FRIED CLAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I do not do well making decisions under pressure.  I am not even talking about a “red wire, green wire” situation.   It could be as simple as being the last one to order when out to dinner with friends.  I hate that kind of pressure! Who wants to be the one holding up the order? My anxiety riddled self just pops out and I am all “JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL” the minute a waiter looks at me.

There are many times when I am at a restaurant and there is nothing on the menu that looks good to me. Unfortunately, I am rather picky when it comes to food…  I don’t mean to be, and as rule I try to hide it.  If I am the last person to order, whatever item I happen to glance at is what I order.

Which is why, I ended up with the worlds largest platter of Fried Clams.  An entire plate of just Fried Clams…All 5 lbs just for me…


Anxiety, you are a bitch, and your Trucker name is “Fried Clams”








Love in the time of cold sores…

Posted by Becky Boo on January 10, 2015 in Really? REALLY?!?!?!?!?!, The More You Knooooooooow, Uncategorized |

I, sadly, have suffered my cold sores my entire life. While in the fourth grade when we had to take Sex Ed I went home crying because I had herpes. (This was pointed out by very helpful classmates)

When I get stressed? BAM! My lip gets a beautiful bright pink neon flashing sign for a week or so.

Now, I know in the big, and really, little picture this is no big deal.  Until HG treats you like you are Patient Zero of the household. You know that scene in ET, when the entire house is cloaked off and the guys are all walking around suited up and no one can touch him and the poor little guy is just laying there?

The minute there are signs, he pretty much puts on a Hazmat suit and follows me around with bleach wipes and Lysol.  The same cuddly guy who generally would walk thru fire for me keeps at least a ten yard distance.

*insert Meatloaf singing in the background “I would do anything for love…but I won’t do that…* and by that he means me…







That’s no Death Star, that is dinner…


I have decided that as a somewhat intelligent individual, I should be able to create at least rudimentary meals for HG.

Thus far, it has been an interesting endeavor. 

It started  with awesome intentions, and then ends with a lump of pea jerky.  I had carefully released the peas from the can into the pot on the stove.  Then I got distracted by the movie on my iPad that was propped on the counter, and by the book I was in the middle of reading. 


HG  “What is burning on the stove”

Me “Nothing is burning, the  peas are in their own water, they can’t burn”

HG “There is no water left in that pan, you can’t smell that?”

Me “Huh…I don’t remember when I turned them on, that escalated quickly though huh?”

HG “You burned peas, that were from a can”

Me “Technically, they are just dehydrated, its like Pea Jerky”

HG “I am going to make a Pizza”

Me “Um, you are welcome for making dinner jerkface!”


My Spirit Animal is a Sloth

Posted by Becky Boo on January 9, 2015 in The Importance of Being Boo, The More You Knooooooooow |



Sloth 2


Hey There!

So, my idea of blogging to write again may perchance have gone by the wayside the last few months.   In My defense, I did get married a few months back and that did require a large percentage of my attention…(More on that later)

I was reading an article regarding spirit animals and I have decided that mine is a Sloth, or perhaps a Hare on crack; my best guess is that they had a baby.  So, a Rare? Rath? Sare?  Lets go with Rare.

I am either all in, or I just want to lay down with my pillow and perhaps nap a bit.  A teacher once told me that I am like a hiccupping butterfly, landing just long enough and then something else would catch my attention.  I don’t believe that I am bi-polar, but I can TOTALLY buy into me being OCD and in need of naps.

So gentle readers, I am back.  Drinks are on the right, blankets on the left and please leave everything in its proper place.


Boo’s definition of a Soul mate…

Posted by Becky Boo on January 8, 2015 in Uncategorized |

I have spent most of my life with an idolized version of what a soul mate is.   The perfect person who would be the Prince to my Princess.  It was a mash up of Danny and Sandy from Grease, and me and Don Johnson living in Miami.

What I have learned is that I was wrong… really, really, wrong.

