Hairy situation

My Beebs is the unique one in our family. We knew it since the second we saw her all gooey and pink, fresh from the birth canal. Me, my husband and the three older kids have dark brown (almost black)hair and brown eyes. Beebs had (very little) light brown hair and bright blue eyes since the day she was born. I can't count how many times I've heard the "mailman" scenario- ha ha- not funny or original anymore, folks!

The others were born ape-like hairy... I totally believe the old wive's tale that heartburn during pregnancy means your baby will have hair- Beebs is the only one that I didn't have heartburn with and she hardly had any hair.

Even though follicularly challenged, last year around this time, we started noticing enough length that curls were forming at the nape of her neck. Yeah, no more taping bows to her head to show that she was a girl on outings.

The forth of July came and went. We live in an area where fireworks are legal. YUK! Personally, I've always hated them. The big striped tents in every parking lot looks trashy. I am always finding remnants of fireworks in our lawn. There are constant crash and booms at all hours and I'm a startely type. I jump and get easily startled and shaken by loud noises- a screw's loose, I know. I prefer watch them on TV with the sound muted.

I'm not a fan of the kind of people that like to set off fireworks, either. Country bumpkins, they like the boom of guns, they blew up stuff as children- 'round these parts, we call them "Hoosier's"- it's not in a good context like the proud people from Indiana. It's meant in a critical way describing non-filtered Marlboro smoking, Busch beer drinking, poor white trash kind of way.

Don't get me wrong, I have 12 Aunts and Uncles on my dad's side that fall into this category. But, as with anything, you've got the decent hard-working people and the kind that have no respect for themselves or others. Unfortunately, we have a few neighbors that are the latter.

We have many neighbors that set off fireworks on a consistent basis this time of year. At first it was just an annoyance. Then last year, towards the middle of July, we started noticing Beeb's sweet curls were gone and her hair was much thinner and so short it was spikey. We even pulled out old pictures to compare. It was an obvious change. We called the doctor and he suggested we go to a dermatologist. The dermatologist sent us to a pediatric specialist in hair loss (mostly dealing with Alopecia- the inability to produce ANY hair). Her symptoms and age did not point to Alopecia, but there were many nights spent worrying about how difficult that would be for a child to grow up without ANY hair.

For about two months, I got these looks at stores, I know them, I give them. It's the aaaawwww, I hope your sweet baby gets well because clearly she's going through chemo look. It's accompanied by a smile and a wink to the child. It's a well- meaning one, but I was sad that the assumption was she was sick, it was, after all, superficial, she was seemingly completely healthy otherwise!

After extensive testing, they diagnosed Telogen Effluveum. Hair loss due to stress- naturally falling out- not pulling. The Dr. said that it is usually seen in children that lose a parent or have to deal with a similar trauma.

Throughout our visits, we racked our brains trying to figure out what had been so stressful in a 2 year old's life that could have caused this? Then it dawned on us, the boom of a firework sent her into a tizzy. Screaming at the top of her lungs, shaking, cold sweats, after about a week of it, she wouldn't even play outside anymore. It lasted for about 3 weeks and the time frames all matched up. We asked the dr., somewhat reluctantly, if that could be the cause. She agreed that that was probably the source and that the hair would grow back in its own time.

So, here we are a year later and a year older. The hair on her head is very similar to the way it was before the loss last year, full, kind of poofy, and curls. She was just outside playing when the first firework (that she has noticed) went off right above our yard! Unfortunately, the year did not seem to mature her beyond the fear of the crashing boom. The same reaction: sweat, screaming, and shaking. I ran out to scoop her up and bring her in. I do hope we don't experience the same outcome.

We feel very blessed that all we have had to deal with was a superficial issue. We realize how lucky we are to be blessed with four healthy kids. However, no one wants there kids to be in pain, emotional or physical. I don't like the fear that the fireworks stir up in her, I wish I could take that away- clearly she takes it pretty hard!

I would like to stir up some pain and shove a firework up one of my neighbor's ass, in particular, when I explained the situation to him and asked if he would be sympathetic and not shoot them off at certain times- he was, well, not receptive. There have been words exchanged and it's evident he's not a fan of me either (I believe he called me a "rich snobby bitch"- see how clueless he is!!!) I'm SO NOT rich!

The Slutty Van

The garage was packed to the gills with garage sale stuff. This would be the first night that we had to park the sexy van NOT in the garage. My husband and I decided we should be safe enough to park the car in the driveway overnight. We also have had some burns in our time with stolen cars- long story- go read my archives if you're so inclined. That always sits in the back of our minds although we are in a safer community now and this car is supposed to have a micro chip that disables the car against hot wiring.

Mind you, it is a brand new car and our driveway looks like a ski slope (and not the bunny slope), but we figured, bite the bullet and use the emergency brake and we should be good. The forecast had showers in it, but rain won't hurt the car, right?

Then my husband calls from work, just as I'm dozing off for a good night's sleep before the big sale, and "claims" he heard hail was in the forecast and headed in our direction. Now, normal people would realize that the actual chance of truly damaging hail was probably minimal, but my husband is far from normal. Do you really want me to move all of the stuff around and try to fit the car in? I asked in a lazy, whining sigh.

So I go out and shifted tables around and stacked boxes and figured I could fit the car in a sort of caddywompas way. I was very very careful, after all, this car has been one of the biggest aphrodesiacs for me in years! I inched in, I stopped, got out and looked how much room and repeated that process about 10 times- still not able to close the garage door! I placed blankets on the corners of some of the tables JUST IN CASE! When I got out on that tenth time, the front end was wedged into the one of the metal table corners- that I didn't cover with a blanket!

Oh yah! It was scratched. One week is all we lasted before we popped the cherry on the undinged exterior of the sexy van. And I do not take responsibility for it at all. When he came home, I told him he'd better PRAY for grapefruit-sized hail!

I was so upset, I couldn't get to sleep and watched movies until 2am. I overslept and was woke up by the kids at 7:45 (sale start time: 7am)! AND IT DIDN'T RAIN A DROP!

The Saga Continues...

Attack of the Japanese Beetles happened the other day in my front yard. Little nieve me, thought that would be my battle this summer. I was wrong. I looked out the window today, to my back yard and saw what can only be described as a resurrection of Night of the Living Dead in the form of Japanese Beetles. They were hatching before my eyes and swarming the lawn. There must have been hundreds of them!

I spent the day reloading my arsenal and unloading it on their asses! I've never been a big fan of Japanese culture: food, movies, kimonos, and now, their bugs! I thought this was fitting.



As I was out in the yard trying to save my trees, bushes and plants from a deathly fate such as this poor guy that I was unable to save:



I ran across something equally as traumatic as the horrific spawns of beetles hatching out of my lawn. At first, I thought it was a toy. I assure you it was not a toy. When I realized it wasn't a toy, it warranted an exclamatory what the fuck is that?!

It was the shape of a lobster, be it a miniature lobster. But being that it wasn't a lobster , it was a bug, IT WAS GIGANTIC!!! (and luckily dead or I would be in the psych ward right now!)

