MERRY CHRISTMAS!

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Darth Vader, Freddy Kruger, Carlos Castaeda, Jason

HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!

Just in Time for Christmas

http://bewareofthedoghouse.com/videoPage.aspx

20 years.......

It's the class of 1988 redux! Last night was my 20th high school reunion. It was a doozy. First let me preface this with what I have done to myself to get myself into tip-top, foxy mama, shape. This would include pain searing workouts with my BFF Cardioqueen, running until my legs are flopping behind me, not eating or drinking anything decent FOR MONTHS and withholding my constant picking at my fingernails so they would grow to a decent length. I bought a snazzy and expensive dress from Banana Republic, had my hair cut and highlighted, had dental work done, bought f-me high heel shoes and fabulous jewlery. Plus the cost of the ticket and the drinks when I got there. I was determined to go back looking and feeling like a million bucks. Did it work? Yup. I felt great! It was an absolute ball to be with four of my best friends and re-live the big 80's. We watched videos, sifted through pictures and laughed our asses off. I can tell you one thing.....I was a bad, bad, BAD teenager! It's by the grace of God that I am alive and well today. Really.

I spent 5 or so hours hanging with the class of 1988. Many of them were there, the geeks, the jocks, the PIBS, the Duran Duran wannabe's, the popular kids.....all of them. I had a few revelations as the night went on.......here they are:

It fascinated me to no end that each person I saw looked more or less the exact same....especially the girls. They all looked great. You could tell that perhaps they too had starved and worked themselves to death just like me. Most of the guys were balding and a little overweight...but ok.

I kept thinking it was so odd to see these people with wives, husbands, kids. They are forever a teenager in my mind.....seeing them as Mom or Dad or buying a house or working in a big-time job blows my mind.

Several people DID NOT RECOGNIZE ME!!!!!!! That was just straight out weird. I don't look that different do I? I look at pictures of myself in high school and I look like a younger, skinnier, almost baby like version of myself.......but I'm still me!

I was very glad I went. I had a lot of fun. But that's it for me folks. It was great to see everyone and who they are and what they have become.......but really the 20 year mark is enough. In 30 or 40 years were all just the same........births, marriages, divorces, deaths, and so on. I would prefer to keep everyone in mind just the way I saw them all last night. Happy.

Rock on Class of 1988.........Rock on.

Spin 2

There seems to be a never ending cast of characters in my spinning class.  I've already mentioned the carrot (or the tan-addict, as I call her).  There's the guy who wears sunglasses in class (he's not blind, what's going on???)  Then there's the guy who never seems to wash his bike shorts, so if you happen to get stuck behind him, you get a whiff of butt funk every time he plunks his smelly ass down on the bike seat.

Today beat them all.  An incredibly fit woman came into spin class and hopped on one of the bikes right in front of the instructor.  All was fine till she took her warm-up shirt off to reveal a sports bra which could BARELY CONTAIN HER ENORMOUS IMPLANTS!!!

I had a side view of her, and it looked like a bagel was trying to burst through her skin just under her armpits.  The poor instructor was trying to look ANYWHERE but straight ahead of him.  He noticed my friend Donna and I giggling in the back row and actually said, "Yeah, you should be sitting where I am right now".

I understand, if you're going to get implants, you want people to look at them, right?  But is the spin class really the place to flaunt your super-fake, oversized, permanently-high-beamed hooters?

I think not.

Let us all give Thanks!

Thanksgiving approaches and here is a list of things for which I give Thanks:

I'm thankful that I don't have to carry an infant around in a car seat

I'm thankful for my friends who make me laugh EVERY day

I'm thankful for my children (especially when they don't fight)

I'm thankful for my children (when they are asleep)

I'm thankful for my children (when the babysitter comes...)

I'm thankful for my husband who works hard at a job he hates (though I would be more thankful if he worked at a job hated that was closer to home

You say.... WHAT????

Inappropriate.  TMI.   Keep it to yourself.   If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.   Do any of these ring a bell?

I had a conversation on a PRIVATE phone with my sister the other day (well, actually she was on her cell phone but was sitting in the car because while she did have to go into the post office she chose not to carry on our conversation in front of all the other postal patrons) about the complete and utter lack of decorum when it comes to cell phone conversations.  

I was in Banana Republic the other day and overheard a woman asking about a friend's colonoscopy which was scheduled for the next day.  Yuck.  

My sister was in line at CVS and the young lady in front of her was relaying in great detail about her trip to the Florida Keys and about the all-nude bar she was at and how everyone was naked and how great it was.  

Or....how about the phones that ring during Church?  Yep, it's happened!  WTF??? 

C'mon world.....I do NOT need a visual of Candy lying on her side with a tube snaked up her butt or Sally's wide fat ass jiggling about and hanging off a stool in the FLA Keys while she is sucking down a Margarita.  I say....keep...it....to....yourself.  And if you can't......sit in the car and talk all you want.  I don't want to hear it.   (BTW.....do you notice a butt theme here?  Hmmmmmm.........interesting.)

I ask our faithful readers....please post a TMI conversation overheard on a cell phone.  I'm sure everyone has heard at least one by now!   Let's see who overheard the worst conversation ever....I'm sure it will be a doozy!

Baby Wee Wee (Pi Pi)

Get yours for Christmas NOW!

Why do I DO THIS to myself?

I turned 38.  Whooopee!  I celebrated in several ways.  First, my girlfriends in the neighborhood had a small gathering in honor of two of us who had September birthdays.  Couple glasses of wine...not a big deal.

Second, small family party with my husband and children.  One glass of wine.  No problem.

Third, a dinner party with some close friends.   Four margaritas later and I am ALL DONE.  Flash forward to today.......me very sicky.  Me not happy-o.  Me yucky.

I am 38 years old darn it!  I should know better!  You cannot weigh 110 pounds and drink a shit load of tequila and not feel it the next day.  Here is the difference between me at 28 and me at 38.  Me at 28 - drink a lot, feel sick the next day until about 4Pm...have an italian sub and all is well.  Me at 38 - drink a lot, feel so sick all day long, incredibly nauseous, sleep on and off, eat nothing, lay on couch like a loser.  The facts are in ladies and gents....it hits you a LOT harder the older you get.  This being said......I am ALL DONE.  It's just not worth it.....and I am not being a good example for my kids.  My 11 year old can and will figure it out.  What's that gonna be like..... me lecturing her on the evils of drinking and there I am hanging hard?  Common sense says.....it doesn't work.  You gotta practice what you preach.   So here it is world.....it's over for me.  I am done on the booze train....last stop...38.  A glass of wine, one beer, ok.    Anything else....slap me upside the head and slap it out of my hand.  Remind me....It is ok to only have none/one alcoholic drink and still be fun!  

There....now I can go puke.  

The Great Schlep

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FITFREAK!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR FITFREAK...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love, Flossy

Michael Moore's Slacker Uprising -- Trailer

Love him, hate him, but check out his new movie for FREE!

Milk......it does a body good.

Here is my WTF moment for the week.   Did you hear that PETA sent a letter to Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream asking them to replace Cow's Milk with Human Breast Milk?  Yeah....that's right....human breast milk.  Can you imagine anything more disgusting that eating a pint of Cherry Garcia flavored with Tammy from Chicago's boob milk?  Gee Tammy....did you have a BURRITO before you pumped?  Or how about Phish Food with just a slight taste of Minestrone?  Or Wow, this peanut butter cup is making me feel F-I-N-E....did someone in Florida have too many Margarita's?  Yummmmmmmm.  

Can you imagine how Ben & Jerry's would make this work?  Would mothers everywhere send in their milk and get paid?  Or better yet....would there be a giant milking room where women could come in, put their feet up, knit, chat, listen to an ipod or watch TV while being milked?

Never mind how completely disgusting and germy it is to think of eating someone's BREAST MILK.  What shocked me the most was that these a-holes actually think this is a really good idea!  AND...they think that the cows are being hurt when they get their milk pumped out.  Hey PETA......have you ever had a breast pump squeezing the hell out of your boob?  Let me tell you.....I HAVE and IT HURTS LIKE HELL.  I certainly could relate to the cow when I had this contraption on....I felt a certain kinship....but I am a HUMAN and they are a COW and for as long as life has been around we have been using cow's milk and they don't really seem to mind.  The baby cows get their fare share of milk too...so all around it's a happy milk world.  

PETA is a serious organization....one that I actually believe in too...I don't like seeing baby seals getting clubbed for their soft pelts or elephants shot dead for their ivory tusks...but they have made absolute idiots of themselves with this one.  Save the breast milk for the ones who need it the most........HUMAN BABIES.  

