Dublin Dog Collars - YOU Should Be So Lucky!

Check out these GORGEOUS (and versatile) collars. Faith is going to be the new Spokes Dog for Dublin Dog! Oh, we couldn't be happier.

We met the owner of Dublin Dogs (Jason Watson) at the Great Pet Expo in Orlando, Florida - you remember, the day Faith was lost at the airport and CNN came out to film our reunion? Well, turns out that God was really watching over Faith and I guess she had a little Irish LUCK too, because soon after the show we were asked to be the spokes people/dog for the company! Oh, and they're so pretty.

The collars (Jason can tell you more, but I'll give it a go) are 100% rubber, washable, durable. They never scrape, crack, break, or stain - and you know what - they look new years after they've been worn. Dogs that go fishing, swimming, climbing up banks, and chasing geese through mud holes (like Faith) come out completely nasty - but you just wipe the Dublin Dog collar off with a little soap and water and it's perfect again! I'm telling you, there's no better product; except maybe wings - that would be cool - I could wind her up and let her fly across the pond - - give her a more even playing field for the geese that way!

Seriously - we can't wait to show off her collars when they come in. We're getting her a completely new summer wardrobe, and in the fall maybe we'll find a plaid collar for those school daze visits. She's going to need a camoflaged collar for the military stations, and the sherbet collars are perfect for running around in Florida - which we seem to do quite often. Only in Florida can you find a pink house with a teal roof and a big yellow window pane! Gotta love the colors.

Thanks Jason... We can't wait to show off your duds dude! You can find Dublin Dog collars easily by googling, or just going to the website - http://www.dublindog.com (It's under construction, but you can see most of the new lines!)

A Diamond in the Rough

I've sold insurance for more than twenty years - albeit not all of those twenty years were in a row, and I didn't sell it continuously - but that doesn't mean I don't know my way around a lead, and it certainly doesn't mean that I can't make an appointment call without the big boss listening in and micromanaging my every move. I may have been born in the afternoon, but it wasn't this afternoon - you've heard the saying.

I decided to get back into sales again after a couple of years of being absent in the field. The ONLY reason I went back to selling is because at this point and time I have to make a few ends come together while I'm working out the get-rich-quick thing. I've been working on it for years, and am convinced that my statute of limitations has run out on so many of the things I've tried in the past. Sales just seems to kick in, and I seem to be a natural - at least I think I am, which can be benificial when closing a deal. My problem is, and has always been, I'm not a conformist. I don't do the sales call like 99% of the others. When I hear a sales agent giving canned schpiel I want to throw myself through the receiver, grab them by the throat and scream "HEY, I'm human, talk to me...don't read to me, ask me real questions, feed me something interesting so I'll bite at whatever it is you're peddling." Hell, no wonder people hang up, I HANG UP when I get that call!

I spent 45 minutes on the phone today doing grunt work for a guy who thinks that following the script will get his office into a better productivity margin. The poor office went from 12 agents last year to 2 1/2 this year and that's before you count the fact that one of them has already told me that he's leaving just as soon as he's licensed in another state. Something isn't working for that office - four managers in as many years - can't be the company, must be the approach. What is it they say "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result"...couldn't be more true. So, after my 45 minutes I handed the manager a stack of 15 leads - I managed SOMEHOW to drum up. He said they were useless because I hadn't used the script, and he couldn't send his REAL agents out to do a sales pitch or presentation because he wasn't sure of what I had said. FAIR ENOUGH.

I went. I drove my happy butt out to the first appointment - introduced myself, and we talked for about an hour actually about everything under the big, bright, sun EXCEPT Medicare supplements, and long term care. I don't talk about what I sell - I sell it. After an hour of getting to know the man, going through his kitchen to find cream for MY coffee, and asking him for the remote so I could change the channel and see what Palestine had decided to do with their free time today - I pulled out my application - well, his application. I filled it out, asking questions about his health, going over the costs of nursing homes vs. stay-at-home care, and I even joked about having him sign over his house, dog, and johnboat to me so he could qualify for a lower premium. NO, I didn't sign the contract because I'm not appointed with the company yet - but you know what; tomorrow morning when the boss drinks his orange juice, he'll have another Plan J in his pocket as well as a full premium long term care policy for a man aged 71, about $311.75 a month after all is said and sealed.

