Mixed Nuts

Caught on Tape

2011-03-08T10:00:00.002-05:00

Somebody has clearly forgotten that the security camera is recording and I'm the type of mom that would show your crazy antics to the world.
Silly girl.

Hollywood Recap

2011-03-03T13:11:00.025-05:00

Whew! To say we had a good time in LA would be an understatement. But now I'm home in the chilly Northeast, suffering from what I can only describe as a Time Zone/ Travel hangover. Despite that, I feel compelled to ~~write what I remember before it disappears into a foggy memory~~ share with you, my bloggy buddies, in a picture-laden post. Shocking, right?

Bev got her paparazzi on when we spotted a car full of freaks. 'Cause, you know, we love freaks!

Only after snapping the shot did we realize the car was being driven by Kat Von D.
We tried to dispense some sage dating advice, but she just wasn't having it. Oh well. We tried.

On Saturday we had a lovely lunch at the famous Chateau Marmont with fellow blogger, Melissa. There's a picture of that but you won't be seeing it. Sadly, Bev's camera was set on Fun House Mirror filter. Shame, because the front desk clerk in-training probably got fired for taking our picture for us. Stupid No Photo policy.

Our hotel was ridiculously close to the Kodak Theater, home of the Oscars.

Hello Oscar!

The lovely Maeghan joined us for a Oscar Eve Party. Maeghan dubbed this our "reverse Oreo cookie" picture.

The giggling started then and lasted for the next 8 hours. Lucky for you, the party included an all-you-can-shot photo booth.

Fast forward to the next day, Oscar Time!

Hollywood Blvd, as well as the entire area around our hotel went into lock down. Tarp covered chain link fences appeared every where. Armed police and swat teams canvased the area and pat-downs were abundant (especially when you ask nicely).

We jockeyed for a decent view of the pretty people arriving. As you can see, we didn't get one.

Even Jesus couldn't resist the Oscar hoopla!

It made me feel better that even HE didn't get an invite.

So after ~~going through the pat-down line enough times to raise suspicion~~ realizing we couldn't see a damn thing, we went back to our room to watch it all on TV.... *sigh*

The next day, LaBev and I decided to take in some sight seeing.

Out of no where this seemingly friendly Aussie tourist pushed me over the cliff.

But I managed to survive!

Then a little light shopping...

Did I mention I got ~~kicked out of~~ a job at Prada on Rodeo Drive?

While on the sight seeing tour our guide showed us Bar Marmont and said how impossible it is to get in since it is the place to be.

Well, that sounds like a challenge, doesn't it?
Oh how we laugh at your challenges!

The Bar Marmont was fabulous; delicious food, tasty wine and it didn't hurt that our waiter was Orlando Bloom's doppelganger.

No, that never hurts.

We may also be engaged...

The following day we hit Venice Beach; an eclectic community of artists, free spirits... and this guy...

Bev dared me to steal his shillelagh.

And just as Bev and I ran out of hand sanitizer, my left coast BFF called with an invite to... wait for it..... THE MAGIC CASTLE!!!!!! The Magic Castle is an uber-exclusive members only club in Hollywood. My friend's business/writing partner/actor Steve was performing so we were put on the list. suh-weet!

The hitch was there's a dress code at the tres chic Castle. It's well documented I'm a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl so it's no surprise that my suitcase didn't contain a cocktail dress or evening gown.

So I did what any girl would do... we went to Bloomingdales... and bought a designer dress.

Amex may be delivering my next statement by truck next month.

We also hustled to shop for a matching pair of heels (again, shocking that my luggage only included flat, sensible shoes...oh, and snow boots. Mustn't forget snow boots in LA *palmface*). We were successful in finding a pair of black peep-toes.... and a $58 parking ticket. Fabulous.

I will never be able to describe the awesomeness that is the Magic Castle. And I don't have any pictures to document either since it's another photo free zone. Bev and I + a place where we couldn't continuously snap silly photos = torture!

We arrived, found our names ~~scrawled on a cocktail napkin~~ on the list, and approached the golden owl (OWL!!!)on the bookshelf, uttered the magic words and a secret panel opened up and gave us entrance into the super secret world of a members only club house.

Immediately I noticed Bev going a few shades grey and shaking a bit. I took that as my cue to shuffle her over to the bar and order her a drink STAT. Turned out it wasn't her thirst that rendered her speechless, but the sight of a certain A-lister, who I shall call HaveYa Gardamn.

After a little vino medication, all was right in the world again and Bev and I set out to scour the castle. It's AMAZING... all old Hollywood splendor from a bygone era meets the Haunted Mansion, complete with a piano playing ghost named Irma.

Here's Irma sitting at the piano with some guy, who's not dead. Thank you to the interwebs for the photo.
We opted out of Lady Gaga's Paparazzi and requested Irma to play Led Zeppelin's Kashmir - which she did....fabulously. She can play anything you request. Magic, right?

As you wonder the castle, magicians are putting on performances in intimate little theaters and private nooks. We sat in on Steve's performance and he was un-flippin-believable!!!! He even picked Bev to assist him in trick that still has us baffled. Magic, ya know. We chatted him up a bit after his performance and I thanked him for the autograph and swag he sent Morgan and Beck from his Disney show.

Eventually ~~Bev and I found the exit~~ the night came to an inevitable end. An unforgettable evening indeed.

A FABULOUS trip for sure.

Pre-Oscars Preparations

2011-02-11T10:12:00.015-05:00

LaBev and I will be traveling to LaLa Land* to enjoy the pomp and circumstance of the Academy Awards... well, at least the hoopla behind the Kodak Theater. Yes, that's right, we'll be live from the alley behind the Oscars, right there between the dumpster and the passed out drunk in the SpongeBob costume. HUZZAH!

And just like the stars who will be using the front entrance, Bev and I are feverishly preparing to get glammed up! But unlike our starlet counterparts ~~we haven't starved ourselves for the past two months~~ we have to actually schlep through the mall to find clothing. Sadly, no designers have come knocking at our door, begging us to wear their clothes for free. Harry Winston, are you reading this?

Of course, it all starts with finding the perfect dress.

...which sadly, we didn't.

But at least we have the perfect footwear.
Classy, no?

Maybe we should focus on the accessories...

Do these make me look smaahhhhtttt?

A bird on the head is worth.... ummm... $3.99, according to Claire's.

OWLS!!! What does it mean?!?!

l'élastique rend parfait, non?

after ~~eating a carb-filled lunch~~ hours of shopping, Bev and I were exhausted and we got, perhaps, a little lazy in our quest for the perfect Oscar outfit.

I'm the second from the left... in case you didn't know.

Bev tires of taking her clothes off and finds an easier way to try on outfits.

In the end, we were ~~asked to leave by mall management~~ unsuccessful in our search for our ~~red carpet~~ back alley outfits.

So as it stands, Bev and I will be wearing sweats.

...unless we can borrow the Spongebob costume.

*barring any emergency surgeries or something.

Panama!

2011-02-07T09:12:00.007-05:00

Welcome! This page is getting major hits in the past few days. Are you all heading to Panama? Can I come with? Why not say "Hi" down in the comment area. Don't be shy. I don't bite...hard.

Just wanted to share our little time-lapse video of our transit through the Panama Canal. It takes about 8 hours to get from one ocean to the other, luckily, this video is considerably shorter.

And yes, it would be cooler if the music was Van Halen's Panama
... stupid copyright laws. Pshhhhhhhh.

Bikini Babes

2011-02-01T08:56:00.003-05:00

The fam and I recently fled life's madness and cruised from Miami to LA. If a picture's worth 1000 words, this post is a novel. But I promise, if you stick with me all the way to the end you will be rewarded with a scantly clad lady and some found porn... and by found, I mean the ill-chosen art that stared at me day in and day out right.at.the.foot.of.my.bed.

Shall we get this cruise started? Yes, yes we shall. Did we bring enough wine? Sadly, no. No, we didn't.

Aboard the NCL Star

RUN! Sea Monster!

DooDoo choose your song wisely

Back off ladies! He's mine!

Hot Taco

Guess who got a new dress...

Go on... guess!
Sea junk

More Sea Junk

Psshhhh! We don't need no stinkin' properly fitting life jackets!

The glasses were buy one, get one. What?

This picture scares me.

So we went from big boat to a little boat, cruising down a murky river in Costa Rica when our driver (captain?) jumped barefoot out of the boat and summoned his friend out of the water

My first thought: Does anyone else know how to driver the boat home. This was no petting zoo! That's a wild 15ft Croc.

Beck's gonna work his way up to the crocs.

This is how you go through the Panama Canal

Being carried off by 15 medical personal is NOT.

Although I don't have the official tally, I know of at least two deaths on our ship. Not bad considering the median age of the passengers was 103.

Just for the record, I have been cleared of any involvement in either deaths.

11pm: This is a clear hint that the counselors in the kids' club hate you.

I LOVE wrestling my over-tired, high-as-a-kite-on-sugar kid into a late night shower. FYI that's not face paint, its black axel grease.

Easy come

Easy go

Ice cream.every.single.day.

Only 12 kids on the ship = kids pool all to ourselves.

Just as we took this picture we got rear-ended. It was a hit and gallop.

OK, as promised... some found porn.

This massive....ummmm, lighthouse... light-less lighthouse... light-less lighthouse with a curve to the right...

moving on...

VOILA!

So, there you have it. It was a fabulous vacation.

What? The lady in the bikini? Oh yeahhhhh, I'm sorry. Let me zoom out...

You know I couldn't see that and not take a picture! Well, gotta go, my handbasket is ready.

Found Her!

2011-01-31T10:54:00.005-05:00

WHEW!!! Where do I begin? January has been a whirlwind of activity. So much so that by mid-month I called 'uncle' and flew the coup for 2+ weeks and sailed down to the Panama Canal. More about that in a future post.

But before I go unpack the 120lbs of dirty laundry, let me leave you with this exciting tidbit of news;

Beck does that same exact half-scowl, concentrating look. Genetics is a wondrous thing.

Take Five

2011-01-11T11:40:00.003-05:00

So what would you do for $5? Check out this ~~total time-waster~~ website and see what you can get people to do for a fiver.

Birthday Boy!

2011-01-09T21:41:00.008-05:00

Beck had his first real big boy birthday bash on Friday. And where better to let a pack of 5 and 6 year old boys loose on a sugar high than the local arcade!

Pizza, ice cream, diabetes-inducing birthday cake and a warehouse full of obnoxiously loud video games and a kid size habitrail (READ: NO CLEAN UP AT MY HOUSE)= AWESOME.

And I have the pictures to prove it.

Beck at the Wheel of Wow. Trust me, that is the look of pure WOW.

SUGAR!!!! I mean, cake, There is cake under there, right?

How do I caption this picture? Where do I start? The one-legged boy? Beck hugging/attacking his friend? Joe instinctively protecting the family jewels?

In the end, everyone went home sticky, tired and happy. And Beck had his best birthday party ever! (READ: MY HOUSE WAS UNSCATHED)

I'm On Fire!

2011-01-07T08:12:00.012-05:00

Here it is January and I'm just getting around to posting about Christmas. I'm really falling behind in my bloggy duties.

Santa's been here and he's a slob.

Before the rip fest!

Ready, set....

RIP!

Worst. gift. ever.
This piece of crap is supposed to play games. I spent most of Christmas trying to download games onto it. At wit's end, I finally emailed the company. This is their response:

As stated in our manual, features are subject to change without notice,
games is no longer a feature with our players. There are many other
great things you can do with this player. Thank you for your purchase.

Best Regards,

Joey
Visual Land Team
Support Representative

Dear Joey - I hope your crouch is infested by the fleas of a thousand camels. And by the way, the only great thing I can do with your shitty non-game playing game thing is to throw it in the dump!

Santa got a little ghetto with the "stockings"

The family checking out their loot.

Yes, that's my grandmother. How could you tell?

Benji LOVED this gift. Shame it wasn't his.

That's great, Daddy, but can we play with it now?

Our version of a rope tow

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Keeping with tradition, we spent another fabulous New Year's Eve at Casa de LaBev.

After midnight and 8 out of 10 kids were still going strong!

Rockin' the PJs and party hats!

So there you have it, 2010 lazily wrapped up in a picture-laden post. It's what you've come to expect from me, no?

And I have to admit, things will probably not get any better. I have been commissioned to write a book and that will probably be taking up my time and brainpower.

I'm really excited about the project. I originally wrote the proposal for this book in 2006. The publisher loved it and gave me the green light to start researching and writing. Shortly thereafter I began writing a new project, called a dossier.

(I just spent the last 45 minutes looking for the picture of our dossier, but no luck. But trust me, it was HUGE! Hundreds of pages. Don't believe me, ask Bev, who had to notarize almost every page. It devoured most of my 2007. Of course when I finally finished it, Beck came home and our lives didn't slow down a bit.)

So the book was put on the back burner. Hell, let's be honest, it wasn't even on the stove top. It was probably in the back of the fridge, next to something green and moldy and wrapped in plastic wrap.

Flash forward to November 2010 and out of the blue I get a letter from the publisher asking me ~~to get my ass in gear~~ to consider starting the book. This time, the timing is perfect.

So now I've been writing summaries, filing out paperwork and collecting historical documents, which has been very interesting and hopefully I'll share some along the way.

So that's where I've disappeared to. I'm very excited but also have a mountain of work in front of me.

But I will make an effort to keep up my little bloggy.

Why Beck Will NEVER Miss A Karate Class

2010-12-22T08:54:00.005-05:00

Beck has recently started taking karate and last night was his first group lesson. The first 30 minutes was nothing short of annoying as I tried to watch my son, all the while being harassed by some toddler who's father was in some sort of oblivious coma. I don't enjoy being annoyed by my own kids, never mind some stranger's spawn. When 3 more rugrats joined her, and their parents were too self-absorbed to take notice that their offspring were congregating around me, I began to question whether I wanted to hang with this crowd every week.