Mother of the Year

Don't you just love it when you go online and some AP Headline jumps out at you?  Today it was "Mom Pressure Washes Child, Gets Year Probation".

Who CAN'T just click right on that???

Apparently, the mother was at a self-serve car-wash and was becoming increasingly frustrated by her 2-year old.  There's video of her spraying the daughter with the power hose, though apparently she didn't have it on full force.  In an interview, she maintains that she didn't deserve to be arrested and didn't do anything wrong.

I love these Moms (and Dads).  When someone leaves their infant on the roof of their car and then powers down the highway, I feel so much better about my own parenting skills.  Andrea Yates and Susan Smith make me seem like mother of the year.  I haven't rolled anyone in the lake or drowned anyone in the bathtub.  True, I lost my temper once and bit my 7-year old at the gift shop at the Roger Williams Zoo, but it was a soft bite and it didn't leave any marks (hey, I didn't even break the skin!).

I haven't chained anyone to the heater in the basement for years on end or microwaved my baby or even put it in the fry-0-later.  So where's my medal?

Come n' get it!

If you find yourself a bit down in the dumps and in need of a few laughs, I highly recommend checking out the "Free" section of Craigs List.

Yes, you can buy a television, boat, chest of drawers and a thousand other things but why not get it FREE??? It amazes me some of the things that are being given away. Here's an example:

Breadbox
Broken Paddle Boat
Kids (not really kids, that was a hook to get you to click on the link)
Dora the Explorer foldable toilet seat (they claim not used but no box....yeah right)
Free 3ft diameter coffee table...the description: "It was the subject of an abortive attempt at refinishing, consisting of sanding 3 legs and deciding that refinishing was not for me. The difference is not very noticeable." (FYI-3 legs white, the other dark...so not noticible, unless you're a MIDGET!)
Muffler for 1997 Chevy Cavalier (I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR ONE OF THOSE!!!!)
Hemp shoes (?!!?)
Skirts/pants hangers (those are hard to find, huh?)
Pummel horse for gymnastic enthuiast (requiring 2 people, a dolly and a truck)

and my personal favorite:

Free cervical collar (still in plastic and box)

with this brilliant addendum to the description:

"For you fifth grade mentality types out there( u know who u are) a cervical collar is also known as a neck brace and has nothing to do with an actual cervix. Also, there is no such thing as a " clavical " anything but possibly a clavicle. Thanks for the help though... Dink. "

So take a few moments to peruse the free stuff, you might find something you need or you might just get a much needed laugh...

Turning a Deaf Ear

For days we have heard about the oncoming powerhouse that is Hurricane Ike. The television stations have run storm predictions, evacuations, damage assessments for what seems like forever. And today I read that 10s of THOUSANDS of residents of the great state of Texas ignored the warnings (what part of the phrase "certain death" don't you get?) and chose to stay in their homes. Now in addition to the clean-up, relocation and care of those who DID heed the warnings, Texas officials will have to spend precious time and money rescuing these dumb bastards.

I guess that prompts the question: How dumb do you have to be in order to live in Texas (and how dumb were we for electing one of them our president??? TWICE???)

I can understand not wanting to leave the home that you have cared for and paid for and created memories in for countless years. No one wants to sit and wonder if their home is being pummeled in 125 mph winds while they sit in a nice warm shelter. And even if your home does survive, what about looters afterwards?

Still, isn't it better to be alive with nothing than dead amongst the rubble of your house?

It reminds me of that e-mail that went around recently about the woman of deep faith who decided to stay in her home despite dire hurricane predictions. When a rescue worker in a fire truck came to evacuate her, she refused saying, "Thank you but the Lord will protect me". When the flood waters rose and she was trapped on her second floor, a boat came by and rescuers pleaded with her to come, to which she calmly replied, "No thank you, the Lord will protect me". And when the flood waters had reached the roof and rescuers came in a helicopter, she refused saying, 'No thank you, the Lord will protect me."

Next thing you know, the woman is in heaven, asking God why he didn't protect her. God replies, "I sent you a fire truck, a boat and a helicopter! What more did you want?"

It may not be God speaking to you when the governor of your state tells you to evacuate or face certain death, but it could be God speaking THROUGH your governor.

Good luck to all those folks in Texas and may God protect you.

Who is Sally Foster and Why Do I Hate Her?

Sally Foster comes home with my children the second week of school each year.  She's an overpriced bitch and I hate her.  Like Global Warming, if Sally Foster could be eradicated in our lifetime, mothers the world over would thank me.

For those of you who have never heard of Sally Foster...WHERE THE HELL HAVE  YOU BEEN??  Sally Foster is the catalog of beautiful but overpriced wrapping paper that each school child brings home the SECOND WEEK OF SCHOOL to beg for orders from friends and family.  To make matters worse, Sally Foster offers PRIZE INCENTIVES to children to get them to push MORE ORDERS.  All they see is the FREE IPOD NANO and they are hooked (they don't realize you need to sell 140 products (at about $10 a roll) to qualify!  If my kids are lucky, I will order one or two rolls from each and let them qualify for the free crappy key chain (this year's key chain features Tic Tac Toe:  OOOOO, challenging!

Here is the problem I have with Sally Foster:  EVERY SCHOOL SELLS IT!  That makes it impossible to sell to anyone other than immediate family, and ONLY if the immediate family members have no school age children.

At my son's preschool they had a fundraiser with cookie dough one year, frozen pretzels the next.  Those are things that I would be willing to buy.  Wrapping paper can be had for $1.99 a roll at Ocean State Job Lot or the Christmas Tree Shops.  I don't need $10 wrapping paper.  Why?  BECAUSE IT'S JUST GOING TO GET RIPPED TO SHREDS ANYWAY!!!

I think someone should look into a fundraiser featuring adult pleasure toys.  Can you see it now?  "Hello Ma'am, I'm trying to raise money for my school?  Would you be interested in some ben-wa balls, a Rabbit stimulator or a jar of cootchy cream?"

Our school would CLEAN UP!

Now vs. Then

I was thinking the other night of all the different activities my three children have participated in since, well, birth.  Here is a list of what they have done, what is available to them and what they do right now....(in no particular order.)

The Y indicates we have done it or are currently involved....

Gymboree - Y

Gymnastics - Y

Horseback Riding - Y

Golf

Tennis-Y

Swimming Lessons-Y

Football-Y

Soccer-Y Spring and Fall offered in our town

Lacrosse

Hockey

Skating Lessons-Y

Flag Football

Lego Robotics-Y

Boy Scouts

Girl Scouts

Brownies-Y

Tiger Scouts-Y

CCD - Religious Education-Y

Baseball - Y Spring, Summer and Fall are offered in our town

Basketball-Y

Karate-Y

Dance-Y

Cheerleading-Y

Softball

Field Hockey

and the list goes on and on....depending on where you live etc.

When I was a kid there was one option .....go out and play with the other kids.  

Wow, have times changed!   Do we really need our children to be involved in so much?  Are we trying to make super humans?  Now don't get me wrong....I think it's great to have a child participate in a few activities, it keeps them strong and motivated...but how much is enough and when is too much just too much?  Hmmmmm........when you figure it out.....let me know.  

Week and a Treat

I did something so deliciously selfish a couple of days ago....it was unreal.  

I went to the beach ALL BY MYSELF.  Yup....just me, myself and I.  The kids were in school and it was a gorgeous September day.  Bright blue skies, hot and well....just a perfect beach day.  I packed up my one towel, my one chair, my one sandwich, my one drink and a book and headed out.  It was delicious!  I spent about 2 hours sitting on my butt, tanning and relaxing, listening to the waves crash and the birds singing.  Glorious!   After about two hours I had to head home to the laundry, kids getting off the bus, homework, sibling fights and all the other crap that awaited me.  But for two hours I treated myself to MOMMY time.  

I decided that on a weekly basis I would take at least two hours of MOMMY time just for me.  It will become FITFREAK time.  I will go for a long walk, read a book uninterrupted, go to the beach, get a pedicure, window shop, meet a friend for lunch or breakfast, go to the library and sit in silence....etc.  Sounds good doesn't it?  

Here's the kicker....when I got home my kids found out I went to the beach....gasp!.....without them!  And guess what....they couldn't have cared less! So, now it's a rule in this house.....two hours minimum per week for me.  Now my fellow readers...don't continue to be a martyr....get out there and take some YOU time!  You'll be a better mother, wife, sister, friend, etc. by doing it!  And your kids and husband won't care one bit.

I AM IRONMAN (NOT!)

