Rachel Callahan

A Decree to All Imaginary People Wishing to Live In My House.

April 26, 2010 Rachel Callahan Just My Luck

Dear Imaginary Friends (that also go under the aliases of “The Girls” and “The Princesses”),

I understand that you are a normal part of childhood development, and I’m not freaked out by your presence. However, I’d like to set some ground rules with you.

1. Please don’t make my child cry because of how sad you are.

2. Especially right before naptime.

3. At said naptime, if I go downstairs to get you because you’re sad that you got left on the couch, please then hurry up and make up your mind once we get back upstairs as to whether you want to sleep in the floor or the bed. Quit being so wishy-washy.

4. And don’t change your mind once I leave the room.

5. You are ESPECIALLY not allowed to change your mind mid-nap, thereby waking Ali up to tell her that you need to be moved. By me.

6. Bottom Line: Naptime is a precious time. Don’t mess with it. Or you shall find yourself kicked out, sitting on my imaginary doorstep.

And no, I don’t care if you ARE princesses. You’re not running my household.

p.s. – please also quit tee-teeing in your imaginary big girl panties. Your imaginary pee makes an imaginarily horrible mess.

Ali’s Top 10: Vacation Edition.

April 25, 2010April 29, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Free Family Vacations, Kids: The Experience., Yes I'm a beach bum. What of it?

10. Making biscuits with Pop..

In all shapes…

Even if she DID have to share the fun with Eli, or as she named him for the weekend, “The Short Friend With the Curly Hair.”

9. Pillow fighting with Gramamma, Nick, and The Short Friend With the Curly Hair.

8. The Tide Pool, also known as God’s Beach Present for Toddlers…

If not for Great-Grandmothers who didn’t want to cross it.

Even if the men DID offer to carry her across, in her chair, Arabian-Nights-Princess-Style.

7. Cousin Play. I don’t think she realized how fun cousins were until this trip.

Tessa was great, but Especially…

6. The Short Friend With the Curly Hair.

5. Helping Nick with his Sand Fort,

And then, after being abandoned by Nick, renaming it Cinderella’s castle, and working tirelessly on its culmination,

building alone most of the time, but bringing in contract labor every now and then,

Including getting everyone to pitch in for emergency moat-building relief efforts as the tide threatened the castle.

4. Learning how to fly a kite.

Even if the kite didn’t ALWAYS participate in said flying.

3. Having four generations of people to choose from, depending on one’s mood and desired activity.

2. Running up and down antique stairs while pretending to be a Confederate Princess.

And finally, Ali’s Number One Vacation experience,

1. Getting to see the much-discussed Yucky Bubble Gum Pole live and in person. The shock and awe of such a Grand Life Experience is completely overwhelming for such a tiny person.

The Event started with naming all of the colors..

(Including black. Who chews black bubblegum?)

Being a bit disgusted by the amount of germs housed on that one piece of downtown log,

And then a little bit more disgusted…
And finally, the thrill of the experience set in. Yes, the Yucky Bubble Gum Pole was most definitely the Bright and Shining Vacation Moment.

Proper Vacation Bathroom Etiquette.

April 24, 2010April 29, 2012 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Free Family Vacations, Quirky quirky quirkiness, The Blissfulness of Life, Weird Strange and True, Yes I'm a beach bum. What of it?

This is a conversation, of quite the typical variety, that took place last night.

Important note: My parent’s bedroom and my Grandmother’s bedroom share a bathroom that is in between the bedrooms.

(Dad heads to the bathroom)

Mom: “Hey Vic…”

Dad: “I’ll be back. I’m going to the bathroom.”

Me, being sarcastic: “But Dad, it could have something to do with the bathroom!!”

Mom: “Actually, it does.”

(Dad does not stop.)

Me: “What in the world do you need to tell Dad about the bathroom?”

Mom: “Well, Mammaw and I were discussing about how to know if someone else was in the bathroom so we wouldn’t walk in on each other, and Mammaw suggested that when she finishes, she’d open our door, and when we finished, we should open her door. But that could be worse, since then our doors would be opened all weekend, and we’d not know if we should open each other’s door at that moment. So after we talked about it for a while, I suggested we lock the doors when we’re using the bathroom.”

