Mystery Solved

I was wondering what that THUD was...?

Sorry, Larry.

Summer-isms, Vol. 25, Downton Abbey Special

These Summer-isms came from a 12-hour Downton Abbey marathon:

"We are all going to love her but she's going to die."

"Uh oh.  She's gonna be jealous and we're not gonna like her."

"Satan hears you when you say you're happy."

"I love how I called that miscarriage five minutes before it happened."

"I would marry any guy who was about to die any minute."

Getting Googled, Volume 8

I think it's easiest to just Google "Kady Hexum", or "A Lady Reveals Nothing", but there are other phrases that'll get you to this website.  Take these recent searches, for example:

• weird toenails
• oops panty moment
• meaning of thick toe nail
• sprained her ankle
• cowboy boots jeans mens
• girl forced to poop panties
• old drunk man
• pantypoop
• embarrassing massage stories
• fat ugly woman with thick glasses
• fingernail fungus cartoon
• front tooth decay filling
• girl squishy toilet
• pooped her slacks
• girl poops pants
• caught in peeing in porta potty
• blonde ice fishing

Keepin' it Classy

Sunday Favorites: OK!

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing?  You've missed SO MUCH.  Not to worry.  Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite.  Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day.  Enjoy!  This story first appeared on April 4, 2011:

Guess what this gesture means in Brazil? 

Like me, you might have assumed it means "OK".  Because that's what it has meant your entire life.  It doesn't.  It doesn't mean that at all.

Actually, here in Brazil, it means something worse than "asshole".  And somebody finally told me what I've been flashing around at them for eight days.  And as you can imagine, since I am walking around in a country where I CAN'T COMMUNICATE WITH ANYBODY, I've been flashing it plenty.  I guess I like to let people know I'm "OK".  Think about all the times you might use it, especially if you didn't speak the language.  For example:  'This food is great', 'I can see just fine from here', 'I got a photo', 'thanks for the beer', 'I understand', etc, etc, etc. 

SO.  Here's how to really say, "OK" in Brazil.  You simply turn your asshole on it's side, OK?

Or, just go with another old favorite.  (I wonder what this one really means?)

From the Hip

I was really enjoying myself on Sunday while snowboarding at Giant's Ridge.  Just me and the hill (we're not going to call it a Mountain.  I don't even know if it's really a Ridge) and some fresh, fresh air.

I ran into my old friend Janel from International Falls and we took a few runs together.  She said something about how she loves to snowboard, but was skiing that day because she's without health insurance.  And suddenly I realized I. DON'T. HAVE. HEALTH. INSURANCE.  What a way to ruin a great day.  From then on I couldn't stop picturing my leg breaking.

(Of course I had to put the kibosh on maneuvers like this):

Isn't that what you thought of, right away?  No insurance?!  What about LEG breaking?  You are correct.

_____

So I'm telling this story at work, and my friend Lori goes, "there goes your hip."    Hip!  Seriously?  Now I gotta deal with broken HIP jokes?

Friday Blog Love

I'm sending a little blog love this Friday to Stephanie of The Loudmouth Lifestyle.

Ain't She Cute?

What can I say?  I just love this girl's style.

Can We Just Talk for a Minute About Minnesota?

Yah.  Blah blah blah.  I haven't seen a Minnesota winter for two years because I've been TRAVELING THE WORLD.  We know.  Shut up. 

And, yah, the winter I decided to show up for is mild and beautiful and not-too-cold-and-not-too-snowy.  Whatever.  Who cares.  But can I please just get adorable for a second here and do some photos of me and my nieces and nephews playing BROOM BALL on my sisters pond?  (I'm maybe sort of only doing this post for you, dbs and Kerry.)

What?  You've never heard of broom ball?  You must live South of the Mason-Dixon line.  It's hockey.  But instead of skates, shoes.  Instead of sticks, brooms.  Instead of a puck, a tiny little soccer ball.  