And then HE walked in...
*

HOLY RALPH FIENNES DOPPELGANGER, BATMAN!

Eye candy that looks like Ralph Fiennes! It's like Christmas came early!

So yes, I think I can *suffer* through weekly karate classes now.

*Yes, I know I need to get a better picture, but I was trying to be all inconspicuous, which was difficult while giggling like a school girl. But trust, the resemblance is AWESOME.

Oh, and if the Eye Candy Fairy is listening, mind getting him to grown his hair like this:

Elf you!

2010-12-20T11:53:00.001-05:00

Because I can't resist ~~wasting time~~ every year!

Wordless (kinda) Wednesday

2010-12-08T14:21:00.006-05:00

A month worth of posts reduced into one post via pictures. Awesome.

Beck got busted at school for wearing overly revealing clothes.

We're hunting a Christmas tree. Be wery, wery quiet.

You're goin' down!

Morgan and her dance team put on an abridged version of the Nutcracker for a local nursing home. Good thing it wasn't the full proformance - most were asleep by the second dance.

I blame the meds.

Mistletoe

Hangin' with The Big Guy

OK Santa, let's get down to business. I hope you have a big sleigh.

The fam just hangin' around, sitting on the floor. What? We always look this good...and coordinated.

Spook-Tacular!

2010-11-01T08:18:00.007-04:00

Hello my sugar-coated webby pals. I hope you all had a great Halloweeny weekend. I know I did!
On Saturday night, we joined the LaBevs and Team E+M for some adult Halloween festivities at a local restaurant.

I ~~forced~~ convinced Joe to go as Billy The Exterminator, and I think he pulled it off well. OK, maybe a little too well. He made it only 3 feet through the front door before the first group of women insisted on a picture with him. That trend continued all night. Joe is now regretting his life choices and wishes he had decided to be a greasy bug-killer rather than going to grad school. Live and learn.

Drac and his Babelicious Elvira

By Sunday afternoon, we had recovered (ish) enough to take the kidlets out for for some good ol' candy hunting.

Beck the Transformer and Morgan the Midnight Fairy

Yes, those wings really do work

Is there anything better than attaching a plastic mask to your face with a rubber band?

So how was your weekend? Who rocked the costume fun?

Tuesday Truths

2010-10-12T09:13:00.003-04:00

I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer
history if you die.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

There is great need for a sarcasm font.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

Was learning cursive really necessary?

Map Quest really needs to start their directions on # 5. I'm pretty sure I know
how to get out of my neighborhood.

Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories.

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you know
that you just aren't going to do anything productive for the rest of the day.

Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blu Ray? I don't want to have to restart my collection...again.

I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I swear I did not make any changes to.

I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than Kay.

I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear or understand a word they said?

I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers and sisters!

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

Feel free to add your own.

Another Brick In The Wall-E

2010-10-07T18:31:00.002-04:00

And now I will step away from the photoshopping and do something a bit more productive.

Learning To Fly

2010-10-06T10:49:00.019-04:00

Yes, yes, yes I've been a very bad blogger. Actually, can I really still consider myself a blogger? Doesn't one have to blog to be a blogger. Yes, bad form indeed.

But moving on.

...or rather, catching up.

Have I ever mentioned I'm a bit on the spontaneous side? Impulsive even, perhaps. Well, I am. Recently, while I was to go visit the local grocery store, I was in a mental slump. It was a beautiful day and I had no good excuse to be so, well, slumpy. So I decided I needed a change in perspective.

This was the new vantage point I needed:

There's no sensation to compare with this
Suspended animation, a state of bliss

I stopped into my neighborhood airfield where a kindly, yet frightfully elderly, pilot risked his, mine and a few hundred earth-bound beings' lives to give me a crash course...no, no...that's not right, let's say, a cliff notes version of a flying lesson. Fifteen minutes on the ground going over all the doohickeys and things that go ping. Then it was all 'contact', propeller spinning and before I knew it I was taxing down the runway.

Did you know that while on the ground, the little steering wheel thing does you no good? A few close calls off the runway and I finally understood that point.

And while thoughts of a certain DeLorian ran threw my head, we sped faster and faster down the runway and suddenly were airborne. Incredible. While Capt. Ancient shouted commands of the things I've only briefly learned about, and in my shear panic of actual flight, had now completely forgotten about, we dipped and weaved, and bumped our way into the clear blue sky. I may or may not have wet myself at this point. Honestly, I was sweating too much to be certain.

Since we had an hour to burn in the friendly skies, Mr. Wright asked me where I would like to go. I requested a fly over my farm. Thankfully he took the controls as I snapped pictures. I snapped pictures. very. slowly.

Eventually he insisted I take back the controls and we continued our flight. I flew west and circled around my Dad's house and finally turned back towards the airport. He went over all the steps to landing all the while my mind kept shouting over the sound of his voice, "you're freakin' crazy!!!!", so I missed most of the directions. Maybe I could just take some pictures as we land, no?

As we passed over the main road and I could actually see into people's car windows, I felt another surge of panic. He told me to idle down the engine, line up to the runway, BUT DON'T LOOK AT THE RUNWAY! because apparently, if you do, you're more likely to nose-dive into it. Oh good gawd! So with white knuckles, heart palpitations and a renewed will to live, I fixed my eyes past the runway...but only before I notice Amelia Earhart's Dad now sat next to me, slightly leaning back with his arms firmly crossed, like he was welcoming certain death. Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
I held back the urge to cry...or scream, and idled the engine to a near halt, tipped the nose up and...

Gently now, you just wanna kiss the ground, just a little peck, a smooch like you're kissing your sister.

TERRA FIRMA!

And again, that steering wheel thing doesn't help once you're on the ground. Slow, eh?
But after a few quick detours off the tarmac, and back on again, I nervously guided the plane off the runway and to it's parking spot next to other expensive planes I could easily wipe out with one false move. The sound of cutting engine was the sweetest of all.

Another item off the bucket list. Check and mark!

But wait there's more...

Another item on my list; see The Wall live. And well, since the original tour was when I was 4 or 5 years old, that item seemed to have no hopes of being fulfilled without a time machine.

...until Roger Water announce a new tour earlier this year!

Pink Floyd The Wall has been my favorite film for the past 20 years. Call me crazy, call me morose, but I LOVE that film and album.

Well the concert, or rather theatrical performance did not disappoint! It was INCREDIBLE! Our seats were right on the floor, which of course was super cool!

I can't say I've attended many concerts that were this emotional. Roger Water's has tweaked the message a bit from his personal loss of his father to war, to how we all lose something to war; loved ones, freedom, humanity, innocence. On all sides.

08:45 was a super cool moment!

If the tour comes to your neighborhood, run like hell to see it.

hee, get it?

Roger Waters channels his inner Richard Gere;

Morgan channels her inner Bob Geldof.

Goodbye, blue sky

Wordless Wednesday - My Life's a Circus

2010-09-08T20:35:00.008-04:00

I say Mr. Dee looks 'crack-a-lackin'!'. Mr. Dee says, "Call the authorities!"

I live with a bunch of clowns!

How did I get 15 people to dress up like clowns and super heroes to represent my farm? You'd think I had incriminating pictures of each of them or something...

ROAR!

And then a little post parade swim in the river.

Three Years To The Day

2010-08-31T11:35:00.006-04:00

Three years ago today, Beck stepped off a plane and met his sister for the first time.

Today, for the first, he boarded the school bus for kindergarten.

Where does the time go?

How I spent My Summer Vacation

2010-08-24T13:40:00.008-04:00

Obviously, not blogging.

Although I still have a week ~~left of putting up with these rugrats constantly under foot~~ before school starts, I figured I'd be ahead of the times and recap the summer of 2010 before it's officially over.

Of course, in pictures.

Caught crabs

Broke child labor laws

Convinced the kids that Christmas is over

Made new online friends

FINALLY made it by Aerosmith's security

Put some OompaLoompa's out of work

Enjoyed the wild ride

Checked out how the kids measured up

Fed some fish

But mostly, enjoyed summer to the fullest.

Packing the last week full of more shenanigans and then I'll be back.
I Promise.

Next Time I'll Lock The Door

2010-07-27T20:07:00.007-04:00

What the? Jeebus, I abandon the joint for *cough* a month or so and vandals come in and trash the place. What the Friggity frack? Please bare with me while I figure out how to get this place back in shape...and figure out where that smell is coming from *sniff sniff* *shudder*

In the mean time, here's a brief update on where the hell I've been (in pictures of course):

Practicing good sportsmanship

Partying like a rockstar

Still getting photo-bombed

Hanging with Bev

Helping strangers

Up a creek without a paddle

Teaching the kids to levitate

I'll work on bringing the blog back to a recognizable state and resume my blog-stalking soon. Promise.

I Come By It Honestly

2010-07-19T10:53:00.003-04:00

For any of you who wonder where I get my craziness from....
Go MOM!

Wordless Wednesday - Photo Bombed

2010-06-30T08:23:00.002-04:00

Is it any wonder that LaBev and I like to roll childless...

I'm still amid summer riding camp here at the farm. I'll be back next week.
I hope.

Dazed and Confused...and Just Plain Tired

2010-06-22T19:06:00.009-04:00

Shhhhhh.... I'm hiding from the kids. I'm way behind on my interwebs due to the fact I have summer camp here at the farm for 2 weeks and I'm up to my eyeballs in kids, riding, and figuring out what that smell is... no time (or energy) to blog stalk. I'm going through serious withdrawal. But I WILL be back, I promise.

Last week was fun... Saw what might very well be my last Jethro Tull concert. Poor Ian. I'll chalk it up to new(ish) band members and an off night, but he's gonna have to pull some new tricks out of his sleeve to get us to buy tickets to his next tour. Oh, and no more songs about bunnies in his garden. OK?

But you know who did rock? GET THE LED OUT! AGAIN!

The LaBevs, Team E&M and Joe & I rented a house by the seashore... well, it ended up being more of a dilapidated Frat house... but the concert was awesome!

Crazy eyes! We gots 'em.

And as if the concert could get any better, I got to ~~feel~~ chat up Andrew, the band's guitarist, keyboardist and resident Hottie McHotHot!

Wouldn't we make cute babies? Cute, little lazy-eyed babies. *sigh*

Oh crap! The kids have found me! I thought it would take them longer to get themselves out of that duct tape.

Anyway, for the whole story, go read Bev's recap of the evening.

And if Get The Led Out ever comes anywhere near your neck of the woods, GO SEE THEM!!!

(Not Nearly) Wordless Wednesday - School's Out Edition

2010-06-16T14:04:00.006-04:00

Eeesh! Sorry I've been AWOL, things have been hectic this week. And really, how much crap can we fit into the last week of school?

And trust me, I'm feeling like a heel that I haven't even responded to comments in the past TWO posts! Egads! I'm a loosah! But believe me, I love you all.... LOVE YOU! Like, rub up all against you, love you. Really.

But for now, bring on the Wordless (or not) Wednesday.

Morgan got a surprise ride home from school yesterday. Her teacher was a good sport and didn't let on. She even let the class watch "Spirit" right before pick-up.

Dee and Storm wait for the school bell to ring.

Morgan was all smiles for the rest of the day. She called out to anyone who happened to be outside, "It's funny to get picked up at school by a horse!". During the relaxing ride home, we talked about school and summer and everything in between. This was possibly the best ride I've ever had.

SCHOOLS OUT FOR SUMMER!

Time to clean out the backpack. CRIPES! That's a lot of crap! What the... is her backpack a TARDIS?
Mr. Hoffa, is that you?
*Corona not included

This is what I missed while in Florida Morgan's dance recital. There she is... the one in the green... with her hair pulled back.... Isn't she the cutest?
*yeah, I can't tell which one she is either.

And speaking of Florida, it was fun. And HOT! DAMN HOT!

Here's a menu I found at our hotel.

Prultry, anyone? Mmmmmm, tastes like Gator.
And while schlepping around Hollywood Studio, I spotted this guy - and you know, because I love you all so much, I had to take a picture.

NOT AT THE TABLE, CARLOS!

Well, that's all. I wish I could promise that I'll get back on track now, but I wouldn't want to lie to you.

Later Taters.

Wang or Bust

2010-06-10T09:09:00.003-04:00

Well, we've been doing this for two days.

750 bales down, another 250 to go. But the weather is looking crappy for the weekend so I'm bustin' out my Get Out of Jail Free card, and flying south to America's Wang to hang with the Mouse and generally not think or do a damn thing. WOOT!

Before I head to the airport, I thought I'd leave you a picture of our little Milo, post visit to the groomer yesterday.

I dedicate this picture to Bev.

Have a great weekend!

Wordless Wednesday - Project Runway

2010-06-09T07:35:00.002-04:00

Morgan is one creative and busy kid. She dreams up projects and ~~she will drive me crazy~~ won't stop until she completes them.
Last week she decided to fashion her own garment, so she gathered up some of my ~~ugliest~~ scrap fabrics, and with needle and thread, set to work.
Two days of later, she unveiled this toga-inspired ensemble, complete with horsey cap-sleeves and coordinating belt.
Of course, as it was her first design, she learned that being able to actually walk in it would be helpful... but in the fashion world, not necessarily necessary. But after one good cut up the back with scissors, she was good to go.
Morgan then declared that she was going to premiere her latest fashion at school. For a moment I thought about all the clothing disagreements we'll probably have in the future, I decided to choose my battles wisely, and give her a pass on this one. Besides, she was so dang proud of it, how could I say no?

She's so in.

Gettin' Wet and Dirty

2010-06-07T17:58:00.009-04:00

Another weekend, another horse show. But Mother Nature added an interesting twist this time; sidewards rain, flooding and tornado warnings. Oh My!
But she needs to throw us more than that (but, please don't) to stop Courtney and Storm. We spent most of the day camping out inside the trailer, only hopping out to enter the ring and then right back into the cozy, dry shelter of the Storm-mobile.