Me: “So let me get this straight: You were going to tell Dad that he should lock the bathroom door?”

Mom: “Yes, since that’s how we decided we’d handle that.”

Me: “This is going to be really fun to watch.”

(Dad comes out of the bathroom)

Dad: “What were you going to tell me?”

Me: “You really need to hear the whole story first.”

(I repeat the explanation of the extraordinarily detailed discussion pertaining to bathroom sharing.)

Dad: “So … you were going to tell me to lock the bathroom door when I’m using it??”

Mom: “Yes.”

(Dad’s eyeballs roll out of his head, fall on the floor, and roll out the door. Just like the meatball on top of spaghetti.) “I think I could have figured that one out on my own.”

These are the conversations that make family vacations blissful.

A Lazy Beginning-Of-Vacation Post.

April 23, 2010April 29, 2012 Rachel Callahan Free Family Vacations, The Blissfulness of Life, Yes I'm a beach bum. What of it?

So this is a totally sub-par blog post made up of pictures and mere snippets of commentary. But hey – I’m on vacation. Lazy is what you get.

Plus, no one has done anything terribly interesting yet. As soon as they do, believe me, I’ll let you know.

Backing up to Wednesday morning, Oreo had the pleasure of staying at the Vet during our trip, which required a car ride – something she hadn’t done since she was a much smaller cat.

She wasn’t too excited,

but she quickly remembered and managed to claw her way back to how she used to ride – when she was that much smaller cat.

Ali found this highly amusing…

Oreo wasn’t too appreciative of Ali’s entertainment at her expense…

And I was just regretting my choice of a black shirt.

We stayed overnight last night in Augusta, Georgia, for the purpose of splitting our seven and a half hour trip.

Or maybe because they have a Wing Stop. One or the other.

Ali is learning to enjoy Wing Stop as much as her Daddy.

Especially, apparently, the Ranch Dressing.

And wasn’t EVEN ashamed of being caught.

Once we got into Charleston, there was no way we wouldn’t stop and visit with my dear friend Barkley and my Godson Woods, and, for once, we actually got a picture together:

We arrived at Folly Beach a few minutes before check-in, so we took Ali down to see the amazing, shell-covered beach:

She was a fan, but only of the non-shell-covered parts.

I think Ali might have been a WEE bit disappointed that when we finally arrived at the house, and no one else was there yet. The concept of “Getting here first” and “They’ll be here when you wake up from your nap” just don’t feel very vacationy to a three year old.

But sure enough, after naptime, Ali’s Vacation Paradise was complete: Cousins and Grandparents and Uncles and an Aunt and a Great-Grandparent Galore.

I’m pretty sure she’s going to refuse to ever leave.

Free Vacation! With No Timeshare Seminars Required!!

April 21, 2010April 29, 2012 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Free Family Vacations, Just My Luck, The Blissfulness of Life

We’re leaving today for our annual family vacation, which is sorta-kinda free. Which is more than sorta-kinda awesome.

Here’s how my family does it:

Instead of buying Christmas presents, Birthday presents, Mother’s Day presents, Father’s Day presents, or any other sort of gifting that should normally take place in a family, we deposit all the money that we would have spent on each other into a joint savings account. Then, once a year, we take a vacation all together, using only that money.

Also, we rotate whose year it is to pick the location, find the perfect house to stay in, and organize all of the little details.

We’ve been doing this for 8 years, and so far, we’ve gone to:

2003 – Gulf Shores, Alabama (our pick)
2004 – St. Augustine, Florida (my favorite location yet and JC and Lindsay’s pick)
2005 – Blue Ridge, Georgia (Mom and Dad’s pick)
2006 – Lake Weiss in Alabama (our pick)
2007 – Indian Pass, Florida (JC and Lindsay’s pick)
2008 – A year off (We just couldn’t get it together)
2009 – Chattanooga, Tennessee (Mom and Dad’s pick)
2010 – Folly Beach, South Carolina (our pick, and where we went last year for our anniversary.)

We always have a blissfully wonderful time together, except that I tend to have somewhat catastrophic-ish things happen on or before family vacation because of my stellar luck, such as:

2004: It was a week after a hurricane, and the hotel we stayed at on the way to St. Augustine had been flooded and horrifically mildewed. After breathing the nastiness all night, I was struck quite ill for the rest of the week from the evil spores that took up residence in my lungs. But I didn’t let it stop my great time!

