Beyon-say ''No'' to Beyonce's new Target Album....

Seriously, in no way am I a great judge of music. I can't honestly even say I know what I'm listening to half the time. However, I can tell you two things - First, I am a HUGE Beyonce fan. Second, mama didn't raise no fool and I know perfectly well when I am being lyrically accosted.


Personally, I think Beyonce is super-duper fly. If I could be anyone else in the world I would be her. Actually, she's a close second....the obvious choice being Charo. But, no one can be Charo but Charo, so it's a mute point. Back to Beyonce.
















Anyway, I am totally in love with her and so was naturally drawn in to the weird, vague commercials pounding network televion wherin she is pimping her new album only being sold at Target. I was running low on Archer Farms goods anyway so off to Target I go.




SUCCESS! I don't even have to search. The new album is situated right beside the $5 DVD rack at checkout so I grabbed it. I also snatched up "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" because....well, why not. I get back to the CR-V and I am so stoked to rip into this new CD and fist pump all the way home that I'm not even upset when I realize I already bought "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" and it was absolutely horrible.


I put my new CD in, got ready to get my neck poppin' ....and for the next 42 minutes my ear holes were beaten to death with sound. The best way for me to describe this completely unjustified flogging is this:




Imagine Phil Collins and Earth, Wind & Fire meeting up in an abandoned office building somewhere with low ceilings and really gross fluorescent lighting. Do you smell it? They decide to collaborate a mish-mash of the most incredibly un-natural sound ever and get Bel Biv Devoe to produce it. They pass along this disaster to Beyonce who clearly didn't listen to any of it before recording it and trying to ryhme words like "one" and "world" by just pronouncing them differently. Ugh!



I still heart Beyonce and guess the positive is her next album can only be better. Unless....you don't think Men Without Hats is still in the game do you?







http://www.arleebee.com/

Just 5 More Minutes....

Welp, we're coming up on another 4th of July. I love this holiday. What's not to love...charred meat, roman candles, Pabst Blue Ribbon, OH MY!

Two years ago I had the COOLEST 4th of July ever. My entire family met up in Bristol, TN and spent the whole weekend together. We never get to all hang together so it was truly a spectacle! The best part of the trip was when I got to go with my Dad to his 40th High School Reunion. It was hilarious - aside from the fact that everybody thought I was his wife (uh, gross).

Growing up, we absolutely lived for Dad to tell us stories from his high school days. We had a few faves we'd make him tell over and over but all of those stories involved his closest friends: Mickey Morton, Snake and Tony Morrell. July 4, 2009 I ate greasy, catered chicken and dry, scab-like macaroni and cheese with all three of them in the high school gym where my Dad played Basektball in tighty-whiteys and Converse high tops. I was in the presence of greatness and I will never, ever forget that night.

The next morning my family said their goodbyes and we all scattered back across North America. It was the last time I ever saw my Dad. He passed March 5th of the next year - 7 days after his oldest brother.

I called him on his cell while he and mom were driving back from Uncle Doug's funeral and I was joking about the High School Reunion. Mickey Morton had actually hit on me at that reunion- true story! He laughed that off and told me how much it had meant to him that I had gone. I'm not good with the gooshy stuff so I told him I only went because I was hungry and knew somebody would bring a ham casserole. That is also a true story, there was a ham casserole....and it was delicious. He passed away about 2 hours later.

After Dad died, all I kept wishing for was 5 more minutes. I just wanted a few more minutes so I could tell him everything that I couldn't when he was here. I wanted to tell him that Mickey Morton hit on me again at his funeral so when (if) Mickey ever gets to heaven, Dad owes him a black eye. I wanted to tell him that even though he wasn't always there, I knew he was always there. Most of all I wanted to tell him I loved him more than any daughter could ever love a Dad and that he had done his job beautifully. But you don't get 5 more minutes. You only get the rest of your life to tell the people that are left how much they mean to you every chance you get.

I'd say that's a pretty fair deal. Take advantage of it.

Happy 4th Everybody. Stay away from Mickey Morton!

http://www.arleebee.com/

And the Thunder Rolls....

I love storms, always have. I grew up in a brick ranch that had an attached carport (and an attached mold problem) where my Dad and I would sit and watch storms roll in. Looking back, it probably wasn't the safest place for a parent to take his kid during a storm considering we were exposed on three sides. But, I was the only one of his 3 kids that took him up on this challenge so it became a sacred ritual for us.

I am only on the subject of storms because we seem to be destined to have atleast one a day for the entirety of summer. Last night we were in the middle of a hellava storm when my son informed me..."I'm taking my shirt off now in case I'm hit by lightning." He went on to explain that it was his favorite shirt and he didn't want to get blood on it.