Recently my spin teacher disappeared for a month.  I knew that he was training for some triathlon but couldn't understand why that would impact teaching our class.  Then someone said he was training for the IRONMAN.  Aside from the Robert Downy Jr. film, I needed some more information. After some research I discovered that the Ironman event is a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride and a FULL MARATHON RUN!  I now put these Ironman triathletes in the same catagory as people who want to climb Mount Everest... CRAZY!

When the Ironman was finished, our gym put a sign up acknowledging his achievement and praising him for his amazing time, which was somewhere in the neighborhood of TEN AND A HALF HOURS!!!  Okay, let me go on record to say that if I had 10 and a half hours of unbroken, uninterrupted time, I would probably not push my body to its very limits of endurance.  Here are some of the things I would do with that kind of time:

Read a book from cover to cover

Watch all three Lord of the Rings films back to back

Go to the movies and see 4 different movies

Sleep

Two words:  SPA DAY

Remove the wallpaper from my bathroom

Spend the time with 3 or 4 close friends laughing my ass off

To each his own.  I have the highest admiration for someone who can do what I cannot.  Now cue Ozzy Osborne:  "...I AM IRONMAN..."

Vacation All I Ever Wanted......

I just got back from vacation.  Woo Hoo!  It was really fun to get away from it all and just sit back and chill for a week with the hubby and kids.  In general it was a great week...except for the torrential rain but you can't control the weather,  can ya???  I had some thoughts while I was away...and these are in no particular order....

1.  I do not like to go poop anywhere but on my own little home potty.  

2.  Not going poop on my own little potty for days on end causes major stomach problems.

3.  Stomach problems are not rectified with margaritas.

4.  Everyone in the world has either a piercing or a tattoo.  I was shocked to see so many, many people either tatted or holed up.  Gross.

5.  It is possible to get sick of eating out.  Seven lunches and nights of restaurant food can give you a tummy ache.  See #1 for further details.

6.  I never pack the right stuff.  In addition to the torrential rain, it was approximately 62 degrees every day.  (It's friggin August!  80's and 90's are the norm!!!)  This resulted in shopping for sweatshirts, sweatpants, and jeans.  Oh, and the fact that I had to get some of them at the Polo Outlet is not my fault.

7.  Oh the humanity of a public pool or waterpark.  I just can't get over the fact of half nude people waddling all around me.  I mean, for gawds sake, these people are basically wearing underwear!  If I wanted to see the world in their underwear I would be a fly...so I could be the "fly on the wall."  

8.  Your kids can swim in the pouring rain and think it's fun.

9.  Not a great idea to take a 8 year old mildly autistic boy horseback riding.

10.  Don't you just love a condo that has a washer/dryer en suite?  How sweet is that?  

11.  Onion rings are good....very damn good.  

12.  The making of a good margarita requires skill and talent.  Not all bartenders have it.  

13.  I don't like amusement park rides.  They are scary and weird.  Why the hell would I want to get on a flying reindeer roller coaster?  Especially when the sign entering the park said "some rides may be on delay due to the inclement weather.  Braking systems need to be dry."  Gee, thanks.  Death by reindeer.  How poetic.

14.  Is there anything grosser that a public bathroom?  Wet. Dank. Smelly. Pee on seat.  YUCK.  I hate them!!!!!!!!

15.  Spending 8 days with my three children and husband is worth it all.  We had so much fun! Many laughs and lots of smiles.  Despite rain, cold, and constipation....it was one hell of a vacation!

 

Remote Control Zombie Versus Remote Control Lederhosen

In case you were wondering who would win such a battle...

And remote control Zombies make SUCH a nice Christmas gift!

Shame on you....

Did your mother ever tell you "if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all."  Whatever happened to that old adage?

I just saw a clip from CNN of shock jock Michael Savage pontificating on how autistic children are spoiled brats whose fathers are not around to tell them to "stop being an idiot."  Wow...thanks a lot Mr. Savage!  I had no idea my son was spoiled!  That explains EVERYTHING!  So when he screamed 14 hours a day as an infant and I held him 24/7, I was spoiling him!  Of course I was.  When he incessantly talks about star wars and Dice K or Indiana Jones, it's cause we don't tell him to shut up!  Oh, and the fact that he disappears into his own world with his legos, flaps his hands and makes funny noises...that's my fault too.  Right?  Well F**K you buddy.  You are an ignorant a**hole of the first degree.  Come spend a week in my house with my family.  Try to see the pain in your sons face when the other kids ask him why he has a "brain problem."  Or why he flaps around and mutters to himself or swings endlessly (even on the bitterest winter days, or 105 degree heat). Why he NEVER wants to leave the house because it's so hard to figure out what the hell everyone wants from him.  How his speech is effected and he is a "loser" for not talking right.  Or the fact that when one thing goes wrong, he can have a melt down of major proportions, that can cause mind boggling screaming and crying.  Oh, but he is a BRAT.  How could I forget!  

The first amendment is there for us all.  I wouldn't silence Mr. Savage for anything.  He can blow all he wants, but we can silence his advertisers.  Let them know we find him utterly offensive, ridiculous, discriminatory, and completely insane.  Screw you Savage.  Your last name speaks for itself!

What Not To Wear

Here's a little tip for those of you suffering from body esteem issues.  Visit a WATER PARK!  My family and I visited Canobie Lake Park this past weekend, and though my focus was the Corkscrew Coaster, my sons really love Castaway Island, the water park.

This time around, I chose to remain in my shorts and t-shirt.  The water is DAMN cold and my kids are old enough to run and play while checking in with me from time to time.

This gave me ample time (key word here is AMPLE!) to view some of the sad fashion statements that people chose to make when it came to their swimwear.  Too many seemed to subcribe to the let-it-all-hang-out philosophy. Perhaps they just didn't care.  But in many cases, one question kept popping into my head...

Are there NO MIRRORS in your house???  Now the guy to the left with the do-lap (that's what Mr. Flossy calls it, because his belly "do lap over his wasteband...") is somewhat forgiven because he's a guy and they all think they're gods, especially when they are undressed.  But the girl???  Did she honestly think a two-piece bikini was the way to go?  Did she pick it out from her drawer, try it on and say to herself, "Damn, I'm hot!"????

God knows I am no bathing beauty.  But when I DO venture to the beach/pool/water park, I try to be considerate of others and keep the flab covered...

Remember this summer season:  Friends don't let fat friends wear bikinis!

You are really cute in person....but....

I have the absolute best hairdresser in the WORLD, he is at a super fancy salon on a super fancy street in Boston.  He is awesome, truly an artist.  He can take one look at you and give you an amazing cut and color and you walk out of the salon feeling like a snappy go-getter, perfectly coiffed and lookin' fine.

Except..........he is brutally honest and.......... well, downright mean at times.  For example.....he once told me that I was "really cute in person, but completely unphotogenic."  Just like that.  Meaning....I look like crap in pictures.  Well....usually I take his bullshit honesty with a grain of salt...I mean this guy cuts hair for a living and all the does and thinks about is BEAUTY and MORE BEAUTY.  He is surrounded by fake boobs, botox, eye lifts, tummy tucks, and hair extensions.  Imperfections are not part of his world.    So, I got to thinking....maybe he is right? I mean, I'm no super model or anything....but am I truly that unphotogenic?  I look pretty decent in my wedding pics and some candids of us on vacation aren't too bad.  Or, at least I think so....or maybe I am delusional??

I still don't have the answer....I like myself in most pictures (with the exception of the dumbass video made of me singing entirely off-tune and robotically dancing to Sweet Caroline at the Sox game, thanks a ton Flossy.)...and everyone has some pictures that don't show their best side(s), but really...who gives a crap?  So what if I don't look like Elle McPherson or Linda Evangelista....cause I can tell you ONE thing I have learned.  Sometimes those who looks so damn good on the glossy covers of a magazine, or amazing in all photos/vidoes really look like WEIRDOS in real life.  So I am glad I look better in person ....cause really it's all about real life....not friggin pictures.  

So boo to you Mr. Hairdresser.  Now cut and color my hair so I look foxy!   Hmmmph!

Check out Mr. Flossy and Fitfreak singing Sweet Caroline at Fenway Park Tuesday night!

Do You Sudoku?

I am proud to say that I completed my first sudoku puzzle the other day. Sudoku is one of those things that's all the rage now (along with Crocs, North Face jackets and Uggs) that I've managed to resist up until now while everyone around me is indulging. Granted, the North Face jackets and Uggs are not in my closet purely because of cost, and I did break down and buy a Lands End version of Crocs on sale because the dusty camp parking lot trashes my flip-flops, but still...