Staying warm and dry in the trailer.

More and more rain. Taking cover and watching the weather radar.

In the end, Mother Nature won out as we huddled inside the trailer, peeking out only to discover everyone else had left. Heh. Shouldn't we win by default?

Luckily, the majority of the show was completed, only the games were left - which is, of course, Courtney's favorite. But Courtney and Storm did great in the the classes that were held; 3 firsts, 1 second and 1 third; being awarded Grand Champion for the day in her division.

I thought I'd share a little story about the name of our farm. While I was pregnant, Joe and I couldn't agree on a name for the baby. At wit's end, we asked Jethro Tull's front man Ian Anderson for his suggestion (doesn't everyone?); he suggested Fiona (and Seamus, if it was a boy).
Unfortunately, as pretty as the name Fiona is, all I could think of was:

Yeah, Yoda in drag... no thanks.

So although we totally dissed Ian's suggestion for our baby's name, we did name our farm after one of his songs.

A beautiful song.

...but a really dirty song. NTTAWWT.

So far, only one person has ever made that connection... and they blushed. A LOT.

Free-Range Crazies?

2010-05-27T10:15:00.010-04:00

I'm a talk radio junkie. I admit it, I could listen for hours; local and national politics, news, gardening (it has helped though, I assure you my plants are still pathetic), advice and relationships... if they're talking, I'm listening. But last Saturday Boston talk show host Mel Robbins was discussing "Take Our Children to the Park & Leave Them There Day".

This is part of the free-range parenting movement based on the belief that we are crippling our children with our never-ending fears. This writer, Lenore Skenazy, suggests we need to give our children the opportunity to become self-reliant, responsible and confident - by not being tended to every waking moment by helicoptering parents who are riddled with overprotective thoughts of "what if". Sounds good, right?
But the means in which to accomplish this, by her advise, is to leave your kids in public places. Yes, drop them off, give them a pat on the head and tell them to be home by dinner.

Back the bus up!

But Lenore Skenazy practices what she preaches. You may remember her as the mother who let her 9-year-old son take the New York City subway home alone. Just because he survived, doesn't make it a good idea.

Mel Robbin was going on about what a fabulous idea this was. What the what? Seriously? She asked all her listeners to take their school-age kids (5 years and up? Right?) to their neighborhood park, drop them off and drive away.

Wait, why don't we call this "Pedophile Appreciation Day"?

Usually happy just to listen, I was speed dialing the show.

No way on Earth would I leave my child alone anywhere. Mel and I got into a heated debate. She questioned why I was so irrationally over-protective, that the chances of my child being abducted was something like 1:1.4million. I questioned her about how she would feel if her child was that one. One. That's one too many.

Moreover, it's not so much the abduction scenario that plagues my Mommy-mind, though it does, it's all the other, more likely likelihoods; bullies, accidents, the perv wearing nothing but a trench coat who likes to give a little looky-loo, other a-hole parents, and the one I could probably count on if I ever dumped my kid anywhere - the call to the authorities.

She said I was being delusional, people don't just call the police over nothing.
I replied that I was living in the real world, you know, the real world where my neighbors called the police on me for blindfolding my horses.

Yeah, it's called a fly mask.
And will I be getting conjugal visits?

I wish we lived in the kind of world that I could ~~get rid of~~ allow my kids to adventure off for the day, on their bikes, in the neighborhood. I grew up in that world. It was awesome. I wish my kids could too. But we don't.
Growing up, we knew our neighbors, we knew our whole town. We knew who we could ask if we needed help, and who to cross to the opposite side of the street when spotted.
And despite the fact I still live in a small town, I don't know my neighbors... Well, there's the guy next door, that we call Mountain Man, who throws parties all weekend which always include lots of booze (NTTAWWT), men screaming "NO! You're the needledick!" and something bursting into flames.
Then on the other side of our property we have these people. Well, we don't know them either. But their grounds staff seem very nice.

So despite our small, yet diverse little neighborhood, I've lived here 10 years and I really don't know many of them.

She questioned why I don't make a casserole and go introduce myself. My first thought is; I'd probably be shot just approaching either one of these houses.

But the truth is, in general, people keep to themselves. Our society doesn't want to be bothered. If they want to have a relationship, they'll send a friend request on FB. Sad, but true. I think, in large part, it's due to the "sue-happy" attitude of this country. If you don't know your neighbors, they won't come over and slip on your front step. No lawsuit, no problem. It stinks, but it's the truth.

I continued our little ~~fight~~ discussion by addressing the flip side of the coin; when I take my kids somewhere, say the park, I get annoyed and uncomfortable when there's unsupervised kids, especially when I'm the only adult. I don't know the legalities, but when I'm the only person over 18, I suddenly feel responsible for all the kids. And maybe I'm supposed to feel that way, you know, the whole it takes a village... But it annoys me that I have to feel that way, that the other absentee parents just assume I'll take responsibility. And suddenly, a trip to the park to have fun with my kids has turned into a stress-filled, un-paid babysitting gig.

And what about liability? If little Billy pushes little Susie and breaks her arm, can the parents come back to me and say "why didn't you stop it from happening?". Technically, yes, they can. And as ridiculous as it sounds, then can sue me. They may not win, but I'll still be on the hot seat... and in the hole financially just to defend myself.

That's the world we live in.

And how do I know if that guy dragging the crying child off the playground is a parent of the child who wants to stay and play.... or something else?

At the end of my little on-air chat, my mind had not been changed, and Ms. Robbins was still living in a fantasy world where every adult is trust-worthy and every child is safe and sound.

I'm all for teaching my child how to be confident, self-assured and independent, but my first responsibility is to keep my child safe. How could I live with myself if I actively failed at that.

So what are your thoughts?

Wordless Wednesday - Birthday Girl

2010-05-26T07:44:00.003-04:00

It's hard to believe she will be 8 years old on Friday.

Dear Time,
Please slow down just a bit. It's all going by too quickly.

Frankly, My Dear....

2010-05-24T10:43:00.014-04:00

LaBev and I traveled to Boston on Friday to meet the infamous Frank, who may or may not have flown all the way from Texas just to meet us.

On the car ride south, Bev and I ~~discussed escape plans, in case he was a freak~~ pondered what the night might hold.

While sitting outside Cheers, we regretted not requesting Frank to wear something that might make him stand out in a crowd, such as a kilt or a bowler hat... but hell, this is Boston, that stuff is common-place. Bev insisted she spotted him, but I disagreed since somewhere in my mind I believed he would be wearing this outfit;

and of course, driving this;

Of course, Bev was correct and Frank surprised us with ~~dead dandelions~~ flowers.

And in case you were wondering, yes it was bright and sunny in Boston on Friday.

We made our way to dinner where Bev and I enjoyed a bottle on Pinot Gris, while Frank gingerly sipped un-sweetened ice tea.

At which point, Bev and I were maybe a smidge worried.

But then we found Frank's weakness; Bacon and Blue Cheese Martinis.

... and the party began!

I'll let the pictures tell the rest of the story.

Who likes to party?

This guy!

Frank even attempted to recreate his one moment of fame:

Frank was much shorter than I had imagined.

Give me "sexy"

Give me "special"

So there you have it. Good times. Frank is as ~~pervy~~ fun and witty as we could have hoped for. And we left him relatively unscarred.

Dust Off the Mantle

2010-05-20T12:52:00.006-04:00

I'm on fire! Two posts in one day! You'd think I have nothing better to do...

LaBev has graced me with a major award! As an "Awesome Commenter" I need to ~~don an evening gown~~ receive my award by simply answering 10 questions, so here goes:

1. What is your most embarrassing moment of all time? Oh which one do I chose? I guess I'll go with the time I had BOTH of my boyfriends show up at my horse show. Luckily, they arrived just as I was heading to the ER, but the last words I heard were one of them saying to the other, "So, are you like a friend or something?". Ackward.

2. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? EASY! Bev's Chicken Tikka Masala!

3. How old were you when you had your first kiss? Kindergarten on the short bus. Brian L. We're still FB friends.

4. What is your browser's home page? Gmail Homepage. Wild, right?

5. What color do you never, ever wear? Anything Dayglow

6. Are you a nature-lover or a city-slicker? Nature all the way.

7. If you were granted 3 wishes, what would they be? (none of that "more wishes" crap!) The power to make good things magically happen, the power to make bad things magically not happen, and Ralph Fiennes obsessively in love with me.

8. Do you have any scars? How'd you get them? I have many. But they're in the inside. I don't like to talk about them.
Ah, just kidding. Lots of scars, most of which I don't recall how I earned them; falls, kicks, bites... and 1 surgery.

9. Ever seen a ghost? Yes, I had a man who used to stand and watch me in the barn. I'd catch him out of the corner of my eye. He left after I consulted with a Shaman.

10. What is your dream job? I'm probably living my dream job; owning my own horse farm. Of course, ask me again when it's -15F.

Now in turn, I'm supposed to select my top 10 commenters and offer up 10 questions for them to answer. But as you may have noticed, I took my Top Commenters widget down to give it a tuneup and I accidently dropped it and it shattered into a million pieces. So being the non-conformist I am, I'm switching it up and picking the folks who NEVER comment. I'm looking at YOU Encino, CA (this includes LA, Van Nuys and Santa Cruz), Miami, FL, Eugene, OR, Hooksett, NH, Tallahassee, Florida (my linky junkie! I heart you), Ireland, and anyone else who been hiding in the lurker section.

C'mon, we don't bite...hard.

Here's your questions;
1. If you won $1Million dollars, what would you do first?
2. Which celebrity do you most resemble?
3. If you could live one day over in your life, which day would you pick?
4. If you could live another person's life for 1 day, who would you chose?
5. If given the opportunity, would you travel into space?
6. If you were forced to, which high school course would take again?
7. If you created your own cocktail, what would it be called?
8. If you had to chose only one, would you chose to be beautiful when you're young for a short time or when you're old for a long time?
9. If you wrote a novel, what would it be about?
10. What super power would you wish to possess?

There ya go. So if you're here and you've never commented, this is for you. Just leave your answers right here in the comments or a link to your own blog.

~~I'll be very hurt if you don't comment and will probably have to seek some sort of therapy due to your blatant rejection.~~Looking forward to hearing from you.

It's Only Funny on SNL

2010-05-20T10:39:00.003-04:00

So someone decided a few weeks ago that waking me up at midnight to make the bed (not change the sheets, mind you. To make the bed, you know the one I was already sleeping in.) was a fabulous idea. Apparently, he couldn't go to bed until we re-tucked everything in, neatened the sheets... and then proceed to pull back the sheets to get in, naturally un-doing everything we just did.

reminds me of something....

I think I've mentioned that Mala likey her sleep. And after 10 years of marriage, I'd assume he'd know this fact as well. Moreover, don't wakey Mala to do housework. EVER. Especially inane, and INSANE, midnight chores. Seriously, don't wake me up unless the house is on fire. And by that, I mean only the part of the house I'm sleeping in. Just let me sleep if it's the other part of the house. Got it?

So you can imagine how thrilled I was when he woke me up to partake in his insanity.

In other news; guess who got a dozen roses and one, yes ONE, round trip ticket to anywhere!

Wordless Wednesday - Prom

2010-05-19T07:49:00.003-04:00

'Tis the season. And with Bev's wondrous powers of magic and illusion, I now remember my prom much more fondly.

Holy First Communion, Batman!

2010-05-16T21:36:00.020-04:00

I know, First Communion is supposed to be serious business, but c'mon, this is my family we're talking about. We don't do serious.

But I admit, I was a bit stressed dealing with dress, unruly veils and keeping Beck presentable (read: keeping him in unripped clothing. It's harder than you think. The boy can blow out the knees of a pair of pants by just thinking about it.)

But once both ruggies were dressed, I hurriedly tried to take photographic proof that they were both neat and clean and well dressed, you know, just in case they spilled something or sat in any mysterious stickiness on the 10 minute ride to the church. 'Cause that would happen. Trust.

Yeah, I know I have you staring directly at the sun, but dammit, stop squinting!

Beck, did you just yawn? I'm sorry, am I boring you? Ugh. Let's try one more picture, shall we?

Oh, damnit! Forget it! Just get in the car. And don't get dirty!

I'm not sure why I spent any time doing Morgan's hair either. It was W I N D Y!

Finally we made our way inside.

After Morgan nagged me for most of the mass with "I'm hungry, when do I get to eat the bread?", it was her big moment.

And as soon as Morgan received her communion wafer, Beck shouted out, "I WANT ONE TOO!". Ugh.

At the conclusion on the mass, Father Steve called the girls up and gave them each a special gift.
"Nice gloves. Madonna used to wear ones just like these."

"Now remember, boys have cooties..."

"Did your Mom do your hair? It's a mess. Here, let me fix that."

So we made it! And everyone stayed clean and tidy... well, until the ride home when Beck somehow got his hands on a marker and decorated his new dress shirt. *sigh*

Even the dog was wiped out by the end of the festivities.

Hope you all had a great weekend.

(the rest of this post is for the benefit of family members that weren't able to attend. Of course ya'll are free to stay. We'll break out slides from last year's vacation. Now let me whip up some dip.)

Pineapple! Pineapple!

2010-05-14T22:16:00.001-04:00

Whilst enjoying a banana split tonight, Joe reminded me of how much a love this video. It's been around for a few years (and is of crappy quality - sorry), but oh how I laugh each and every time.

Nutty-ness

2010-05-10T10:10:00.018-04:00

Last week I acquired a new tenant in the horse barn; a baby squirrel who thought I was his new BFF. As cute as he was, the little rodent in a fur coat was constantly under foot.

No really, I almost squished him several times.

