So much to say, so much to say, so much to say...

And so little time. As you might have guessed from my lack of posting, I was busy as a bee last week. So glad THAT's over. Phew! Working at work? Whodathunk? This week isn't looking any better actually, but I thought I would take a minute and introduce you to...

my family.
Ah yes...the family portrait. I had the first one...FIRST ONE taken for the church directory this year. I was very excited about it. And here it is...Doesn't it look sweet? Isn't it nice. I mean, it's not the best...but it'll do. Jen says I look too fake. She CLEARLY doesn't understand how much I hate myself in pictures...that's a good smile for me. My eyes are open. The boys have their hair cut now, so they don't even look like that anymore. But.it'll.do! What? What's that? Oh yeah...it won't do. Because I'm not showing you the whole picture. On purpose. You see...if I show you the whole picture, you'll laugh. If I show you the whole picture...well...here goes...
Ummmmm, yeah...that would be my husband's hand ON MY ASS in the church directory photo. On...my...ass. Seriously? Seriously...did they pose all the families this way?? And my hands, ugh, my hands...all pudgy and dry and folded in my lap. Ew. And you can see that strange little bench we were straddling. But mostly, my husband's hand is on my ass in the church pic. Great. It just looks weird, the way he's sitting, and wholly unnatural. Oy vay.

I'd also like to take just one minute and bitch about my brackets. I was fine. FINE until the Longhorns decided to act like they've never played basketball before wasting the brilliance of Durant who should go pro next year. I picked 12 of the Sweet 16, which is good, I guess. And congrats to Scottish, the Salukis are once again in the dance...

Friggin Longhorns.

Happy anniversary...

happy anniversary
happy anniversary
HAA-ppy anniversary
(circa The Flinstones...)

It's been a YEAR...a full friggin year of blogging, folks...194 episodes of pure, unadulterated nonsense. I've lasted more than most sit-coms. We've pretty much covered every topic, haven't we? Booze, shoes, kids, crazy parents, husbands, vacations, booze, food, music, movies, swearing, booze, current events...

It's been quite a year, looking back. I like having this blog around, it helps me remember what the heck I've been up to.

It's also JBrave's husband's birthday. He doesn't ever come out here, not even to lurk...but I have to acknowledge the guy's birthday anyway because he's Julie's hubby and I've known him for what? 25 years? That deserves a little shout out, I guess. So happy birthday to Chris!

Now on to more important topics...no time to revel in the anniversariness of the day.

My husband, well, he's upgrading...trading in on a newer model. Not ME you sillies...the bike...the Harley. Yeah, I've had this blog longer than he's had that bike, but it's time for bigger and apparently better. Meet the new little woman. She's a 2007 Harley Davidson Road King Classic. (insert Tim Allen man-noises here) Yes, this is the color he's getting. Yes, he's getting the white-walls. She's a beauty, and she better be a keeper, by golly, because I'm not doing this again. I cannot, repeat CANNOT talk about bikes and money and money for bikes any any any more. It's exhausting. And truthfully. I DON'T CARE. Do not care. Anymore than he wants to hear me prattle on about shoes, I cannot listen to him prattle on about chrome this and engine that and blah-blah-blah-cakes. He should be picking it up as I type this, I don't know if he'll stop by with it or not.

My complaint about this bike? There is no graceful way to get on the sucker. I tried. In the showroom. In front of people. It wasn't pretty. I almost fell. It's like mounting a friggin' horse, it's so big. (That's what SHE said...chick-chick-boom! mra3=dork) So I have a vision in my head of me trying to climb on this bad boy at some bike event and looking even more like an idiot than I already do at these things. All the real biker chicks will be pointing and laughing at the newbie. Wouldn't be the first time.

Wanna hear a joke as told by the Pastor at Alex's confirmation class last night?
How do you make Holy Water?
You boil the hell out of it.

Thank you - thank you - I'll be here all week, try the veal.

Well, it's been a great year - anxious to see what happens THIS year. With the hubby managing Owen's baseball team, wine tastings, fabulous beach vacation the sequel and Alex starting high school...it's sure to be a doozy.

The nerve of some people...

Well Friday was the big who-ha...the fandago...the fundraiser for Alex's trip. Nevermind that we basically had TWO WEEKS to form committees and plan a spaghetti dinner for 300, a silent auction and a fun fair. Awesome. I like to think I did more than my fair share. I supplied Dance Dance Revolution for the fun fair (game console, dance pads and all), baked goods for the cake walk (mandatory) and collected items from the silent auction. And then there was the spaghetti dinner - this was the committee I was actually on.

I pooled my resources...got donations from the community to help offset our costs. Made plenty of phone calls - faxed many letters. Printed the "thank you" place mats. The gal who was leading our committee was great - nice as pie and told me that some women, who work at the school, are "caterers" and "offered to help." I put all of this in quotes for a reason.

When I get there after work the hall looks great - tables are set, some people are eating, spaghetti is cooking. My job? Greet the peeps and take their money. BRILLIANT! Then the place fills up...FILLS UP and we are...out of pasta. Ya know how they say a watched pot never boils? Well, lemme tell ya - when you have 100 pairs of eyes on that pot it takes even loooooonger. LONGER. out of pasta? They didn't precook any. Whodawa? Scuse me? You are CATERERS and you didn't precook the pasta??? So I'm politely sending people away so they don't have to stand in line...you know...like the senior citizens who can barely walk the line as it is in their corrective shoes. Let's not make them stand in friggin' line. "Go check out the items in the silent auction I say" or "maybe have a cup of coffee and chat for a bit"...nice ... then we run out of pasta completely...not just the cooked stuff...all of it. And they still only have the one pot on a 10 burner stove boiling away.

I politely make a couple of suggestions to the kitchen about re-using the water so it won't take as long to boil - met with angry stares.

After we run out of pasta for the 3rd time, and we're running out to buy more pasta for the 2nd time, and let's remember that I'm the one out front dealing with the disgruntled masses, trying to smile and make it seem like we've got it all under control - well, I've had it.

I go back to the kitchen fill two more pots and put them on the stove. Mumbling from the professionals. I square up, look at them and say "you can say whatever you want about me, but when she gets back, I'd like to have some boiling water for her to put that pasta in."

Needless to say I was a "bitch" and a few other choice words they mumbled under their breath. She told me to get out of her kitchen. I told her that when she was ready to go out and tell the 75-year-old woman who has been standing in a line for 30 minutes why a caterer can't boil more than one pot of water at a time, I'd be happy to leave. Until then, shut your pie-hole.

Okay, maybe I didn't say THAT. But I held my ground. She told me I was starting shit. I told her the only thing I was starting was boiling water on the stove. It was labeled the worst spaghetti dinner ever. EVER. And they've been doing this for 20 years.

I have a plan for Owen's year. I will redeem myself!!!!
ETA: OMG OMG OMG - so Alex went to his friend's house after school, and friend's dad was outside working on the car when I pulled up to get him after work. Says to me "I hear there were some problems in the kitchen on Friday" "Yeah, it was a little hectic" "I heard there was a rather loud altercation..." I'm hearing things like this a lot about this event. Someone told me that people were COMING DOWN FROM THE FUN FAIR TO SEE THE DRAMA IN THE KITCHEN. I guess that drama was me and supposed-caterer lady. Great. I wonder what kind of rep I have now, because SPL works at the school, so she can spin this any way she wants. Lovely.

You got punk'd!

HA!

Okay, so awhile ago I got this phone call from a business associate asking me if I wanted a free lunch. Ummm, yeah, have you met me? OF COURSE I want a free friggin' lunch. And then she says it involves a favor. Now hold on just one second - a favor makes this lunch notsofree. What is the favor?

Well, let me tell you how it played out.

Yesterday I go to said business associates daughter's bridal shower. Do I know the daughter? No. Does she know me? No. And when I get there, Nancy is pretending not to know me either. Perfect. I take a seat in the middle of the room. A nice lady, Denise, is kind enough to sit with me because I don't know anyone. Charming.

The bride comes by - ummmm, I don't think I know you. Yeah, you don't. My husband is a friend of your fiance. Really? she says. How does he know him? I have no idea, I said...I was just given an invitation and told to come there. Really? She says - getting more confused by the minute. Fine - Denise is asking far too many questions as well - you know, those really personal questions - do you live around here? Do you know the bride or the groom? Neither - that threw her for a loop.

So there I sit, making small talk and drinking punch. The bride approaches again - what is your husband's name? I tell her - oh, so your last name is...and she thinks for a minute - oh crap, she recognizes my name. I didn't consider that. I lie. I tell her, no I don't work at such-and-such...I'm a stay at home mom. Oh, she says, confused almost to the point of panic - there must be two of you. Yes. Denise offers up that she knows someone with my name as well - hmmmmm, I say...there must be 3 of us then...hahahaha...I'm so friggin' funny.

