Seriously, Why Can't I?

Wrestling with My Past...

2012-01-21T21:18:00.000-07:00

And one night you are on the 5th floor of a 10 story building on the busy Kokusai Street in downtown Naha, Japan standing 20 feet from the squared circle of a wrestling ring, sweating drinking a Cherry Chu-Hi. Wondering, how in the hell did I get here? And who is this Habu Man you speak of?

First, let me explain, I am a fan. 7:05pm Sunday, channel TBS, you could catch me on any given Sunday night from 1981-1985 watching the WWF on the tube with my Dad. We would dine on my favorite meal of fish sticks and apple dumplings (cooked in the convention oven) while we would get lost in the pivotal relationships of good guys: Ted Dibiase and the Junk Yard Dog, versus the fire haired Fabulous Freebirds and their fearless toe head Ric Flair. I would watch with baited breath, because back in the 1980's you know it was real ya'll. Gordon Solie was king and the piledriver could send someone to the hospital. Really, the H-O-S-P-I-T-A-L.

Over the last 30 years (yikes) my love of wrestling may have waned but here I am again in 2012, Okinawa Japan, 7:05pm on a Saturday night, enjoying flying drop kicks and slingshot catapults. I am standing in the sixth row (the last row) of the Okinawa Pro Wrestling stadium screaming in Japanese, for Habu Man (who I get the feeling has been watching lost Freebird tapes) as he whips his opponent with the snake tail that shoots from the top of his mask and hangs down to his knees. Mongoose man's chest is bright red from the markings of the Habu's tail and all I keep thinking to myself is, first what do these guys look like under their masks (are they even Japanese?, I swear I heard someone speaking in with an Aussie accent). And how long will it take for Habu Man to get the three count, because he is definitely NOT going to lose his MWF Nacho Libre belt tonight, we could not be so lucky. My knowledge of wrestling...no matter how many back flips the Mongoose Man served up, that belt was going back to Habu Man--whatever he looked like under his mask.

Life is crazy, you never know where it is going to take you. Things just don't happen, if you want something marvelous you've got to make something marvelous. My marvelous was not only reliving a part of my past but embracing my future and its randomness. Before I left the arena I walked up to Habu Man (someone had brought him an Orion Beer) as he rested I cheered him with my Chu-Hi,
"Kampai."

Seriously, Why Can't I?

When in Rome...

2012-01-13T01:00:00.000-07:00

This morning I slowly scuffed my way to the kitchen, trying to fight my self-induced Nyquil hangover, and turned on my Keurig for a cup of hot joe. I open the silverware drawer to grab a spoon...

To find that we now have a SEPARATE slot in our cutlery organizer for...

CHOPSTICKS???

When did this happen? How long was I out? Yes, sure chopsticks, we use them sporadically for our Ramen, Sushi and Cheese uses them for her cereal every now and again (don't ask). But have they really reached their highest potential in our household after only being in Japan for six months, thus earning them their own coveted slot? I'll have to say, they are going up along the likes of some weighty competitors. I mean, I personally would really be pissed if I was a hors d oeuvres fork, or a finely sharpened steak knife. They have been waiting patiently to get out of the "catch all" slot along with the garlic crusher, numerous salad fork/spoon sets and the random wooden spoon that drops in every now and again.
But since I no longer empty the dishwasher, WINNING!!! I guess I can't hate the player.

Or the game, "So When in Rome..."

Live in the Moment

2012-01-09T17:03:00.000-07:00

Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. Buddha

Because I Try...

2012-01-08T19:18:00.004-07:00

So I am going on week two of feeling mis-er-able. Let's just say that Cholraseptic is my bitch and I am seriously considering constructing a pleather leopard tool belt/ medicine holder /fanny pack to wear about my waist, because, fuck it, why bother anyway. Hey there is nothing more convenient a roll of toilet paper secured to your waist. And it just-keeps-getting-better because when I woke up this morning and my left eye was glued shut. If that doesn't buy me a one-way ticket to Snotville, USA than I don't know what does. I am DONE!

So as you can see this weekend was a bust as was last week and I am going on day eight of a "wouldn't wish this on my worse enemy sickness." And although I tried to get out of the house, sporting the "mind over matter" mantra in my head, the overwhelming urge to sit on my couch and watch the same episode of Housewives of Beverly Hills again and again takes over.

At about 4 o'clock on Sunday after a completely busted weekend, Cheese comes to me and asks for a bike ride, the same bike ride I have promised all week, the one where we ride down to Starbucks and share a hot chocolate maybe a piece of cheesecake. Of course, a bike ride being one of the last things I want to do, I ask what her second best thing she could do today would be. She says she would like to go to the store and buy some canned spray cheese.

So I do what any sick, lazy and overly guilty mom would do on a Sunday afternoon, I take her to buy cheese in a can along with a rotisserie chicken for dinner and my third bottle of Nyquil.

Anyway, on our way to the car after purchasing the loot, Cheese skipping the entire time (I swear you would have thought I bought her a new kitten) she opens the can and proceeds to shoots a three inch glob of processed cheese all over my Coach purse.

Cheese-1 Mom-0

A hangover cure?

2011-12-30T19:57:00.000-07:00

You know you have a slight problem. (Disclaimer: "Not that there is anything wrong with it.") When you check Yahoo!News and from these options, the newsworthy story you decide to find out more about is ...

*Two abortion doctors charged with murder in late-term cases
*Canadian couple welcomes 100th grandchild to family
*Missing Arkansas mother's torched car discovered in forest
*Can you cure a hangover? New attempts, old standbys
*Romney son jokes about Obama's birth certificate Iowa blogs
*Babysitter charged with murder in Indiana girl's death
*Bolivia to sell 13K tons of rice seized from American
*Gingrich gets emotional in rare personal campaign moment

Hit the brakes, well hey, actually don't because it looks like we have been given the green light to pour that 1am shot of tequila and follow it up with a corona chaser. The holy three have finally manifested themselves into a tablet called "Blowfish." And this tablet, named after a highly poisonous vertebrate (???) is claiming to do what all others have failed. A cure for hangovers?

I can't help but think, combine Blowfish with the morning after pill and you may as well be the elected a Major of DO-OVERville.
But I am intrigued, so I decided to "dive" a little deeper.

The latest concoction, "Blowfish" combines aspirin, caffeine and an antacid into an Alka-Seltzer-like effervescent tablet. When dropped into a glass of water, it fizzes up a lemony brew that packs the hangover-fighting power of two extra-strength aspirins, three espressos and a greasy breakfast. Sans the 2000 calorie, smothered, covered and scattered, ok I want to hear more...

But it gets even better. Because if wake up to find yourself in the Manhattan area, in your 2nd story loft lying on your kitchen floor with a plate of Nachos Bellgrande on your stomach and your mouth and tongue dyed bright red from the big gulp in your right hand, do not fear...if you order online you can qualify for a 60 minute delivery in Manhattan! Just select courier shipping at checkout.

Seriously, why didn't I think of this? Seriously?

Lashing out...

2011-12-25T21:02:00.000-07:00

And then she poured acid into my eyes... and I immediately thought to myself, well no, my first thought was f**k I am blind. My second was an imagined a scenario where I quickly jumped up turned and grabbed the tech by the throat and proceeded to jam her head into my knee. So it would be my third thought, which was...you know this is totally what I deserve for trying to save a couple thousand YEN and venture out on my own.

Let me back up.

Moving to a new city can be a challenge. From choosing the street you live on to choosing your family dentist. BUT if you have someone on the inside, someone in town that has already done the research, found the right people and places than a transition need not be as daunting. They can help you solve some of the most important questions when moving: where do I get my hair done? my nails? and where can I get a good ~~martini~~,meal?

So I was one of the "rucky" ones, I had an "in", she knows who she is and without her, my transition to Japan could have been nightmarish, starting with self inflicted enemas on the Japanese toilets and ending with offending an entire restaurant because I left my chopsticks in my rice bowl. She showed me the ropes, and because of her connections I now have a "stylist" a "manicurist", a "trainer" and a freakin "mamasan." SCORE!!! Rife is good.

But soon there comes a time when that Mama bird takes off and leaves that little bird in that foreign tree and that baby bird has to leave the nest one her own, fly away or fall to the ground breaking both legs soon after becoming dinner to the closest predator.

Well it didn't take long until this bird, not only fell out of the nest but hit a couple of branches on the way down. And found her little eyes glued shut after venturing out on her own.

Eyelash extensions-1, Birdie- 0

Please take off that Reindeer Sweater...

2011-12-03T17:26:00.001-07:00

As we stumble head first into the Christmas season looking back over our shoulder at Thanksgiving sporting a substantial muffin top, we wonder begin to wonder how in the hell did we get here already? Don't get me wrong, I love the holiday season, the anticipation for the big guy and all that Christmas entails. However, I find myself in a cynical place when it comes to Christmas fashion. Why is it instead of rejoicing in my fellow wo/man and their Christmas "spirit" I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "take off that F*&ing reindeer sweater!!"

Some of my other pet peeves during this tacky, yet love your fellow man holiday season...

Santa hats- They look ridiculous on EVERYONE. You could put a Santa hat on a bare-chested, Matthew McC (my number one), and he could ask me to join him in Fiji for a week in his best southern drawl. But if he is wearing that velvet monstrosity upon his beautiful crown, I will have to pass on principle alone. Well, not before taking a picture as proof.

Christmas lights- Beautiful in your yard or in your house. However, your sweater should not light up, your earrings should not light up, your necklace should not light up- NOTHING. You know who you are...take that shit off and hang it on your tree.

Bells- Mildly annoying, regardless, unless in a bell tower. But these should never be on your person. Not on your shoes or tied around you waist or at the top of the Santa hat you are wearing (that my friends could earn you a punch in the face.) Plus let's face it nobody wants to hear you coming.

Let's just put it this way, you ~~tacky pieces of shit~~ "spirited" people, if an ELF considers it a part of their wardrobe than maybe you should NOT. Now go out and get looped on spiked egg- nog, you have my permission.

UPDATE: Accepted: Santa hats when worn to deliver good cheer, especially when worn by men delivering candy canes in the hospital to all men, women and children. Thank you guys!!!

Thankfulness, wait is that even a word?

2011-11-27T20:29:00.001-07:00

Facebook- 30, Me- 16, that is the final score of the thirty days of thankfulness that I attempted to write daily for the month of November. I realized there was a problem when I barely made it past the first week and had to list days 8, 9 and 10 all in one day. Well, to my defense, I also know full well that dredging baby carrots in ranch dip while drinking a diet coke is not a healthy lunch. Don't judge, my jeans will do that for me. Speaking of jeans, why is it that as the holidays approach, I all I want to do is ~~bake~~ I mean slice and bake cookies. I am NOT a bear, but why does nature F*&* with me by urging me to start bulking up for the winter??

I digress, DONT GET ME STARTED. Anyway, I continued to press on past day 10 and kept up my thankful list, each day getting a little less creative but a little more heartfelt...thankful for my husband, my kids, the kindness of others, etc. All and all I say I made it unofficially to day 16, maybe 12, I don't really remember. Before I knew it, I was out of thankfulness steam, forgotten sometime between "Winesday" and I am too busy for this shit..day.

Now, don't get me wrong I am both grateful and thankful for just about everything in my life. In fact, I may be one of the most grateful people you will meet. I just couldn't complete the challenge. It's OK, I am used to it, 30 days of being thankful can take a spot between 365 days of pictures and my 6th grade diary, Days 1-5. But as I take a stand this year, against the bears and the cookies, I decided today to come up with another list. If I could do it all over again here is what I would be thankful for:

I am thankful for:

1 The fact that my kids can finally take a shower.

2 Bathing poufs.

3 Shampoo and conditioner combinations... I mean who has the time.

4 Twix bars.

5 The team of 25+ network gurus who decided to call the National Geographic channel, Nat Geo...saving me three syllables.

6 The man who created the leopard snuggie, classy.

7 Libraries, love me some books.

8 The option to document our lives with photographs instead of a diaries.

9 Snapfish.

10 Forks or any utensil really. Living in Japan, we don't realize how good we got it in America.

11 The Wright Brothers.

12 Living close enough to school that my kids can walk.

13 Living close enough to the club that I can walk.

14 Hazzard lights, especially when it is snowing.

15 Right Said Fred.

16 Sushi.

17 Japaneses toilets: namely the air freshener and the white noise features.

18 The ability to say "no" and mean it.

19 Zumba or any excuse to shake it.

20 Amazon.com

21 Moscato.

22 Colored christmas tree lights.

23 Stephanie Meyer & The Twilight books. For giving us 30+++ year old Mom's the idea that Edward could show up at any moment and sweep us off our feet. I wasn't the only one right?

24 Hot pink tucked away in the smallest of places.

25 Chelsea Handler and Tosh.O.

26 The internet.

27 Friends across the miles.

28 Flip Flops.

29 Magazines at check out registers, also super glue and baby wipes.

30 Fridays

There 30 days of thankfulness... FB can Suck It!

I can't make this stuff up...

2011-11-13T05:38:00.001-07:00

While searching the internet some time ago, I found this comment in the Yahoo forum. After I pissed my pants, I immeadiately placed it into my blog log where it was later completely forgotten. I found it this weekend stuffed between my letter to Oprah and my list of 25 things I wanted to do within the next year. The marathon can suck it for now.
I won't go into why I was searching for "slimquick" really I can't remember. I could have just polished off a bag of oreos with a Mich Ultra chaser, or tried on my skinny jeans only to realize that they came complete with a muffin top, this is not the point. The point is that anyone that poops their pants "in a private car no less" with such EXCLAMATION deserves a shout out.

Enjoy:

THIS STUFF THIS "SLIMQUICK" CAUSED MY MALE GENITALIA TO TURN A STRANGE COLOR BLUE. I RODE THE TOWN BUS AND POOPED!! UNCONTROLLABLY. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS "SLIMQUICK" MAKE ME POOP ON A PUBLIC BUS!! NOT EVEN A PRIVATE CAR!!I ADVICE YOU DO NOT USE THIS PILL UNLESS YOU WAN TO POOP IN PUBLIC AND HAVE YOUR SEPCIAL PARTS TURN STRANGE COLORS.

Out and About

2011-10-30T03:42:00.000-07:00

Random Photos from Japan.

Really a cray pot?

This is exactly why the Japanese bow instead of shake hands.

One of the more entertaining vending machines. I am still looking for one that sells something other than drinks and cigarettes.

FINALLY! We found Godzilla. Did they know something about the Space Program that we didn't.

Welcome to the Prince Hotel, we would like to offer you shampoo, mouthwash, shaving cream and this pink scrunchie.

365 Project...Take 20 (And don't fall on the fish this time)

2011-10-24T22:40:00.006-07:00

Again and again I have attempted to join the 365 Project, only to fail at day one in a half. So basically I take one photo and on day two I just think about taking a photo.

But here I sit in the land of 100YEN stores, sushi and road "caution" signs with pictures of puppy and ducklings on the bottom. How could I not share take part in the project.

So here it goes... I figure anything past day three and I have already won.

P.S. Although I am not a cheater, I am going to fudge a little and post my top ten photos taken until now. As if I started on October 15th, NOT Oct 25th.

P.P.S. Don't judge.

P.P.S.S. As if anyone is really reading this.

P.P.S.S. But seriously don't judge.

Privacy and Vanilla Ice Cream

2011-09-20T21:57:00.005-07:00

Ahh, privacy. My five minute morning ritual that occurs (sometimes too quickly) after my second cup of joe. Just me and the Stars and Stripes turned to the American Roundup page while my "starving placed on a strict diet because they are too fat and if they don't diet they will end up with feline diabetes and you know who has two thumbs and is not spending my years in retirement giving them shots in the ass...this girl" cats rub up against my legs. That is what life is all about y'all.

But this morning, I thought it had to be a joke. Did the guys from TheOnion.com ninja their way way into the Stars and Stripes last night and decided to mix that shit up. Either that or I need to get back to the U.S. as you people are going all sorts of crazy. Forget those bland vanilla news stories of the past for you American boneheads are on your second serving of Sweatty Balls ice cream covered with dickies and hot fudge.

I'll recap today's paper...

3 Women "victims" of unwanted toe sucking-
(enter screeching sound here) Seriously, how does one become a victim of toe sucking?

Theft suspect sends victim a friend request
Thief steals a cell phone then, sends the owner of said cell phone a friend request on FaceBook. She recognizes him as the dude who stole her phone and calls the cops. Score 2,001 for the combination of social media and idiots.

Burger joint sued for having small booths
A man is suing White Castle because the booths are too small for him to fit.
Is this not obvious??

Rabid dead bat found in store's Halloween aisle
Question: Would it be as newsworthy if it was found in July?

Ode to a Banana Boat

2011-08-27T18:45:00.004-07:00

Side by side two yellow floats travel as one,
Under a dark black cloud that blocks out the sun.
Sideways rain drops pelt and and sting my face
As the Jackhole boat driver continues to race,

Back and forth, left and right he crashes through the tide.
While 40 ft back, I start to dislike this mother fu**ing ride.
I am now holding on for dear life, shit I can't feel my toes,
This damn fruit float is deceiving, my anxiety grows.

Does he really want us off, "yeah you, dickhead" is that the name of this game?
Because if I knew that before I would have stayed on the shore in the rain.
Instead now, my arms are like jelly, my knees feeling forty
I have two cuts on my legs, hey jackball, not feeling so sporty.

In fact come to think of it I can't feel anything anymore,
Only resentment and regret... get me the hell ashore!!!
And if you don't soon, once I get back the feeling in my legs I swear
I will fly from this yellow death trap, and high kick you straight in the pair.

THE END

Lost in Translation

2011-08-25T15:54:00.010-07:00

All we wanted was a Mos Burger, or eight Mos Burgers as we traveled back from our two day beach excursion. Covered with salt, sand and the unpleasant memories of a banana boat ride (see this post). Four hungry adults and four impatient children embarked on our first attempt of "fast food."

Let me explain, ordering food at a Japanese restaurant be it fast food or otherwise, is an ordeal, think third base coach and hand gestures (nodding, crotch grabbing and the proverbial inner arm slap back and forth and back and forth). Lots of pointing and smiling and finally as your narrowed ass waitress walks away you just hope against hope you ordered the chicken fried rice and not the fried rice with pork intestines and a side of "what in the hell is this". Of course, the servers, they try, and every once again someone will pull out the "handicapped menu", a menu translated in English. Because if that doesn't make you feel like you rode in on the short bus then the blank looks, with toothy smiles will. Makes you want to say aloud, "Beans and Franks" and walk in circles.

Let me also explain, in Japan, food comes in waves, when it it ready, not altogether. Sure this alleviate heat lamps, but mostly it leads to envy and resentment. While you are waiting, your friend somehow won the dinner lottery and finds themselves knee deep into a plate of Yakisoba and not only are they not paying attention to the drool dripping from your chin but they just look so damn smug enjoying their meal.

I am getting there...

So we order off the "special English menu" at the counter of Mos Burger. Our fries come out first along with our drinks and our teenie tiny plate of ketchup (which deserves another post). Four burgers are delivered, four are not, 10 minutes pass, 20, then 30 minutes. Now normally this would be an easy fix, "Excuse me, we are missing four burgers. Can you check on these for us?"

