Wednesday, September 30, 2009

What's all the Brew Ha Ha About?

Just when I thought things couldn't get any more bazaar. Wait let me rephrase, things CAN get way more bazaar... it could rain meatballs, we could all turn into Avatars and my daughter could actually put on the clothes I pick out each morning and NOT complain.

But have we really come to this? Girls in bikinis serving coffee? Come to find out that we are not even the last conservative mecca to jump on the "Full Bodied Brew" bandwagon. At the Wiki Wiki Coffee and Bikini Xpresso Shop here in Colorado, bikini clad young girls in their 20's are serving up coffee to horny groggy men one hot Brazilian wax, I mean cup at a time.

Many images come to my mind when I think of a babe in a bikini...the beach, slut, catching some rays, skank and maybe a pina colada if I was a little parched. But COFFEE? I cannot think of one time that I that I have EVER been at the pool sunning myself only to look up with green eyes of envy at a good looking girl in the string bikini and thought to myself, "you know what I could go for a nice piping hot cup of joe".

OK, I get it, I know that the Wiki Wiki is not actually marketing to me; someone who could have by now bought a tricked out Lexus with all the money I have spent on hundreds, hell, maybe even thousands of 4 dollar cups of coffee. They are out to get their fair share of the market. The 40% of the population of straight men that do not order coffee from a coffee shop. You know the ones that if they had to order coffee they would order a "large" instead of a Venti, because saying the word Venti would mean that somehow they had one more freakin "Y" chromosome. Or when the beefcakes at Coke changed Diet Coke to Coke Zero, thinking a man would feel like a sissy carrying around a Diet Coke can versus a COKE ZERO. And don't get me started on Diet Sprite, I mean nothing screams "fairy" like a man holding a Diet Sprite can...PLLEEAASSE.

Sex and coffee, I guess not a bad combination depending on who you are marketing to. I mean what man wouldn't want to fit in a 7am morning oogle on his way to work of a hot 20 year old in a bikini with hard nipples. It gives a whole new meaning to the word perky. And if the coffee won't "perk" you up then something in your pants will.

And let's talk about these twenty something babes? Seems like a pretty high risk job to me. If they have any aspirations to headline at a Gentlemen's club near you, they better be careful. Because I imagine having a 3rd degree burn across your stomach from a hot milk mishap is not near as sexy as it sounds. "Tonight, gentlemen for your viewing pleasure, please put your hands together for Scalded Sarah."

The local owner of Wiki Wiki ends the article stating that she may bring men on in the near future, complete with a speedo, of course. Uhh, yeah, that's a good idea, because there is nothing I would like more than being brought a vanilla non- fat, sugar free latte by a "Diet Sprite" drinking fairy in a purple banana hammock. Seriously?

Monday, September 28, 2009

I would like to change my name...

Cheese comes in my office my name is too short. I want to change it to Juliette. So from now on please call me Juliette whenever I speak to you as I will only be answering to this name.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Are you sure the postman didn't stop by...

OK, I saw her head pop out of my v_g_ina (again, didn't spell it out for you dad). Well I didn't see her actually pop out- I don't think anything really "pops" out well maybe your husband's eyes. OK we'll go with slides out...well I actually didn't see that either. I looked down there once with a mirror when I had my first child and it was nauseatingly freaky. I could have gone my whole life without seeing THAT... So really the Big Cheese, he saw our bundle of joy slither out and so did Grandma.. She is my child, I guess she is OUR child. That is unless the postman slipped a mickey in my wine in one of my afternoon wine binges and delivered his own package. Becuase it would be the only way I could explain how two children from the SAME parents can be exist as such opposites.

Mac, my angel. She is my laid back, easy going, has to go to bed on time, "good one". Sure she is messy, leaves her clothes all over the place and we don't think she has any feeling in the area around her mouth because she always has leftover lunch on it. But she is a great kid and awesome one. Yes, one day she will skip class and get caught drinking Gin straight out of the bottle behind the local movie theater. It will be the one bad thing she ever tries, she will hate every minute, and of course, she will get caught. And she will have to explain to the Principal "I am the good one, I never do things like this, my mom always told me I am the good one. My sister she is the bad one, and she tells her that all the time."