A million years ago, my brother-in-law John dug a real life pond in his and my sister's front yard because he just really loves having a pond on his property.  Of course, in the winter it freezes over and makes the perfect hockey skating rink.  But when you have big hockey / skating parties, as will happen, the better skating professionals leave the kids and bad skaters in the dust.  Ever the fair and maybe-a-little-bit-conniving dude, these days John skips the skating and instead hosts several broom ball parties every year.  He says this levels the playing field.  He sprays the rink with hose water and gets it extra slippery so that everybody is slipping and sliding and trying to gain a little momentum to go running after the ball.  I say it's a little like Fred Flinstone, when he starts running ten minutes before he goes anywhere.

I also say it's good, clean, video-gameless, technologyless, Minnesota Winter fun:

My nephew Skeeter, picking out his broom.

Left to Right: Nephews Skeeter and Miles, Brother-in-Law John

L to R: Honorary Niece Khia, Niece Hanna, Nephew Skeeter

Nephew Miles

Bloodthirsty gang, trying not to fall down while chasing a ball.

(You do have to be slightly careful not to slip, do the splits, and break your crotch.  I spent the entire game laughing maniacally.)

Now why didn't his Auntie make him wear hat, mittens and a scarf?  Because it was SO nice out, that's why.

I *HEART* MINNESOTA

BROOM BALL is officially getting a "Currently Obsessed With..." tag.  

My Little Problem

So you know this little problem I'm having at my new place of residence?  I still haven't found a solution, though I feel like I've tried everything.  I run the water.  I spray tons of Suave into the air (the Suave that I thought was air freshener but turned out to be hairspray).  I light a candle.  I even wrote to Ask Hobo Siren for advice under the pseudonym "Stage Frightened" but got nowhere.

The other night my roommates/hosts left a suggestion/gift:

Aren't they sweet?

So Nice of You to Bring Your Little Brother

A few years back I went on a snowboarding trip to Colorado with some friends.  As we were trudging from the car to the chalet to buy our tickets, I noticed my reflection in the window of a car and saw a genderless, ageless little thing in a helmet and goggles.

"Aw nuts, I look like a little boy", I lamented.

We laughed.

Cory went up to the window to pay, and I was standing behind him.  "Two adults, one child."  he said.  I thought for sure the lady would be all, "HAHA!  No way!  That is a beautiful, voluptuous, professional businesswoman in her late twenties", but instead she just looked at me, nodded, and gave us the tickets.

I looked at the big sign.

"Child" = 12 years old and under.

Me.

Just kidding.  It's my 11-year-old nephew Miles.

Me.

Sunday Favorites: The Great Tampon Cover-Up of 1992.

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing?  You've missed SO MUCH.  Not to worry.  Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite.  Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day.  Enjoy!  This story first appeared on December 10, 2009.

When I was 15, my first friend to get her drivers' license was Krista.  It was SO much fun to go driving around in her little blue two-door car.  The freedom!  We used to do crazy things like sit on top of the car and loop our legs down through the moonroof and around Krista's headrest while she drove 65 MPH down the road.  Once I got hit in the face with a June bug but that's the worst thing that ever happened, thank goodness.  

Anyway, one day Krista I went to the beach with our friend Maija.  Maija called shotgun and I was in back.  On the way home, while taking a sharp curve on a gravel road, Krista got a little over-zealous and drove way too fast around it.  Suddenly it was like we were on ice.  The car fishtailed from one side of the road to the other.  I gotta hand it to her.  She kept it under control pretty good for a 16-year-old, but eventually lost control and we ended up driving down a steep incline and landing in a swamp.  I have no idea how we didn't roll at the speed we were going.  But we didn't, thank goodness.  The car came to sort of a slow rolling stop and at first only the front tires and hood were under water.  But then we started sliding and water slowly started seeping into the car.  We were screaming like teenage girls as it covered Krista and Maija's feet, then their ankles,  knees, my feet and so on. Scary! Maija had trouble getting her seat belt off.  If we had been upside down in a roll situation...I hate even thinking about that.  But -- all's well that ends well, am I right? (Too soon?)

