Update on the Potluck

My friend, Lori, reminded me of the perfect Potluck story that I wish I had remembered at the time of the original post.

We used to get together quite a bit in Phoenix and share food, drinks, kids, pools, and great times.  One of our friends who shall remain nameless to protect her grossness, used to make a great cornbread salad and was making it one night for a get together.  As she was stirring, she realized she had lost a fingernail somewhere in the cooking process.  "Oh well," she said.  OMG.  SHE DIDN'T EVEN PRETEND TO LOOK FOR IT.  This is why it is never ok to eat the potluck even with your closest friends.  Lori and I politely passed on the salad that night.  EEEWWWWWW. 

I had another friend who had just started to date this guy and invited him over for a home cooked meal.  He was eating his salad, when he took something out of his mouth and said, "Um, I think this belongs to you."  It was her PURPLE polished fingernail.  They ended up getting married so I guess he wasn't totally freaked out.  A good test though.  If you're not sure about a guy, put your purple polished fingernail in his salad and see how he reacts.  You just might have a keeper.

Overheard in the Charlotte Airport (or maybe it was the Providence Airport or Springfield Airport or Detroit Airport)

Woman: Would you like something to eat?

Man: No

Woman: Are you sure.  I will go get in line.  I can get something for you while I'm there.

Man: I told you that I don't want anything to eat.  Now, go stand in line if you want but I'm not eating.

(said simultaneously)

Me: What an asshole.

Robert:  Did you hear her nagging at him?

This is that whole Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars or some such nonsense.  I'm sure that woman was just trying to be nice to get his lazy ass something to eat as she's probably had to do for the past 30 years.  I'm also sure that he was totally unaware that he probably had a 5 hour flight ahead and won't get so much as a peanut on the flight.  If I were betting, I would guess that she probably stopped at the airport shop and bought him a snack in case he gets hungry.  Oh, to have a wife.  I could put up with a little nagging to make sure someone always had snacks for me on the plane.  Since having children, my selective hearing is fine tuned so I think I'm all set.  MAIL ORDER BRIDE: Looking for someone to cook, clean, run household, bear and raise children, do handyman work, be creative, bake the office potluck, and bring in half of the household income.  Not to mention "wifely duties."  Geez, how do they get away with it?

The office potluck - Ew

If you are like me, you loathe the office potluck.  You have no idea how clean these people are or if they spit in the food before they bring it because they hate everyone in the office.  You can't tell but if you think about it too long, you can make your mouth water like you're going to puke.  Robert is a HUGE germaphobe and this stuff makes him crazy.  I have some of my baking treats left and asked him if people were going to be in the office today so I could send them with him. My training starts when I get back and I don't want anything left in the house. Oh yeah, that's when he mentions they are having a pot luck today.  Now Robert fancies himself quite the cook, so I'm sure these people are expecting some delicious Italian dish made with homemade meatballs, etc.  I said when were you planning on telling me?  Before or after you started to head to the garage.  He was just going to throw someone a $20 and have them get a pizza.  Don't you hate guys like that?  They bring the plastic cups while you go home after a 14 hour day and still manage to whip up a delicious dish to share.  Lucky for him, I have my 50% success baking items ready to go.  Here was the final tray.  Not bad for 15 minutes notice.

What looks like cheese is actually lemon squares, plus toffee, cranberry bread, and chocolate dipped pretzels.  I could tell you I always have this much stuff lying around ready for an office potluck at a moment's notice, but I'd be lying.  I promise I didn't spit in anything, and that annoying nose drip seems to be clearing up, thanks for asking. 

 

Snow pic from the other day. 

I'm going to be in Missouri starting tomorrow with no Internet access and not near enough red wine.  AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH  Will try to post what I can.  It's usually pretty good material.  If not, Merry Christmas and I hope everyone's holiday is filled with priceless memories that you will carry with you forever.

Christmas Spirit alive and well at Albertsons

I just returned from my daily trip to Albertsons, where I had the most amazing display of Christmas Spirit bestowed upon me.  I was in the Express Lane with 2 people behind me and had started to put my items on the belt when April, the checker, asked if I had under 15 items.  I said that I thought so.  She said, "It is clear to me that you have more than 15 items and you need to go to the next lane."  I'm always somewhat shocked when crap like this happens.  So I gather up my items, wait for the people behind me have to back out so I can get through, and move to the next line.  After waiting for 7 minutes, I unload my items and count how many I have.  Effing 14.  Bitch.  Merry Freakin Christmas.

SNOW DAY!

The kids are out of school today because Las Vegas had a SNOW DAY!  Never mind that we did not have even one flake stick on our side of town.  The last time that Las Vegas had a snow day was 1979.  Crazy!  At our other house in Henderson, there was 6.5 inches. 

Might this be a lesson to those of us who have procrastinated all their final shopping, packing, and various salon appointments until the last minute.  Suddenly, the kids are out of school.  Gasp!  I'm paying Nick to watch Taylor while I go do some of my errands.  She loves it because he plays with her.  Doesn't even matter to her that he's getting paid and part of the deal is that he has to entertain her just like its a real sitting gig.  She just likes to hang with her brother.  Kind of sad. 

Update: We did get to play in the snow on Tuesday and has a snowball fight, snow angel, and requisite tiny snowman.  I'm just a loser and didn't take photos.

Hell has frozen over

Well, it's official.  Hell has frozen over.  It's snowing right here in Sin City.  Not too exciting for those of you who live in the Midwest, North,  East, or Mountain region, but we're pretty excited.  I would take a picture but it might be hard to pick out the flakes.  We all know it won't stick but visions of snowmen are in the eyes of every small child trying to concentrate at school today.  You know, it's funny because we get all excited when it rains, or best yet, snows.  It has only snowed here 3 times in the 5+ years I've lived here and only produced a snowman once.  It was a said, little pathetic creature standing only about 6 inches high, but we made him.  We love it when the weather changes.  NO MORE FREAKIN SUN, PLEASE.  Some of you would probably love a full-on sunny day in the 50's. 

I did some more baking over the weekend.  I'm at about a 50% success rate.  I'm a pretty good cook, but that baking stuff is more scientific.  Case in point.  I was baking some Rosemary Butter Cookies, put them into the oven and then decided that precise moment was a good time to take Nick to the movies.  I was back in 25 minutes but they were black.  I have no instinct when it comes to baking, but I am convinced it must be done alone with no distractions.  My lemon bars tasted good but there is a crack the size of the Grand Canyon running down the middle.  I think my New Year's resolution might be to take a couple of baking classes.

I also have a new triathlon I'm getting ready to train for with a very serious purpose which I will explain later.

Hopefully, I will take a post a photo of my snowman.

Holiday Traditions and Smelly Washers

I have the link to the magazine article that was the reason why my Christmas decorations were up at Halloween.  There might be a bit of creative license involved so don't call me a liar (Vicki).  My memories of family traditions are my memories, and while not completely factual, are mine nonetheless.  If you're bored and enjoy a bit of fiction, the link is Summerlin Magazine.

Now to the important stuff - the smelly washer.  For those of you not keeping up, the front loading washing machines have a very annoying problem of making towels smell mildewy.  So, I tried this product Smelly Washer.  Doesn't work.  I will admit if you put it in with your towels, they smell nice.  Downy does the same thing.  So, I would save your $20.  I took apart the washer as best I could and bleached the thing within an inch of its life.  Works fine until you use it again.   I think I know the problem, though.  The seal is so tight on the front loading machines so the water doesn't leak that it traps all the water in and creates mildew.  EEEEWWWWW  Best solution I can come up with other than buying a top loader is to leave the door open. 

