Friday, February 29, 2008

Call Me Michele Hussein

Did anyone else hear that idiot Bill Cunningham on NPR the other day? Insisting on referring to Barack Obama as "Barack Hussein Obama", with an emphasis on "Hussein"?

It really chapped me, and with my love of all things moisturizing, that is saying alot. Yes, I am an Obama Sheep, Obamaniac, or whatever derivative you would like to use to describe me, but c'mon. That is a cheap shot, along the lines of the recent "garb-gate".

Anyway, I am also a Hussein Sheep, because I am participating in the Momocrats campaign to show Bill that it's not nice to make fun of people's names, but a name is just a name. A name does NOT make him a terrorist.


In other news:

Hey, I am thinking of moving over to Wordpress. Any thoughts? Anyone been there, done that?

And, I signed up for Weight Watchers. I have no excuse not to. My company will reimburse me 100% once I attend 18 meetings. And it will take way more than 18 meetings to get my ass in any kind of shape. So my meeting vouchers will be in next week, and then I will hit my first meeting. In preparation, I may eat a whole side of beef this weekend.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Oh, Vanna...

I got this from Sharpie. She gets to be a Cervix, and I am Pat Sajack.

You are The Wheel of Fortune

Good fortune and happiness but sometimes a species of
intoxication with success

The Wheel of Fortune is all about big things, luck, change, fortune. Almost always good fortune. You are lucky in all things that you do and happy with the things that come to you. Be careful that success does not go to your head however. Sometimes luck can change.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Hot Guy, Potty Training, Dessert

I have no desire to see his movie, but I would watch Javier Bardem do his taxes. He gives me impure thoughts.

Potty training is a pain in the butt. I am not good at the "accidents" which result from a boy not wanting to interrupt his car playing to go to the bathroom.
How do I stay positive and enthusiastic while scraping poop out of Wiggles underwear?

Here is a great and easy dessert recipe, and in my opionion, the only reason to ever buy a cake mix

Fast, Easy, Lemon Cheesecake Bars

1 box lemon cake mix

1/3 cup vegetable oil

2 eggs

1/3 cup sugar

8 oz. cream cheese

1 lemon

350 oven.

Mix dry cake mix with ONE beaten egg and oil. Mixture will be crumbly. Reserve one cup of mixture, and press the rest in 9x12 pan. Bake for 15 minutes. Cool slightly.

While crust is baking, Mix cream cheese, other egg, sugar, and juice of lemon with hand mixer until fluffy. I also added the zest from the lemon, but I am a lemon freak. Spread cream mixture onto slightly cooled crust. Sprinkle reserved crust mixture crumbs over.

Bake for 15 minutes. Cool. Serve. Refrigerate if you can wait.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Skirt-astic Searches with Jane Austen

A few months ago, Sarah, (who runs frequent and hysterical recaps of her search hits ) asked for suggestions for words she could plant in her blog to see what pulled in the most search hits. I suggested "under my skirt", based on my experience after this otherwise innocent post.

I didnt win. I think something like "Homer Simpson Vagine Tattoo" did. But below, for your reading revulsion, I present to you my own list of recent search hits. Recent, as in within the last 2 weeks. These are the people that are sharing the same airspace with you. Makes me want to scrub with Pine-sol sometimes:

"through my skirt" - Why Southern Women Wear Slips
"under the school skirt" - I am guessing not a pencil...
" up my moms skirt = Ewww!
"under mom's skirt" - See above. Ew.

" up and under skirts"- For the acrobatic types
"under the skirt nylon" - Anything like "Tripping the Light Fantastic"?
"jane austen mug" - Well, at least you didnt want to see under Jane's skirt
"babe legs unde skirt" - For the foreign visitors
"shrinking down my skirt" - I wish
"problems pantyhose up my skirt" - I have found the title for my Autobiography
"under skirt church" - During lent?? Have you no soul??
"babe with big ones" - Here!
"under up all skirts "- An equal opportunity perv.
"flip my skirt" - Tramp
"under the skirts" - We are all the same.
"One two babe" - With or without my skirt?
"pantyhose under my skirt" - You had to search google to find this out?
"gay boys playing with their brothers toys" - How did you slip in here?
"i got two, she my bitch" - My husband.
"moms for boy babe" - May I suggest Dina Lohan?
"up my teachers skirt" - An educated perv.
"babe in kilt" - Shout out to my Scottish friends.
"hairy under the skirt" - For the same sex brides.
"Put down(Frost) under the skirt" - This makes me cold.
"jane austen coffee mug" - I thought she drank tea...?
"skirts slipping down" - talk to the skirt shrinker above.
Happy Skirt Friday!