She got her belt off, thank goodness, and we got out of the car and found ourselves in waist deep water.  I'm not going to lie.  I peed.  Come on.  I was already wet, and waist deep in swamp water, escaping the wreckage of a sinking car.  What would you do in a situation like that?

But that's not the point of this story. 

The point of this story is that Krista had a box of tampons in the back pocket of one of the front seats. Somehow, in the confusion, the tampons escaped their box and we found several floating near the car.  We had to go and get help, obviously, but we couldn't just leave the tampons!  People would know we had our periods!  And so, in an adrenaline filled rush to action, we decided the best plan was to shove them -- one by one -- under the car.  Problem solved.

We climbed out of the ditch and back up onto the gravel road.  We ran a mile down the gravel road with no shoes on and found a house and called for help.  (Oh yah, cell phones hadn't been invented yet).  Anyway, we were rescued.  Krista's parents were pretty cool.  Especially when we told them we were innocently driving very slowly down the gravel road and then suddenly we ended up in the ditch and we had no idea how that happened.

Later, Krista's mom told us that when the tow truck pulled the car up and out of that swamp, thousands and thousands of tampons emerged from under the depths and were released to float on top of the murky water.

Hal-isms, Vol. 22

"Kelly?  Number two?  What a piece of crap.  None of them compare to you Kady.  You're...you're like the whipped cream on top of a big turd.  It's like...I want to eat the whole thing, but would it be worth it?"



The following Hal-isms come to you in the form of some voicemails I will save forever:

"Kady.  I am truly sick and your mom is laughing.  At twelve minutes to one.  I can't take it anymore Kady.  Bye."  *mom laughing in background*

"Kady.  This morning I hear, 'are you ready for breakfast Sweetheart?'  Guess who she was talking to?  Me, or the dog?"

"I don't know if you remember me Kady, but when you were a little girl I was your father.  I'll try to call you back."

"Kady I'm just calling you back.  Anyway.  I should have let you tell your side of the stories.  I love ya.  Let's see.  What else?"

Friday Blog Love

If you're not already reading The Sartorialist, you should probably start.  Especially if you like looking at clothes.  And photography.

This guy sort of started the trend of street fashion by shooting photographs of people he saw.  Now he photographs in cities around the globe.  And maybe you can't afford the the high fashion in some of his photos.  It doesn't matter.  He also shoots regular people.  Anybody he thinks looks great in their clothes.  His site is a great gauge to copy with your budget finds.

I love his photos of dapper gentlemen on bicycles:

Milan

And his eye for the gorgeous, all around the globe:

Morocco

Scott Schuman. The Sartorialist.  All photos stolen from his web site.

Me and Animals. We're Like This.

Attention Animal Planet: I am pitching a show to you in which I try to interact with big huge scary domesticated friendly harmless animals. Because it's really funny.

 



 End of Pitch.

Old Journal Entries

February 24, 1989  

*6th Grade Journal, 11 years old.  Spelling and grammar errors included.

Broncos Won!!!!

______________

Last night our home hockey team, the Broncos go to state with a score of 7-1 that brought them there.  Grand Rapids is in the dust!

Jena and I were supposed to fight on Saturday and I think she chickened out she said I was chicken and that I never showed up.  I was there for 40 minutes!

My mom finished my new dress.  It's white with torquoise polka-dots there are buttons down the front and there are three ruffles.  The top one and bottom are solid torquoise and the middle one is polka-dots.  I'm wearing it to Shawna's wedding.

Keri moved last month.

Q.  Why did the buger cross the road? 

A.  He was being picked on

A man from Fort Francis, Canada drove all the way down to Omaha, Texas.  When he got there, there was a sign that said Omaha Left  *arrow pointing left*.  So he turned around and went back to Canada.