And so therapy begins...

Sure I know I shouldn't tell Cheese, my 5 (almost 6 year old), self- proclaimed "devious genius" that she is naughty or has a bad attitude or is behaviorally challenged, but I just can't help myself. The terrible twos and even threes were a cake walk with this kid. I mean sure she had some throw does, exit out the back door of the restaurant, hissy fits but most times I would show her something shiny or give her a bag of cheerios and she would move past pretty quickly.

Now she is five and can actually articulate her laundry list of grievances, we have actually built a boxing ring in our living room. Each morning before school and each afternoon after we step in for a couple of rounds. I mean what the hell should she be complaining about anyway? It is all barbies and ponies and breakfast, lunch and dinner cooked to order around here. How did Debbie Downer, get so unsatisfied, whann, wannn.

This morning for instance we fought about the 1) color of her pony tail rubber bands, 2) the length of the sleeves of her sweater(she refused to roll them up) and 3) the actual "size" of the tied bows her tennis shoes, they were of course too big. I was this close to going into the "lucky you have shoes" speech. I stopped myself because I remembered this speech is completely wasted on her. And she would mostly likely retort with something like..."well mom we do have shoes and we do have money and we are not really poor and I don't know any poor people but if you find a poor person and want to give them my shoes than that is OK with me, I REALLY DON'T LIKE THEM ANYWAY."

So unfortunately this morning's round went to Cheese. She wore no sweater, mismatched pony tails and triple knotted shoe laces. Maybe I have to brush up on my street fighting skills. Seriously, why can't I?

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

If I... and other conversations

If I...

If I ever traded in my Toyota mini-van for a 1992 Dodge mini-van I would sell tamales on the side of the road like the lady in the red van does each day at the entrance to my neighborhood. She sells them at 4 for a $1, but I would sell them for 5 for $1.

If I was a fly on the wall, I wouldn't be on the wall at all. I would be at the beach or somewhere better. And if I got caught inside the front window of a car, I would definitely know how to get out, especially if someone rolled the window down and started waiving their hand at me, pointing me in the right direction.

If I was Taylor Swift and Kayne West came up on stage and interrupted me during my award speech I would hit him over the head with my moon man.

If I was Obama and someone called me a liar while I was addressing Congress I would send him to the Labyrinth to be tortured by the Minotaur. See below.

Is Using A Minotaur To Gore Detainees A Form Of Torture?

If I find myself every Tuesday eating Monster Cookies and Milk while watching the Biggest Loser on TV, does that make me a Big Loser?

If I open FaceBook, and open the "what's on your mind" text box and I can't think of anything to say, I don't say anything. I wish others would do that.
And if I wanted to actually play "Guess that Tune"...I would watch the Game Show Network instead of reading the stupid song lyrics you list as your status.

Other conversations...

So the family is sitting at our favorite hole in the wall Wings and Things Restaurant, we go there about every week or so to enjoy some good sloppy wings and other "things" like BEER. Cheese looks up and says "Hi I am Billy Mays, you know he is dead right?, and I want to show you my new lolly pop drinking straw." WTF? Am I totally oblivious to how much TV does my five year old actually watches. How the hell that she know A) who Billy Mays actually is/ I mean was ; B) that if anyone was going to push a lolly pop drinking straw it would be him ; and C) how did she know he kicked the bucket? Maybe leaving the PX90 Infomercial channel on before bed may have something to do with it, not sure. I am sure, however, that if I would have actually ordered PX90 I would be on day 354.

That same night at the restaurant, Mac, my serious nine year old says, "You know what would be the worst thing ever?"
Hubby says : "Somebody pulling your toenails out with pliers?"
I say : "Eating only potatoes for a year?"
Cheese says: "Having all of your hair fall out all over your body, even your arms?"
No, said Mac without cracking a smile, forgetting my camera when we go on vacation, geesh.