Instead, what went down is what I like to call, the Great Hamburger Emergency...

US Waiving to get attention (you hoo over here, obnoxious Americans, no we are not dancing we are trying to get your attention)
Grab menu, point at Hamburger, shaking head, no (we did not get)

CUTE LITTLE MOS EMPLOYEE Nods "hai, hai" (yes, yes) while taking steps backward to her safe place/ counter.

US We exchange a glance, Oh Shit, I think we just ordered another burger. Speaking now "No, no, no we didn't get any burgers, zero" (making a giant zero with our hands) only four. We are now causing an incident.

CUTE LITTLE MOS EMPLOYEE Crickets...and a blank stare.

US We all jump in, all four adults begin to point and gesture, which is now an all out clusterf#$%, we are all pointing, slapping arms, four fingers, four four four "we received four fries, shaking head no hamburgers." I think someone does the "international" symbol for death with a swift hand gesture across the neck.

CUTE LITTLE MOS EMPLOYEE She walks even further backwards, bowing and smiling. But inside I can tell she is waiting for the short bus to drive up to pick us all up, then she is going to lock herself in the meat freezer and enjoy a tallboy Orion.

US Did we just order four more burgers or tell her that we were going to off her?

This continues until my brilliant daughter grabs the smart phone downloads a Google Translation application, burgers are received and all is right with the world...for now.

25 Days, 25 Things I Have Learned

2011-08-02T23:10:00.011-07:00

Well after 18 long hours on a plane intermittent with Harry Potter movies, screaming babies and copious amounts of pre-packaged food, we landed on the island of Okinawa. Actually I wouldn't even say landed, more like stopped long enough to jump off the plane and immediately strap on a pair of wheelies (you know Dad, the kind of sneakers that are also skates).

So, so much to share, and once the rubber wheels are worn down to the stubby silver nub I will go into detail about some of our most recent adventures. But for now here is a list of 25 things I have learned in the 25 days I have been here on the island of Oki.

1. Straight out of the gate I was confronted by Yahoo! Japan and a screen full of Kanji...was I hacked? How do it know. And more importantly how do you spell English in Kanji so I can get back to my English lover?

2. You can order off of the menu Fried Rice, literally spelled Flyed Lice.

3. All Japanese food is fat free, 0 calories? You may also be eating furry caterpillar poo, but if you can't read the package it just don't count.

4. Cocoks Nail Salon- Oki's Mecca. Where women flock for toe nail art. And since I plan on having a appointment every three weeks for the next three years, I need to gather 52 gold coins (500yen tips) for the 52 toe designs in my future.

5. Sour vs. Awamori vs. Chu Hi- not sure what the difference is but consumption of any of these cocktails will cause you to think that you are fluent in Japanese.

6. Predator of choice: Habu Snake vs. Banana spider- an aggressive snake who hunts at night and lies awaiting in the grass in your backyard vs. an aggressive spider that attacks/jumps on you when not provoked and sleeps in your windows.

7. And because of this I have learned that living in the jungle is not as romantic as in the movies. Mother nature is pissed and wants her island back.

8. No substitutions- while the Japanese are very accommodating overall, don't f### with the food. If you don't like fatty spare ribs in your soba, too damn bad.

9. Karaoke rooms- these go for $8/ hour. Once in, singing Domo Arrigato Mister Roboto at the top of your American lungs and ending the night with some "Teen Spirit" by Nirvana is a must do.

10. There are more than just one shape of toilet, and flushing is just one of their many functions. Just ask my friend.

11. Wet towels- Are offered before every meal, I appreciate the cleanliness, but I can help but think there are offered to compensate for the crappy hand soap.

12. Chopsticks- why people in Japan are so thin.

13. They also prefer wood splinters as I found it is rude to rub them against each other to smooth them. Or stick them out of your rice.

14. 100 yen store - charges 105 Yen per item

15. Hai means yes- not hello, so I have spent the last 25 days walking into restaurants, bars and shops saying "yes" to everyone I meet.

16. The Japanese like their fruit and have dedicated entire theme parks to it, welcome to Pineapple Land, or would you prefer to spend your day at Goya Island?

17. Swimming with a Whale shark will be just plain cool and on my bucket list.

18. Heat- WARNING: Sitting in the direct sun, can cause your face to melt off like the dude who opened the Arc on Indiana Jones.

20. Sangria tastes better in Japan, and when consumed every night it can cause one to lapse into denial every day at 4pm.

21. Mayonnaise tastes great on everything- of course I knew this, but now the Japanese have proved it.

22. Yen spends like monopoly money.

23. Sushi also tastes better in Japan.

24. Socks with flip flops is still a fashion DON'T.

25. Typhoon Muifa, I would find her so much more enjoyable if she was names Typhoon Mulva.

Life as a Nomad

2011-06-22T15:47:00.008-07:00

Well its here again...the time for our military family to pack up all of our worldly possessions, sell the remaining for one tenth of its original cost and join the band of military gypsies that travel from guest bedroom to sleeper sofa, hotel room to TLF, waiting to recreate a new existence in a new home, city or in our case a new country, Konbanwa.... OKINAWA, JAPAN.

So before we board our 24 hour flight tomorrow to Japan.. one that I imagine will be something like a Ringling Bros. Barnam and Bailey Brother's Circus railcar filled with and elephants and a dirty dwarf clowns. I thought I would recount how I have spent our last month of HOMELESSNESS?

20 Different bathrooms
19 Great friends spending time at a going away party
18 Calls to Mom
17 Fights with younger Nomads who spend copious amounts of time playing with the soap in the worse of those bathrooms
16 Different hotels- from Greenville to North Platte to Boston to Seattle
15 Happy Hours
14 Bottles of wine
13 Hours in hotel pools
12 Donuts
11 Hours of layovers
10 Hissy fits
9 Different microbrews tried and LOVED
8 lbs.Gained
7 lbs. Loss than gained again
6 Frustrating hours of waiting for wireless internet
5 Lbs of Fried Clam Strips
4 Hours fun in the sun with my buddies
3 Lines dances at the Copperhead Country Bar
2 Wineries
1 Stanley Cup Victory
0 An almost trip to Canada

If Bloody Mary can Survive than so can this Blog...

2011-05-14T07:55:00.006-07:00

The best way to describe it, I guess similar to a recovering addict, because o' blog you are always on my mind. You are there when I wake up in the morning to a sugar and rice krispy covered floor, child perched on the kitchen table eating her breakfast while watching DC Cupcakes and I want to share that "crunchfooted" moment with the cyber world. And again later in the day when I am in the car driving, reach to open up a "box" of chewing gum, it explodes and I am covered in powder and 1 inch cubed shrapnel. I curse, lean down between my feet to grab a piece and nearly miss an relatively big man walking his little tiny Yorkie. And while I am at it, hey Wrigley's (just because we carry suitcases instead of purses these days, it does not give you the right to increase the size of a pack of gym to an obnoxious 3 inch box). I'll tell you what, just bring back Fruit Stripe, make the flavor last longer and I will forget the rest.

It may not seem like it, but I do drop in now and again write a few notes here, a few ideas there then like the recovering Uncle Joe I disappear for weeks, heck months at a time...I know I need to write more, and I will. Big changes are ahead for the Cheese Factory. We are closing down our doors in the good ole U.S. of A and heading to the Pacific where labor is cheap but manicures are NOT. But that my friend, is another post altogether.

So what really prompted me to write today was a visit from a long lost friend. A gal who showed up at my 10 year olds slumber party last night..."Bloody Mary." Where in the hell have you been you scary, menacing B**ch all these years? I would have thought that you were way retired; hanging out with your Ouija board in a nice little mirrored hut in the South Pacific. But I guess things are tough even for old wives tales. Let me say your unwelcome attendance in my downstairs power room caused one little girl to go home, props to you Mary, you haven't lost your touch old gal.

I do have to admit it was MUCH better seeing you again as an adult. But next time you wander into my bathroom, would it kill you to bring something with you to the party. Maybe a little "Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board, Hard as a Rock."

Guess who's coming to dinner?

2011-03-06T12:41:00.003-07:00

The age old question, if you could host a dinner for 10 people dead or alive who would you ask to stop by? If I had to commit right now, without much thought, I guess my list would start off as "shocking" as others. Starting out with the big three: JC, Oprah, Obama. However, I seem to veer off the beaten path for the remaining crew. One has to think about personalities, and there needs to be some common interests, as stated in a post a long time ago, I abhor silent pauses. So here it goes in no particular order.

I would also invite: Cher, for her shelf life, wardrobe choices and I think she would be a kick. Pink for her attitude towards all and the most likely to shotgun a beer with me. Adam Sandler and Chris Rock for their banter OR Steve Carrel and Ricky Gervais they would be a package deal, so would definitely need a back up. A great planner always has a back up. Will Ferrel for pure sport. Matthew McConaughey for eye candy, he is also a beer drinker so one less alcohol to purchase. And I would round out the group with a good girlfriend, not only to pinch me every now and again to make sure I wasn't dreaming but to share the night with me so we could recount it over and over again for years to come.

Now if you asked me that question almost 30 years ago my answers would have been much different. Cher and Pink would have been replaced by the entire band of either A-HA or Duran Duran. Matthew Mc would have been replaced by Leif Garrett. The comic duo replaced by Tia and Tony the twin witches from Witch Mountain. Bo, Luke and Daisy Duke would be on the list. Ralph Macchio from Karate Kid and the Professor from Gilligan's Island, Roy Hinkley.

Bet you didn't know he had an actual name. Actually the Skipper's had one too, he was Jonas Grumby.

Some others just for fun:

Cap'n Crunch’s - Captain Horatio Magellan Crunch (who cares)
Snuffleupagus - Aloysius (I know right, I could barely say Snuffleupagus, could never spell it, why bother?)
Peppermint Patty - Patricia Reichardt (Mister, very confusing for a kid, was that the first cartoon lesbian)
Shaggy of Scooby-Doo - Norville Rogers (Dirtbag, he would definitely be invited- although if he brought with him Scooby Snacks with the "magical powers" I may have given the guitarist from A-HA the boot.)

Seriously Why Can't I?

Life is Like a Box of Choocolates...

2011-02-21T09:19:00.000-07:00

Well I have come full circle. It is truly amazing how life shakes out. Time changes everything. Life is like a box of chocolates. An unwatched pots boils immediately. You get my drift. It's been a long time O Blog, my long lost friend. So sorry I dropped you like a pair of panties on prom night, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

But I am back now, it seems that life once again has thrown me a curve ball so I look to you for some batting advice, because instead of taking the base after getting smacked in the forehead with the baseball, like last year...this time at bat I am going to hit that sucker right out of the park. And then take a victory lap.

To give you an idea of what I have been up to these past couple of months, here is a list of my last google searches.

At What temperature does beer freeze?

Is Amway a Scam?

What is Reuters?

How to download movies to ipod?

Why is a tic tac toe tie, called a cat game?

Long island iced tea recipe?

Who was The Wrestler movie based on?

What is an alpaca?

Okinawa average weather?

Why don't British people sing with an accent?

What does a ticket run to see the Grammys?

How to make a sandwich toothpick straw blowgun?

Directions to: Art in Motion Tattoo Parlour.

I love not camping...

2010-07-31T07:50:00.011-07:00

picture courtesy of Anne Taintor

I imagine myself a camper akin to how I imagine myself a runner. I have all the gear: running shoes, a jogging bra, and ipod with suggested "running" tunes and in one brief moment in time I could keep a 11 min/mile pace(not an inch more without throwing up, six miles, max)...Therefore in my head I am a runner.

I tell myself I am a runner, not a walker but a runner. And this is true until I lace up my shoes in the present day, attempt to run around the block only to be woken up with a booger covered four year old's finger poking at my chest because I took a rest at the neighborhood playground and later passed out some where around mile two. But dammit I am a runner.

The same goes for camping...I camp therefore I am a "camper" (pardon my terminology but at a loss for another term for a camper.) Anyway, we have an eight person tent (large enough for me to Zumba in), an air mattress, sleeping bags, lanterns, a hammock and a couple of flannel shirts to play the part. I definitely l-o-v-e the idea of camping like I love the idea of running. And yes, I can survive in the rugged outdoors for a night, eating hot dogs gently coated with sand and smelling somewhere between a hamster cage and my favorite BBQ joint. And if the truth be told, I don't mind the bugs and dirt, the food and the sticky sap that gets just about everywhere, the 1/2 mile walk to the bathroom, or the constant boredom. So that would make me a camper, right? But here is my question and maybe the one thing that distinguishes me from the rest. These camping folks, do they ever worry? I mean r-e-a-l-l-y worry, because I worry all the time while camping. And no matter how much I try to fake my outdoorsmanship I cannot get over the constant reoccurring thoughts of:

The 6ft bear that is lurking behind the pine tree ready for me to turn my back so it can drag my child off into its torturous den, but not before ripping off our faces.

Or the 10ft giant rattlesnake hidden in the pine straw that ~~is napping~~ waiting to strike my husband's ankle...and I am not freakin prepared to cut an X over it with a knife and suck the poison out.

Or the rabid five fingered raccoons that are dexterous enough to open up a cooler and steal my marinated chicken tenders, and later mistake my toes for tenders.

Or that pack of twelve coyotes that are hiding out in the glen waiting for us to close our eyes so that they can pounce our tent and bite off our noses and finger tips.

And the worse of all worse cases the idea that Jason Voorhees and Leatherface have shacked up together in a cozy two bedroom cabin up the hill and they will be combing the area at sundown looking for someone wearing flannel to join their ménage à trois.

A runner- maybe, child of the eighties- definitely, camper- yeah not so much.

Because I would rather post this video here than on FB...

2010-07-16T11:17:00.004-07:00

Holocaust survivor defends disco dance. A viral video of Adolek Kohn dancing to "I Will Survive" at Auschwitz stirs international controversy.

I found this video today on Yahoo. It seems people are up in arms about Kohn's "method" of educating today's youth on the Holocaust.

Me, well I think he can do whatever the F**K he wants...you rock it Adolek!!!

I'm Back...

2010-06-24T14:58:00.004-07:00

Before I go into my "this is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard rant." I wanted to just say hello, sorry I have been gone, but I set out to change a couple of things up in this place. And in true me fashion, I was not surprised when I left for the store to buy a pair of flip flops and came back with a dozen sparkly stilettos. Some may call it obsessive, some compulsive, I call it a itty bitty mid-life hiccup, OK maybe a little more stinky, let's say a burp but a good garlicky burp after eating shrimp scampi with garlic toast.

So that brings me to this article that I found online yesterday, well that is if you go back to the shoes segway, not the garlic burp. Anyhow it states:

High Heels, Flip Flops, And Ballet Flats Are Apparently No-Nos For Pregnant Women

A recent report from BBC News says that expectant mothers need much more support than they're getting from footwear like ballet flats, flip flops, and high heels. The Society of Chiropodists and Podiatrists polled 1,000 pregnant women and found that many regularly wore all three non-supportive styles, despite complaints of swollen ankles (37%), swollen feet (45%) and arch and heel pain (16%) while pregnant. "The society is urging women to wear supportive, wide fitting shoes to minimize discomfort and avoid long-term damage," the BBC report says.

Whuck? Are you kidding me? There are so many things wrong with this statement. First and the most obvious, the only reason someone should be wearing tennis shoes is if they are going to workout, aspire to workout or want someone to think that they have plans to work out sometime during the day.

Now I have only been prego twice- both times in the summer, but I can honestly say that the last thing I would consider wearing was A PAIR Of SOCKS let alone a pair of sneakers. And supportive shoes I don't even know what those are? If you can't wear flats or flops or heels what does that leave? Brown nurse shoes, I mean even if you bedazzle the hell out of them, they are brown fake leather shoes with spongy heels. And just how is one to tie these supportive shoes with a NBA sized basketball protruding out of ones stomach? My two cents, call it quits, girlfriend, if you have to ask assistance from the lady with the helmet hair and lavendar sensible sweater set in Payless during the annual BOGO sale to assist you as you force your swollen elephant ankle in a pair of "supportive shoes."

So I say we definitely discard this information as false and you pregnant women rock out your flip flops and your stilettos. Because a failed arch is much better than looking like a beached whale in tight sneakers with ultra large cankles hanging over your constricted socks, now red faced because the heat is only allowed to escape from your oversized oven is only from your head. Either that or just go barefoot for goodness sake.

I blame it on Columbia...

2010-05-26T11:11:00.009-07:00

The past nine months in my quest for the holy grail, otherwise known as friendship, I have had to (and sometimes painfully) endure PTA meetings, book clubs, "intimate" parties, Bunco, step classes, boot camp classes, socials and the like, because you know what...peeps were NOT knocking down my door. And that was fine because I knew if I worked hard and kept true to myself, I would find great bunch of gals, and a tribe to call my own. And in these past couple of months I think I finally found them. However I found much, much more.

Wedged in between the coffee meet ups and wine nights, I took a right when I should have veered left at the coconut palm in the middle of the road and I stumbled, no fell face first into ZUMBA and what a difference that has made, I will write more about Zumba in the near future.

But it is his shoulders where I place most of the blame for my absence from blogging.

I will be back...once my feet slow down.

Conversations...

2010-05-11T15:00:00.008-07:00

Those who know me may be surprised to hear this...but some days the highlight of my day is picking up the kids from the elementary school in our carpool. I know, I know spending twenty minutes with six screaming kids in a 5x10 tin can, I mean minivan, can be overwhelming after a day of alone well cultured bliss. But after day of said peace every once in a while I can really use some kid-friendly belly giggles. I mostly enjoy that their little lives are so simple yet their stories about their school day can be so exciting. I mean seriously, besides the tough question these kids face each morning: pack a cold lunch or go for the ever popular (mystery) meat ball sub, life doesn't get any more elementary.

So today, Mac plops into the front seat of the super-van, the gaggle of kids follow slowly behind her. Once settled I see a blue folded note hanging out of her pocket. I gently grab it knowing full well this could get ugly and at any time she is going to rake it out of my hands, start crying and turn bright fuchsia from embarrassment. Did I successfully score the first "love note" of her elementary career? Hell, it is her fault she kept it in such a conspicuous place.

However she doesn't stop me and instead a cheesy grin washes over her face. I realize that I have stumbled head first into her trap. This so called love note was instead a website that you log on to adopt orangutans...yes ORANGUTANS. So we spoke in great deal the remainder of the drive, how not only can you adopt orangutans, but you can also adopt blue whales, gorilla and even a star if you want.

Maybe it is the car that holds the magical key when it comes to a good conversation. For starters there is nothing like having a captured audience myself included. At least in the car I actually listen to what others are saying. Unlike my normal life when I am trying to do ten things at once. Be it a gaggle of kids or our modest family of four car conversations are just that "conversations".

Come to think of it,some of our most meaty conversations have been in the car. We have addressed religion, our beliefs or disbelief (based on who you ask)in ghosts & UFOs, racism and even life choices. Admittedly, I have even considered having the birds and bees talk with Mac from the front seat of my mini-van. Just look at the pros: automatic door locks (no escape), limited eye contact (most of the conversation can be via the rear view mirror), and for learning aids I can utilize the side mirror being sure to explain that images in mirror are actually "larger than appear to be". Plus I can actually use my lap for my written notes and no one will be the wiser. As for cons: I really don't see any.

I mean Seriously, Why Can't I?