2005: Was right after my first foot surgery, and I released myself from the chains of crutches a few days early for said vacation. However, staying in the mountains with a freshly filleted foot didn’t mix too well. I MIGHT have let it stall my good time a wee bit…

2007: I had the most unhappiest, cryingest, screamingest baby ever. And it was our longest car trip. And my Grandmother rode with us, which made me feel awful for her sake to get to hear her Great-Grandchild scream incessantly for 9 hours. Each way. It most definitely took some of the fun out of that trip..

And I’m pretty sure it convinced JC and Lindsay never to have kids.

Thank goodness they changed their mind.

And thank goodness that Ali got much more enjoyable.

This year, though, there shall be no catastrophe!! I have non-mildewed lungs, no recently removed body parts, a happy three year old, and I shall enjoy myself to the max!

I’ll be posting about our trip on my adorably cute baby laptop that Chris gave me last weekend.

(Which is so cute and cuddly just like a puppy or bunny that it really deserves a name – any ideas?)

So, go ahead and convince your family to all quit buying each other gifts that you might or might not have to return anyway, put your money in an account, and steal our idea for gift-funded family vacations! Just try to avoid fungal spores, foot surgeries, and screaming babies for maximum enjoyment.

Escaping From Aldridge Prison.

April 20, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Just My Luck

I, along with my friends Ashley and Lydia, lead a LifeGroup of High School girls together. We’ve been with these girls since they were sophomores, and now they’re about to graduate. We’ve formed some tight bonds, and now they’re all moving away and leaving us to go to college.

(sniff.)

But despite the fact that we are supposed to be mentors, we always seem to get our girls into trouble.

Take our frightening run-in with Pauline Blart, Mall Cop, for instance.

And then there was our latest experience.

At our last meeting, we decided to go to Aldridge Gardens, a beautiful community botanical garden. We were sitting along the lake, looking at God’s beautiful creation and talking about Godly stuff and being, in general, model citizens.

And then HE rolled up in his golf cart. A very grumpy older gentleman in a security uniform. He glared at us accusingly.

You would have thought he caught us pulling up his precious flowers or feeding the baby Geese rat poison.

He barked quite loudly in our general direction, “The gates are closed and locked! Unless you want to leave right now, you’re going to have to call the police to let you out!” Then drove off in his little electric car in a huff.

We looked at our watches.

7:05 pm.

At which point we vaguely remembered that the gardens closed at 7:00 pm.

Oops.

We walked as hurriedly as we could back to the main entrance, thinking that he was going to be there waiting to let us out. After all, he did say “Unless you leave right now…”

However, before we got there, we saw him driving off in his power trip cart in the other direction, assumably looking for more derelicts.

Surely he left the gate open for us to leave…

He did not.

We arrived at the wrought iron gates, and they were all quite shut. And padlocked. We wiggled them. We searched them. They were most certainly locked.

We looked around for HIM – still nowhere to be found.

So we did what any really-gotta-pee-because-we’ve-been-outside-with-no-bathrooms-for-hours and desperate-to-leave-before-getting-yelled-at-again group of girls would do: we found the lowest part of the fence and began climbing over, one at a time.

Amy made it over fairly easily despite her dress, Cara, being a bit shorter, was getting some help from Lydia, as can be seen. Then Lydia hopped over.

Next was Ashley. Ashley wins the award of the tiniest of all of us, at 4 feet 11 inches.

She tried. She pushed. She grunted. Her leg, when over the fence, couldn’t even bend, let alone help hoist her over.

Everyone was over but she and I.

Lydia yelled out to me, “Give her a boost over!”

I felt awkward. “Ashley did not give me permission to touch her butt. Unless she does, I shall NOT push her over the fence.”

Ashley stayed silent. I took her silence as a decided UNpermission to touch her butt.

After trying for a minute more, she decided that she was most definitely too short to make it over. And, at the same time, We saw Grumpy headed back towards us.

Ashley ran back to him to ask him as sweetly as possible to let us out.

She tried joking with him to lighten the mood. “They made it over the gate, but being that I’m four feet eleven, I need a bit more help.”

“They could be put in jail for climbing that gate!!”