The other night, Sir Nuts-A-Lot decided he was having a sleep over in Mr. Dee's stall. Still suspicious he may be a rabies-carrying vermin, I tried politely shoo-ing him out. He just ignored me and continued to roll around making little squirrel angels in the shavings. So then I tried pushing him with my boot. In an act of defiance, he went all stiff-legged and refused to budge. With nails digging into the wood floors and little squirrely skid marks all the way, I finally managed to get him into the hallway where he had a clear, straight shot out of the barn. But no, the stubborn little rat in a fur coat just sat there, refusing to leave. But now, as I ~~booted his little squirrel behind~~ nudged him onwards, he started to growl and lunge at me. Little bastard. The louder I ~~cried~~ yelled at him to leave, the louder he growled and jumped up and down angrily.

By now it was nearing midnight, and I couldn't let the horses in until the little squirrel was out of the way. As much as he was making me ~~cry~~ angry, picking up smooshed squirrel wasn't a pleasant option, for either of us. So I filled a bucket of water and tried to wash him out of the barn. He rode the wave of water a few feet and then turned back to look at me. He was not too happy. But still not budging.

By the second bucket of frigid water, he just looked plain pathetic and terribly sad as he slowly scampered out of the barn. Defeated.

I, unfortunately, spent the rest of the night reading up on Eastern Grey Squirrel and how you should never allow the baby squirrels to get cold and wet or they'll die a horrible death by hypothermia.
I'm a horrid baby squirrel killer. I. suck.

Or so I thought.

The next morning Nutty McNutNut was back out to greet me, no worse for the wear. But by then I had decided I needed to break out the Hav-A-Hart trap. Sadly, I have no idea how to set the damn thing. And while I tried figuring it out, he ran in and out of it, playing, and having a great time trying to figure out what the hell I was doing.

At least he was nice enough to pose for a picture with the trap.

By Day 3 he made himself right at home. He put on a great show for a crowd of people I had at the barn; playing amongst their feet, scampering around in everyone's way, mocking me by standing on his little Hav-A-Hart trap.

I finally had my victory when I caught the little bugger on Saturday night! As I laughed triumphantly at him in his cage, this little guy came to see what all the ruckus was about.

D'OH!
I quickly grabbed a bucket, and laid it on the ground...

...and he walked right in!

So now I had two squirrels, and it's Sunday morning...what to do? What to do?
And then it dawned on me!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM!
Aren't I just the best daughter ever?

And they're living the good life, being pampered squirrels.

Unless we get a hankerin' for squirrel melts...

Busy Weekend - In Pictures

2010-05-03T12:00:00.014-04:00

WOW! What a gorgeous weekend! We took full advantage of it by jam-packin' it with tons of fun-ness. So much good times in fact, you're in for a lazy-ass post. You know, a picture's worth a thousand words, so...

Friday we loaded up 3 horses and hit the beach.

Morgan hitches a ride.

Storm and I getting our feet wet.

Di and Taz - We're not at the race track anymore, Taz

This is way better than life on the track!

Storm and Morgan

After riding on the beach, Morgan took off camping with Grammy and Bumpa for the weekend, while Beck, Joe and I headed for the ball park to watch a game and some fireworks. Beautiful night!

Saturday morning, we saddled up again and took the race horse for his first trail ride ~~since he was still tired from his workout on the beach~~. He did fabulously!

Saturday afternoon, Beck and I enjoyed a different kind of ride!
Remember that little boy who had his first ride in a car at 2 1/2 years old... and screamed bloody murder the whole time?

He was loving the helicopter ride! Hooting and hollering the whole time... into his headset mic! OUCH!

note: NO DOORS!!!!

Sunday we joined Team E&M plus kids at the local amusement park.

Beck and a dinosaur.... oh, and a brachiosaurus.
So there you have it, my weekend update. Now I need a nap.

(Not At All) Wordless Wednesday - Rodeo Remix

2010-04-28T09:25:00.007-04:00

I've always had this running Bucket List in my head and I've been fortunate to have been able to slap a big ol' check mark next to many of the items. Lived my dream as a trapeze artist... check. Stunt double in a movie.... checkeroo! Sailed through the Panama Canal .... check, Matey! Learned how to fly.... check-a-roo-ski! Meet Steven Tyler.... well, I'm still working on that.
Anyway, one of the items on my list was to ride as a flag girl in the rodeo... You know, this:

OK, except maybe sitting on the horse.

Anyhoo, I got my chance while living in Florida when I got hired by the Dodge Truck Rodeo Team. And I have to say, I loved it! Every week we got dolled up in gaudy, glittery, sequined outfits and galloped around the rodeo arena, carry the US flag or Dodge flag between each rodeo event. Midway through the rodeo we'd come out and perform a wild, galloping drill routine. Seriously, such an awesome job!
And did I mention copious amount of the tight little cowboy butts in tight little jeans. Occupational BONUS!

All this in exchange for just staying on my horse...

oh, and having to wear a cowboy hat.

Brazilians and Bobby D

2010-04-22T10:18:00.009-04:00

Bev and I blew off all our adulty duties yesterday and headed to our favorite ~~sweat shop~~ nail salon for a little ~~blog fodder~~ pampering.
First we enjoyed relaxing pedicures. OK, I enjoyed a relaxing pedicure. Bev hurriedly did her homework for our writing class.

Why the rush? We had all of 5 hours before it was due.

The last time we visited this nail salon, they tortured us by forcing us to watch a Tyler Perry movie. And once it was over (Thank Gawd!), they started it over again. Of course, we could have just simply not watched it, but holy hell, they have 12 large LCD screens posted all over the joint. Besides, moving images on flat screens.... moths to a flame. Even if it's a total pile of suckage, Bev and I are watching it.

So we were not surprised to be entertained by yet another sucky, sappy film, Dear John, but were relieved to notice it was at it's sucky, sappy conclusion. Yay.

But as we were moving on to our manicures, they fired up Everyone's Fine. What has happened to Bobby D's career? Sigh

A quarter of the way through the film, Bev excused herself to the ~~broom closet~~ back room ~~to be violated~~ for her appointment with some hot wax.

Meanwhile, I had no choice but to allow my nails to dry and watch the movie. It was too late to stop. I was committed to see how this piece of poo ends. I then noticed one of the salon employees busting out his own portable DVD player. WTH? Even they hate this crap, and yet they make us watch it!

As he sat across the salon, enjoying his own film, he continuously kept turning down the volume of the movie showing on the big screens. Soon, I found myself leaning closer to the screens, practicing my lip-reading abilities, while he tinny little DVD player was turned up louder and louder.

And then suddenly it happened. The sound of an obvious porn flick filled the salon. YES! YES! YES! OHHHH OHHH OHHHHH! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!.

I spun to face the ladies sitting next to me, also getting their nails done. Not a single reaction. I turned to the little Asian guy with his DVD player sitting on his lap, smiling.

OHHHHHHHHH!!! OHHHHHHHHHHH! OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Did I take a crazy pill? Was I the only one hearing this? WTH!!!! Why is Bev missing this?! Where the hell is Bev?

Oddly enough, as it sounded like the scene was, *cough* coming to a conclusion, he finally turned the volume down.

I can't believe Bev was missing this.

Getting back to the cheesy Deniro film, which despite it's craptastic-ness, still made me cry (damnit!), I began to increasingly get worried ~~that the film would never end~~ about Bev.

But as soon as the credits rolled, Bev reappeared from the ~~broom closet~~ back room, a bit red in the face and muttering something about getting to the car NOW.

And dare say, she looked much younger.... I mean, much, MUCH younger. No, really, I mean, decades younger. So I hear. (yeah, you're going to want to click on that.)

Me And MJ

2010-04-19T15:14:00.007-04:00

LaBev recently asked us all to share our yearbook pictures... I failed this mission miserably, which is a shame because I had not one, but TWO senior pictures.

The first portrait was taken right after a rousing game of baseball with the handicap kids I worked with. It was only about 108 degrees out and I wasn't only hitting, catching and pitching for everyone, but also slinging them over my shoulder and running bases with them. Good times. By the time I made it to my portrait appointment, I was a sweaty mess. Not sweaty pretty like this:

Just sweaty, sweaty. Not good.

I later rolled the picture dice again, at a different studio, who decided I should rest my hands on a grassy platform in front of a picturesque meadow backdrop. It looked a bit like this.

But still, I'm always game for a little "show me yours", so I destroyed my basement hunting for my missing yearbook and pissed away an entire day looking through all my old memorabilia.

I had no luck finding my yearbook, but I found plenty of other goodies that will probably make their way here to Mixed Nuts... eventually.

Until then, I couldn't resist but to unveil this one now. Yes, forget my senior portrait. I turned the way-back machine waaayyyyyyyy back for this beauty.

Did I mention I was a huge Micheal Jackson fan back in the day?

And yes, I still have that jacket.

Whole Lotta Love

2010-04-12T10:51:00.007-04:00

Another rockin' weekend! Woot. But seriously, this one really rocked!

Some of you may remember that Joe and I went to see the band, Get The Led Out, last year... and they rocked!

No? You don't recall? Oh wait, maybe this will jaunt your memory...

Remember? And the lovely Lori educated us on the term mooseknuckle because she's awesome and a teacher - that's what she does.

We promised the Bevs and Team E&M that the band would not disappoint, so the 6 of us made a road trip to the House of Blues in Boston to rock out to some Led Zeppelin.

The girls rocked the back of the minivan while the guys ~~got lost on the cattle-path streets of Boston~~ sorted out directions and driving.

The show was AWESOME! GTLO rocked the hizzz-owse! If they are in your neck of the woods, go see 'em! Do it!
We already have plans to see them again in June... and we're workin' on a little after party with the band, complete with some acoustic jammin' on the beach. Hoot! I'll be playing a mean triangle!

But the best "damn I wish I had my camera" moment came after the show when Bev decided to ~~photobomb~~ join in a photo op with about 20 guys. As she struck her most awesome rockstar pose, a sea of 20 pairs of hands immediately gravitated ~~to cop a feel~~ towards LaBev, who spryly escaped, ungroped.

Rockin' friends, fabulous music... life is good.

Bing and Bong

2010-04-08T10:07:00.008-04:00

Recently Joe and I were reminded of a TV show ~~Joe and I~~ Morgan was obsessed with when she was a wee tyke. "Tiny Planets" was a show that proved that kids' programs are really written and produced by masochistic druggies.

* the main characters are "Bing" and "Bong"... I guess "Puff" and "Stoner" would be too inappropriate.
* ALL the other characters are called Flockers. For those with toddlers, go ahead and ask them to say the word "Flockers". I'll wait. Nice, huh? Now imagine your kids cheering every morning "FAWKERS! FAWKERS! FAWKERS!"
* Bing and Bong travel the universe on their couch. Yeah, they like just sitting on their couch. And eating. They always seem to be hungry.
* And as if all of their creative might was spent on naming their characters, there is no dialogue. Bing, or Bong - really I don't know which is which- occasionally coos. Their writers ROCK.
* The big one wears a ManPurse ("It's a satchel!"). NTTAWWT. Oh wait, yes there is.

But despite the show making us look like horrible parents, (" No, Mrs. Pre-school Teacher, she was called little Timmy a 'Flocker' ") it was mesmerizing. We couldn't stop watching it. And their theme song is still stuck in my head all these years later. Catchy little diddy. Flockers!

So for it's lack of any real educational value, and it's rampant drug references, one has to wonder; who writes this stuff? And moreover, how do they get it actually produced and ON TV.

After about a year, Bing and Bong seemingly disappeared from the morning kiddie programing. And from the looks of it, is now being enjoyed in Germany. Tiny Planets and Hasselhoff, they take all our crap, don't they?

Wine and Wabbits

2010-04-05T12:00:00.021-04:00

Cheers to a fabulous weekend!

Friday I had my dog publicly humiliated by dropping him off at the groomers for a full body buzz cut. When I arrived to pick him up, he walked out like a doomed dog.

"Oh Benji (uncontrollably laughing), you look so good."
"Shut up, Mala! Just get me to the car."
"But Benji, it's adora...."
"Car! Now! I don't want to talk about it. Oh, and sleep with one eye open, lady!"

And to add insult to injury, the groomer topped him off with a pink bow.
Before

And while Benji ~~plotted my death~~ sulked, I dumped him and the kids on Joe and hit the town with La Bev.

Bev and I enjoyed a deee-lish Italian dinner at a BYOW (bring your own wine - and we did!) restaurant.

Shortly after we arrived, the french-Canadian version of Betty White walked through the door. Bev and I did a double take and laughed uncontrollably. We lovingly renamed her Betty Blanche, and stealthy tried taking a picture of her, you know, to share with all of you.

Because we love you like that.

See, the queens of the sly! But damn my zoom-less camera phone! But take our word for it, she looked just like BETTY WHITE!... only Canadian.

No? Here, look through this wine glass.... see?

Moving on....

After ~~licking our plates clean~~ finishing our delightful meal, we each paid the bill...

* cue: sound of scratching record*

Yes, we each handed over our credit cards and therefore paying the bill twice! Sadly, we were too busy ~~drinking wine~~ giggling to realize this until the next morning when I woke up to realize our two entrees ( remember, we brought our own wine.) cost us about $90. It was good, but not $90 good!

So why don't we simply call the restaurant and straighten out the little snafu? Welllllllll, we kinda couldn't pass up the opportunity to fill out the comment card... and immediately flee- giggling at our own awesome-ness.

Awesome Fail!

Next we hit the movie theater to enjoy Hot Tub Time Machine. It was good and it didn't require any deep-thinking... so, it was good.
But because we started our evening rather early, the movie was done by 8:30pm. Yeah, way too early to call it a night! So I introduced Bev to an old hobby of mine from back in my broke college days; movie hopping. We decided to take in a double feature of mindless comedy, and followed HTTM with She's Out of my League.
We had some time before our second feature so we grabbed some popcorn and sat in on 10 minutes of The Crazies. Yeah, 10 minutes was about 11 minutes too much.

Fast forward to Easter.

The kids enjoyed our annual egg hunt. Beck's special friend, and former orphanage homegirl, Aidai came over for the festivities as well. It was wonderful seeing these two together again... a half a world away from where they started.
Ready, set, HUNT!