Seeing as how I was worried that the size wouldn't translate in a picture, I thought I would use something to compare it to...Enter the not quite as happenin' clean cut Bathtub Gangsta's brother (his brother from another mother)... that's the gargantuan bug on his lap- that's where it landed when I got very brave, with gloves and threw it by one of its claws!


All rights to Bathtub Gangsta belong to the hilariously funny (and maybe drunk, I'm not sure- definitely a little loopy from Sharpie fumes, anyway) Sue at Happy Meals & Happy Hour- if you haven't been there- go there now and read everything and cross your legs or grab some Depends because she's got some funny shit over there- she's on my sidebar- yes, I'm still too stupid to figure out how to link her for you!

Honest, this is the toy that my daughter grabbed me when I asked for a toy for the picture! The blogger gods were looking down on me!

Sale, Sale, Sale

Today I have been prepping for the old poor white trash ritual of getting rid of my poor white trash, or as many know it, the garage sale.

It is a tradition that I am not a fan of, but I also don't like clutter and could use a little extra cash... two birds... what the hell! I have spent the last 7 hours in a dirty garage where the temperature was 105 degrees while unloading tons of dusty boxes. I have broken 2 nails and I smell pretty ripe.

We moved into this house just under three years ago and there are still about 30 boxes that we never unpacked, never missed, and thus must get rid of. We also have bought new furniture and shoved the old stuff into the basement. Not to mention the toys that my kids haven't played with for 3 years (at least) that I will be sneaking into the sale. Saturday morning, they will rediscover these toys in the sale. They'll beg me not to sell them and whine but that is my favorite!

I will work my fingers to the bone for three days, sweat like a pig, wake up at 5:30AM on Saturday (because even though the ad clearly states 7AM- they will, without fail, arrive BY 6AM!), barter with the hip pack and visor wearing freaks that don't want to pay $1 for a $40 toy, sell a $300 coffee table for $4 and completely diminsh any worth that my items ever had. I can't wait!

Writer's Block

I'm all about truth, so here, it is... I drafted a post about my husband getting on my last nerve since he's been off for 4 days, not helping out around here and being a huge wimp (did not use that terminology, either) because he has a cold. I thought it was a little harsh and didn't know if anyone would want to read my venting about the sniffling lump that's been laying on my couch, and rightly so.

Frankly, I could not think of anything clever, smart, funny, or remotely entertaining to share. I stalled. I procrastinated. I surfed the web. I watched Weeds (thumbs up, by the way, almost peed my pants when I saw Celia's makeover!)... but, still, I got nothin'!

Then, lo and behold I found this little gem. It made me almost pee my pants for the second time tonight- (can you say incontinence?) I thought it was friggin' funny or maybe those little bastard beetles are breeding in my head and making me insane.

They're baaack!

I have been to hell today and it was in the form of Japanese Beetles!!! If you have these, you know what I mean, if not, consider yourself blessed in the highest form. I just thought the other day that their time was coming close... as I stepped outside to do my daily check and watering, I noticed them. They were swarming my plants and had already attacked many leaves.

I am not an expert, but have gained knowledge since they first waged their war on me and my shrubbery and trees last year. I heard that they used to be on the East Coast, but have made their way here in the last few years (thanks a lot!)
As I understand it, they are grubs, those repulsive little maggot things that kill the roots of your lawn, then they hatch into adulthood and become this coppery-black flying beetle that are relentless! They eat leaves and make them look like doilies within minutes! They can kill full sized trees in a matter of weeks!

Now, here's the thing, you should be able to treat your lawn for grubs and kill them before they hatch and take over the world. I do. I explained this to my neighbor and urged him to do so (I told him as though it would be good for him, but we all know I was looking out for myself!) He did not. So, now I am stuck battling these creepy things again this year!!!

So I, being fully obsessive compulsive me, take the challenge. I run to the store and load up on $91.00 worth of specialty bug spray, liquid and dust, and traps. Mind you, it is now the heat of the day, their busy time. As I am spraying and dusting and setting out traps, they are attacking me. I am running in circles, shaking out my hair, flailing my arms and screaming you little futher muckers (but it wasn't dislexic) just to keep them off of me- I'm a complete tard out there! I also cover my ears... I have this huge fear of them flying into my ears and setting up camp in my head- is that weird?

So good thing I am not a Japanese Beetle because I am now covered in head to toe with this dust poison. I look like I was attacked by a chalk board- and he was fuming mad! But it's on! I am fully vested in this now and I will not back down. I will have nightmares about them tonight, but tomorrow I will go out and spray them again.

Mama Bear and Papa Bear

The weekend was full of wonderfully busy, hectic family type stupid crap, did I say that? Well, at least it is better than sitting at home listening to them fight. Saturday, we had a softball game and a baseball game. The softball game was hot, long and boring, did I say that, too? I meant uneventful. Mama Bear made an appearance at the baseball game, though.

My son used to be a pitcher, but has only been used as a reliever once since switching teams 2 years ago. He was told, yesterday, at the game that he would be pitching. Since he hasn't pitched, he doesn't practice pitching anymore and since, his age group's pitching distance has gotten longer... long story short...

He hit three batters and gave up a big hit and was taken out of the game, a rarity at his age. It was painfully brutal to watch. I felt sweat dripping from parts of my body that shouldn't have been- nice visual, eh?. My head was throbbing and I clawed some nice deep cuts in my thighs from the pressure. Some parents felt his pain, but you know, there were the few asses that were bad mouthing my kid in their mind what the hell is this kid doing?

The worst part; my son was humiliated, ashamed, disappointed, and ravaged with guilt for his team's loss. Mama Bear feels that this coach shouldn't have sprung this on the poor unprepared kid and I could have clawed his eyes out (my nails were sharpened from my thighs still). The reasonable person that I am though, talked Mama Bear down and bought her a beer and, though saddened for him, I know that his coach didn't mean any harm.

My husband is not as open- minded as I... The coach was called everything, but a good Christian lady on the way home.

Pros and Cons of Camp Rock

Camp Rock, Disney's new phenomenon that brainwashes children to become slaves to the songs, movies, and merchandise, premiered last night and we were hosting a rockin' bash. I allowed each kid one friend and had treats, soda and popcorn on hand for the festivities.



My husband bought Jiffy Pop against my wishes! He has some goofy nostalgia thing about Jiffy Pop! I hate Jiffy Pop! We have an electric oven and it doesn't work well- microwave is the way to go- I told him- he doesn't listen! Unfortunately, again I was right. This is what my electric stove top looked like after the butter started pouring out of the Jiffy Pop container. The popcorn NEVER popped, the house was permeated with burnt butter and popcorn kernel smell, I had to turn on the exhaust fans to air out the place and the kids were screaming because they couldn't hear the movie- I told him NO JIFFY POP!!!


My niece's first birthday is tomorrow and my sister's oven just broke. I will be playing the role of Betty Crocker instead of watching the movie (or blogging which is what I planned on doing) oh yeah, and cleaning up this mess...