No really...

2010-05-05T07:08:00.013-07:00

On the heels of my last post...which I know was completely out there, here was my real week...

Thursday- checked into the Gaylord Opryland Hotel, enjoyed a mojito while reading a book on the "rotating lounge" although at the time I did not notice it was rotating. Not sure how one does not notice they are stepping on to a "rotating bar", maybe it was the excitement of being childless for the weekend. All I know is one minute I was looking over the lobby, the next minute staring at a waterfall. However, fast forward to today, and that bar is 10 feet under water due to the floods in Nashville.

Thursday night- Enjoyed a wonderful steak dinner "ON" the Opryland Stage a few feet away from where Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline were discovered.

Friday- Pulled up in a cab to the Hutton Hotel to see the comedian Sinbad leaving the hotel and getting into his Hummer.

Saturday- Forced to spend the majority of the day in Wild Horse Saloon, due to tornado sirens and warnings.

Saturday night- Last minute took advantage of FREE tickets to Jimmy Buffet, show started at 8pm, I was asked to go at 7:20pm.

Sunday- Evacuated from Nashville due to the floods.

Tuesday- Invited to dinner at a Four Star General's House

Now which story is easier to believe?

I have an excuse...

2010-05-04T11:26:00.003-07:00

You would not believe the couple of weeks I have had...

It all began last Tuesday when I went on a run and was forced to take a detour through our neighborhood park and off the safety of the sidewalk. It was dusk, I became disoriented, and as a result I stumbled over a stump and fell head first into a fox hole.

Three days later, I woke up to a naked mole rat standing on my chest with a terrible overbite, dressed in a tuxedo. After force feeding me Kobe steak and red wine he led me by his minuscule hand or maybe it was a paw, to meet the soulful and smooth talking wizard who looked a lot like Samuel L. Jackson wearing a Kangol top hat. Sam informed me that I was the champion, aka "chick in the hot pink velour sweats", and the land of Odd had been awaiting my arrival. I was scheduled to fight the Jabawockawitch in a fortnight using just my bare hands and a spatula.

So of course, I have a good excuse for ignoring my blog these past couple of weeks. Hey, I was in training.

P.S. And if you are wondering I kicked the Jabawockawitch's ass, brought home her head, cooked it in a crock pot on low and served it over some egg noodles with a side of steamed broccoli.

P.P.S No I haven't lost my mind, but isn't a blog fun?

I mean Seriously, Why Can't I?

50 People, 1 Question...

2010-04-25T09:05:00.001-07:00

Found this on YouTube....

Where would you want to wake up tomorrow if you had a choice?

Floods vs. Fashion...

2010-04-21T07:52:00.005-07:00

Growth spurts, you never know when they are going to hit. Or maybe you do and you choose ignorance over style because you are way too busy or just flat out too lazy to go out and buy some new clothes for the kiddos. And then one morning it is 8:05am and you realize this may be a really bad idea as your daughter is jumping from the bed into a pair of jeans that once buttoned are three inches to short. And although stretching out a cotton t-shirt is a pretty easy feat, stretching the length of a pair of size five jeans to fit a size six body with long legs is almost impossible. You think back, OK the pair she wore on Monday fit well but after a frustrating hunt through the bedroom jungle (it's now 8:15am) you do find them but they are crumbled into a ball, hidden in the back corner under the bed and covered with dried spaghetti sauce.

You take a step back and say aloud, "hey, these jeans are cool, they make great capris." Because your daughter is six going on eleven and is not only picky but she is so over Dora, a borderline fan of Hannah Montana and thinks that the seventeen year old cashier at Wal-Mart is "hot" and going to school looking anything other than "put together" is not an option.

Fast forward to 8:25am and now you are watching your child walk across the schoolyard in her confident, "floods", and into the Kindergarten doors. You realize that she reminds you of that one kid you had in every one of your classes through 5th grade that wore hammy down clothes that were always to small, crooked bangs because they cut them themselves and always had a dried dirt mustache over their top lip.

Time to go shopping...

Out of the mouths of babes...

2010-04-20T07:30:00.005-07:00

Highlight on Cheese...

At the kitchen table at breakfast, out of COMPLETE nowhere,

"Mom, if you get fat I will still love you."

Me: Well let's hope honey you never have to make that choice. As I am eating oreo cookie ice cream out of the container.

Still at the table, "Also if I ever get a step mom, I will love you more because you will be my real mom."

Whuck?

And later in the car after school, she was looking outside at the clouds. Admittedly, they were fluffy and perfect for any little person's imagination.

Me: "What do you see Cheese?"

"I see a dinosaur jumping from cloud to cloud, a bunny in a tutu and a turtle waving at me."

Tribute to National Poetry Month...

2010-04-16T09:49:00.007-07:00

I dread this morning,
Wheels glide and then stick along the dirty linoleum floor.
Perfectly lined cereal boxes adorn the aisles,
whilst athletes and cartoon charters beckon me to take them home.
The smell of orange and raw meat lingers in the frigid air.
And I cock my head to hear "Jungle Love" over the speakers, I smile and tap my toes.
Looks like this day may get better after all.

I round the corner, enter the seasoning aisle, sneeze fifteen times and pee my pants.

Seriously?

You never know what you will find...

2010-04-12T08:16:00.008-07:00

School photos, taken as a way to document your child's growth progress from one year to another, and most recently to document those subtle changes every four months as they are now taken twice a calendar school year. Like I need any more pictures of my kids, I see them ALL THE TIME.

However, if you are like me after you divide up these pictures for your family (in my case unfairly, as someone always gets the shaft and a 5x7 instead of a 8x10, because the people at Lifetouch don't account for divorce) and we grab our two wallets and one for the frig, the rest are shoved into the kitchen drawer with the left over post-it notes that have lost their "post" and the pens that nobody throws away but ran out of ink in 1999.

Maybe it is because I love take so many pics of the girls that I don't put a lot of care or effort in the storage of the remaining 45 wallet photos and one left over 5x7 that no one wants. In fact, I rarely put these photos into frames and they just stay on the refrigerator for the year until they are replaced with the following year's photo.

But if I did place these in frames and five years from now I wanted to donate those picture frames to GoodWill, I think I would have the sense to take the pictures out first. Unlike this family, I found these at the GoodWill the other day and although I felt like an ass taking pictures of the pictures with my phone I had to share the stupidity...this one to me says, "We love you honey, but we just couldn't bother taking out your 5th grade picture before shoving this frame into a box with Dad's old boxing gloves, Mom's cross stiched "Home Sweet Home" Pillow and your brother's old sneakers.

And this one too...

Whuck? I got nothing.

Things Rosetta Stone could not teach me...

2010-04-01T13:20:00.009-07:00

Hola amigos, we have returned from our wonderful Mexico vacation and other than the upper G.I. infection, the road rash from falling down in the street after one too many tequila shots and the temporary weight loss (which I see now is very short lived..the weight loss I mean, because the rash still rages along with the unsettled stomach). So I guess for the most part we are unscathed. I will share some stories from our trip in the near future, but for now I thought I would just put together a list of things that I learned while traveling abroad, things that Rosetta Stone forgot to mention.

1. First, the only people who actually say "no" in Mexico are Americans. Mexicans are constantly saying "si". Hey, taxi driver, can we stop here and grab a bottle of tequila for the road? "Si". Hey, tour bus operator, can you stop here so we can get out real quick and buy some cerveza and groceries? "Si". Hey captain, while don't you pull this boat over to that boat over there, it looks like they have beer to share.

We, on the other hand we are constantly saying "no". Senorita, do you want to buy a silver plated bracelet for a dollar, "no". Senorita, do you want your hair braided, "no gracias". Senorita how would you like to buy a grain of rice with your name on it, "no gracias", a bracelet with your name on it, "no gracias", a tattoo with your name on it, "no gracias".

2. I learned in Mexico that they DO in fact, know the difference between "on the rocks" and "frozen", and what a relief that was. Well actually, bittersweet, as that was the primary reason I bought my Spanish/ English key chain dictionary.

3. I realized that the only person that DO NOT benefit from a three bedroom villa is... the maid.

4. I realized that if part of your boob is hanging out of your towel while you are getting a facial at a fancy spa, best thing is to not reach down to fix it.

5. I learned that you can never get tired of re fried beans and tortilla chips.

6. I learned that drivers in Mazatlan must be really safe drivers because they have no seat belts and carry around their children on their laps while in the front seat.

7. I learned that the most dangerous part of a banana boat ride is actually getting on the banana and then getting off.

8. We learned that "you break it you buy it" is as serious as it sounds.

9. And lastly, some Spanish to English translations just are worth printing on your menu. Especially when dealing with snack fish or "Very good littled boys breaded."

It got a little crazy here again...

2010-03-19T08:43:00.005-07:00

So I am going to Mexico next week (no we are not going to make a taco run in Tijuana (although they have great tacos there) or we are not going to buy pottery in Nuevo Laredo) so don't worry about us. We are heading south to Mazatlan, which is completely safe from what I "choose" to read online which is travel sites with last updates in 2009. Because it would totally suck to get caught up in some kidnapping/ extortion plot while shopping for maracas, WWE wrestling masks and souvenir t-shirts and that say "one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor".

My point is instead of writing a couple of posts I thought I would offer a brief recap of this past week and what you missed if you were not living here at the Cheese factory.

Mac earned 4th place in the Science Fair, so I bought her a MP3 Player. Which sounded like a good idea at the time, she is a good kid. However, a day later I realized that I lost my maid/servant and she is not as enthusiastic to earn that .50 cents unloading the dishwasher as she was last week.

For St. Patrick's Day I pulled out the big guns and cooked Pork and Sauerkraut for my neighbors, instead of Corned beef and Cabbage, not one of my prouder moments.

I did not have green beer this year, and I am still a little bitter about that.

Because I was home alone with the girls this week, it took me three days to get through the two hour American Idol.

I blistered my lip last night after eating junior mints on a graham cracker right out of the microwave. I was going for a smore effect, sans the mallows. But that minty middle is like a weapon and it turns into nearly invisible liquid when nuked.

Happy Spring Break to All! Hopefully when I get back from the Mazatlan or the "place of deer" thanks again WIKI, I will have some good stories to share.

St. Patrick’s Day, To Celebrate or Not to Celebrate, That is the Question

2010-03-15T18:49:00.008-07:00

Since I cracked myself up with my own Haiku, not a good Haiku, but a freakin Haiku none the less. And while I am at it, can I get a shout out for Wikipedia? I must have been at Hardee's for an "extended lunch period" when they taught Haiku 101 at high school or maybe it was taught in junior high and I was in the nurses office with a forged note trying to get out of Phys Ed...AGAIN.

So today I thought whilst I was in the mood I would follow my Rhysling Award Haiku (thanks again Wiki) with a little dity I jotted down in the car pool lane about St. Paddy's Day. You know, maybe for sport I will go three for three and write a Limerick on Wednesday, oh man I wish my English teacher Mrs. Oesterreicher could see me now.

As I creep up on forty, I feel I have to ask,
are forty year old women still beating their flasks?
Are we still able to flock to the pubs the on seventeenth with good cheer?
And more importantly how old is too old to indulge in Green Beer?

So should I go to the pub filled with students for the St. Patrick’s Day party?
Or should I stay home and make my own Whiskey toddy?
For this week, these are the questions that run through my (forty is the new thirty) brain.
Not the dishes or the laundry or the clogged kitchen drain.

Slainte!
(Irish for Cheers or if I was partaking in the frothy green beverage, with my ~~high school buddies~~ college friends, I would most likely just say "Drink til I tell you to stop.")

...BTW I have to come clean, this started as a Limerick, but I gave up halfway through.

...OK, really at no time was it a Limerick, however, it would be the perfect time to write a Limerick with Green Beer this close to St. Paddy's day, right? But that didn't dawn on me until a few minutes ago when I started writing this post. OK will shoot for Wednesday.

...Well, you probably won't see a Limerick on Wednesday either. I hope to be brewing some green beer in the jacuzzi tub so I will be kind of busy. Plus I really don't feel like writing a Limerick, too much work. But if you want to come up with one, I will post it here for everyone to read...you know you can, come on I dare you.

...I double dawg dare you.

...Triple?

Ode to my velour sweatsuits, which are not Juicy, but from Old Navy instead which is why I have more to love...

2010-03-11T11:19:00.003-07:00

A Haiku (and a writing prompt from Mamma Kat)

Not a Golden Girl

But your bright colors bring warmth to me

You are my best friend

On my honor, I will try...

2010-03-11T10:46:00.003-07:00

One of my first couple of posts was about Cheese going to Bible School, you can read it here. For six weeks Cheese and I we went round and round and round about her going to one week of Bible Camp. Hell there was more debate and crossing of lines than over the Health Care Debate. So most recently we have been going Round and Round (I love that song, by Ratt by the way) about Girl Scout Camp. Here was our latest conversation.

Cheese, do you want to go to Girl Scout Day Camp this summer? Mac is going and so are our neighbors.

What is it?

It's girl scout camp. A one week camp themed like one giant Nancy Drew mystery. You remember that movie right?

I don't want to be a girl scout.

Well, you don't have to be a girl scout they are just hosting the Nancy Drew, learn to be a detective, day camp.

It is like school?

Well it is like school but with out the learning part.

So it's like Disney World?

What? Do you think school is like Disney world? It is more like recess.

So is there a playground?

I don't know if there is a playgroup. (in between big deep breaths, with voice raised but not yelling yet) How bout this, it is like a party at school with crafts and treats and all fun stuff but without the phonics. Similar to the 100 Day Party we had at school a couple of weeks ago but instead of doing all things with the number 100, you will be solving mysteries and going on treasure hunts.

Sure, like that. Can I have apple juice instead of water in my water bottle today for school?

Today I am taking a McMulligan...

2010-03-08T12:37:00.005-07:00

Up last night at 1am, 3am and again at 5am. Finally fell asleep and pretty sure REM was established. I was just about to ride some bumper cars with Robert Patterson aka Edward, in my dream when I was harshly awakened by my alarm. Argh...

Got out of bed and realized that I must have pulled out my lower back while sleeping. Double argh...

My eyes itch, again, and this has been going on for a week. What is up with that, argh...

Picked up Cheese from school, she too must have had a shitty day, because she wouldn't get out of the car at Walgreen's voluntarily, so I pulled her out but not before I nearly broke my nose on the top of her head, and ya'll I saw stars. I felt like those old Tom and Jerry cartoons, she was crying, I was crying. Karma strikes again argh...

... so I went through the drive thru of McDonald's, grabbed a McFish sandwich and some fries and just decided to chalk up this day to a McMulligan.

Sure you take it...

2010-03-04T17:54:00.011-07:00

So I pirated this award from the Bloggess. Hey she said I could like totally take it... Well, maybe she didn't really want me to take it, maybe it was one of those "situations". You know the one where you and your girlfriend are shopping and both of you gravitate to the same shiny beacon, a gorgeous silvery purse on sale and the only one of its kind. So you say, "you know what, you buy it, I already have a silver purse, you had a bad week, and you deserve it dude."

Meanwhile you are screaming inside because you have finally found the one accessory that will bring your entire wardrobe into fashionista alignment. This purse not only completes you but you are afraid if you don't take it home with you it will land on your list of regrets right in between the Frye Boots on clearance at Nordstroms that you could buy only if you sacrificed your groceries for three weeks and the cashmere pea coat that you couldn't justify while living in the south, only to received orders that next month for Omaha, NE.

Oh, and if you have never read thebloggess.com than you are totally missing out.

LIFE! Do you hear me? Give my creation... LIFE!

2010-03-03T16:09:00.008-07:00

Today I dedicate this post to my parents. Or to any parents who look at their children one day and feel like Victor Frankenstein. Their monster walks the earth wreaking havoc on all who surround him. But with the power to create of that life, you also assume the responsibility to nurture it and you can never rid the bond that lies beneath, regardless of the "monster's" mistakes. Sure this conversation taken from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is very dark and far more extreme than what we face as parents, but as Victor Frankenstein address his monster Frankenstein, can't you just feel his torment, I mean come on Victor, can I get a big AARRRGGGHHHH....

"Devil", I exclaimed, "do you dare approach me? And do you not fear the fierce vengeance of my arm wreaked on your miserable head? Begone, vile insect? Or rather, stay that I must trample you to dust!" And, oh! That I could, with the extinction of your miserable existence, restore those victims whom you have so diabolically murdered."

"I expected this reception" said the demon. "All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to who thou are bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You propose to kill me. How dare you sport thus with life? Do your duty towards me, and I will do mine towards you and the rest of mankind. "

Yeah, I know dark right?

However, I think Gene Wilder handled it better, from Young Frankenstein...

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: "Love is the only thing that can save this poor creature, and I am going to convince him that he is loved even at the cost of my own life. No matter what you hear in there, no matter how cruelly I beg you, no matter how terribly I may scream, do not open this door or you will undo everything I have worked for. Do you understand? Do not open this door."

Inga: "Yes, Doctor."

Igor: "Nice working with ya."

[Dr. Frederick Frankenstein goes into the room with The Monster. The Monster wakes up]

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: "Let me out. Let me out of here. Get me the hell out of here. What's the matter with you people? I was joking! Don't you know a joke when you hear one? HA-HA-HA-HA. Jesus Christ, get me out of here! Open this goddamn door or I'll kick your rotten heads in! Mommy!"

Take me off your list... I DON'T KNOW YOU PEOPLE!!!

2010-03-02T12:42:00.009-07:00

I have mentioned here and here my mundane, entertaining and sometimes disgusting conversations with my group of girlfriends. What started as a way to report "the news" to each other as we were scattered across the four corners of the universe, has now turned into a 6 month long email trail. A trail that at times leads to a fantastical and imaginary place where divas and bitches rule and the tweedle dees and tweedle dums that stumble across our path later turn into pawns in a giant game of "we own the world, you have a problem with that?" chess.

I have shared here the G and PG-13 versions of this fantastic game. But what I haven't shared is that some of these conversations will at times border on the line of shameless while it disects the line of creepy and then slowly converges onto the plane of just plain wicked.

Well yesterday, thank you very much, oh person that we do not know, with the freakingly similar email name, that you have been receiving these private notes from the five of us. And thank you for your perfectly crafted reply...

Take me off your mailing list... I DO NOT KNOW YOU PEOPLE!!!

Next stop, therapy.

Must have been some superpowers in my coffee creamer...

2010-02-25T08:32:00.005-07:00

Or that was some good Boone's Farm last night...but this morning I woke up and hit the ground running like a hot buff Flash Gordon, straight into my flaming red and yellow supersuit with the super cut yellow high top sneakers ready to face the evil lurking in my house of fortitude. Before I knew it I had organized my entire 12 hour day in the first 45 minutes of the morning. I dressed and styled the natives, packed lunches, pulled a tooth, refereed some potential arguments before they hit UFC status, gave a lesson on cheating and how trading homework and doing your friends assignment is wrong (although you did equal work, it doesn't matter it is still cheating), and even thought about dinner by taking out some meat to thaw on the kitchen counter. Dropped off the kids at school and decided to take a extra lap in the parking lot while hanging out of my sunroof, singing Christina Aquilera, "I'm your super girl / Out to save the world and it keeps gettin' better ..."