Why I Never Had Pets - Chapter 2

This is the typical, I didn't want the pet, I didn't own the pet, yet I take care of the pet - COMPLETELY.  No one seems to notice if he pukes on the floor, is out of food or water, has snuck out of the house, or has fingernails longer than Howard Hughes.  The latter of which drives me crazy.  I hate to hear his little nails pulling the loops out of my carpet when he walks.  Now, never having owned a pet for more than a month, nail clipping is a little intimidating.  Mostly because there are so many rules.  Don't get close to the quick or they will bleed, blah, blah, blah.  So, I always made Robert do the clipping.  It is, after all, HIS CAT.  Since he's been working 80 hour weeks for the past 2 years, Enzo has been going for a mani/pedi whenever he starts to ruin my carpet.  Since I've been consulting unemployed, we are all cutting back.  The cat's nail appointment was the first to go.  Enter getting sucked into TV ads.

PediPaws.  I know you've all seen it and WANT IT BAD.  It's one of those things that makes perfect sense like the EpiLady.  Remember how in 1986 we all thought this was a great invention?  The electric spring metal coils swirling around to grab onto the hair and rip it out by the root.  One by one.  Oh, I can still remember the pain.  My hat is off to anyone who could muster up removing more than a quarter-size area.  For those of us who tried it first on the bikini line, well let's just say it still makes you cross your legs to think of it.  So, PediPaws was on Walgreen's billboard for $19.99 enticing me to come purchase it while I passed every intersection.  In Las Vegas, the city council won't rest until there is a drug store or Applebee's on every corner.  I gave in and bought it.  I figured it was going to save us money in the end, (insert shopping justification here).  The thing is disgusting.  First of all, it smells liked burned hair and there is nail dust flying all around like in the Asian nail salons.  I think he was expecting a sparkle tip or special design.  I followed the directions, but all I did was sharpen them to a fine point.  Now, he really does look like Howard Hughes.  It is like filing them with a rotary sandpaper tool, so it takes forever.  Think of how long it takes to clip your nails as opposed to file your nails.  The cat is pretty tolerant as evidenced by his Halloween costume, but he's not going to sit there for 30 minutes and smell burned hair while I FILE HIS NAILS.  I also know he would be a terrible tipper.  So, I got out the clippers and attempted to clip his nails.  I did so well that I plan to give him a french manicure later tonight.  I'm going to speak in another language while I do it so he won't know if I'm talking about him, but I'm going to smile a lot. 

Help!

We are planning to make Italian food for dinner on Christmas Eve and I could use some help with ideas.  Does anyone have any great recipes for Italian food, ideas for side dishes, salads, etc.?  I have a million cookbooks on the shelf but thought I might try you guys first.

Thanks!

Smelly Washer to the rescue

For the past couple of months, I've been discussing with anyone who would listen and where it was appropriate, the problem with my smelly front-loading washer.  No one I spoke with seemed to have the same problem, and would look at me like I smell my fingers and don't shave my armpits.  My towels were coming out with a certain grossness to them, and no it wasn't because I didn't move them along to the dryer in a timely manner.  It also didn't make my clothes smell, just my towels.  So, I went on the offense.  I ran the cycle with bleach in hot water with nothing in it, and that seemed to fix the problem.  Until you ran your next load of laundry.  The smell was back.  You can leave the door ajar so it dries out completely, but more than once I almost impaled myself running by there with a load of groceries and getting caught by the door.  Also, I am a bit incredulous that I spend that much money on an appliance only to have to rig it not to smell.  The Internet to the rescue.  One of my favorite blogs I read, adbpbt, had an entry on just this problem http://www.abdpbt.com/?p=315.  I guess I'm not crazy after all.  I guess I do shave my armpits. 

The product is called Smelly Washer and I have some on order.  Will let you know the outcome.  Glad none of you have the same problem...

Ugh

I was having Thanksgiving at my house until about 5 minutes ago when I realized that my dishwasher is broken.  I'm not playing Little House on the Prairie, thank you very much.  I guess we will be schlepping the turkey around town.

Symbol of Death vs. Mascot of Mensa

We were watching football on Sunday, which actually means cooking, doing the laundry, homework, reading the paper, etc.  I haven't actually sat down and watched a football game in 13 years.  It is no coincidence that Nick is 13.  During my chores, I glance up and notice something in the tree in the backyard.

Creepy!  This is a great photo and doesn't show that there is another house about 20 yards behind him.  WE DO NOT LIVE IN THE WOODS.  We only see pigeons and blackbirds.  We live in the city.  What was he doing here staring at us FOR HOURS?  I will tell you what he was doing.  In almost every culture, this guy is the symbol of death.  When I was selling slot machines, some genius in Australia designed a game with an owl on the reels.  The Indian casinos said there was no way they were bringing an owl into their property and we had to redesign the game.  Can we do a little cultural research?  Anyway, I've been a little jumpy when the phone rings or when I'm driving in the car.

I've done my own bit of research and found out that Greek mythology associated the owl with wisdom.  They are the unofficial mascot of Mensa.  Better than death.  They are about the only culture that believes the owl is a positive symbol.

I also found this website on Symbolism which said:

If an owl has visited you, an incredible gift has been bestowed.  Also, keep in mind that animals are only called to those who share the same energy.  In other words, you hold within you some of the very same symbolic attributes the owl represents.

So does this mean that someone in my house shares the same symbol of death as the owl?  A grim reaper of sorts right here in my own home.  How comforting.  I'm sleeping with one eye open.

Shopping Deals

Most of you are very savvy shoppers and probably know about these sites but want to pass along in case you've missed them.

www.dealcatcher.com

This site compares products, has printable coupons, rebate info, etc.  The site is very easy to use.  A year ago, I wanted the Garmin Forerunner 305, the very best product in the entire universe that is a heart monitor, GPS, calorie counter, etc.  The running store and Best Buy were selling it for $375-$425.  I found one at www.dealcatcher.com for $189 plus free shipping. I bought quite a few Christmas gifts through them last year as well.  Highly recommended.

The other is www.tgiblackfriday.com which shows all the ads for Black Friday and the deals they will have.  No need to hop up early to go get a paper on Thanksgiving!

Turkey for Me and Turkey for You

Let's eat turkey in a big brown shoe.

My hell week trade show is over.  I can't tell you how many people I kissed, shook hands, felt their ass, and ditched completely over the past three days.  When you've been in the industry as long as I have, you tend to collect people.  The most common are the ones where you say, "Call me and we will do lunch soon where we can really catch up."  Translated into show talk, this means, "I will see you next year and as soon as you walk away I won't have another thought of you cross my mind until I see your face at the show next year."  It is also a time to see the absolute worst in people.  You take hundreds of sales people and casino folk making way too much money, away from their families, IN VEGAS, and see how they behave.  There must be something in the water that causes amnesia because 95% of the men forget they are married.  It's an odd phenomenon.  It is also an industry dominated by men so the occasional girl gets quite a bit of attention.  I'm not complaining as it is good for the old ego, but come on.  News flash:  I didn't want to sleep with you the first 8 years I knew you, and guess what, nothing's changed. I didn't go out and party at night and managed to sneak out of the show in the late afternoons.  I got a couple of bites for jobs, so fingers crossed, it was worth it.  Hopefully, the wives of all the pigs were out having girl's night and getting hit on by random, young, cute men.  Karma.

So, Thanksgiving is just a few days away and I still don't know what I'm making.  I went to the store yesterday to get lots of everything but still no firm plan.  Looking at it closely, I have mostly starches.  Well, doesn't that say everything about my eating choices in a nutshell!  I think I should add a veggie or two.  Just for looks.

Trying to come out of retirement

I have a gaming trade show this week and will hopefully be finding work to bring me out of retirement, so postings will be nil.  Not that I have been knocking them out, but don't look for much.  Think good thoughts!!

In the interim, I am looking for new ideas for Thanksgiving.  New recipes, something that worked great for you, decorating tips.  Oh, never mind on the decorating tips.  I had to bypass Thanksgiving decorations and move right on into Christmas.  Each year, my husband brines the turkey and I'm just not sure about it.  Any good ideas for the bird?  Are you stuff the bird or not?  Do you eat that part?  What in the world do you do with the neck, because I throw it away.  I try to do it without taking a good look and imaging him all put together.  Ew.  Any ideas will be great!!

You don't have your Christmas decorations up?

