Saturday, January 1, 2011

Q & A - New Year's Edition

Coming at you live from Kentucky: the land of bluegrass, the state from which George Clooney hails, the city that's featured on the Wikipedia page when you type in "mullet" - it's Staaaacey Ragsdale!


Do you think it is ok to take your cat with you to a holiday party as long as the cat is in a box? Thank you Aunt Twyla

Okay, Aunt Twyla.... I need a few more specifics here. Does "box" mean "pet carrier" or does "box" mean "gift wrapped with a big ol' bow on top"? Actually, I guess it doesn't matter in either instance - as long as there are holes poked in either of those boxes for Kitty, I'd say it's perfectly acceptable because who wouldn't want to go to a party where there is a strong possibility of gift-wrapped pus...err...festive felines?



Where is the most horrible and disgusting place that you suddenly realized you absolutely must, without delay, go to the bathroom?

I've been elbow deep inside a dog before - I was assisting in a surgery, people. Seriously, it's not one of those freaky sideshows like they do in Tijuana. Not that I even know about those... - when nature has made it's untimely call. But, I'm guessing you mean gross bathrooms. When I was pregnant with Grayson I had to pee about every 3 minutes. By the time I had managed to wiggle my pants up and fumble to blindly maneuver the button into the hole to fasten them, I had to pee again. My husband barely saw me that last trimester. Anyway, one night we went to a high school football game and I had no sooner waddled my pregnant butt up the bleachers and sat down when the urge struck. Have you ever seen a pregnant woman try to run down bleachers? I can guarantee that everyone in the stands got their admission's worth that night. Chris went with me mainly because the baby was demanding I thought some popcorn sounded good. And a hotdog. And a cheeseburger. And a bag of chips. And an ice cold root beer to wash it all down my gullet. Upon arrival at the concession stand/bathrooms, I noticed a line of about 5 women. Nuh-uh. No way. I'd have to pee in my root beer bottle. And, Dear Readers, at this point in my pregnancy, I had no more dignity left, and I would have done it if it wasn't for all the kids running around. Although, the image of an 8.5 month pregnant woman attempting to publicly urinate in a bottle would probably be a good way to promote abstinence. See this kids? This is what happens when you have sex! You get pregnant and then you pee in bottles! And you don't give a crap who sees you do it! I looked around and quickly assessed the predicament I was in. There was no waiting for the men's bathroom. So, I did what any self-respecting, hormonal, hungry pregnant woman would do. I commanded nicely asked my husband to stand guard at the door of the men's room - I was going in. I didn't want to get in there and find the toilet stopped up and unusable with my only option being the urinal when some poor unsuspecting guy comes walking in to drain his lizard to see me propped up over the urinal hoping my aim is good. Yet another thought provoking image to promote abstinence. With Chris playing bouncer, I walked into the men's bathroom while all the women in line watched in horror. I gave them the Dude-I'm-totally-pregnant-here-and-I-must-make-haste look as I rushed inside. I was trying my best to not pee myself, so I didn't notice too much of the decor except that the door to the lone stall was hanging by one hinge. I yelled to Chris "There are no doors in here!! Oh, my god! I have to pee! I'm just gonna go! Don't let anybody come in!"- which in hindsight was stupid because the door to the bathroom itself was propped open with a rock, so I could've just told him at a normal volume. But, since I decided to shout it from the mountain tops, the entire line of women AND the people waiting in line at the concession stand heard my urinary proclamation. I walked out with a strut to my step to signify my victory. "I'm pregnant," I told one lady that gave me a disgusted look while I passed her.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"What? It was either the men's bathroom or my A&W bottle."

Okay, so it wasn't really a horrible and disgusting place to have to go, but it's one I will always remember. Maybe I should have just left my answer at "elbow deep inside a dog."