Now I do realize that just by typing this and sending to the world I am inviting a whole lot of misfortune to come up on this house and reek major Mxyzptlk havoc on me. And the only way I will be able to get rid of the little rascal will be by saying his name backwards. But that's OK I can take it, I have Wonder Woman's invisible jet parked in the driveway with one way directions to Maui plugged in its invisible navigation system and the Wonder Twins as a back up plan sitting shot gun in pre-morph status debating on whether they should morph to an eagle and a bucket of water or ice rocket engine and an ant and fly me the hell out of here.

Bitchy Friday...

2010-02-18T08:52:00.004-07:00

I am two days late and two shopping trips short for Wordless Wednesday. So today I will call this post, Bitchy Friday, because, and say it with me..."Seriously, Why Can't I?"

I dedicate my post to the BBBs (best band of bitches).

HOW TO BE A GRACIOUS BITCH

Jennifer's wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her excitement - not even her parent's nasty divorce.

Her mother had found the PERFECT dress to wear, and would be the best-dressed mother-of-the-bride ever!

A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father's new, young wife had bought the exact same dress as her mother!

Jennifer asked her father's new young wife to exchange it, but she refused. ''Absolutely not! I look like a million bucks in this dress, and I'm wearing it,'' she replied.

Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, ''Never mind sweetheart. I'll get another dress. After all, it's your special day.''

A few days later, they went shopping, and did find another gorgeous dress for her mother.

When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, ''Aren't you going to return the other dress? You really don't have another occasion where you could wear it."

Her mother just smiled and replied, ''Of course I do, dear.....I'm wearing it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.''

Help I have fallen off the wagon and I can't find my way back on...

2010-02-16T14:20:00.015-07:00

Is it good thing to "fall off the wagon", I never know, because being on the wagon seems pretty smart, I mean it is the fastest way right? I also have trouble when someone says something fell through. Is that good or bad. If your plans fell through does that mean that they are happening or not. I guess it is bad, like if your dog fell through the ice that would pretty much suck. So maybe it is bad that plans fell through. Oh, never mind.

Life has been pretty busy, which is a good thing. My vanilla life is starting to get some colored sprinkles, not enough for a "mix-in" but enough for a child's sundae. But with the sprinkles, I start to neglect the ole' blogo. Which is why I fell off the wagon, or on the wagon, see it all comes full circle. So today I have a segment called having fun with flappers.

Some background...my girlfriends and I had a conversation once about what era would be suit our body type. My friend has a tiny waste so we always said she would be a good "fit" for the fifties, in her cinched waste and poodle skirt glory. Me, on the other hand, I seem to carry my weight in the middle but I have thin legs...so the seventies would be my era, complete with babydoll short dresses, think Goldie Hawn on Laugh In. However, I totally forgot about the 20s and while the 70s would be groovy, I think being a flapper would be the Cat's Meow. The flapper was an icon, challenging notions about gender roles and demanding the same social freedoms as men. Drinking, smoking, bootlegging they always looked like they were having a ball. Not to mention the too cute fringe short dresses, nothing masks a belly than some black fringe. Of course, this would have only been cool until 1928, I then would have to get the hell out of dodge because after that things pretty much went into the crapper.

So today I share some photos (found on the Internet) these are not my photos. But check out how much fun these ladies were having. And since we don't know what they are saying I have captioned each picture with some of my recent email conversations with my girls, sorry bitches some things are too funny not to share.

"They are like a size 2 or 4 and have fake ta-ta's, so they look amazing, I wish I had the balls for fake ones. Damn all my plastic phobias!"

Those bitches (oops I mean ladies) better not give me shit. I am not happy on this low carb shit and I may tell them all to go suck it. No more whining, they either step up or I will tell how it is. I swear, who gives that much crap about Bunco, for the love of Pete, get a life.

"Is there such a thing as "too tacky" at a chili cook-off? I guess I could just black out a tooth, but I think the tequila shots would just wash it off."

"And you know what I could do with that extra $20.53 I'd rake in! Woo-hoo, Dollar General baby, here I come...they sell Boones Farm right?"

"So now they are shitting their pants because they don't know what to do with all the hookers. And they weren't young hot hookers, they were older worn out hookers."

"I think passing it off as a fart is your best bet and avoid the incline sit-ups in the future! If it makes you feel any better I sharted on Saturday while driving the fam around...I'm not joking at all...actual had to throw the panties away shart...It was pretty humiliating, but after eating healthy, that is what BK onion rings did to me."

"OK girls, Plan B, we may want to get a jump on developing those Leopard Printed Depends...it looks like we all may need them earlier than later."

February 12, 2010 Dun dun dun dun dun da, ya say its your birthday...

2010-02-12T23:20:00.002-07:00

Make Funny Fortune Cookies Pictures at Fortune-Cookie-Generator.com

It's my birthday to yeah.

Cookie idea from my pal at BATCRAP CRAZY.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-02-10T19:45:00.004-07:00

Cheese is watching the Disney Channel and Ella is ~~watching~~ ...not.

Do not...

2010-02-09T10:31:00.006-07:00

Following on the heels of my last post, listing things I think it is OK to do. I have a new list to share. I admit, today I awoke just a little bit surly for my taste, a little grumpy if you will. Well actually a whole lot of grumpy, kinda like that feeling you get when you have a gift card to your favorite store and you can't find one stupid thing you like. Not sure, it could be because my coffee wasn't sweet enough this morning or because Cheese is 3 for 3 in throwing fits before and after school this week or maybe because the only muscles that don't actually hurt right now are my fingers from my demon spawn trainer. All I know is the only thing that is keeping me from a cheeseburger and a malted milkshake from Culver's is the fact that I have to put on a bathing suit in about a month, and as I round third base and slide into the big 4-0, I need to have at least one more year rocking the belly button run while sunning under the "she looks OK" cabana before letting it all go.

So here is my list of things that it is not OK to do...

1. Do not send me an email, one sentence and use capitalization like you are yelling at me. And then make it worse by leaning out a closing...Sincerely, Best,Thanks or even In Your Face, would suffice.

2. Do not show any trailers to CSI before 9pm, as there is nothing like watching Wheel of the Fortune with the kids, cut to a commercial to see a guy with his head bashed in laying dead on a baseball field. Please wait to put these commercials on after my kids are in bed.

3. And while I am at it, can you stop running the same preview of Princess Diaries and Princess Diaries Two, that says "Shut Up"... I would rather my kids say "Oh Shit",than "Shut Up".

4. Do not call me on the phone and then start playing a recording.

5. Fed Ex, do not ~~tease~~ leave me a note that you stopped by to deliver something and then make me wait for days before you return again. Thus creating a stalker of me as I hunt you and my package down.

6. Do not walk onto the elevator until everyone else has walked out. Come on, even my kids know this (OK they really don't, and because they don't I am "that" Mom giving "that" lecture on EVERY elevator ride.)

7. Do not tell me about how your doggie agility class is going unless I ask. And that goes for your doctor visit, your 3 hour car repair appointment or your unsatisfying grocery trip. Unless I ask.

8. Do not leave me a cryptic message on my answering machine. You have like two minutes. Hell I can leave a novella in two minutes, surely you have enough time to TELL me why you are calling.

9. Do not use my towel. If you find a towel hanging up and you didn't hang it there, then it is mine, not yours. And if you are under 12 and living in this house, do not leave your towel on the BATHROOM FLOOR.

and lastly, 10. Do not start the laundry unless you plan on... FINISHING it.

It's OK to...

2010-02-08T12:20:00.004-07:00

At the gym today I was reading a June 2008 Glamour Magazine. I am not sure what that reflects more poorly on, the fact that my gym that still has 2008 magazines or the fact that I chose a 2008 Glamour instead of the most recent National Geographic Mag. Admittingly, after forgetting my Ipod, I would have read a copy of New England Journal of Medicine if that was all there was, ANYTHING to take my mind off both the monotony and the pain of walking "uphill" on that damn treadmill.

So in this issue, they had a page dedicated to things it's OK to do without feeling guilty. So to keep my mind off the task at hand (or as I like to call it, project ass shrink) I came up with a list of my own.

Like I think it's OK to...

...when someone compliments your shirt, tell them the price and that it came from Target.

...order both a beer and a carafe of Saki at dinner, I know two drinks at once, pretty empowering, but those Saki bombs aren't going to make themselves.

...wear blue eyeliner or blue mascara or both.

...tell someone your dress is "vintage" even if its not and you purchased it from TJ Maxx last week.

...say "shit" in front of your kids. You wouldn't say it unless you meant it.

...leave the last sip of beer in your glass, we're not in college anymore, no need to chug.

...weep while watching Extreme Home Makeover or that damn commercial with Sarah McLaughlin and the ASPCA.

...tip 15% instead of 20%.

...change you hair color.

...use the word "shart" in a sentence. Like, I shart while in yoga class.

...avoid the airplane rows that have babies in them. Been there done that.

...go to the beach and NOT get into the ocean.

...think that Zac Efron is hot, even though he could be your son.

...sing out loud with air guitar.

...order the house wine.

...defriend people on FaceBook and in real life.

...spend more money on a pair of sunglasses than on your kids clothes.

...carry a purse that's bigger than your head. (That one is for hubby.) In your face.

...take pictures of everything and everyone.

and lastly...it's OK to...order fries with everything.

Did they really say that?

2010-02-04T08:45:00.005-07:00

I carry a Palm Pre, not that it matters what kind of phone I have, because although I have a Pre, like my brain I only use about 30% of it's capabilities. One of my favorite functions is the notes tab. I have to imagine there is a simple way to record these notes, but for now you can find me in an instant dropping everything to type into my stupid phone whenever my kids have something funny to say. This could be in a supermarket, on the Vegas strip or on the side of the highway in the minivan (because of course I would NOT be typing while driving, wink). And I can't tell you how many times Hubby has rolled his eyes at the dinner table because I have to get up to type something into my phone or reached into my purse while knee deep in ravoli at a restaurant to get something down verbatim. I blame it on a-a-a-a- alcohol, the a-a-a-alcohol. I have a very short term memory, what can I say? But if someone knows of a voice recorder on the Pre, let me know how to find it.

That being said, originally I started this blog to record our everyday lives with the goal of one day placing this information into a book to give to the girls. I now realize my plan may have some flaws, because instead of presenting the girls with adorable scrapbooks of their lives from Birth to High School, they will instead each be given: a scrapbook til about age 5 for Mac and 3 for Cheese, a stack of CDs with random photos from ages 4 to 17 with sharpe labels and a copy of the entries of this blog, single spaced, coffee stained and stapled.

So to make sure there are a couple of pages dedicated my wonderful smart children...here is another installment of out of the mouths of babes.

Mac- A boy in my class said that Haiti would probably get more donations if it was called Lovey. After emptying out her piggy bank to donate her $6.43.

While walking down the Vegas strip, for what seemed like forever, Hubby was on the hunt for a Mojito. He kept saying, they have to have a Mojito stand somewhere, this is Vegas for goodness sake. Cheese looks up and says "is Mojito French for a taxi, because I could use a taxi about now."

And again standing on the strip waiting to cross the street, Cheese looking down at all the girlie cards and looks up very confused to say, "why are those two girls touching tongues?" I never wished more that I had 10 feet, one to place over every smutty pictures there in the street.

In the car, Mac says, "OK Cheese pick a city."
Cheese, "United States of America"
Mac, "No smaller, a city"
Cheese, "OK, U.S."

Bird poop and fish pedicures...what?

2010-02-01T14:41:00.001-07:00

Email, I love, love getting email, FROM MY FRIENDS. However, Lara Davis you are not my friend, if you are reading this, NO I don't want to get 2500 direct TV channels and Amy Johnson you also are not my friend and I will most probably not be calling you "before midnight" to claim my really joint prize offered my Microsoft and Yahoo. So stop spamming me.

I try to live by the motto, react or reject. When I receive a email in my inbox, my goal is to either delete or reply. Again that is a goal, I also have a goal to run a half marathon this year and have to say my execution of both plans has started off a little slow, but hey I still have eleven months to get cracking. I say this as I look at the 355 emails sitting in Yahoo purgatory and my running shoes in the corner of my bedroom growing cobwebs. Sure I realize I need to step it up. But how am I supposed to find the time to read and delete 355 emails. And when I find that time, I suppose I will also have to find the time to make the beds take the Christmas decorations down to the basement from the garage, while fitting in my afternoon run.

But since January came and went in a Jack Frost blink of an eye, and February is a new month, today with a renewed outlook, I did start to go through some of these emails and if you really take a minute to look into your inbox and read before you delete you can find some really fascinating stuff. Like this article from Excelle Lifestyle Digest about "5 Disgusting Things We Do for Beauty." About now, my little nail salon down the street sounds like a good as place as anywhere for a pedicure so I think for now I'll stick to the basics. I could barely get past the snakes anyway.

1. Placenta Facial Anyone?

What are we dousing our faces in? Human placenta (used as a hydrating treatment, and costing an average of $500). Snail secretion (the goop apparently blocks out environmental pollution, and also has rejuvenating qualities) and bird poop (nightingale excretion, actually; it’s said to be rich in the amino acid guanine, which brightens and cleanses skin).
This is great and all but can you tell me what I can do with pigeon shit?

2. How bout a Snake Massages?

In Israel, spa proprietress Ada Barak came up with the idea for snake massages. Basically, she placed a mass of entwined snakes onto her customers’ backs, letting the feeling of the snakes’ movement against the skin calm them. And by “them,” we mean her apparently-out-of-their-minds-brave customers. We’d be anything but calm.
Absolutely, positively, no way in hell, not for a million dollars and a beach house.

3. Or a Fish Pedicure?

People across the nation were immediately disgusted when Sherri Shepherd got a fish pedicure on a July 2008 episode of The View. What’s a fish pedicure? It’s an unconventional beauty treatment in which a group of small garra rufa fish, a type of carp, help exfoliate the feet by feeding on the dead, flaking skin (we just puked in our mouths a little). Since news of the treatment first swept across a variety of media channels, several states and animal rights groups have sought to ban them.
This doesn't sound so bad, I mean hey, if the fish like to eat feet, let them eat feet. Plus they don't have souls anyway... for my PETA friends:)

4. Or how bout a Booty Surgery?

We’ve already written about beauty queen Solange Magnano’s unfortunate demise resulting from, of all things, a butt lift. Apparently, the liquid injected into Miss Magnano’s behind traveled to her lungs and brain, causing respiratory failure. As if we didn’t already need a reason to stick with the butt that God gave us, this sad, sordid tale clinches things for us.
RIP, Hey M you may be onto something.

5. Labiaplasty. What????

Do you know what’s uncomfortably close to our labia? The clitoris, the most sensitive of women’s erogenous zones. And if that gets nicked, we’re screwed.
(no pun intended right) Otherwise I got nothing.

Lions and Tigers and Bears, well really just Lions

2010-01-26T16:08:00.009-07:00

Meet Simba.

Simba was purchased for Cheese (my 6 year old) while shopping in Las Vegas. Simba was purchased not only as a reward for good behavior but also as a bribe for future behavior. Cheese loved her little Simba and carried him EVERYWHERE.

On the Vegas Strip

To Dinner

To the Bathroom...

Well things didn't quite workout in the bathroom. This is Simba soaked with toilet water after Cheese tried to balance him on mom's leg without her knowledge, just as I got up from the toilet. It was a miracle he made it because if it wasn't for mom reaching into the bowels of Vegas, he would have been sucked up by the industrial strength stainless steel toilet outside of Serendipity III. And would now be living where the swamp monsters run free and the ghosts of the Rat Pack drink dry martinis and sing in perfect harmony. Cheese wasn't so appreciative.

Because this is Cheese having her photo taken in the bathroom stall, immediately after "the incident", by her mother (pants down around ankles), thus securing her a future seat on a comfy couch with her therapist when she gets older.

Good times...

Classy Co Co...

2010-01-23T22:51:00.003-07:00

No this is not a post about Co CO Chanel… but more about Conan O’Brien, late night talk show host. As we head into 2010 maybe we can taken Conan’s dignity, his class and his words of wisdom and use them as a guide to our own life while we wait for our turn to ride the bull, lasso the cow or just be the clown in our own rodeo of life.

Admittedly, I am not a huge fan of Conan O’Brien, I didn’t write NBC to keep his show on nor did I camp out to be a part of his last performance. None the less I caught his finale last night and in case you missed it, here was Conan’s final speech as he said good night to the Tonight Show.

"Walking away from The Tonight Show is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Making this choice has been enormously difficult. This is the best job in the world, I absolutely love doing it, and I have the best staff and crew in the history of the medium. But despite this sense of loss, I really feel this should be a happy moment. Every comedian dreams of hosting The Tonight Show and, for seven months, I got to. I did it my way, with people I love, and I do not regret a second. I've had more good fortune than anyone I know and if our next gig is doing a show in a 7-11 parking lot, we'll find a way to make it fun.

And finally, I have to say something to our fans. The massive outpouring of support and passion from so many people has been overwhelming. The rallies, the signs, all the goofy, outrageous creativity on the internet, and the fact that people have traveled long distances and camped out all night in the pouring rain to be in our audience, made a sad situation joyous and inspirational.

To all the people watching, I can never thank you enough for your kindness to me and I'll think about it for the rest of my life. All I ask of you is one thing: please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism -- it's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere.

Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

Escaping to Vegas...

2010-01-23T20:01:00.003-07:00

Where do you go to escape reality? The beach? Snow Skiing? A mountain retreat?

Well last week I spent my escape from the reals in Las Vegas. And on the contrary, let me say that nothing gives you a good ole "kick in the reality pants" than a trip to where "America goes to show off their Cleavage." To my point, nothing quite washes down last nights reality "hangover" than a $7.00 skinny caramel latte served with a $10.00 chocolate croissant.

Throughout the week, these waves of reality crashed into and out of my days, along with some pretty wonderful moments. For instance, I had a great moment, when I walked away from Craps on Monday a winner. And a reality moment when I played on Tuesday and spent that weeks grocery money. A great moment, a helicopter tour over the skyline at night, on the top of the world. And the the next morning, a reality moment, as I squinted into the bright morning sun with this time a liquor induced hangover, and realized that I was standing knee deep in nudie "business cards" and dried strawberry daiquiri which was now sticking all over my uncomfortable (but expensive) Vegas shoes.

I started to realize that while it is great to escape from my podunk vanilla life in the plains and for me into the bright lights of the big city, all the while wearing my patton leather boots and sequined tanks...I really missed my Ugg boots and velour tracksuits.

Random Tuesday Thoughts...

2010-01-12T13:49:00.004-07:00

Randomness, that word couldn't be any more perfect on how I would describe today, well actually the past two days.

For starters I am working on my laptop, and will be until I find out how NOT to buy another HP...Why you ask? Because after all the wonderful things I had to say about technology on my last post, mostly refering to my phone...I must have pissed off oh great Computer One, because that God the one that looks over our computer memory got his feelings hurt, and well he crashed my computer Sunday night. I mean seriously did you not get enough sacrificial RAMs last year (get it) that you had to find search me out and crashed my desktop. And those guys at Geek Squad, you can suck it too my little eighteen year old pubescent nerds. Thanks for nothing.

Also yesterday I turned a simple oil change in the mommobile into a buy an oil change get new brakes for NOT FREE...$300 later. What is the car diety in kahoots with wise oh wise computer one?