Camp Rock Soundtrack- which I will definitely be forced to purchase- $15.00

Candy- $5.00

12-pack of Sprite- $4.00

Keeping 8 kids quiet for 2 hours- priceless!

Crazy College Confessions

On my new sexy radio, I seem to be migrating back to the '90's Alternative channel. Nirvana, Live, Concrete Blonde, Radio Head- this music is cathartic to me, I can't help it.

In High School, I listened to pop music, was a cheerleader, had a boyfriend, got good grades, and, frankly, put myself to sleep. I was in college in the early
'90's. It was an awakening of my soul- does that sound corny? I don't care, it really was. I became who I am today from 1990- 1994, the real me.

Up until that time (and probably, to an extent, now) I was what I thought I should be. As a student living away from home, with all the liberties to do whatever I wanted; I did whatever the hell I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted... there were some discoveries of great love and some grave mistakes, some that I regret, some that I am glad I did, and some that I learned from... here are just a few:

* I don't smoke. When filling out my paperwork for my dormitory, I chose a "smoking floor". I thought I would have a better chance of rooming with people that were "cool".

* Daughter of an alcoholic, I was never a fan of drinking, I guess I had been "branded" that drinking was "bad"(which, certainly it is for some; many). However, in my young, scattered mind, I justified drug use was a better option. It never became an addiction, but was a crutch at times and I often credit getting pregnant with my son for giving me a reason to stop.

* I worked for a "cool" skater shop and was really into grunge. I wore Birkenstocks, bought all of my clothes at second hand stores and pierced my ears as a past time (at last count, it was 17, I think).

* I applied for the 2Nd season of The Real World. I filled out a 20 some odd page application and made a video. We traveled all around town and had a blast making it! I loved The Real World, New York, but in hindsight, I'm glad I didn't get anywhere with it because season 2- Los Angeles, sucked! I would, however, sell my music collection and maybe a kid for a chance to get that video that I sent them- I miss all those people!

* I was in a sorority (this may seem contradictory, but I am complex). I dabbled, actually. I rushed, I went through the pledging process and Hell Week. I quit the night of initiation, honestly, I couldn't afford it!

* I dated a guy that was the bass player in one of the major bands from the area. I was in the "in crowd" during that time. On all the "lists", no cover charges, dedications, blah, blah, blah- I thought I was the shit, I wasn't. Oh yeah, I wasn't even 21 yet, I made my own fake ID.

* I wanted a tattoo and wanted it on my ankle, but wanted to test it out first. Do you remember the trend of cartoon character tattoos? OK, I knew people that had Underdog, Tweety Bird, and Bugs Bunny- I got Pebbles Flintstone on my hipbone, back when there was a visible hipbone. Funny story... I was thin and not modest, maybe even a slight exhibitionist. I had gone swimming and on a whim, went to the tattoo parlor- wearing a bikini! It was located next to a strip joint named "Foxy's"- obviously a class joint and I fit right in! 'Big Jake' was a, well, big, hairy, jolly man with , what else, many tattoos. He did his artistry on my nearly naked body and I was really happy with it until my first pregnancy stretched out Pebbles' bouffant!

* About a month later, I was sick of pulling down my pants (to show off my tattoo on my hip). I got another one, a sunflower, I know, GAY! But it was on my ankle. Do you remember how popular sunflowers were? I drew it myself (which is one reason why I still don't hate it), I was one of the first people I knew to get one (or two), and it reminds me of a fond time in my life (which is the other reason why I still have it- I only wish that the cool guys at Miami Ink could whip into something that doesn't scream 1990!)

I'm going to stop getting all nostalgic on you and go host a Camp Rock party! Stay tuned, I will post highlights.

Sexy satellite radio

Ok, this will be the last one- I swear! The last post about my sexy minivan- I will probably still mention it on occasion, but no more posts to pay homage. Today I was able to drive it BY MYSELF for the first time and play with some of the toys.

I know a lot of people use this satellite radio stuff, but I was never a fan, a cynic even. First, I worked in the radio industry and I left because it was cut throat, I can only imagine what the competition of satellite radio has done to the industry. Also, I'm cheap. Why would I pay for a service when I'm perfectly satisfied with the free version?

We have a free trial for a year of the satellite radio and kid television. Since we've had it (the WHOLE 24 hours!), we keep the TV on for the kids to keep them quiet. Today, on my trip to the gym, I decided to explore the radio. Holy Crap! I had no idea! Here were a couple of my highlights...

E!Entertainment has a channel! Amy Winehouse is hospitalized for undiagnosed blackouts (gee, have they considered the crack & booze diet?) Jamie Lynn Spears had her baby, a girl, Maddie Briann (hope you have better luck than Sean Preston and Jayden James!)

There is a Broadway channel! Are you freakin' kidding me? I'm singing showtunes at the top of my voice and throwing in occasional jazz hands and looking like a total idiot to the drivers next to me- must turn the channel!

Elvis, Martha Stewart and Jimmy Buffet all have their own channel! And of course, Howard Stern. Now I am always a fan of a good talk radio and when he was syndicated here I would listen on occasion. I also have been known to watch the show that he had on E!, at the risk of getting my "I am woman, hear me roar" card revoked. But who did he have on today?... Kathy Freaking Griffin!

I have decided that this programming is a ploy to make me fall in love with satellite radio so I'm addicted to it after the year- which I'm totally going to be. Then I will sign a contract to keep it and it will then all change and be country western music and techno crap!

Day off from Blogging

Purchasing my sexy minivan (some might consider that an oxymoron, not me!) was not the only thing that occupied our day during my "day off from blogging". Sure, much of our day was spent in a car dealership talking to smarmy car salesmen while my four kids terrorized the place. Under normal circumstances, this fact alone would have made me want to poke screwdrivers into my eyes. However, I can do you one better!

That morning, I received a phone call from my husband's brother whose pregnant wife was unexpectedly having labor induced 2 weeks early. The sitter(they have 2 other kids) that they had lined up for the event were in Las Vegas and they were in a bind.

To understand completely, you must know that my husband's family is, well, a bunch of freaks. They aren't close. They get together at their mom's for a meal on Easter and Christmas- that's all. It's not geography, I think they just don't like each other. They certainly aren't how I know brother and sister relationships to be.

For our wedding, I asked the sisters to be in it, as a nice sisterly gesture. One reluctantly agreed and one refused, why, I never! The first few years of kids' birthday parties, they were all always invited and would never come. I finally realized what my husband knew all along, that I drew the short straw and got stuck with the world's most dysfunctional, misfit, mutant family as in-laws. If my kids were to see them in a line-up, they probably wouldn't be able to pick them out!

When I married into a family, I anticipated a closeness. I imagined that his sisters and I would talk on the phone and shop together and once they'd have kids, the cousins could all play together. That he would have his brothers over for poker while the in -law daughters shoot the shit. This was the type of family I grew up in. This is not theirs- I now know that, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

On to my story, so this guy is asking me to watch his kids, that we don't know well, at all, and take them for a couple of days. I didn't hesitate for a second, but I'm secretly thinking that I have to prove what an asset I am to the family and what fools they are to not want to be "close" to us. (Notice the people pleasing despair.) I plan on pulling out all the stops including my faux Supermom powers. I meet them at the hospital and pick up the kids and bring them with me.