Monday, September 21, 2009


I love, love, love my girlfriends. And even though we are far apart and now reduced to a couple of emails each week or a short status sentence on FaceBook every couple of days, it is their words that puts a smile on my face. So a big Joe Wilson/ Kayne West shout out for the Internet, WOOT, WOOT, because if it wasn't for the world wide web I wouldn't laugh near as much (or ignore my kids as much- but we will keep that to ourselves). Wait, that sounds pitiful, I do laugh all the time, as a matter of fact I laughed out loud this morning while I was volunteering in Cheese's kindergarten class when one of the kids farted out loud during story time. Fortunately, I had my cell phone with me and I immediately looked down as if it was something on my phone that made me laugh. Needless to say I will not be invited back.

So here is an exchange we had on Friday. I have changed the names to protect the innocent and gorgeous and may have added some adjectives, but hey it's my blog and seriously, why can't I?

Dear Girlfriends: All three kids have the swine flu, hubby is home "helping- which actually means getting it the way) and we are all cramped in our tiny 1200sq ft base house which is overflowed with unpacked moving boxes. I think there is a beer and a beach calling my name...Signed Losing my Mind

Dear Losing My Mind: So sorry the kids are sick, we hope you all feel better soon. Speaking of beer let me tell you what happened to me this week. I was out with the hubby this week shooting darts and I am pretty sure I was "interviewed" by a couple that likes to swing. Do they still even do that? I even got a pat on the ass. We must have looked good. We declined of course... Signed Not Swingin' Sue

Dear Losing My Mind: I will go ahead and give you a big THAT SUCKS, I feel horrible for you the kids and hubby, yuck. I do hope that everyone feels better soon. And just think as long as your stuff is in your boxes it won't get contaminated with pig germs. See how I can make your cup half full?

We are the opposite here from both of you. We have no drama, zip, zero, nada. And frankly I could use a little. Not swine drama mind you... as I knock on my compressed fake wood desk. Just a hint...or something interesting to happen. It is safe to say we are like vanilla ice cream around here, actually scratch that, if you take the vanilla out, we are like plain ice cream, with no taste, flavor or additives. Breaking news: Someone did tell me Friday night that I looked like Jennifer Aniston- which totally made my month, we think it was the hair, but I'll take it.

I guess you know your social life is in the crapper when you look at your calendar and all you see are PTA meetings and Partylite Candle parties. So save it to say that I am mostly meeting busy bodies or women who like their houses to smell freakin fresh.
And Swinging Sue, I wouldn't mind so much someone "interviewing" me. At least that would mean someone would show some interest, even if it was for my vagina instead of my mind... Signed Plain Jane, I mean Jennifer

Geez, I miss you guys. Chat soon.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Doing my part...

I have spent most of my adult life walking over pennies. I find them completely frivolous in all their medial copper splendor. I admit it, I have tossed aside many a penny while I concentrated on their more significant cousins the nickle, dime and the now lustrous, "state themed" quarter. I simply couldn't be bothered with that penny. Not only was I too lazy to pick actually bend down to pick it up but my pride would always manage to supersede my need, God forbid someone would see me. Was I too good for Lincoln?

Sure there have been some exceptions, but it was only when luck was concerned and I needed a little extra. Maybe I had an at home hair color kit and needed a just a little extra luck that night achieving that perfect all over hair color (without splotches or turning my blond hair, green), so I would stop to pick one up. Or maybe I was just feeling overall unlucky (it happens, you know) and thought I could use a change of fate that day. So on those rare occasions, sure, in all of my Frenchy glory, I have bent down while saying aloud, "find a penny pick it up all day long you'll have good luck." Wait, didn't Kenickie get hit in the head with the door of "Greased Lightning" after she picked up that penny and gave it to him? Must have been tails down.