Ashley, still trying to lighten the mood (and keep her friends out of security-guard-jail), “Well I’m glad I wasn’t able to jump the gate, then!”

He grumbled under his breath.

When they finally made it back to us, he very aggravatedly opened the gate.

We all politely and profusely thanked him. “Thank you so much, sir!!! We won’t do it again!”

”Good!”

We hurried to our cars before he could call the cops on our suspicious selves, but then talked for a minute more. We ARE girls, after all.

He stormed out to his truck and began circling us in the parking lot, eying us as if he were a buzzard and we were a dead gazelle looking perfectly ripe for a post-seven-o-clock snack.

And that’s how we found ourselves running as fast as we could to our cars before one of us had to call some parents to explain how we managed to get their model-citizen-high-school-daughter arrested.

Because that’s what good mentors do.

Proper Smockcessorizing

April 19, 2010July 30, 2011 Rachel Callahan Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Smocktastic, Toddlers: The Experience, Utter Silliness

Since I had to go and overanalyze the Practices of Smock a few weeks ago, I got schooled in how to properly accessorize The Smock yesterday while I was working in the nursery.

By a one year old.

Evie, who was proudly wearing a very classy smock, taught me the new, modern smockcessorizing practices.

It’s not the bonnets anymore…the Modern Baby just isn’t interested in looking like they have a miniature bed-skirt tied around their head.

It’s not the lacy socks either. They itch, after all. And they make you look like a baby.

Nope, not even the patent leather shoes. The Modern Baby desires more of an edge.

According to Evie, the latest and greatest smockcessory, guaranteed to make sure everyone know that you can wear smock and still be Badd, is….

A tattoo.

That’s right. Smock just isn’t smock unless you’ve got a thigh tattoo to compliment it.

Especially one that won’t scrub off before church, no matter how hard your Mom tries.

There’s just no better accessory to say, “Don’t mess with me, even if you DO think I messed in my diaper.”

Destination: Unknown.

April 18, 2010 Rachel Callahan Delicious Greekness, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, The Blissfulness of Life

Friday morning, I woke up to find an empty suitcase with this note on it:

It was quite exhilarating – I have never received a note like this before!

Well, the surprise we’re-going-out-of-town part, anyway.

But the thought-out, typed-up, appropriately-bolded, planning-for-my-aggressive-curiosity-and-telling-me-not-to-ask-for-more-details part – oh yeah, that’s my husband.

Ali was quite thrilled with this development also, and kept telling me all day, “I want to stay at Grammama’s a LONG time, okay? A LONG TIME.”

“Okay.”

“A LONG time, Mommy. Alongtime.”

I asked her where she thought Daddy was taking me, and after putting some thought into it, she said, “I think you’re going to Sweden….or Outtakes Deli. I’ve been to Sweden. It’s a pretty place. You can splash your feet in the water.”

I packed according to the detailed specifications laid out for me, with one qualifying question: Would I need a pair of sensible shoes?

After trying to understand my definition of sensible shoes and when I would or wouldn’t find sensible shoes a necessity, Chris decided that no, I did not need sensible shoes.

Thank goodness. I look horrible in sensible shoes.

We headed East. That immediately ruled out a few places I had on the possibilities list, including the Alabama A-Day game (which would have been more of a surprise date for him than me), the Tennessee Mountains, and, quite obviously, anywhere south.

I re-evaluated the options of our destination with each turn and each exit we passed. It was quite the intellectual stimulation.

Not too long into our trip I realized that we must be headed for our favorite “date” city, Atlanta. We arrived at a hotel on the same block as the location of our grandest adventure ever, the one where we lied our way to the roof of an under-construction Atlanta skyscraper – and managed to accidentally lock ourselves onto said roof.

However, since our mugshots are probably hanging in the Security Guy’s office under the heading of “threats”, I figured we wouldn’t be repeating that adventure.

We left for dinner and headed in the general direction of our favorite restaurant, Taverna Plaka. But then things started looking very unfamiliar.

Our destination, although lacking in Chris belly-dancing, had so much more of everything else. We went to Kyma, another Greek restaurant; one that we’d never been to before.

And I’m pretty sure I ate the best meal of my entire life.

But that didn’t happen until after doing a bit of proposal coaching.