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

God Bless Craigslist

Last night we bought this leather sofa (But in taupe, and without the surrounding decor. This is the best facsimile I could find online)

From this Olympic Figure Skater. Who could not have been a nicer guy. We even got to see his Olympic torch.

So, what did you do last night?

Monday, February 18, 2008

Back in the Dating Game

Saturday night Tom and I had a date. A SLEEPOVER date. As in, the kids went elsewhere and Tom and I had the night/house/car/morning all to ourselves for the first time in three years.

And I just have one thing toask. What the HELL took us so long?????

It was delicious.

We have been on dates before, but they were quickies. We would put the kids to bed before we left, and be home before eleven. The kids wouldnt even know we were gone. But this time we packed them up and dumped them at my parents house for 20 hours of videos, cookies, snacks and grandparental love.

We had dinner at a hip restaurant. An Asian-fusion kind of place. It was packed, so we sat at the bar and had drinks, like real adults, and then we were so happy there that we decided to eat there at the bar. We ordered lots of wonderful not-kid friendly things, like sushi rolls with names like Angry Tuna and Dragon Fire and enough fresh wasabi to levitate the hair on my head. And then we had another drink before we left and strolled over to a bookstore where we had coffee and browsed and read magazines and did not even one time have to wipe someones nose, put anyone in time-out, or wrestle anyone into a public bathroom stall for the dreaded standing poopy diaper change.

And then we had the house to ourselves. Which can mean a number of things, and we did all of them.

That sound you hear is that of my sister gagging as she read that.

And we skipped church.

But all good things must end and then we couldnt wait to get our hands on the boys yesterday. I buried my head in their neck and inhaled their little boy-puppy smell. I got big, sloppy wet kisses and stories about where they slept and what they watched and ate and played with.

The more they talked the more I realzied how much I missed them while Tom and I were off on our extended "date".

And then we whipped out the calendar to schedule the next one.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Reduced to Lame

So I hit Target this morning for the 50% Valentine's day stuff.

No, no candy. We have sugar coming out of our eyeballs from the haul the kids got yesterday at their Valentine Party, and the years supply of Thin Mints that arrived earlier in the week. I went for the non-edible stuff - the cute kitchen towels, the cookie cutters, the sprinkles and pink jimmies that will still be good next year, the pink bowls. La, la, la.

I grabbed some cute towels and then I see a display similiar to this one:

My kids are all over the Backyardigans and I am psyched when I see Pablo's head among all of the Dora's and Blue's Clues tubes. These will make perfect Potty Training bribes rewards. I search through several trays until I find another Pablo - Score! I want to find one more for my niece, and as I am looking an 8 or 9 year old girl comes over to check the tubes out. She snatches up Dora and Blue, and then checks out what I have. She looks through the trays and then gives me a dirty look and a "Hmmmph!" and flounces off.

Whatever. Why isn't she in school?

I can't find another Backyardigans so I decided to check the third and final V-Day aisle to see if I missed anything. I see Dirty Look girl at the other end of the aisle with her mother (?) and she points to me and announces "That's her! That's the lady who took the last Backyardigans!"

Now I have the full attention of 11 other V-Day bargain shoppers. All of whom are wondering what kind of witch would deprive this bratty, wench dear child of the toys of her choice. I felt my face grow hot and my armpits start to sweat, and the best I could come up with, in the face of this school skipping snot girl and her permed mother was,

"But, I am trying to potty train twins."