Now, back to the dealership, if you're keeping track, it's the smarmy salesman and 6 kids terrorizing the place. After 2 hours, we've had enough torture and we have to go home and "crunch the numbers"- that is, see how much further we want to get into debt so I can drive a sexy minivan!

Once we got home, I missed the square footage of the dealership. It was cute watching the kids trying to force the 2 ton vehicles out of gear while pretending to drive. The way the cars doubled as jungle gyms and the receptionist and other customers were tormented by the kid's screaming- aaah good times!. My husband had left for work and I was left to my own devices- seriously, did you think he was helping me when he was there?

The running, jumping, screaming, crying, arguing was getting to me. Supermom was about to lose it- she held on as long as she could. Tena, the bitchy mom appeared. I made them clean up messes, take naps, eat the food they asked for and stop slamming doors. I yelled until things settled down and my house was orderly again- I could see the fear in the new girls' (well, hell, I guess they're my nieces) faces. I can just see it- mommy, mommy, she was so mean, she made us eat and clean and she yelled, oh my god, she yelled!

So far, not doing so well trying leave a good impression for the in-laws with my parenting. After naps, another situation. My Beebs woke up crying with a fever! GREAT! I take these kids in and send them back home with a fragile newborn to infest with my kids' febrile microorganisms! Yah, no guilt there!

I am attempting to deny that there was anything wrong and I will lie in a court of law if accused of anything otherwise! I dosed Beebs up with some Ibuprofen and we were on our merry way- Supermom cape back on. Brought my son to his baseball practice, let the kids eat at a burger joint, then to a playground, and ice cream on the way home. We got word that their mom had been brought in for an emergency Cesarean, so we made "get well" and "welcome baby" cards until bedtime. I managed to bathe every single filthy little body and got them to bed and they actually SLEPT!

What I learned in my day off from blogging: I learned that we have another niece that we will probably never know. I learned I was able to mess up a couple more kids, if only for 48 hours. I learned that I have my own kids trained quite well. I learned that if Supermom ever wants to show her face here again, I will have to work a nap into her schedule.

No regrets!

Where to begin? I went my first full day without a post yesterday and didn't even sit at my computer for more than 5 minutes- MIRACLE! It was a busy day that my anally regimented self did not enjoy... I'll start here with the over- indulgent purchase that is sitting in my garage (cue the harmony of angels -ahhhaaaahhhahhh)



It's loaded with all the bells and whistles and driving it is an orgasmic experience. I don't care what a dork I look like driving it. Ain't it shiny and no dings (I'm not telling my husband that when we got home from the dealership that I opened my door and hit the wall and a little, teeny, weeny paint chipped off) like I said- no dings (nudge, nudge, wink, wink!)

The best thing about it- in order to be able to afford it, my husband made a, somewhat, romantic, selfless gesture. He traded in his beloved Toyota pick up! That's right we are the proud (nerdy) owners of not ONE, but TWO minivans! The trade in value of his truck was way better than the piece of shit van that I used to drive (which is making me want to vomit since we lost about $23,000 on that purchase to depreciation in 5 years- smooth move!)

What's more, is that my husband, a law enforcement officer in one of the "most dangerous cities in the country", 6ft, 220 lbs will be driving his 40 minute commute each day in his very own personal 2002 Chrylsler Town & Country minvan! Suck it! That's for not getting me anything for Mother's Day, and I quote, "you aren't my mother."

TV Review

Tonight was the premiere night for Weeds and a new show called Secret Diary of a Call Girl on Showtime. I watch a lot of TV, probably too much, oh well. My calendar was marked and I know I'm a loser, oh well.

If you don't watch Weeds, go rent the past 3 seasons and catch up- funny stuff! It'll renew you're confidence in your parenting ability, that is unless you are also juggling raising two troubled boys while drug trafficking. Andy is the best, the brother in law, slacker in life, thinks with his penis, but funny as hell! I dated this guy (several of them actually) and am pretty sure if I met another like him tomorrow, he would still have a good chance of getting to second base with me! I am a sucker for a dawdler with an irreverent sense of humor.

Secret Diary of a Call Girl followed. What can I say? I need to take a shower. Not from being hot, but it did have that element. I feel dirty, not in the turned on way, but I suppose it may have worked for some. Let's just say I'm glad the kids were in bed and my husband may have well enjoyed it had he been home. I'm sooo not a prude and I will give this show another week to redeem itself, but it just didn't leave me wanting more. It was just OK.

The true test: when I watched The Soprano's, I wanted to be a gangsta (you know, the mob kind) or at least his wife. When I watched the "L" Word, I wanted to become a lesbian, who doesn't? When I watch Weeds, I long to sell pot to the desperate houswives in Agrestic. I don't want to be a Call Girl, yet, but just give it time.

Who were you expecting?

Expectations suck. They set you up for disappointment. Take it from me. I am the queen of pessimism. I expect very little and my low expectations leave me pleasantly surprised most of the time.

That being said, I hope you weren't expecting cute pictures from this "mommy blog"- hate that label, by the way! You may, however, be unfortunate enough to view some of my out of focus pictures from time to time so I can illustrate a point.

I hope you weren't expecting sweet anecdotes about my kids on a daily basis. If they do something sweet, you'll hear about it, that is, if my heart can take it.

I SURELY hope you're not expecting to hear how my adoring husband rubbed my feet, surprised me with, well, anything remotely romantic or helped around the house. If so, get ready for disappointment.

I read a lot of different blogs, most of them are authored by moms. Most of them are good picture-taking, sweet anecdote-telling, husband-adoring moms. I admire them and wish I were like them. The ones I visit regularily, I consider "friends"- as wierd and stalkerish as that may be. Ideally, in another life, I may just join them. Not in this life, though.

I am insecure girl turned rebellious party girl gets pregnant girl gets married girl tries to make the best of what life is girl.

Fact of the matter is, I didn't expect to get pregnant my senior year in college. I didn't expect to fall in love with this little 6lbs 15oz bundle that scared the shit out of me while making my heart melt. He made life new to me at a time when I thought I knew everything. I didn't expect to marry this man that would drive me crazy- in good and bad ways. I didn't expect to fall in love 3 more times with unique, amazing, gorgeous little girls.

I didn't expect any of this and am perfectly happy with the way things turned out- even though they aren't perfect. So if you're riding in here with your high expectations for an ideal mom blogger - Whoa Nelly! Imperfection runs rampant in these parts! Honesty is a curse for me, as my husband says I wouldn't want to rob a bank with you! I'll let you know how my life really is and maybe make yourself feel better in the process, just leave your expectations at the door.

porno e-mails and bad hair days

Well, it's official- I've sold my soul to the devil. My fiasco yesterday with the attempted ringtone purchase must have allowed some spam into my email account and it keeps coming (no pun intended!) P3n1s enlargement and D 1 ck enhancement are convinced that I am in need of their services! No, I am not intersted in 6+ inches, need no help pleasing my woman, and do not want the ability to go all night long!