I took Taylor for a little retail therapy Monday because she was depressed about getting a flu shot.  Yup, life is hard.  Anyway, they were playing Christmas music at the store.  IT'S VETERAN'S DAY!  Seriously, isn't 6 weeks just pushing the friendship?  I love Bing and the boys as much as the next person, and I even listen in the car, but not 2 weeks before Thanksgiving.  I'm already knee deep in the holiday myself and it's making me crazy.

Bear with me, this is long.  My friend was out for a holiday party a couple of years ago, liked my Christmas decorations, and mentioned it to a photographer friend of hers that works for a local magazine.  So, she told her editor and they asked me to decorate the house for a piece on the holidays.  Here's the kicker, the print deadline was November 5th, so everything had to be done by the 3rd.  So, we frantically took down the tombstones and threw up the wreaths.  I will post all the photos as soon as I receive them from her, but here are a couple.

Ok, so you can't see much and the lighting isn't great.

 

Each year, I really enjoy putting up the Christmas decorations.  I like to look through all the ornaments, reminisce, be creative, and I like the way the house transforms.  This year, not so much.  It was a chore, and no one helped.  Who could blame them?  No one was in the mood. Everyone is still sifting through their Halloween candy.  I also decorate with tons of fresh greenery, wreaths and poinsettias.  News flash for those of you who might be thinking of doing this next year in hopes of freeing up a weekend in December: They don't have fresh poinsettias and wreaths in early November.  So, I had to use fake.  Ew.  Nothing worse then a fake poinsettia except the kind with all the glitter on them.  I was Grandma on steroids.  The only excuse for the fake poinsettia is to avoid your animals eating them because they are supposed to be toxic.  Trust me, the cat ate at least two whole plants last year and is still here to talk about it.  It didn't even make him sick.  I'm convinced that cat will still be around in another thirty years.

Now that the decorations are up, it's time to gear up for the holiday, because the decorations are up.  Isn't that how it works?  I've been pressuring everyone about what they want for Christmas and have given ideas for myself.  Please write for a complete list.  I was getting stressed that I wasn't further along in my shopping when I'm reminded that it's just mid-November.  With the decorations and the music, and the travel plans, and the shopping lists, and the Christmas eve food plans, and the shipping dates, and the outdoor lights to be hung, it certainly feels like Christmas.  Thing is, I may have already worn out the holiday.  I've decided not to turn on the lights on the trees or move around the Elf on the Shelf, or do any more stressing about it until Thanksgiving.  Two weeks of stress-free Christmas coming up.  I will say, however, that I'm looking forward to freeing up my Thanksgiving weekend to shop instead of putting up all the decorations.  I'm so ahead of the game. 

So, you slackers, Thanksgiving is only two weeks away.  LET'S SEE THOSE SANTAS!!  Stress yourself out about Christmas before Thanksgiving, just like me! 

Baby (Gravy) Vanessa and Sofia

Everyone is doing well and going home from the hospital tomorrow.  Too cute!!!

Welcome Baby Gravy to this crazy world

Email from Krys:

Vanessa Barrett Blades was born at 9:07 am 11/12/08---Mom and Dad and Baby Nessa are doing well. We arrived at the hospital at 7:42 and baby was born and hour and a half later! She was very eager to make her arrival!

That Krys!  Her babies are always early.  Not like the rest of us that had to suffer through 2 1/2 weeks of lateness because we had to move when we were 8 months pregnant.  No doctor is really all that excited to be a part of your blessed event when you show up in overtime.  I had Taylor in Arizona and there was one hospital that covered all this sprawl of young family expansion.  I think there were 30-40 babies born daily at that hospital, so they had this crazy system for induction.  Everyday past your due date, you could call the hospital at 9:00 am to see if they had room for you to come in to be induced.  For 2 1/2 weeks, there was no room in the inn.  I would hang up the phone and cry.  One day, they called me and told me I would need to be there in an hour if I wanted a spot.  She was born an hour and a half later.  She just needed a little push.  Note to self: don't move when your're 8 months pregnant.

I can't wait to hear all the details like how big she is, if Krys had time for an epidural, if she has hair, and what sister Sofie has to say about the whole deal.  Nick was three when Taylor was born and he used to tell people that this one was too loud and we were thinking about taking her back for a new one that was a little more quiet.  Nice.

Can't wait to meet you Vanessa!

Election Night

I hope everyone is getting settled for an evening of election results.  We can't wait!  We are having Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches, and I'm having mine wit.  For those who don't know what I mean, a trip to Philly is in definite order. Nick is really excited and has been memorizing the election map for weeks.  I remember 8 years ago during Bush/Gore making him go to bed at 11 pm without the result of the president.  Little did we know the little guy would've been up for days had we let him stay up for the result.  I'm not sure we still really know the truth.

The thing that sucks is that when you live on the west coast, no one gives a crap that you're not off work, school, or finished getting an interview on a prominent Nevadan before we start to get election results.  By the time we pick up our sandwiches, it could all be over. 

I've read about the long lines at the polling places.  Everyone in my district must be big losers because I didn't wait at all.  In and out in 5 minutes!

Enjoy the returns!  I hope your five-year-old goes to bed knowing the next President of the United States!

Halloween

I know I promised some pictures of Halloween yore, but my scanner broke and I didn't get it fixed in time.  I will still post as they are quite enjoyable.

For now, I will tell you about our day.  Taylor bought a costume for $35 and was such a cute Red Riding Hood.  The kids were supposed to wear their costumes to school on Thursday, and so off she went in her Hood outfit.  Now, those cheap costumes are not meant for a full day of school plus PE.  Needless to say, she refused the costume when it was time to dress Halloween night, which made me totally crazy.  I finally decided to get over it and she pulled together a hippie from the 70's(ish).  Whatever.  Nick was a scary clown and conformed with the face make up and was really scary looking.  Enzo wasn't happy with his costume.

Earlier in the day, we bobbed for apples as we have doing since they were 2 and felt comfortable with them putting their head in a bucket of cold water.  Nick was convinced we were using a smaller bucket this year.  I finally had to convince him that he was just getting bigger.

For dinner, we had Dead Man on Worms.  It is actually just the meatloaf winner from Loaf-A-Palooza shaped like a dead guy with blood coming out over pasta.  It was a big hit and I highly recommend it before trick-or-treating next year.  I think next time I will pipe mashed potatoes that I might tint a blood color. 

Happy Halloween.  I'm putting up my Christmas decorations today.  Will explain later.

Biking to 41

My birthday was yesterday and I want to thank everyone who called, emailed, or sent a smoke signal.  Turning 41 is only marginally better than turning 40. 

On Saturday, my friend Tonya and I entered our first bike race.  They don't call it a race, but trust me, these people are competitive.  There was a 25-mile, 50-mile, and 118-mile ride.  We did the sissy ride of 25 miles.  It was our real first group ride so we were a little anxious about falling and causing an ESPN highlight of the week.  We did great, made excellent time, didn't make fools of ourselves, and plan to do the next one for 50 miles.  The night before as Tonya was tucking in her kids, her 10-year-old wished her good luck.  The 8-year-old then said, "I don't know why you keep entering these things.  You never win."  You know, she's right.  We never win. The thing of it is, I don't even think we're getting any better.  Every Sunday we ride off into the sunrise, do our 20-30ish miles in the same time that we did it in February when we started.  If we never win and we don't get any better, why do we do it?  I think it's because we genuinely enjoy it.  It is really the first sport that I really enjoy and not just endure.

Usually, I only like the sport for the outfits.  I mean, is there anything cuter than a tennis outfit?  I have several just hanging in the closet if anyone is interested.  I liked shopping for the clothes more than the sport.  It was also somewhat painful.  You've heard of tennis elbow?  By God, they aren't kidding.  In my 3 month tennis career, I have developed a permanent elbow injury the likes of which do not enjoy picking up a heavy bag of groceries.  After biking, the only thing that hurts is my butt.  I'm using this as an excuse not to lose any of my extra padding back there.  I can't imagine having a skinny little butt with no cushion after 30 miles through the desert.  My biggest complaint other than the butt?  The biking outfits.  Tell me, who looks good in padded spandex?  Who comes up with these outfits?  They are relatively functional but do all those colors really go together?  Are they trying to avoid cars, animals, or the opposite sex?  I don't know if you've priced this ugly stuff, but a good biking shirt can cost $90.  Shouldn't a woman step in at some point and design something attractive?  I know, in sport you're not supposed to be worried about your appearance.  Trust me, you see me in a pair of biking shorts and you would bet money that I don't care how I look when I leave the house.  Of course, nothing is further from the truth.  Maxine instilled a hard and fast rule of "never leaving the house without your face on," which I adhere to most of the time.  Except when I'm biking, and then I guess I'm just having too much fun to care.