Yup. Another Rockstar moment for me. Sigh.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

A Mars Lotion on my Venus Hands

A really nice guy named Pete sent me samples of "Gloves in a Bottle" to review here. I was curious about it because not only am I a fanatical hand washer, I also have naturally dry skin that gets even worse in the winter. Gloves in a Bottle describes itself as a "Shielding Lotion". Instead of working as artifical moisture, as conventional hand creams do, Gloves in a Bottle professes to bind "with, the outer layer of skin creating a protective layer while retaining the natural moisture from within. This makes it the perfect dry skin care product...It does not wash off, but comes off naturally with exfoliated skin cells. Just reapply every four hours for continued protection."

I was really psyched to get the opportunity to sample something for free and write about it. I was sure I was going to love it and have 99 wonderful things to say about it and then other people would see my fabulous reviews and send me boxes of free make-up, shampoo and gadgets to try. Well, lets just say I wont be waiting by the mailbox for the flood of freebies. But it did pay off as a sociological experiment into what motivates me and Tom in our choices in grooming.

I tried it for several days running to see how it compared to my two go-to hand creams - Curel for next to the kitchen sink, and Bath and Body Works Aromatherapy Moisturizing Hand Cream in the bathroom, in my purse and on my desk. Gloves in a Bottle comes in a royal blue bottle and looks like something you would see in a doctors office. The texture is that of a milky lotion, thinner than both Curel and BBW, but also very rapidly absorbed. Within less than a minute my hands are softer and yet dry enough to do anything without a greasy, damp or slippery feel. That is about equal to Curel for me, but much faster than BBW, which tends to feel greasier longer.

Every time I applied it, I waited at least half an hour before washing my hands again. I noticed that my hands got a dry, almost squeakly feel to them between applications, but definitely felt softer and looked moisturized. The feeling did last between hand washings, but never for the entire 4 hours that the product specs describe. Or maybe I am just a handwashing freak. I didn't see that it did much for my cuticles though, which are a problem area for me and one of the reasons I love BBW creme. I was also somewhat turned off by the smell, which reminds me of Elmer's School Glue. I want my hands to smell good, and this product just made me think of second grade art projects.

Feeling really guilty about the big sample bottle Pete sent me and the fact that I wasn't loving the stuff, I asked my husband to try it. His hands get horribly dry in the winter, but he hates anthing that feels greasy or smells "too girly" so he tends to just avoid putting anything on his hands during the day at all. (Sidebar - he will put hand creme on at night, and then put big cotton socks on his hands in an effort to keep the creme on. It is like sleeping with a bear with fluffy white paws.) He loved the stuff. It absorbed quickly, and didn't smell like perfume and he could put it on and forget it. He could see the guys at work using it because it would not make their hands slippery or "stink" (his words).

Which is how we differ in both hand creme selections, and life. Tom puts it on and forgets about it, oblivious to packaging or smell. I want my hand creme to come in a big pump bottle, or a sleek tube, and to smell delicious, and keep smelling delicious. In other words, Tom walks away and forgets and I just keep demanding more and more and more.

Ah well. Thanks Pete for the opportunity to try it, and I recommend it for the men in my life and definitely for workplaces where handwashing is frequent. I, on the other hand, will stick with my creamy, "stinky", girly stuff for now.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Brought To You by the Number 4

Laura tagged me for this meme. For the record, I love meme's. Send more!

The Four Things Meme

Four Jobs I have had:
Salad Bar Girl - lasted one day. Had to mix a vat of chicken salad with my arm.
Clerk in a tampon factory
Waitress at a diner - as glamorous as you can imagine
Techie - You would think I would have a prettier blog. Alas.