As if I need more to piss me off, I'm dealing with a bad haircut! In a pinch, last night, I NEEDED a haircut, didn't have much time, so I ran to a local chain, I'll call them Outrageous Jack's.

The girl that cut my hair seemed peeved and took it out on my head. There were actual tears coming from my eyes during my shampoo (and I do not have a tender head!) Then to the chair, she was just as rough with the cut. I have very fine hair and mentioned that my hair needs to have a little "razor" cutting done to it. I don't think she had that razor tool. I'm pretty sure she just decided to PULL some of my hair out to add the texture I desired. I had the worst headache when I walked out of there!

I went to the website as soon as I got home and entered a less than satisfactory survey of my whiplash, I mean, haircut. Since I am so cheap, I will try and live with this mop that is my haircut for about a month until I can justify paying for a real hairdresser. So, here's to a month of bad hair days!

Being Nice Sucks

I will never do anything nice again. I will never do anything nice again. I must keep repeating this because I get burned everytime!

I decided that it would be a cute Father's Day gift to set my husband's cell phone up with The Soprano's theme song as a ringtone- something he hasn't wanted forever! Then I planned to text "Happy Father's Day" and he would be gushing with gratitude and come home with a smile... but that's just not the way things go.

So, I go to some ringtone website and enter in his phone number (mistake #1). Then it says the phone will be texted with a pin... so I have to call him, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, to get the pin. Mind you, he is WAAAY more clueless with electronics than I am, so I could have told him anything and would have been fine. I chose to go the "I'll tell you later" route (mistake #2).

I get the pin and enter it. Then I am redirected to another website that has nothing to do with ringtones! Since I entered the pin, I wondered, gee, was it really that easy, is it done? So, I call him.

In my mind's eye, I imagine him at work and his phone rings and it's the song he loves and he answers the phone with glee! Nope! What the hell do you want, I'm at work? Your phone didn't do anything new? No, it didn't and he wasn't in the mood and I know when to move on- so I tell him I'll call him back when I get it resolved.

Unfortunately, he beats me to the punch. He calls me back in seconds, screaming and asking about a text he just recieved from laughaholics.com: "Jesus loves you, but everyone else thinks you're an asshole"- fitting actually, to the way I was feeling about him at this moment, but that's beside the point! So, I'm really thinking I've sold my soul to the devil, here and getting nervous.

I call Verizon Wireless and get some professional help on the matter and they explain that if I didn't "approve" anything, that it should stop. I call my husband back, head hung low, coming clean, admitting defeat, but wanting to resolve the issue. I tell him what my plan was and that apparently the site I used was linked with a third party site that took full advantage of my ignorance (I got no symathy from him)!

He then tells me that when he got the text, he APPROVED it!!! He thought it was a Father's Day joke that I was sending him!!! He goes on to BLAME me for his APPROVING it since I didn't tell him what was going on in the first place! UGH! I will never do anything nice again!

Comments, please.

I reached a milestone yesterday with my "guest post" honors. Drum roll please... comments in the double digits! Woo Hoo! Let's all say it together- WHAT A DORK! So not why I do this! It was fun while it lasted, but I will move on, back to my modest 0-3 comments per post and I will be happy with that because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!

Today, I decided to do a little reading since I was visited by some new faces yesterday. I have gone to every blog that has commented on any of my posts. If my attention span cooperated, I went through archives, I felt I owed it to them. I have learned so much about so many more people! It's like being introduced to a bunch of people at a party without the judgement, self- doubt, awkward silences, or having to worry about what to wear!

Now, I'm not a huge commenter, unless it's someone I regularly visit and have some wierd delusion that I "know" them well enough to say something that could, very likely, be inappropriate! I'm quite ballsy out here in the blogosphere! I also may comment if I think I really have something to add to the pot. However, if there are over 15 comments- screw it, what am I gonna say that 15 people didn't just cover, seriously, I'm not that witty! I think it's kind of like leaving a message on an answering machine. I hate when people hang up on my answering machine. Although I do it all the time- hypocrite!

With blogging, it's a little different, though. Some people may leave a comment for "credit" that they were there, a sign up sheet, if you will. Some others, I think, use comments as an advertisement for their blog. Most of us are little fish in a big pond, after all, so if you want the readers, do what you gotta do, knock yourself out. I'm not here as a money making venture- though that would certainly be nice- I don't know that I'm that ambitious. Readers are awesome and comments are just a garnish. Empathy rocks! Someone patting you on the back and saying, I understand, I feel your pain, my kid puked on my carpet last night, too! - that's why I'm here!

Etiquette lesson

I'm a little worded out today from my blogginpalooza yesterday, so I will leave this for you to ponder. This is one of the headlines today on my MSN homepage.

Love-Child Etiquette
How to accept your cheating husband's out-of-wedlock kid, and more Father's Day tips.

Have a Happy Father's Day!

Blog crazy!

This is my 3rd post today, WTF? Can you say get a life? Oddly enough, this post is about a "guest post" that I did for Lotus over at http://sarcasticmom.com/ (sorry, still clueless how to make that a link, just paste and copy, you lazy people!) If you don't visit her already, you must, she's a hoot.

Why, you ask? Under what circumstances would you be asked to do a guest post for someone so popular- she's definitely one of the cool girls!

Here's the shameful part: I sent her a picture of my BEWBS? What the Hell, you ask? NO- Not like that! Well, kinda like that. They were clothed and my face was not shown so complete anonimity, up until now... DOH!

Here's the amazing part: I placed 3rd out of 27 with a whopping 23% of the vote! First place was to wear this "traveling shirt" on your blog. Second and third (me) got a guest post (and way more traffic than I'm used to). At the end of my post, she inserted a line sending people to visit over here, in my neck of the woods. I had just posted my "Pleasing me" post- she inserted some of her witty reparte- I think I made that one too easy!

It was a fun, silly little contest, harmless really... Will you respect me in the morning?

My Luck!

Are you shitting me? Probably the inappropriate response, but the response, nonetheless, to many mishaps last night...

12:00 midnight, my 13 year old son is standing next to me... Are you shitting me? Why are you awake? (I was startled, I censor around my kids on good days, this was not one of those days).

I threw up, he says. Oh, OK, well do you feel better, now? Get back to bed. No, I didn't make it to the bathroom.Are you shitting me? You're 13!

Go upstairs, see icky icky icky, smell icky icky icky all over his floor, bedding, dust ruffle. Are you shitting me?

Must dismantle his bed- very heavy mattress and box spring to remove vomity bedding. Lift box spring to expose a world of horror. Failing school assignments, tons of candy wrappers and empty soda cans, the long lost "cup" that I painstakingly purchased for him, about 200 Mardis Gras beads(? maybe I don't want to know?), and 23 socks!!! Are you shitting me?