Now, onto today, I am buried under 14 loads of laundry as we get ready for our Vegas trip next week. No I am not complaining about the Vegas trip (that my friends is the light at the week end's tunnel). But with that comes four other projects that need to be done for work, BEFORE the trip, on my LAPTOP.

I am also feeling guilty because Cheese is in with the ~~babysitter~~TV, watching Spongebob and Martha Speaks with a little Drake and Josh mixed in, because there is nothing like expanding her mind, her language and her hormones with a little bit of teenage angst. "No honey, if we feed our cats alphabet soup they will not start talking like Martha." "I do realize that Spongebob is six and has a job." "And yes, I agree, Drake is hot."

And to be quite honest, all I really want to do is to devour a container of Wal-Mart "happy" cookies with the pink frosting and sprinkles, but instead I will have a Quick Trim/ Laxative combo chased with a Diet Mt. Dew because if I don't the cocktail dress I bought for said trip will not zip.

There is, however, some good news... I just received this email from bNet.com. Regarding an article adressing the challenges of modern life: email, Twitter feeds, instant messaging, text messages, and other snippets of information are coming at us so fast that it’s hard not to feel under digital attack.

A University of London study done for Hewlett-Packard (they can kiss my ass by the way) found that “infomania” — a term connected with addiction to email and texting — can lower your IQ by twice as much as smoking marijuana. (WHAT?) Moreover, email can raise the levels of noradrenaline and dopamine in your brain by constantly introducing new stimuli into your day. When those levels get too high, complex thinking becomes more difficult, making it harder to make decisions and solve problems — key roles for all managers.

OK, gotta go, peace out, hippies. I am outta here, going to score "some happy cookies", I mean seriously why can't I?

Ten Questions...

2010-01-10T19:44:00.010-07:00

I remember when I was a kid I had a project where I had to answer 50 questions about the first 40 Presidents of the United States from place of birth to length of term and slogans used against their opponents "54 40 or fight"~ James K Polk. And my source for this assignment, the World Book Encyclopedia, circa 1976. I remember still the burgundy leather bound books swelled with yellow tattered pages and corners folded to mark important pages. It took me about a week to gather all of that boring ass information from the books and place it into a report. And since my set of encyclopedias only covered up to Ford so I still had to muster up the energy to search the library for Carter and Reagan adding another couple of days of work.

Fast forward twenty plus years and holy cow, Mr. Dewey Decimal, while I am still forever in debt to your wealth of knowledge and enamored by your vastness, I worry for your future old man. Don't worry, you won't lose me as a patron as the older I become the more I realize your importance and still get aroused by the mere mention of the library. But then again I also get excited walking out to mailbox and a little giddy when I open the morning newspaper and have a sip of warm coffee.

But technology is giving you a run for your money pops...you better strap on a jet pack and propel yourself into the next decade and get ahead of the speeding bullet technology train...because as I was driving home tonight I began to think of all the ways I have used my Palm Pre phone to find out random information, and in most cases I found it out in less than a minute from the front seat of my car. I mean did you know that...

10. I can find out why Bear Grylls gave himself an enema on a raft last night on Man vs. Wild?

9. I can search for what they call the name of the bad ass flying dragon on Avatar so I cand then put it in my FB status as wanting to buy one.

8. I can use my phone to google the "correct" pronunciation of the word conch to settle a dispute between friends (and it is pronounced conk in case you are wondering).

7. I can use google maps to find out the closest IHOP, because they are the only "international house" that serve chocolate chip pancakes within a 30 mile radius.

6. I can read Pride and Prejudice, that took less than a minute to download.

5. I can take a snapshot of the Rocky Mountains and save it as my wallpaper.

4. I can find out what time, exactly, the International Space Station will be flying overhead.

3. I can also find out what time it will start snowing (within an hour) so that I can make sure my car is parked securely in the garage.

2. I can use it to RSVP YES for a helicopter ride over Vegas. Best watch out flying Elvis.

And lastly...

1. I can find out what color bras my girlfriends are wearing...

The project, because I can't get any more creative than that...

2010-01-08T13:12:00.013-07:00

I started this post in my head about a hundred different ways. First as maybe a list of forty goals I want to accomplish this year, and since I turn forty next year I would call it forty b4 forty (not my original title) but nice huh?
And I was going to place those forty goals here for blogland to see, hoping that my listing them here would not only make me accountable, but I would encourage others to post their goals. Until I got to number six. 6. Be authentic... and I started to think, you know what exactly am I doing here?
So I looked up authentic- Synonyms: genuine, real, veritable; to share the sense of actuality and lack of falsehood or misrepresentation. Genuine refers to objects or persons having the characteristics or source claimed or implied.

So my authentic self, decided to take over...First goals are in most cases unmeasurable, and forty, what the hell am I thinking? Forty first of all is a stupid number (or that could be the fact that I resent moving closer to that number this year). And second, it seems a little overambitious don't you think? Especially in just one year. I may not be good with math but that is like 1 and 1/2 a week, and number #4 on my list was to have a hand in world peace, and I mean A) that is like totally unmeasurable and 2)it that really how I want to spend my time? And when I thought really hard about it, the only one who be that would really gain anything from my "goals" would be my overbearing "ego" who would just love to track me down on December 28th of this year and let me know with its nasally (Janice from Friends voice), "I told you so, I knew you couldn't accomplish that much in one year."

So scratch that horse shit. Forget goals, I am going to change my plan...instead I will start a list of small things that I would like to learn, finish or try this year. Focusing more on what I CAN accomplish than setting unrealistic goals that don't match my authentic self anyway. My list will be every changing and I will be able to add more as I see fit, because it is my list and we can say it together, SERIOUSLY WHY CAN'T I?

I have started this list on my about me page and will be a challenge to see how many items I CAN in fact cross off. And for the name of this great project... it is just, the project...because I can't get any more creative than that. Wanna play?

But before I go, I leave you with just one more book of inspiration maybe something that will help you to put together a list...it is called be, complied by Kobi Yamada . Wait, what I meant to say is I leave you with one more damn book of inspiration, ahhh that feels better. Here you go.

Be...be present, be first, be daring, be proactive, be constructive, be resourceful, be brilliant, be brave, be spontaneous, be resourceful, be alive...be yourself

I feel an essay coming on...

2010-01-05T10:39:00.007-07:00

Five, five, five. A great number, FIVE. Lots of great things come in 5, a pack of gum, the Jacksons (did), fingers & toes, a bingo card has five rows, a kit kat bar. Oh, you are so going to run out and buy a kit kat bar to check this out aren't you? Actually it only comes in four mouth watering sticks, but at least I got your attention.

What I am getting at is that today is the 5th day of January and I have to say sport fans, I am really digging this year so far all five days of it. I have accomplished everything I have set out to do accomplish, mostly by making my daily list small and manageable. I even remembered to take my reusable bags into the store today. Take that Wal-Mart! I can feel it in my wee bones, 2010 is going to be a great year.

So to that fact, I have been reading a book called The Daily Reader, by Fred White, 366 selection of great prose and poetry to inspire a production and meaningful writing life. I read it each morning after my cup of coffee in a private place (if you get my drift). This morning I read for the first time a portion of "An Essay on Criticism" by Alexander Pope, which completely moved me (pun inteneded). It was written by Pope during the Age of Enlightenment, a time that was attributed to the "rise of modern science, democratic rule and the re-evaluation of the humanity's relationship to nature."

Reading it the first time, I understood took poem as a call against those who critique and judge without cause. And since is one of my "resolutions" for 2010 I found these words to be inspirational and wanted to share with someone. And since my husband thinks I am part wacky- part delusional, I thought I would post it here instead of reading it to him and share it with people who would appreciate it. Enjoy.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring, judgement and misguide the mind,
What the weak head with strongest bias rules
Is pride, the never-falling vice of fools,

Whatever Nature has in worth deny'd,
She gives in large recruits of needful pride;
For as in bodies, thus in souls, we find
What wants in blood in spirits, swell'd with wind:
Pride, where wit fails, steps in to our defence,
And fills up all the mighty voice of sense.
If one right reason drives that cloud away.
Truth breaks upon us a resistless day.

Trust not yourself; but your defects to know,
Make use of ev'ry friend- and ev'ry foe.
A little learning is a dang'rous thing:
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
...

A perfect judge will read each work of wit
With the same spirit that its author writ:
Survey the whole, nor seek slight faults to find
Where nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.

Bare with me...

2010-01-03T13:57:00.002-07:00

Beeeeeeep.

You have reached a website that is experiencing technical difficulities due to the fact that the owner doesn't know shit about HTML.

Hopefully things will be back to "normal" or close to it soon.

Come back now ya hear!

B-O-B-B-Y B-O-W-D-E-N....

2010-01-01T14:19:00.007-07:00

As I look into my crystal ball I can certainly tell you that this will by my first and ONLY football related post ever (well unless Brett Farve leaves his wife and becomes my boy toy or Tom Brady has an affair on Giselle.)

So today it is with a sad heart that I sit here on my couch, tear(s) caught in the corner of my eyes, wearing my pjs (and not nursing a NYE hangover- darnit) watching my beloved Bobby Bowden, coach of the FSU Seminoles take the field for the very last time.

Growing up in Tallahassee, Florida and later attending FSU (during the good years, National Championship twice baby), then becoming a graduate and an Alumni, it is safe to say a piece of my garnet and gold heart will be walking away in the next 50 seconds through the stadium tunnel where the Football legends run wild.

Dadgummit Bobby Bowden I will miss you!!!

2009 was fine but 2010 is where its at...

2009-12-31T10:32:00.004-07:00

As I have stated here over and over, I am a optimist, a rose colored designer sunglasses wearing (yet purchased at TJ Maxx for half the cost) optimist. So you will not find me here complaining about 2009. I mean seriously, what do I have to complain about? My kids are healthy, we are warm, we eat well (actually from November 25th and on, too well, and you can suck it sugar cookies!). And we can still afford our house payment even able after those jack balls on Wall Street screwed everything up.

2009 was a good year. Not a great year but a good year and I will take a good year over a not so good year any day.

But 2010, better watch out. Because I am taking 2010 by storm, like a bad ass Spartan against the legions of the Persian army. I may be outnumbered and flanked on both sides, but with 300 of my closest warrior friends (preferably buff men wearing loin clothes**), I will crush you and mold you into a year of DESIRE: running a half marathon, finishing my book, reworking my blog and numerous work goals. (**OK, maybe I don't know 300 buff men, but I was already down that dank dirt road so I had to keep my stride.)

In any case, you better hide 2010 unless you want to get your ass handed to you in a Rachel Ray 5 Quart Saute Pan, with a apple sticking out of your sorry mouth.

Call 1-800 CHRISTMAS

2009-12-26T17:57:00.001-07:00

POP rang the champagne cork, 4pm, Christmas Day. The glorious sound was heard round the kitchen, children were startled but us adults cheered in unison as we started to pour our first Christmas Day cocktail. If I had my druthers I would have cracked open a bottle for my morning mimosa, feeling a little under the weather I could use the vitamin C for Christ's sake (no pun intended). But since I would have been the only one hittin the hooch on Christmas morn, so "we" decided to wait until it a more appropriate time within the mountain standard time zone happy hour guidelines. Later, we would realize that 4pm was way too early to start celebrating "Christmas in a Glass" when you are cooking a Christmas Feast for seven.

Here were the chain of events as they played out last night:

4:00pm Poured a Bellini and preheated oven to 375

4:15pm Started whipping up filling for pumpkin pie

4:30pm Mac and Cheese while snapping green beans got in fight over number of green beans allotted to each, so I poured my second Bellini, ran out of peach schnapps, dammit, but on the upside the kids did get a little bit quieter

5:00pm Made a cheese plate since everyone started bitchin that they were hungry, where did I put my drink? So poured another cocktail this time with cranberry juice and champagne.

5:30pm Another fight emerged, this time over play-doh and the mix vs. not mix debated. Someone cried, someone went into time out. I handled it by pouring a fourth champagne cocktail.

6:00pm Started dancing in the kitchen to the Black Eyed Peas..."I Got A Feeling, Tonight's Gonna be a Good Night"

6:30pm Poured another Glass of Christmas Cheer

6:45pm Continued the dance party

7:15pm Ho-ly turkey shit, realized we (I mean I) never put the bird in the oven. In desperation, called the 1-800 Butterball Hotline hoping for a hail mary, maybe there is a quicker way to cook turkey...placed on hold.

7:25pm While on hold, pulled pumpkin pie out of oven, dropped it on floor. Hung up with 800-butterball and starting dialing Crisco Pie Hotline 1-877-7468, it is even more important that we have pie, placed on hold.

7:30pm Spilled cranberry juice all over the floor trying to make my seventy-ith cocktail while holding on to the phone, still on hold with the Crisco peeps. Found out that Ocean Spray too has a phone number so hung up on Crisco and dialed the Ocean Spray Consumer Hotline at 1-800-662-3263...forget the turkey and the pie, we are out of champagne cocktails, SOS please send cranberry!!!

8:00pm Ate leftover ham, stale rolls and bud light

...OK, I am sooo kidding, the fact is we had a beautiful dinner. We cooked and consumed seven pounds of primed rib, cooked to perfection I might add. It was accompanied with buttered potatoes and garlic green beans and finished off with a succulent cherry cheesecake and obligatory pumpkin pie, of course. Christmas cocktails WERE included but not with the frequency mentioned here, also no children or adults were hurt while writing this blog.

Why Can't We All Live in a Gingerbread Mansion...

2009-12-23T12:19:00.006-07:00

Wordful Wednesday- Holiday Edition
I am not sure what takes the most effort when constructing a Gingerbread House. Controlling the spackle/frosting as it spues out of the plastic poorly constructed manufactured bag it came in, keeping said frosting off of every surface within a 3 foot radius (including light fixtures, floor and your Christmas Card holder) while frosting, trying to encourage your children to actually use the candy for decorations instead of an appetizer/precursor to lunch or having the courage to walk out of the kitchen while Extreme Home Make Over takes over.

So each year I try to take one more baby step back and let the kids construct their own house, thus letting the frosting come alive and the gumdrops half eaten stick to wood floor. And they are excited about their autonomy for about an hour, then their ADD kicks in and/or Spongebob Christmas comes on the tube, and interest is lost. So like Harvey Keitel in Pulp Fiction, and I step in as the cleaner and finished up the project and put my flair on it. All in all, another Christmas memory is created, mostly created by me. But if we have nothing else than we have our memories, even if a good deal of my time was spent yelling and cussing at the kids. So here is what we can up with this year:

So I am feeling pretty good about myself, our gingerbread box has been checked, next on the list to tackle, cookies for Santa. Then I get this email. Now, I am sure you have one too, that girlfriend, you know the one that is so freakin talented and artsy crafty that even her monogrammed craft crates have labeled containers inside. Her kids underwear have been embroidered with their names and her food pantry is organized by shape and color. Well, ours is "L", and although she is engineer by trade, holy gumdrop hell, she sent me a photo of her Gingerbread mansion. Kinda makes my house look like the before dilapidated house from Extreme Home Makeover; pipes broken, mildew in the tub and cracks in the wood floors.

Hark the Hearld Angels Sing...

2009-12-18T11:24:00.001-07:00

I could hear their sweet voices echoing throughout the bank/ post office/ real estate office as I dropped the 150th letter into the mail slot. "Glory you are fi-n-ished..."

That's right kids, I have mailed my last Christmas card, bought my last present and ordered my last online gift, sweet holy mother of little baby Jesus.

There are, however, some repercussions left in my Christmas dust. For instance, my credit card now has an attitude, a little resentment if you will and has threatened to embarrass me in public next time I foot the bill for friends at a swanky restaurant or wait in a long ass line to buy that necessary fur vest I have my eye, by stopping me in my tracks with a big fat gratuitous DECLINE. And my American Express, she has turned into quite the slut, as she hasn't seen so much action since the Madonna/ Britney lip lock in 2003.

On the up side, Amazon.com has given me a lifetime key to their special gold treasure box, for instance today I can purchase The Wrestler on Blu-Ray for $6.99. And yesterday it was a Mothers Powerball Mini Polishing tool for $19.99, how did they know that was on my list? I think I would rather they offer me Free Super Saving Shipping for every purchase over $100.01. Oh and Walmart has framed a headshot taken of me this morning sans make-up with a slight hangover and placed it damn near the Employee of the Month's photo, well actually it hangs around the corner close to the men's bathroom, but it reads, "Customer with the most visits in December (and it's not even over yet)." And Hobby Lobby is now sending me 40% coupons each week for all my business and they have asked me to teach a class on how to purchase and then return and then purchase again then return random Christmas decorations.

So all in all a decent couple of weeks. OK don't get your Christmas panties in a bunch, I haven't been hittin my coffee with the hooched up eggnog to think that I am completely done. As I am sure I will have a pop-up, you know a random friend that sends over a Christmas card, someone not on my original list and then I will, in turn, have to stuff and impersonal envelope and send one back. And I also realize that it would be impossible to think that I will go these next seven days without stepping my knock off designer boot in one store, I mean who am I kidding? It is about as unreasonable as thinking there are no more girls left to fall out of the tree that Tiger backed into. Boo yah...sorry Tiger.

But for today, right now, in this moment this Superhero aka "ShopperMom with the Christmas Belt Attachments" has won this year's round against the always aloof Christmas Spirit and won. See ya next year loser.

Awards are the bestest Christmas gift...

2009-12-17T08:44:00.005-07:00

About ten years ago I had my first "Betty Crocker" Christmas. That year not only did I receive a crockpot, but I also found under the tree a sewing machine, a book on how to use said sewing machine and a set of pots and pans. I was not a happy Betty crocker camper. How in the hell did I become a housewife? I went to bed a rockstar and woke up a mother carrying an extra 20 pounds of baby fat, awful brown roots where my blonde hair used to be and my mojo buried under three feet of snow in the backyard. A crockpot, seriously, and what's hiding in the coat closet, a homemade pasta maker? I was barely 29 and wasn't quite ready to trade in my leather mini-skirt for an apron just yet. Sure I did mention the "future" need for these gifts in sort of the same way you may "mention" quietly to your spouse that you monthly bill has come a couple of days early and you won't be able to hit the sheet that night, (all the while grinning inside because you know you are off the hook.) That is how I mentioned those items above, just in passing and mostly under my breath. So you can imagine my surprise when I tore open the great big box that was mocking me under the tree for weeks...maybe it was a TV, that pair of boots I had been coveting, or a fur coat...nope just a set of pots and freakin pans.

Ten years later, I still have my crockpot (which I adore) and my sewing machine (which I like, but it can't stand me) and as I look back today, that may have been the best Christmas yet. As time has progressed, and we become homemakers and moms, it seems our Christmas lists gets shorter and shorter. I now have both an apron and a leather mini-skirt, a large crockpot and a small one for cheese dip. I have been through four sets of pots and pans and the china that I had to have it still sitting in its original box. Other that searching gifts.com, for ideas I have nothing else on my list.

So I was so happy to get the above award from Lindsey
What a nice present...I mean really nice. This so beats the three books I have purchased for myself, wrapped and placed under the tree, what, I need to open something on Christmas...

So if I have this correct (this is only my second award) I need to list five things about myself and pass this along to five more rockstars. So let's see.