And now it's time for my theatrics because this bride is on my like flies on shit. So I get up, approach the bride and ask her who is running the shower? My mom, she says and takes me over to introduce me to my business associate, who is pretending she doesn't know me.
Me: Hi, this is a lovely shower, but there's a problem.
BA: What's wrong?
Me: I'm at the wrong shower...
BA: WHAT?
Me: The shower I'm supposed to attend is next weekend...I don't know you or anyone else here, and I'm at the wrong shower.
BA: You're kidding me?
Both of us are now talking pretty loudly and have the attention of most of the room.
Me: I feel so awful - let me pay you for the food I ate!

I rush off to get my purse, knock it over and dump the contents all over the table. You could have heard a pin drop. The bride is actually rubbing my back at this point and telling me it's okay - "you can just stay" she says.

"NO!" I scream - "I've never been so embarrassed- I have to leave" and I now HURL the contents of my purse all over the table. Someone actually gasps...NO ONE is speaking. I gather my things, hug the bride and rush out the door. SILENCE.

BA rushes out after me - and we both die in fits of laughter - she calmly goes back into the room and says "What was in her purse?"

They don't get it.

I come back in and she introduces me, tells the room it was all a gag - and says that the game is to list the contents of my purse.

No one can believe it...I walk over to the bride-to-be, tell her I am, in fact who she thought I was and shake her hand. She is amazed...she got punk'd, at her bridal shower - for a game. Apparently I was pretty good because most of the room felt horrible for me and could not believe that someone could actually show up to the wrong shower. I ate cake, had some coffee and was on my way. One woman asked if I could do it again so they could get it on video.

Are you kidding me? You can't just recreate art!
HA!
My short stint as an actress is over...it was fun.

Danger, Will Robinson, Danger...

First, the end of the soup story - they at it. They at it all - pretty quickly actually. If anyone had complaints about it, I never heard them. 9 crock pots of soup GONE in 40 minutes. 40 MINUTES! 9 CROCK POTS!! THAT is a lot of soup! They are worried that they won't have enough soup next week and I'm not working - but - get this - I told Alex's teacher that I WOULD BRING SOUP. WHAT is wrong with me, exactly? Why do I offer up this shit? I can't stop myself. No one asked me if I could bring soup - I just volunteered myself. "Well...this is on my way home, and even though I'm not working I guess I could drop off some soup." And then I thought to myself - DUH! The working isn't actually the HARD part - it's MAKING THE FUCKING SOUP. Sweet Jesus in a crock pot - it's a condition I have and it's a problem. I should be medicated...or studied...or both.

Didja see today's news? Apparently a couple of 6th graders had sex in shop class - yeah, that's what I said...6th graders. The administration didn't tell anyone it happened, I'm assuming they punished the kids involved...but they didn't send home a notice to all the parents saying "Hey, we had an incident..." - and the parents are outraged. OUTRAGED because it happened 4 months ago and they are just now finding out. Huh. I don't get it. I'm sure punishable offenses happen all the time at middle school - but I don't think the school is under any sort of obligation to write home every time. I think all of the parents of the kids in that class should have been informed, depending on what they witnessed. Part of what people were saying is that it only lasted 30 seconds. However unimpressive, I don't think the longevity of the act has any bearing on the magnitude of the incident.

I mean, does the school have to inform all parents every time there's a fight? Or there's an incident on a bus? Or they find drugs in someone's locker? Did this really warrant a schoolwide informational letter?

But the part that concerns me is that the Attorney for the Indiana Dept. of Education said that "the kids weren't in any danger." Not in any danger?? Not in any physical danger, maybe - but I think any 6th graders are in danger if they are not only choosing to have sex, but choosing to have sex IN CLASS. I also think the kid who was the lookout is in danger - and any kid who saw this is in danger of having their whole view of the appropriateness of sex at this age altered. This whole situation is dangerous...and PS - the teacher was IN THE ROOM. For those of you who went to Liberty - can you friggin' imagine having sex - in Mr. Bike's class? Wasn't that his name...the old guy who wore the lab coat. Remember him? CAN YOU EVEN FATHOM THIS???

And they are saying that they "had sex" not that they had "oral sex" - we're talking full on intercourse here, people. WTF??? Joy - what would your school do? Any other teachers lurking? Any parents have an opinion?

The soup story, volume II

So I couldn't do it...I couldn't lie. Those of you who know me know that I can't lie to save my life anyway, so to lie, to the Lutherans...to their faces, about the soup - wasn't going to happen. I thought I could make a go of it, but as soon as I got there, someone asked me for my recipe. Ummm, recipe? Yeah...now where did I put that recipe? Hmmmm...

Lemon-rice soup recipe:

1. Get out crock pot.
2. Go to Pappas Family Restaurant
3. Order quarts of soup
4. Gently (and this is important) pour the soup into the crock pot with minimal splatter on your work clothes.
5. Turn on crock pot.
6. Serve!

They couldn't have cared less. It was gone in 10 minutes...everyone loved my secret lemon-rice soup. BRILLIANT.

It's Wednesday...again...and I'm supposed to be bringing soup...again. Well - I haven't had a moment of downtime since I got home. Some of you might argue that I could have made soup on Monday night instead of having wine with my girlfriends who stopped by after the school board meeting ten different shades of pissed off. I couldn't! I had to make the chips & salsa that I learned how to make at my knife skills class! I mean, I had to feed them, right? What kind of hostess would I be??? It was bad enough I made them sit there and watch me put away groceries while we chatted...I couldn't have them starving, too.

So today, new plan...new lie. I can totally do this. Except, the soup might suck. I bought some powdered broccoli/cheese soup package ... just add water! And it's in the crock pot right now cooking away. But here's the kicker. I needed hot water. And we don't have a stove here, so I used the hot water from the coffee maker. And YES, I just pushed the brew button and let it fill up a coffee pot of hot water and poured it into the soup mix. The real problem? I didn't want to use the filter basket because that TOTALLY reeks like coffee. The pots are fine, but the filter basket? Smells the like coffee past and it's not good. But if you don't use the filter basket, the water kind of sprays everywhere...and not in the coffee pot. So I put some clean filters in there and I tasted the water...it didn't taste like coffee....so I think I'm good.

Seriously? I'm serving coffee-broccoli-cheese soup to the Lutherans tonight. I'm even more pathetic than last week. I didn't sign up for next week's supper. Phew! I'll let you know how it goes.

Memories...like the corners of my mind...

Misty water-colored memories...
of the way we were....

Sing it Barbara!

So I went to PA this weekend to visit Carol - who is faring mahvelously, btw. She is kicking chemo's ass, making it her bitch...all of those powerful macho sayings you can think of. She looks great, she's feeling mostly good...we had a great weekend. Mostly I was there for entertainment, and entertain I did.

Thursday night we watched Idol eliminations and Are you smarter than a 5th grader (ummm, no.) and Nashville Star. Coolest thing on Idol EVER - when Leslie was doing her sing-out, she changed the lyrics to "Why on earth did I scat" "America doesn't like jazz" or something like that. Love that girl. Maybe they'll bring her back when they boot Antonella for her nudey pics and underage drinking....not that I agree with them booting ANYONE over that, but if you're going to ding the heavier-set black girl for the same offense, you have to nix the pretty white girl, too. The difference? Frenchie could actually SING, while Antonella is just eye candy for ... someone.

But this isn't about Idol! This is about my TRIP. This is about my entertaining skills - crazy mad skills of entertainment proportions. Friday found us at the wig store, and what a time it was! You can see my personal best on the right. I have plenty more where this came from. Long wigs, short wigs, curly wigs, straight wigs, pink wigs, two-tone wigs...you name it, we tried it on.

We got Carol's hair layered up a little more so she looks totally cute now...she felt like she looked like a boy, now she looks like a rock star. Especially since I put red highlights in both of our do's. My hairdresser is going to have a heart attack.

Driving through Mon Valley, however was just a little depressing. You know how when you're a kid, and there are things that are just, just...well, cool. Places you've been, things you've seen - and then you go to take YOUR kids there or share it with someone else and it's just not the same and you're like "how is my memory of this SO DIFFERENT??? I swear this mountain at this putt-putt course was taller than the Sears Tower!" Well - I had that experience a few times on this trip. One of the biggest memories of my trips to PA in my youth was the shopping Valhalla that was Gabriel Brothers - or Gabe's as we liked to lovingly call it. I can remember buying all sorts of designer goods there for nothing - NOTHING, I say. I think I even brought Jul back a shirt I bought her for like $2. I was so proud. The long and the short of it, Gabe's is a glorified bruised and reduced store - you know what I mean. Sometimes you go in and get lucky and find something for a steal. Mostly you just weed through the junk and wonder what you're doing there.