Diamonds come in many many shapes, sizes, qualities, and colors - ME, well - I may be rough, but I'm good enough to shine the way I was made. By the way, I decided NOT to work for that company afterall. I don't need the training - I need to talk my way into a few more houses and do what I do - befriend, and then BE the friend. I don't know about other agents, but I still remember the names of the kids of the people I sold to over two decades ago - and I wonder if they remember me.

Mavericks are OK when you understand them.

I SOOO Have a Plan!

Oh, this is really cool - I'm finally working again. It's awesome. I'm getting commission, but that's OK because I'm a big mouth, and I do the talk and take money thing pretty well. I've been selling something all my life; whether it was lemonade on the corner of 22nd and Mueller growing up, or life insurance - I meet or exceed every goal I set for myself. It's a fear thing. I'm afraid I won't succeed - so I just keep doing what I'm doing until it gets done, and then I don't actually stop for fear I haven't quite done enough. My teachers used to hate that about me, but I graduated with honors and took a breath at the commencement!

So, I'm selling life, health, and accident insurance again. This time (without mentioning the company's name) I'll say I'm wearing green again. I'll be out in the field talking to farmers again, and maybe this time if I'm asked to deliver a baby cow I won't flinch...been there, done that, did you say you were going to take out a whole life policy to cover the entire family Mr. Jones? AWESOME! Where's that hefer? Nothing beats selling insurance, nothing in sales that is. I couldn't think of a "funner" way to make money and to get to know your country neighbors.

Actually, my plan doesn't actually include staying in the rural areas for long. My goal is to be a manager of a large metroplexed office maybe in Dallas or Chicago - I'm thinking condo downtown with a mortgage so high I would have fainted to think about it last year. My goal to work in the big city is something new, but something I think I'm ready for. With my books being published soon by a REAL publisher, my dog being sponsored and doing her thing with my daughter in tow - I'm free to seek the things I've wanted to find for years but couldn't because the kids were too young and needed me .... freedom at last! Freedom at last! I'm going to the big city and I'm not looking back!

July 20-24 I'll be in Chicago, checking it out to see if I'd like to try a slice of life's pie that I've only read about. I'm online constantly looking up highrise condos with all-glass fronts up near the River North section - something overlooking Lake Michigan, with a lobby, a gym, an indoor pool, a doorman, and the guarantee that I won't be able to afford a second bedroom for the girls - believe it or not, that appeals to me. I'll be able to get leather furniture, glass accents, and OHHHHH, I can get the frames I want, and the lamps - the lamps I CHOOSE! Somedays dreams can simply over take me.

The first week of August I'll be in Dallas - Big D. Yes, I'll be going to Ozzfest to see my daughter and pet my dog - or see my dog and pet my daughter, I don't really know which. But it will also be a time for me to check out the layout of that big city, and find an overpriced highrise that allows dogs like Matrix, and find out if they're going to charge me extra for keeping my kids there. I hope they do. It would give me the excuse to pay their rent(s) in Oklahoma - so they can go to college and LEAVE ME ALONE like the independent almost-adult people I grew them up to be...no, I'm not mean. I'll let them buy me dinner from time to time, and I'll even invite them over for holidays - I'm nice that way.

Dallas? Chicago? Some place I can jump on a plane and go home if they absolutely can't go another minute without me. Some place where I can eat in different restaurants, wearing really cool, flashy, clothes, and not feel like a stand out. You just can't do that in Oklahoma City. I want to tip the guy carrying out my groceries - except no one carries out your groceries anymore and if you tip someone here they stare at you open-eyed and drop jawed! I'm a tipper! I think big city and I always have - I'm telling you, I think I'm a Vanderbilt. Stringfellows live in places with triple digit populations and landmarks like "The big red barn", or the "pond up a ways". When a Stringfellow dies they get buried in the city and everyone wonders where they came from - no one knew they were there; and they wouldn't BE THERE in the city cemetary if digging a hole in the backyard and throwing a body in it weren't still illegal!

