I’ve got a holiday gift guide to share with you.  Click Here.  Do it!  There are giveaways!  And you can register for something awesome.  Go there. Right now.

GO!

Shameless, I know.

This morning it’s raining, raining.  I can live with that.  It’s the cold weather that I’m not in the mood for.  Although, I am prepared for it.  Sort of.  Yesterday, we got our 35+, original-with-the-house-furnace replaced.  It runs like a dream.  On natural gas!  No more freakin’ oil tank to refill.  No more $1,000 heating bills.  We’ll be saving about $375 dollars this year.  I’m psyched.

I’m not so happy that I haven’t found a new winter jacket yet.  I just can’t see paying two arms and a leg for a nice winter coat.  When did I become so frugal?  Oh, yeah.  I remember now.  When the economy took a big shit and left American tax payers a $700 billion mess to clean up.  Thanks, Wall Street.  Thanks, Bankers.  Thanks a freakin’ lot.

I’ve been searching the ads, Kohl’s, Penney’s and Younkers, waiting for a Fabulous Coat Sale but nothing reasonably priced has been found.  I’m sure I’ll find something soon.  I hope.

Otherwise I’ll be one frozen mama when the dump trucks of snow fall in a few weeks.

Thankfully, Dawson is all decked out for winter.  He hasn’t grown much.  Last year’s coat and snow pants still fit.  He’ll need a new hat, though.  His head must have gotten bigger.   This might be why he’s so smart.  Big brain.  Haha.

Anyway, I’m off to do various things that need to get done.  Enjoy your Wednesday.

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* A $15 Amazon gift certificate is up for grabs!  In the comments, name the song my blog title is similar to and you’ll be entered into the drawing.  Must give me the following information:  Song title and who sings it, your name and an e-mail address I can reach you at if you win.  I’ll give you a hint.  The singers of this song are related.  Contest ends midnight CST on Friday, November 28th.  Good luck!

Click Here. You won’t want to miss this giveaway.

I’ve never blogged about this moment because it’s far too mortifying. The things we do in the name of a free Wii!

Two years ago in January, I decided to join a new women-only gym called Fit Zone. I was excited about working out every day, using the combination of weight circuit and exercise machines, and an added bonus was that men were not allowed to be members and gawk at all the ladies trying to get their MILF on. It was a perfect set-up. I could sweat like a pig in the company of women like me, and never worry about being self-conscious about it.

I worked out religiously 6 days a week for three months. I had bought new sneakers, a new workout top, but I was insistent on wearing my favorite, worn-in yoga pants. I called them my Magic Pants because regardless of how much I weighed, these pants fit me perfectly, and flattered my lower half in ways I never imagined. When I wore those pants my butt looked firm and my thighs looked slim. What more could a gal ask for?

One fabulous day in April, I donned my favorite workout gear and headed to the gym. That was also the day that I forgot to throw my “normal” undies in the dryer after washing them, so I had to wear my back up polka dot granny panties. I was going to the gym, right? No one would see them, so what did it matter?

I started the weight circuit first. The Fit Zone had a series of weight machines that worked core areas like arms, thighs, abs, and buttocks and I had worked my way up to doing three sets of ten reps. The last machine on the circuit was the leg press and it was my favorite. It looks like this:

To use the leg press, one must sit on it, legs spread eagle in the birthing position, and push 180 pounds of weight away from the body. It looks something like this:

Never mind the stick model. She’s having a bad hair day.

So I sit down on the seat of the leg press, set the weight to 160 pounds (because I’m a wimp) and spread my legs as shown in the illustration above. Then I proceeded to complete my first set. As I’m huffing, puffing and pushing (also similar to childbirth), I notice the gym owner, Gary, the only male allowed on the premises, staring at me with a strange look on his face. Since I’m in the middle of shedding pounds from my ass and thighs, I try to ignore the funny look.

Suddenly one of the female trainers, Michelle, walks over to me and whispers, “Hey, Dana…how are you….Ummm….so don’t freak out…but you may want to stop using this machine….because, Umm…..you sort of have a hole in the crotch of your pants….”

I could feel my face turning 27 shades of red. The embarrassment could have killed me right there.

“Oh. My. God. And…he saw….everyone saw….Gary…he saw….my granny panties? My favorite pants! They have a hole in them!” I didn’t know which was worse, wearing embarrassing underpants or discovering my Magic Pants were torn.

“Yeah….everyone in the gym can see the polka dot underwear, girl.” I could tell she felt awful as she was fighting back the laughter.

“Yeah….it’s laundry day,” I started. “At least these are clean!”

Now, because I had known Gary and Michelle for several months and had become great friends with both of them, it truly wasn’t as big of a deal as I thought it was. But when I walked past Gary on my way to the locker room and heard him sing, “She wore a pair of pink and purple polka dot granny panties…” to the tune of Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini, I became flushed all over again.

I ran into the changing room and noticed the hole in the crotch the size of a golf ball. I was mortified. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the gym. It was June before I got up the courage to step foot into the place. Thankfully, no one ever mentioned the incident again, but I’m sure they’ve never forgotten.

I’ll be at BlogHer later, talking about Green Republicans. Stay tuned for linkage.

And, how would you like some free money? Click the link to find out more!

**Update — Want to win a stylish area rug worth over $300? I’ve got details about this contest, here.

Okay, folks. I’m at BlogHer for the rest of the night. Do you know any Green Republicans? Stop by and tell me about them!

Women 40 and older are invited to form their very own singing trio to perform their own creative version of the Abba classics, “Mama Mia“ or “Dancing Queen“, as well as submit videos of their performances via the Pond’s website. The site features music and lyrics you can download to use for your rehearsals, too.

Here’s how it works:

1. Invite two of your best 40-plus-and-fabulous girlfriends to form a trio with you. Click here to send them an email.
2. Select and download one of the songs from MAMMA MIA! that are listed on this page.
3. Make a video of your trio performing your selected song and submit the video to us, online by April 30th.
4. If you prefer, you can attend the live audition in New York City on April 28th. To reserve a time slot, call 866-99-DYNAMO (39626)

The best part? The winners will score a lavish trip to London to live the life of three Dynamos at the world premiere of Mamma Mia! Official contest rules can be found by clicking this link. Submission deadline is April 30th.

“Jeez, but I’m feeling SO overwhelmed and I couldn’t possibly do ANOTHER cover!”

My darling husband couldn’t decide which of the entries he liked best, so I told him to put names in a hat and draw one.  He decided that he didn’t want to be the one to pull the winning slip of paper, so he enlisted Dawson’s help.

When Dawson reached into the hat and pulled out the winning piece of paper he yelled, “Abba Go Gabba Dabba” (we have been reading the same book for three days called The Magic Rabbit so this could be why) and Comment #3 was the chosen one.

Congratulations, Liz!

Thank you all for playing!

Okay, bloggy friends… it’s time for a contest.

Help me come up with a caption for this photo.  The reader who submits the best caption will win a $10 gift certificate to Amazon.com.

Submissions must be left in the comments, one per person, and please include your e-mail address so that I can contact the winner.  All entries must be received on or before Saturday, March 1st by midnight CST.

Don’t worry.  I will not be the judge.  I’m leaving that job up to the Hubs.  Y’all don’t want to know the caption he came up with.

So, get to it!