Not in that it is necessarily a bad thing and I woke up one morning all “holy crap this is just so horrific”.  My realization was more like a “Oh, Yeah, this makes more sense to me”.  Hindsight is so 20/20…I hate it when my Mother is right.

The following is a list of things that yours truly believes constitute a Soul mate.  Yours is different, because you are not me and I am not you. (That totally sounds like a Beetles song.) However, the basic principles remain the same.

Also, the world would implode if there were ever two of me…it would be a disaster; trust me on this.


  1. Going to Taco Bell at 3:00 A.M because you must have a taco with extra cheese now.
  2. Rubbing your toes until you stop crying
  3. Doesn’t get irritated when you speak all the parts along with your favorite movie
  4. Pretends that you don’t have PMS
  5. Understands that you will never learn how to cook
  6. That you can fart in front of and laugh
  7. No matter how angry you are,  you would rather sleep next to them then apart
  8. Goes and checks out the scary noise you are convinced is a demon or someone breaking into the house even though they have told you a million times in the last hour it’s just the wind but they will go check anyway so you will shut the hell up and go to sleep
  9. Tells you when you are wrong
  10. Always has your Six

Take that Hallmark Channel







Another Ship Sails-From The Archives

Posted by Becky Boo on September 12, 2014 in Archives Of Boo |

The closer my wedding date gets, the more I think about my family that have passed on.  I know in my heart they will be there in spirit, and I hope they enjoy the party too.

I believe the spot that is left empty in the quilt that is your family never fills, and is never replaced.  I think we all just keep moving forward and remembering when.

Another Ship Sails…

Things seem to be more real once actions/feelings and moments are placed into the written word.  A daydream is nothing more than a passing few moments of joy or sorrow, not truly a reality.

Writing has always been my therapy, a way to neatly tuck and store anything and everything in my life so that it can be cataloged into its proper place.  I have tried several times to write this post, and each time, I have slammed the laptop closed and stomped my foot and headed for a glass of wine.

My cousin Richie passed suddenly on January the 7th.  He was a fabulous person and saying that he will be missed in an understatement.  A Son, Brother, Father and soon to be Grandfather, he has left a very large ache in the hearts of his family and friends.

For the second time in 10 months, I watched parents  bury their child.  It is so against how the natural order of things should be, that I wanted to scream, throw-up, yell at God, and curl up in a ball.

There is a circle in my family comprised of myself and my cousins that remember the small town where we all come from, life with our grandparents, summers up north, winters in the snow.  I was the baby and they were the cool kids I pestered to drag me along where ever they went.  We are one short now and stunned.

I could look at Richie and say ” I really miss them” and he knew what I meant, he knew my pain. His idea of home and mine were pretty much the same “Up North”.

I smile when I think he is with our grandparents now.  In my head and heart he just got back Up-North before the rest of us.  My Grandmother opened the door and Grandpa handed him a beer…

Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
Emily Dickinson

I am ready to meet my maker, but whether my maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.
Winston Churchill

For the record, death sucks arse.  It isn’t fair.

We all miss you Richie.


Richard Sutherby

July 27, 1967-January 7, 2009


Zombies, Clutter and Vows…Oh My!

Posted by Becky Boo on September 11, 2014 in Hallow Wedding, The Importance of Being Boo |

Zombie Bride



With impending nuptials heading my way, I have been giving allot of thought to my vows for HG.  I have a set that I wrote, that are sweet and kind of funny (if I do say myself) but I am wondering how much saying vows lead to chance?  I can vow to love you forever, but shouldn’t there be disclaimers?

  1. “I vow until death do us part, unless I become a Zombie then kill me and God speed finding a non zombie girlfriend”  “If you become a Zombie or try to kill me first, then I get to kill you too”  “If I haunt you, you can date, but not when I am around”  “When YOU die, you are mine again”
  2. “I vow to never leave passive aggressive clutter on the counter tops to upset you.”  Unless you make me angry, or I have PMS and you hurt my feelings.
  3. “I vow to always be there for you”  unless I am being held hostage, kidnapped, trapped under tree etc etc.