I was in Building 19 the other day and saw a couple perusing Sudoku puzzle books (78¢!!!) and the woman said to her husband "Put those back, those are TOO EASY!" I confessed to her (because that's what I do, strike up conversations with strangers and insinuate myself into their discussions...) that I have tried to do Sudoku and have quit because:

1) They are impossible for me
2) My brain can't do logic like that
3) My brain HURTS when I try
4) I end up feeling stupid.

Kind of like those bar puzzles where you have to unlink two steel knots, or a Rubik's cube (FYI, my older sister KICKS ASS on the Rubik's cube, can do it in like one minute!)

Anyway, the woman assured me that if I started out with the easy ones, I would get the hang of it. I bought the book (78¢ and the answers in the back!!!), brought it home and went to work. I love how the puzzles all have a little space at the bottom to write down how long it took to complete.

TWO HOURS LATER...

Warding off helpful hints from my logic-savvy husband and the temptation to peek at the answer, I was FINALLY able to complete the puzzle. I didn't feel stupid, but then again I didn't feel smart. There are about 80 more puzzles in the book, should I ever decide to attempt a SECOND try...

I think I'll get a Rubik's cube instead.

Tweet until death do us part

I was driving today (yes....again.... driving that mammoth gas hogging machine) to drop my kids off at their summer camp program.  In the middle of the road I spotted a small little birdie helplessly lying on its back, flapping its wings, clearly in the throws of injury and oncoming death.  (it probably got hit by another gas hogging mammoth machine.) 

Ya know what got me, to the core of my soul....was that on the injured bird's side was it's partner (husband or wife birdie?) cheeping away and hopping about, quite in distress.  I almost started to cry.  It was so damn sad.  (no I am NOT pms'ing.)  I tell ya, sometimes life just knocks you upside the head and sends an arrow into your heart.  I think that was God telling me to stop bitching and start appreciating.

PS - on the way home the little birdie was dead.  :(  

One Big Blog

I'm baaack!  I've been getting some sh*t from friends and readers (who knew so many of you looked forward to reading Flossy's and my blog??) about why I haven't posted in some time.  Well, the long and the short of it...I've been busy.  Aren't we all.

But no worries my friends....I have been blogging in my mind various subjects over the past two months and instead of doing an individual blog per subject, this will be one, big, totally random blog.  So here it goes....

I love summer.  It's my second favorite season (Fall being my first).  I love the hot, steamy weather.  The long days and early morning birds (other than my kids).   I love the beach, the pool, and the thought of no school, no homework, no getting the kids up and out the door by 7AM.  It's all sweet, and so darn short lived.  So I am going to really let this one soak in this year.  Last summer sucked.  I was dealing with several major personal crisises at once and nearly had a nervy b-down.  It was awful.  This summer, it's all about family, friends, laughter, corn on the cob, margaritas and Mike's hard lime, screened porch meals and beach days, highlights in the hair and tan legs.  Viva la Summer!

I saw Joey Kramer from Aerosmith twice in two weeks.  First he and his fabulous (girlfriend, wife, sig other) were in a local eatery for lunch and then again at Bertucci's for a dinner.  It was comical.  Not one person in either restaurant gave him a second look.  Ya gotta love that about Massachusetts.  We just don't give a crap about who you are....and we will NEVER stoop to ask your autograph or anything.  We just like to say we saw you.  Dream on Joey...Dream On!

I am so sick and tired of bratty kids in Church.  Today at the 9:30Am Mass there were kids doing the following....crawling up the aisle after the gospel and homily, banging and kicking the pews endlessly, howling like a banshee in protest when Mommy left to go pee or something, wandering about the church like it's a playground for exploration.  I could go on and on.  It is the 9:30 CHILDREN's MASS...but that does NOT give you license to let your kid act like a complete imbecile!  Jeez!

WTF is up with the gas prices?  $85 or more to fill my tank with gas.  And I HARDLY drive these days.  Whenever I go out, I take my husband's smaller/cheaper car.  Those MF's at the top who are just bilking the crap out of us are gonna get it.  Karma is a bitch ladies and germs...so watch out!!!!  And while we are on that subject....we just got a $741 bill for an oil delivery.  A-holes.

I love to go out to eat.  (This will be SEVERELY curtailed, do to gargantuan levels of costs associated with bringing your kid to the doctor, buying overpriced food at the supermarket, or doing any of those bulltoggin necessary things we all have to do to live...which all involve....DRIVING on $4.25 gas.)  Anyhoo, I love someone leading me and my family/friends (whatever) to a CLEAN table, asking ME what I would like to drink, and browsing a long and splendiforous menu with all yummy things on it and then ordering what tickles my taste buds and then COOKING and BRINGING said meal to the table and everyone is HAPPY to eat it (no complaints this tastes yucky...what is this gross thing,  I hate that smell...) and then they come and CLEAN it all up and I get to sashay away doing NOTHING.  What a wonderful thing.  

I detest summer time TV.  My only complaint about summer.

Peace out people.  See you all soon!  

School's Out For SUMMER!

WHAT I WOULD LIKE TO DO WITH MY KIDS THIS SUMMER:

Go to the beach
Go to Walden Pond
Go to the DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park
Go to Canobie Lake Park (and ALL ride the corkscrew coaster TOGETHER!)
Go to the ICA
Ride my bike alongside my children
Encourage them to read
Turn the playhouse into a real boy's clubhouse
Continue to stimulate their minds with summer bridge activities
Take a much needed break from television and video games

WHAT I WILL PROBABLY DO WITH MY KIDS THIS SUMMER:

Go to Canobie Lake Park (and ride the corkscrew coaster alone! Chickens!)
Yell at them to stop fighting
Threaten suicide/homicide (weekly occurrence)
Pull my hair out
Run alongside Child#2 as he wobbles without training wheels (gasping for air)
Sit through 3 hours of demolition derby at the Marshfield Fair
Hold my nose in disgust when using the bathroom at the Y outdoor pool
Run around like a crazy woman because Child #2 has disappeared (weekly occurrence)
Hang onto my shit until camp starts
Rejoice at the first day of school

Suspiria US Trailer

Facing our Childhood Fears

When I was a child I had a love/hate relationship with fear. The thrill of a roller coaster outweighed the fact that I practially fudged my pants waiting in line to go on it. I loved to watch Creature Features every Saturday night, cultivating my relationship with Frankenstein, the Wolfman and Dracula (as well as Godzilla and Gamera). As I entered my teen years, my father fed this relationship by taking my sister and I to grown up horror films. One memorable double feature: Burnt Offerings and Demon Seed.

During one of my moviegoing outings, the trailer for Suspiria came on. The slightly off-key sing song voice and just barely evident slo-mo footage immediately tipped me off that something about this movie just wasn't right. When the woman turns to reveal...well, you'll see. I think I wet my pants. I KNOW that at future movies, when the trailer was shown I hightailed it out of the theater, waiting till it had passed before returning to my seat. One of my most vivid memories is staying up late to watch "Mary Hartman Mary Hartman" on my tiny black and white set. During a commerical break what should beging??? THE DAMNED SUSPIRIA TRAILER!

I remember shutting off the set immediately, and getting ZERO sleep that night.

Fast forward 30+ years later... The advent of the internet allowed me to do a google search for Suspiria Trailer and sure enough, YouTube had SEVERAL postings of it. My heart beat loudly as I clicked the play button on my screen. A small voice inside said 'Don't do it!" and other said "C'mon you chicken shit, you're 45!!!"

I watched the trailer. And then it hit me: Wow, that was lame.

I showed my 10 year old the trailer and he LAUGHED at me and said "THAT actually scared you?" (wse'll see if he has bad dreams tonight.)

But it taught me two lessons:

You should always face your fears, especially your old ones.
You can find ANYTHING on the internet!

My idea for a new Master Card commercial

My husband had a very specific way in which he wanted to spend Father's Day. We went along with his plan and the aftermath made me think of those Master Card commercials we all love so much:

4 Person Canoe Rental: $85
2 Additional life vests: $20
Sunscreen and bug spray: $15
Picnic lunch: $20
Communing with nature with your wife and two sons : Priceless

P.S. Accidentally leaving behind 3 of the 4 rental vests and both paddles: $160!!!!

Short but sweet

I apologize for the gap between posts. That being said...

Yesterday I went to my son's 4 grade memory day. In our town, children attend middle school starting with the 5th grade (!) 4th grade memory day is designed to do 3 things:

1) Applaud the 4th grader's achievements from the past five years.
2) Send them on their way to middle school.
3) Make their parents cry like babies.