1. I stayed up until 1am last night taking self portraits trying to mimic a picture I saw online.

2. I pray every night before bed for my children to live until they are 100 and continue to stay healthy and happy.

3. Not a day goes by that I don't think of my girlfriend K battling brain cancer.

4. I would like to finish the book that I started.

5. I think Christmas morning is one of the most magical mornings of the year with or without kids. Or maybe that is the Champagne talking.

Now to pass this on...here are some of my new friends/ fellow rockstars. I appreciate their support and love to hear their comments when they stop by.

1. BATCRAP CRAZY

2. Peeling an Orange with a Screwdriver

3. Waddlers and Toddlers

4. Aspen Mommy Blogger- is Dis Normal?

5. That Girl Blogs

Look at his face, even Ben does not approve...

2009-12-16T19:26:00.007-07:00

Man, this Christmas season is truly kicking my ass. While I am completely organized in my head, unfortunately this information seems to be locked up with a steel reinforced padlock, however the only key was swallowed by good ole St. Nick and is lodged in the fat crease of his big ole belly.

My lists and have lists, and just when I think I have one shopping list complete, a new one forms like a f**king Christmas green starfish. No kidding, I have spent money every day on Christmas crap since December 2nd, crap and other "necessities"**. However, just today I happy to say that can I finally see the shiny north star at the end of the gingerbread tunnel after buying my last two teacher gifts.

** So when I say necessities, let me clarify. Using this blog as my therapy, first let me lie down on my office couch for a minute, ok that's better. Yes, it is true that I have purchased something in store OR on line everyday since December 2, sure me likey to shop, my mother swears to this day that my first word was KMart(hey, they had good ham back in their deli days). But today as I rode my ~~go cart~~ shopping cart out to my minivan (again WalMart carts like Costco are built for speed and weight) I glanced down at my receipt and I have to admit that I was shocked to see the necessities that hitched a ride into my cart. Talk about flying on Christmas autopilot, I went in for just two gift cards and a frozen pizza. I came out with:

Three packs of silly putty
Two spin toothbrushes
Two palletes of eye shadow
Four lipglosses
Seven wood bowls & plates
One pack of pens
One pack of pencils
Box of couscous (wtf?)
Shampoo
Two boxes of Eggos
Fifteen pairs of gloves
Ten warm winter hats
Two cans of chick peas
Box of Lucky Charms
Box of Golden Grams
Two frozen pizzas
One bag of sour patch kids
Box of paperclips
Bag of rubberbands
and a partridge and a pear tree...

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun...Part 3 of 3

2009-12-10T08:59:00.026-07:00

New York is where I'd rather stay.
I get allergic smelling hay.
I just adore a penthouse view.
Dah-ling I love you but give me Park Avenue.

...The chores.
...The stores.
...Fresh air.
...Times Square

You are my wife, goodbye city life. Land locked, fourth tier, snowy cold, scalding hot cities with mosquitoes and mountains and ethanol we are there...

There you have it, I admit I am a city girl. Like a mouse to cheese, like the Top Ten List to Dave and high kicks to the Rockettes, I find that me and the Big Apple are a match made in 5th Avenue Heaven. I mean it totally makes sense, my best attributes could only be appreciated in a clamorous fast paced city. I walk quickly, and with purpose. I talk at the speed of light and very loud (I have been told to leave the room on almost every phone conversation I have EVER been on by the Big Cheese). Oh, and I can hail a taxi like nobodies business. It is a shame that "skill" doesn't get much practice in my everyday life, but given the opportunity I can hail the crap out of a cab.

So to say the past week spent in New York City was wonderful is a understatement. I felt like a 10 year old that was the 121st caller and won tickets to the Jonas Brothers/ Taylor Swift/ Hannah Montana Megaconcert. I literally bounced on a pogo stick from store to restaurant to store again, shopping and eating and drinking and shopping as if the Mayan's were really onto somthing and their predictions actually held any water and the world was in fact coming to an end. So today I share my week with you, along with some pictures. By the way, if you were in NYC last week and someone stepped on your toes, blinded you with a flash held inches from your eyes and did not apologize because they were to busy shooting random photos of EVERYTHING, than that was me, sorry dude.

1. First, I found the one place in America where the Men's bathroom line is longer than the womens, a New York Rangers Hockey Game. So if you don't want to wait to pee than go to Madison Square Gardens and pick up a ticket, and a $9 beer.

2. I also found that Matt Lauer is really quite handsome in person. Al's lap band is really working. And Meredith and Anne hit the Plaza working the crowd each morning wearing 5 inch heels, ouch.

3. It is true that a Peppermint Mocha from Starbucks just tastes better in New York. 'Nough said. Well OK, one more thing. So this picture is not cup of Starbucks, but it made me warm and fuzzy just like some mocha cocoa. Taken from the window at Bergdorf Goodman's.

4. Mass transit: While I didn't fear for my own safety riding the subway, I couldn't get over the sick feeling that my kids were going to either a) be sucked up by the force of the wind of the train or 2)fall right into the train track or 3)catch some horrible food and mouth disease. Between the subway and the grids in the street, and the shit and pee, I just knew I had the making of a story in the New York Post. I am waiting for my fifteen minutes, but that is definitely not how I would like it to go down.

5. Roasted chestnuts smell wonderful, but taste like rubbery leather. Hot pretzels served with some ~~asphalt~~, I mean salt, smell like rubbery leather but taste wonderful.

6. The movie Night of the Museum, was much, much better than the actual Museum. "Don't do it Dum Dum."

7. On the other hand, the Macy's Day Parade is really much better live than on TV. Even if you didn't have the names of the celebrities written in purple at the bottom of your TV screen to alert you who was who. You see, if you see it live you can make up celebrities of whoever you want to see and narrate the parade yourself. So not only did we see Heather Locklear like 5 times, but my brother was able to share with the crowd that US Jump Rope Team was actually "Jumping for Jesus." All of this while we drank screwdrivers out of mini paper coffee cups, picked at a left over pastrami sandwich from the night before, introduced the kids to Snoopy and watched Mom practically plow down some geeky women in elf caps as she chased down the street after the cast from the Days of our Lives.
Good times!

Our Trip to New York City...Kids View 1 of 3

2009-12-07T12:57:00.015-07:00

As I travel back from the land of dreams and douche bags, aka New York City, to the frozen white tundra I affectionately call home, I realize there is so much to share about our trip. But instead of boring you with the play by play, detail after detail, after all this isn't a travel blog, geesh. Not saying I wouldn't like to start a travel blog, I mean if anyone runs into a editor say from, Conde Nast and they have an opening for ~~someone to research warm weather island destinations for free in exchange for 1000 words typed double spaced~~ I mean a travel correspondent than I am SOOO totally game.

So instead I thought I would shake things up and put together a three day series written each day from the perspective of each of the family, similar to our dinnertime game "high/low". Today we will start with Mac and Cheese, followed by The Big Cheese tomorrow and ending with yours truly on Wednesday. (Disclaimer: this is the schedule as of now barring a fever, puke, a snow day or anything that would throw a wrench in this plan). Of course, I will embellish and fill in the blanks but don't worry they won't be James Frey embellishments more like Gail King while eating her favorite cheeseburger. Our conversations while making dinner Saturday night.

1. Mac: Hey mom, did you know that TV sets on the back of airplane seats are the coolest thing, like ever. I spent my entire trip watching the FoodNetwork, do you know we can cook an entire holiday meal in just one hour?
Cheese: Well, I loved watching and singing to Dora.
Mac: Yeah I saw you watching and kicking the seat in front of you to the beat of ..D.D..D Dora, D...D..Dora, that was why that lady kept turning around, not to hear your singing voice.

2. Me: So what did you think of the Macy's Day Parade? (I should note that we were ten people thick, and two people high. It was like trying to peer over the Great Wall of China.)
Mac: I couldn't see anything, not even one float, I just put my camera up in the air and kept taking pictures. And what was Grandma screaming about, she kept yelling "Hope, Hope, there's Hope from my soap. Move outta the way!" I though she was going to push over those ladies wearing those dumb the elf hats.
Cheese: "Mom, who was that big dog balloon again?
Me: That was Snoopy. (Can you believe that, how did I manage raise my thus far without a knowledge of the Peanut Gang. Have all my Pig Pen references gone to waste? And what about all my Lucy is a bitch and don't be such a Linus...wasted.

3. Cheese: I remember down in the subway everyone kept saying, "don't touch that", or "someone peed there", "stop touching everything, you just touched pee and maybe even poop." I guess I touched a lot of poop.

4. Mac: Oh, yeah, and we spent three hours eating Thanksgiving dinner. We spent three hours watching football. I think we spent three hours eating dinner every night.
Cheese: You know we didn't even eat Turkey for dinner, it was Ham.
Mac: It was Turkey.
Cheese: No it wasn't, it was a pig not a turkey. I would know.

5. Cheese: We went to FAO Schwartz, I got to play the piano that you walk on. I asked dad to buy it for me, it was only 250?
Me: Yes, it was, $250,000 dollars!!!

7. Cheese: We went to the Museum of Natural History to look for people from the movie. We saw Sacajawea.
Mac: Actually Cheese that wasn't Sacajawea, I think mom just pointed at one of the Indians and told us it was her.
Cheese: Well I know I saw Dexter the Monkey.
Mac: And we did get to see Dum, Dum also from the movie, remember that mom? (Yes, I remember jogging through the museum at closing time for what seemed like two miles, looking for the freakin Easter Island's Monument, but I will share more when it is my turn.)

Stay tuned for The Big Cheese's Interview coming up tomorrow...

Newsflash...I was able finally to attach this video of a conversation with Cheese in a somewhat painful but amusing. Amusing to me but the rest of you may find it as boring as watching a baby panda sleep.

We're Back...

2009-12-04T11:27:00.002-07:00

Hi my sweet little blog, my unconventional online personal journal. Man I missed you. You have been on my mind about as much as the Jack Daniels Egg Nog I have been thinking about, waiting to purchase at the local Safeway. So much to tell you about my travels to New York. Only I can't just yet...

Besides the fact that my liver is no longer functioning, my cellulite has cellulite and my intestines are on strike, I am just too busy to dive in just yet. Unfortunately some other priorities must take precedent, this being the season of Christmas cheer and all, dammit. I still need to unearth my Christmas decorations (I am now in major competitive mode with the other houses here on my block, although they don't know it.) I have to research some high altitude baking directions so that I can bake some edible cookies for the troops and I have to get my act together and start working on our yearly reminder that the family is still alive and kicking AKA...Christmas cards.

But I will be back in touch soon my sweet. I think of you often and I have dozens of sheets of scrap paper and voice reminders as proof to share with you soon. See you Monday.

Off to the Big Apple...

2009-11-24T21:46:00.005-07:00

Well the Cheese Factory is off to New York City to celebrate all things Thanksgiving-y. Some tips before we go.

1. Wear baggy pants from Thursday on. Diet can start on Monday, or you can forgo it and just wait until January 2.

2. Grab two pieces of pumpkin pie when it comes to dessert and go heavy on the whipped cream. Even if you don't eat it right away, put it away for safe keeping. If you don't take advantage, when you go back for a second piece 2 hours after your food finally settles, you may be SOL.

3. Try to go outside and watch a football game. Don't play just watch as you will be too full to actually play. If you move your arms and cheer you can burn some calories.

4. Oh, and make sure to point out the "real" Santa to your kids, he will be the one at the end of the Macy's Day Parade. And when he winks at you, you say out loud, oh that's right I forgot I have his cell number.

5. Be Thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

With warm stuffing regards,

TaraB

Monday Madness...It's getting a little crazy up in here.

2009-11-23T08:51:00.013-07:00

Did you see AMAs last night? Lady Gaga what, what the hell was that? I mean who came up with that whole costume scenario? I would have liked to be a fly on that wall:

Lady Gaga: "OK, here is my vision, for the AMA's, I want to dress like a shrimp, but a pretty shrimp. You know like one of those florescent shrimp that sit on the bottom of the ocean and never see the sunlight so they create their own light."

Agent: "Oh yes, that is a great idea Gaga. I so totally see where you are going with this. You can be angry because you live in the sunless depths of the ocean."

Lady Gaga: "Yes, and because I am so angry I will light my piano on fire and put myself in a box where I can inhale all the smoke fumes. And I can crush liquor bottles on my keyboards. Because I am a pissed off shrimp...

And then there is Rihanna, was that really a song or was she just making up words? She too seemed a little angry. Maybe I am too old to "get it." Don't get me wrong I am definitely on Team Rihanna when it comes to her and her smuck of a boyfriend/beater Chris Brown. But I felt like my kids probably feel when they see me smudging lotion all over myself after getting out of the shower. Both perturbed and confused, but it smells so good so they for a while. And WTF was she wearing? Or more importantly where were her boobs?

Oh, and Houston we are clear for lift off. Whitney, you crazy crack ho, you done good. Finally.

Other ramblings...

Technology...Oh, I have tried to get my Twitter on...check me out, let's chat.

Weather...It is snowing AGAIN, didn't mention that in the forecast. Good thing I cancelled all of my plans today.

Amazing fact...The Big Cheese did eleven loads of laundry yesterday, no shit EL-LE- VEN. And for this moment, right now, every piece of clothing, every towel, washcloth, Halloween costume, pillow case and sheet in my house is CLEAN. With the exception of four pairs of underwear and 3 sets of Pajamas (which we are wearing as I type this at noon on a Monday). Oh and I can't help that every time I walk by the laundry hamper and see it sitting there empty, I dance a little jig (well it's actually a mixture of a skip and a cross body lead).

Life: I would like to try Pole dancing...

Travel: Three days until the ~~Griswolds~~ the Cheese Factory takes Manhattan by storm for the Macy's Day Parade. And I SO hope it plays out like I have imagined it in my head for the past 30+ years. Only I have to now add two kids in tow, grandparents, fifteen extended family members, peppermint scnapps to help deal with all the extra family members and only one set of binoculars for seventeen people...let the games begin.

Photos: Do you think it is unrealistic to think that Matt Lauer will have any time for a photo with my family? Because I am counting on that photo to be on my 2009 Christmas Card. It may go something like this...

"Hey Matt, woo hoo, over here. Listen I'll give you twenty bucks (twenty ones rolled tightly) if you just look over here for one minute. Hey Matt, I-AM-TALKING- TO-YOU...you better get your ass over here. Yelling a little louder...Hey, Mr. Clean, I flew over 1600 freakin miles to take my Christmas photo with you. Not with Al but with you, you pompous ass. Now screaming...I will photoshop you in there anyway it is in your best interest to mug for the camera, come over here!"

"OK, Mac go stand there and Cheese go over there. Oh, wait my eyes were closed, lets try that again. Oh, shoot, Mac wasn't looking at the camera, let's try one more time."

Hey Matt where are you going? Don't leave, we have just a few more to shoot.

Writer's Workshop...A Page from My Diary

2009-11-19T16:21:00.007-07:00

What a adorable coincidence...so late last night I stumbled over to Mama's Losing It , as that is about the time of night that I finally take a lap around the "blog block". And I was so glad to see her weekly writing prompt:

4.)Share a diary entry from when you were 13...feel free to make one up!

I say this is a coincidence because my girls just unearthed my 6th grade diary a couple of weeks ago. I was just twelve but who's counting. I still have no idea how they found it because when you move as often as we do, the chances of finding anything outside our standard fifty boxes is like finding a cavity in the molar of Jane, the Tyrannosaurs Rex. So imagine my surprise when they found my diary from 1983, the only diary I think I ever kept, a rare fossil to be sure. I should send them down again to the bowels of the basement to find my pasta maker, circa 1996.

On a side note, I can't tell you how relieved I was that they found that box, because if they would have found any of the boxes from the late eighties/early nineties...Lucy would have some serious splaining to do if you catch my "middrift". "Mommy why did you have a beer in your hand and your were only in high school?" No honey, that's not beer it's Busch Light soda...

For your enjoyment or misery...

January 1,1983 (as you can see it was a Christmas Gift)
Hi, this is Tara your owner, don't worry about me I've had a diary before I know how to use you. I am praying to keep you up to date, let's make this a great 365 days. Love ya!

January 2, 1983
Hi, Today nothing happened except bro caught a turtle. Nana and Pop-Pop left (all they do is watch TV). Well nothing else to say. Love ya!

January 3,1983
Today we started school, I didn't dress out for PE and man did I have a hard time climbing up those bleachers. By the way, I totally love John W, he kinda likes me, I think, I hope. Gotta go. Love ya!

January 4,1983
Today was fun, first John was nice to me and talked to me a lot. He started eyeing me and I pretended that I didn't see him. We danced in P.E. today, I am glad I dressed out because Doug R was also really nice to me. I think I like him too.

January 5, 1983
Guess who I am going with, Doug R. When he asked me Carson was like, "you are making a big mistake" and she keeps saying that. I think she is jealous.

January 6,1983
Today nothing really happened, oh except Jay was going to ask Shelley to dance in P.E. but I bet if I broke up with Doug, Jay would ask me out. Doug won't talk to me anyway, he is my stinkin dance partner and my boyfriend, can you believe it?

January 7,1983
Today I made the biggest mistake of my life. I broke up with Doug (that was so stupid). I only did it because he wouldn't talk to me. I like him more than anyone in the world. So now who am I going to dance with? Oh, and to make it worse Doug asked Sasha out. But she is using him. I am going to tell him and break them up. I love him very much. Love ya!

Jan 8,1983
Nothing happened today except I am PISSED OFF!!!!I want to go with Doug so bad it is pitiful. I am going to break them up. I can't wait.

January 9,1983
I HATE DOUG NOW, he's a jerk.

And that was it... only nine days. The last entry in the diary. We can catch a glimpse here of my issues with follow through. In retrospect, maybe stopping at day nine was a good thing. After a week like that...reading an entire year would be exhausting.

Have you passed by your passion...?

2009-11-18T10:26:00.006-07:00

I hit the stores early this morning. And as I left the Supercenter, coasting about 5mph on the industrial size shopping cart into the parking lot and gaining speed, I notice briefly the red and black checkered shirt of the "Pro-Life Man" sitting at his four foot table on the sidewalk right outside the automatic doors. I have seen him there a couple of times, in his late sixties, wearing a black ball cap and holding a clipboard. Silently he sits solicits signatures from people popping into the store to grab some toothpaste or a turkey for his Pro-Life petition.

I admit, at first I am little perturbed. Seeing him there again has forced me to contemplate things that and I could have gone the entire day without considering. I had just put on my rose colored sunglasses for goodness sake, the sun was out and I was on my way home to enjoy my second cup of coffee and maybe throw in a load of laundry...thinking about the rights of women and of unborn children was not on my agenda this morning. How dare he scratch my lenses.

But as I unloaded my things into the trunk of my minivan, I began to think less about whether or not I agreed with his homemade poster board and it's contents. But more about this man and his passion to his cause. I mean that is what it has to be...passion, right? Because only passion would raise someone out of bed and move them to lay claim on the sidewalk of one of America's largest retailers armed with just a table, a chair, a petition, a pencil and the hope to change just one person's mind.

So rather than complain about the "man of awareness" and the fact that he inconvenienced me this morning with his silent advocacy, I began to wonder...what am I passionate about? I mean, if I had a four foot table and five feet of space outside of the Supercenter, what would my homemade poster board say?