I love my family name. I kept it actually when I married, only surrendering it after an error when my ex and I bought a house together. I couldn't wait to get the name back after I dug a hole and threw him in it - don't tell anyone! So, I have a plan! Keeping my Vanderbiltness a secret and making it on the Stringfellow ticket - I'm going to the big city soon, and I'm going to stare out the big glass windows and drink a blush wine toast to the newness. If the doorbell rings, and I hear the girls fighting in the hallway over whether or not they found me - I may giggle a little before I take the fire escape!

It's a good plan.

Christmas Cards on Sale!

It is true. Rest, sit back, and relax. You can get all of your Christmas cards on sale this month if you can find a store selling left overs - Tuesday Mornings was my choice. So, just incase you're on my list, and 200+ of you are - you'll recieve the cutest gold lined cards, 4"x 4" with a photo of a little white fluffy dog catching snow flakes. The interior reads "Let it Snow! Holidays are Fun Again". If that bit of information ruins the season for you - don't worry, you'll forget you read this spoiler by Thanksgiving - and when you get my card in the mail you'll think you had a moment of deja' vu'. Should be fun.

I found a stack of Christmas and holiday cards from years back - found them today when I was trying to rework the puzzle that I call my storage unit - ever do that? You get one, put all the big things in first, things you don't need. You add the boxes later. Big heavy boxes on the bottom, but not too big - because you can't lift them. Medium sized heavier boxes are best. Then somehow you get the smaller heavier boxes to fit, and the larger, medium, smaller boxes that are either rectangular or unable to be taped up, they go on top of those - and before you know it, you're working a jigsaw - worse than the freakin' Rubic's Cube to figure out. Oh, but my darlings were PERFECT with the markers - they were absolutely amazing.

I found a box marked with 81 different titles. I swear to God, I'm not lying - Laura listed the contents of the entire box: ALL OVER THE BOX. So, I pull it out, it reads: Crayons, pencils, lense case, 6-Lego things, paint tube thingy, pens, and dictionary. It continued to explain that Christmas bows, a battery charger, and a box of dominoes was also inside. Must have been the one box I would have called "MISC". Leave it to Laura - but you know what, if I want my dictionary I'll remember it is in THAT box. The box behind THAT box was the box marked "Stupid cards that we don't need but Mom keeps anyway". Why are my kids so mean? I don't want to throw out little cards given to me by my dead aunts, my new and old friends, my co-workers who I may someday remember. I don't want to chunk them just because they're 11 or 12 years old. I have an original drawing from Wayne Coyne in that box! Yeah, that's right, Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips baby, drew me a card for Christmas - The Flaming Lips rule! (telling me to throw out cards, to hell with that!)

So, every once in a while when we're out and about the city of Edmond, and have nothing else to do - we go by the storage unit and visit our stuff. You know, make sure the floods of May didn't overtake the boxes, making sure the rats and cockroaches aren't making permanent homes in our photo box, or worse - my pretty curtain box. I have a pretty curtain box, and then I have the ugly curtain box. Caity's title. It was her way of letting me know she didn't agree with my purchases. Why don't I just put her in a box and write all over it "Nothing in this box, nothing to see - just a big, mean, nasty, folded up kid with her tongue sticking out at me!" Why? Well, because we went to the zoo today to waste a little time, and she jumped over a really scary fence to save a kid that was just about to take a header into the sealions' domicile - that's her - that's my Caity. One minute I'm ready to stuff her in a hole, the next I'm crying with my heart about to bust from pride.

When I got to the storage unit I pulled out the box that said "Kids School Stuff" and I dug through it a little. Caity and Laura looked at me. I found what I was looking for almost instantly. You pack a box yourself, and you have that luck sometimes. There in the middle of the seemingly messy mix of moments from a decade or more of grades and little momentos that again, I couldn't bear to part with - was the award Caity won in the 3rd grade for bravery. She had told the teacher about a boy who brought a knife to school. It just seemed appropriate to get into the box and get out her little medal. I tried to straighten out the little red and blue ribbons so I could pen it onto her shirt today. She laughed at me, but she wore it all the rest of the day. What a neat little brat - and then, it was off to Tuesday Morning. Some days are just good like that!