Resolve and vacuum the chunks off the floor and remake bed with clean linens. I get downstairs to see the last 30 seconds of Kathy Griffin on Jimmy Kimmel (my much anticipated event for the night!) Are you shitting me?

Random notes from the day

9 year old threw a horrendous fit today in protest of cleaning room. Took away television- before Beeb's naptime- listened to 9 year old whine for an hour and a half. Punishment for her or me? Not sure.

Am way too interested in blogging. Can hardly hold head up-very tired. Still blogging. WTF? Have unusual kink in right shoulder from sitting at computer. Must get help! But not yet.

Regret eating my weight in Moe's chips and salsa.

Husband's seratonin levels out of whack today- must get away and blog- 12 step program, anyone?

Kathy Griffin on Jimmy Kimmel tonight- 2 of my favorite people- must get life!

Project Runway is back in July!

Am I the only one that just doesn't get the lure of The Hills?

Denise Richards is such a hack!

Pleasing me

You can't please all the people all the time. This rings so true in all aspects of life, doesn't it? My sane, reasonable, logical voice has been repeating this saying to my crazy, approval-seeking, people-pleaser self all day.

At home, with the kids, it's normal kid stuff. From choice of cereals to the cartoon that will be watched- no one ever agrees. I truly strive to be a mom that doesn't suck and, in that, I would like everyone to be happy. Where my kids are concerned, though, I'm OK with not pleasing them. I actually think they'll turn out better for it. I'm one of the moms that bring out my stories of woe, you should be grateful, when I was your age... I...(fill in hardship.) Everything isn't handed to you in life and it's a good life lesson to learn- even if it is just cereal and cartoons!

My husband is impossible to please and could have done without some cartoons and cereal in his time! With summer break upon us, I registered my son in a day camp, "Summer Scholars", at one of the college prep schools in the area. First reason being- a 13 year old needs to be occupied and out of my hair- did I just write that? Second, he really dropped the ball in the academic category this year, so in lieu of the athletic camp that he hoped for, I enlisted him into this computer/science camp- mean, huh?

The school is about 20 minutes away, not bad, but further than some. Although, this was a joint decision with my husband and I to sign him up, his brain was apparently away during that time (not unusual). My son was telling him details and he totally flipped. I call him the king of excuses. Here are a few he came up with: "Kids are supposed to play during summer break!" "With gas so expensive, you shouldn't be driving him all over the place!" "He doesn't even like science."

Now, you have to know my husband to understand the context of his rant. Sadly, if I explain it, he will come off pretty badly. Let me just say that he has anxiety and panic disorder and there TRULY is no pleasing him. So when he called this afternoon and my son is at a friend's house playing- (which is what kids are supposed to do during break, right?) he freaks again because, and I quote, "he's always going- can't he just stay home?!" I'm well acquainted with not pleasing him and, like the kids, I'm OK with it (since it simply cannot be done).

Which brings me to my final point. Pleasing readers. When I started this I just thought I would ramble about what was on my mind. To a large extent, I have done just that, oh yeah, sorry about that! That was the origin, but I had no idea of the thoughts that would be running through my head before, during and after writing a post!

It's hard enough to decide what to write about each day, but I'm now thinking about not pissing people off by, well, profanity. (Sorry about that, too.) I'm thinking about being true to myself, but all the while trying to fit myself into a mold that will not offend. All the while, I'm pretty sure my true self would offend. Trying to write something that will appeal to the type of people that may come across this. All the while, I don't think there is one type.

I have been second-guessing my posts, my language, and my content. Am I too boring? Am I too honest? Am I repetitive? Why do I care?

So here it is, my vow to continue to be myself. If it's not for you- thanks for playing. If you think, hey, I get a little of her crazy, well, it's great to have you, my crazy always loves company. I am here to please me and that's something I can do.

A Year without Tony

So it's been a whole year since the finale of The Soprano's aired. Can you believe it? Does it seem like a year since all of the anticipation? Does it seem like it's been a whole year of new habits on Sunday nights? Does it seem like it's been a whole year since the complete let down that was the series finale for one of television's most critically acclaimed shows in history?

I do miss tucking in the kids on Sunday night at a mean pace so I could race downstairs to hear the jazzy beat of "Woke up This Morning" as the credits roll over the beautiful shots of the Jersey landscape. It was one of those things my husband and I always did together. Watching people get whacked, blood and guts, the adultery, Goomaras, the crime, and the profanity, aaah, the romance... I'm a simple girl, that way!

I miss the scenes at the Bada Bing, something good always happened there! I could have done without the stripper's shimmying boobs in the background, but I wouldn't take that highlight away from my husband. I miss the way Adrianne whined but Christofa! I miss Dr. Melfi trying to hide her undying passion for Tony behind her bullshit psycho babble. I miss Paulie's wings. I miss Sill and his unexpected witty wisdom and bad toupee. I miss crazy Uncle Junior and how he treated Bobby like a red- headed step-child!

Oddly enough, though, I mostly miss the time that my husband and I shared. The talks that we had after that hour ended sometimes lasted longer than the show, itself. I always felt he analyzed it too much and he thought my "face value" view was too simplistic. We would predict the next episode from the 90 second teaser that we were left with. It was completely not deep, unmeaning conversation, but it was conversation. After 13 years of marriage, at least for us, fresh conversation, not having anything to do with the kids, the house, or work is refreshing and hard to come by. So thank you, David Chase, for the reprieve in my somewhat mundane marital conversations for the short 7 years it lasted. Please know that your words and characters are missed.

Our conversations have been lagging for the last year so now I must get my husband to become interested in Dexter or Weeds in an effort to save my marriage.

Who Knew?

If anyone has seen the movie Charlie Wilson's War and it was a great movie and I should really see it, please bear me the details. On the other hand, if it totally sucked, bored you to tears or was overrated as the critical success, by all means- share!

Here's the thing... I belong to Blockbuster Total Access. You go online, pick movies you like, recieve them in the mail, then mail them back for one monthly price. The reason I chose Blockbuster (as opposed to Netflicks), is that, if I get the urge, I can go to the location, exchange the mail-in movie for one at the store and not have to depend on snail mail before I get a new movie (and I'm all about instant gratification!).

Two weeks ago, I did just this. I traded, in-store, my Before the Devil Knows You're Dead for Charlie Wilson's War. Little did I realize that yard work, baseball games, practices, birthday parties, and "being so tired I could hardly hold my head up" life was going to keep me from watching the movie. I kept the movie one day past due with the silly nieve notion that I would watch it the next day. Then the next, and the next, and the next.

So, I'm a realistic person that can admit defeat. I give up, I wasn't going to watch this movie. Oh yeah, and I recieved a phone call that I would be charged the amount of the movie if not returned by midnight the next day. (And by phone call, I mean a ridiculous automated robot voice calling from (000)000-0000.) I put the movie in the car before we leave for the day's errands and drop the movie off at a Blockbuster along the way. Mind you, not the Blockbuster that I usually use or the one that my account was set up at (which is an hour away!), nonetheless IT WAS RETURNED TO BLOCKBUSTER!