As soon as the slide show and Celine Dion music began, the tears started flowing. As I watched photo after photo of my son and his friends commemorate each moment from Kindergarten through the present, I desperately tried to control the waterworks with the stash of tissues I had stuffed in my purse. My husband was able to avoid this by viewing the montage with his video editor's "eye", winicing in pain at each poorly executed music transition. The pinnacle of his pain was having to sit through "We Built This City" by Starship, voted the worst song ever made (he's a product of hippies and can't stand to see how Jefferson Airplane morphed into Starship... but that's another blog)

Following the graduation ceremony, there was a bbq for parents and children at which we marveled over how quickly our kids had gone through the 5 years of school. This is nothing new to parents, we all have trouble wrapping our minds around how fast our children grow and change.

Last night, as my husband was reading stories to my kids at bedtime (yes, we still read to them, though the 10 year old has long been able to read for himself...they just like it and so do we!) I was lying on my couch in the living room, reading a book of my own and absently fiddling with the petals of a peony on the table beside me. I had cut the peonies on Wednesday night for a get together, and here it was, two days later, falling apart at an alarming rate.

I think peonies are beautiful, fantastic smelling flowers. But like lilacs (my other favorite) they are only enjoyed for a short period of time. All too soon the blossoms curl up, or the petals fall off. The fragrance lingers in the air even after its obvious that the stems and petals should be composted.

It reminded me of my children's youth. For an all-too-brief stretch of time our children are sweet, innocent, wholly enjoyable beings. Too soon they adapt to the harsh world around us, concerning themselves with peer pressure, teacher expectations, an uncertain future as adults themselves.

Sure it would be nice if our kids were like carnations, a flower that can hold its shape and fragrance for an unbelievable length of time (too long if you ask me). But the carnation isn't that pretty, nor does it smell that nice. Its actually one of those flowers that I feel guilty throwing away because it stays fresh long after I get sick of looking at it.

So my kids are peonies and lilacs. Sweet, intense, beautiful and a joy of nature. Like the peony, I need to enjoy my children's youth while I have it, since before I know it they will be moving on to teenage and adult years. Sure, they will still be my loving, incredible children, but that intense period of youth will fall aside like the petals of the flowers I enjoy so much, too fast, too soon.

Imaginary Friends Redux

Last night my 10 year old son lost a tooth while brushing before bed. We placed it in a plastic bag, stuffed it under his pillow (along with a note he wrote to the tooth fairy, asking her just what she does with all those teeth) and put him to sleep.

Then we watched a movie and promptly fell asleep as well.

This morning we woke to the sound of my son crying. At first we thought he was having a bad dream, and then it all made sense.

WE FORGOT TO BE THE TOOTH FAIRY!

As I mentioned in a previous blog, this has happened once before. At that time, it was January and we had the handy excuse of too many kids staying up too late to watch the Super Bowl.

Now what?

My husband can't believe that a 10 year old would still believe in the tooth fairy. I assured my son that we should just put the tooth under the pillow again tonight and he would get his money.

Then came the question:

"Are you the tooth fairy Mommy?"

I looked my son in the eye and asked him to repeat himself.

"Are you the tooth fairy Mommy?"

I looked at him again and said "Do you want the truth?"

Pause... "No Mommy."

"Okay", I said, "let's put your tooth under the pillow again tonight and we'll see what happens."

Let's face it, learning the truth about the tooth fairy only leads to learning about the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause.

Don't ask don't tell works for more than just the US Army.

SALE!

What is it about we women, we absolutely LOVE a sale? They say that men are the hunters and gatherers, and that we are the nesters. Some of those hunting and gathering genes made their way into our female DNA because I don't know a single woman who doesn't love hunting for a bargain. And not only that, we have to BROADCAST it!

Yesterday I complimented a friend on her nifty green jacket. "Thanks!" she replied, "I got it for 50% off at the Talbots' outlet."

Men don't get why we do this. Yes, common sense dictates that we should allow people to appreciate our purchases and assume that we have both fine taste in clothing, accessories and home furnishings AND that we have the financial standing to back it up.

We are much more interested in letting each other know about our bargain hunting prowess. When I commented on this to my friend with the nifty jacket, she said "Yeah, you'll never hear someone accept a compliment with 'Thanks, I paid WAY too much for it!'" (unless of course you're one of the real housewives of Orange County)

It's not enough we got a bargain. We have to elaborate on just how much the item would have been had we purchased it full price, how many times it was discounted and how much MORE was taken off the purchase. And if we have an additional coupon in the process: JACKPOT!

Not only are we happy to share our bargain stories with each other, we will go out of our way to help our fellow female hunter/gatherers get the same deal! My good friend "M" emails me links to shoes in my freakishly large size that are on clearance (so thoughtful!) If we see something we know a friend wants on sale, we call them immediately or grab it quickly and purchase it for them (hey, you can always return it!) And this generosity is not limited to our good friends. TOTAL STRANGERS HELP EACH OTHER OUT IF IT MEANS GETTING A DISCOUNT!

Case in point: Yesterday I shopped for a bathing suit in the Lands End section of Sears. Although I knew that I needed a well-made bathing suit that would carry me through the summer (pool, beach, etc.) I was spurred into action by the fact that the Lands End suits were all 30% off. I got to chatting with another woman in the swimsuit section (yes, I will talk to ANYONE!) and as we approached the register, I let her make her purchase first. Well wouldn't you know, she had a coupon for $25 off her Lands End purchase. When I commented on how lucky she was to have such a coupon, the clerk (thinking we were fast friends and shopping buddies) said, "You can use it more than once if you like". Well, my new friend turned around, handed me the coupon and I got $25 of MY order too! TOTAL STRANGER! I thanked her, gave her the coupon back, asked her name and told her to have a great day. So THANK YOU MARY BETH FROM WEYMOUTH!

You've heard of the brotherhood of men?
It 'aint nothing compared to the sisterhood of bargain shoppers!

Lucky 13

It boggles my mind that 13 years ago today I said "I do" to the most amazing man I have been fortunate enough to meet. It seems like yesterday we were planning our wedding, choosing menu selections and picking out flowers.

And here we are, 13 years later, suburban homeowners, 2 kids, firmly entrenched in middle age.

Where did the time go?

My husband is my best friend and although we get caught up in the day to day minutiae of house/kids/bills/work, I sometimes have to stop and remind myself that the man who shares my bed each night is still the funniest, smartest, cleverest, most thoughtful person on the planet.

Some friends comment on how little husband-bashing I engage in. Another says that she thinks my husband and I are the happiest couple she knows. Is our marriage perfect? Far from it. Does it need work? Always. Do we quit when things get tough. Never.

When things start to bug me (as you all know they do) and I start to stress about car repairs and camp fees and calls from the principal, I need to just take a breath and realize that when my better half comes home, no matter what the issue, we will tackle it together.

Happy Anniversary Mr. Flossy! I LOVE YOU!

Mother to one, mother to all...

Did you ever notice... (yikes, I sound like ANDY ROONEY!)

Let me start again:

I've discovered that in my mothering of two children, I have suddenly become a mother to the world.

Yes, your DNA changes when you have children. Your eyesight becomes sharper (you can see behind you, through walls and under tables and know immediately what your children are doing...)

Like the member of a S.W.A.T. team, your senses become more accute and aware. When your child moves from your side in a store or on a beach, you are immediately aware of this and perform a military-style sweep of the area until your child is located.

When a child coughs in the middle of the night, you are instantly awake and rushing to his side. When they are about to vomit, you get there in DOUBLE TIME.

But these reactions are not limited to my own children.

If I am out shopping, I will suddenly cringe when I hear a particularly nasty cough coming out of the mouth of someone else's child. Having heard too many coughs come out of my asthmatic son's mouth, I can't help but empathize.

At a Pampered Chef show this past weekend, not only did I hear that same cough, but I heard that familiar hmmmmmmmm of the nebulizer we've used for so many years. Since we've mostly retired our nebulizer, it was somewhat nostalgic (and somewhat disturbing) to hear that again.

When a child cries in honest pain or suffering, my heart breaks. When I see a child being mean to another child (not mine) I still want to admonish them to be kind to each other.

The only exception to this rule is when I am out in public and hear a child having a screaming meltdown. At that point, I just smile sympathetically at the mother and wander away, happy that this is someone else's nightmare for a change.

The other day, while my children were at school, I went to a sub shop to pick up a sandwich for lunch. There were several young men in line ahead of me, laborers by the look of them, probably in their early twenties. One was munching on a bag of potato chips, waiting to place his order. He dropped a chip on the floor, picked it up, looked around for a trash can (there was none) looked around again and at this point I blurted out "DON'T EAT THAT!" He smiled sheepishly and said "I was just thinking about that, since I couldn't find a garbage can". Then his friends started in on him:

"I'll give you a dollar to eat that! C'mon, a dollar man! Do it! Do it! Do it!