Always the Addict!

MY GOD, I love this picture!

So, I'm in Orlando, Florida looking for a Starbucks, which I might add - is not as easy as looking for one in Manhattan! I finally find it - but I had to go on the Universal Walk to do it. It wasn't the one in the picture, but it was upstairs, and to date, it was the first Starbucks I ever went to that was upstairs. This photo of course, looks more like what I would (or will) find when I visit Hogwarts this Summer. Can't wait.

Starbucks has me by the throat - and this also means they have me by the purse. I spend more or less the same amount of money a day on drinks as I do on gasoline - you do the math. I'm broke. I drive to Starbucks to fill up, and then to the 7-11. There's NO WAY I'm missing out on my drink just because my car needs a refreshment. I'll freakin' walk to the mall before I go without my cappucino. Oh, but now - now, Starbucks has gone too far. Yes, they're doing it. They're pulling out the stops. Putting orange, raspberry, blackberry, whatever berry or flavor you want in your mocha - which I guess they did anyway with their Christmas specialty the Peppermint Mocha.....damn them! The new Orange Creme Mocha comes in the standards, the hot, the cold, the frozen, the blended, the coffee based - tall, grande, venti. (I watched this morning as man ordered a small, and I laughed. We laugh. Starbucks addicts. We laugh.)

To be honest - today was my first attempt at falling in love with the Orange Creme Mocha. I live in Edmond for a while still - maybe until October, so I went to MY store at Santa Fe and Danforth. I let Naoma and Rachal have a shot at making the virgin OCM - DANG....they know their stuff. They knew they had me before I waltzed in. I don't walk, I glide into Starbucks. I float. I know I'm gone - I know I'm captive. Why fight it? I have a really good machine at home too, and yes, I do make myself the various drinks that I can pay outrageous prices for at the store. I make one every morning before I leave - and because NO ONE is there to stop me, I put 4 shots of espresso in my cup......ha! You thought I was using cocaine - wrong, coffee my friend, coffee....same effect - no police.

Naoma stared at me as I stared at her. "What are you doing in MY store?" I asked her. She belongs in the rival store of 2nd and Bauman in Edmond. I go there when I see a few firefighters sitting outside on their plaza - that store has the best looking clientele in the city of Edmond being right across the street from the firehouse! "Making you an Orange Creme Mocha" she bantered - I was shot! Shot through the heart - penetrated by her words - captivated by the very thought of the mix - mocha, orange, creme.....fine. $3.90 - not a problem. I'll just do without lunch - we have to make choices in our lives. We have to set priorities. I could actually, if I thought about it - go on a Starbucks diet. 3 drinks a day - cost about the same as I would pay if I were on Jenny Craig or Nutrasystem - sure...why not. With all the money I'm saving by NOT paying for gas, I can walk 5-10 miles a day and do this thing right.

To date I have been to 278 stores across the nation. I have many, many, more to go. I smile when I think about it.

The Pillsbury Dough Boy!

I was inside this cab when I saw this huge white guy with a chef's cap wanting to share my fare - I punched the back of the seat and screamed "Let him in, I have so much to tell him", but the driver wasn't from America and he took off like a flash in the pan!

What you DO NOT KNOW, but I will tell you, is that my poor children, especially Ruby, have been subjected to my double talk, my fun-punning of the English language for too many of their young years. They were RAISED on my abilities to use words - for them, it has been pure torture. For me, it has been a challenge to come up with more words and more double meanings that can be contributed to my on-going obsession with the baker himself, Mr. Pop n' Fresh Pillsbury! (This one's for you Reu)

When I first meet Pop n' Fresh, he was no more than a pasty. His father, a sourdough from Long Island, and his mother, a rather prominent ladyfinger calling herself "E.Clair" were simply too delicious not to marry. They found each other sufficatingly delightful...making little Pop was never a question, it was a matter of perfect timing, perfect settings - everything had to ROLL just right. When it did he was such a little muffin! I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, and wanted only to take him home and keep him TOASTY in my kitchen. He's lived with me for years and he has one job - to torment my kids.