When we walked into the restaurant, there was a guy nervously talking to the host, who was apparently a friend. The host held out his finger to us and said, “What do you think?”

We looked at the way-too-small-for-his-manly-fingers diamond ring and gave the obligatory oohs and aahs.

He nodded toward nervous guy. “He’s about to propose. In just a few minutes. We’re planning it now.”

Nervous guy looks at me and says, “We’re here with both of our families. I’m thinking I’m going to have it in her champagne glass. What do you think?”

I immediately realized that a guy that is mere minutes away from proposing doesn’t REALLY want my opinion, he just wants my affirmation. Which is what I gave him…kind of.

“That sounds fun…as long as she doesn’t swallow it.”

Had he wanted my opinion, my answer would have been quite different.

Sure enough, as soon as we sat down, we were able to watch the champagney drama play out, which led to squealing and screaming and kissing and hugs and awkward-in-law kisses and more screaming and a bit of crying.

It was quite romantic, even, apparently, the sticky ring.

Our food was even better. They had amazing Tzatziki Sauce (almost as good as my Mom’s):
The best fish I’ve ever eaten in my life (imported from Greece – who does that??):

French Fries a la Cheese Snow:

And gorgeous lamb chops:

The wait staff were all Greek, and quite a lot of fun, such as jumping in front of my photos right before I took them:

The next morning, Chris said he had a present for me – he bought me “something pretty”.

The box was a bit heavier that I would expect something pretty to be, but when I unwrapped it, I found it to be quite gorgeous:

A mini netbook. My husband knows me well.

I introduced it to my regular laptop (who was feeling a bit depressed) for size comparison:

It’s the prettiest something pretty I’ve ever seen. My travelling just got a WHOLE lot lighter, and Chris just earned a whole safety deposit box full of brownie points.

Saturday’s agenda was still a complete surprise, other than to tell me it would only include things we’ve never done before. First stop: lunch at The Flying Biscuit, which holds the esteemed designation of being the first place I’ve ever photographed the bathroom ceiling:
Although my food was so good that I forgot to photograph it before I started devouring it,

The most fascinating thing was on Chris’ plate: Chicken Sausage and Turkey Bacon.
I thought the bacon was pretty bland, but the sausage was great! I have no idea how they make chicken taste like pork, but I’m definitely interested.

(I know, it was Chris’ food, not mine…but such a curious creation begs to be tasted!)

After lunch, we walked across midtown to the High Museum of Art (after which I was starting to question Chris’ decision that I didn’t need sensible shoes, but my feet curling up and falling off was a small price to pay for such a perfectly surprising weekend).

We soaked up some culture and history, then headed back to get Ali, who didn’t necessarily feel that she had been allowed to stay for a LONG time, but pretended to be slightly happy to see us anyway.

Breakfast Globetrotting.

April 16, 2010August 13, 2016 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore., I'm No Videographer, Kids: The Experience.

Ali and I took a somewhat long school “break” during the Winteriest part of Winter, partially because we were busy, and partially because I just didn’t have a lot of motivation for much of anything else.

(Darn winteriest winter ever. It effected me greatly.)

Now that it’s nearly summertime and she should rightfully have a school break (I conveniently haven’t taught her about school rights yet), we’re back at it.

I decided that we’d learn countries this time, which I assumed would be much harder than states and presidents, but I am happy to report that I was quite wrong.

Apparently, three year olds learn much faster than two year olds. Who knew.

Exactly a year ago, it took us two and a half months to learn 50 states. We started countries a week ago, working on it 15-20 minutes each morning after breakfast, and she already knows about 60.

In case you weren’t around for the original two learning assignmentsor I wasn’t clear enough in my step-by-steps, here’s how we do it:

1. Make it a game. Ali has no concept that school is supposed to be boring and a drag. She seriously begs to do this every morning, and thinks it’s one of the most fun things we do all day long (which makes it really fun for me, too). I also leave our maps on the breakfast table to jog both of our memories to play countries.

2. Find something small and delicious that you can use lots of for rewards. I initially used marshmallows and yogurt covered raisins, but to cut down on her sugar intake, I switched to Pistachios. She didn’t seem to mind the switch. But if non-candy items just don’t do the trick, Nerds are a great tiny prize that shouldn’t lead to a sugar coma.