4 places I've been:
Vegas, Baby

4 movies I've watched over and over:
Godfather 1 and 2
Gosford Park
Four Weddings and a Funeral
Waking Ned Devine

4 shows I watch:
American Idol
Friday Night Lights
Keeping up with the Kardashians
Antiques Roadshow

4 places I'd rather be right now:
Pottsville PA
Sewickley PA
Rehoboth Beach
Jackie's Living Room

4 favorite things to eat:
Bassets Ice Cream

4 places I've lived:
Washington D.C.
Winston-Salem NC
Rehoboth DE
Wilmington DE

4 things I look forward to this new year:
Easter with my family
Tessa's First Communion
My sister moving back home
Long weekends around the pool this summer with my family

I would like to hear what these four have to say:
Karen at Who's Pete Should I Be Worried
Shelly at Not the Daddy
Sherry at Horkin Ramblings because she needs to write more
Lumpyheads Mom because she has lots of time on her hands this week

Big Thanks, Small Update

Thank you all for your kind words and prayers. Amy is doing fine. She was operated on and is coming home today. She is still in alot of pain, but she is relieved that it wasnt something worse. Her husband managed to get home, through rain sleet and snow, in time to tuck her in last night at the hospital.

On another note, I was such a spaz with all of this going on yesterday that I forgot about a big meeting I had to go to in another town about 20 miles north. I managed to drive there in time to catch the tail end of it, remembering on the way that I was supposed to bring my parents dog home with me last night. I decided I would just have to run back down south after the meeting and get the dog. When I got to the meeting, I locked my keys in my car. Tom had to drive 50 miles in sleet to get to me and unlock the now-frozen-over door, only to have me collapse in a sobbing heap from nerves and stress about my sister. And once I finished explaining to him everything that was happening with Amy, I still had to go get the damn dog.

The payoff though, was this morning as we left. The kids LOVE the dog and E was over saying good bye to her. he was leaning over her cage and I heard him say "Bye Maggie. Dont be scared. No bears in my house."

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Why I don't do the limbo

Today started out as a normal, routine day, then my sister Amy called me, out of breath and near tears. Her husband is out of town on business and she is in tremendous pain and can’t walk, sit or lie down. I encouraged her to go to the hospital, since she definitely doesn’t sound like herself. She is afraid that it will end up being something dumb and they will think she is an alarmist. My sister can be an alarmist, and a wimp about pain, but this is different. I can tell form her voice that this pain is different and scary and foreign.

I hate this. She is several snowy hours away, and I can’t get to her. I want to see her, see her face so I can figure out how worried I should be. I want to do the worrying for her and tell her, my baby sister, that everything will be fine. I want to be able to drive her to the hospital myself, and be there to ask the questions since she is the sweet accommodating one. I am the bossy one, then one who will make sure they see her quickly and give her something for the pain. I don’t know why I think I will make a difference, but I can’t stand not being able to do something.

I finally convince her to go to the hospital, and she agrees, but not until she gets all four kids off to school. She calls me on her way to the hospital and then shortly after she arrives. They took her right back, and think she may have a kidney stone but they are running tests. She asks me to call her husband, because her cell phone keeps cutting off in the hospital, and the last message he got from her was her crying and saying she is on the way to the hospital and doesn’t know why. He is in perhaps the biggest meeting of his life today with the head honchos of his company. She knows he won’t have his cell phone on and she doesn’t want him to worry. She doesn’t want anyone to worry about her.

She calls me again moments later because the test results are back. She is pregnant and it is a tubal pregnancy. She needs emergency surgery. She is already bleeding internally and the pain is getting even worse. She is in shock. Her "baby" is 8 and she had her tubes tied years ago. She had long ago stopped thinking about babies and was content to just spoil mine. She still hasn’t spoken to her husband, and now she knows he will find out what is happening via voicemail. She wants him to know, but she didn’t want it to be that way. She just wishes someone was there with her and as she admits it she starts to cry and my heart rips out of my chest.

As we hastily plot who I need to call for her and what I should tell her kids, an email arrives from my cousin. An uncle is near death and she asks for prayers. When it rains, indeed. I call my other sister to bring her up to speed. We share our frustration at not being able to get to Amy, to do something more than just make phone calls. And then we cry a little over the baby that won’t be. A kidney stone would have been a nuisance. This is more of a loss.

So now I am waiting in limbo by the phone. Waiting for my parents to get to her at the hospital, through a snow storm. Waiting for her husband to get out of his meetings so he has someone to talk to besides a voicemail. Waiting for her kids to let me know they are back in the house safe and sound. Waiting for her to get out of surgery. Waiting for the punchline.