And of course, the guy popped the chip into his mouth and ate it. He smiled at me and said "Hey, a dollar's a dollar."

Mother to the World.

A mother's value....

Yesterday I saw an article regarding what a stay-at-home mom's value is in terms of salary..........$117,000 per year.   Now what do you all think of that?  Honestly, I believe there is no way you can put a monetary value on what we mom's do (working or stay at home).  It's endless, sometimes thankless, and certainly...priceless.

So for all those times......

you chase a two year old around while trying to get some laundry put away,

you wake in the middle of the night to a coughing, puking, or high fevered child,

you listen to the heartbreak of a girl or boy's first love,

you clean-up and pick-up... not only the kid's underwear, but your husband's too,

you do endless laundry, shopping and cleaning so your family has a nice home,

you volunteer for every school event or field trip,

you cook meals that no one will eat...YUCK..what is this?,

you rock a sick baby whose cries cannot tell you what is wrong with them (ear infection, gas, tired???),

you pack up a family and take them to the beach, park, hotel for some family fun,

you drive them to a friends house every day or a friend comes over every day,

you deliver the forgotten homework assignment, lunch or project,

you have a never ending supply of hugs and kisses,

did you ever think you could love someone so much as your children?  

Happy Mother's Day!!!

Weight...Loss...

This week I was devastated to lose a very dear companion. We have been together for a while now, and while it's always hard to be with someone who tells you the brutal truth, when they are gone it leaves a hole that nothing else can fill.

This week I lost my scale.

Actually, LOST is not the right word, it was forcibly taken from me. A good friend who has ridden the weight loss roller coaster with me came over and took it from under my dresser. Why did she take it? BECAUSE FITFREAK TOLD HER TO!

Why did she take it? Her thought was that if I didn't have a scale with which to OBSESSIVELY weigh myself, I would be forced to keep track of the food I put in my mouth or suffer the consequences.

Talk about breaking hard habits. Kicking the smoking habit was NOTHING compared to this. My morning routine was RUINED! Wake up, pee, remove pajamas, get on scale, replace pajamas, grab coffee. Now it's just wake up, pee, wonder what my weight might be and then head straight for the coffee.

To continue with the smoking analogy (because not too long ago I was a smoker too, traded one compulsion for another...) Those of you who smoked, do you remember how a nice meal just wasn't complete without a cigarette afterwards? Well the same holds true of my scale. When I come from the bathroom after a particularly satisfying poop (yeah, TMI, I know!) I would immediately strip and get BACK ON THE SCALE to see how many ounces I shed. The same holds true of exercising. Go for a good walk/run/spin/aerobics class. Get on the scale.

So here I am, scale-less and wondering just where I stand before heading to the official scale at WW this week. Should I sneak into the YMCA locker room and see what that one says? Should I pay a quarter for those HIGHLY ACCURATE scales you see in the foyer of K-Mart? Should I break into my friend's house and try to weight myself while she's out doing errands?

Or maybe...maybe I should just stop stuffing my face full of crap and let the chips (CHIPS!) fall where they may when I get to weight watchers.

Sigh. Goodbye old friend. I miss you more than you'll ever know.

Breakfast: It's What's For Dinner!

How many moms out there feel like they are running a restaurant? Oooo, I see EVERYONE is raising their hands (yes, I can see you, the miracle of the internet!)

Last night Fitfreak and I had a conversation about dinner. What prompted this was the fact that I had had the stomach bug and was still pretty tired and just not mentally prepared to deal with the evening meal. I had asked my husband (via phone) if he thought it would be all right if I just ordered a pizza to be delivered for them. His response:

(LOOOOOOONNNNNGGG PAUSE) "Uh, okay".

Clearly it was not okay, and when I asked him why the hesitation he said "Well, didn't they just have Burger King on Friday?"

Granted, I don't want my kids eating fast food day after day. But for the love of God, I was sidelined with the stomach bug (to be fair, no puking, just chills, headache, stomach ache, nausea, body aches and exhaustion). I know it may not seem like much, but making dinner for my family is a HUGE venture. Why?

One child likes rice but doesn't like potatoes. The other likes potatoes but doesn't like rice. My husband has SEVERE FOOD ALLERGIES. And I am trying to lose weight. My kids like roasted chicken but not chicken breasts made on the grill or any other way. My older son likes spaghetti, nachos, tacos, sausage soup, steak and hamburgers. THAT'S IT! My younger son is more adventurous. He will try a variety of foods. Plus, my husband doesn't get home till almost the children's bedtime. Do you see where I'm going with this?

Some nights I'm tempted to just give them a PB&J and be done with it (though the younger one needs it without the "J". AAARRGGGH!) But then a friend's voice comes back to haunt me: "You need to give your kids a hot meal every night!"

And that's where Breakfast comes in! Nothing better for dinner than fryin' up some bacon and making pancakes. It's hot! It's fresh. Everyone will eat it (okay, I won't but I can always have a salad!) and it also has NO NUTRITIONAL VALUE WHATSOEVER!

Personally, I think the pizza would have been better.

Free Range Kids

Have you heard this story yet?  A mom from NY City allowed her 9 year old son to take the subway home from a department store in the Upper East Side to Manhattan, by himself.  She calls it.."free range kids" and insists that she did nothing to put him in danger and was allowing her son to use his independence and skills of maturity.  Huh.  She also insists that we, as a society, are far too overprotective of our children.  Huh, again.  This got me thinking.  Am I too overprotective of my three children?  Well, maybe a bit.  I don't allow them to walk on busy streets alone, they are not allowed to have friends in the house if I am not here, they accompany me and stay with me inside stores, and I insist my husband take my boys to the mens room so they don't meet some sicko molester in the Wal-Mart men's bathroom.  

On the other hand, I allow my 9 year old son to run to his friend's house in the neighborhood (ditto with the other kids), he has an air soft pellet gun, he has a electric motorcycle that goes 7 MPH, my daughter can stay home for short periods of time while I run an errand or drop a sibling off at a play date, my youngest (who has Asperger's Syndrome) is allowed to walk to the mailbox by himself (around the corner and out of my view) and also to the neighbor's to play. They sometimes sit in the car while I run into a store to purchase bread or milk (all three are in the car at once...safety in numbers?).  I've drilled them all on what to do if approached by someone they don't know..... screaming, clawing, kicking, biting...my daughter has a cell phone so I can keep tabs on her.  But is this all TOO PROTECTIVE?

I was reminiscing about my youth.  I grew up in a large family, I was #5 out of 6 kids.  We lived in a small seaside community and had neighbors who also had large families.  We would run through the neighborhood (we did live on a pretty busy street, but had a nice side street that was less traveled and perfect for hide and seek, bike riding etc.).  We would spend hours and hours outside and I rarely remember my mother scanning the hood looking for us.  She was too busy keeping house for 8 people.  The laundry alone!  Yikes!  

One evening during my bookclub, we had a remember when you were a kid and your parents let you did________.  I am proud to say that I won that little contest.  How?  Well, my sweet and well meaning mother would drop myself and my older and younger brother off at the local beach.  I think we were ages 11, 9, and 7 respectively.  We had a giant inner tube from the local truck garage.  We would get on that inner tube and FLOAT DOWN THE BEACH for OVER A MILE to the next beach and there would be mom, ready to pick us up!!!!  I am NOT JOKING...although she seems to have forgotten this and claims it untrue.  Never mind we could have been sucked out in to the Atlantic and never seen again....or who knows what else.  The book club girls were aghast!  We also heard stories of walking 10 or 15 minutes to the local store to pick up a pack of cigarettes for mom or candy to fill our guts.  Guilty on that one too!  I have to laugh when I think of these stories....because you would EVER let your kids buy you a pack of butts or drop them off at the beach to float to another beach or walk to the local store to buy candy and chips?    Hah!  Yeah, right!  

Maybe we are too overprotective....but I can assure you, my 9 year old will NOT be taking the subway any time soon.

They Blinded me with SCIENCE!

Ah, the science fair. Or as I like to call it, the 2 hour event where my children run around and look at everyone ELSE's project (especially if there is a volcano involved) while I stand like an idiot in front of their project explaining to all the OTHER children who aren't at THEIR projects how a PAPER CLIP CAN FLOAT (hint: It's called Surface Tension)

WHY WHY WHY???? I know they think it's cool! I know they love to participate. One year, the 4th graders made a CATAPULT and you can imagine how that went over with the teachers (like the proverbial lead balloon...as a matter of fact, I think they tried to launch a lead balloon along with a sandwich, a sneaker and about a thousand other things).

