Santa

I enjoy a lot of the things that Buzz Feed publishes.  I've groaned and moaned and cried and twitched to many of the 'lists.'

I've seen this one before but it popped up on my Facebook feed again:  http://www.buzzfeed.com/awesomer/people-who-are-really-nailing-this-parenting-thing

Read it.  I'll wait.

So imagine how bummed I was to find out I didn't make the list.  TWICE.  I offer evidence A and B.

Last Christmas.

Evan told Santa Claus that he wanted a REAL Pokemon.  Not a real figurine. Not a real video.  He wanted a REAL FREAKING POKEMON.

Santa got him an assortment of Pokemon essentials and left him THIS note (Evidence A):

Ethan was a little more specific with his desire of everything Dragon Ball Z:

Santa had to think on his feet for this one as well (Evidence B):

On second thought, I don't need to be on some list to know that Santa could take care of it all! :)

The Three Es

I'm an adaptable person...but often one the gets sidetracked by self-imposed intimidation.

Wait!

Backing up...beep! beep! beep!

Aside from a photo shoot for a German bike magazine when I was 19 - NO I don't have the pictures...UGH - the below pictures are as close as I've EVER gotten to being a 'biker chick':

I know...super super hilarious, right??!!  WTF was up with the side Pebbles ponytail??!!  And the pants that ride up to my boobs?  (You know I love you that I'm sharing these pictures HA!)  But look at how BADASS I am glaring at you over those dime store shades.  I. Am. JEN, MF.

And the term I used:  'biker chick'.  I definitely don't mean it to be derogatory... that phrase actually hums in my head...whispers like an offered promise.

It's not that I WANT to ride a bike.  Or be on the back of one.  It's just that, ya know, maybe I think they're cool with all of their confidence and what not.  Like, who wouldn't WANT to be Brigitte Bardot??!!

Holy hell she's hot.

Or Elizabeth Taylor...or Sarah Ferguson...

Which leads me back to the point of this.  There was a band I wanted to see...for ABSOLUTELY professional reasons only ;)  and they were playing a few Saturdays ago at a 'biker bar.'  I thought, NO PROBLEM.  I got this.

Dressed in what I jokingly called 'classy groupie' wear - short white shorts, Banana Republic top, black leather BLAZER. - Oh wait, I have a picture:

And SO missed the mark.  I waited in the parking lot until my GF got there because I was so freaking intimidated by the struts of the women and the possessiveness of the men.  What I  perceived to be a clique-ish atmosphere.

Dumb.

Dumb.

Dumb.

That was 30 minutes I spent being self-doubting that could have been used MUCH better.  As evidenced above, I shook my booty that night and met a gazillion great people.  What did we learn, class??!!  To expand, experience, and explore. :)