If you are inclined to prayer, could you send a few her way?

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Hello Lover

Wow, that is such a leading title and it has absolutely nada to do with the rest of this post. I just felt like saying it.

I know I am officially old when American Idol makes me cry. Not because I wish I had tried out, but because I can only imagine what it would be like to be the parent of someone who tried out and made it.

And, I gave up yelling for Lent. So far so good, but I might bite my tongue clean off by Easter.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

How Super Tuesday Made Me Cry

I had planned on voting tonight after dinner but we all woke up early this morning so we made it a pre-dawn primary trip.

The polls opened at 7am here. Since I needed to drive across town to vote, then back to drop the boys at daycare and then travel 25 miles to work and arrive by 8am, we had to be there early. I rushed them through their morning routine, explaining that we needed to go vote for Obama and trying to impress upon them how important this was and why. They know who Obama is from the numerous campaign ads and news reports. I also promised donuts if we were fast and everyone stayed together and held hands.

On the trip over, we counted school buses and dump trucks. Then E started moaning that he didn't want to go on the "Boat for Obama" unless Daddy was coming too. J said he just wanted to see Obama and asked me if he was going to go on the bus with us (??). OK, so maybe not-quite-three is a little young to understand exactly how this primary thing works.

We got to the polling place at 6:45am and I was disappointed to see just a few cars. We got in line behind the only other voters, an elderly couple. At 7am sharp, we were ushered into the next room and I presented my ID and got my voting card. The boys came into the booth with me and I explained what I was doing and showed them where the "VOTE" button was and told them they could push it for me when I was done.

The historical significance was not lost on me as I stood there and read the names on the ballot. As I said the other day, I am very moved by the thought that my children will likely grow up never knowing a world where only white guys get to be president.*

I made my selection and the boys pushed the big green vote button to make it offical. Before we left the booth, I thought about all of the other people doing the same thing right then at the same instant that I was. Voting always reinforces for me that my vote is just as important as anyone else's. Me in my comfy mom shoes, with my noisy kids and my sticky mini-van, on equal footing with the likes of Warren Buffet, Nancy Pelosi and Bill Clinton.

But it wasn't until after we walked out of the booth that it really hit me. Somehow, while we were in the booth for our 60 seconds of history, an entire hallway full of people had lined up. As we walked out, they were coming in in droves and we could see the cars streaming into the parking lot. It was all I could do to answer my boys donut-related inquiries as I filled up with what I can only imagine was civic pride at the turnout.

Happy Super Tuesday, whoever you are voting for.

*Yeah, I know it is just a primary, but don't ruin my moment.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Putting it Out There

I am copying this from Swistle, who copied it from a few others. It is a meme of sorts, but I think it is more like Anonymous Therapy. Just write a list of the things you wish you had said but didn't. No backstory or names needed.

(Christine, Amy, Jackie, Points for any you can guess)

1 - You were right, you weren't worthy of being my first. And I have no idea what I was doing with you.

2 - Stop babying him. He is a spoiled, selfish, self-absorbed brat who milks his "issues" for everything he can get.

3 - You copied everything I did, and milked our friendship for everything you could, lied to me because you knew you were a sell-out, and then had the nerve to cry about how much you would miss me.

4 - You can't reject someone who never wanted you in the first place.

5 - You were never good enough for me, but I just didn't know who I was yet.

6 - You, my dear, are just a miserable bitch who will die alone. Stop trying to make yourself feel better by making everyone else look bad.

7 - Laid off from what? I have hardly done any work in a year.

8 - I am the best thing that ever happened to him, so instead of picking me apart, you should be kissing my feet.

9 - You look ridiculous and fat in that, and you need to tone it down. The real you is much better than this. And stop looking at my shoes.

10 - Shut up and get in the car.

11 - I made a huge mistake and I am so lucky you forgave me and stayed friends with me.

12 - No, I dont want 15 kids I have never even met at my wedding.

Aaaaah, much better. Feel free to add your own in the comments. Or do a list and PLEASE link back so I can read yours.