Benji had a little run-in with the Easter Bunny... oh when does the humiliation end!?

After all the Easter festivities, my Mom and I took a relaxing trail ride.

A perfect ending to a perfect weekend.

Hope you had a wonderful weekend too.

See Ya, Suckas!!!

2010-04-01T22:37:00.001-04:00

Yeah, I probably won't be hangin' around here much anymore...

Like Old Hampshire, But New...

2010-04-01T13:55:00.000-04:00

Jay-Z's song holds a special place in my heart, but this one is about my 'hood, yo!

Oh How the Vino Flows

2010-03-29T13:28:00.015-04:00

Monday again, eh? Fabulous. How was your weekend? Mine was great... so I hear.

Saturday night I hosted a soiree with La Bev + family and introduced them to another family that we knew The Bevs would really like. When their first conversation was about poo, we knew we had a match made in heaven.

We tossed the 6 kids some pizza, sugary juice boxes and a face painting kit and hardly heard from the wild banshees again for a solid 5 hours ~~while they destroyed my house~~. I'm sure the feeling of blissful freedom was mutual.

In a related story, I'm now an unemployed ~~wino~~ wine consultant. Sadly, my distributor abruptly closed shop... which leaves me with cases of wines. I know, so sad, right? Thank goodness I have good friends to help me remedy such a situation.

And remedy it, we did.

But never to be a hostess who runs out of anything, I ~~lost my mind~~ also picked up a box (gasp!)of wine... you know, just in case.

Two things I don't want my guests leaving with; empty stomachs and ~~my good silver~~ their sobriety. Let's just say, I succeed on both accounts.

In fact, sadly, it took me almost an hour to notice our dear friend E had slipped into a catatonic state in the kitchen.

What? I was busy rockin' out on the Guitar Hero.

But like all good things, the party came to an end around 1am when we all tried scrubbing our children clean (face paint + unsupervised children = FAIL). I fell asleep to the sounds of Joe scrubbing colorful little fingerprints off the walls.

Five hours later I woke up to the dreaded Carton Du Vin headache and the recollection of promising a friend we'd go horseback riding in the morning. I dragged myself out to the barn to feed the horses and get ready to ride. I'm not sure I've ever vomited on a horse, so I pleaded with Storm that I wouldn't yack on him if he'd just go all cruise control for me... oh and don't let me fall off. Deal.

Of course, I probably could have cancelled, but that's so not like me.

Luckily, the crisp fresh air and a healthy dose of Tylenol seemed to do the trick and I had a fabulous ride.

And no yacking.

(Not Really) Wordless Wednesday: Hodgepodge Edition

2010-03-24T09:33:00.011-04:00

Sorry guys, I'm cleaning out my cell phone pictures and serving up heaping plate of left overs. Mmmmmmm, enjoy.

It's nasty out today and I can't help but wish I was back in Antigua, jet skiing. Yes, that's Joe riding bitch. And after about 10 minutes of him screaming, "you're going too fast!", I dropped his ass back on the beach. Coz I'm nice like that.

Morgan channels her inner Ga.

The kids set up a trap to catch a leprechaun on St. Patty's Day. Unfortunately they got out-smarted by the little green bastard and he left this little message to them on my hardwood floor with a sharpie. Next year I'm leaving out my own trap; De-Con laced whiskey.

ROAD TRIP WITH THE HORSES!

Storm enjoys a Pony Pop, which is, essentially, horse crack cocaine on a rope.

Weekend of Water and Wind (But No Trees)

2010-03-14T23:46:00.006-04:00

Good morning! OK, not good. At least not here at the casa de Mala... My washing machine bit the dust last night (why, oh why, did I wait until I only had sweatpants left to do laundry!?). Oh, and did I mention that the warranty just ran out like 25 minutes before it gave up the ghost? On an amazingly unrelated note, while the washing machine tried relieving itself of the last of it's water, the pipe to the leach field failed, sending all that water to my basement floor. Good times.

Thank goodness I had a fabulous weekend, because so far, this week sucks! And it's only 9:30am on Monday.

Saturday night we enjoyed a wonderful evening at La Bev's and let me tell you, she made a Chicken Tikki Masala that was out of this world! SO YUMMY. We stuffed ourselves silly until we could do nothing but lounge on the couch, bloated and happy, and watch the most mindless movie ever.

By Sunday, I ~~could button my pants again~~ felt refreshed and much lighter. No, really, MUCH lighter. Like floating on air lighter.

Thank you to my Mom and Tim, who treated me to a session of indoor skydiving. It was a blast! And best of all I didn't break my neck! Yay!

Well, that's all I got. I need to go and bail some more water. Jealous?

Lost in Translation

2010-03-12T13:20:00.004-05:00

So sorry, I've dropped off the blogaroo map again lately. The good news is I'm no longer living under a massive, fallen pine. The bad news is I've been ~~dying~~ under the weather. Sinus infection and laryngitis (Bev and I would make a great singing duo!). Good times.

Anyhoo..

Recently I was shuffling through some old pictures and came across photos from my high school language arts trip to France and Spain. I could drone on and on about how fabulous the trip was; how wonderful it was to see the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre and travel throughout the Loire Valley.. oh yeah, and Spain. Heh, I don't remember so much about Spain. We hoteled near a bull fighting arena and they all spoke Spanish. I studied French and the only phrase my friends in Spanish class taught me was, "¿comprar un kilo?", which, really, isn't helpful at all. Unless you want to extend your vacation in a Spanish prison.
Anyway, despite the historical buildings, the world-famous art and the breath-taking chateaus, the most memorable part of the trip was our tour guide, Frederic LaCroix.

Sigh, that's him in the brown jacket to the far right... Pay no attention to the high-waters. Or to the sleep-deprived, goofy 15 year old seated next to him. Did I tour Europe without a hair brush? Whatev. Mala likey her sleep, when she doesn't get enough the result is, well, not pretty.

Anyway, back to the hottie tour guide. He was a college student in Paris, studying history, who earned extra money by escorting American high schoolers around Europe. I have no idea how old he was. At 15, he was just an adult in my world. Mmmmmmmm, a hottie though, nonetheless.

For some reason, the name "Fred" ~~sounded horrible when paired with anything sexy, "ohhhh Fred!" "Mmmmmmmm Fred!" YESSSSSSSSSS, FRED!"~~ just didn't seem to suit him. So I renamed him "Bob"... not that it was any more sexy, but I could remember it easily. You know, I've established I have issues remember things like names. Pshhhhh.

Well the name stuck, and the entire bus load of kids referred to him as Bob, and soon enough, so was our French and Spanish teachers, who were chaperoning the trip.

The school trip was 2 weeks; 1 week touring France, the other in Spain. Shortly into the trip, I found it more interesting taking in the sights of Bob then the billion year old churches. I wasn't the only one, all the girls were appreciating the French hottie. When not feigning interest in historical sites, we all hung close to Bob, laughing, teasing, having a great time!

Bob enjoyed the attention as well.

Unlike the average tour guide who would make the mandated appearance to point out a king's summer home or famous painting, and then somehow vanish as to not to fraternize with the annoying American teens, Bob began hanging out with us between glimpses of the Mona Lisa and Chateau Chenonceau (see, I was paying attention to more than just Bob)! In fact, his constant presence with us may have concerned our teachers, but rather than address any perceived inappropraite behavior, they chose to take full advantage of the volunteer chaperon ~~and left us in his care so they could go get rip-roaring drunk~~.

In exchange for teaching us about all the king's mistresses and other salacious tales in French history, we taught Bob how to play Uno. Soon the trip became more like a world tour Uno tournament. Bob often came to our hotel room and played with us for hours (Uno, YOU PERVS! FOCUS!). Uno was also a good excuse for Bob to ride in our sleeper car for the 19 hour train trip to Spain. Good times.

Our teachers finally relinquished all chaperoning duties to Bob and he took a group of us out to a night club where we danced the night away to Spanish techno. Yeah, that part sucked. It got worse, however, when we begged the DJ to play anything American, and the best he could come up with was WMCA. Really? Well, somehow despite being French, Bob had no idea how to do the YMCA dance. Or at least that was his story when he asked me to show him, puppet-style - you know, standing behind him moving his arms for him- which I did. Hawt, right? Inappropriate? Pshhhh...

On our last night with Bob, he knocked on my hotel room door. Instead on insisting on one last Uno match, he asked me to meet him in his room in 20 minutes. My friends all turned and stared at me, slack-jawed.

I think I made it 11 minutes before I knocked on his door. He called me to come in while he was sitting at his desk, busy writing. He invited me to have a seat, but since he was sitting in the only chair in the room, I took a spot on the edge on his bed.

He finished the letter, folded it neatly in thirds and sealed it in an envelope. He then sat beside me on his bed. "I'm really going to miss you?" he said in his strong french accent that I had tried to ~~mock~~ perfect for the past two weeks.

"Yeah. We'll miss you too". That's safe, right?

He handed the envelope to me. "Read this on the plane home."

Bob then asked if we could take a picture together. Much to my relief, he then hurried out to get a fellow student to take the picture. Whew! I wasn't sure where he was going with his photographic ambitions.

Of course I couldn't wait until I boarded the plane the following morning, and I ripped into the letter as soon as I returned to my room. Patience is not a characteristic I possess, especially when I have a hot little note burning my mitts.

Shit! I mean, MERDE! It was written in FRENCH! What in the past two weeks made him think I was actually a good student in French class! I now regretted my less than brilliant French skills as I skimmed the letter only to truly be able to decipher words like "the", "I" and "very", which wasn't very insightful at all. Tres damage! And it was a long letter. It killed me to not know what gems it contained.

On the bus to the airport I sat near my French teacher (nice to see her again!). I agonized. Of course I couldn't show her the letter, but she alone held the key to it's secrets. I had no choice but to act like a studious pupil and slyly ask her, "Madame, what does "XXX" mean?". She'd lift a suspicious eyebrow and translated for me. I'd cautiously wait a minute and then ask for another translation.

All was good until one particular phrase made Madame spin in her seat and stare at me directly, "Where did you hear that?". I stammered and mumbled something about the subway. "Well, it's disgusting and I'm NOT translating it!"

I folded the letter up and put it away, knowing it's decoding would have to wait until I got home and tried cracking it with my French to English dictionary. Sadly, I doubted my academic book would contain the proper translation. ZUT ALORS!

Please Stand By

2010-03-11T18:25:00.002-05:00

Sorry, I've been a bit.... busy.

Got Wood?

2010-03-02T18:12:00.006-05:00

As one of my funny (and insanely hot) friends pointed out, "Jilted tree attacks log cabin Ex.". Nice, eh?

But I've gotten ahead of myself...

So Thursday night I decided to treat myself to a warm bubble bath in our claw foot tub; relaxing and enjoying a good book. Ahhhhhhh, life is good.

About 11:30pm I ~~feel like a shriveled prune~~ notice the weather outside had taken a turn for the worse as the wind and rain really started to get out of control. The weatherman did mention something earlier about a high wind warning, but in all honesty, in the past few days, he had also called for snow, which we didn't get and rain storms - that were nothing more than a few trickles, so basically, we had all stopped listening to the fool. But as the wind went from a howl to the sounds of a rabid pack of crazed beasts, I decided my relaxation time was over and headed to bed.

No less than 5 minutes later, a deafening crash and the entire house rocked. Naturally, I screamed a pitch I never knew was possible and ran for the kids' bedrooms. Despite the fact the enormous BOOM came from nearby their rooms, they hadn't even so much as opened their eyes. From room to room, I scooped up the kids, threw each over my shoulder and ran downstairs.

Joe had been in the kitchen and met me at the bottom of the stairs. From the sound and shaking of the house he expected the second floor of the house to be smashed into oblivion.

Of course, it was pitch black outside, and along with the KABOOM, so went our electricity. As Joe grabbed a flashlight and headed outside, I peered up through the glass ceiling of my sunroom, "ummmm, I think that's a tree".

The storm, which later was reported to have winds of 94mph, continued and we could hear other trees cracking and falling. We decided to all bunk in our room, thinking it would be safely away from any further damage. But it was far from a rest full night.

In the morning we finally got to view the full extent of the damage. A 125" pine tree actually got up-rooted and the entire beast fell on our shed and house, right where my claw foot tub sits. But thankfully, it didn't fall 2 feet to the right, missing the shed and wiping out my beloved sunroom. Yeah, that would have sucked.

So by Saturday, Joe decided to fly the coop and use the down time for some skiing in Colorado. By lunch, the kids were ~~pissing me off with their power of annoyance~~ bored out of their minds and were rescued by Grammie and Bumpa. So it was just me, the hole in the roof and the hum of the generator.

Four days later, the superheroes from PSNH and Comcast ran new wires and plugged my house back into the grid. Oh sweet, wonderful grid, how I missed thee.

Seperated At Birth

2010-02-18T16:07:00.020-05:00

I've established the fact that I have some issues recognizing people, yeah, I kinda suck at it. Point in case, last weekend I got together with a group of close friends from High School. We try to get together every couple of months for dinner and drinks; good times. While waiting for a table a fellow former classmate happen to walked in with her husband. We all said "Hi" "how are you?" and all those nice small talk.

She's one of my friends on FB (read: High school acquaintance that sent me a friend request on a day I happen to be feeling rather generous) and I recalled she had recently opened her on spa, so I asked, "How's the spa?".

Suddenly all my friends spun their glances in my direction with the "oh no she didn't!" look. What?

"I still work at the bank", she replied, confused.

My homegirls quickly told her how nice it was to see her again and grabbed me by the elbow and led me away like I was their elderly, senile Grandmother.

That wasn't Angela, was it?", I said sheepishly.

"No Mala. It was Melissa. We went to school with her for 4 years and she looks nothing like Angela."

"Don't they both have brown hair?" I replied.

That's what I get for trying to use my power of recall. Seriously, from now on I'm just sticking to the 'smile and wave' in all social situations.