I went there in the hopes I could find a pair of sneakers. Because, well, mine are missing. Yes, it's true. Missing. I can't find them anywhere. It's been weeks, maybe months. At this point I can't remember the last time I wore them and they're just...gone. I've stopped looking and I'm just going to buy a new pair. I'm due. I bought those like 5 years ago, on sale, at Kohl's (Kohl's was having a SALE??? Shocking!) for $16. Yes...because they were breaking up with the Asics brand (they no longer sell them there for women) - I got these for a steal. And they were great. And now they're gone. Anyway...
So I went to Gabe's! The best.store.ever. The store of my youth! The store of bargains and great finds and...

hot dogs. People - I couldn't get past it. You know how you walk into a home improvement store and they're selling some sort of processed meat product and it smells so good you think "I have to hurry up and shop because I will just DIE if I don't get my hands on some processed meat with mustard and onions when I leave!!"

This was nothing like that. This was high school cafeteria meat smell. And it permeated the entire place. And it's not small...it's like warehouse huge and I was as far from the door as you could get and all I could smell were those damn dogs. Killing.me. Killing my shopping experience. And they didn't have any good kicks in my size. And they didn't have much of anything that caught my eye. I was depressed. I was lost....where was the fantastic bargain shopping of my youth where I would load up my cart while my mom smiled on???

So I grabbed some popcorn and a large fountain drink on my way out and sadly made my way back to Carol's. Maybe next time they'll have some shoes for me...or at least a belt. Something.

No soup for you!

OMG - so I had this whole post typed up this morning and then something kooky happened and phhhhhht! GONE. WTF? What key combo did I come up with that scrapped what I was doing and started editing the previous post? Bizarro-world. I'm so upset. I was funny. It won't be nearly as funny now. Or maybe it will be. You didn't get the chance to read what I wrote before. Maybe I'll be even funnier! To dare to dream...

Soooooooooooo
Alex goes to a private school. And this private school just so happens to be a Lutheran school which means chapel and religion classes and priests behaving inappropriately with...wait...no...scratch that...that's Catholic school...have to wait for that one next year. The 8th graders at this school get to take an 8th grade trip to Washington, D.C. every year. Brilliant! And I get to go! MORE brilliant! This was the 8th grade trip I never took. I didn't get to go. Julie got to go. I didn't get to go. Just like my senior year trip to Paris that EVERYONE ELSE in my 4th year French class got to take - but not me. Even though I would have been taking a boat tour down the Seine on my BIRTHDAY. It's so pathetic, I think I still have the tear-stained brochure somewhere. And then there's the freshman year in college mandatory spring break trip to Florida. Never happened. My girlfriends loaded up the car and went without me. My parents said no.

So now I'm officially living vicariously through my son. Only slightly MORE pathetic would be if I said I chose this school because of this trip. I assure you I did not. But it was a fantastic perk. To go on this trip the 8th graders do fundraisers to offset the cost. One such fundraiser is the spaghetti dinner/silent auction/fun fair next Friday night. I'm selling tickets...and you're all buying them, right??? RIGHT??? Another fundraiser is hosting the Wednesday night soup dinner before Advent and Lent services. We worked a couple during Advent. I made soup, I brought soup, I ate soup, I cleaned up soup, we made money, I went home.

And now it's Lent, so I signed up for tonight's dinner. But that was before. That was before the weekend of no power. That was before I remembered that Monday night was the biggest.night.in.Scouting - the blue and gold banquet. That was before my laundry room became so overcome with dirty clothes that they formed a human body and trashed my house. That was BEFORE. And so here I sit, with no soup.

So I'm going to do the lamest thing ever. I brought my crock pot, empty as the day I bought it, and I'm going to leave here and stop at a restaurant and buy quarts of soup. I will pour it into my crock pot on the way over there and haul that baby in like I made it. Yes I will. I'm going to lie my ass off about it, too. That's right...lie to the Lutherans! LIE!

Alex knows the truth of course and thinks this is hilarious.
So which is more pathetic? My excitement over my 8th grade trip when I'm almost 36 or buying soup and passing it off as my own. It's pretty much a toss up at this point.

Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like...

Dame Helen Mirren?

Seriously - the woman is old enough to be my mother - quite literally, but did you SEE her at the Oscars? I want to be her. Right now. RIGHT.NOW. Even Kev-head was all in a tizzy about her calling her "the ultimate MILF." Move over Stifler's Mother, you have been replaced. It would take a team of hairdressers and make-up artists to get me to look half this good and I'm half her age! And I can't even TALK about the lifting it would take to get my chest to look anything close to that good in that dress. I secretly hate you Helen Mirren! No ... I love you... call me...

For those of you who don't know, I am a red carpet junkie. Award shows are my crack cocaine, and once the first of the year hits, I am in heaven straight through the Oscars. Globes, SAGs, Grammy's, Oscars...it's all a little slice of heaven.

But this year sucked ass. Why? Because there was an ice storm kiddies. And when you live in the boonies in an ice storm, no one cares that you don't have power for 24 hours. No.one.cares. And then you get power for like 30 minutes - and WHAM! right back out in the middle of your wash cycle. That sucks. It sucks even more when your generator keeps blowing fuses because you're loading it up with too much stuff, like I don't know...HEAT. And then the damn HDDVR takes 10 minutes to load. So I missed the Dreamgirls songs, I missed the shadowy acrobats forming themselves into a stiletto and I missed some critically boring awards that no one cares about. But I did see my favorite parts - the red carpet, the opening monologue (Ellen was very good this year), a bit with Al Gore (Al, I miss you and Tipper, too with her hyperbolic sensitivity to 'inappropriate music') and better yet, the song with Jack Black, Will Ferrell, and that other guy that most of you don't know, John C. Reilly. And guess how they ended their song? Foaming at the mouth over Helen friggin' Mirren.

And someone needs to get Cameron Diaz professional help - not mental - she needs a professional hairdresser. Please. Enough with the shaggy half up half down mussed up do. It's what I do about 2pm everyday here at work when I'm in the weeds. It's not a good look for me. It's not a good look on NATIONAL FUCKING TELEVISION WITH A BILLION PEOPLE WATCHING. Comb that shit, sweep it up and get it together.

So didja watch? Didja? It's okay to admit it here...it's a safe place...I'm an addict, too. Who did YOU like?

Team Carol ...

So whether you know it or not, you've all been recruited. And there were no embarrassing tryouts! You didn't have to audition, meet an age requirement or fill out an application. Your presence on this blog is enough.

I mentioned earlier about my Aunt Carol having surgery. Well, the follow up to that surgery is the dreaded C-word....and I don't mean c u next tuesday, either... we're talkin' chemo here folks. I know some of you for sure have had experience with loved ones going through this and it sucks. Sucks like the Cubs. Worse than that. Sucks like them not having your size in a shoe sale. Probably even worse than that.

I know I can make a little light of the situation because I've been talking to Carol every day and so far she's in good spirits. Everyone say HI CAROL!! She cut off her hair in prep for losing it, which the doc says is inevitable. The bonus round? She doesn't have to shave her legs for 18 weeks. Now THAT sounds like a little bit of heaven, eh pregnant friends and friends with overly large muffin tops? (i.e. me...) ... not having to bend in the shower to shave your legs???

So I go to Pittsburgh next week to see what there is to do. Maybe she'll need my help, maybe she won't. Maybe I'll just be there for entertainment. She wants me to figure out how to spike her hair. She's making friends at chemo...she told me today she's going to try and be like me while she's there and meet people. Might as well use the time to your advantage, treatment can take 5-6 hours.

By fabulous beach vacation my girl should be rocking the coolest short-do ever and I'll be jealous.

So now you're all a part of Team Carol. Think good thoughts, pray if it's your thing, if you know about people who have been through this and have suggestions to combat side effects or whatever, offer it up. It takes a village - or a blog community - or all of it to get through the rough spots.

I actually caught a bit of a radio-evangelist yesterday while on my way to Indy. Jul would say it's the universe trying to tell me something. I think she's probably right. He said "Stop trying to control the boat and ride the waves." So that's where we are, as a family right now, riding the waves. I just want to know if the boat has a food and beverage program.

Love you Carol....

My audience...

So now I see - it's all coming together. I blog about stuff that meets with little to no response for DAYS and now I blog about pills and booze and suddenly WHAM! You all have something to say.

Well at least I know what my target audience is, ya bunch a drunk pill popping freaks! I love each and every last one of your lush asses.

Last night I took a cooking class with the Pea and her man, Susan-the-lurker, and my girlfriend Cathy, who is not the leader of the la leche league who posts hear every now and again and lurks all the time. The class? Knife skills. My husband should be afraid, be very afraid. We got lectured on knife care - dishwasher is a BIG no. Which I guess I've always known...it just doesn't seem like you should put large knives in there. And knowing good knives from bad knives, and cutting boards, yes cutting boards.