3. When you start out, put a prize on a location on your map (I usually use laminated placemats
, but since there are so many small countries, I got us a larger map
and had it laminated), and tell them what it’s called. Have them repeat it about four times, and then they get the prize.

4. The next time they do that location, only give them the first syllable and see if they can say the rest. Each time you do that country over again, wait longer and longer before giving them any hints to see if they can say it by themselves. I am shocked how quickly Ali learns them.

5. After doing 10-15 countries or states, do a “review” – put five prizes at the top of the map and tell them that they get them ALL after a review. Then quickly go through all of the locations you’ve learned to see if they remember them.

6. Don’t learn too many at once – we learned 15 the first day (most of which she was already familiar with), and then added 5-10 each day. When they start to seem bored or overwhelmed, stop for the day. Keep it fun.

Why do this?

Because really, there is no greater entertainment than hearing a three year old use a random country in a sentence, such as these:

“When leaves fall off the trees and go in the water, they float to Indonesia.”

“Saudi Arabia is a real country, Mommy.”

“I think you’re either going to Sweden, or to Outtakes Deli with Daddy. I’ve been to Sweden. It’s a really pretty place.”

Here’s our review today, on our seventh day of learning.

(Caution: If you get YouTube Motion Sickness, you might want to avert your eyes in the second half of this video.)

What – you’ve never heard of Iraguay? You haven’t lived until you’ve been to Iraguay.

Kneetastrophe

April 15, 2010 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Kids: The Experience.

We went on a walk through the neighborhood Tuesday night on the actual ROADS, which I thought surely that would keep anyone else from injuring themselves.

However, Ali was quite excited that we were walking with our neighbor Alice,

(whom Ali adores with all her heart, to the point that she sings about her quite a bit – over and over and at the top of her lungs, “See Alice! See Alice!!!”.)

(Especially when we’re in a busy restaurant about to eat lunch with her.)

(Which makes everyone within earshot wonder why a three year old is singing about Cialis, but really, what can you do.)

Anyway. Ali, in her bubbly excitement about ~~ED Drugs~~ seeing Alice, got to skipping really good, and did what every kid does but Ali never does: she fell.

And skinned her knees.

For the first time ever.

Which was the second time that she’s ever seen blood come from her body with no nurses and needles involved.

She actually handled it much better than I expected – she cried for a couple of minutes, but was then able to move on and walk, with the help of picking a new flower every few minutes from which to gain strength.

However, Wednesday morning was a different story.

She was perfectly fine, singing and happy, until I came into her room and turned on the lights.

She pulled her legs out from under her covers, saw her knees, and screamed with shock and horror.

Seriously – you would have thought that she had a Freddy Krueger shaped scab.

“They’re still blooded!!! My knees are still blooded!!!!”

“It’s okay baby, it’s dried blood – it’s called a scab. They have to do that to heal.”

“They’re blooooooooded!!!”

“They’re just fine! They’re just getting all better.”

My comforting meant nothing to her. The severity of her injuries rendered her completely unable to walk.

At all.

No amount of logic on my part could convince my miniature Ricky Bobby that she was indeed still capable of walking, despite the blooded state of her knees.

Especially down the stairs.

Carrying her downstairs was mighty hard to do and probably seriously comical to watch, considering that I started Jillian’s 30 Day Shred back up this week, and my leg muscles were so traumatized they’re curled in a fetal position in the corner of the attic.

Her blooded knees also required her to live in a constant state of moaning and great remorse…until I forced her to allow me to put “long pants” over them, which initially caused great gnashing of teeth at the horrors of fabric touching her anguishing knees, but ultimately toned down her tortured mindset, if only a wee bit.

Once that was done, I was finally able to trick her into realizing that she could indeed walk (but no worries – no Talladega Nights strategies were needed).

However, her walking was not without difficulty: the only way she could convince her legs to be useful was to do this weird inverted limp all day: one foot flat, one foot tippy-toed. One foot flat, one foot tippy-toed.

And then she would swap her limp to the other side. You know, equal opportunity and all.

Oh, the tragic life of a toddler.

I’m pretty sure she’ll never be able to hold down a job that require knees.

But on the bright side, she could sing the jingle for the Cialis commercials.