Anyhoo, while Angela and what's-her-face, may not look a thing alike, the following celebs are often confuddling me.

I suffered through both The Watchmen (Bev LOVES this movie!) and Alvin and the Chipmunks (both I and II!) and I wasn't sure if starred the same guy. Bev assured me, it's not. The Ratmunks features Jason Lee, looking his best, while The Watchmen stars Patrick Wilson at his most UN-sexy. But you see it, right?

During my extensive search for a picture of Alvin and the Chipmunk Jason Lee and not the My Name is Earl Jason Lee, I came across this:

Pshhhhh, I don't see it!

Moving on..

When did Ethan Hawke morph into Kevin Dillon?

Speaking of Kevin Dillon, did he make a deal with the devil? The man doesn't age. Wasn't he in Platoon like 40 years ago?

And just as an aside, I like Kevin way more than Matt Dillon. While on the set of Wild Things, Matt asked every girl there for their phone number. And since we were all playing high school girls, many of them were actually under 18. Hello, Jail bait! When he asked me for my number, all slick and cool (gag), I assured him that at 22 years old, I was obviously too old for him.

But here's two guys I'd give my number to in a heartbeat! And have. OWWW!

I totally heart Everclear's Art Alexakis. And Dr. Drew makes me wish I had had an interest in drugs. Sigh, or not.

And last, but certainly not least... is it any wonder I dig Bradley Cooper?

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday - Memory Lane Edition

2010-02-17T15:35:00.004-05:00

While rifling through a basement full of old photos, looking for a prom picture for Cary for his List of the Day's up-coming Prom Picture-palooza, I came across ~~a million embarrassing pictures with tons of blog-worthy stories~~ a picture from my first horse show.

I won first place riding a cousin's former horse, "High Top Tippy". And yes, I had really long hair.

Hearts and A Cute Little Cherub

2010-02-14T20:56:00.013-05:00

Hope everyone had a happy ~~over-rated, consumerist, singles-awareness day~~ Valentine's Day.
Joe asked me if I was doing anything special for him for Black Sunday. After moments of deep thought, I said I wouldn't consider holding a pillow over his face tonight while he slept. But just tonight. Tomorrow, well, fair game.

Heh, I'm romantic like that.

But enough of sappy holidays that make me want to yack. I've been up to my ears in heart business, and I'm not talking about the kind with little edible messages.
Apparently my Doctor ~~wants to buy a third vacation home~~ thinks I may have a little issue called arterial fibrillation which, technically speaking, is a wonky heart. It also can cause a stroke, like the one I had a few years ago.
After the stroke, I went through a bunch of tests. One of which required a camera to be ~~shoved~~ inserted down my throat and filmed some sort of horror flick of my heart, which resulted in me loosing my sense of taste for five months (boo!) which lead to losing 20 lbs (YAY!). Unfortunately, after reviewing the footage, the director wasn't thrilled and wanted to re-shoot. Hellz-to-the-no! Plus my ~~blood-sucking~~ health insurance company said if I had one more test, a big guy named Brutus would show up at my house and club me to death. Or something like that.
By then I was also tired of being a human pin-cushion anyway so I cancelled all future tests and decided to just get back to the business of living.

Flash forward several years and now my Doctor has recommended that I revisit the issue and referred me to yet another cardiologist. Last month I had to wear a 24 hour heart monitor. If you've never had the pleasure, it looks like this.

And no, the zebra print boob-tube isn't required.
But the wires, 2lb recorder with fanny pack, and 40 yards of tape is. It's as comfy as it is fashionable, trust me. But besides looking like a terrorist, you can't take a shower and sleeping with it just plains sucks. In short, longest frickin' 24 hours ever!

But now my sadist of a Doctor wants me to be hooked up to the heart monitor for a month! A month of being C3PO! Are you kidding me?! Of course he wanted me to get wired up right before my vacation. Yeah right! Who wants to try to make it through airport security with me? Anyone? No one, eh? Thought so.

Besides, can you imagine the tan lines?

So the Doc scheduled me for a special Valentine's wiring. But before my appointment I called to get a grand total on how much all this fun is going to cost me. Actually, I called several times, over 3 weeks, and the bastards never called me back. Finally I get a call... from the hospital to pre-register. Not only did the lady have no idea I was waiting for a call with a total$, she had me down as a 78 year old widow with no living relatives! What the friggin'-frack? Oh and they even had my phone number incorrect despite the fact THEY JUST CALLED ME. Thank gawd they're just super gluing electrodes to me. Trust me, I'll have serious second thoughts if they come after me with a scalpel!

Several calls and nearly an hour being transferred or on hold later, I finally spoke to someone in billing regarding the cost. The following is the abridged version of the conversation:

Me: So how much is the heart monitor?
Dingbat: $460 Me: A day? Or for the month?
Dingbat: A day. I think.
Me: You think?
Dingbat: Yes. Maybe. I don't really know.
(silence)
Me: So what you're saying is it may cost me $460 Orrrrrrrrrr..... $18,000.
Dingbat: yes
Me: But your not sure which.
Dingbat: Right
(longer pause)
Me: That's a big difference between $460 and $18,000
Dingbat: Yeah, it is.
(FRIGGIN' CRICKETS!!!)
Me: So if you don't know which it is, who does?
Dingbat: I don't know.

After muttering something about the state's 7% unemployment rate, incompetent shit-for-brains, and recommending she connect me to the bitch who writes up the bills and mails them to me because that lady seems to have bionic super powers, I hung up with still no clear answers.

The day before my appointment I made one more attempt to get a price. This time I got the head of billing. I won't recreate that conversation but let's just say she was a passive-aggressive bitch that repeatedly called me "madam" and couldn't fathom why I would need such information and in the end, still couldn't give me a price.

I ended the day with a call to her manager and another to my doctor to let him know I am no longer his patient and why.

I've decided that going on with the business of living was the right decision and I'm not being dissuaded from it. The Doc had already been talking a bunch of smack about putting me on high octane blood thinners that would prohibit me from ever riding again. Hello?! I own a horse farm! In addition, Dr. Buzzkill said no more coffee, no more alcohol, and definitely no more fun. Seriously? Why the hell can't I be restricted from housework, annoying husbands and whining children! FML!

But before you think I'm jumping ship because of ~~no more drinking~~ the "negative effects on my quality of life", Doc's words, it's not. I feel in my heart of hearts (ha!), that this will just be more testing, more expense and not a single definitive answer...again. And frankly, I have better things to do.

Besides, when your time's up, your time's up. There's no gettin' away from it. Even if your sleeping safe and sound in your own bed.

Caption This

2010-02-13T23:18:00.003-05:00

My cat spends a lot of time like this. Should I be worried?

Okay, go!

Back

2010-02-11T13:31:00.020-05:00

ahhhhhh, life is sweet.

Howdy Hey, lovely peeps. I'm baaaaack. We had a fantabulous vacation cruising around the Caribbean. And since I'm buried under Mount St. Laundry, I'll let the pictures do the talking, k?

Feeding "Tucker" and his ducky friends, but moreover, pissing off the neighbors.

Hanging out on Ft. Lauderdale beach.

Enjoying our balcony on the Dawn.
Was this the picture Joe said I could NOT post under any condition?? *shrugs*

The counselors at the kids' club seemed to enjoy painting Beck every night. Staggering back to your cabin with a tired kid that needs a bath before he can go to sleep... I think they hated us or something.
a kid-size buffet. This is the munchkin version of winning the lotto.
My little fish.

Dominican Republic

Check out our ride. Safety.. pshhhh! I laugh in it's face.

Tortola

Antigua

While on board, we met two couples that each had 2 kids around the same age as Beck and Morgan. The 12 of us became quick friends and spent much of the cruise together.

Aya and Morgan Table for 12

Barbados

St. Kitts Beck made a little friend in St. Kitts

ANTM!

The crew at NCL take freestyling to a whole new level.

And speaking of freestyling, Joe decided to jump on stage and bust out some stones (Rolling Stones, that is) with one of the ship's bands.

Well that's it. Thanks for sitting through my family vacation slide show. More chips? I promise, I'll get back to my regular scheduled blogging as soon as I find the laundry room floor.

Scarred! Scarred For Life!

2010-01-21T21:30:00.002-05:00

Oh those crazy Canadians, eh?
I miss those Kids in the Hall.

Snow Day

2010-01-18T16:26:00.008-05:00

There's no better reason to do only the bare minimum than a snowy day.
The horses certainly enjoyed the fresh snow.

The leaning tower of morgan.

Meanwhile, Morgan spent a good part of the day practicing to be the next Duff Goldman.

A little Cake Boss on the TV for proper motivation.

People You Meet in Hell

2010-01-14T10:09:00.009-05:00

OK, not really in Hell, but people you come across that make you feel like you're in Hell.

I'm currently at my son's gymnastics. He's off flipping and bouncing while I ~~try to ignore the world around me and enjoy the pure bliss of not having the shit bugged out of me~~ watch him proudly. Unfortunately, there's a group of parents standing 10 feet from me who are droning on and on about how their parenting skills are far superior than everyone else. Since I rather perform my own dental work than join in their hen house banter, the sound of their self-righteous voices tests my control to not yell out "shut the hell up, you windbag dolts!".
Right now, they're discussing how one of their fellow chatty-cathys, who happens to be absent today, allows their kids to watch too much TV, too much violence, too much sweets...blah, blah, blah. They've collectively decided they must all limit their children's contact with this parent's children. I hope they're also making mental note to never miss a class and therefore leaving themselves open to be the recipient of the others' disapproval and gossip.

Oh good, they've moved on to their incredibly high home values. Fabulous. Bunch of a-holes.

I don't know if ~~I'm just pms'ing~~ there's a cosmic malfunction, but I seem to be encountering all sorts of jerks/weirdos/annoying people lately.

The gym seems to be a mecca for dimwits. And I'm not even talking about the blockheads that spend their entire workout grunting and sweating on stuff. No, there's a woman there that bugs the hell out of me to the point that I sorta feel guilty about it. She's not disruptive in any way, but nonetheless makes me want to put a stick through the spokes of her exercise bike. She's there every.single.time I'm at the gym. She's there before I arrive, she's still there when I leave ~~10 minutes later~~. She rides the bike or the elliptical like Tiger after a slutty cocktail waitress. I mean, sparks flying off the thing... for hours on end. But the thing is, she's a skeleton. Seriously, I always shield the kids eyes while walking past her in fear that they'll have nightmares of skeletor on the treadmill. I know I do.

I guess I should feel sorry for her or something, but I don't. Seriously, stop already. Go eat a Big Mac, and supersize it! I actually have things I need to get done daily and therefore can't literally run my ass off at the gym six hours a day. I know I'm ~~going straight to hell~~ probably wrong for saying this, but beyond it probably being unhealthy, her efforts are wasted; she'd riding the hein-train... toot! toot! You just can't outrun ugly.

Oh, I am evil. Still love me?

And then there's the guy at the pool. Again, I swear he lives there. No matter what time we go to the pool - mornings, evenings, weekends - he's there. We call him Milton. And yes, he looks like this:

Now picture him in a bathing suit.

And stop gagging.

Milton is always by himself, spending his pool time blatantly staring at all the bathers through his 1 1/2 inch thick glasses. After watching a couple endure a good twenty minutes of his company in the hot tub, where he sat uncomfortably within their personal space, staring without a word, I've made it policy to skip all hot tub time in the presence of Milton. One of these days I'm going to risk certain death to my camera phone and try to bring it into the pool and sneak a picture of him. The things I'd do for you, my peeps.

So how you doin'?

I'm Taking It Personally, Steven!

2010-01-06T13:26:00.006-05:00

I've been a long time fan of Aerosmith. What can I say, I dig 'em.
Growing up just two towns from their Sunapee homes, you'd think I would have eventually run into them. Nope.
In middle school, one of my classmates was BFF with Mia Tyler and she'd often spend time at the Tyler's lakeside home. So I lived vicariously through her tales of romping around the rocker's compound, which included an incident of spotting a naked Steven coming out of the shower while playing in the master bedroom. Yeah, I made her tell me that story over and over again. What?
Fast forward a few years when I was living in Florida, working as a pro-audio rep. We got an emergency call that Aerosmith was playing in the central Florida and needed an amp pronto! I was more than eager to volunteer to make the delivery (and I'd bring the amp! OH!). Calls were made, arrangements arranged and I ~~cleverly hid~~ finished the rest of my work so I could ~~race off to be the Bad Boys from Boston's knight in shining vinyl~~ make my employer proud and deliver to one of our clients in a professional manner. Unfortunately, just before I ~~peeled out of the parking lot like a fugitive~~ departed for the 3 hour drive, word came that one of our dealers, local to the venue, had delivered the amp. Bastards!
A few weeks later I had wasted an entire day shopping at the local mega mall. On the drive home the DJ announced the Steven Tyler had just been spotted shopping for shoes at the very same mall. FAIL AGAIN! WTH!

Now you may be wondering why I don't just buy a ticket to a show. Oh, but I have. At least 4 times, and each the show has been CANCELLED! One of my friend's scoffed at the thought that the band has cancelled every show I've had tickets for, "they've never cancelled any show I've gone to". So together we bought tickets... and they cancelled. Hate to tell you I told you so, but...
She insisted it was a fluke. So a year later we bought tickets...again. And then Steven got laryngitis. Cancelled AGAIN! My friend then vowed she would never let me know when they toured again in fear that my very knowledge of Aerosmith performing would cause Steven to, oh I don't know, take a header off the stage. Oh.