I remember the first joke my little friend told my son. "Hey Reuben", Pop n' Fresh called from the pantry "What's my dad do for a living?" There was no answer from the scared little boy trying hard to hide from the white image of a half-baked cook - "He's a cobbler!" Hahahahahaha, came the high-pitched laugh from the kitchen. Hahahahaha, he continued as he told another joke. "Hey Reuben" and he waited, but still no answer. "Why am I only 6 inches tall?" Pause - wait for it "I have a little shortening going on inside of me!" Hahahahaha

OH, I can see my boy's older eyes rolling now, but at age 4 he was a puddle of water in the livingroom - I would take my little 6 inch rubber guy out of the pantry and hide him under Reuben's pillow at night sometimes. He'd find him and I'd hear the baker flying into the wall with a thud! "Don't hurt me" I'd call out to Reuben in the night in the best Pop n' Fresh voice I could custard-up! "I can pay you a ransom in the morning, right now I'm a little short on DOUGH" and then he'd throw the poor toy out the window! I'd find him in the morning all marked up with magic marker, death signs covering his body. Its no wonder my son is as tough as he is today - can you imagine having to deal with this sick twisted piece of wheatgluten for years?

Well, all I have to say is this: Reuben, if you die in the WAR - Pop n' Fresh is coming to the funeral my friend, and he's going to do his best to get a RISE out of you. You'll TURN OVER in your grave from what he has to say to you for all the times you thought you BEAT him - you'll GLAZE over with embarrassment when he's finished...oh, Reuben just one more thing - what do they call Fort Wainwright in the heat of August? BAKED ALASKA!!! Gotcha!

THIS Year, Mother's Day is on Sunday!

Among other things, I hope the U.S. Army is able to teach my beautiful son that Mother's Day is (usually) celebrated on Sunday. I got the phone call, like I almost always do - at 2:00 in the morning my time on Saturday, May 12, because time to a REAL soldier, like Reuben, is non-existent. You're in it for the fun - he's no exception! "Happy Mother's Day, Mom!" he called out to me from the other side of the tunneled sounding receiver (he's considered overseas - Alaska). "Thank you baby" was my reply, and feeling that I should go ahead and inform him of the perhaps shocking fact that Mother's Day is actually celebrated on Sunday - this year, the 13th of May - I told him he was an awesome and incredible kid, and that THIS year Mother's day was moved to the 13th JUST FOR GIGGLES. I wasn't surprised that he WAS surprised. Baby Boy is like that from time to time - having NEVER paid attention to minute details in matters that don't matter - he's not a Mom, and we usually went out on Saturdays for dinner since trying to find a place on Sunday after church to dine would be impossible (especially while he was growing up).

"Hey, that's cool!" He said, "I can call you tomorrow too!" and of course, he did. I beat him to the punch this time - I wasn't asleep. I had been out partying with my good girls Niki and Kimi - hey, it just dawned on me, all of us have 4-letter names. We're so cool - Jude, Niki, Kimi, yeah - we're awesome. Anyway, we were eating hand-made pizzas at Cafe' Bauer, which, if you know the owners can stay open all night - and we were drinking good cheap wine, dancing, running around the house in our expensive underwear - HAHAHAHA, I'm laughing because I know the truth, but I want you to think we're hot. "Good Morning Baby Boy!" I said to my son, and I explained to him why I wasn't my ordinarily sleeping, kind-of-out-of-it Momself. He wanted to fly home and drive me to the house to tuck me in. Moms aren't suppose to be dancing with anyone at 2:00 a.m. - but he conceded that the girls were at least girls, and we were harmless unless we all turned at once on poor Chef Eric, who from time to time dons a little french maid's outfit to throw our pizza - he skipped this costume event last night, choosing rather a t-shirt and shorts for the appropriate 85 degree weather - yes, at 2:00 a.m. it was that hot in Oklahoma.

