleasure in teasing her quite a bit, but she says she was ready for it even though she’s a mere 40. Last weekend I visited with my family in Chicago and took my good camera (I have a point and shoot as well) and decided that I was taking no less than 60 gazillion pictures of my very fun, extremely photogenic great-niece who seemed to be in the best mood ever for an almost 2 year old. Much of the time she sat in my lap and let me snap away. Every time I looked at these I thought, “You ought to be in pictures”. The curls, the eyes.

Being with my family always makes me happy and any time I am feeling down I am going to look at these pictures to remind me of it. Anyway, I thought I’d share. (And please, don’t steal them. Her grandmother would hunt you down and remove your spleen with her bare teeth. No kidding.)

The fact that she sat still long enough to get good pictures shows that she probably needed a nice long nap.

Her eyes are like dark pools that draw you in and then BAM! You’re mesmerized! Hoodwinked! Bamboozled!

Eating my camera lens cover because they are soooooo delicious.

“The happiest people are those who think the most interesting thoughts. Those who decide to use leisure as a means of mental development, who love good music, good books, good pictures, good company, good conversation, are the happiest people in the world. And they are not only happy in themselves, they are the cause of happiness in others.”      - William Lyon Phelps

Right here and right now I am going to apologize for overusing the word ‘whatnot’. It’s not my fault. One of the summer reading books I’m enjoying is an audible book that I’m listening to on my iPod. It’s Kathryn Stockett’s “The Help” and listening to it is affecting my non-existent southern accent because for the rest of the day I will suddenly add extra syllables to words. Early on in my listening one of the characters used the word “whatnot” and now I am killing that word. And whatnot.

Let me share my very sexy life with y’all for a moment. Today, I spent time cleaning out my refrigerator and there were too many things that had to be thrown away without me documenting it for my shame to be shared throughout the land. I am pretending that I am a princess today and it really helps to clean out your own muck while wearing a tiara. TRUST ME. So, I’m cleaning it out and listening to “The Help” and then my phone dings at me to say I have an email and I read that I was nominated for an honor at the closing ceremony for BlogHer this year. You can find the post here with all the other entries. Someone nominated me and I don’t know who it was, but thank you nonetheless and whatnot.

The blog entry that was nominated was “I’m Black Irish and I’m Proud” and it might be weird to say, but it’s one of my favorite posts that I’ve written and also one that was painful to write. Also currently on BlogHer is a piece on cyberbullying by Gina Carroll that I got interviewed for a while back. It sums up my frustration with dealing with it as an administrator and yet doesn’t even come CLOSE to the mess that this little gal is in right now. I watched the videos this morning just shaking my head that an 11-year old had that much power over what she was putting out on the web and then her screaming father reminded me all too well of the kinds of things I might hear when they want us to clean up the mess. She is a complete brat and plays with her bangs so much I kind of want to make her cut them off, but that’s neither here nor there.

A friend of mine also emailed me today that she nominated me for the Black Weblog Awards and reminded me that since they are now taking nominations I should go ahead and pimp myself out so there you have it and whatnot. If you’re inclined, please nominate me for Best Personal Blog.

Do it because you love me. Do it because I have no food in my refrigerator. Do it because I said please.

And whatnot.

1. I spend an inordinate amount of time in our two art classrooms or talking with art students because they are, without a doubt, some of the hippest cats out there. I was speaking to one of them, let’s call her Chloe, and she was talking about a substitute teacher who walked past us in the hallway. “He is bizarre, that guy. I think he has ties to a mafia-type related family but in a gay way. Like a rainbow-clad grifter.” I know that when she said that to me my face contorted into a mix of awe and confusion that she would describe him like that. But then she added, “Yeah, I know this because my dad is gay and they’re friends. But my dad isn’t in the mafia. He’s just gay. Those are two totally different things.” Never let it be said that students won’t tell you EVERYTHING. My whole face must read, “Tell me all your secrets. ALL OF THEM.”

2. In the event that I could sneak this next thing right in here and not have you think that it is an emergency situation (which is why I purposely didn’t put this one as number one) I will just quickly say that my dad had a heart attack on Friday and he is just fine. We have spoken every day since then on the phone and he insisted and demanded and pulled out the BECAUSE I’M YOUR FATHER card and told me that I was to continue packing up my house to move tomorrow and Saturday (hey, friends, just show up to help – you know where to go) and not go up to Chicago to see him in the hospital. He said I couldn’t do anything anyway (he must have forgotten about my magical, healing powers to fetch ice chips and fluff pillows) and that I was, in no uncertain terms, supposed to get off my course to moving to my new house. He is so damn stubborn and I am grateful he hasn’t passed any of that on to his children. Bless him for that.

3. The school year is coming to a close and it’s very interesting to me how things just come out of nowhere when you think you won’t be seeing your co-workers and friends for the summer. For instance, several people told me recently that they thought that all year long I was having an affair with a married co-worker and before I could even get offended and all crazy on them I decided to laugh it off. This isn’t the first time I’ve had a friendship with a male that other people were uncomfortable with and I can’t help it if I’m that interesting to gossip about! You know it’s hard being this fascinating and spectacular all the time. In fact, it’s downright exhausting. Why, just last night while living my fabulous lifestyle I heated up an Apple Blossom dessert and covered it in caramel sauce and called that dinner. Then I watched “Transformers” on television with my 15-year old son and we watched the rain cover the backyard and basement. RIVETING, I TELL YOU. All the while, I was dialing up phone numbers of people with whom I’m supposedly having affairs and we told fart jokes and had belching contests. Really, people.