But then a few months ago I found out Steven was coming to town to do a small, intimate benefit show at a local theater. He'd play a few songs, tell a few stories, share some video clips of the band over the years and field some Q&As. I wasted no time telling my friend, who was psyched that I was willing to get up early and beat down the theater door to get tickets. and I wasn't totally offended when she asked me to consider camping out for the tickets but refrain from actually planning on attending the show.
So I got to the theater 2 hours before the doors opened and tickets went on sale. Once at the ticket window I slipped the teller an extra $50 and landed us third row seats! Sweet! $650 later I had hopes that this time I'd actually see Steven Tyler. After all, I'd been trying for over 20 years and it would be nice to see him live before he turns to dust, which, by looking at some pictures, won't be too long.

By now, you know where this is going.

Yup. It was announced the other day that the show has been cancelled. This is my shocked face. Something about rehab, blah, blah, blah. Seriously, does he need to be sober for this gig? I don't think so!

I'm officially never ever buying tickets to anything Areosmith ever, ever again.

Guess it's back to Lake Sunapee if I want a chance to catch a glimpse of Steven Tyler.

or maybe not.

Ma Vie En Jam-Jams

2010-01-04T19:40:00.015-05:00

Happy 2010!

I officially dub this year, "The Year of the Slack" and thus far, I have been ROCKING it!

Yeah, yeah, I know we're only on day 3 or 4 ( <---- see! SLACKER! Sure, I could hunt down a calendar, but that would require getting up. Pshhhhh!), but so far I've spent most of it cozy and warm in my PJs! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let me rewind, back to a time in which I was showered AND dressed.

The good times started a day or so (it's a blur now) before New Years when I took Morgan to go get her hair did for the big night. She decided to have her hair dyed hot pink. And since we have no dance recitals, weddings, graduations or funerals planned in the next few months I figured 'what the heck'. She's totally rocking the pink! And if I hadn't taken a vow of slackerhood, I'd have a picture of the finished product. So you'll have to take my word that it's super cute.

Next, it was my turn in the stylist's chair. But by then, sadly, my attention span had split with my motivation and I gave the new hair dresser carte blanc to do whatever she wanted. Yeah, you know that was a mistake. The good news is she didn't go hot pink, the bad news is I should have said something like, "give me a soccer mom haircut and I'll cut a bitch."
Lesson learned.

The following day, Morgan and I met the Bev for lunch and a visit to the nail salon. How embarrassed was Bev when she didn't get my text that it was "National Dress Like a Terrorist Day"?! Unfortunately it was so cold in the nail salon that I couldn't bare to take off my jacket and show off the package of brats I had strapped to my chest to complete the look. Shame.

Sadly, the only one who took notice of all the electric wires attached to me we're the poor abused gold(???) fish. One of them played dead (French Gold Fish?) while the other seemed elated that his life in the nasty algae-ridden tank would soon come to an end.

Bev came up with the brilliant idea to make her annual New Year's soiree a pajama party. Genius! Bev and I have partied in the new year every year together for at least a decade. And as always, good times were plentiful. Here's a few pictures I may or may not remember taking.

Then we went home and remained in our PJs for the next 2 days.
And it was awesome.

Overdue TMI

2009-12-27T20:17:00.006-05:00

I promised a tale of TMI if my peeps donated to my Pie in the Face efforts to give the orphans in Kyrgyzstan a Christmas to remember. Actually I promised a little TMI if ya'll got me to the $300 mark. But you guys rock and put me to my goal of $500! For all you wonderful, big-hearted and sexy mofo's, this one's for you!

But in particular, this post is dedicated to Frank, not just because I'm sure he'll enjoy the confession-ridden, fleshy goodness of this post, but because he's awesome... and about 41 kids on the other side of the planet would certainly agree.

I've been really trying to search the archives in the ol' noggin for a good TMI story and it was much harder than I anticipated. Our dear friend Jenksy wows us with incredible adventures of TMI every Thursday (and oh how I count down the week days). He makes it look so easy and yet I was coming up empty handed. I was quite disappointed with myself, and at the same time a bit proud that I had no tales of vomiting on a date or peeing myself at a gas station (NTTAWWT). I started to think, "hey, maybe I'm far more classy than I give myself credit for! Why, I'm downright lady-like!".

And then I came across an old picture.

While in college in Fort Lauderdale, I worked and lived at a riding stable. It was awesome; 20 acres, 51 horses and a 2 1/2 bedroom house to myself. Granted, the house was kinda a piece of crap and I had to kick my former roommates out and living where you work really means you never get a day off (never mind ever calling in sick), but apart from that it was great. And I also got to move my horse down with me. Awesome.

Rent on the old crap shack was $400 a month, board for my horse was $100 a month and grain, vet and blacksmith was extra... and of course there was the expensive of college and books too. Oh yeah, and food, electricity, phone... blah, blah, blah.

Unfortunately my job at the riding stables paid $201 a week. Actually, it paid $250 a week but my boss took out $49 a week for taxes. Sadly, for two years he must have forgotten to pass along those with holdings to Uncle Sam because I have a big ol' blank spot in my work history with Social Security and by the end of my service at the farm, the IRS was all over my boss, who decided to solve his financial woes by hanging himself... but I digress.

So $201 a week. I worked 6 days a week, weekends were 12 hour work days, but they gave me the flexibility I needed for school. And I really did love the job and my co-workers.

But you don't have to be a mathematician to know I was po! Happy... but really, really po.

And then I learned about a little thing at a local bar called "Dressed To Kill" Fridays. It was simple, woman came dressed to kill, and lady with the most killer outfit, or whatever, went home with $500.

Lucky for me, my best friend in college always dressed like a hooker. Her daily outfits consisted of skin-tight pleather with no lack of skin exposed. But it worked for her as she started dating our Audio Engineering professor... and had a 4.0 GPA. But again, I digress.
So she took me shopping at a stripper clothing store (and in Ft. Lauderdale, there's plenty of both!). She helped me select an outfit fashioned primarily of vinyl, with matching boots, and I was in business. Oh wait, that sounds wrong. No, not that business.

So Friday came around and we melted into our plastic-y outfits (hey, it's Florida! Vinyl doesn't *breathe* well) and headed over to the local dive. We didn't really know what to expect. Would we be required to do a cat walk? Perform a talent (shut up!)? Or answer questions like 'how would we bring about world peace?'?
Nope. In fact we ordered a drink (the first and last drink I ever paid for at the dive) and played Buzztime interactive bar trivia for a few hours until the owner announced that the lady in the red vinyl shorts had won! CHA-CHING!!!!!! Easiest freakin' money EVER! two weeks worth of pay for hangin' with my homegirl and enjoy all the free drinks the bartender offered us. I collected my envelope of cash and went right home ~~to peel off my sticky outfit~~ to sleep.

And every Friday night I'd show up again, play trivia, a game or two of darts (after a few weeks I earned the name 'dart girl' - damn those guys would always be dropping their darts. I was always nice enough to pick them up) and enjoy free drinks. Around 11pm I'd go home with my $500 cash.

Easy money, baby!

What? You expected (more) sex? scandal?

Would you settle for a picture then?

You Made It Happen

2009-12-27T18:05:00.005-05:00

I hope everyone had a fabulous and merry Christmas. There are hundreds and hundreds of children in Kyrgyzstan that are enjoying the wonders of the season because of your generosity. Please go visit this site to see the magic.

And this is where I'd post my own pictures from our Merry Christmas... if I hadn't dropped my camera and shattered it. And then it played a little payback at me by some how deleting every picture. Every. single. picture. Including every Christmas picture.

And a memorable video of Morgan flipping out when she opened her favorite gift.

Sigh. It was awesome.

I Do For You Baby

2009-12-21T21:21:00.003-05:00

On occasion I indulge in a little, well, indulgence, by visiting my local nail salon, OK Nails. Yes, I know, they don't exactly set the bar too high with that name. But it's cheap and you don't need an appointment so it's all good.

And yes, this is the same nail salon that plied Bev and I with cheap pink wine and painted flowers on as many nails as they could before we slurrily protested (after all, they're only $4 more).

Over the years I've learned to just get a pedicure when asked, otherwise this is the ensuing conversation:

OK - What I do for you, baby?
Me - Manicure please.
OK - you want pedicure too?
Me - (it's middle of winter, even I don't see my toes, never mind anyone else). No thank you.
OK - Why you no want pedicure? (all the other nail techs now stop and stare).
Me - Ummmm, I just don't. But thanks.
OK - Ohhhhh, you no have a boyfriend, baby?
Me - What?
OK - Why you no have boyfriend?
Me - Ummmm, I...I'm married.. What does that have to do with...
OK - Ohhhh, you no have boyfriend. You have pedicure, you get boyfriend, baby.
Me - I'm not sure my husband would appreciate that.
OK - Ohhhhhh, you afraid.
Me - Of a pedicure?
OK - You get nice boyfriend.
Me - *sigh* fine. I'll take a pedicure. Where's my crappy pink wine?

This lady has obviously visited OK Nail's sister shop.

To Stuart

2009-12-17T17:06:00.000-05:00

I thought of you when I saw this... but in a good way.

No "L"

2009-12-16T22:16:00.001-05:00

T'was a Week Before Christmas...

2009-12-14T20:02:00.005-05:00

Some people hang their stockings by the chimney with care...

Beck prefers hanging his undies on the door.

Next time he may want to take them off first...

or not.

That's Going on the Blog

2009-12-08T22:06:00.003-05:00

Here's a little sign I spotted today while sitting in the customer waiting area at my local Toyota dealership:

In case you can't read it:

Attention customers

Due to our poor water quality, we are unable to wash cars at this time. Currently, our water leaves spots and residue on the vehicles and at times, leaves the vehicles with a less than satisfactory appearance. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause for you and we are working diligently to correct this problem. We appreciate you patience and as always, thank you for your business!!!

Oh, and enjoy the coffee.

Memory Lane Monday

2009-12-07T19:52:00.006-05:00

While riffling through the old file cabinet for a shipping envelope (which I never found, if you care) I came across an old copy of Pro Sound News magazine, a periodical for the recording industry.
In a former life I used to work in a Pro Audio Rep firm. It was an awesome gig. Among other things, our job was to make sure recording artists got their hot little hands on the products we represented. Some of my more memorable clients were Mike Score of Flock of Seagulls, who I always questioned where his accent went, Rob Van Winkle who I was always polite to and never laughed at... mostly., Emilio Estefan, who I mistakenly hung up on each and every time he'd call, but luckily he was close friends with my boss, and I was ~~cute~~ otherwise good at my job, so ~~I wasn't fired~~ we were good.
We also made sure our stuff was available for credit on album recordings. I clearly recall Carlos Santana calling in for some equipment on an album he was recording. I could hardly control my laughter! Santana!? Like he'll ever have another song on the radio! Yeah, Supernatural went on to sell 15 million copies, 9 Grammy awards, Album of the Year... blah, blah, blah. Did I mention I was cute?

Anyhoo, one of the perks of the job was traveling to Los Angeles to attend NAMM which is a huge industry convention where all the music artists, producers, engineers, ect could come out and play with all the newest equipment. My duties at NAMM were to be there, which I did...mostly. Beyond that I'd make sure our clients were happy and that I get certain industry people to come to particular events. Oh, you may remember that I'm missing that gene that allows me to recognize people , well it's made even more fun when I'm supposed to recognize people I've never met. Luckily Slash and Ace Frehley were easy to spot. But it took me half a dinner with Eric Burdon before I had a clue who he was. Luckily he was a good sport about it, after all I was only 22.

So one of my other duties at NAMM was to show up for photo ops. And show up I did...but just barely.

Here's a page out of that Pro Sound News. I had no idea this little photo shoot was going to end up in full color in a national magazine. MmmBop! there I am right there under the picture of that little girl from Hanson.

What? It's not like I look like I may have spent the entire night out in LA and only returned to my hotel that morning to grab my nifty little name badge, does it? I think this is the day I took a little nap under the desk at the Mackie booth. What? Totally respectable people have found themselves needing to catch a few Zzzz's under a desk now and then! Right Bev?

Good times indeed.

Go Elf Yourself '09

2009-12-06T17:03:00.000-05:00

Happy 300th post!

Pie Oh My!

2009-12-06T11:12:00.004-05:00

You know I love ya'll when I post the most unflattering video ever. That's right, this is what you get on a Sunday morning after a lively evening with ~~several bottles of wine~~ friends, sans make-up and my hair totally un-did. But hey, I'm about to get a pie or two in the face so why bother getting dolled up, right?

Admittedly, the kids took it easy on me because ~~I threatened them with eternal ground-ation~~ they love me. Joe stopped the taping though just before I got Beck pretty good.
Oh and I didn't give him a bloody nose, the kids decided they wanted to be Rodolph this morning. Nice.
Thank you again to everyone who donated to make Christmas possible for 100 kids in Kyrgyzstan. All together 2129 orphans will get to celebrate a day they won't forget. You guys are awesome!!!

High Highs, Low Lows & everything In Between

2009-12-02T22:09:00.002-05:00

I'll start with the highs...

I want to thank everyone who donated to bring Christmas to some very special orphans in Kyrgyzstan. When John first put out the challenge to raise $500 I knew it was a BIG goal. Even with the promise of taking a pie to the face if I reached the $500 mark, I knew it was a lot to ask. So I felt fairly safe from suffering from the pie.
But you guys really stepped up to the plate and the donations came in. You have no idea how thrilled I was to see my tally at $75 on my first day. $75!!! That's 15 kids getting a day they'll never forget.
And you guys didn't stop there!
By the last day of the challenge, Thanksgiving night, I was jumping for joy to see my total was $275! I never imagined we'd make Christmas possible for FIFTY-FIVE children!
With a few hours left in the challenge I put the word out on Facebook. I said if we could get to the $300 mark, I'd share a TMI story with y'all. Samsmama, donning her Superwoman cape, made ANOTHER donation and passed along the challenge to her FB peeps.
When I went to bed my total donations were at $295. I was overwhelmed by the amazing generosity of my bloggy and FB friends. It was an amazing feeling to enjoy as I drifted off to sleep.

Oh course, it may have also had something to do with feeling safe from flying pies and sharing embarrassing tales.