Saving a buck in these trying times

While I'm home for the day unemployed consulting, I never turn on the TV.  I know if I turn it on, within 5 minutes, I will be sitting in front of it eating a bag of chips and waiting until 5:00 when I can have a glass of wine.  It's a slippery slope.  I made an exception the other day because I had 8 loads of laundry to fold and iron, or contemplate ironing.  Nothing can slow down the hands of time while folding and ironing in a quiet house by yourself.  I watched Rachael Ray who everyone in my household finds incredibly annoying.  Seeing her face on the front of the Triscuit box sets off intense hating on Rachael Ray at my house, and there might be mutiny if they found out I watched her show.  I find the whole EEOV thing annoying, but there was NO WAY IN HELL I was watching Kathy Lee on the Today Show, and it was too much trouble to flip past the first 5 channels.  I think Kathy Lee could possible be my nemesis.  I can't believe they gave that woman a job again.  She is scary bad.  One of those judgmental, disgusting, obnoxious, critical, disparaging women who give the entire population of women a bad name. I hope they have a special place in hell set aside just for her.  Not a big fan.

Thankfully, Rachael had quite the line up for me.  In addition to having on Olivia Newton-John, who just turned 60 and looks fabulous, she also had a woman who had written a book on shopping and cooking from The 99 Cent Only Store. The book is called The 99 Cent Only Stores Cookbook: Gourmet Recipes at Discount Prices and the entire thing was very interesting.  This woman bought wine at the 99 Cent Only Store, for how much?  Yup, 99 cents.  She does 70 percent of her shopping at the 99 Cent Only Store, including meat and vegetables.  She seemed so convincing that I went yesterday to check it out.  I always giggle when I walk in the door thinking about asking the people who work there, "How much is this?  Or this?  Or that over there?"  It's all 99 cents.  That's funny.  They probably never hear that.

First bit of bad news. The Nevada stores don't carry wine.  It must be our Puritan background or the backlash by the Baptists.  If I knew for sure that it was worth it, I could drive to California to purchase 99 cent wine.  I'm not afraid.  Pam told me about this box wine that she really likes called Black Box Wines.  I remember the Beringer box wine from days of yore.  Problem was you never knew if you were almost out.  This economy has thrown my wine drinking into a state of flux.  You know how it goes.  One minute you're on the Internet shipping 90+ wines from around the world, then you think the screw off cap isn't so bad, then the box wine is taking an exorbitant amount of space in your refrigerator, finally to spiraling into the 99 cent wine.  Circling the wine drain, all in the name of saving a buck while unemployed consulting.

The other disappointing area of the 99 Cent Only Store was the Gourmet Section which this author raved about.  The shelves were empty.  Maybe I went to a crappy one.  I'm going to try it again at another store in a more upscale neighborhood.  To say that the clientele were a little scary at this location is an understatement. 

In the checkout line where they keep all the little sundries that you forgot you needed and can't live without, they had a pregnancy test.  Hmmm.  First of all, it's not usually like you keep a stock on hand.  It seems to be more of an item you purposely set out to buy, so would you think to go to the 99 cent store or would you go to Walgreens?  I'm just saying.  Also, would you trust the 99 cent version?  I remember the "Pee on the Stick" versions seemed really expensive to me.  I bet these make you go out and kill a rabbit and wait for a couple of weeks for the result. 

I'm going to try again today to go to another 99 Cent Only Store, mostly because it's next to the liquor store and I'm out of wine.  As I mentioned, I planned to buy it yesterday for 99 cents.  Stupid Baptists.

2 Apples - Same Creepy Tree

One of my best friends in the universe, Lori, used to throw AWESOME Halloween parties when we both lived in Arizona.  What I remember of them anyway.  Several of those parties will be featured here over the next week, much to some people's chagrin.  Taylor was messing around with a wig over the weekend still trying to decide what she will be for Halloween and took this picture.

It reminded me of a picture I have of her father.  This was from Lori's Saturday Night Live Party where he was Linda Richman from Coffee Talk.  We'll have coffee and talk, no big whup.  I think he really enjoyed it. 

You can see the family resemblance, right?

Martha sucks

I'm going to be writing about Halloween over the next couple of weeks, past and present, because it is one of my favorite holidays.  It is one of the only ones I can stomach since I got divorced and only because I insist that the kids be here.  Unlike Christmas when I spend the entire day crying after they've gone to be with their Dad. I digress. 

In the car, because I am a geek, I listen to quite a bit of the Martha Stewart channel because they talk about cooking, decorating, and girly stuff.  I can only do this when I'm in the car alone.  One day, she has one of her minions making Halloween cupcakes.  I love the cupcake.  Not so much making it, but it is my favorite of the cakes.  I love Halloween and I love the cupcake. I'm on board.  How fun to have Halloween cupcakes.  I go to the Martha Stewart website to look at the cakes in question and decide of the four Creepcakes, I'm going to make the Mummy Cakes.  I decide that I'm making the entire thing from scratch because my husband always gives me a hard time about using box anything.  The cupcakes turn out great and I just briefly look at the Swiss Meringue Buttercream Frosting recipe and notice that it takes 10 egg whites, sugar and butter.  I had the egg whites because I buy them in the big containers because we eat them every day, and have butter and sugar.  I finish the cupcakes and start in on the frosting.  IT TAKES (ARE YOU READY) 8 STICKS OF BUTTER.  THAT'S 2 POUNDS.  THAT'S 4 CUPS.  THAT'S 6,400 CALORIES.  THAT'S 704 GRAMS OF FAT.  The recipe says it makes 28 cupcakes, so that is 228 calories per cupcake and 25 grams of fat BEFORE you add in the cake part, and the sugar in the frosting. THAT'S JUST THE BUTTER PART. That means that I'm not having one.  The Betty Crocker store-bought kind is half the calories and doesn't leave a layer of lard on the roof of your mouth.  I move forward and make the frosting which takes 25-30 minutes.  I get out my decorating tips to use with my baggies but they keep breaking.  Need to wait until tomorrow to get a proper pastry bag, so I put the lard in the refrigerator which the recipe clearly states is acceptable.  Went to the store today and took out the lard out to bring to room temperature where I have to beat it an additional 5 minutes to bring it back to fluffy.  Looks like butter to me.  Can't imagine how this could get fluffy again after the egg whites have broken down.

 

But they did.  Didn't make it any less gross, though.

So, I started decorating my mummy cakes and this is how they turned out.  All 8 of them.  Really cute, but sick.  I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't continue to make my little butter creations.  It was a little more like butter sculpting than cupcake making.

 

I have to go back to the store for the Betty Crocker frosting because this stuff is freaking me out, and I don't want the ruin the rest of the cupcakes.  I guess you need to leave them in the fridge because otherwise, they will melt.  Ew.  Anyone have a good recipe for frosting?  Better than Betty Crocker?  Seriously, what is Martha thinking?  I bet you don't see her popping a stick of butter in her mouth disguised as a cupcake, no matter how cute they are.