However, lately I don't care if the penny is heads up, heads down or sitting in cow manure, I will bend down and pick up that fine minted piece of copper craftsmanship and put it in my pocket. OK, the cow manure is a stretch, I don't think I have walked in a cow pasture since 1987 when I tried my hand at cow tippin after downing a six-pack of Busch light followed by a couple of shots of Mad Dog 20/20 Key Lime flavor, it was a bad idea. Actually the cow tippin was a good idea, the Mad Dog was not. So instead I'll say...if it was sitting in dog crap. OK, that too is a stretch, let's be honest, I don't need a shitty penny that much.

My point is, that lately I seem to be walking around feeling a little guilty. Like all of my superfluous spending will come upon me soon and deliver a Super Wal-Mart size bite in the ass. Am I really too good for that penny? I suppose I am also to good to clip coupons? Are we truly as impervious to this current economic situation as we think we are, or I think we are? What if one day like most of America our bottom falls out and we will are left to survive on grilled cheese sandwiches and watered down tomato soup, just because I had to have three fedora hats that I don't wear anyway? Well, actually that wouldn't be too bad, if I stuck to the healthy choice version of the soup and used fat free cheese, I could drop a couple of pounds at the same time, plus I like grilled cheese. But then if I lost those couple of pounds I would have to celebrate by buying a new pair of jeans and that, my friends, would put me in a quandary. Argh.

So from now on, I am going to do my part and I am going to pick up that penny. And if I stop traffic picking it up in the Target parking lot, I will pick it up. And you know what else I will do, I will ask for my three cents back and not so gallantly toss it in the "need a penny, take a penny" jar at the gas station. Because if pick up about $1000 of those pennies I can actually buy that pair of jeans I have sitting on layaway with a hat to match.

I Mean Seriously Why Can't I?

Friday, September 11, 2009

Special Agent 002 Reporting for Duty...

Should our children have privacy?

It's a good question and I am sure many of us straddle the aisle with this one. This topic came up recently on a news show. The question was by "friending" your kids on FaceBook are you actually spying on them and therfore invading their privacy? Kinda a dumb question, I mean sure, isn't that all FaceBook really is? A way for us to peak into our friends (and our children's) lives. With one click we can see everything from our friends kids on their first day of school to how those same friends they spent their three day weekend boozing it up at a concert. Like Jimmy Steward in Rear Window we are secretly living vicarious through our friends but unlike Jimmy's neighbors our friends have given us permission to "watch".

And with reference to our kids on FB, do we not think our teens have edited their FB and MySpace accounts with two or three different profiles? These punks can text 60 words a minute...we see exactly what they want us to see. Just like when I was a kid and I asked for $10 to go the movies, I didn't really go to the movies, but I knew enough to tell what it was about in case I was asked. On the other hand, and now playing devil's advocate, do we really want to know more that was they show us? Do we want to know all of the details of how they spend their time away from home, out of our watchful eye?

For me TODAY my answer is easy...HELL to the YES I do want to know. I want names, addresses, phone numbers, parent names, model and make of car, a breathalyzer test, a hickey check and text history before and after they leave the house. But again, my girls are only 9 and 5 so it is very easy for me to propose a clear and concise plan of how we will handle their "rights to privacy" (they will have none). And I can already see the exchange of that conversation 5 years from now. I imagine we will be sitting on the front porch enjoying the weather, I will be already tanked on a bottle of wine as happy hour will start earlier and earlier the older the girls get as I will need the extra strength. And peering down through my rose colored Beatles inspired glasses I will enforce my rules. But we all know that once you add some estrogen hormones to the conversation, some high pitch screaming, a couple of "I hate yous" and maybe a threat to runaway this so called "plan" of mine may need some major rewrites.

But my point is this...after all is said and done, when do we step off the playing field and onto the sidelines and let our kids actually play in the game without our interference? Where do we draw the "I will not pry, you are responsible for your actions and you deserve our trust" chalk line and find the balance of allowing them privacy while still being involved in their ever pubescent smelly lives? While you think of that thought provoking statement, let me go hide my daughter's journal back where I found it before she gets home from school.

