Imma Be, Imma Be, Imma Imma Imma Be

Imma Be finishing up the first leg of my back-to-school odyssey very soon.
I just completed my Business Law final exam and I'm moving on to summer semester #3.
All of this means that I only have 4 classes left before I can finally leave community college as one of their most ancient sophomores and start my junior year this January at either Sam Houston University or University of Houston.
I haven't decided which one yet to target for admittance into their esteemed institution with my beg, boogaloo, beguile, and bribe with Infidel cupcakes campaign.
Yeah, I did say BOOGALOO. I may or may not be considering a bright future in the breakdancing profession, okay?
Add to that, my incredibly sharp and hard-working 15-year-old daughter Sunbum will henceforth be embarking on her third semester at college this Fall.
Papi and I are in the preliminary phases of our master plan entitled EMPTY NEST EXTRAVAGANZA and Sunbum is operating according to our grand scheme.
Now, we've called in 14-year-old Monkey for duty. She's headed to the college tomorrow to take the entrance exam and start Phase Two of the plan.
Excellent!
It may be a bit cocky but I believe that I can count my chickens before they hatch.........and then chicken dance with them in reckless celebratory abandon after they hatch.

Elastic's Got A Brand New Bag!

For the past 15 years I've lived, laughed, and loved per the bossy instructions on those cloying Mary Engelbreit magnets. I'm still working on fulfilling Mr. Spock's admonition to "Live Long And Prosper" but it's hard to obey the powerful messages broadcasted on cheesy merchandise all the time, you know?
A whole decade and a half. That's how long I've endured a bag lady evolution of sorts.
At 19 I carried a book bag to school that dazzled and amazed all who passed by with its brightly festooned cowboy boot motif.
My college career cut woefully short, I traded the Boot Scootin bag in at the age of 20 to make room for the plastic shopping mall bags that often held a recently purchased handbag or two like some sort of weird Bag O' Nesting Dolls thing.
It's ironic but those sets of bags were courtesy of my job which involves newspaper bags.
Later that same year bags symbolizing gluttonous spending were forever replaced by grocery bags brimming with the ingredients necessary to achieve a state of sublime marital utopia; bags from the maternity store soon followed.
By 21, I added a diaper bag to the mix which unexpectedly became my constant companion over the next 10 years and throughout 5 more mini-Infidel births.
There's a gym bag lost somewhere in the chronological order. It lived a short and uneventful life ferrying around a couple pounds of lethargic guilt at letting my fitness club membership lapse. Its remains lie somewhere alongside the Hello Kitty lunch bag purchased when I got on a kick to eat healthier.
The frightfully gray and puffy bags of weariness taking up residence under my eyes have traveled on this entire journey and cognitively recites the Tales Of The Tired to all who look upon me.
But now my bag lady life has come full circle for as of January 12, 2009 I am once again an Infidel chick who parades around the hallways of school, book bag swinging from my arm.

Papi's Christmas present to me looks similar to the model above. Is there anything sexier than a practical utilitarian bag stitched from more olive drab khakis than you'd find at a Gap store employee meeting? No, most assuredly there is not.
I'm also on a diet which means no more Buffets. I'm so sorry Jimmy......at least we'll always have Margaritaville. Golden Corral Buffet: Don't send out the search and rescue party, I'm just fine.........for now, anyway. But if you insist, can you make sure they bring me some of those delectably fluffy rolls and maybe a little steak filet or two....or three?
And as if the Infidel family couldn't get any more in the makeover phase, we're also fervently striving to budget better in 2009.
When I skimmed over the Top #10 New Year's resolutions list I realized that I'm personally attempting about 7 of them.
You should hear me belt out Tim McGraw's "Live Like You Were Dying"; it sounds more along the lines of "You Sing Like You're Dying" but at least I'm doing everything humanly possible outside of riding a bull named Fu-Manchu to bring some hope and change to the Infidel homestead in this upcoming year.
Man, hope and change. I went there and used that. Maybe I should just declare this the historic year of the cliche.
I'm a windbag/bag lady not yet sure what bag will be accesorizing my life in the near future. As long as I'm not being carted away in a body bag the possibilities are as limitless as the hairs on my chin.

DISCLAIMER!

Gentle Readers,

Are you new to the jaw-dropping, eyebrow-raising, armpit-scratching, chin-plucking wonders of The Smiling Infidel? You are? What took you so stinkin long to get here??!? Now the beautiful Mexican Casserole feast I made for you is all cold and greasy, and the dancing burro I hired for the party is too tired to even do The Macarena. Oh well, I still have plenty of savory Spam Cupcakes left for everyone to partake of and find Spammy happiness therein-- The kind of happiness that only processed and canned meat by-product can bring you.