Why I never had pets, Chapter 1

I was the last of 5 kids in the house, so by the time I came around, the party was over.  There were no more pets, there was no dance lessons, there was no gymnastics, there was no doing anything that someone hadn't done before.  The family had a dog for 13 years, and that was it.  The dog was long dead by the time I came around, but I got to see pictures. I had the occasional hamster, turtle, wild rabbit, etc. but no dog.  Now, why would the woman allow a wild rabbit that I found in the backyard but not allow other pets?  That rabbit unfortunately jumped ALL the way down the stairs and woke up really stiff the next day.  When I remarried, I came with 2 kids and he came with a cat.  I'm really allergic to cats but we have found a way to coexist over the years.  I have constant nasal problems, runny nose, and watery eyes, and the cat get to put his ass all over my house.  Not having grown up with children and pretty much being left alone for 13 years since Robert worked all the time, Enzo is extremely tolerant.  One of my favorite things to do is dress him up.  He doesn't care for it so much but I LOVE IT!  So, his Halloween costume this year is a Turkey. 

I only had time for the head but Halloween is still a week and a half away.  Fun!

WHERE WAS YOUR KARMA??????????

Thanks for the Karma!

They won last night in a very exciting game which means that they play again Saturday.  So, everyone cancel your plans and resume your positions!

It's 3 Games to 1

For those of you who don't know, October is serious business at our house.  In 2003, Robert and I took a lovely trip to the Northeast in October where we went to Providence and took in Water Fire, and then to Salem since it was around Halloween, Boston, and everywhere in between.  Those were the days when the idea of a vacation was to actually go somewhere for a week or ten days and not just home for Christmas.  We ended up in Kennebunk, Maine where we had dinner with George and Barbara.  Ok, not really but we did stay at a lovely B&B right on the beach.  Oh, did I mention that my husband is a fanatic Red Sox fan?  Did you see Fever Pitch?  That's Robert.  Had he thought to be a teacher to have his summer's off to watch every game, he would have.  During the games last week when they were actually winning, everyone had to recreate what they were doing night after night.  Taylor had to sit in a certain chair with her Red Sox hat turned sideways, and wasn't allowed to move.  Finally, at 9:45, I insisted she had to go to bed.  They lost.  All because of some vast cosmic influence that Taylor's hat has over the Red Sox's destiny.

So, we were in Maine and I guess I hadn't really caught on yet that we had to watch every second of every playoff game during vacation and the outcome might determine the mood of the trip.  Call me crazy, but I'm just a happy-go-lucky gal glad to be out of the rat race for a minute in a place where my Blackberry had sketchy reception.  They were 5 outs away from victory in the 7th game with the Yankees and they end up losing.  I know that was anti-climatic but I went through enough drama at the time that I don't really care to re-live the outcome.  Suffice it to say that the trip was ruined.  For those of you who relate, I made the ULTIMATE rookie mistake by saying, "It's just a game."  That is the equivalent of, "It's just a lung," or "It's just a little dent."  I now avoid trying to plan vacations in October in case they make the playoffs, which they did this year for those of you not totally obsessed.  Night after night we watch.  Lately, we seem to watch them lose.  Last night, there is a huge discussion tirade about how before it was just a disappointment when they lost.  I mean, they had been losing since 1918 so I can't really see how you could do anything but expect them to lose, but apparently you can be really disappointed.  He went on to say how his Grandfather or his Mother never got to see them win a World Series after being disappointed fans for so many years.  I get that.  This year, however, is different.  Everyone knows they can win since they've done so twice now in the past 3 World Series, so this time it is not disappointment but rather anger.  Hmmmmmmm.  Anger??  Really??  I like sports just as much as the next person but when my team loses, I'm disappointed for about 5 minutes.  Never angry.  Where do you focus this anger?  The players, the coaches, the oh-so-delicious General Manager, or perhaps the hot dog guy? 

I'm begging you to please join your cosmic forces for tomorrow night's game.  If you watched a game where they won, please recreate the scene.  What you were wearing, where you were sitting, how you had your hat, etc.  Please.  For me.  October is almost over.

What the eff is it?

 

Why, it's the Large Hadron Collider, of course.  This is project month at the Day School and this is Nick's social studies project.  It lights up.  Now, most people would have the proper tools to make this and it wouldn't take that long.  No, we have to cut each hole in the thick plastic with kitchen knives, and I have the bloody stumps to prove it.  It has also taken us hours to complete.  About 3/4 of the way through, I remember I had a drill at some point.  Years ago, after I bought it and promptly stripped out a hole in the wall, I went to Home Depot looking for help on how to make the hole smaller to put up the towel rack.  Don't look at me like that, we've ALL done it.  The dude at Home Depot told me I was not drill savvy and should not be tackling such manly projects.  Apparently, I couldn't do it and he couldn't help.  So much for their slogan.  So, I went looking through my garage which is completely out of control messy but I've been waiting for it to cool off to tackle the project.  My idea of fun is not to re-stack boxes in the 120 degree garage.  I found the drill and it doesn't work.  Since I'm not drill savvy, best I can tell the battery thingy has gone bad because it won't charge, so it was back to the knife.  All in all, I think it was a pretty good project.  Same rates at the Aztec Village, $75 plus shipping.

Stack'n um deep, Selling um cheap

Do you remember the mirror I was telling you about in the Trump Las Vegas: An Analysis?  Well, I received an email from the company today saying they are selling them at a 50% discount.  You can now bring one home for $3,475.00.  Watching the stock market and my home value decline everyday, I think this seems like a smart purchase.  I already told the kids we might need to dumb down our college choices.  Don't be thinking so much about Stanford or Harvard, and set your sights more on University of Nevada, Reno.    If you get good grades in high school, they pay for your tuition.   So, yes, with this new college plan, I should go ahead and buy the mirror.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Taylor was flipping through Costume Express last night in a desperate attempt to finalize her Halloween costume choices down to ten, and ran across a photo of the Cuddly Lion Costume.  She came in and asked if she had ever been in a magazine when she was a baby and showed me the picture and it looked just like her.  I tried to find a picture of her at about the same age to show the resemblance and it is damn close.  Do you think someone in charge of the magazine asks their employees to bring in photos of families and friends and Photoshops a costume on them?  Would save quite a bit of money on modeling fees. 

Quick question.  What 10-year-old girl would look that closely at a photo of a baby and then make the connection?  She might be a little egocentric.  So, she cuts out the picture and puts in on her bulletin board?  Why, you might ask?  I'm betting that when her friends come over, she will tell them it is her and she modeled in her younger days.  Why do I think that?  Take a look at all these trophies in her room:

THEY AREN'T HERS.  They were going to throw them out at Dance and she took them home.  I had the conversation that it was important to earn them and people had worked really hard to get such a great reward.  Um, nah, it's easier to get them from the dumpster.

Traveling - How do I loathe thee...Let me count the ways

I just returned from a trip to Philadelphia for a lottery conference, and it has been awhile since I had traveled for work.  Traveling used to be fun like when I would go from Phoenix to Las Vegas on the weekends.  I would see the dancers coming in for the weekend and would hear great stories of what happened in their previous visits.  These girls were always beautiful and usually worked during the week as students, computer programmers, and even attorneys.  They would come to Vegas to dance for 2 nights and make more than they would all week at their day job.  We were friends.  I liked my dancer friends.  Then, I started traveling more and more for work.  There were no dancer friends around.  Just other angry travelers just trying to get to and fro.  Some people don't mind traveling.  Pam says as long as she has her iPod and a glass of Chardonnay, she is good to go.  For me to be comfortable, I need first class, a glass of Cabernet, my iPod, Ambien, a blanket of my own, a pillow of my own, and a really good trash book.  If I were really to take all this, I would look like I was going camping (my idea of camping) for the weekend.  Plus, we all know the ultimate badge of traveling honor is to not check a bag so all this gear would be impossible. 