Here is your Friday funny. Let's hear it for Gloria. Thank goodness we didn't have FaceBook when I was in college, I may have been a "Jenny".

Facebook, Twitter Revolutionizing How Parents Stalk Their College-Aged Kids

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

An Award, for Moi???

I remember as a tween, walking into my best girlfriend's bedroom for the first time and feeling instantaneously paralyzed with self-doubt and overwhelming laziness as I laid my eyes on her bragging wall. On it stacked ever so boastfully were dozens of gold & silver women trophies. And to their immediate left hanging like adoring little fans on her monogrammed cork board was what seems like 100s of blue, red and yellow ribbons and awards. We all had one of these friends, you know the one that was good at all sports and still managed to get good grades, date the cutest boys and was always picked first at any team event, sleep over, etc. I can't remember if she liked rode horses or played soccer... or both, but she was an all around kick ass girl and her room would haunt me for weeks as I later slinked through the Jr. High school halls wondering how I too could earn a plastic little trophy, with no definite skills to speak of. My lack of enthusiasm for all sports (to my defense I had weak ankles) combined with an even greater enthusiasm for socializing... needless to say I didn't earn many awards or trophies as a kid.

Side note. I know my Dad is reading this. So yes Dad, I was an "A" student and worked hard on my grades. I participated in dance lessons and dabbled in some modeling. But the only award we ever received from these "extracurricular activities" was received through the mail, monthly and it usually said PAYMENT DUE.

On the other hand, if there was an award for "making your parents miserable at dinner every night because you had to make a life and death phone call to your 7th grade friend" then I would most certainly have received first place. Or a ribbon for "world's messiest closet that most resembles the Death Star's Trash Compactor" that too would have earned me the blue to put on my cork board. And I know exactly where I would have placed it...right on the kissable lips of my boyfriend, John Schneider aka Bo Duke, on my Dukes of Hazzard poster.

But today is a special day. I earned today my first Blog Award from a very funny neighbor, Michelle, at Waddlers and Toddlers.

Thanks for the shout out Michelle and the award. Since it is my first, I am not entirely sure how it works, but I am printing this out now along with a poster of "Bo" and will hold it in very high regard. With the reward Michelle passed over a "one word" quiz for me to fill out so here are my answers to the quiz. This wasn't easy. I did blow the rules for just one because if anyone knows me I'm a shopper not a crier.

1. Where is your cell phone? purse

2. Your hair? winterized

3. Your mother? pillar

4. Your father? partner

5. Your favorite food? sushi

6. Your dream last night? crafty

7. Your favorite drink? coffee

8. Your dream/goal? fame

9. What room are you in? office

10. Your hobby? writing

11. Your fear? death

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? healthy

13. Where were you last night? PTA

14. Something that you aren’t? quiet

15. Muffins? blueberry

16. Wish list item? cameralens

17. Where did you grow up? Florida

18. Last thing you did? surf

19. What are you wearing? jeans

20. Your TV? On

21. Your pets? cats

22. Friends? away

23. Your life? vanilla

24. Your mood? cheerful

25. Missing someone? girlfriends

26. Vehicle? minivan

27. Something you’re not wearing? shoes

28. Your favorite store? all

29. Your favorite color? pink

30. When was the last time you laughed? breakfast

31. Last time you cried? Target- have to elaborate- (sorry) Cheese went running with the store shoes on but didn't realize they were still together with elastic, the rug burn wasn't funny but the "event" was

32. Your best friend? lots

33. One place that I go to over and over? elementary

34. One person who emails me regularly? FB

35. Favorite place to eat? out

Now I think I have to pass this on, so I will do some homework on my end.
In the meantime, yes, I do remember getting a trophy for pee wee cheerleading...I remember it because I used it as a weapon and hit my brother over the head once for going in my room and touching my stuff.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Learning cursive...