Anyhoo, the next morning I checked my final total so see whether or not I made it to the tell-all $300 mark.
I was shocked when I saw my final total..... $500!!!!!!!!!!

$500!!!!!!! That's ONE HUNDRED orphans' lives touched!!!!! ONE-HUNDRED CHILDREN who will enjoy a special day because of the YOUR generosity!!!!

I'm still in awe. I'm still overwhelmed. I'm still so full of gratitude for your generosity. You guys are awesome. I can not thank you enough.

So I'm working on my Tale of TMI plus recruiting someone old enough to hold a video camera so that I can do this pie thing in one take, mkay.

And unfortunately the lows...
Please keep Lori and her husband John in your hearts and prayers. I'm sure you all know Lori, she's the cute little perky commenter from Lori Does MD. They had to say goodbye to their beautiful little boy John Matthew just 8 hours after he was born. I still feel so shocked and heartbroken for them. It has taken me a week to even write this post. Matthew is beautiful and so very loved and his short little life has made such an impact on so many.

Tiny Angels

Tiny Angels rest your wings
sit with me for awhile.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".

Author Unknown

A Thanksgiving Story

2009-11-24T21:58:00.003-05:00

Beck came home the other day from school and had to share the Pilgrims' story of Thanksgiving.

Thanks to Windows 7 I can't use my video editing software. Bastardos! So no subtitles for those of you who don't speak Beckanese.

I'm not sure how historically accurate his retelling is, but I'm sure it's true that at some point the poor oppressed British did shout at the king, "No Way Hor-Hey!"

Happy Turkey day everyone!

Flying Wallendas-es

2009-11-22T20:44:00.008-05:00

I need to type this post while I can still move my finger tips.

Perhaps it's my desire to draw a thick black line through another item on my bucket list or my Peter Pain-ish need to never grow up (and for that matter, to fly) but I joined a aerial performance group today and started training on the trapeze and aerial fabric.

I figured since my previous experience in this field starts and ends with a number of visits to circus, as a cotton candy-eating spectator, the instructor would start me out easy. You know, maybe some stretches, maybe some simple dangling from the bar, terra firma just a few inches below.

Yeah. No. Not so much.

My first meeting with the trapeze bar had me doing a pike which starts with you hanging upside down with your arse and neatly pointed legs over your head. Oh, and hold it. Keeeeeeeping holding it.... Oh, that burning and shaking is just your muscles trying to flee from your body. You'll get used to it.

Next the instructor had me swing up into a seated position. ahhhhh, sitting! I can do this! Then drop back, let go and hang from my knees. I probably did something like this on the monkey bars as a kid, but I don't remember it... perhaps I fell. That would explain a lot.

Anyway, I'm dangling upside down by my knees. Sadly, despite the discomfort of all my blood rushing to my head, this would prove to be the easiest part of my training. From there we did some wretched arm lifts, some leverage moves and finally standing on my toes on the wee bar. Oh and did I mention, all of this is supposed to be done with grace?

Grace! Moi? Seriously, what the hell was I thinking?

And just as the skin on my hands started to peel off my palms and I fought back every urge to weep, we moved onto the fabric.

Oh sweet, soft, cozy fabric.

Ummmm, not really.

Lesson number one is of course climbing the long swaths of cloth. This task is accomplished by wrapping the fabric around one foot, pulling up and gripping the fabric against your other foot. And repeat. That rug burn sensation? You'll get used to that.

Oh and it's stretchy, so no matter how hard you work and struggle, you still only find yourself about 1/2 inch off the ground. Sonofa!

Next we worked on a wrist locks which requires a method of wrapping the fabric around your wrists. From there you flip upside down, wrap one leg around the fabric, and dangle your head and, neatly pointed, free leg down to the spinning Earth below. Then, release and gracefully flip back down to a standing position.

By this point all my shoulder muscles were plotting revenge, my arms were at least 5 inches longer than before we started and my abs were so sore I considered giving up breathing. As my feet touched the ground I realized two things; getting my wrists out of the fabric knots would be neither easy nor graceful. And I was dizzy. Really, really dizzy. Suddenly I found myself looking like an epileptic, drunk marionette. Dangling from my wrists I stumbled, staggered and spun. I couldn't get my balance, my head was spinning and the possibility of throwing up was all too real. I think my slightly greenish complexion and profuse sweating paired with my increasing panic over the situation clued the instructor to untie me and call it a night.

So I survived my first training session without falling, crying (loudly) or throwing up. But my muscles have made it very clear that they're pissed.

I don't think they'll be much happier tomorrow.

Here's a little inspiration. Pink can do all this and carry a note (and a pastie)! Yeah, she rocks.

(skip the first two minutes)

23

2009-11-19T21:45:00.007-05:00

You guys are awesome!

So far 23 orphans will be enjoying Christmas this year because of YOU! 23 kids will get to experience a day full of fun, food, gifts and most of all, love and hope. 23 children who otherwise have nothing, will know that they matter, that people care.

I wanted to share a message from John, who has dedicated his life to helping the people of Beck's birth country:

It is more then just a Christmas Party, it is bringing a Hope that we are counting on to, in some cases, sustain life ....to give boys like Muksat reason NOT to try to commit suicide again.....

I try my best to simply tell the story here at actofkindness, and leave it to you to decide what to do with it, but today... I am asking please please please help us.... you see when this next week is over, and the challenge is done... we need to sit down and decide... who is NOT getting anything for Christmas this year.....
Please don't make us have to make that decision ....

Thank you to everyone who has logged onto John's site and donated money. I am overwhelmed by your generosity.
$5 will allow another child to experience a day full of wonder and hope. It's not too late! Let's not leave any child out.

These folks do amazing work. Thank you John and company!

Wordless Wednesday - Another Trip to the Beach

2009-11-11T09:02:00.006-05:00

Hit Me With Your Best Shot!

2009-11-08T19:27:00.005-05:00

I've been offered a challenge I can't refuse.

John Wright, who does absolutely wonderful things for the children and other needy folks in Kyrgyzstan (Beck's home country), has challenged us to take a pie to the face and raise money so the orphans in KG can celebrate Christmas.

For just $5, an orphan in Kyrgyzstan will be able to experience a wonderful day they will never forget! Just $5! That's less than a cocktail with dinner or one stop at Dunkin Donuts, but it will mean the world to a child who has nothing.

I'm so blessed to have Beck home, safe and sound, but what if things didn't work out like they did. Would he still be sitting in the orphanage, with no family and no hope? I thank God he's not, but there are still many who are. John Wright and his band of merry miracle workers shows these children that people do care and he gives them hope.

For every $5 donated another child gets to feel the love and wonderment of the season. For just $5 an orphan gets to know that someone cares.

So what do you get? Well, besides the warm and fuzzy feeling of knowing you rock, and my eternal love and admiration, I vow to take a pie in the face, complete with pictures, and maybe a video, if I reach my goal of $500. And because I love you all so much, maybe I'll take requests.

Please visit John's website and click the paypal button and sponsor a child for Christmas. Make sure you write my name in the paypal message so they know to whom to aim the pie at.

I thought the guys who frequent my blog may need additional inspiration to head on over and donate, so here ya go...

Mary Louise Parker says, "Sponsor a kid or I'll beat you with this rolling pin."

Showin' Mine

2009-11-07T21:33:00.004-05:00

The Fantabulous Bevalicious ~~shamed~~ dared us to bare all on Friday... our desks that is. (relax you pervs!)
Of course Bev has nothing to hide. She has a neat and tidy workspace. Everything in its place. I know this first hand because I occasionally drop in after hours and write inappropriate messages on her phone message pad. What?
My "workspace" on the other hand consists of a cubby. Yes, a wee cabinet of a desk from which I manage 2 businesses and more importantly, do all my blog-stalking. Add to it's obscene wee-ness, the fact the kids use it as a dumping ground for every single painting, drawing, homework, notes from teachers and other pieces of crap they don't feel like finding a proper place for and there's no way to avoid disaster.
Joe often complains about how messy my "desk" is but I'm always quick to remind him that he has a real desk (you know, with writing surface and no doors!) here at the house, PLUS a 400+ sq ft office (WITH ANOTHER DESK - Yes, I have desk envy), PLUS his assistant has her own office with... wait for it.... a real frickin' desk!!! I HAVE LESS THAN 2 SQUARE FEET OF SPACE!!!! GET OFF MY GD BACK!!!!!!!

*breath* *breath*

Whew, sorry about that. Ummmm, I guess I may have some issues there.

Anyhoo, with out further ~~warning~~ delay *gulp* I present to you my *cough* desk.

OK, STOP SCREAMING! I know, horrible.

Alright, I'll give you a tour. Seriously, don't stand up, we're not going far.
First, my lovely Dell... my old Dell which still possess all my e-mail addresses and website favorites so I'm sorta blackmailed into continuing the relationship.
Let's see, the thing on the keyboard, that's a bill I need to pay. Because it's sitting on the laptop that's essentially my priority file. The pile of crap to the right of it is stuff my kids leave on my "desk" or things I'll get around to...but not right now. We'll call that my "low priority" file.
Let's see, the crap stuck on the doors is the stuff I need to be able to find for a later date, but can't put into the "low priority" file cause that shit just gets lost.
What else.... oh my moisturizer; two kinds, because sometimes my skin just feels dry. And when I want to moisturize, I want it now.

So there you have it. my craptastic workspace. *sigh* it's kinda depressing.

Maybe next time I'll just flash ya.

Some People Are Just Askin' For It

2009-11-02T19:23:00.012-05:00

Seemingly, the Blog Gods have taken notice of my bloggy malaise and lack of posting.

...Despite having a fabulous Halloween.

... and good times carving pumpkins.

...and sordid tales about this guy (OK, not really)

I just haven't been moved to mentally wrangle up a tale and work it out in a grammatically correct fashion.

blah.

So today, the Blog Gods got together and heaved a big, steaming pile of blog fodder right on my lap. And boy did it stink! Let me explain...

I'm naturally a chill person. I don't care for drama; I'm a live-and-let-live kinda gal. I pick my battles and I often bite my tongue to avoid conflict. I hate conflict. Seriously, it takes a lot to get my blood boiling, but once some asshat decides to take it there, oh it's on!

A few things you should know about me when I've been pushed out of my peace-lovin' love nest:

Like a pitbull I will go for the throat... and I do NOT let go. One of us is going down...it's not going to be me.

I get LOUD! Yes, if you're going to push me to be pissed off, EVERYONE will know it.

I don't believe in hitting below the belt or responding in a juvenile way... but I will.

I get the last word. Chances are you started it, it's only fair that I end it. Got it?

So I went to the chiropractor's office today with Beck. When we arrived, the waiting room was pretty full so Beck went straight to the corner that contains a basket of toys and I took a seat on the opposite side of the 10X10 room. Beck got busy playing nicely with the three other kids cramped in the corner. I watched them as the 4 kids stacked blocks and giggled amongst themselves... you know, how kids can naturally just start having fun with other kids. Good stuff.

Soon a man enters the waiting room and glares at everyone, spots the kids and "huffs". He sits with his back to the kids but constantly shoots nasty looks over his shoulder.

Mind you, I'm the first person to get annoyed by unruly children whose parents have better things to do than to mind their own offspring. Moreover, I'm pretty strict about how I expect my children to behave in public. I REFUSE to be one of those parents.

That being said, these four children were playing very well together. They stayed in their little corner, stacking blocks, occasionally *gasp* giggling.

The Cranky Old Bastard (COB) leans over and asks the guy next to him, "Who thought they could bring their kids."

I take a deep breath.

The doctor comes to the door and calls his next patient when COB says to him, "why don't you take the kids. They're out of control."

Oh GAME ON ASSHOLE!

Me: "Actually, those kids are behaving just fine."

COB : NO THEY'RE NOT! THEY"RE BEING ANIMALS!

Me : ANIMALS!? They're just kids, playing nicely.

COB : Well, this is a doctor's office!

Me: Yes, a Doctors office with a basket full of toys for the kids to play with while their waiting.

COB: I don't come here to listen to kids.

Me: I don't come here to deal with cranky, OLD, bitter men!

COB: Well they're being annoying

Me: Really? Because you're being annoying. They're kids. What's your excuse?

COB: (turning again to the other guy) Don't you think these kids are out of control?

Other Guy: Actually, they're playing just fine. They're well behaved. They're just kids.

Meanwhile the other parents are quickly ushering their kids out of the room, probably in fear that I was about to whoop this old fart's arse!

Then this other dude says to COB: "You're a very rude man, How dare you talk to this woman you don't even know. They're just kids! Get over yourself."

... and then he splits.

COB: Well I don't care, these kids are being too loud!

Me: No moron, they're not. they're no louder than the Muzak being piped into this room. (OK I didn't say Moron... but I was thinking it. No I wasn't. I was thinking much worse)

COB: Well that's your opinion.

Me: Yes, and apparently that of the rest of the room as well.

COB : Well I don't want to hear your opinion.

Me: (laughing) Well then you might have considered keeping your mouth closed and not sharing your opinion. But since you chose to run your mouth, then you're getting my opinion. It would be wise for you to shut up now...unless you want me to continue.

COB: (sensing I was batshit crazy and that the veins popping and pulsating on the side of my head and neck may indicate that I'm just getting started, COB averted his eyes in defeat, and mutters) unbelievable.

Me: Excuse me? What's unbelievable? The fact you are a grown man pissing and moaning about some kids playing and minding their own business or because someone won't put up with your garbage?

crickets...

c'mon! Do it! Breath another G-D word asshole! I'm just getting warmed up! I sat there, blood swishing in my ears, jaw clinched, shaking... just waiting for him to say another word, a cross-eyed look.... another "huff". He sat motionless, eyes on his shoes.... for the next 15 minutes.

Once in the doctor's office, the chiropractor apologized profusely. I recommend he give the bastard more than a spinal adjustment.

Some people just need their asses handed to them. Today I was more than happy to gift wrap!