What would yours say?

Out of the mouths of babes...

2009-11-17T08:39:00.004-07:00

Cheese: "Mom does everything have a butt?"
Me: "I think so, (trying to dig down to my inner good parent core) well, I know there is a book called Everyone Poops, we'll just have to go to the library and check out that book to find out. (pat on the back)
Meanwhile the Big Cheese walks by and because he is the cheesiest he says..
"Well, honey everything has a butt hole, that's for sure."
(proud parenting moment--OVER)

While enjoying a beer and on a Tuesday night, (I just felt like it OK?)
Cheese walks over and says, "Mom you have to drink every time someone cries on Biggest Loser."

A Wal-Mart Story
So I wouldn't buy Cheese (my 6 year old) those peanut butter and jelly premade sandwiches, you know the ones in the frozen aisle, they also come in grilled cheese flavor. Last year I did pack her a lunch, but this year she eats at home with me. She even tried pulling the whole, but I don't like crust, whatever kid, I will cut that off and still save $3.59, plus mamma sees a Miley Cyrus shirt she wants to buy.
So as a result of that discussion she spent the rest of the shopping trip sobbing and dangling off the end of the shopping cart screaming at the top of her lungs, "You hate me, why do you hate me?"

While laying in bed on a lazy Sunday morning I say to Cheese: "Hey Cheese, you know what, we almost named you Belle."
Mac then says to Cheese, "Yeah, but you are not pretty enough to be called Belle."

Cheese: "Mom I wish you were like other mommies, and didn't have to work, but you still had money to buy me stuff."

Cheese: "Mom is Africa a city?"
Me: "No honey it is a continent?"
Cheese: "You mean like a vowel."
Me: "No that's a consonant."

Don't eat yellow snow...

2009-11-15T17:23:00.010-07:00

It's snowing...again. And the only reason I am happy about it is because it happens to be Sunday. For most of the day I have managed to stay in my velour sweats (I did venture briefly outside to take this picture of Cheese eating her homemade snowcone) but for the most part, I have admired the white layer of chaos descended from above, from my living room couch. And I am OK with that, in fact I am better than OK with that, barring a neighborhood explosion or a 50% off sale at Nordstrom's I wouldn't drive anywhere today if you made me.

Here is the thing, some people are afraid of spiders, some of heights, others of bees. We're friends right? I will let you in on my secret fear. I am afraid of SNOW. And I DO realize that is probably the most ridiculous thing you have heard today. Unless you have been by Yahoo and saw their latest an ad for GO GIRl, a bright pink pee cone, which allows "active" women to stand to go pee.

Believe me, I understand, for many people the mere thought of snow conjures up comfort and joy and gumdrops and wintery wonderlands made up of candy canes and freakin talking snowmen, snow days, skiing, hot cocoa, kids laughter, Christmas, snow forts and marshmallow dreams...yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. Not for me, I see snow and the morning after ice and if I realize that I have to travel in it I throw up a little in my mouth.

And now living in Colorado and already into our third snowfall this winter, I realize that I am pretty much pooched and I will have to come up with a Plan B, either that or a very large bucket and some stain remover. So thinking aloud, let's see: B is for brave, or boldness or maybe a bike or a bigger car, or a boy to drive me around, or I can just suck it up and put on my big girl waterproof panties and deal with it. No, wait that's it. I will find a driver to drive me around when it snows, I mean how much could that really cost, I have a maid why not a driver? And plus, it has got to be less than what it would cost me to go to a shrink which is another option that I have truly considered. Unfortunately I can't seem to find a psychologist that specializes in inclement weather issues, is there such a thing? Because I don't think my issue with snow is something that a general psychologist could treat. It's not like my fear of snow was brought about by a childhood trauma. I mean I wasn't left outside as a kid and had to survive by sucking on icicles and frozen twigs. I just don't like snow, that's it, cut and dry, or cold and wet however you want to look at it.

Whew, so glad I got that off my chest.

Channeling my inner creativeness...

2009-11-12T08:40:00.007-07:00

I am so bored these days. Don't get me wrong I am not the sitting around eating Dibs Ice Cream Nuggets watching the history channel kind of bored. But more of the, have mundane tasks to do with my eyes clothes kind of bored. Without the odd challenge of folding a bed sheet to keep me entertained, life lately is plain vanilla ice cream, no cone, just a cup, and someone ate off the whimsical curly top.

Let's not mistake bored with nothing to do...because I have plenty TO DO. I would list them here in all their infamous glory, but if you think of YOUR laundry list and the things that YOU need to do then I am sure my list closely resembles yours. But I will see your list and raise it a stack of TIME Magazines that I haven't read. Kept in the bathroom to "kill the time", but obviously I haven't been eating enough fiber because I am still four weeks behind. Ha, get it b-e-h-i-nd. Oh, and there is also the photo collage that I wanted to make from our July 4th trip to Boston. I figure the statue of limitations runs out no later than July 3rd next year so I have some time there. And if I really want to dive deep there is the ever nagging wreath around my neck of Christmas cards to be photographed, ordered and addressed...

So what's a girl to do, assuming she has some "free time", or I mean time spent doing fun exciting and creative things not required, have to do, boring things? Any suggestions? (And don't tell me to go outside and run around the block, I don't wanna).

Crafts are always an option, as I am always looking for something new to create. For instance last week it was the ever trendy "bib necklace." Seventy two hours later I have three homemade bib necklaces (one purchased off of ebay) and absolutely no place to wear them. Well I guess I could wear to school to pick up the girls (since that is the only place I go) but I am not sure if it would be the best choice to accent to my flannel shirt, jeans and boots.

The week before last, I was on a quest to find a faux fur vest. After shopping online for what seemed like hours, I decided instead of buying one (a lofty investment for a trend that I knew would pass and I would be stuck with a $100 faux fox vest worn once), I would make a vest. With no pattern and 2 years of acrylic black fur, I set off for my task. I mean seriously how hard could it be, a rectangle with a hole right? Those of you who sew, you can now pick your jaw off the floor, you are right, it was horrendous. I looked like Barney Rubble, after sleeping in the yard because Betty kicked him out when she found him cheating on her with the waitress at the drive thru. I even tried it on for some dinner guests and had to pick them off the floor they were laughing so hard and after they left I had to clean the pee stains out of the carpet because they wet themselves too. So mission aborted...well almost. The following day I did find a Jordache faux fur jacket at the Salvation Army for pennies, well dollars, and I cut off the sleeves and will soon be rocking out my 80s glam faux fur Jordache vest. Maybe I will wear it with my new bib necklace, but first I need to be invited somewhere. In any case, JLo better watch her back.

I guess I could always revert to the old standby, and drink myself into creativeness. Because everything is more interesting after a couple of glasses of wine. In fact, I have come up with some of my best ideas under a beer soaked buzz. Don't believe me? Go into my basement, and you will find crates of ebay clothes lots, fabric, beads, furs, bottle caps, felts, cigar boxes and of course a horrendous black fur vest. Oh and you will probably find the first draft of a letter asking Cher if I could be the President of her Fan Club. Now that was a good idea...at the time. I think I came up with that one after downing a couple of bottles of wine at my favoriate wine bar...I mean seriously why can't I?

My Little Monsters...

2009-11-11T11:42:00.019-07:00

So I am playing along...with SevEn cLoWn CirCuS,and her Wordful Wednesday. The idea is to post a photo and whatever comes to mind.
So here it goes:

Little Monsters

I have these two little monsters, actually vampires, you see.
They make me quite crazy, as they slowly suck the life out of me.
During the day when they're gone, ahhh, all is quiet and quite peaceful.
But wait there is no laughing, no hugs, is my day just not as cheerful?
Holy cow, I miss those silly little creatures, tiny hands and big hearts.
And their riduculous questions, like "hey mom, do all people fart?"
I do need them, my Monsters, I mean my blood suckers, it is the truth.
Because I would trade all the quiet in the world for one more day of their youth.

What you won't likely see or hear on a Hasbro Family Game Night Commercial...

2009-11-07T21:02:00.013-07:00

We have once again started family game night here at the Cheese Factory. Several attempts have been made in the past, but unfortunately like everything we do, we start off with a bang and end with a smoldering, and sometimes annoying, cloud of dust. In all reality, life takes over and 45 days into our "quest" to spend time together, we start to trip over lost game pieces embedded into the carpet left over like dinosaur fossils of game nights past.

As an example, last year after we bought our Wii, Friday nights became our game night. Moving helped as our social life had come to a screeching halt, so we instead spent our evenings virtual bowling or playing Cadoo and eating DIY homemade pizzas and steamed artichokes. You are thinking to yourself, "wow, that's odd, why would she mention artichokes?" "Or maybe even, your kids eat artichokes?" Well, I mention artichokes because they have now become our game night mascot, kids love them and every time we mention playing a game, Cheese will say "can we get an artichoke?" And yes, my kids will eat just about anything. This has great bragging rights only until we take them out to dinner and they get all high and mighty over the processed chicken nuggets, again. It's like that minced fish commercial. They are like, "mom, these probably aren't even made of real chicken, I would like a steak, can I get a filet like you? And I am all like, "well you too could afford a filet if you didn't squander your birthday money on a light up yo-yo and those two tubes of cherry shimmer chapstick you had to have from the Wal-Mart impulse lane. You know just because you see me spend money frivolously doesn't mean that you have to also. Now where did I put my travel size antibacterial lotion and my three pack of Slim Jim's?"

OK so I don't make my kids buy their own dinners. I do keep a running IOU and I figure by the time they get out of college and start a family that money owed will buy me a nice apartment above their garage, a rainbow of velour sweat outfits and a convertible BMW.

So back to game night, November 7,2009. Game of they night: Monopoly. Yes, I realize that Cheese is only six and Mac is just nine years old. But I was backed into a corner. I would have SO grabbed PAY DAY, but it wasn't an option. The truth of the matter is I didn't feel like gouging my eyes out with mini fishing rods, which I would have done if forced to play Fishin' Around with the kids, even though it was age appropriate. I would have gone with the creepy no face dude Pictionary game, but it was $31.97 and therefore a little more than I wanted to spend. Well actually a lot more than I wanted to spend because I still had to buy dinner and a couple of artichokes (see it all comes around). It was a mutual agreement in the end, with a little nudge in the right direction. Well more or less bribery, one with ice cream and the other with a drawing pad. I also picked up a lint brush and some 8 Hour Energy minis.

Some highlights:

Cheese landed herself in jail so Mac sold her her Get Out of Jail Free card for $686.00, or "one of each color of money". Cheese didn't care, she just wanted out and we didn't have the heart to tell her she made a horrible deal.

Mac on the other hand, kept counting her money over and over, rubbing it through her fingers. She was also the banker so I am not sure how many $100s slipped from the bank to her neatly manicured piles.

Cheese, kept stacking the dice, she really wanted to roll a six. Not sure why, so it will have to go into my mental book of strange things kids do for no particular reason.

She also kept saying "wow so many avenues, everything is an avenue."

Speaking of avenues instead of Virgina Avenue, The Big Cheese kept calling it Vagina Avenue, while chuckling quietly to himself.

Family fun time at it's best!

Some Things I Know for Sure...

2009-11-04T19:27:00.009-07:00

I know that...

I will spent every morning over the next 10 years brushing someone else' hair and someone will cry. And I know I will say out loud each morning, "this would not hurt near as much if you took the time to brush your OWN HAIR".

I will recommend someone going to dreads at least 50 times within those next 10 years, against my better judgement.

I will have to flush someone else's pee at least once each day for the rest of my life.

I will be scraping dried cereal out of the bottom of the sink until my children leave for college.

I will always look in the mirror first thing in the morning, suck in my gut and smile. And then I will let it go and roll my eyes.

I will always dream in color.

I will never learn how to fold bottom sheets correctly.

I will always leave out or substitute one ingredient when following a recipe.

I will never go to bed without washing my face first.

I will always stop in the shoe section when walking through a department store, any department store.

I will always sing out loud in the car and the shower.

And finally, I know that while I may not be really great at any one thing. I am marginal at a lot of things.

100% Irony Free

2009-11-03T08:57:00.005-07:00

Have you ever used StumbleUpon.com?

If you like to spend your free time on the computer.. waait free time, what is that exactly? Oh yes I remember, the last time I actually had "free time" I was in college. In between the hours of 10am and 10pm, that was free time. It was the time that I should have been attending class or studying in the library. Instead I spent my days nursing hangovers with a pen and a pad trying to put together the missing pieces of the night before. Searching for answers to more important questions like how did my pants legs get covered in mud? Where did my bra go? Where did my car go? And whose puke is this in my hair? Ahhh, good times, college...

OK so where was I...free time.

Well if you have ANY and you like to spend it AWAY from the computer doing something more constructive, than walk away from the light and do not Stumble over to StumbleUpon dot com. However, if you are like me and have transformed your once magazine addiction to now an internet addiction than come on in, the light is warm, and don't worry, I have sat on the scary little lady from Poltergeist, she won't bother you any more.

It was through StumbleUpon that I stumbled on a great site-- a site listing hundreds of BumperStickers. I know, how cool is that? I am so tempted to go out any buy some printable car magnets, so I can share these great quotes with the WORLD. But I wont' because I am still trying to make friends and if I drive around with a sticker that says "Kids in the backseat cause accidents.... accidents in the backseat cause kids." It may not be sending the right message.

It was here on this website that an unfortunate accident happened and I singed all of my nasal hairs when coffee unexpectidly gushed through my nose like a mating whale's blow hole, because this is some funny stuff. So I thought that I would share my happy yet uncomfortable moment with you.

OK, you want to know the real truth? Truth is, I just committed to NaNoWriMo 2009, which is a challenge to write a novel in a month of over 50,000 words...and after writing into the wee hours of the night last night, my creativity is pretty much sapped. So today we can all enjoy someone else's cleverness. Check these out...

A bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory.

Just plead the Fifth -- or drink it -- either way.

All stressed out and nobody to choke!

Ass, gas or grass, nobody rides for free.

Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder...

BOMB SQUAD: If you see me running you better catch up!

Children are like farts: your own are just about tolerable but everyone else's are horrendous.

Could You Drive Any Better If I Shoved That Cell Phone Up Your Ass?

It's lonely at the top, but you eat better.

And my favorite..

I break for........................OH SHIT NO BRAKES

Only in America...

2009-11-01T18:32:00.014-07:00

You can tell a lot about a child if you watch them go through their Halloween candy. Some are impulsive and they just dump it on the floor and start pumping it right into their mouths. Some are more methodological and tend to group by texture; chocolate here, chocolate with nuts there, Smarties over there, etc. Me, well I was just greedy, I would first separate into like piles and count them incase anyone thought of sneaking a piece. Later I would create separate "trading" piles for those candies that I just didn't care for...Mounds and Almond Joy come to mind. I would then dupe my little brother into making unfair trades. "Hey bro" I'll trade you these TWO Bit O'Honey's for your stale full size Snicker bar." And like a hobo to a hot dog he would take the deal. Fortunately, he was more of a quantity than quality kind of kid.

So last night after the dust had settled and the kids pumped and dumped, traded and discarded, and of course, left all of their wrappers in the middle of the living room, I was making my last pass through. OK I admit, I was scouring the heap for any remaining Twix bars that I may have previously overlooked. Heading into the corner of room and I what do I see but bright orange bag of "Halloween Pretzels" staring up at me. Poor things were tossed aside like a 7th grade boyfriend. It was obvious they did not stand a chance against the likes of the sour War Heads, Milky Ways or even the less preferred Tootsie Rolls. So I bent down to pick them up and OUCH! something cut my finger. Don't panic it wasn't a razor blade, although that would be a great story. If that happened I would so immediately go out and buy a monocle, a deerhat and a small flashlight and hunt the neighborhood for the sicko. Instead imagine my disappointment when I realized that I had been sliced by a staple. A stinkin staple attached to this card:

You-have-got-to-be-kidding-me...

Disclaimer: First let me say, bankruptcy is nothing to make light of, and I completely emphasize with anyone in such a horrible situation.

That being said, even without a degree in sales and marketing, I would have been a little more inventive. I mean staple your card to a Pay Day or a 100 Grand Bar, at least you would earn a little slice of respect for making a joke. Sure your way worked you are a tricky one you little bankruptcy guru, I did find your card. But what exactly did you think would go down from here? "Hey look honey, I have been looking for someone to handle our bankruptcy, I am so glad we sent the kids out to trick or treat tonight, we can look no further. Because anyone that is crafty enough to staple their business card to a bag of pretzels and hand out to small children on Halloween, that is DEFINITELY the douche bag that I am going to trust to take care of my outstanding debt." "Oh and look, if we refer someone we can get a $10 gift card." I mean, seriously???

And I know exactly who I can refer to our Bankruptcy neighbors...the lazy ass that drove through the neighborhood at 3mph on Halloween night "alongside" her three small kids. She was "parenting" from the heated leather front seat of her giant SUV. I mean, obviously both her legs must have been broken or otherwise she would be WALKING WITH HER CHILDREN like the rest of us.

Kids, this happens only in America...

Girl Friday...

2009-10-30T15:37:00.004-07:00

Since it is Friday I thought I would post another fun conversation among my Fab Five, my gang of girlfriends that always keep me laughing...
Why do I need to make stuff up when real life can be so entertaining.

Dear Drunks:
So at training the other night the ADAPT guy (alcohol dependent dude) came to let us know about "warning signs"...one of them is if the person only wants to go out to eat at places that serve alcohol. :) It made me giggle and think of my girls...why would you ever choose to go out to eat at a place that DOESN'T serve alcohol? I would even push for Mc Donalds to obtain a liquor license if I could!!!
Thinking of you all! Signed, I'll take a Beer with my Big Mac

Dear I'll take a Beer with my Big Mac:
Wow! Maybe I should start worrying about myself! I DO only eat at restaurants that serve alcohol! I actively start thinking on Monday what/where I'm going to drink that weekend. On occasion I've only gotten drinks and... gASP, no food! Shit! I freaking need an intervention. Quick, everyone- come rescue me at Outback! I'll be at the bar with 2 for 1 Bloody Marys!!!! Signed, Make Mine Spicy

Dear Make Mine Spicy: Apparently my intervention was moving to PA - the weird liquor laws here make most every restaurant BYOB. So, Outback sounds great! Be there in about 20 hours! Signed, Drinking Diet Coke

Dear Drinking Diet Coke: OK so what if you think about drinking alcohol all the time even if you do not partake but once or twice a week? Does that make me a aspirant alcoholic? Crap, I can't even get that right. And if I was in PA I would be carrying around my Ed Hardy Flask (don't judge my mom bought it for me- come to think of it, is it bad when your mom buys you a flask?)

And, Make Mine Spicy- Two for one bloody mary's, hells yes, save me a spot, I will be right over. I will hook up my quad four runner and start heading that way, 20hours should be right. You think I am kidding but I am this close to convincing the Big Cheese to buy one so I can take the kids to school and ride it to the mailbox. Signed: Snowed In and Haven't Showered for Days, but looking forward to a Beer and a Big Mac

The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits. ~ Albert Einstein

2009-10-29T14:27:00.002-07:00

So here is the situation…have you heard of the great Einstein Baby Scam? It seems Disney has been backed into a clever corner, and as a result is offering a refund to families that bought their Baby Einstein videos. The claim from the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood was, "deceptive advertising". It seems placing our little cathedrals in front of the tube watching those endless hours of Baby Einstein Videos did not create the mastermind babies Baby Einstein assured they would.