I've listed some of my "favorite" things about traveling:

• The smell of the pretzel hot dog wafting through the concourse.
• The cheapest red wine on the planet at the airport bar.
• The fact that I know how to pack an entire beauty regimen in a quart size baggie.  Lori would be so proud.  One of her pet peeves in life is not having the right sized baggie.
• The atmosphere coming to Vegas when I'm just trying to get home.  PARTY!!!  Is it fun to get so drunk on the plane that you have to go to bed as soon as you get here?
• Not having Premier Executive status and being in the 18th row.  However, you could pay an additional $15 for a "better" seat.  In Row 16.  In the middle.  Uh, no?
• Hotel rooms where the air conditioning requires continual monitoring.  It's too loud or too cold or not cold enough, etc., so you're up 20 times a night making yourself more comfortable.
• The chatter on the airplane.  I ALWAYS have my headphones in even if they are not operational.  So, if you try to speak to me, I make a big deal about taking them out to say, "What?"  Now, the rudeness should be the first clue that I don't want to chat, yet most people go ahead and start right up.  Can you ever tell me a time when something good came from airplane chat?  My favorite line when men ask me what I do for a living is to say that I'm a private investigator and I'm following a man here to Vegas for his wife.  This usually shuts them up.  I also bet they call home when they land.
• I find the Manager's reception at the Hampton Inn one of the most depressing places on earth.  That's not to say that I'm not attending, but I'm just hoping someone will pass out Xanax because everyone one of us there needs it.  The amount of lonely travelers at those places will make you rethink your life.  Then, after the reception, we will amble over to Applebees to eat at the bar by ourselves.  This is the glamorous side of traveling, my friends.

So, when you hear how your friends are traveling for business and it sounds so chic and exciting, conjure up the smell of the pretzel dog and staying home with a bag of chips doesn't sound so bad afterall.

I told you they were evil

This poor child is going to need therapy some day.

Hoochifying Baby Gravy

I've had this present for Baby Gravy sitting on my kitchen table for 2 weeks.  The plan was to round out the present, get something for Sister, pack it and mail it.  As I said, the present is still sitting here because all that sounded overwhelming.  I saw these on a segment on the Today Show and had to have them.  I thought they were really funny and that Krys would get a kick out of it.  Little did I know, apparently based on public outcry, these things have the ability to turn your child into a Hoochie Baby.  They are called Heelarious, and were designed by two mothers who are now getting rich, and a bunch of crap. 

Before you get all worked up, the heel is collapsible and it is not intended for walking babies.  The size is 0-6 months.  These little shoes, supposed to bring a smile to everyone's face, have brought on complete public outrage.  I've listed some of my favorite comments below:

• One more reason Muslims and others will see American culture as the worst example of promiscuity and sexual obsession on earth. Shame on us!
• The very people who promote these sexually provocative clothes for little girls are shocked when perverts are attracted to their children and somehow surprised when young "ladies" they know end up behaving like adults when they are nine.
• What a ridiculous waste of money! We, as human beings of this generation, have become so gullible and so easily influenced as to how to spend our money that instead of buying things to meet our needs, we are now brain-washed into thinking spending money to create a ridiculous thing like baby heels that people will pay for just to stand out is justified and is just "silly fun". Really people, we need to get a clue! First deep-fried coke in an age of obesity, now baby-heels in an age of over consumption and over-sexualization...what next?
• Hoochifying an infant is as depraved as one can get.

Could everyone just relax?  I've written about it before but do we need to judge everything everyone does and says?  Hey Internet, can't we just have a little "silly fun?"

I'm sorry if I've condemned Baby Gravy to a life of stripping.  Good thing I live in Las Vegas and can give her a place to stay. 

Game Over

It was just me and Pam who took the weight loss challenge.  I lost 4 pounds and Pam lost 6 (Bitch).  Not bad for a week's work.  I'm still trying to keep to the program but haven't been as diligent about my food log.  You know when it gets to be 2 pages long, you have pretty much blown the day.

Still not good after 60 years

In an attempt to analyze the creativity of the parent, Taylor's class has been assigned to construct an Indian Village.  She drew the Aztec's, which was lucky for me because you know there is more information out there about the Aztec's than the Inuits.  So, we have been researching and gathering material to construct the masterpiece.  Now, it is not actually due until the 1st, but I'm leaving town tomorrow for Philadelphia, and we all know that most fathers are not good at these projects.  So, we started hammering it out.  Here is the final copy:

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I know there is no way you can appreciate the amount of time and energy that went into this.  The picture isn't great but do you see the garden on the left with the little corn and pumpkins made of clay?  Need a closer look?

 

We decided to make the pyramid out of Legos.  OMG.  I guess my kids never played with them because I would've know before now that THEY ARE EVIL!  This has got to be the most frustrating thing ever invented.  By the time you get it the shape you want, a row comes loose and the whole thing collapses.  I thought I was going to lose my mind.  Only after using super glue to hold it together did we get it to a stage to spray paint. 

We decided to sacrifice this little guy.  I would've added the inventor of Legos as well if I knew where to find him.  If you have little kids and have not introduced them to Legos, I wouldn't advise it.  In addition to stepping on the little sharp edges in bare feet in the middle of the night, you are just asking for your little person to want to construct a noose to hang themselves. These things have been on the market for almost 60 years frustrating little children everywhere.

I have about $60 in materials, and will be willing to sell it after October 3rd for $75.  Shipping not included.

I'm no June Cleaver

Most of you who know me well know that I am just the teensy, tiniest bit spoiled.  That's not to say that I don't work really hard and pull my weight, but I generally get what I want.  Like all good children, I blame my mother.  I was the last of 5 girls and it's not that I was babied because I was the cutest, or that I was the favorite, because I wasn't even in the top half of favorites.  She was just done.  Sick and tired of telling children for 20 years to make their bed, eat their vegetables, do their homework, etc.  Who the hell could blame her?  By the time I came along the woman was 41 years old and already had grandchildren.  People would ask my dad if we were Catholic.  "No," he would say, "just passionate Baptists."  As I got older, I found out the real truth.  A train would pass by our house around 5 a.m.  He said it was too early to get up and too late to go back to sleep.  Eeewwww.  Blame the train. So, I was left with lazy parenting.  She was done cooking, so I pretty much lived on Rice-A-Roni, hot dogs, and Twinkies.  In the housekeeping arena she did everything for me so she wouldn't have to deal with me.  I never even made my bed.  When she asked me to dust, I would fake an illness and lie down on the couch until the work was done.  I would never let my own slaves children get away with that.  When I got out on my own, I washed my own clothes for the first time.  My roommate came in one day very red-faced screaming DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO CHANGE THE DRYER VENT??  Um, no, I didn't know there was a dryer vent.  Needless to say, I was a huge slob until I had kids and then kept the house clean AND hired a housekeeper.  Maybe just once or twice a month, nothing crazy.  Then, a couple of years ago, a lady came in my life/house and came 3 days a week.  One full-day and two half days.  She cleaned AND did the laundry and ironing.  Before her, my idea of ironing was throwing a wet washcloth in the dryer with the clothes to try to coax out the wrinkles.  Of course, I did what seems inconceivable now, and bitched about her.  She didn't move the furniture when she mopped, and wasn't the best duster.  I would go behind her and clean up little things, but my house was always clean.  Since I've been unemployed consulting, it didn't make sense to keep her on since I'm home and could do it.  OMG.  It is all I do.  My sister says, if you want a clean house, unless no one is living there, it is a constant job.  She's so right.  I'm spending at least 30 hours a week cleaning, doing the laundry and ironing.  When am I supposed to exercise?  I make the slaves children help, but let's face it, if the housekeeper wasn't cutting the mustard, then the children aren't going to do it right.  Let me tell you right now, it is so much easier to go behind someone and spot clean.  WHY WAS I BITCHING????  Also, there is no good floor cleaner.  If you mop, you are just sloshing the dirty water around, so I bought a Hoover Floor Mate.  This thing sounds like an F-15 is in your house.  The kids have banned me using it while they are trying to do their homework.  It still isn't good.  I want something that steam cleans the floor, sucks up the dirt, and leaves it with a nice, fresh scent.  Oh yeah, that would be a housekeeper.