Mother's Day is on Sunday from now on! I wanted you, the readers to understand that it would be made official probably, and that CNN, ABC, CBS, MSNBC, all of the great networks, FOX, everyone, would be talking about it. Wait til next year you'll see - it'll be on a Sunday then too! My son was only mistaken this ONE time - and he's good because he actually wanted to call me again. He's like that....infact, he calls so often that I wonder sometimes if he has much to do during war time - he got his underwear stolen the other day, and a couple of pairs of pants. I told him it had to be the Russians! There's NO WAY another U.S. Army soldier would intentionally steal from a fellow brother. He thinks maybe the kid is shell-shocked, has snow-blinding from his Alaskan horizons - but NO WAY would a REAL U.S. Army soldier do something like that - unless: Reuben out pugled them, out ran them, out marched and out shot them, and they just wanted to see him running around the base all fuming and screaming - I would have put them in the freezer for a couple of hours personally.

To my son - I LOVE YOU! Go drive that tank Boy! Be the victorious protector you have always been, and know this - and I MEAN it - you, my baby baby sweetness of a man, are the reason I was able to celebrate MOTHER's Day each and every single day for over 3 and 1/2 years. YOU are my first. YOU are my heart. Call me anytime, anywhere, I will never refuse your love. Hooah!

To my daughters - PRECIOUS and beautiful little girls of 18 and nearly 17 years - joy comes not only in the morning with you, but always. You have enriched my soul, have lifted me, and have given me the power, the strength, the drive to be the person God Himself intended me to be. Without you there would be a void without hope. I love you both - and will forever.

Sharpton's Back Peddling!

EVEN I, ME - the mouthy one - wouldn't have been that stupid to say that Mitt Romney would be defeated by "...true believers in God". C'mon Rev. Sharpton - you're giving us Christians a bad reputation - again! I didn't agree with Sharpton when he called for Don Imus' immediate dismissal. I didn't think what Imus said was funny or in good taste, but we've all made bloobers and blunders that we regretted - and we couldn't open our mouths fast enough to retract the words! Imus needs a little management training - maybe a kick in the backside - sure, but to fire the man for words he didn't mean - said, yes, but didn't mean. Now Rev. Sharpton has put his foot squarely in his mouth (1) by saying presidential candidate Romney would be defeated for his personal belief, or perhaps his choice of religious community? (2) becuase he denied it! We saw the tape - hello, we heard you over and over again, because people in the media LOVE THAT STUFF...love to throw Christians to the lions, and in this case - deserved.

Have I ever been so stupid? Oh, HECK YEAH! I am certainly sure that if I had to think of the things I've said to or about someone's faith, their race, their world views, or their culture - my dissertation titled "Multiculturalism in American Education" would be thrown out without review! We're all idiots, we all say really, really, ignorant things. I just thank GOD that I haven't said it on air, and that NO ONE cares who I am - if someone cared, I would be swimming my way out of the Hudson for something I tripped over my tongue for last November when I visited my adopted city of NYC - I think I was on Broadway talking to an African American woman, a friend of mine now, and I said something so ethnic, so culturally rude, that when I found her staring at me in shock I was glad it was SHOCK and not SHAME...I hadn't back peddled like that in years.

So, what to do with Sharpton? Hell, what to do with Richards, Gibson, any of us? FORGIVE - but do it when we deserve it. When and if we're sorry - like most of us are when we realize that our personal lives, our environment, our upbringing, our engrained nature has relaxed inappropriately, and we make ourselves appear less or sound less of the person we wish we were, and more of the person we have so far evolved to. We keep trying....hopefully, peddling, and peddling, but maybe next time it won't have to be backwards - huh? Can we pray about that and believe it for a second? Saying we're wrong is hard - but lying about it only makes it worse.

Christians - follow Christ people. We're NOT Christ, we can't be. Cut us a little slack sometimes, you may find us pretty handy in case of a prayer need someday. (It's rumored we have a direct line you know.....to GOD Himself.)