WHAT?

C-O-M-E O-N… Did you really think that orange dragon hand puppet that babysat your kids, actually had the ability to teach them quadratic equations while you took thirty minutes to do laundry? Or did you seriously think that the green frog marionette was whispering the law of physics in your child's ear while you locked yourself in your room shoving down spoonfuls of mac-n-cheese, while crying because it was just one of those days? Sure, let’s stick it to Disney for our own parental shortcomings, because we really thought a video that showed a stuffed animal teddy bear playing Mozart on his violin would encourage my 2 year old walk right up to the piano and start playing Beethoven’s fifth… by ear.

So no, I am not going to request a refund from Disney. Admittedly, I have been drinking the $8.00 kool-aid and I am certain that they Disney is wholly responsible for adding a little magic into our lives, not to mention a giant dent in my wallet. But, hey, I’m OK with that.

Now, there are some companies that I would like write to and request a refund from, as their products simply did not deliver what they "promised" they would.

For instance, I would like a refund from every workout video I purchased between the years of 1996 and 2006. I would like my money back from The Secret, because I never actually learned what the secret was. I would like a refund from Carleton Sheets, that bastard and his Real Estate Foreclosures, whatever. Oh, and Space Bags Inc., because no matter how hard I sucked, there was no way those storage bags were going to get as flat as they showed on the infomercial.

Have you heard of Deja Fu?

2009-10-27T22:03:00.004-07:00

I know we have all heard of Deja Vu, but I am making up a new word tonight. Deja Fu...because that is the way I roll and I just make up words whenever I want. For instance, I made up sidewards. I mean if there is a frontwards and backwards, why not a sidewards? It's not backways or frontways, right?

Any way, new word Deja Fu, and it means to see your future (which I did tonight). Oh, and when you tell your friends about Deja Fu, don't forget to put an umlaut, over the "u"...(that is two little dots for all you lay folk). I would but I can't figure out how to here.

OK, back to the future. The short of it is, a storm is rolling in tonight and I realized at 9:45pm that we have run out of cat food. There is a slight chance that I may be stuck in the house for days and the babies simply can't live on tuna in vegetable oil, I mean they could but I wouldn't do that to them...or to me since I am the only one that cleans the cat sh**. So I grab my shabby, fake fur brown coat and head out to the grocery store. On the way I realize that I have mascara smeared all over my face from watching a heart wrenching episode of the Biggest Loser and no practical way to take it off.

Now in the store, I stop real quick to check out the cover of the newest Star Magazine on my way to the prepared soup in the deli section. I glance up into the ceiling mirror and I there it is, a Deja Fu, I see straight into my future. I see me plus 40 years, shuffling through the grocery store at 9:45pm at night, mascara streamed down my cheeks, wearing a old nasty faux fur coat and carrying a 10 lb. bag of Cat Food under my arm. I am complaining about the cost of powder creamer to myself as I stumble over to the prepared soup in the deli aisle after one too many screwdrivers at Bingo earlier that night.

We Are Women Hear Us Roar...

2009-10-26T08:50:00.007-07:00

Have you heard this song? It is the newest commercial for Dove and Wal-Mart. I am totally digging their beauty campaign.

Do your eyes sit wide
Does your nose turn to the side
Do your elbows kind of crinkle
Do your knees sort of wrinkle
Does your chest tend to freckle
Do you have a crooked smile

Do your eyes sit wide

Do your ears sort of wiggle
Does your hair make you giggle
Does your neck grow long
Do your hips sing a song

Do your ears hang low
---------------------------------
It's Monday after all, so I thought I would dive right in and add a couple of verses...

Did you shower today
Or did you skip like yesterday
Cause you got no place to go
Because you are trapped there in the snow
Did you wear your sweats again
Because you cannot find a friend

Does your face hang low?

Did you spend your grocery cash on shoes
Because you woke up with the blues
And now you’re eating rice and beans
Wearing your designer jeans
Did you order stuff online
Because it shipped for just a buck ninety-nine

Does your butt hang low?

Is your brown hair turning gray
In some places you can’t say
And your knees start to crack
When you are picking up the slack
Do you sound just like your mother
When you scold your naughty daughter

Do your boobs hang low?

If you had to answer yes
Regarding your face, butt or breast
At least you are alive
and you can smile at my rhyme
Though some days may be gray
Today can be the day
that we roar into the sky.

Let your head hang high!!!

Either you're in or you're out...

2009-10-20T08:35:00.018-07:00

OK so late last night I found myself online searching Biz Rate for the least expensive pair of Mammoth Crocs I could find. Yes, I realize that sentence is probably more revealing than I want it to be. From the most obvious, to why would I buy a pair of Crocs, I don't garden. And ending with the fact that I am shopping on Biz Rate to find the least expensive pair available. Seriously, like I can't shell out the $39.99 on a pair of shoes. For heaven's sake, I can just look at a Target and drop a Ben Franklin. Have you ever watched Project Runway? Tim Gunn the fashion guru once said that he thinks that Crocs were the biggest fashion mistake of the 20th Century. So now how could I, a fashionita in my own mind go against the Gunn?

Have I just given up, finally rolling over and succumbing to comfort over style? YOU BET. Hey- don't judge unless you have ever worn a pair. The sheep that were shed for these shoes must have been from Abel’s own flock as they are undoubtedly, the most comfortable pair of slipper/shoes I have ever slipped on my cracked unpedicured heels. I tell you what, those "practical" utility pant wearing moms in the school pick up line really knew what the hell they were doing floating around in their bright orange, red and florescent green mother ships. I have climbed aboard, my friends... and today I vow to singled handily bring back the Croc. Long live Crocs-- crocs vivants!!!

Of course, looking back to less than a year ago I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of Crocs. They were just one of the many fashion “trends” that I had the good taste to stay away from. Crocs, women’s suspenders and those horrid geometric and tribal shirts that were all vying for a great 80s comeback. No, no and no. But I gotta say, when you roll out out bed and the most important place you have to go that day is Wal Mart, crocs are the bomb.

Now since I have revealed this ugly truth to you, I thought maybe I should continue to dig deep and give you some background as to where it all started and how I have progressed to be the fashion icon I am now...again in my own head.

Remember Polo shirts? It was fifth grade, I had accumulated 13 polo shirts, which was a pretty big deal if you were to use this information as bragging rights against all the other children who didn’t have them. What I never told anyone was that only one was an authentic. The other twelve "polos" were bootleg with the tags ripped in half, purchased in a seedy hotel room. I have no idea how my mother found this place, but we spent an entire Saturday wading knee deep in oxfords to find those perfect shirts that weren’t ripped or stained. I can blame this day for my transformation from amateur shopper to professional hunter. I may as well have had my first taste of deer blood that Saturday afternoon. There I was covered from head to toe with cotton fibers and cigarette smoke from the Italian that had bootlegged the truck load of factory seconds from Jersey. Ralph Lauren permeated through the air, there was no going back, that day I became a true bargain hunter.

Or how about the Flash Dance trend, complete with big 80s big hair. Can I get a hollar for the color yellow!! OMG, what the hell was I thinking? Man, I remember "stumbling" upon the bag that held this outfit it in back of my mom's closet the month before Christmas, I could not wait to open and wear it. And I had the perfect occassion this outfit, it would be perfect for my entry to the Seventeen Model Search photo contest. Don't tell me you didn't send in a photo, hoping to be discovered? Now I am just glad I have this set of photos and not my girlfriend.

From Flashdance to Punk. Well, somehow I skipped over the whole punk/Madonna thing. I think I extended the shoulder pad phenom which came right after the Flashdance era a little longer than necessary. This was due to the fact that I had a coveted pair of removable shoulder pads. So basically I could put them, ANYWHERE I WANTED. Come on, I know you are digging the leggings and the yellow hightops.

However, today I think I would like a do over. I would scrap the shoulder pads and the leggings if I could enjoy being a punk for a day or two, maybe a week. I would walk around all pissed off, rocking out some red streaks in my hair and a lace fingerless glove on my right hand. Oh, and some motorcycle boots would be totally bad ass. And I would also like to walk into a Hallmark Store straight over to where the little crystal figurines are placed ever so delicately...and go Godzilla on them. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it either. I mean Seriously, Why Can't We?

Just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand.

2009-10-15T09:45:00.008-07:00

Fifteen year old animated boys, you better start saving your cartoon cash because your wildest dreams have come true. Your favorite MILF, Marge Simpson, has hit the pages of Playboy. Time to find out if the blue drapes really match the carpet.

Yes, Playboy I realize that your circulation has slipped from 3.15 to 2.6 million in recent years...but I am not sure what market you are shooting for with your newest cover model. Don't you realize that Springfield cash is like .00003 pennies to the dollar? I mean what's next a lesbian pictorial of Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintsone. Rocks as payment will earn you even less.

Poor Bart, I guess he is finally getting what he deserves for all of his astatine pranks and abhorrent behavior. What goes around comes around my man. Not only does he have to face Milhouse and Ralph at school but Dolph has also seen the spread by now (get it) and wants in on the action. Later when Bart gets sent to Principal Skinners office for beating the hell out of Dolph for making rude comments about his mamma, he is ashamed to look up to see his mom's centerfold pinned up on Skinner's wall with kissy marks all over it.

There is one winner here, you know who lovin this publicity... Apu. The Kwik-E-Mart is raking in the dough left over right as he has his entire magazine display filled with Marge's covers, right next to the Duff's beer and electronic cooked hot dogs.

Uh oh, here comes Homer, "DOH"!

...dedicated to Sher

Bless his heart...

2009-10-13T08:15:00.006-07:00

Nothing like waking up at 7am and having a feeling that you were visited by the paranormal last night. Not Casper the friendly ghost, but the other one, his evil pointed head brother, the one that likes to turn on lights and deficate on a whim.

So let me start at the beginning, which was yesterday. You see we have offered to host our squadron/ welcome open house/ meet your crazy spouses party this Saturday night. And because a simple party won't do, I have give this soiree a theme, Southern Haunted Manor, spooky hun? So yesterday the whole family spent the day out and about buying crazy random decorations for my "Haunted Manor". Stuff that we will never use again, from the dozen black ravens to the blood soaked candles. Vampire Martha, eat your heart out.

I gave the Big Cheese a task, I asked him to paint some drop cloths with some whimsical, yet spooky ghosts that we will later tape to the windows. My hubby is chuck full of talent, and quite a perfectionist, which is why he spent a good hour and a half on just one covering (with 5 more to go).

So when he is finished with part one of his task he gently carries the drop cloth and carefully lays it upstairs on the bed in the spare room so that no one touches it, especially the cats. He closes the door.

Fast forward to this morning, on his way out to work he checks on his "masterpiece" and finds it crumpled in a 10 inch ball on the spare bed, the bathroom light is turned on and the room smells like poop. He comes in to report this strange phenomenon, bewildered, and I too admit that for a brief minute, in my somnolent, coffee deprived state, I think holy geez, we have been visited by the ghosts of Halloween pasts and they are pissed off.

When we investigate further, we look under the crumpled up ghost masterpiece, and find it is covering a large pile of cat shit and a crumpled throw blanket is laying over a small lake of cat pee.

It seems the Big Cheese locked our cat in the SPARE ROOM overnight and he had his own frightening Party. Seriously...

Lazy Saturday...

2009-10-10T17:45:00.003-07:00

So I spent my Saturday snowed in. OK I am flat out lying, it didn't snow, but there is a layer of frost outside that is in its own right very scary. So in lieu of getting dressed and doing anything productive, believe me, I had great intentions: laundry, reading my book club book, watching a great movie. Instead I spent my entire day jacking around on the computer...digital scrapbooking. You likey?

Oh man, talk about your instant gratification. Whew, I haven't had this much fun shopping online since Body Candy Jewelry had two for one belly rings.

So that is the reason for the new look.

Come As You Are...

2009-10-08T20:11:00.009-07:00

Kurt Cobain once said "I sing and play the guitar and I am a walking, talking bacterial infection."

Whether you find him an 80s Renaissance man or the incensed product of a broken mobile home, or just plain dirty, he was revered for his words. Or at least that is what the small town of Aberdeen, Washington (Cobain's hometown) believes. And they have dedicated a park to Nirvana's front man to prove it.

Up to this point, while reading this article, I was totally on board. I mean why shouldn't Kurt Cobain have a grassy knoll, he practically pioneered the grunge movement. A movement that I, personally, never really bought into, I was far to self absorbed to stop caring about my personal appearance. I wasn't angst-ridden or really serious about anything in the 80s or 90s, unless it was nickel beer night at the local wing joint or a sale on aqua net.

But here is where the line gets a little blurred and the article sparked a tiny nerve. At the entrance of this park (for kids) there lies a plaque. And on this plaque right above Kurt's granite carved mug is the quote,

"...Drugs are bad for you. They will FUCK you up."

Whoa, hey wait just a minute for fuck's sake. I am all for a message, especially one that implies that drugs are bad for you. But the delivery here is all wrong. Kids don't read the park signs anyway, I mean they are always climbing "up" the slide, when safety signs clearly state not to. Instead, the Aberdeen Parks and Rec Department, could have saved their cash and instead pay a hobo in "hotdogs" to sit at the edge of the park and scream meaningful life lessons through a bullhorn. Off the top of my head, "hey little asshole, don't be a bully", or "drinking alcohol is for shitheads." I mean if we are going to get those kids attention while waiting in line for the swings, let's not carve it in granite. I say we take it one step further and get the mother of all parks involved. I can see it now...

"Welcome to Disney World, where your dreams come true. But only if you stay in school, don't be Fucking stupid."

Catching Butterflies...a writer's workshop

2009-10-08T19:22:00.008-07:00

Catching Butterflies

Can I keep you cupped in my hands for just a moment longer?
Before I wipe all of the dust off your gentle wings
They say you need to be free, spread your wings and wander
But I am just five and I don't listen to these things... CRUSH

Writer's Workshop

Assignment: Find your one very favorite picture of Summer and write a poem about it.

I used to rule the world...

2009-10-05T20:14:00.016-07:00

I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own.
~ ColdPlay

I started this post with the idea that I have become a shadow of my former self "sweeping the streets I used to own." If in my twenties I was the bomb than my late thirties I would be compared more to a sparkler at the very end of it's life. A couple of random sparks and then turning to a scorching hot orange light.

So I started to think about all the "hip" (stupid) things I used to do in my youth mainly as a result of lack of confidence with my body and my mind. And I thought, ya know what, I am 10 times cooler now then I was then (or at least that is what I keep telling myself). It's not that my self-doubting inner voice has stopped whispering in my ear, it's just that I don't listen any longer to what that jerk off has to say.

So as I round third base and slide into 40 I am NOT a shadow of my former self but I am rocking a grand slam version of my HOTTER vibrant orange, don't give a shit, self. So I started a list of all the things I do now that make me so cool:

For instance, unlike my twenties, I can totally hold my liquor. Sure I may break a couple of glasses (or beer bottles) in a night because I talk with my hands (thanks mom)but that just comes with the territory. And I also will attract the only homeless guy in the bar with my antics, but I am having a good time being me. Loud, sloppy, slurry, beer soaked...ME. And if that homeless guy asks me to dance then I just hope the DJ plays something from Depeche Mode or a song that encourages individual dancing.

Speaking of dancing, I now dance when EVERYONE is watching and I do it ALL OF THE TIME. And when the Hannah Montana or iCarly theme song comes on the TV at home, I know for a fact that all of Mac's friends think I am major cool because not only do I know ALL of the words but I dance while singing them outloud. Because nothing is cooler than dancing in the kitchen with an oven mitt on one hand, breaking it down like MJ. I may even demonstrate my Thriller "recital" routine.

I drive a mini-van... hells yes, much, much cooler than the red Camaro I had in my twenties. We named it "Hip Hop you don't Stop Rocking" because it was so hot. But I'll tell you what my cherry red Camaro didn't have. Automatic doors, bitches.

And while I am driving around my way hot blue mini-van, I have the radio turned up loud, rocking out some NPR. Can I give a shout out to All Things Considered...?

My music tastes are mcuh better. I keep it real and lean more towards the 80s and the 90s. But some Barbara Streisand can always pick me up. Oh and the Grease Soundtrack of course.

I order cheeseburgers and eat them without abandonment. And the only use I have for Ranch dressing is for my fries, no salads for this girl. As a result in the summer I don a tankini bathing suit with a matching skirt, top it off with a big ass straw hat with giant glasses to match. Yes, you're right I make all those young girls jealous.

At night for bed, I wear my Police t-shirt the one I bought in 07 at a Police concert. I cut out the collar so it hangs off one shoulder. So freakin awesome. Roxxannnee- you don't have to put on that the red light.

I pluck my eyebrows while waiting in the car pool line (can't beat the natural sunlight), I am a multi tasker, what can I say?

And lastly, I have MC Hammer as ring tone on my phone. And I bet "you can touch that."

Uncomfortable Silent Pauses

2009-10-03T21:14:00.018-07:00

Those of you who watch Seinfeld will completely understand. But do you remember the episode when every time Kramer would hear Leeza Gibbons' voice on Entertainment Tonight and he would go into convulsions, his whole body would spasm and he would eventually black out? Well that is what happens to me when I find myself 3 seconds into an awkward group silence.

I go crazy bananas, I can feel my eye twitching, my mouth gets drys and barely six seconds will pass before I find myself blurting out something ridiculous like "you know I am wearing band aids on my nipples because I couldn't find a clean bra to wear." You see, I would rather say something completely self depreciating than stand there sliding deeper and deeper into an abyss like silence.

And tonight at a dinner party I had to trudge my way through about a dozen of these awkward, silent pauses. I mean seriously, out of eight educated, employed, relatively bright adults, you would think that one person could find something interesting to say. For God sakes, A-N-Y-THING, a grunt, a burp or even some gas would have at least cut the silence, if only for a moment.

So as you can imagine I found myself teetering on the edge of insanity and full disclosure. With every silent pause I came closer and closer to accidentally blurting out my truths...starting with the fact that sometimes I pee in the shower when I am really tired in the morning (OK that only happened once...maybe twice) and ending with the fact that I haven't washed my hair in 6 days. Could someone please save me from going down that dirty yellow brick road of no return? Argh...

Fortunately it didn't get that bad, I did leave with my dignity and my bra intact. But I wanted to gouge my eyes out with my oven cooked, well done, crispy charred steak. And that's all I have to say about that.

What's all the Brew Ha Ha About?

2009-09-30T08:03:00.014-07:00

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?

I would like to change my name...

2009-09-28T12:57:00.005-07:00

Cheese comes in my office today...mom 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.

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

2009-09-25T08:57:00.008-07:00

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?

If I... and other conversations

2009-09-23T10:16:00.005-07:00

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.

Girlfriends...

2009-09-21T13:51:00.010-07:00

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.

Doing my part...

2009-09-16T09:23:00.010-07:00

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?

Special Agent 002 Reporting for Duty...

2009-09-11T09:26:00.009-07:00

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

An Award, for Moi???

2009-09-09T09:14:00.014-07:00

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.

Learning cursive...

2009-09-08T09:03:00.011-07:00

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...