4. So, the person I’m supposedly having an affair with (honestly, I can barely type that without laughing at the thought) (not because he’s not a lovely person, he is! but no, just no, absolutely no) (when he reads this he is going to kick my ass) was asking me how my dad was doing and I admitted that on Saturday afternoon I started to kind of lose my shit and had to call some friends for help. I sent this mass text to my tribe and told them what was happening and asked if anyone could come over and help me pack because the keys to my car were in my hand and I wanted desperately to drive to the hospital to see my dad. One of the things I’m horrible at is asking friends for help. Usually, I just take it all in, turn it into a stressball, try desperately to score some feel-good drugs like Xanax from my friends, and then weep from the fatigue of trying to solve all my problems myself.

Me: I called my tribe this weekend for some help. I’m proud of myself for sucking it up, putting my pride to the side, and asking friends to come rescue me.

Mr. Not Having An Affair: You’re tribe? You didn’t call me. Why am I not in your tribe?

Me: Because you’ve never even been to my house.

Mr. Not Having An Affair: So I have to be in your house to be in your tribe?

Me: Well, yeah. That’s how this works. We befriend one another, we get close and share stuff, and then you become a part of my tribe.

Mr. Not Having An Affair: That’s stupid.

Me: You are welcome to get in my tribe. First, we see a chick flick. Then, you bring a bottle of my favorite wine over to my house. There’s some burning of candles in there and some dancing around in your underwear in my backyard, too, but we can get to that after the wine.

Mr. Not Having An Affair: This is good information to know.

I think that when he said that last thing he was probably wondering if I mixed medicines in a lethal combination that would make me try to tear off his face and wear it as a mask while wandering around in a misty existence carrying enormous knitting needles. Or something like that. If you’re a part of my tribe, you’d understand that to be the most coherent and normal sentence I’ve ever written. If you’re in my tribe, that didn’t scare you.

5. This morning, my friend Chad and I were conversing via the wicked, evil, privacy-invading Facebook. We were having way too much fun, but it was this thing that he wrote that made me start convulsing with laughter: “I just learned about the diva cup I’ll have you know. I thought it was like the Stanley cup for drag queen hockey.” Chad needs his own radio show.

6. And finally, these are the top 5 texts I’ve received just this week. Some of them are so funny I consider making that a weekly blog post because I am a lazy blogger they crack me up:

Penis-enhancing drug emails never get old. It’s like they can see my small penis all the way from there.

I’m pretty big in the Congo, which sounds like a good thing but if you put a map in front of me I would have a hard time finding it. I mean, sure, Africa and all.

I am not getting enough cinnamon rolls in my diet.

Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure I get to call Yahtzee and win the entire game of life. Well, Life is another game, but you know what I mean. Heh. I want to play Yahtzee now.

Reality is a little too real right now. Eat your heart out, reality tv whores.

7. I’m not going to do a number eight because it’s time to get up and get dressed for work and then I have that appointment to close on my house. I hope my new neighbors are in some weird, grifter-type gay mafia and that there is at least one cat lady.

8. I wrote a number 8 to say that I have not scored any Xanax to make me write like this.

Skip That: There is a parent who gets upset with me every year and threatens to have her mother, that would be the student’s grandmother, come up to school to kick my ass. Every. Year. Today, I told that story to some teachers when we were sitting in a meeting and then I ran into her at CVS. She told me she couldn’t stand me again. I’m pretty sure she’s on the special sauce side, so I just ignore it.

Read This: My daughter just bought her first house. I couldn’t be prouder or more excited for her. All the cool things she’s doing to get ready for her house are incredibly creative. Like, for instance, taking an old door with 15 glass panels, sanding it down, painting it, and creating a totally amazing headboard out of it. IF I PUT THAT RIGHT ON MY BLOG THEN SHE’S FORCED TO GIVE ME PICTURES. (Surely, someone will ask to see pictures of that and we can guilt her into it.)

Skip That: I went on a road trip after dropping off my nephew to his mom, my sister, when he spent his Spring Break with my family. On the trip home we took back roads and refused to stop for directions. Luckily, I had my camera with me but this gem I snapped with my Hipstamatic camera.

Old, abandoned gas pump.

Read This: Incidentally, Stacey, of Stacey Says won the BlogHer/Lincoln Crossover gift card in the amount of $500. Congratulations, Stacey! My apologies for taking so long to get that written up. You’ve probably spent the gift card by now.

Skip That: There are other contests coming up soon. Skip this sentence since it’s not a contest of any sort.

Read This: Racialicious blog.

Skip That: The incredibly insensitive blog personal narrative written by two hipsters on which that article is based.

Read This: If I just throw in an apology here without any sort of warning and just hope that readers forgive me (OMG, Janie, shut UP already, I will blog when I can blog) (Janie Bird? You know I love you more than my scooter. Don’t be mad.)

Skip That: My throat is all itchy and my eyes are watery. This is the worst pollen season ever. That should make you want to forgive me for being a bad blogger lately. It’s not that I can’t really see through these swollen, hay fever eyes. It’s that I’m on Imitrex as well as Claritin and Zyrtec and the fake Sudafed which, I think, is called Wal-phed since I bought it from Walgreens so my brain is a little bit scary right now. I live dangerously on my polka-dotted unicorn.

Read This: Happy Earth Day? (The jokes will write themselves sometimes.)

Skip That: Sometimes, when I come back from an online writing hiatus, I catch up and read about all the crap that’s happened online and I’m at once ashamed and sad that the blogging community can be so ugly. But, then I count my blessings in bloggy friends and remember that the company you keep says a lot about you.