I’m a Sasha, and I have no idea what that is exactly, but that’s what I am. That’s the name my granddaughter gave me when she started calling me something other than gibberish and we could put actual sounds to it. Hey, it’s better than granny, nana or memaw so I’ll be a Sasha any day. You can’t be a Sasha, that’s just the way it is.
So, there’s me (Sasha), the Tater (a 8-year-old
terror brat princess blessing) and Mac (my hubby). Mac and I are raising the Tater and lemme tell you ~ that wasn’t in the plans, but we’re making it work.
Yep, I’m a grandmother ~ I know, hard to believe. But it’s true. I’m not exactly the grandmotherly type. Heck, I’m not sure I’m the mother type. Yes, of course Tater has birth parents, we’re just not going to talk about them here.
I write this blog because I have a real life that requires me to be calm, social, somewhat normal and rational.
Since I’m really none of those things and it takes all my willpower, strength and social upbringing to pull this real life off, I needed a place to cuss, throw sarcasm around and tell you what I really think.
Now I think I’ll have another margarita. And Lipstick….ah, my vice is Lipstick (well, AFTER the tequila and rum of course). I love lipstick! You know that stupid game people play where they ask “if you were stuck on an island, what’s 2 things you’d want with you?” and people always say A Boat (duh!) and some person they think they can’t live without?
Yeah ~ I always say lipstick and rum. Actually, my friends answer for me because they know that’s always the answer.
Hairspray? Well, I AM from the South and we gotta have some hairspray for all these fancy ‘do’s.
So, Lipstick, Margaritas and Hairspray was born ~ stop by if you’re in the neighborhood. I probably won’t answer the door, but keep knocking. I like to laugh at you from the living room.