Smiling Infidel veterans know that I'm homeschooling a houseful of mini-Infidels on top of working a couple of part-time jobs--Jobs where I get my hands dirty and everything. [Dirty hands to match my occasionally dirty soul] Hey, with a husband finishing his college degree, someones got to keep this family in the luxurious lifestyle of 3 meals a day that we've all become accustomed to.

Consequently, I don't return comments in the expedient manner I'd like to. This vexes me greatly despite the pithy little 'Blogging Without Obligation' thing I slapped into the sidebar. Just know that I do eventually make the rounds because no blog comment or commenter gets left behind or forgotten!

May All Your Days Be Filled With The Happiness Of Chicken Dancing,
elasticwaistbandlady

My Lastic Wants To Party All The Time, Party All The Time, Party All The Time!

Where else but The Smiling Infidel will you find an Eddie Murphy song for a birthday weekend theme? Go on and click the title to see what I mean.


Guess what the entire Infidel clan did on Saturday afternoon. Go on......... Guess! Yes, we spent it at a very exciting dance recital where my little Caterpillar performed with her class. The theme revolved around all things Radio Disney and Caterpillar's group shook it to 'Be True To Your Heart,' and 'What I've Been Looking For' from the movie, 'High School Musical.' Initially, I was none too thrilled at the black velvet and mesh, belly button-baring costumes that set me back 40 bucks. However, after seeing the downright trampy outfits the other girls had to wear, I felt immediately grateful that Caterpillar had something much more modest to prance around in that didn't expose her or cause massive wedgies. At the rehearsal dance I noticed all the fabulous bows atop her classmates long streaming ponytails. Caterpillar didn't have any, but the other moms told me where to go to buy one so that my Caterpillar could be a little princess clone along with their daughters. It cost a freakin 7 dollars for some wadded up ribbon! WTH? I decided to rifle through my obscenely mammoth ribbon bag and pull something together myself. I did. I saved 7 dollars and made something a lot cuter. You see, necessity isn't the mother of invention, being BROKE is.

As if the afternoon could get any more exhilarating, Caterpillar received her dance trophy. Yes, go on and stare in shock and disbelief at the hideousness of it. It's a bobbleheaded ballerina that doubles as a very special Exorcist Ballerina when you turn her head all the way around. Pea soup not included.

My super cute 5 month old nephew, Peyton Nathaniel, came to stay with us for the entire weekend and celebrate the grandiose birthday of his Smiling Infidel Aunt. My Dad and step-mom treated me to a fabulous dinner at our favorite Colombian restaurant. There's no greater love in this world than a father buying his daughter a succulent South American styled steak (alliteration!) on her birthday. I know what you're all thinking, but, no, my dad isn't a professional Dom Deluise impersonator. Although, he is thinking about auditioning for the 'Cannonball Run' remake.

The weekend of Infidel birthday love and adoration finished with a chocolate swirled cheesecake just for me. Awwww, don't you just love happy endings?

FIN

Tomorrow brings a posting brought to you live and in person from under the enormous cavalcade of Good Mail Girl stuff I've received. Yeah, a cavalcade!

If I Could Save Time In A Bottle.....

I'd have extra days to enjoy the new local Japanese buffet featuring all-you-can-eat crab legs!

I would never purposely ignore anyone. In real life I have an annoying habit of not realizing that somebody is speaking to me and I'll turn my back on them. Sometimes I even start to walk away before Papi calls my appalling social gaffe into attention. I'm worse than a deliberately rude person because I'm cluelessly rude. The blog world is different though. I don't have to think as hard on my feet or have my mind wander off aimlessly into a million directions so that I miss what's going on right in front of me. So, when you have a perceived notion that I'm rude because I don't respond to comments right away or take little blogging absences, it's not you. It's me. My Papi is finishing up school and has a grueling schedule along with an insane amount of work. I toil away at three different part-time jobs along with the joy of my 6 homeschooled children who demand that I feed them occasionally and rent Ninja Turtle videos. Due to Papi's overloaded course path this semester, I also inherited the privilege of taking over one of his part-time jobs twice a week too because my life just wasn't full enough. Idle hands are tools of the Devil, you know. Factor in basketball/soccer practices and ballet classes to the mix and you can see why I'm too exhausted to even pluck my overgrown eyebrows or extend my middle finger to inconsiderate drivers. I'm so tired during the middle of the week that I can't even perform my motherly chicken dancing duties with the kids. Weep for them. Anyway, thanks for putting up with me. I love all the comments. I am honor bound to reciprocate all comment action, it just takes a little longer for me to get around to it these days.

Enjoy the Infidel Jam Of The Day , "The Mating Game," located in the sidebar. There's a fabulous martini bar groove working throughout this slinky little jazz like song. Fans of Grey's Anatomy will likely recognize it as it's been used in a couple episodes.