Meanwhile, the parents stand around socializing, complaining about the heat and the noise and the crazy kids and for GOD'S SAKE, is it 8:30 ALREADY SO WE CAN GO HOME???

Meanwhile the principal, God love her, goes around to each child's project and asks them to explain what they did. She then hands them a trophy and a certificate which is cherished and then stuck on the shelf to collect dust with all the other unwarranted trophies (but more about that ANOTHER time! I have TWO trophies, one I got for coming in third in a ski race and the other from a video I produced in college. My 10 year old has, oh lets see, about TEN!)

All for the love of science. I sure hope someone ELSE is growing mold this year! I just lOVE seeing those crusty pieces of bread and cheese with green and blue fuzz all over them. When I did a science fair in Jr. High School, I remember a friend did a disection of a fetal pig (my poor mother picked the wrong day to bring me a ham sandwich for lunch!) There will be the obligatory baking soda volcanoes, about a thousand Tornadoes in a Bottle, a few lemon/potato-powered clocks (they never seem to work, do they?) Then there will be my 10 year old with his Lego Robotics crew. They've programmed the robot to disco dance to the C&C Music Factory song "Gonna Make You Sweat". My 7 year old will be demonstrating how to make the paper clips float.

For this I am giving up a night of Survivor??

Ugggggg

My daughter asked for a pair of those oh so fashionable (umm, not really) UGG boots for her birthday.  (She is 11)  We had already sprung for the cell phone so she hit Grandma up for the boots.   $160 dollars later and me rolling my eyes to heaven and above...she was in those boots made for walking...lookin' saucy.  

Fast forward one month later...I had to run outside quickly and the only shoes available were the UGGS.  I put them on, found that they FIT me (scary her 11 year old foot and my 37 year old foot are the same size) and most amazingly they were the most friggin comfortable footwear I have EVER experienced in my life.   It truly was like walking on a cloud!  Soft, warm, squishy...oh yeah, baby....everything that they claimed to be.

So, I decide I am going to get my own pair of UGGs...even though I really do think they are sort of UGG-ly.  But whatever.....fashion vs. comfort?  Comfort can win out sometimes, right?  I do some research on the web and am about to plunk down the $160 for a cute little pair of Black UGG shorts.  Weeeee!  I am psyched.  Uh-oh.....just as I am about to click "place order"....I get called away from the computer to break-up a full-fledged lego fight.  Sigh, I never got to order the UGGS.  Well, funny thing happened.  I ended up wearing my daughter's UGGs the next day to run a few errands.  I went to bed and the next morning I woke up with a mega rash up and down my legs.  I am ALLERGIC TO UGGS.  WTF?  Who would have thought?  I've always been the "wool bothers me makes me itchy kinda gal"....but a rash after wearing sheepskin boots?  Mental.  All I can say is I am real glad that lego fight happened, otherwise my daughter would have ended up with a cute pair of black/short UGGS and I would be $160 in the hole.

45 and still alive!

I am 45 today. What does this mean?

1) 25 years ago I was 20 (!) 25 years from now I will be 70!!!
2) I will have to check a different box on surveys that ask your age range.
3) I am on the "hump year" of my 40's (kind of like Wednesday is the hump day of the work week,...)
4) I am in the WORST physical shape of my life. Lovely
5) Menopause is right around the corner, beckoning me with a crooked finger.
6) I am 15 years away from a discounted cup of coffee at McDonald's.
7) I am 10 years away from qualifying for membership in AARP!
8) I am most DEFINITELY middle aged! If I live to be 90, that is.
9) I can finally appreciate all the complaints of aches and pains my parents have been grumbling about all these years.

10) And the most important part of being 45 is...

I have an amazing family, incredible friends, a wonderful life, all my mental faculties and I have rediscovered my love of writing after too many dormant years.

So here's to being 45! It's sure better than the alternative!

In the Blink of an Eye

Ten years ago this minute I was lying in a hospital bed, cursing my husband (silently) and wondering how the hell they were going to get his BABY OUT OF MY BODY!!!

Today, that baby is ten! TEN!

Yes, people tell you to cherish every moment because childhood is fleeting (but apparently adolescence seems to last freakin' FOREVER!) It's hard to cherish those wont-go-to-sleep-dig-in-your-heels-and throw-a-tantrum-hey-Mom-I'm-projectile-vomiting-sorry I put chewing-gum-in-my-brother's-hair-moments. I am all too guilty of wishing my kids were a little bit older, a little more independent, a little less needy.

Shame on me.

The birthday boy kissed me today (yay, 10 years old and still kissing his mother goodbye!) and walked off to his first soccer game of the season. As I noticed the top of his head at my EYE LEVEL, I realized that 6 years from now he will be driving. 8 years from now he will vote. 11 years from now he will be able to drink.

I am NOT one of those mothers that needs a baby fix every other year (thus ending up with 5 or 6 children or, gulp, 10 or 12!!!) All attitude aside (and yes, I'm already getting PLENTY OF THAT!) I enjoy my children more now that they are older. Instead of trying to figure out why they are upset or angry or frustrated, they can JUST TELL ME!

I know it will be only a few short years until communication ceases altogether (the aforementioned teenage years), so I am going to try to follow the advice I've been given.

Cherish every single moment.
Happy Birthday Xander!

The Differences Between Friends

My good friend and I are so alike in many ways:

We hail from the same state. I moved here 26 years ago (WOW!) when I attended college, she moved here more recently after her husband transferred jobs. That home state connection is a strong bond between us, in that both of us travel back throughout the year to visit family and friends. We often travel on the same dates, and once we were on the same highway returning home, a mere 30 exits apart.

We both have FOOD ISSUES! She and I have tried any number of hair-brained schemes to lose weight and get in shape ("back on track" are our three most repeated and most HATED words!) We've done Weight Watchers together, worked out together, done fitness challenges together... When we are good, we share low-point recipes and suggestions. When we are bad we regale each other with our food binges, each of us cheering the other on when we've hit a new high (or low as the case may be)in the amount of peanut butter M&Ms consumed.

We both enjoy movies! We love nothing better than sneaking off together in the middle of the school day and watching some awesome (or awesomely BAD!)movie. We'll both smuggle in our ziploc bag of popcorn and our contraband soda (and if we're are OFF TRACK then a large bag of twizzlers or the aforementioned peanut butter M&Ms). With some friends I feel obliged to sit silently through the movie, but this friend and I feel completely free to rank on any and every impossible plot twist in whatever we are seeing!

Case in point...We saw "Vantage Point" yesterday. Not to give anything away (SPOILER ALERT!) but these terrorists spend the entire movie killing about fifty billion people in a most UNBELIEVABLE plot. At the end of the movie, they are racing to get away through the streets of Spain in an ambulance and they suddenly see a little girl standing in the middle of the road. The evil she-terrorist shrieks "Watch Out!" while the evil male terrorist cuts the steering wheel sharply, missing the little girl and swerving wildly out of control! I yelled, "Oh right, let's not hit the little girl!" while my friend yelled "Yeah, we've only just killed everyone else in this movie already!"

You can't beat that kind of kismet.

But while we have so many similarities, it is our differences that I often dwell on.

I have always cared too much about what people think. This self-consciousness has impacted nearly every aspect of my life. I'm not complaining, I've managed to adopt a more "who cares" attitude as I advance through middle age.

My friend, on the other hand, will not hesitate to speak her mind regardless of the situation. She recently told me that she took a gas station attendant to task when he was speaking on his cell phone while pumping her gas. While I probably would have just crossed my fingers and hoped for no explosion, she pointedly told him to end his call. WHen he didn't she threatened to start the car and drive off with THE PUMP STILL ATTACHED! When he protested that she had a better chance of being hit by lightning than by her car catching fire from a spark at the pump, her reply was "If I want to take that chance I will, but I'm not going to let you take a chance with MY life!"

She is a fierce advocate for her children. She will not back down from any teacher, counselor, karate instructor or other mother when it concerns the health, safety and well being of her children. I'd like to think that I would act accordingly with my children in similar situations, but I know myself too well. I act as an advocate for my children too, but that little voice in the back of my mind is always there, warning me not to be a nudge because otherwise people won't like me!

My friend also has a kindness and a generousness of spirit which I completely admire (even if I can't understand it!) If I'm driving and someone gives me the finger, I fantasize about running them off the road and making a break for it. My friend blows them a kiss instead.