OzzFest 2007 - Includes MY DOG (and Daughter)

I am actually not sure how much information I can give you about this concert event considering I signed a confidentiality statement with Brown Gravy Entertainment yesterday. (Hi Bryce!) What I can tell you is that the GREAT and Legendary Ozzy Osbourne will be hosting his annual Ozzfest (2007) beginning the second week of July and going through August. There will be over 20 dates and they are traveling in the usual manner - by bus.

The really cool thing about Ozzfest this year is that a very very special guest star will be attached to the WORLD FAMOUS and FABULOUS Brothers Grim Side Show! The side show is a group of extremely talented actors and performers who do more than just the average stage performances that you may expect from the retro age circuses of the 20th Century. Look up the Brothers Grim online and see some of the most incredible people you've every seen! You won't believe your eyes! Faith is not a member per se, she is a special guest, she appears with the side show on occasions and is always happy to do so. She loves Bryce, the manager, and will follow him to NYC! Wait, she's already followed him to NYC! (Hi Ken - Ken went too)

Faith may be a part of the reality show that will be picked up soon by a major network which will feature the side show as a real television event! You haven't seen anything until you see this show believe me - Survivor, Big Brother, none of the reality shows you've EVER seen can come close to touching the strange and bizzare acts you'll witness - and they're real - they really are real! The bus should be the most extreme place my dog or my daughter Laura has ever actually been - and to be locked up for 55 days or more with these people - well, I'm sure they'll never be the same - they'll be better! I bet Laura's singing career takes off too - she'll have a captive audience who may want to kill her by the time they pull into Denver, but hey, she's been in karate for a year or so - she can take them!

I'm sure you'll see more advertising about Faith joining the troupe with Ozzfest this year. Bryce has gone out of his way to make her (and Laura) feel as comfortable as possible. I just hope the poor residents on the bus can put up with Laura's pop music and Faith's constant whining "Are we there yet?" - "Are we there yet?" You think your kids are bad - please, that dog is the worst! She can fly great - no problems even when we land - a little yawn to pop the ears and she's good to go. I wonder though what Bryce was thinking when he suggested the bus as a means of transportation - he may wish he'd flown the mutt in for each show. Go to Ozzfest if it comes to your state and/or city. I won't devulge any dates or places, I don' t know if I can, but you can look it up online!!! Have fun and oh yeah, rock on! (I'm laughing, you can't see it, but I'm like totally falling out of my chair laughing over that one!)

OzzFest 2007 ! What a Trip.

Who says you can't have fun outside of the normal, outside of the expected? My dog and my daughters will be touring this summer on OzzFest 2007. I declined, I'm rather old and the thought of sleeping on the bus for 6 weeks didn't appeal to me - but hey, the girls are up for it. They'll split the gig 1/2 and 1/2. Laura taking the lead and doing the first 3 weeks, and let me tell you, if Bryce (Manager) puts her on stage - she won't give Caity a chance to be seen! If Bryce allows Laura to shine for 30 seconds on stage with anyone - anyone at all - she will die before she lets her little sister show up and take it away from her. Caity's hoping she gets on stage so she can show up at the fest and just hang out a day or two and fly back home. Truth be told, I'm sure Laura will be the tour-queen!

Faith is just one of those really talented dogs you see - she can make EVERYONE happy - screamer bands, no problem. She can do it! Her function is really cool too. She's a Special Guest with the Brothers Grim Side Show, a world famous performance group with the retrospective flavor of the original side shows from the faires of the turn of the century. They're amazing! Faith and Laura (and maybe Caity) will be available in the side show tent before the gigs to have their pictures taken with the audience - one at a time of course, but to express that Faith isn't always about seeing people in hospitals, schools, and military bases. She can love on ANYONE who is willing to be loved.

Wow - to think, my little girl may be screaming soon from the stage in front of thousands and thousands of people. Brings a tear...but I'm not sure if the tear will be for joy or utter shock when I see what Bryce has found for her to wear! I may just close my eyes and tell her I love her! I love you! I love you Laura.