Trump Las Vegas: An Analysis

Sometimes my husband and I will take a night to get away from the house and stay on the strip or at Lake Las Vegas.  You're still close-by in case you have a huge drama involving auditions for You're a Good Man Charlie Brown where your 10-year-old daughter wasn't able to audition for a part because she was in the dressing room and no one came to get her after waiting for 4 hours to audition, but far enough away where you don't feel like you need to do laundry and clean the house.  Mind you, the auditions were at the studio where we spend a huge amount of money every month for classes, and not for Broadway.  No one is going to see this play except for the parents of the students.  However, it is an important life lesson for her to learn.  She ended up getting another part which she didn't want as much but at least still gets to be in the show.  I was actually very proud of her for hanging in there when all she wanted to do was leave.  It would have been so easy to wrap my arms around her and take her home, but I'm trying to let her feel a couple of failures.  A great book, A Nation of Wimps, shows how parents are ruining their children for being too invasive.  I think kids need to have those experiences to know how to cope with loss and failure. The trick is being there with ice cream after it is all over and to listen.  Trust me, she is way over it.  I'm still mad and have had to tie my fingers together when I feel like sending the instructor an email. 

So, after the drama we checked in to Trump Las Vegas which is a new hotel/condo property with no casino.  Trust me, I get my share of casinos so a hotel that doesn't have one is very welcome.  I'm not sure how it translates for business, but I appreciate it.  The rooms weren't cheap but cheaper than they would've been a year ago.  We stayed in a one-bedroom with a full kitchen, which was great because I could wake up and heat up dinner from the night before for breakfast.  The best part was that no one had stayed in this room before.  We didn't even take out the anti-bacterial wipes.  Instead we got to take off the plastic off the ironing board, the remote, etc.

 

Look at this tiny little bottle of Chambord.  Isn't it cute??

 

THE BEST THING EVER - THE MIRROR TV

So, I've done some checking about the mirror TV which I enjoyed more than I can tell you.  How great is it to be able to watch the Chiefs get pounded while you're applying make-up and don't have to worry about splashing the TV?  It is from a company called Electric Mirror, and their website is beautiful but has no information.  I emailed the guy this morning and just got a quote for $6,950 for a 60x40 mirror.  Yikes!  When I win the lottery, this is going on my list of top products to buy.

So, the hotel was good.  The service was good.  We basically just slept there so we didn't have much interaction with the staff.  The room was beautiful although the view was of a big piece of dirt where I think they had planned a second tower.  I'm sure it, as well as everything else in this town, is on hold until the economy recovers.  While it's cheaper and if you like no casino, it is worth checking out.

Game On!

My friend Pam came in this weekend and we went out to dinner with some friends/work associates of hers.  We discussed the pitfalls of dieting and how it just isn't as easy as it used to be.  Back in the day, you could just drink dinner one night and lose 5 pounds and keep it off!  No more, my friend.  So, after several glasses of wine, we decided to have a week long challenge.  Me, Pam, and Debbie are going to stick to a similar routine and see what we can do in a week.  The goal is 1200 calories per day and 30 minutes of exercise.  Any more takers?

Monday Morning Quarterback Syndrome: An Analysis

Fortune magazine ran a cover story in a July issue called, How I'll Fix The Economy, which discusses in detail how each candidate will address the economy and get it moving again.  I'm sorry, but if they both have such great ideas, WHY DO WE NEED TO WAIT UNTIL THEY ARE ELECTED TO IMPLEMENT?  I mean, if one of the candidates stepped up and started to roll out and implement a plan to fix the economy, wouldn't they be assured of victory?  They spend millions of dollars on advertising accusing each other of being Washington insiders.  Of course, they are all Washington insiders.  That is their job.  This is their industry.  THEY ALL WORK IN GOVERNMENT.  It would be weird if a professional bowler ran for President.  He would be justified running the Washington insider campaign, but these guys, not so much.  I have an idea, how about instead of spending all that money telling us things we already know and don't give a crap about, let's take that advertising money and hire some economist and business professionals to hash out their great plans.  Even if one of the candidates doesn't get elected, it would still give them a legacy.  See, it's not that hard to fix things.  The Monday morning quarterback syndrome is alive and well, and I blame reality television.

For me, it started with singing and knowing exactly when a song was pitchy or if it was a wrong song choice.  Then, came the dancing.  Their moves aren't tight enough, their range of motion limited, or they did not have good lines.  I know who is the best, of course I do.  I am often incredulous at the results from the supposed real judges.  I know what designs will work for the mass market and which will go straight to the trash or straight to couture.  I could've picked the next Pussy Cat Doll from the auditions.  Ditto for the new Elle in Legally Blonde: The Musical.  The Olympics catapulted me into an entire new range of sports which gave me a new forum to hone my skills.  Take Gymnastics, for instance.  Thanks to the Olympics, all I need is to figure out the mathematics behind the deductions, and I can be a judge.  You should have seen me from my living room.  A thing of beauty.  I knew exactly what went wrong and why WAY before Bella told me. 

I think many of you feel the same way.  We judge each performance with analysis and criticism that we feel should be heard, either by family, friends, or the water cooler.  It's too bad that TV has created this entire country of experts with no outlet.  Where can our voice be heard?  Because, we know how to do better even if we can't or don't want to do it ourselves.  We are just here to make you better.

My eyes are watering

The diet started today and did not get off to a roaring success. I blame my husband. In an effort to be nice (and since he doesn't read this blog and didn't know that today was the beginning good-by to 15 pounds), he bought my favorite bagels at Panera Bread, the awesome Asiago Cheese. Well, I couldn't be rude so I ate one. I did, however, just put a couple of squirts of fake, spray butter on it instead of smothering it with real butter like I wanted. After I ate it, I decide to look up on the Internet to see how many calories this baby is packing. Are you ready? A whopping 370 calories and 61 grams of carbohydrates, and 630 mg sodium. YIKES AND OOPS. Holy crap. I had just about a fourth of my daily allotment and it didn't include much protein. I suck at this. There is WAY too much math involved with dieting. Now, the old me would have said better just wait until tomorrow to start again and have a cupcake, but I decided to chalk it up to stupidity and keep going. After all, I knew that big ole cheese bagel probably wasn't on the program before I shoved it in my mouth. So, I had a piece of fruit for mid-morning snack, and I was getting ready to make a salad for lunch.

Then, God delivered the best anti-hunger agent known to man. My dishwasher has been broken since Loaf-A-Palooza, which has been really fun. I read not too long ago that a good way to get the family more time together was to wash the dishes together after meals. Well, we've been doing that for a week now, and it's just not that much fun. We would rather sit on our asses and watch TV, thank you very much. By ourselves.

I've had two people out here to look at the dishwasher through the stupid home warranty company and they both get out here, look at it, write up a report, and then go back to the warranty company and say that they don't service this fancy-boy dishwasher because the parts come from Sweden and they can't get them. CAN'T WE DECIDE THAT WHEN THEY CALL AND I TELL THEM IT IS AN ASKO DISHWASHER IN THE FIRST PLACE? So, a man just came out to look at it again as I had my salad fixings all over the island. I opened the door and the smell of the little guy almost knocked me down. I cannot even describe the odor that this man is emitting in my kitchen. It is so bad, that I have a headache and the stench is seeping into other parts of the house. I think this job is even too big for Febreze. In fact, I'm not sure how to get the B.O. out of the house. On top of that, he is a close-talker so he comes very close when he talks and I have to hold my breath. Almost passed out earlier. There is no way on God's green earth that I will be able to eat. This guy needs to bottle this so I can put it under my nose when I want to eat an Asiago Bagel. He seems really nice. I wonder if he could move in for a couple of months and continue not to shower. I'm pretty sure that he would take me up on the latter since it has obviously been quite some time since he last bathed. An added bonus is that I think he actually fixed my damn dishwasher.

For those of you trying desperately to lose a few pounds, I recommend getting yourselves a little, stinky dishwasher repairman.

It was the least he could do

In typically Nick fashion, he has figured out a way to get the job done with as little effort as possible.  He has this baby so dialed in that he doesn't bother actually putting the diaper on so long as the sensor is close.  Ditto on the bottle.  I will say that it was programmed to keep him up most of the night on Saturday.  Tee hee.  Thankfully, my bedroom is on the other side of the house.

We loved this baby so much that we let it go without pants, never gave it a name, and threatened to wrap it in a blanket and put it in the closet when the sensor wouldn't register which meant in would go in uncontrollable screaming.  I guess this confirms that I'm done having children. 