Now I've always been a wood girl, myself (insert your own jokes here). I grew up cutting on a butcher's block and have always loved it. Then some yahoo came out and said that we're all going to die miserable salmonella deaths if we continue to cut chicken on wood - so I added a plastic cutting board to the mix. It's a lie folks - A LIE - spawned from the same conspiracy that tries to tell us that eggs cause cancer and red meat is bad for you and cigarettes are addictive on purpose. What? That last one is true? Damn you Philip Morris!!!!

Basically wood heals. You cut chicken on wood and eventually the wood kind of fills itself in. Plastic heals not. That cut will stay there - just as deep, just as bacteria holding as the day you cut it. Ewwwwww, bacteria. So really you should always cut on wood - clean it in soapy water and let it air dry.

Okay, so this is now Friday and I think I started this yesterday, and I have no idea how to finish these thoughts...posting anyway...

Jeez - we're not...pill poppers!

Actual words spoken by JBrave. And it's true. I'm not. I hate taking pills...even when I'm supposed to.

So after the waterfall extravaganza (no, I didn't take pictures - and I'm totally wishing I had. I was too stunned to do anything like that.) I was pushing water out of the garage and taking everything out of that closet under the stairs and needless to say, my shoulder and my back ... ugh... a mess. PAIN my friends with a capital p and that rhymes with b and that stands for BOOZE. Yes indeedy. I needed some booze. Did I drink any? No. Not that night. I was too tired. Actually I think Kev-head and I each had about half a glass of Bob...but nothing significant.

Well by Saturday it was like the day after a car accident. You know - the day you REALLY feel it when you've done something stupid. Like hit a telephone pole, or rammed your four-wheeler into a tree...or in Kev-head's case, try to prove that you can still do a backwards somersault. Yeah, that's right, you heard me. Backwards.somersault. OMG - I almost peed my pants last weekend. The sight of my hubby with his legs in the air pushing with all his might. Now some of you might think that's a typical Saturday night at the Crumerosa...you'd be wrong. In my case the stupidity was moving all that shit. Kevin says it's because I don't delegate well. I say it's because I'M ALMOST 36 AND HORRIBLY OUT OF SHAPE. Nah...really? Muffin top you say? Just how big are they making muffins these days? Well lemme tell ya...

So Saturday I tell Jul that I'm not sure if I want to go home and open a bottle of red and drink the whole thing OR take a muscle relaxer and a vicodin and go to bed - I was HURTING. Not only that but I needed to numb my own embarrassment and frustration at being THAT SORE over some boxes (well, they were heavy) and some water (it was cold in that garage). Her response? *GASP* Rebecca - we're not...pill poppers! Go home and open that wine!

Halfway through the bottle I realized the wisdom of my friend. I put myself on a heating pad, climbed onto my tempur-pedic mattress (it's developed by NASA!) with my glass of red and fell to sleep watching TV. How's that for a rockin' Saturday night? At least I'm no pill popper.

We put the old in cold...

Well well well...it was cold on Friday. COLD people. So cold, in fact, that we had a pipe burst in the garage. "It is his love, it his his passion..." It is his fault he didn't lock the garage....

So yeah, here's me...coming home with the kids. The Kev-head is out at a bachelor party. Whoo-hoo, partay! We went out for pizza. MMMMMMmm...pizza. I opened the garage door and in a flash - huh - why is there water on my garage floor? That is a LOT of water on my garage floor. There's usually only that much water on my garage floor AFTER my car is in it. I wonder...OH MY GOD LOOK AT ALL OF THAT WATER STREAMING FROM THAT PIPE! A waterfall is what it was and who knows how long it had been going on. I called the Kev-head who luckily picked up and told me how to kill the water to the house. Needless to say, he had to leave the partay - and before the "entertainment" arrived. When he got home he said he had a bunch of "singles he didn't get to use" - okay Mr. Funnyman - grab a squeegee and shut your pie-hole - you're not using them on me.

Yes the water got into the house, too - the closet under the stairs? Trashed. Seriously - like I could splash in puddles in there. That carpet? We just ripped it out babies. No use in trying to save it. I mean seriously - dark, damp closet with a house full of asthmatics? That's what I need - a mold problem all over my Christmas decorations.

The rest of the weekend wasn't bad after that. Where else could it go from there??

Ahhhhh Valentine's Day - the holiday for love...

Views differ on Valentine's Day and the need to celebrate it.

View #1: It's a Hallmark holiday - I don't have to do anything.
View #2: I love Valentine's Day! I'm buying a red dress and red shoes and a fun card for my significant other. I'm going to get candy and flowers and get a fancy hotel room for great sex!
View #3: Oh shit, it's Valentine's Day???
View #4: I hate this fucking holiday. Yet another reminder that I'm alone and relationships suck!
View #5: I'll celebrate it, but I really don't know what to do, or what to buy.

Where do you fall?
View #1 has been repeated to me time and time again, usually by married people. If the person is a married woman, she says it because she knows her husband won't do anything, and she'll be disappointed, so she's resigned herself to her fateful lack of romance in her relationship. If the person is a married man, that's just an excuse because he's too lazy, for ONE DAY in the fucking year to step up to the plate and acknowledge and honor his relationship with his spouse. Probably married to the woman making the same comment. Seriously - guys - is it that hard? Is it truly THAT HARD? Buy a card, say I love you, buy one flower at the drugstore on your way home. Ask about her day - Hallmark doesn't have to have anything to do with it if you don't want it to. These same men probably forget their anniversaries and don't buy their wives anything for their birthdays. Pa-thetic.

View #2 - only said by people who are dating. By the second Valentine's Day together with their boyfriend/girlfriend, they probably fall into one of the other categories.

View #3 - single men.

View #4 - single women.

View #5 - Everyone else.

The Kev-head is a romantic at heart. And sometimes he can really surprise me. Yesterday we decided to come home after work, have a nice dinner with the kids and chill out. He did buy me a card, and had the kids make cards for me, too. That was nice. They cleaned the kitchen before I got home, too, so I could cook dinner. This was very nice. We had mimosas while I was cooking dinner, and then while dinner was in the oven we all went into the living room for "cocktail hour." I'm trying to bring this tradition back. Just some time set aside for us to all be in one place, no TV, no phone - just us - chatting about whatever. It was nice. We had dinner together, the boys got their little goody bags of Valentine's candy.

For those of you sharing view #5, I found a how-to for celebrating a meaningful Valentine's Day. If you have a spouse sharing view #1 - print this and leave it out - once a week until next year.

I have this friend...

So I know most people start stories with "I have this friend..." and they are really talking about themselves in some horribly obvious way. But I assure you, I am not talking about me. Really. I'm not.

I have this friend, and she's pregnant. See...told you it wasn't about me. While I'm a veritable playground for conception given my estrogen levels, I am not pregnant. So this friend, she has a big decision to make. Her baby is due on April 25th. But due to reasons I won't go into, she has to schedule her baby's due date. So here's the dilemma...

If she schedules this BEFORE April 21st, she is changing the baby's birth sign. I know I'm tied to my astrological sign. I'm an Aries through and through - and I love being an Aries. 12 o'clock on the zodiac clock, baby - the king of the astrological signs...actually the ram of the astrological signs. So what if she does change this baby's birth date??? What does that mean? Will the baby be a closeted Aries in Taurus clothing? She can't pick the 20th - we just found out this is Hitler's birthday and I completely disallow this.

She can wait until the 23rd, which is still Taurus territory, and then maybe, just maybe the baby chooses to be an Aries, but that takes the whole "scheduled" part out, and that's not great either. What if the baby chooses the 20th??? I think the baby is probably already smarter than that. The 23rd is Shakespeare's birthday, so that sounds pretty good.

For those of you (I'm lookin' at YOU, Jimmer) who think that she's thinking about this way too much - you can suck it. This is a big deal...HUGE...or I wouldn't be bringing it to the blog.

What are your thoughts? Have a preference on a date?

OH!!! AND HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY...I guess this is truly a holiday for "lover" (read "lovahs") and not us old married folk, or it would have been the subject of the blog today...maybe I'll rant about that tomorrow. But I love you all - seriously - like I would marry you.

The Grammy's - what a let down...

Okay -so you're kidding me, right? Did anyone watch the Grammy's last night?? Lemme get this straight - The Police...THE POLICE are back together for the first time in forever, and they get one song. ONE SONG? And while Roxanne is great and probably their most well-known song, it's not even close to their best and THAT's how they open the Grammy's??? ONE SONG? And I have to listen to not 1, not 2, not 3 but FOUR songs by Rascal Flatts and Carrie Underwood saluting a country artist whose name is escaping me and Don Henley of the Eagles. Now I love Don Henley as much as the next guy - but seriously? 3 Eagles songs PERFORMED BY SOMEONE ELSE and ONE Police reunion song? Seriously?