Since you said "memories" what is your favorite memory of us? :)

My friend Lauren asked me this question. Oh, wow. The one that I immediately think of is us in the drive-thru at the Hardee's in Murray trying to place 4 separate orders.
It was in April - pretty close to my birthday. My mom had gotten myself and 3 friends front row tickets to see Newsboys and my favorite band at the time, The O.C Supertones who were in town. We were as hormonal boy crazy teenage girls that we could be while still being devout. Murray is a college town -which to teenage girls meant Cute College Boy Mecca. Seizing the opportunity to scour the campus, we left Paducah about 5 hours prior to the concert. Hey, we were overachievers. We pulled into town in Lauren's Mazda and headed to Hardee's. Since we only had about 4 and half hours left until showtime, we decided to hit the drive-thru - just to make sure we weren't late. Need I remind you we were teenage girls? Being a teenager also means you have many more moments of stupidity than in any other age brackets throughout life. We chose to go through the drive-thru and place FOUR SEPARATE ORDERS. And of course, in true teenage girl fashion, we all had to picky with each of our orders. "No mayo on that double-cheeseburger!" "I want honey mustard for my chicken strips!" "Make sure you put the pickles on the side!" When we got to the 4th order and final order - the lady came over the loudspeaker and exclaimed "I'm soh-ry. But, we can only take chhree odahs in da drive-chru atta tiiiime." Faaaan-tastic. In all honesty, I don't remember going in and eating, but I'm sure we did. I will just always remember the sound of exasperation in that poor lady's voice as she took our orders. And, yes, we made it to the show in time.



What are your favorite and least favorite things about your children?

Wow. What a question. My favorite things about my children...I'm not even sure where to start. They're really good kids. I know, everyone thinks they're kids are the greatest and the cutest - and I'm guilty of that school of thought, too. I have awesome kids. I mean, seriously, have you seen them? I'm just waiting for the day Gerber comes knocking at my door telling me my boys' faces are going to be plastered on their products. In all honesty, I can safely say that my favorite and least favorite thing about my children is the same thing. Whaaaaat?! How can that be?! you say. I love the fact that my kids are young and (in my eyes) still babies. I love to see Grayson's eyes light up when he discovers something new - unfortunately the kid friggin' refuses to use the damn toilet. Can you tell I'm just a little miffed about this? Yes, I posted about Naked Potty Time - and that worked - but only while he was naked. He doesn't transfer the line of thought to actually use the toilet to when he has clothes on. He knows when to go - he's just too lazy to do it. I am not gonna lie. I have briefly considered selling him to gypsies. And Jack - my baby - my little baby - will be a year old in two months. Two months! That boy can program me just like a computer. He knows just what buttons to push to get me to do whatever he wants - and half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it until the task is completed. Ah, the woes of having intelligent children. Somedays I love the fact that they're still little and learning - other days I'm all "Ugh! Grow up already! I'm so tired of this stage you're in!" which I immediately regret thinking, because I know I'll be thinking the exact opposite when their teenagers. Ughhhh....I don't even wanna think about them as teenagers right now. They will eat me out of house and home.



Have you seriously considered writing as a money making endeavor? I see your short stories along the lines of the things Erma Bombeck wrote several years ago. I think the world needs more of those happy little short stories told.

I would love to think that my writing could make money. There have been some talks amongst friends about putting out a book that regales the random happenstances that make up my life, but none of it has been taken too seriously. I am certainly not opposed to it happening. Maybe some big fancy publisher will stumble across my blog and upon reading it will be all "Hot damn! This needs to be in a book! Let's get this girl a million dollars!" Hey, it's my fantasy, don't judge me. And then I'll be like Carrie Bradshaw. Except in Kentucky. And with kids. And not the least little bit fashionably inclined. Okay, so nothing like Carrie Bradshaw.

2 comments:

Lauren said...

Hardees was definitely one that came to mind for me too. We did not go in but instead two of us put our orders on the same ticket. Who was the other person? It was you, me, Candace........ Don't forget that I got us backstage passes!!!!

Stacey said...

Kristin was our 4th!! I certainly don't remember anything other than the woman getting huffy with us...not that I can blame her, but it was still funny!