Understandably, as a parent, this poses a few concerns:

First, my son is uncomfortably at peace about getting hit by lightning - with the caveat that his favorite shirt is not destroyed by his own blood in the process.

Second, at the time of his un-shirting we were in the middle of watching " The Blind Side" on DVD in the upstairs Bonus Room. This says to me that not only is he strangely calm about the whole 'getting hit by lightning' scenario, apparently you can (and will) be struck down anytime and anywhere.

So, there I sat watching the storms roll in with my son - protected on all sides and shirtless. Apparently the shorts hold no favor.

Happy Hump Day Ya'll!
www.arleebee.com

My Co-Workers sniff butts....

My husband is an admitted (and very obvious) introvert while I am an admitted (and VERY OBVIOUS) extrovert. This Yin-Yang type of relationship is supposed to work gang busters, and most of the time it does. Especially since over the years Damon has slowly become more exroverted and I more introverted. I mean, I haven't danced on a dueling piano in atleast 8 months!

This gear switch was never more obvious than last week when my husband informed me he would be going out with his boys for a beer after work...again. I tried to recall the last time I had actually "gone out" with my co-workers & realized that my dogs had become my co-workers.

I work from home now and in every way possible my dogs have become my work people. I bitch to them about my day when things aren't going well. I talk to them about the family because, by now, they know them as well as I do. We eat lunch together - and sometimes I don't ask one of them to join us because they are doing something weird...like eating their own poop.

Plus, I'm just going to admit it, there is some serious nepotism happening in the workplace. I have talked to Maya, my mini-Doxie, about her attitude over and over again but I just can't see her advancing over Charlotte. UGH, that reminds me....it's Maya's birthday next week. I better get an office collection going so we can get her a card & cake. Just the other day I was talking to Ralph about the drama last year when everybody forgot. It was classic....

Good grief...I need a life!

A few "To-Don'ts" when it's 98 Degrees (with 478% Humidity)

It doesn't matter where you're from or how much you love warm weather or that I don't get what it's like to live up North. There is no denying that it is FREAKING HOT. Really it's gross hot. Smelly, sticky, moist, smothering hot. (Note to self: Call Waffle House for a new North Carolina inspired Omelette).

I have done several things today that I would not recommend you do in this type of offensive heat. Here they are, in no particular order, so you do not repeat this complete lack in judgment.

1) Do not try to enjoy hot coffee on your front porch. It's like drinking hot tub water while sitting in a hot tub - nowhere near as luxurious an experience as it sounds.

2) Do not try to brush out your dog's super hairy tail. The result is much like being tar and feathered...only it's "sweat and haired".

3) Do not run 2 miles at 1:15pm in the afternoon. I would actually not even recommed walking in this canned hell. If you can avoid going out of your house all together, just do that. The mail will still be there in the morning.

Since I was dumb enough to do all this, I'm going to cash in on a little secret my dogs taught me to cool down quickly. I'm off to find the nearest air vent and lay directly over it...grate marks be damned!

Stay Classy Raleigh~

www.arleebee.com

The Origin of Dog Freakdom

A large majority of my day is pretty much determined by two things...my son and my pack. No, not my righteous highlighter yellow pack of the fanny variety. That is a completely separate topic filed under "Ridiculously useful yet utterly embarrasing accesories."

My pack refers to my furkids: Charlotte, Ziggy, Ralph and Maya - listed in order from least to greatest pain in my ass. But, I gladly put up with it because I am a certified DOG FREAK!

Always having been an animal freak, my freakdom for dogs specifically developed around age 12. This was the first time I kidnapped a dog that was being grossly neglected. I single-handedly strategized the most clandestine canine shangai ever attempted by a 12 year old!

I waited until the people left for work, brilliant. Then, armed with nothing but a hot dog, I unlatched (UNLATCHED) the fence door (THE FENCE DOOR), unchained Chester and ran like hell (LIKE HELL). With the hot dog as bait, I lured Chester over. Immediately sensing my leadership skills, he naturally wanted to run away with me to certain safety.

Actually he was really sweet and pretty much just followed me home. That dog would follow anybody. In fact, he followed some dude who was walking one day and we never saw Chester again. I didn't say this story had a great ending, just where my dog freakdom came from.

After that first dog-napping and then subsequent failure as a pet owner, I realized two things. First, I wanted to save all dogs of the world and second, my parents are not dog people.

Stay tuned for a future blog, "How to love someone who is not a Dog Person: It can be done."

Happy Tuesday everybody, atleast it's not Monday~

http://www.arleebee.com/

PSA: For those of you who may be a wee bit hyper, I am in no way condoning kidnapping dogs....or anything for that matter. I was 12 and basically unsupervised. It was the 80's. Thank you for your time.

Arlee Bee? Does that like....sting you and stuff?

Over the past year, I've gotten a lot of questions about the name Arlee Bee and where it came from.