And where were the great duets/group sings that the Grammy's are known for? They had the singer/songwriter set , which was really just the 3 artists playing their own deal with the others bringing in the occasional harmony. And John Mayer makes me throw up in my mouth a little - I just can't stand him - sorry to his fans. It's that muppet-like thing he does with his tongue and that half-lisp half-whisper singing style. I just can't do it. Boy can play, though - and his lyrics are great. John Legend, however, could sing me the phone book and I would swoon.

How much plastic is involved in keeping Smoky Robinson's face together, exactly? I love the man, I do, and he sounded good - but I've owned baby dolls in my youth whose faces were softer.

How do I love the Dixie Chicks, let me count the ways. I think they won every category they were in - so take that Reba! I know she was just loving every minute of her introduction about "honoring Texans" in music - don't even get me STARTED on that one. And then she gets a big kick in the ass when her honoree comes out and declares his love for the Chicks. AWESOME. I though Natalie could have been a little less dramatic - the fact that they were winning everything was statement enough.

And then? THEN I was completely underwhelmed by the Chili Peppers...I know the new album is supposed to be brilliant, but it's the GRAMMY'S, and no matter how much Flea jumps around, it's not going to make that song a show stopper.

How is your Monday? Snow is a comin' for those of us south of the river...

Top 100 in no particular order...

So in keeping with the music theme, I've comprised over several days a list of my Top 100 songs of all time. I may have missed some, so feel free to contribute. This was really tough for me, as I love so much music from so many different eras. I toiled, edited, removed and replaced several songs, but I think this is pretty good. If you don't know them, shame on you - go out to iTunes and give them a listen, and then immediately download them.

In no particular order...
1. Let's Stay Together - Al Green
2. Dr. Feelgood - Aretha Franklin
3. Solitude - Billie Holiday
4. Use Me - Bill Withers
5. Where is the Love - Black Eyed Peas
6. Could you Be Loved - Bob Marley
7. More - Bobby Daren
8. Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi
9. It's not Unusual - Tom Jones
10. I Can't Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt
11. Ain't Nobody OR Tell Me Something Good - Chaka Khan
12. Low - Cracker
13. Just Like Heaven - The Cure
14. We Just Disagree - Dave Mason
15. Tempted - Squeeze
16. Try a Little Tenderness - Otis Redding
17. Son of a Preacher Man - Dusty Springfield
18. She Talks to Angels - Black Crowes
19. Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters - Elton John
20. My Name Is - Slim Shady
21. Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac
22. Stand Back - Stevie Nicks
23. Pink Houses - John Mellencamp
24. Sugar Magnolia - Grateful Dead
25. American Idiot - Green Day
26. She's Gone - Hall & Oates
27. Sara Smile - Hall & Oates
28. Problem Girl - Rob Thomas
29. Bright Lights - Matchbox 20
30. Head over Feet - Alanis Morrissette
31. Blackbird - The Beatles
32. She's Got a Way - Billy Joel
33. A Day in the Life - The Beatles
34. Fool in the Rain - Led Zeppelin
35. Ramble On - Led Zeppelin
36. Don't Speak - No Doubt
37. Dance to the Music - Sly and the Family Stone
38. What it Takes - Aerosmith
39. Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
40. Black - Pearl Jam
41. Southern Cross - CSNY
42. Somebody to Love - Queen
43. Hold on, I'm Comin - Sam and Dave
44. Shelter Me - Ray LaMontagne
45. In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel
46. In Your Eyes - Jeffrey Gaines
47. Cry Love - John Hiatt
48. The Tighten Up - Archie Bell & the Drells
49. Rock me Right - Susan Tedeschi
50. Hurt So Bad - Susan Tedeschi
51. Crazy - Seal
52. At Last - Etta James
53. Bad Love - Eric Clapton
54. Sunshine of your Love - Cream
55. Lover Lay Down - Dave Matthews Band
56. Crash - Dave Matthews Band
57. Against All Odds - Phil Collins
58. Maybe - Janis Joplin
59. Control - Puddle of Mudd
60. Chain of Fools - Aretha Franklin
61. Far Behind - Candlebox
62. Hemorrhage - Fuel
63. The Reflex - Duran Duran
64. White Lines - Duran Duran
65. I Am I Said - Neil Diamond
66. Cherry Cherry - Neil Diamond
67. Overlap - Ani DiFranco
68. It's Probably Me - Sting
69. Message in a Bottle - The Police
70. Do What you Want - OK Go
71. Don't Stop Til You Get Enough - Michael Jackson
72. ABC - The Jackson Five
73. Like the Way I Do - Melissa Etheridge
74. I'm the Only One - Melissa Etheridge
75. Ray of Light - Madonna
76. Like a Prayer - Madonna
77. Somebody Told Me - The Killers
78. Ordinary People - John Legend
79. A Song For You - Leon Russell
80. The Letter - Joe Cocker
81. You Can't Always Get What You Want - Rolling Stones
82. Gimme Shelter - Rolling Stones
83. Been Caught Stealing - Jane's Addiction
84. Sex Machine - James Brown
85. The Wood Song - Indigo Girls
86. Changes - David Bowie
87. Romeo & Juliet - Mark Knopfler/Indigo Girls
88. All that we let in - Indigo Girls
89. Jump Around - House of Pain
90. In my Life - John Lennon
91. Maybe I'm Amazed - Paul McCartney
92. I Wish - Stevie Wonder
93. Proud Mary - Creedence Clearwater Revival/Ike & Tina Turner
94. Dark Side of the Moon - the entire album - played in its entirety it's genius.
95. Back on the Chain Gang - The Pretenders
96. Baby I'm a Star - Prince
97. Purple Rain - Prince
98. One Way Out - The Allman Brothers
99. The Story in Your Eyes- The Moody Blues
100. Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash

Well, there it is...for what it's worth. Do you agree? Disagree? See a glaring omission? Get on the record books now! There are some country songs I thought of putting on there - He Stopped Loving Her Today is one...Van Morrison was put on the list and removed several times, as was Cat Stevens, Emerson Lake and Palmer and Yes.

DJ - play me something new...

This blog started about music, and I realize that it's been awhile since I actually discussed music. What a shame, because it's something I love...it motivates me...makes me happy...takes me places, in time, in space...

Too philosophical this morning...yeah, I thought so, too.

Through another blog I found this band on myspace (which I adamantly oppose, btw, as it robs people of any logic, but it seems you can't listen to anything new anywhere else.)...check out Ultraviolet. I think it's what Gwen Stefani would be doing if she cared at all about being relevant and not some pop sensation sampling the soundtrack of the fucking Sound of Music. Seriously? Seriously, Gwen, you went from being a cutting edge ska/pop diva holding up a middle finger to all things in the social norm, and now you're trying to be some white girl rapper dressed like harajuku? I was a huge No Doubt fan, and this? No. But Ultraviolet, I love these guys...and they're unsigned. Check out the track Dead on the Dancefloor. These guys are like Devo meets PJ Harvey meets KC and the Sunshine Band. If I was a club kid - this would be my jam. (Where are my glow sticks???)

I listen to XRT a lot - yesterday on the ride home they were really busting out the tunes...the new Patty Griffin sounded really good.

Are you watching Idol??? One of the supposed 12 male finalists is Chris Sligh...he was that guy with the crazy fro who sounded like the white Hootie. He's got two bands out on myspace - they're okay. Basically everything like every band you ever heard in college (including my ex-husband's band) - but his vocals are killer and that's what should get him far. With his attitude I can see him sticking this thing out for the long haul. He's my pick to win it.

My girl Gina Glocksen out of a chick rock band here in Chicago is back in it - and according to some spoilers, makes it to the top 24. I loved this girl last year and thought they made a mistake when they tossed her out of Hollywood. I know most of you are shaking your heads and saying "how does she remember this shit?" I don't know, I just do. I really liked her last year, so she sticks in my head. I thought I saw a blip of her running down the hall with a golden ticket and thought "hey, that looks like Gina from last season!" I thought they might have slipped in old footage for filler, but sure enough, it's her. Hooray! A non-blond girl might have a fighting chance this year.

How many more blond hair country girls are they going to pick and say "I like you, you're different." Different than who? The other 52 artists who are already IN country music and are singing through their nose just like them? I'm looking at you Kelly Pickler, Faith Hill...Bailey whats-her-name from last night.

I'm glad the stupid auditions are over - we're looking at the best of the best and the worst of the worst tonight. I'll be glad when we're in Hollywood. What are you listening to? Anything good? Anything new?

Living my dream...

I had a dream...I did...so very long ago. And recently I was talking with a friend who is living my dream. Yes...it's true...he's....he's....buying things from infomercials.

When I was a little girl, I wanted the bedazzler, the ginsu knives (they could cut cans and then cut a tomato!), I wanted the beads you put in your hair, and even the knitting machine. I would wait for these commercials on Saturday mornings and write down the addresses as fast as I could on my large lined paper with the chunks of wood still in it. I swore I was going to save my allowance money and purchase these must-have items. I could doll-up my old blue jeans AND help mom in the kitchen while looking at my chia pet in the window.