OK, of the 5 readers I have, I am sure to piss two and a half of you off. But I am so miffed about the hubbub surrounding President Obama's speech today and the fact that parents are actually checking their children out of school as to not subject them to the world's most powerful man and his speech. A speech geared specifically towards children on the importance of getting an education, working hard and taking personal responsibility for their actions.

Skeptics say that this speech will brainwash our children into becoming junior leftist lobbyists. I mean, since when did getting involved become a bad thing? As a involved parent, why can't we take this time to enforce our own messages on the heels of the words of "the leader of the free world" regardless of who he is? The information in this speech CAN be used for good instead of "evil", but obtuseness would suggest otherwise. For instance, a local conservative in our paper made a ridiculous statement that children who watched the boobtube could better spend their time learning cursive. I mean, doesn't everyone knows that writing in print shows a definite lack in education?? Let's not forget we are assuming that they are actually "watching" in the first place. Does anything keep their attention for two hours anymore? As a kid, how many black and white 1950 vintage movies did we watch explaining the Dewey decimal system, classroom rules and how to wait in line properly in the cafeteria? Now those were a gigantic waste of time. We spent it writing letters and notes to our friends...sometimes in cursive.

To these parents taking their kids out of school today, good for you, you have accomplished what you sent out to do, leading by example the exact opposite of what Obama is trying to convey...mainly that school is optional and working hard is overrated, as I imagine you have taken time out of your workday as well. Enjoy your break and keep that bar low, and while you're at it go ahead and put on an episode of Sponge Bob and treat those little Republicans to a to McDonald's cheeseburger, because that definitely makes more sense than keeping them in school.

In a nutshell, it shouldn't matter if you are a Republican or Democrat, this may be the only chance for our children to hear a from a President in the tone and verbiage geared specifically towards their young ears. Obama's message that education is the key to personal success (in my opinion) is definitely not one that should be missed based on an individual's ignorance or their hatred for one specific man.

Off my soapbox...tomorrow I will get back to writing about boogers and farts...

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

What were they thinking Wednesday...

So I am enjoying my late night cup of PG Tips reading the newspaper or my version of it...the Yahoo headlines. Yes I do get the Gazette and skim through it each day, but I find I get my "real news" or at least the most interesting news via Yahoo. So I come across this article. The latest "victim" of sudden wealth and loss is a young girl from the U.K. She won $3 million dollars several years ago, only to lose the vast majority of it shortly thereafter- she was just 16. Turns out she spent her cash on drugs, exotic cars and breast implants.

SO my first question would be- where were her parents? And a second I would ask...breast implants at sixteen? Why? Didn't she know that her boobs were still growing at 16, as a late bloomer myself, I think it was the summer of my sixteenth year that I went from a pointy B to a rounder yet still embarrassing pointy C.

The article later states that she spent "a staggering $730,000 on designer clothes alone." Boo yah!

First, the caregiver in me feels horrible that this poor girl had no one to guide her through he downward spending spiral, no one to advise her and reign in her spending, be it a mother or a guardian.

But on the other hand, "woo hoo" momma needs a pair of Manolos and a Birkin bag to match. I would love to be able to spend $730K on designed duds, that is the way to spend your cash. Forget the cars, I would rather drive my 1987 Toyota Tercel if it meant I could have more pairs of $300 jeans. And to her defense, how else is she going to fit in with all the other 16 year old lottery winners if she can't at least dress the part?

As of today she is down to $32K (again where are her parents?). She has taken a left on Remorseful Way (probably in her bright yellow Ferrari). And ever so sad she says "I honestly wish I'd never won the lottery money — and knowing what I know now I should have just given it all back to them".

Yeah right. What sixteen year old is going to win the lottery and then say "Ya know what, I'm good making $4.55 at my current crappy job serving double cheese burgers to senior citizens for a $1. You can take your $3 million back, I can see the heartache it will cause me in my future".