Call me jaded, but really, there are many interpretations that could be had here. Honestly, gentle readers, do I create a list of vows or simply say “I am your person, this lifetime and next” That is something I can Vow.  I will never hurt you on purpose.  I will never leave you alone.  I will always have your six.

(Unless, I am trapped under a tree or there is some Paranormal Activity shit going down in the house…)







From The Archives-The Importance of Being Prue

Posted by Becky Boo on September 10, 2014 in Archives Of Boo |

The below post is actually from 2011, it mostly holds true to this day.  What has changed?  I met HG.  Prue LOVES the HG.  In her mind I come first, unless HG needs her, then all bets are off.  I am not sure if I should take this as abandonment or a good sign of his character…

My official Co-Captian

My official Co-Captian


January 2011:

Prue has become my most valued sidekick.  I love all of my furry kids.  However, Prue is the one that is always with me.  She follows me wherever I got, listens to all of my stories without judgment, and can always be counted on to snuggle with me at night.  Everyone needs a Prue, esp when going through the process of trying to change your life.

Through all of my recent self and life evaluation, she has consistently been by my side.  She really is woman’s best friend.






Death by Yoga Clothes

Posted by Becky Boo on August 2, 2014 in Really? REALLY?!?!?!?!?!, Unsupervised |

YogaI have come to the conclusion that I should never live alone.  Why you ask? Is it because I need constant companionship? Nope. Apparently, when left to my own devices I always seem to find a way to create some form of dangerous chaos for myself. I am thoroughly convinced that my body would only be found when someone noticed a very weird smell coming from my home.

Case in point, yoga clothes.  I honestly cannot remember the last time my yoga clothes actually SAW a yoga class or any pose other than “Sleeping baby” and “Netflix Viewer”, but they are oh so comfortable. I wear them pretending that perhaps I may just drop into a pose at a moment’s notice, and become more Zen.

Stop by my house any evening and I totally look like I am about to go all Warrior pose on your ass.  Just ignore the fact I am most likely eating Cheeto’s and or drinking a glass of wine, maybe both at the same time if it has been been a really rough day…

I just get stuck in them, literally (The clothes, not the wine or Cheeto’s).

There have been many times that the HG has had to rescue me from being suffocated from a yoga tank that is somehow stuck on my face, arms stuck above my head or behind my back crashing around the house in a blind panic.  You would think that at my age I would be able to dress myself…


Me *insert muffled screams*  “HELP!HELP!”

HG “Um, seriously?” (as he pulls the tank down over my head)

Me “These clothes should come with warning labels”

HG “how do you survive when I am not here?”

Me “Am I too old to have a Nanny?”



From the Archives-A Simple Twist of Fate

Posted by Becky Boo on November 9, 2013 in The Importance of Being Boo |

How the Hell did I get here day…Oh, I have just lost count at this point.


I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason.  That the universe has a master plan for all of and every choice we make with our free will either leads us to, or away from our intended destination.  When life is going grand, it is of course much easier to see the good in everything and rejoice in our blessings.  When life is looking bleak it is much harder to try and understand why we are facing our current shitastic circumstances.

However, if we take a moment to ponder our life’s journey up until today, what  fabulous  adventures and people would we have missed out on had we not  had to climb up that hill or made it through that storm?  I would not give up a single experience because I do not know what it would have changed in my life.  How different I would be.  Where I would be.

Our scar’s and mended hearts should be worn proudly, badges of honor.  The fact that we get up in the morning and look another day in the face, even in our darkest moment is a true testament that as human beings, we are survivors. Just as the memories that make us smile should be given thanks for everyday. The fact that we experienced something that has given us joy.

The simple twist’s of fate that happen to us everyday should not be underestimated.




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