It was such a wonderful world - the world where I ordered everything I saw in the infomercials. But that world was never to be. I never made myself that one of a kind stocking cap. *sigh*

And now, I'm still just as bad...many a time I have picked up the phone...and almost ordered
The One Sweep - they were offering 2-for-1 if I called in the next 10 minutes!
The Eggstractor - haven't you ever fought with hard-boiled egg shells and LOST??? No more!
The Pasta Pro!! - I love this pot - it's genius! I have peeled off layers of skin draining pasta incorrectly with the lid of a pan.

But mostly, mostly I want the magic bullet. And he has one. I've seen these in the store. They cost like $60. Now, as with my dilemma of my youth...how do I justify $60 on a food processor, blender, electric juicer and coffee grinder that occupies only the space of a coffee mug? Even if it stays handy on your countertop for instant meals and snacks, I just can't do it.

I've almost ordered all of these things, and yet I haven't...but I'll drop money like it's hot on countless bottles of wine. Huh. What does this say about me?

The worst part about this person who owns the beloved bullet - yeah, it's still in the box. BLASPHEMY! That's some sort of heresy against the infomercial gods, I'm sure. Oh the smoothies I could be making...the marguaritas...the salsa...oh the salsa.

He owns the laser level, too. Oh the agony!

So why DON'T I buy these things? I have the money - I could if I wanted to. Maybe I'm afraid. Maybe I'm afraid that if I start buying the infomercial products it will become like crack cocaine for me. And then I'll be that girl maxing her credit card out on QVC giving my kids obsolete coins, fake jewelry and bathroom butlers...living with my cats. Hmmmm, I already have a lot of cats. Clearly I can't start shopping QVC....but do they have shoes? Maybe just a peek...

Blame it on the rain

that was fallin fallin
Blame it on the stars
that did shine at night....

Well, well, well...there had to be a winner, and there had to be a loser...and in the end, it pretty much went how I expected. In the end, Rex delivered exactly what he had delivered all season, an inconsistent turnover-filled mess. And not that Peyton and the Colts didn't have their fair share of whoopsies (I'm looking at you Vinatieri!), they just seemed to have the poise under pressure. If the Bears had been up at the half, they might have had a fighting chance, they sure came out of the gate looking good. But they just didn't have the stamina to make it.

It was a fun Superbowl party, the kids were entertaining. Some were cheering for the Colts, some for the Bears.

I do have one complaint. The commercials. They were not as good as they have been in years past. I thought Sierra Mist had some good things - Jim Gaffigan was, of course, hilarious. But a lot of the commercials I'd seen before, and they weren't impressive. A lot more advertisements for upcoming shows. A lot more drug commercials - I don't remember seeing drug commercials in the past. Just overall disappointing. I can remember coming to work in years past and watching the Superbowl commercials on the web and laughing my ass off. This year I can't think of a single one that I feel the need to run right out and view. (Except the Jim Gaffigan beard combover - that's good stuff right there) What are you doing Superbowl ad people???

Prince totally brought it. I thought he was fantastic, even in the Purple Rain.

Hubby got soaked, but had a good time, I believe. And now the excitement is over and it's back to life as we know it.

Go team!

I am not going to start a firestorm of controversy over the Superbowl - but I am pulling for the Colts. I think I've made it very clear that I'm Steelers fan tried and true...this year I love both teams and will be happy with whoever wins. But deep down, I'm more a Colts fan. Please don't disown me, Bears fans...can't we all just get along?

My original plan was to have a Superbowl party - like I did last year when my beloved Steelers earned "one for the thumb." But then...then my husband, whom I hate, was offered a trip to the game, and so he is right now sitting in an airport in Dulles awaiting his connecting flight to Miami. The bastard. I mean seriously. SERIOUSLY? He's going to the f-ing SUPERBOWL. THE game ... the big show. It's almost grounds for divorce.

So now my Superbowl party is down to me and Chris and Hayden and Alex and Owen because Julie has a photo conference in Indy. WHAT? Who schedules CLASSES on Superbowl Sunday? Photo people, that's who.

But then Chris couldn't get the day off of work on Monday, and neither can Julie, so now they are not coming.

That leaves me and Alex and Owen. And Alex doesn't watch football.
So that leaves me and Owen. Hmmmmm, not exactly a party, though Owen and I have been known to scream loud enough for several people. Shocking, I know.

Now there's a decent chance my Roselawn wife and her family will be coming over...so at least that's two more adults...but 3 more kids!!! So we're still outnumbered. I told Owen he could invite some friends over, so now it's a kids party. I guess I should look at the bright side. It will be a much cheaper event. I won't need nearly as much beer. The kids usually only drink one or two and then they're done.

CHICK-CHICK-BOOM! (MRA3=DORK)

But seriously folks. I love the Superbowl...and Prince is playing halftime. Love him or hate him - he's talented and will put on a good show. He wowed the press with a mini-concert. He's definitely got the catalog to pull from - but I doubt he'll be pulling out Sexy Mother Fucker...which is a bit of a disappointment for us all.

GO TEAM!

If I only had a brain...

So I mentioned that placement exam Alex had to take to get in to high school - to see first of all if he met their requirements for attendance and second of all where he falls in their grand scheme of things. Remember how I said he was cool as a cucumber?

We got the scores back last week - we were very pleased. He's scoring at an 11.4 grade equivalent in math, 11.5 grade equivalent in reading. I've always known he's a bright kid, and like I said...he doesn't buckle under the pressure like his mother. He only missed 2 problems in the entire math section. Brilliant. But the best was yet to come.

Yesterday we got a letter. Alex performed so well on this exam that he's in the top 11 - top 11 test scores out of 202. He got a scholarship! He was beaming. Alex is a quiet kid - keeps to himself - mostly the "don't look at me" attitude. He likes to stay in the background. But last night - last night was all about him and he knew it. He knew it and he loved it. It was fun to see him so puffed up. We called his dad, grandparents...and each time I had him read the letter over the phone. It was really great. I'm relieved because now I feel really confident in him going there.

And now for the Owen. Owen is heartbroken. He was chosen from his class to participate in the school spelling bee. He studied...and studied...and in the end the word they gave him wasn't on the list. I tried to explain to him that the list wasn't about memorization...it was about learning how words are formed so you can know how to spell anything. I explained that he didn't waste his time - that he still walked away knowing more words than the other kids who didn't get picked. I even tried the old "you should just be proud you got picked" speech. Nothing doing. It leveled him. What do I say now?

This morning I left my cell phone at home. Shocking, I know. So Kev-head was trying to call me...and the phone was ringing and ringing. Owen saw it sitting there. So he promptly picked up the house phone to call me and tell me I left my phone at home. The problem...he called my CELL PHONE to tell me I left my cell phone at home. Realizing his mistake he called Kev-head and told him. Hilarious.

So my house is literally the "wide world of sports" - we have the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. How are you guys?

Think good thoughts...

Avid blog reader and my beloved Aunt Carol is in Pittsburgh today recovering from surgery. She is the Janet's sister and I love her like she's my mom.

Please send good thoughts to the East that she'll be back and reading along with us soon...

It's an interesting question...

I'm not sure how Julie and I got on the subject of our children swearing ...oh wait...now I remember...to tell you that story, I have to tell you this one.

Sunday night erupted into family game night. Owen was desperately wanting to play spoons, and play we did. Kevin and Alex didn't know how to play. What kind of childhood did they have? Oh wait...Alex is still in his childhood and wait a second...I'M his mother. What kind of mother am I that my 14-year-old has never played spoons. Hmmm...I should have a talk with myself about that.

After several games - we switched up to Uno. I still love Uno. It's easy, it's fun...and there's nothing more satisfying for a 9-year-old boy than telling his dad to Draw 4. It's quite empowering. So empowering, in fact, that Owen felt the need to ask us for the upteenth millionth time if he could say the word "crap." My husband has been very clear on this - no. NO. Yes - we talk like truck drivers, both of us, but the boys do not. Do not, will not, have not, to my knowledge. Well, there was that one incident with Al getting halfway to the barn, realized he forgot the keys, stopped, muttered "shit" and turned around. I just so happened to be standing in the living room and the windows were open. I stuck my head out and said "What was that you said there Alex?" - Blank stare - fearful expression - I've never heard it out of his mouth again.

So now we're playing Uno and discussing whether or not Owen can say crap. He currently says crud. A lot. But he did get in trouble in school the other day for saying "what the freak?" when a girl moved his chair out from under him. Whoops. So we finally agree that Owen can now, at long last, say the word crap. Which he does. All night long. In fact, we all sat around using sentences that could involve that word ... "don't change colors or I'll kick the _______ out of you." And we'd leave the blank and let Owen fill in the word...which he did - quite happily. It was very funny.