Sorry princess you are a day late dollar short, actually $2,968,000 short. I hope you enjoyed speeding in the fast lane before you got pulled over going 101 mph in a school zone. Hey I have an idea, maybe you should try again and buy one more lotto ticket, or 32,000 $1 tickets. Or better yet, use that $32,000 and sue your parents, they are really the ones to blame here.

Living in the Present...

So I am on a yoga kick. If actually three classes can be considered a "kick". I am finding that Yoga while for me is very challenging it is also very forgiving, which I like. But I think my main reason for going back is the fact that I also enjoy the dedication of the instructors and the positive spin the Yoga discipline has on life. I mean who couldn't’t use a little self induced positive MOJO, right? I also sometimes wonder, how much it would cost me to pay one of these gurus for a "wake up service?" Instead of waking up to the annoying buzz of my three dollar alarm clock, I would awake to a calm tranquil voice, "wake up you svelte little Goddess, the sun is bright, you are alive and the world in all its connected glory is wonderful. You are going to accomplish great things today."

A common theme among all of these classes thus far is the theory of “living in the present.” But this isn't the first time I have heard this concept. Yes, I read, actually started, The Secret . Much to the chagrin of my girlfriends I was totally picking up what that book was putting down. They had me hook, line and sinker. Until one day I read an excerpt in the book about a lady that would use her positive mojo/ her “Secret” to provide her with a front row parking space every time she entered a parking lot. WHAT? A parking space? Seriously, if you knew "The Secret" would you really use that secret to locate a front row freakin parking space? That is like using Wonder Women's truth lasso on Mother Theresa, what a big ass waste of time. So suffice it to say that I never actually learned "The Secret" because I never actually finished "the book." A front row parking space… give me a break. I mean I am not opposed to a little bragging "Constanza style” if I do come across a kick ass spot and yes I may do a little jig in the parking lot while nodding my head to those in the lot that weren't so lucky. But I am surely not going to use my "positive vibe making abilities" to bring me a front row space. I still have that book, but I think it is being used to prop up a shelf somewhere.

So I started yesterday, trying to actively "live in the present." This can work for some tasks but definitely not for others. For instance, I was folding laundry last night trying to figure out a way that folding laundry could one of those enjoyable moments (other than finding a $10 bill in the dryer). How I could embrace this "present". I smelled the clean laundry, that was nice and it was warm to the touch...but I couldn't get past the fact that I WAS FOLDING UNDERWEAR!!! After racking my brain for the positive, the only plus I could come up with was that the Cheese family was fortunate to own underwear otherwise we would all be a stinky mess walking around the streets commando. And if you know anything about little girls...they can be even smellier than little boys (it’s a wiping thing). So that was good right?

That took about 4 minutes and before I knew it I could name about ten other things that I would rather be doing than matching white socks and folding underwear. So at about 5 minutes into my mundane task I checked out of the present and started thinking of the future. My haircut appointment planned for this Friday, the start of college football this weekend and a upcoming road trip. Unfortunately, the same thing happened when I unloaded the dishwasher and again when cleaning the bathroom counters of the many globs of toothpaste. These "moments" pretty much sucked. Yes, having the strength scrub off the toothpaste is nice, but finding someone else to wipe the counters for me, I wish I could spent my present time doing that.

But I can't help but think that somewhere along the way I may have missed the point. So while I try to find it... here is a quote that was shared with me at recent a yoga class (again love those guys). You may recognize it as it is part of the eulogy by Obama for the late Senator Kennedy.

"We cannot know for certain how long we have here. We cannot foresee the trials or misfortunes that will test us along the way. We cannot know God's plan for us.

"What we can do is to live out our lives as best we can with purpose, and love, and joy. We can use each day to show those who are closest to us how much we care about them, and treat others with the kindness and respect that we wish for ourselves. We can learn from our mistakes and grow from our failures. And we can strive at all costs to make a better world, so that someday, if we are blessed with the chance to look back on our time here, we can know that we spent it well; that we made a difference; that our fleeting presence had a lasting impact on the lives of other human beings."