So a half an hour ago, I get a phone call from the robot stalker at (000)000-0000 informing me that my credit card has been charged $23.99 for Charlie Wilson's War !!! I immediately call the Blockbuster that I returned it to, to complain. My name is not in their files, huh? Apparently, all Blockbusters do not use the same computer system, huh? I returned it to the wrong one and am not getting credit for having returned it, huh??? While the managers at my Blockbuster are resolving this issue for me, I ask you, did anyone else know this???

20 Things I will never do

Jen at Cheaper Than Therapy posted this meme for anyone to take. I see people say they've been "tagged" to do a meme, I assume that means someone "asks" you to do one(?)... I wasn't asked or tagged and never have been, but I was always the last one picked for kickball in grade school, too! So here goes:

20 Things I will never do:

1.) Be considered "sweet". I'm perfectly nice and likeable, but I'm too honest, realistic, blatent, outspoken... you get the idea.

2.) Be computer savvy!

3.) Eat broccoli- I am a person that has a strong sense of smell and broccoli stinks, thus it will NEVER go in my mouth!

4.) Eat seafood- see reason #3

5.) Like black and white movies (they bore me!)

6.) Be relaxed- being uptight is a part of me!

7.) Be satisfied with my appearance- what can I say, I'm superficial when it comes to myself- I easily see beauty in everyone else!

8.) Lose my sense of humor

9.) Like to read

10.) Get rid of my strech marks- They don't look like strech marks-they look like I was in a bad cat fight with a mountain lion and I had to get surgery to stop the bleeding and the surgery went awry!

11.) Stop using profanity- I don't know what's wrong with me- I have a potty mouth!

12.) Not be annoyed to high hell about simple grammatical errors. Yes, that is a double negative and it's like nails down a chalk board!!!

13.) Be rich, but I will always dream of it!

14.) Regret my life or mistakes I've made. I choose to learn from them.

15.) Forget my friends- even if we don't talk all of the time, I'll always be there for them when they need me.

16.) Get a belly ring or wear a midriff showing bikini - see reason # 10

17.) Have a pet- don't even go there- I've heard it all- We all have allergies and I am a neat freak!

18.) Choose to eat something salty over something chocolatey (now it could be a tie in the case of chocolate covered pretzels)

19.) Be a vegetarian- I'm carniverous- like my steak medium rare and bloody-grosses my husband out!

20.) Stop looking for a deal- I'm cheap, I mean frugal.

Ok, there it is, phew... that was harder than I thought! Thanks for the material on a brain dead day, Jen!

Crushing dreams- one kid at a time!

My 13 year old son doesn't get excited about much. He mumbles when he speaks, rolls his eyes constantly and doesn't have much of an opinion except that I'm mean and he hates his sister (the 9 year old).

The other day, he asked if he could go down and find his old Hot Wheels because he was interested in drawing up ideas for cars. He goes on to explain that he wants to design cars for a living and he has a bunch of great ideas. He sketches them up and comes down to show us. The car is called the "Havoc"- pretty cool, I thought! It's a cool sporty car, I'm impressed! Then he shows the logo that he wants to be on his brand of cars. Our last name begins with an "S". Now, I'm thrilled with his excitement in ANYTHING, I don't care. My husband, not being a thinking man and all, sees it and had to burst his bubble... well, that looks just like the Hitler insignia.
I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was close (it wasn't exactly the same.) Sadly he hung his head, "back to the drawing board!"

Trip to the Library

I have a theory that nice moms, lovey dovey moms, sweetie pie- type moms are destined for heartbreak and let downs. I have friends that are this type of mom and their kids are AWFUL!!! It's painful to watch. The kids are spoiled, blatantly rude and crude and downright brats. Oh sweetie, we don't do that or Ok, honey I will get you a toy. You get more bees with honey, my ass! You squash that bee or it's going to sting you!

After 4 days of constant barraging of whine- and not the good kind that takes the edge off- Mom, can we go swimming? (It's raining) We never do anything fun! (this week they have had 3 games, 2 practices, and 3 friends over) I hate your stupid reward and punishment list! (it's working well, no?)... I gave in this afternoon... I brought them to the library. Now, this is not my idea of fun, but they were excited, so we were on our way.

So, at first I have to beg the lady at the counter for a good idea for a book for my 13 year old son, who frankly I'm afraid is turning all "emo" on me! He's not a lover of reading, but I insisted he find something to occupy rainy days and down time. He does not like Sci-Fi type stuff and he's not a girl- it seems like most of the books toward his age group were in those categories. So with eyes nearly getting stuck up in his head, the nice lady picked out 3 books that were sport related- perfect! As she walked away, he put them back- I know she saw him out of her peripheral vision- I (not so) slyly slapped off his baseball hat and muttered as I ground my teeth "you are getting those damn books!"

Lovely, so we are off to a nice start on our little outing. Next, I run over to child #2- she is going in 4th grade and has read every book in each series that she has any interest in. She's flipping through a magazine. "Ooh, Will Camp Rock or High School Musical be better!" Don't know, don't care, you're making me look like a bad mom, by flipping through a thoughtless magazine in a library (bad influence, ya think?)- go find a BOOK or 8!

Now, child #3, is a lover of books, finally! She was reading in preschool and has a seventh grade reading level(she is going into 2nd)- not a skill that she inherited from me! But it's awesome, she's a borderline geek when it comes to books. Don't get me wrong, she's very cool and has friends, but she is sucker for non-fiction! By time I'm done with #1 & #2, #3 has about 15 encyclopedia looking books- she's ready to go. She's my favorite at this moment!

I run back to the preschool age books and grab a handful (sadly, the ones she likes are the ones that are taken from cartoons-oh well) of Dora, Calliou, Barney, Arthur and I threw in some Berenstain Bears for good measure because I like them. Done. Head to the front to checkout.

I owe $24.80 from last summer's overdue books!!! WTF? I don't have my checkbook or $25 cash, so she says since it's under $25 that I can still check out new books and I will have to pay next time I come in (which may be a while after the way this trip went!) So we get all checked out, put our ridiculous number of books in my eco friendly grocery bags and I've lost Beebs! I find her playing with dolls, wha? Where did you get these from? There is a display where they sell "Ty" Brand baby dolls- AT THE LIBRARY!!! So the tug of war is on. I try to pull them out of a very strong, screaming and yelling 3 year olds' grip. The tags rip off and I throw them back on the display and run out.

My theory proves true, this trip was a huge let down, that's what I get.

Now I must:
Find a new library, preferably one without a toy department!

Remember to turn these books back in ON TIME!

Never be foolish and do something "nice" for my kids again!