Then we moved on to "Pit" - no one had ever played this before. I just bought it at Navy Pier and was dying to play. Owen had decided that instead of trying to win, he was just going to try to keep us from winning. And by "us" I mean "Kevin." That made it even funnier. But here's the best part. The hand ends...Alex had won...and Owen looks up sheepishly at Kevin
"You were trying for Oranges, weren't you."
"YES!!" Kevin screams...did you have the one I needed??"
"Heh-heh - yeah - I kept it over here and didn't trade it, just to see if I could screw you."

Ummmm, what? Whodawa? Okay, so we just had to have a 30 minute conversation about whether or not he can say CRAP and now he's talking about screwing someone out of their card. It was brilliant. I don't think I've laughed that hard in awhile. So we removed the word "screw" from his vocabulary - and he promptly replaced it with "crap" - "I'm going to try and crap dad out of winning" - "I totally crapped you Alex!"

He was satisified until I let Alex use the word jack ass when telling a story. Yes, he asked first.

So back to the original story...Julie is perplexed. I talk like a truck driver, and yet - my kids never have. Never. Ever. I've never had that embarrassing F-bomb dropped in pre-school. Never had them call someone an inappropriate name in Sunday school. Why is that? Because Jul feels like she's really nipped her potty mouth in the bud - and yet Hayden drops the G-D word when he can't get his snowman built the way he wants to. Hilarious.

I wasn't THAT upset...

No...my feelings are THAT hurt...that's not the reason I wasn't blogging. Home with a sick Owen on Tuesday, home in the morning with him on Weds - and then actually busy as a bee here...I did some super-cool geek stuff that I won't bore you with (no need to thank me).

So....what to blog about today?

First - dinner at Ditka's was yummy, or if I'm channeling Rachel Ray, yummo. Apps were good, wine list is good, steak was great, dessert was huge (we shared) - company was good...the check was large. Just the way I like it.

The play/musical was good. My Kevin didn't really like it, but I think K-2 and his wife did. After that we stumbled into Cru...a fantastic little wine bar. We picked up a flight of chardonnay and found a couple that we really like. Actually, I liked all 3. I know this is shocking. Had I not been completely stuffed from dinner, I would have tried one of their cheese flights...oh who am I kidding. I wasn't too full! I just didn't want to be the only one EATING. HA! Truth is, I could have still eaten half their menu! Seriously, check them out, there's good stuff there. It's CHEESE for the love...what's not to like?

Okay so everything up there - that was from yesterday. I didn't get to finish my thought because WORK got in the way. I'm starting a new one for today...which you've probably already read and are very confused by me saying this...

I haven't been THIS upset in awhile...

Okay - I'm EXTREMELY upset right now. But let me take time away from my anger embarrassment and fear to talk about this:

It's a Bears/Colts superbowl, baby!! WOW!! People around here have been talking about the possibility of this happening all season - but I didn't think it was REALLY going to happen! So glad we made the decision to hang out with the Julie&Chris&Hayden yesterday for the games. Much more fun when you've got someone to cheer with/groan with/commit an ungodly number of high-fives with/drink with/pop champagne with....yeah, we did all of that. Including the painful high-fives with The Jimmer. That boy can slap some serious palm and that's AFTER burning off his first layer of skin trying to move a hot-hot-hot crock pot full of buffalo chicken dip. Lots of H-man singing "Go Bears, Chicago Bears" - his own adorable version of the fight song. Awesome.

The Colts game nearly broke my heart - halftime was looking pretty bleak. I couldn't even call my girlfriend in NH - I couldn't listen to the gloating. She' s a former Chicagoan turned Pats fan by the hypnotic movement of Tom Brady's ass. That is one powerful ass. So in the end, when I called her after the game ending interception, all she had to say was "Go Bears."

So now that we've got that sports shit out of the way, we have to talk about THIS. This is so embarrassing, so hurtful, I almost can't discuss it. Now I know that I have a deep voice for a girl - kind of dude like - and I'm tall - and I have a "geek" job in a man's world...I get it...GET IT. But this website...this hideous, horrible website...according to facial recognition software...says I look like a dude. a MAN...an Israeli biologist to be exact is my number one celebrity look alike.

Ummm...did you fucking hear me? I look like a 70 year-old man. How's that for a way to start your Monday?? Good morning Rebecca, hey - you look like SHIT today, so much so that you don't even look like a woman. Never mind the 34DD boobs and all that junk in your trunk...

Seriously? Seriously...and the women I DO look like? Rosanna Arquette...and Gro Harlem Brundtland, former prime minister to Norway and someone who looks like she could play on the local college Rugby team...for the MEN...and kick ass. So the women that I do resemble according to facial recognition software all look like MEN or just look horrible. Down the list...Diane Keaton. And not the young, sassy Annie Hall Diane Keaton - the right now, doing age-defying make-up commercials Diane Keaton. So basically, I'm 35 and I resemble all things 60+. No offense to my readers who ARE 60+, love you ALL like I would marry you...but at 35, feeling like I looked okay, this is a blow to the old ego. Apparently I look like the crypt-keeper.

OMG - I just tried another photo - this time, number one hit...Sharon Stone. Great - she's only 15 years OLDER than I am. Well that's just great...just GREAT I say...I need some botox...NOW.

Seriously? Seriously....

So, against my better judgment, Kev-head and the kids and I went to see "Rocky Balboa" the other night. Now I know what you're thinking...Rebecca went to the movies when she's supposed to be cooking dinners and spending more time at home?? Oh, that's not what you were thinking? You were thinking Rocky? Who is spending money to see Rocky??? Well, if you were thinking the first question - this was not my idea. The Kev-head is feeling a little cagey and needed to get out. And I still made dinner at home. It was later than usual, but I did it!! Hooray for me! (I have to celebrate the little things.)

As for the second question, yes - we voluntarily went to see a 60-year-old man climb into the ring against a much younger opponent. Insert all of your favorite geritol jokes here - we did. Alex and I were joking on the way to the show about Rocky trying to run up the stairs with a walker - or beating people in the ring with his cane. We said it all. But I'd heard it was good.

And for once, the critics were right. I loved the Rocky character in Rocky I, II and III (IV was kind of over the top for me and let's not even talk about V) - he was naive, and sweet, and you really wanted him to win. And the same goes in this one kids. It's a good movie - the kids wanted to light themselves on fire - a lot of buildup, not a lot of fighting, not like the other films. But the payoff is worth the wait. Alex said he liked it, Owen, notsomuch. He liked the fighting, though. Sly did everything justice...in fact, if he never did anything ever again, this is how I would want to remember him. With this I can forgive him for "Rhinestone" "Stop or my mom will shoot" and "Judge Dredd" - maybe even "Over the Top".

Laugh at me all you want - I'm riding the Rocky train into the sunset, babies...Kev-head was totally pumped up after seeing it. He answered the phone "Yo, Rebecca" for the next couple of days.

I've always been a huge Rocky fan - and this was a great way to end it. You should go see it - I promise...PROMISE you won't be disappointed.

I'm old and other obvious statements...

This past weekend Alex had to rise and shine early on Saturday morning to go take...his placement exam for high school. HIGH SCHOOL. HIGH SCHOOL. Are you all feeling me here? Do you realize that my son - my baby will be interviewing and then scheduling his classes for his freshman year in high school just 3 weeks from now??? Are you kidding me? Where did the time go? I mean, was it so long ago that I was scheduling my classes for my freshman year of high school??? Okay, yeah, it was...but whatever. He's a bright kid - I wasn't too worried about the exam. He was cool as a cucumber.

His mother, on the other hand, is a notorious test choker - yeah, that's right...I said it. I choke. I know stuff going in, I don't know anything when they say "begin". It's horrible. It's a horrible feeling. I actually almost cried during my RedHat exam - it was pitiful. And I've only been working with RedHat for 5+ years...it's not like it's new to me or anything...and then I took 5 days of class...well...actually 4. My husband sort of interrupted my training with kidney stones...but nevertheless - I should have aced this thing. But I didn't. Grrrrrr.

When he came out of the test I asked him how he felt he did - he said that out of 298 questions there were only a couple he didn't know. Huh. A couple? That's it? The kid didn't look the least bit rattled. You should see me after a test - hair frazzled, lips bitten, red-faced...shaking...he looked like he'd just been hanging out watching a movie for 3+ hours. Calm under pressure. That used to be me, didn't it? When did this anxiety kick in? When did I turn into an examination freakshow? Hmmmmm, examination freakshow would make a pretty good band name.

Anyway...I will let you all know how what the results are. They made him write an essay - what his goals are at Andrean. He said he wrote something about preparing for college, coming out of his shell and improving at soccer. Sounds pretty good to me.

All right all right ...

Now I'm not allowed to talk about estrogen reducing powder? I mean seriously...how offensive is that? It's not like I'm talking in great detail about liposuction...now that would be nasty. Have you seen that procedure? How in the hell do people MOVE after that? Not to mention that icky fat - seen Fight Club?? Eewwwwww...*shudder* I'm sure they could make more than a few bars of soap off of me. Okay, now I'm grossing myself out.