" ...is that a real thing? Seriously, if it's a Bee I'm super allergic."

"...what breed of dog is that?"

" ...so, are you like...an insect freak or what?"

".....did you know your first and last name ryhme? That's so awesome."


To my knowledge there is no actual "Arlee Bee" so you can put your Epi-pen away. It's definitely not a dog breed although I'm sure there will be some designer mix between dog and insect at some point. OH MA GAH....a teeny tiny dog with wings would look so couture, riiiight!!? Barf!

I am definitely not an insect person. I'm actually quite hostile toward insects most of the time. And last but not least, Arlee Bee is not my birth name. Although, I do agree that Arlee and Bee do, in fact, rhyme and also concur that rhyming is most excellent.

Nope, sadly the origin of Arlee Bee is much less exciting than any of this. My actual name is Rachel Leigh Bost. So, let me break it down:

R = Ar
Leigh = Lee
B = Bee

I know, that was devestatingly anti-climactic. BUT, get this....my marketing director, Addie, has a friend whose Grandpa's name is really Arlee!

Still nothing? Well, I tried!

Here's to making Monday as painless as possible folks~

http://www.arleebee.com/

Wow...Rescue is not for the faint of heart

It is 8:10pm and my day had revolved around the plan that I would have an Aussie Shep foster by now. I had expected that, by now, my 4 permanent dogs would be showing this newest addition how to manuever the hardwood stairs when the sound of any plastic bag rustles in the area of the kitchen. This, no doubt, means some sort of meat or cheese product will be passed out judicially among them. Learning how to get there as quickly as possible is of the utmost importance, you see.

It is now 8:13 and I have no foster. What was shaping up to be a wonderful success story has now turned into another case of crossed fingers and hopeful prayers that a dog in need will find his (or her) way to a deserved forever home.

I am not an organized rescue, nor do I ever plan to be. We are just a household of very loving two-legged and four-legged creatures (also, 8-legged if you count our three hermit crabs). We lost our dearest girl Sophie about 2 months ago and, as planned, my husband and I decided we would fill any voids with Foster Dogs moving forward. We tried in vain to do that today but the ignorance of humans makes some things un-possible (yes that is a word, see: Ralph Wiggum).

Just keep your fingers crossed for a shaggy black dog named Auburn and maybe, juuuuuust maybe, everything will be put right.

How you become a Foster on the fly.....pantless.

Yesterday morning, I had just dropped my son off at Camp and was back home deciding which pair of Yoga Pants would most likely pass as "everyday wear" when the phone rang. I answered Hello and the frantic response was..."I have a dog who needs a Foster."

Let me preface this by saying we have 4 permanent dogs of our own & collectively have 14 dogs among our extended family, all within a 6 mile radius. We are dog people. So, when my sister-in-law called with the news of a foster, I was not surprised. I was a bit chilled because I hadn't quite made my Yoga Pant selection and so was still standing in my underwear.....but not surprised.

The deal is this, a family is being evicted today and having to relocate to the coast. They have three dogs and only two could go so this last little guy drew the short straw and was on his way to the pound this morning. After seeing his picture, I could already tell getting him adopted via "the pound" was not happening. He is a mix of everyday black dog and would never have stood out among the sea of needy pups in lock-up. Very sad indeed, but also very true.

Enter the Dog Freaks!

Choosing not to finish the clothing decision due to the pressing nature of the situation, a call was made to my husband from his pantless wife asking for permission to give this guy a shot at a forever home. Amazingly, he agreed (I love that man) so around 8:00pm tonight, I will have my hands full with dog introductions.

Hmm.....I wonder which pair of Yoga Pants would most likely pass as "Dog Intro Wear."

You have a BLOG? Here, rub some windex on that.

So, I am 33 years old and this is my first true BLOG post. My Marketing Director, Super-Fly Addie, told me I needed to start Blogging so folks who love Arlee Bee will get to know me better. This will somehow get more people to check out the Arlee Bee website and will presumably make us all Oprah rich. Having this discussion with Addie made me realize I have fallen (technically speaking)... and I'm not sure how to get up.

I mean, my generation actually used Encyclopedias to look up information. We had to learn how the Card Catalog at the library worked. Now...I'm pretty much the only adult at the YMCA pool who is still reading a book with paper components. I don't even own a smart phone and thought Twitter was a deragatory term for lady parts. In fact, the cell phone I do own can be likened to the JitterBug cellphone for Seniors.













However, my lack of tech savvy in no way impedes my keen fashion sense or my ability to create bad ass pet gear so no worries there friends. No, my short comings will only result in all this collar creation know-how going completely undiscovered by the majority of the free world. Clearly that would be disasterous so I must do all I can to remedy that situation. So, here is my first blog.....go on now, go check out the site!