You know, I really hate to brag, but sometimes I amaze myself; so much so that I have nicknamed me….  Ms. Amazing!!  Yep, pretty dadgummed amazin’ awright.

So far this week (what? it’s only Tuesday?!) I have managed to crash, I say, totally crash my Mac.  White screen.  Snow.  Christmas is coming soon.  Better watch out.  Better not shout.  (See how my amazing mind works?)

Oops.  Too late.  I’ve been shouting, screaming, kicking things, and just generally behaving in a manner unbecoming Ms. Amazing.  When I’m not standing around staring into space, that is.  Well, that used to be my nickname:  Spacequeen.

Once when my children were all small, my mother called.  As we were talking, one of the boys did something, so I had to tell Mom to hold on a minute, laid the phone down, and took care of the problem.  A little bit later my mom came through the front door grinning ear to ear.  “Did you forget something?”  No, I don’t think so.  Then Mom proceeded to go pick up the telephone receiver and hang up the phone.  Gee, I hope I didn’t use ugly words while she was waiting on me to realize I had left her hanging, on my last word so to speak.

Sunday night I stayed all night with my seester.  (When my hair is longer and curly, people think I am of Southwest descent.  What’s that mean, anyway?  That I can speak Spanish as in seester?)  We had decorated her tree and put some Christmas things up.  Since it was foggy, I just stayed planning on getting up when they get up around 6:00 or so and going home to get ready for work.  The extra bedroom is very dark and away from noise; good sleeping.  I started waking up, thinking I would wait for Dar to get up, but feeling rested and that she should be getting up soon.  My cell phone rang and I jumped up to get it.  As I passed through the kitchen, I looked at the clock.  9:40!!!!!  WHAT?!  Where was Dar?  I soon realized work was calling me wondering Where is Bren?  So I threw on my clothes, whizzed home, and got ready in, oh, three minutes.  Such a lovely start to the week.

Come to think of it… that used to happen in high school too.  I would take my makeup to school and scrunch down in my seat behind the kid in front of me to put on makeup.  Ms. Beasley never even acted like she saw me doing that.  She was one of my favorite teachers.  Now… I just wash my face with a wash cloth and hightail it on to work.

The night I stayed with Dar and slept so soundly in the dark room, I had this sexual dream about our little state’s attorney.  I couldn’t wait to tell him.  He’s this cute little thing younger than my children, so I knew he was going to be so excited and delighted.  When I told him we kissed in my dream, he said, “Well, how was it?”  “Sort of like kissing my brother would probably be, weird.”  Then I went on to tell him that there was this really hunky stud muffin that was in the dream too (I think it was the defendant from last week).  Our little SA said I had, in all of three minutes, totally deflated his kissing ability and studly quotient.  Only Ms. Amazing can take ’em down that fast!

I’ve been asked on many occasions, “Are you sure you’re not blonde?”  (Sorry blondies.)   In fact, there is a great possibility that I am blonde.  After all, my middle name isn’t really Kay… it’s Ray.  I found that out when I got my certified birth certificate to go to Mexico many years ago.  I told my Mom, “Hey, did you know my name is really Brenda Ray?” “No, it isn’t.” “Yes, it is.  It’s right here on my birth certificate.”

So you see, I’ve been living under a false pretense of rightness gone wrong when actually it’s been wrong all along.  From day one.  My life was destined to be one screw up after another.

I think I like me with blonde hair.  I look pretty amazing.