HA!HA!

Flat. Splat.

On Friday night, as I was leaving the office, I found a note on my windshield:

"CHECK YOUR RIGHT REAR TIRE."

So I checked it and it was completely flat.  I work across the street from a gas station so I decided to drive over there and fill it up.  I drove about five feet, and because it was zero degrees outside and the poor tire was frozen in it's flat position, it was a very clunky five feet.  I didn't think it was too smart to be driving even such a short distance.  So I got about again and was staring at the tire, when my Knight in Shining Armor pulled up.  This man offered to help me change my tire in the freezing cold.  He got the lug nuts off, but the tire wouldn't budge.  So he thought that maybe he needed some sort of a key to get the tire off.  I didn't know -- I checked my manual.  I tried calling the dealer.  I found the receipt for my tires and called the number.

The guy on the other end of the phone told me that, No, there was no key, and that it probably was just corroded and stuck on.

"Kick it!"  He yelled. 

I kicked it.  Nothing happened.

"Kick it again!"

I kicked it again.  Nothing happened.

"Kick it from behind!"

I went around the back of the car, while still on the phone, got on my back, crawled under the car and gave the tire an awesome kick.  The tire went flying, and I heard my Knight in Shining Armor yell, "Are you under the car?  You're an animal!"

Damsel in Distress?

Not this girl.

Later I was telling my dad that story.  

"Kady!  What if you had kicked the car off the jack?  You NEVER get under a car that's jacked up!"

When he said that, I got really shook up and realized I totally could have killed myself pulling that dumb stunt.  My dad said, "my heart hasn't beat once since you told me that story.  It just kind of tickles a little."

Kady Stupid.

Sunday Favorites: A Guest Post From my Mom

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing?  You've missed SO MUCH.  Not to worry.  Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite.  Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day.  Enjoy!  This story first appeared on May 10, 2009:

"So... I am feeling bad about not wanting a pet inside the house.  I'm  thinking that with no kids, what is wrong with me? I can handle a dog now. So I say to Hal when he is bringing home a new puppy, “Let’s try it in the house”. It ends up going pretty good. It is a German Wirehair, a medium sized dog with short hair. At night, when Hal is at work I let him sleep on the floor by my bed. The bedroom door is closed. Wonderful company. Hal though, gets home at 6AM and when he opens the front door, the dog begins to bark. I tell the dog to shush, but of course Hal hears the dog and is so proud he has a protective dog, he decides to test him out. So he scratches on the wall all the way down the steps. The dog starts to really bark. I am yelling, “Stop it!” Hal scratches on the door of the bedroom. The dog starts to REALLY bark and jump around. I am yelling, “Stop it, stop it!!” Hal starts doing a low growl, and now the dog is insane. Now it is on my bed jumping and barking. I am SCREAMING, "STOP IT!!!" Now Hal is really excited and having SO much fun, the dog is REALLY JUMPING and REALLY BARKING. Now the dog is jumping and barking on my head and I am getting WET. It is peeing and jumping and peeing and jumping ON MY HEAD and barking, barking and I am screaming mad, and Hal will not stop. I think I will quit the story here, you get the picture. That day the dog went back outside. No more dogs in the house….., that is until….to be continued."

The continuation being...of course...Rowdy.  My new little brother.  This photo makes it look like Rowdy doesn't get to come inside.  But.  He totally does.

...Even with that snow beard.

Who Wore it Best?

Who best wore this Old Navy striped sweater dress?


Rocquelle, of considermelovely.com...this week's Friday Blog Love recipient...

Paired with Black patent-leather platform pumps, striped belt, colorful bangles, earrings and necklace.

...or me?  Kady, of A Lady Reveals Nothing?

Paired with remote control, iron-shaped burn mark on inner calf, and open mouth?