Remember that childhood game...what's grosser than gross? Estrogen reducing powder wouldn't even show up on the top 100 in that game. Although, it does taste pretty nasty, so it very well could. Did any of you play that game? Well, it wasn't really a game. It was just a bunch of us sitting around bringing up the grossest things possible. I can't even remember some of the "old standards" - do you? Please tell me - my brain is broken today. I think I remember something about cheerleaders and class rings...ew...and underwear sticking to walls...I don't know...it was a very long time ago.

UPDATE
I'm feeling better, mostly. Pain is not nearly as bad, though it still comes and goes. Antibiotic is almost over. Today's the last day. I guess I should call the doc and make a follow-up appt. Joy.

Fun stuff - Kevin and I are going to dinner and a show with the other Kevin Crum and his wife. Yes, that's right, you heard me. There are TWO Kev-heads in the world. Sweet Jesus on a pop tart....they're COUSINS. And in some ways they are so much alike it's scary. The other Kevin's wife, Janet, wait...I can't keep calling him "the other Kevin" - there has to be a better way. Hmmmm...K-2? better. K-2's wife asked me last week if my Kevin was as "funny", and I use this term loosely, as K-2. Oh, yeah, I said...hilarious...apparently they're both good for the insipid one-liners and changing song lyrics to something perverse.

I told Janet about Kev-head's standards...like the fact that you can't say "cantaloupe" around my husband - he can't help himself - he has to say "Can't elope tonight, dad's got the car" - and do you know what K-2 did? He laughed - and laughed - and laughed - and I looked at the pain on Janet's face and realized that we understand each other. I had only known her an hour, but there was an unbreakable bond there. It should be a fun evening. We're having dinner at Ditka's and seeing "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" and staying overnight. Good times.

I just need a couple of things...

I am an aisle shopper. It's true. It's horrible and can lead to devastating hits on the checking account. But I mean, sometimes it's good, right? Part of the New Year's resolution list is to have more dinners at home. The side effect of being busy is that we eat on the run a lot. A LOT. It's horrible, and horrible for us. We were a very busy family when I was a kid, but my mom always managed to put good dinners on the table. This was apparently very important to my mother when we were growing up, and she stuck to it. Just another way that the Janet is way more disciplined than I am.

So in an effort to have more dinners/lunches/snacks at home this requires actual food in the house. Friday after work I stopped at the grocery for a couple of items: toilet paper and cranberry juice. A strange combination, yes...but items I felt we needed to get us through the weekend.

Now these grocers are smart people. They hit you with the sale items right up front. This particular grocery pushes so many sale items on you when you first walk in you it makes your head spin. Look! over here! toilet paper on sale! GREAT! And right next to it...CRANBERRY juice. I could have been done right then and there. But then, across the way...canned veggies 10 for $10. Well who can pass that up? And tuna $.50 per can! Hey, the hubby's trying to eat healthy, I should pick that up. And soups! The ad companies are spending a ton of money for me to think that soup will solve all of my weight problems...and the kids LOVE soup. In the cart it goes. And before I can say "paper or plastic" I'm in the produce section and HEY! bag salad is on sale. And I need fruit to make smoothies to choke down that estrogen reducing powder that tastes like ass. And before you know it? I'm in full-fledged grocery shopping mode. Hooray! Food and fresh horses for all my men! I can take on the world! I can prove the theory of relativity!

$229.00 later...yeah, that's right $229. $20 of it was on wine...so that doesn't count, right? So $209. And I didn't even buy any cleaning products, which I desperately need. DESPERATELY. That will require another trip...

But the end result? I made good dinners every night this weekend and good lunches, too. The boys were so excited to see the blueberry waffles they were foaming at the mouth. They hadn't seen them in so long I'm pretty sure they thought that Eggo had stopped making them. We made smoothies every day and had salads for lunch on Sunday. We had snacks for all of the football games and we never had to leave the house. It was BRILLIANT.

It even motivated me to drive the 100 yds to the goodwill store to empty my trunk of the 7 garbage bags overly stuffed with clothes no one wears in my house. They've only been there since November or maybe even longer.

We'll see how long this lasts, but as of right now? I have dinners planned through Saturday, and then a fill in shopping trip planned for Sunday after church. I'm committed. It's a new year, and hopefully, before too long - desperate meals grabbed at Mickey D's will be long gone from my children's minds.

Wish me luck.

I just want to be NORMAL...

I never thought I'd say that. Normal isn't a word that's usually used when it comes to me. Never has been - I've come to terms with it. But now, RIGHT NOW - I'd really like to be ... normal. This is ridiculous. Yes, I've talked about my mismatched frame and my goofy walk, and my disproportioned shoulders and calves - whatever. But having pain from a bladder infection where your bladder isn't? That's just creepy.

Overall the pain is better. And up until an hour ago - I thought it was gone. I thought the antibiotic is doing it's job and I'll be fine. No more trips to the doc. Well, guess what. It's baaaaaaaack - not as bad as it was, which is good. But still doesn't feel great. argggggh.

So I'll wait it out...finish the script...see what happens. Maybe I just strained something and coincidentally I have a bladder infection. Sounds good, right? Let's go with that.

The waiting is the hardest part....

So Tigger is worried that this is my appendix that's giving me problems. I'm not convinced. Waiting for the results of my bloodwork to see what's going on. The doc doesn't open until 9am ... I think. I just tried calling. No one is there. ugh.

The smart side of my brain says no way it's that. The wishful part of my brain says no way because I can't take any time off for illness. I have Washington, D.C. with Alex, cub scout camp with Owen and fabulous beach vacation, the sequel. No time for foolish appendix concerns.

Do you hear me universe...NO TIME.

I'll let you know if I hear anything exciting. They better have wi-fi in the hospital if that's where I'm going! I'll pack up the laptop just in case. Just imagine the material I'd have in there. Horrible food, horrible smells, general discomfort...that's practically a novel. Brilliant.

So if the "I can put you dead in a ditch if you're 10 minutes late to my house" part of my brain is right - I'm about to lose an organ. But it's a useless organ, so no worries. This is highly unlikely says the smart, rational portion of my brain which is usually only active when combating evil problems here at work.

Think good thoughts for my innards folks.
1:23 p.m. - ETA: White cell count is NORMAL. So now I have pain where I shouldn't for a bladder infection that I didn't even know I had. But the normal count rules out appendicitis, so I'm glad the smart side of my brain didn't let my dead-in-a-ditch-side run to the ER. Hopefully the antibiotic will clear the pain up...

There are worse things I could do...

I know, I know - I haven't been around much lately - sorry for that. I've been busy over here and not feeling well, blah-blah-blah - you don't care, but I'm going to share anyway.

Male readers, beware, I may talk about girl stuff here.

I've been having this mysterious abdominal pain. Down low - like where you're girl parts could be. Mostly I can dismiss it, but sometimes it gets really bad, and now it's bad and in my back, too. So I went in and talked to the doc. After a quick pee in a cup, I apparently have some white cells where they shouldn't be, indicative of a bladder infection. Great - but the pain I'm having isn't anywhere near my bladder. Whoops. Off I go to have pictures of my internals.

I had been waiting on a gall bladder ultrasound as well - I got on this new high deductible insurance plan, so I wanted to wait until after the 1st of the year so it would all count towards this year. They warm the gel, people - how cool is that? I haven't had an ultrasound since I was pregnant with Owen - cold, cold, evil gel. Not anymore! And now there are shiny pictures of my gall bladder, pancreas, liver WITH sound - yeah that's right...SOUND. You can hear the blood pumping to all of these organs and they record it as part of the ultrasound. Who knew?? I want that as an mp3 so I can use it as my "incoming email" sound. Wouldn't that be fun??

Okay, maybe notsomuch.

Whatever.

I also had my girl parts ultrasounded...can I use that word like that? no? too bad. Ovaries? check. Uterus? check. Overly full bladder from drinking 32 oz. of water on the way to the test? check. And even more sound stuff - the blood vessels light up on the screen - it's like looking through those heat seeking cameras...reds and blues...and then the sound...fun stuff. The tech that took the pics was nice, she pointed out all of my organs. I think that stuff is cool.

Now the question is, how do I get my hands on these? It's not like having a baby where you have the ultrasound and then they print the pics so you can show people. But why? Why can't I have a pic of my pancreas for my purse? Why can't I put my bladder in a photo album and show people? Do you think I can request them? Maybe I should have said something to her. Very disappointing, to walk away and not have any pics to show off. "And here, this one, this is the right side of my liver....oooh, and this one here? This shows the arteries into my ovary."

I had some bloodwork, too. Hopefully it's nothing, just this infection and a course of antibiotics will do the trick. I'm ready to be done with it. It's wiping me out. How are you guys?