One Household- Two Childhoods

It's never a good sign when something has to be prefaced, but here goes: Let me preface by explaining why I created this blog "My Therapy". It was intended to be just that. It has morphed into quite a random crap kind of ramble. Which is fine, most of the time. However, NEWSFLASH! I have skeletons, I bet many of us do, but I have some doozies. In order to air out some of the issues that may arise in my everyday life, some back stories may be necessary. I have written a few of these over on the Anthill, but felt I needed to air out some dirt laundry at my place now. There will be more to follow so my future posts will make more sense in the correct context. So here is just a taste of the dysfunction that is me:


I have a sister who is 7 years younger. My parents divorced when I was 10 and she was just 3. I have many memories of my chaotic childhood and some issues from it, as well. My sister, however, remembers nothing negative. Our whole life, you would have thought we were raised in two different families, because essentially, we were.

My dad was in and out of rehabs throughout my adolescence. I remember the violence, the rage, and the fear his disease created in us. I remember wondering if he would have the face of Dr.Jekyl or Mr.Hyde on any given night. I remember the apprehension in the air waiting for his return home after a night out and hiding under the covers as all hell would break loose between he and my mom. When I was
15, my dad finally found a program that worked for him and has been recovering for 20 years.

My mom, until I was 10, was a broken woman, while she raised me. She was just tired and didn't know where to turn or how to deal with the life she found herself in. After the divorce, she recovered well and moved on, but partially, for me, some damage had already been done.

My sister has no recollection of my mom's anguish and weakness, my dad's disease and anger, and all the pain that resonated in our house during her first few years. Even after the divorce, my parents were able to hide the lingering problem of addiction from her. She was raised by a confident, independent, and above all happy woman and it shows.

My sister and I have very similar lives now. We each are married with 4 kids, 3 girls and a boy. We both stay at home and each have a modest one income family, so we understand making sacrifices. We agree on most everything and are best friends.

There is a glaring difference in us though. She doesn't have the insecurities that I have. I try so hard to please, she couldn't care less what anyone else thinks! She makes friends easily, I'm self-conscious and cynical. I'm hard on myself and am my worst critic, she is happy-go-lucky and doesn't expect perfection in her life.
I'm happy that she is so well- adjusted, and was able to come out unscathed, but sometimes I'm sad and a little jealous that I carry this baggage.

Well, It Ain't E! News, but...

Today, I have been inflicted with SASD (short attention span deficit). Nothing has kept my attention for more than, oh, 6 minutes. It's very hard to write a sensible post on days like today when my brain isn't working.

A perfect day for thoughtless random celebrity crap (this is what I was looking at for 6 minutes!). Here are some things I discovered. Let me know if I have my facts wrong, I don't think I read one story all the way through!



*** Vanity Fair is reporting Gina Gershon (I thought she was a lesbian) and Bill Clinton had an affair, wha???

***Lindsey Lohan told OK magazine that she's a lesbian.

***Tila Tequila is suspected to not be a bisexual, after all- surprise!

***Tatum O'Neal- recovering drug addict arrested for buying crack- claimed at first that it was research for a role- now says the relapse was due to her dog dying. Can you say take responsibility?

***Linda Hogan, Hulk's ex, is dating a 19 year old boy!!! And they oddly resmemble each other! Ick!





***Does NO ONE wear underwear in Hollywood? I don't get it? I can't even comfortably wear a thong, but these ladies just lay it out there! She deserved that crappy inset picture! Put on some panties, do I have to be the one to tell you that you are 41 years old???!!!

***Top Chef- I am a fan! Part One of the finale is tonight- I am not a fan of the 2 part finale- it sucks! Anyhow, if you watch... Richard Blaise is one of the finalists (who I didn't like at first, but now he's my fave) there was an episode where they cook for children and are assigned a child to be their helper. He got kind of emotional being around the kids and said he couldn't wait to get home to "make a baby"- so sweet even though I sort of thought he was gay and was confused, but he wasn't- he was married and he and his wife just had a daughter, Riley Maddox Blaise.

***Cameron Diaz and Diddy an item, kinda wierd, but OK!

***Two words: Willie Zeitgeist- how have I never heard of this guy? He's apparently on MSNBC. With my love for all things useless and stupidly funny- I think I love him. If I were more technologically inclined, ideally ,I'd love to put the video on here, but that ain't happening! So try this:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/24970364#24934629

I like it all, but particularily enjoyed the "school cupcake ban"!

Dear Damn Bird!

Dear Mrs. Robin,

Please accept my apology for the need to dismantle and relocate the home that you so lovingly assembled in the gutter outside of my bedroom window.

I must say, I will not miss being woken up by you and your babies at the crack of dawn each and every morning. The ants that must enjoy congregating near your nest have found their way into my bedroom and I have fumigated my bedroom and really pissed of my husband with the fumes, so thanks for that!

It only took my dad and I 3 hours of power washing to remove your waste from my windows, the side of my house, and my patio. When one of your youngin's pooped on my daughter's friend's hot dog today, I'm afraid that was the last straw.

I struggled with the decision to relocate your residence since it was located 30 feet off of the ground and I ,not a bird like yourself, am deathly afraid of heights, ineveitably you left me with no choice. Since it has been raining here for three months, and you have blocked the flow of water out of my gutter, I have been having some water issues in my house- I won't attemp to procure the funds for restituion, as I feel you will not be good for it.

My condolences to you regarding any casualties that may have occured during the relocation. I hope you enjoy your new home in my neighbor's yard (he never cuts or cares for his lawn). You should be quite happy there!

80's flashback

My younger sister hosted an "80's" party this weekend. The irony of this party is that I was the only person in attendance that was any more than an embryo when the
80's began! My reference point of the 80's was much different than a bunch of twenty somethings. Def Leppard, Whitney Houston, REM, New Kids on the Block was the music they played- No Duran Duran, Culture Club, Flock of Seagulls or ABC, WTF?

As I was planning my wardrobe for the festivities, I struck out at the second hand stores so I ventured to the mall. I don't go to the mall much- I'm lucky to make it to Target. <<< NEWSFLASH >>> Did you know that the 80's styles are currently being sold in stores??? Young, hip, normally happenin' girls' boutiques carry leg warmers, geometrics, leggings, chunky jewelry- what is happening to the world. This stuff was ugly back then, WTF!

So it's a costume party, I'll get in the spirit and try on this stuff. Now, I know I've grown, but even the XXL T- shirts are tight, tight, tight! Back in the
80's we wore things baggy and bulky. Now the same styles are made to be skin tight- not a pretty sight on me! I bit the bullet and bought some horrendous neon yellow zebra (I must confess, I'm currently in a zebra print stage) halter because it was a forgiving baloon shape shirt- forgiving not flattering, WTF!

One of my sister's friends thought it would be funny to bring in her older sister's (that was in my class!!!) yearbooks from the 80's! As I walk in, they are gathered at a table laughing at the hairstyles and clothing- yep, I'm in all of them! Big hair, neons, hammer pants, blue eye eyeshadow- I was a fashion criminal!


I learned a few things about me and the 80's: no one had short hair in the 80's (because I could do nothing authentic with my short- MATURE haircut), I wore my makeup like a hooker, I personally added to the pollution crisis with all of the aerosol hairspray I used, getting old sucks, and flashbacks aren't always a good thing!