Please cast your vote by commenting.

Summer-isms, Vol. 24

"I'm so glad I'm not psychotic."  (...reflective pause)  "That's probably the most self congratulatory thing I've ever said." 

"What if you opened a women's shelter just so you could stay there for free?"

"I've been trying to figure out all day why this finger is purple?"

"I just got gently used leather slippers for $2.50.  I wouldn't have paid a dollar more."


"Your blog is all about me this week."

The SL-Serc-hos

Speaking of Fashion Shows and professional photography...I'm feeling nostalgic for the high fashion workwear that Summer and I donned while programming water meters in Oro Valley, Arizona.  SL-Serco asked us to model for their fall catalogue.  We knew that we couldn't leave without documenting the fabulousness so during our last week together we made an appointment for a studio shoot.

You'll forgive the poor quality, as these are merely photos of the photos.  

All are property of Sears Portrait Studio.

Gloves.  Kneepads.  Radio equipment.

The jump shot.  Classic.

"Sir, my friend Kady here is looking for the flood."

Here are some pics of the whole Oro Valley (Tucson) crew.  What a bunch of great sports:

This is how we got at those hard to reach pits.

LtR: Summer, Tyler, Clayton, Kady, Nate

Our motley crew installed 1200 water meters and programmed close to 1400 radios in just six weeks.

A Little Minneapolis Hoity Toit for Ya

Summer and I put on a little make up and a dress and went out for the Avoid the Grey fashion show at the Grain Belt Brewery building in Northeast Minneapolis.  

Our friends Josh and Delayna from Cliche boutique produce the annual event.  The concept for 2012 excluded the typical runway in favor of large plywood boxes in which models stood and guests had to peer into small holes to view them.  There were five boxes with one change out-midway through the evening for a total of ten looks. 

We were surprised to arrive to a line a half-block long and about 30 minutes wait to get in.  Thank goodness for pleasant weather.  Summer's brother provided the music:  

Ben.  Photo stolen from Citipages.com

There was a very voyeuristic vibe to the aesthetic, and I must say when the models made eye contact with me, I felt like a true Creepy Starer.  The following photos are mine.

A professional photographer set up shop in the corner to take photos of the models and the attendees:

Recognize the little lady on the left of this next photo?  It's Danielle from Season 9 of Project Runway.  I chatted with her for a moment and she told me that she was there as a designer of one of the looks, (seen here):

Property of Andreasen Photo

Of course I was dying to have my photo taken.  You know, as an attendee of a fashion show event.  In my mind I would look just like a model because they have all the good lighting and what-not.  Summer refused.  She didn't know where the photos would end up, and what if your pictures turn out bad?  I begged.  And begged.  She wouldn't budge.  Turns out, once again, I should have listened to her.  On a night where folks showed up looking like a million bucks...

Property of Andreason Photo

...I threw my dirty, crumpled up $20-bill in the pile.  This is what happens when I TRY to look pretty, folks.  And it ain't pretty.  Within 24 hours these photos showed up on the interwebz:

Property of Andreasen Photo

Property of Andreasen Photo

If you're into videos, check this out:

For a Good Advice, Call...

Let's say you have a coworker whose name you do not know, even though you may have worked with him/her for several years.  Where can you go for good, solid, no-frills advice?

Ask Hobo Siren, that's where.

Send your pressing questions to summer@hobosiren.com

Sunday Favorites: Summer and the Snake Wine

New to A Lady Reveals Nothing?  You've missed SO MUCH.  Not to worry.  Every Sunday, I dig through the archives to repost an old favorite.  Mostly because I'm too lazy to come up with new content every single day.  Enjoy!  This story first appeared on May 23, 2010:

Would you drink this?  It's called 'snake wine', but it's actually hooch with dead reptiles and centipedes soaking in it.  The sign says, 'you can't leave Laos not try snake wine.' I could.  Summer...could not.