Don't call me Grandma

Today Nick came home with a baby. It's one of those health projects where the baby cries and you try to figure out why, but you get to give it back over the weekend and it doesn't make you go broke and crazy. Back in my day, we used an egg. I will update you as the weekend progresses. Right now, they are watching South Park together. Clearly, not ready for parenthood. We made ours watch The Simpsons.

Scarlett O'Hara dieting tips

Nick is in the 8th grade this year, so they have asked the parents to continue to fund the school in sneaky, devious tactics buy an ad in the yearbook for a mere $375 to congratulate the little sunshines on "graduating" the 8th grade.  Are they kidding?  I would have been really pissed if he didn't graduate the 8th grade.  In fact, I expect him to graduate everything for quite some time.  I guess when he gets his Doctorate, I will feel really proud.  I promise I will take out an ad then congratulating him. So, not only do you have to cough up the money but also have to come up with some clever little poem or "ode" to your special little person.  Now, Nick has become a teenager overnight insisting that he knows EVERYTHING and I'm just an idiot.  So, the only saying I can come up with is:

Nick, you've become a teenager and now I know why some animals eat their young.

Of course, all the cleverness must be accompanied by cute photos of yesteryear.  In looking through the photo albums for pictures, I had unintentionally recorded an interesting fact about myself.  I have chronologically documented the constant ebb and flow of my weight.  It starts with Nick's birth pictures where I was HUGE and then 3 months later where I was still in the "just had a baby" denial of fatness and still huge.  Then, as you turn the pictures, you can see the weight coming off slowly and then back to normal.  Taylor then comes along and starts the process all over again.  It is actually quite frightening.  I then get to a stage where it stays off then I get really skinny which was about the time of my divorce, coinciding with making tons of money, resulting in a whole new wardrobe to make myself feel better.  The only thing that still fits out of that wardrobe are the shoes.  If I were still putting pictures in the album, you would see we are headed up the mountain again.  My friend Lori says the only way to get out of the cycle is to lose the weight for good or make a decision to own your fat.  Love it.  Make it your friend.  I've tried to love my fat.  I've tried to make friends.  It's just that those clothes are so damn cute and I would love to see myself in them again.

So, I'm saying publicly that I'm going to get it off AGAIN.  I say this as I'm eating a cupcake.  Because, you know how it goes.  If I've made the decision to really get serious about losing weight, it gives me a license to eat whatever I want until that day starts.  There are rules for that as well.  See, today is Friday and you can't start a diet on Friday.  You would throw off the entire metaphysical aura of dieting worldwide.  The fact that I didn't start on the first of the month could also be a factor in defeat, but I must take my chances.  You must start on a Monday, which is what I plan to do.  I will record my progress for all to see and hopefully have some accountability.  The ultimate goal is 15 pounds.  Right now, I'm going to make dinner reservations for the next three nights.  Scarlett said it best: After all...tomorrow is another day.

The Gnomes have Knives

So, we went on our awesome trip to the beach.  There is no greater place within a 4.5 hour car ride.  Coronado is June Cleaver land.  Either it is safe or it provides a false sense of security that I'm on board with as well.  The kids rode their bikes, hung out on the beach, swam, and were tired and in bed by 9:30 every night.  No TV, texting, or endless phone calls.  Nick was allowed one call per day for a limited time.  Even prisoners get the same courtesy.

We went with another couple and their kids who rented this huge house really close to the beach.  You could see the ocean from the second floor windows.  The house is owned by a doctor who raised 6 kids in that house and just got the last one off to college and decided he would rent his house.  Quick note: he hasn't moved out of it yet.  Of course, that part was omitted in the rental agreement.  So, all of his crap and his 6 kids worth of crap is still everywhere.  There are clothes in the closets, his garage is full of stuff, he has a junk drawer in the kitchen, his pantry and refrigerator are fully stocked.  We felt like squatters.  It was so bizarre.  You could tell he was new at this because of ALL THE NOTES he left EVERYWHERE to explain how everything worked and all the rules.  Oh, there were a million rules.

   

My personal favorite:

I like it that The Hardwood Floors thank me.  I'm not sure I've ever been thanked by a Hardwood Floor.  I kind of like it.  Maybe someday my Concrete Floor will thank me, like after I've cleaned it or removed syrup stuck on it.  Do you think it giggles when I mop it?

This guy was so anal, I half expected to find this in the garden:

Conversation in the car on the way home

Robert:  That is really sharp looking.

Me:  What?

Robert:  That Audi over there.  That is the big one.

Me:  I really like the Audi.  I would like to look at one next time I'm in  the market.

Taylor:  Are you talking about a bellybutton?

BEACH

I'm going to the beach for the long, holiday weekend.  I hope everyone has a great weekend and I will post some pictures when I return.

Yippee!

Humpty Dumpty

On the way to school every morning, I get to see Humpty Dumpty.  Someone has put him atop their wall in their backyard and I can see him from the street.  It makes me chuckle every morning.  It also reminds me of one of my best jokes I've been telling since I was four:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall

All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.  Do you know why?

I ate him for breakfast.

(courtesy of Lily Tomlin)

Loaf-A-Palooza

There is a man in my husband's office that we wanted to have over for dinner.  He is a single man with a great heart and a hearty appetite for meatloaf, so we occasionally have him over.  Meatloaf is not usually a meal I think about when it's 107 degrees outside, but this wasn't about me.  Actually, the only thing I think of when I think of meatloaf is how when we were kids, we would also want the end pieces that were the most burned because they had the least offensive taste when smothered in Ketchup.  The last time my mother made it, she promised she would never fix it again.  We were happy. 

Long story short, it ends up that we are going to have 12 people for meatloaf dinner (still 107 outside) on Sunday.  So, after hosting Legally Blonde: The Party, I re-clean the house and start on what I think will be acceptable accompaniments to the dinner: mashed potatoes, green beans, asparagus, and peach cobbler.  I have everything made and ready to go on Saturday night to either warm up or bake the next day.  I'm looking at a relaxing Sunday hanging out with the kids. My husband was going to be in charge of the meatloaf, so I figure my part is done.  So, I get up for my bike ride on Sunday morning and when I get back, there are about 10 meatloaf recipes on the island to review.  He wants me to pick the best three.  Yes, you heard me.  He's making three meatloafs.  Loaf-A-Palooza.  So we landed on these three all from the Food Network.

1. Good Eats Meat Loaf (Alton Brown)
2. Roasted Vegetable Meatloaf with Balsamic Glaze (Bobby Flay)
3. Spicy Meatloaf with Chipotle Sauce

Do you have any idea how much meat went into these things?  Eeewwww.  We are talking about almost 7 pounds of meat.  That is the size of a baby.  Eeewwww.  He goes to the store and three hours later, returns with enough groceries to feed a small, developing country.  We are now four hours away from guests arriving, and those of you who know meatloaf, know that it takes 1 to 1/2 hours to cook each one.  Oh, and we've added a few more items to the menu such as Artichoke Heart and Spinach Gratin, two kinds of homemade ice cream, and a starter of Linguini with Clam Sauce.  Four hours away from guests.  Oh, and there are no shortcuts because the discernable palates could tell that we bought the breadcrumbs and that WOULD JUST NOT DO.   These same discernable palates that left wine in their glass that hailed from a 2000 Silver Oak Cabernet.  Is it wrong to admit that I almost drank it after everyone left?  I didn't, but come on people. 

For the next four hours, we slice, dice, chop, stir, whip, pulse, puree, strain, mold, brush and bake.  I'm exhausted again just telling the story.  So, we have a taste off and the winner is the Bobby Flay recipe by a country mile.  My husband hates Bobby Flay because he licks his fingers and then continues cooking and touching the food again. He may have redeemed himself with his loaf recipe.

That night, we deemed our first (and hopefully only) Loaf-A-Palooza a success.  I wish I had taken photos.  Today, we hear that our guest of honor has been ill.  God speed, Bob.  Hope it wasn't the meatloaf.