Recently, while grocery shopping she realized she had forgotten her store discount card and asked the clerk (an elderly man) if he had a card at his register he could run through instead (most of the clerks do!). He flat out refused and while they went back and forth for a time, she ended up not getting her sale prices When she told me this story, I was OUTRAGED! I railed about how awful the clerk was, how inconsiderate, what an evil, petty person! My friend just sighed and said ,"Who knows, maybe he just found out some awful news about his wife." (I would have been plotting my revenge with a grocery cart after store hours.)

In spinning the other day, she was too late to get a spot in the class. I was disappointed, but my disappointment quickly turned to anger, then rage when the bike next to me, which had a water bottle and a sweatshirt draped on it, remained EMPTY for the first 15 minutes of class. (Someone else who had been shut out poked her head into the room and I told her to take the bike, dammit!) When I told my friend about this afterwards, again, I worked myself up into a frenzy, damning whomever would be so thoughtless to claim that bike for themselves and not use it!(or for someone else...I'm still not convinced it wasn't someone in class claiming a bike for a friend...) My friend turned to me and said, "Maybe something came up that prevented them from spinning. You don't know."

I guess you would call this kind of attitude optimism, but I always lump that word in with the whole glass half empty/half full debate. My friend is always willing to give the other person the benefit of the doubt. She assumes the best about total strangers instead of the worst. To my knowledge, the only two people she has EVER expressed a negative opinion about are Oprah Winfrey (she HATES that Oprah is on the cover of her own magazine EVERY month) and Rachel Ray ("...overexposed, annoying voice and her hands are as big as catcher's mitts...").

I wish I could be more like my friend. I told her this and to my surprise she launched into all the ways that she admires me where she falls short (knowledge of current events, computer savvy, and my ability to embrace things head on).

This made me realize that it is our similarities that initially bring us together, but it is our differences that make our friendships interesting.

Here's to ALL of my incredible friends!

Orange You Glad You Read This???

There was a carrot in my spinning class today.

Let me just start by stating that my spinning class begins at 6:00 A.M. Typically, Mr. Flossy is the one who gets up and goes to the gym in the early morning before work. However, one morning a week (and ONLY one morning a week!) I haul my fat, lazy ass out of bed so I can spin early and get my workout done. That leaves me all the time that the kids are in school to do the OTHER things that need to get done.

Originally, my friend Katy taught the 6am class, and I swore that I would never get my ass out of bed that early for anyone else. But then her schedule changed and she couldn't do 6am anymore (hooray! an excuse not to get up so early!) A new instructor took over. His music is great, his class is as challenging as any I've taken before and I soon realized that I would still be rolling out of bed, groping for coffee at the crack of dawn one morning a week.

Here is the downside to the class:

While there are still a handful of "regulars" left over from Katy's class, there are now a greater number of taut, lean hardbodies spinning away at ridiculous RPMs with little effort. Turns out, many of them are members of an elite club of triathletes, and this class apparently is part of their training. So while my buddies and I huff and puff through the class, trying desparately not to vomit, these freaks (come on now, what else would you call someone whose heart rate probably doesn't even hit 100 bpm while grinding out 200 RPMs at heavy tension?)glide through, guzzling down bottle after bottle of powerade and vitamin water, blotting their over-sweaty bodies with their Shape Magazine towels (and yet there are still pools of sweat on the floor under their bike..EWWW!)

Anyway, back to the carrot.

There is a woman who attends this class religiously, I have never seen her miss one yet. She is thin, taut, cut without an ounce of fat on her body. Her hair is usually pulled back in a neat braid, and though she sweats like a racehorse during class (I saw a sweat droplet hanging off her nose this morning for 1/2 a song!) she looks like she could spin for HOURS and not get tired. She sits diagonally to me and I can't help but envy how healthy and athletic she looks. Not too skinny, not too muscular, exactly what every woman would want to achieve. DAMN HER!

Then today I happened to notice that she was a peculiar shade of ORANGE! Given that it is still early spring, I came to the following conclusions:

She went on vacation recently, somewhere warm.
She invested heavily in a local tanning salon and is taking her dividends in spray or tanning bed sessions.
She bought a case of self-tanner and took a bath in it last night.

Now I am HOPING that its option #3, because I have heard that the spray tan at salons can be hazardous to your organs. We all know that exposing yourself to extended tanning sessions in either UV beds or the sun can cause skin damage.

It made me wonder:

Wouldn't it be the height of irony to be in such amazing shape that you could run/swim/bike forever without growing tired? To have a body the envy of all around you? And to end up with a melanoma because you just HAD to go for that extra tanning session?

I may be lazy. I may be overweight. But dammit, at least this blobby body of mine is as WHITE as the underbelly of a fish! I may kick the bucket from any number of other ailments, but it WON'T be from skin cancer.

Ride on oh mighty carrot, ride on!

No More Words

I was in Victoria's Secret today buying a pair of panties (by the way, Mr. Flossy is gonna LOVE 'em!) and it got me thinking about a couple of friends of mine who are TOTALLY freaked out by the word...

Panties.

Huh. When I first heard this, I of course immediately started saying the word "panties" out loud over and over just to see their reaction. One put her finger in her ears, the other cringed and threw up her hands in a very Charles Nelson Reilly kind of way. These girls are sisters, by the way, and in addition to this weird quirk, they also have phobias about, respectively, coins and Teletubbies.

But that's a blog for another day!

Getting back to the word panties. (I'm sure they are cringing right now if they happen to be reading this blog!)

Their OTHER sister, a good friend of mine, told me that she isn't thrilled with the word panties, but she doesn't have as violent a reaction to it as she does to the word "squat". Unfortunately, she happened to reveal this to me while in the car with my older son. With his empathetic nature inherited from his mother, my son immediately started saying "squatsquatsquatsquatsquatsquat".

After polling a few OTHER friends, I've compiled a list of words that my friends really don't like:

Ointment
Salve
Tunic
Folks
Bisque
Creamy
One-Cup (?)
Scrotum (can't blame her for THAT one!)

Personally, I don't care for the words smock, buttocks or pinnies (as in, "We're going to have a scrimmage between this team and that team, would one team please put these pinnies on).

I would prefer that you cover up your buttocks with a smock or a pinnie!

If anyone out there has any words that really set their teeth on edge, please feel free to post them to the comments section. I'd love to know that there are other freaks out there, just like us!

Fight the Good Fite (ha ha!)

Apparently, Fitfreak and I aren't the only ones peeved by cutesy signs and GRIEVOUS misspellings! I read in the Boston Globe today that there are two men traveling across country trying to fix signs with spelling and grammatical errors. Armed with white-out, markers, ink, pens and tape, Jeff Deck and Benjamin Herson are traveling to California and back, moving apostrophes and making sure that everyone gets their just desserts (NOT DESERTS!)

"I figured, Steinbeck had his dog and Kerouac had his drugs. I'd have my typos," said the 28-year-old Deck of what he calls his Typo Hunt Across America tour.

My other favorite quote from Deck was this: It's easy to overlook and dismiss the misuse of apostrophes," he said. "But there came a point when I couldn't hold it anymore. I decided to make this a national campaign, although I was kind of looking for an excuse to travel around the country anyway."

I watched "Into The Wild" on the return plane trip from London (YES, I"M STILL TALKING ABOUT MY TRIP!) If you're not familiar with this film, it is based on the book of the same name about a young man named Christopher McCandless (aka Alexander Supertramp. Why name yourself after one of the LAMEST bands in 70's music???) Upon his college graduation, McCandless decided to give away what was left of his college fund to Oxfam, BURNED all of his pocket cash, ditched his car, and then, without any communication with his parents or sister, hitchhiked around the United States (not to mention illegally entering and exiting Mexico) and then had the monumentally brainless idea to hike out into the Alaskan Wilderness and live off the land.

A noble endeavor? A fool's errand? I can appreciate McCandless' idea of rejecting his affluent upbringing and wanting to lead a life of meaning. Unfortunately, he died alone in a broken down bus, trapped and starving in the Alaskan wilderness. (according to the Boston Globe movie review, apparently many Alaskans view McCandless as an "...idiot of classic proportions".

All that, and the bus where McCandless died has become a tourist attraction.

This got me thinking. When my children are old enough to leave the nest (thank God, that's a good 8-10 years away!) would I want them to pursue a life less shallow, as Christopher McCandless did, or would I want them hunting for stray typos and apostrophes across this great nation?

I'm willing to pay for the white-out myself.


Check out the link above to see Deck and Herson's trip across country.

Why? Why? Why?

I have an unusual name....or at least I thought it was unusual, and it was certainly not common during the 1970's when I grew up.  All my gal pals were named Amy, Jennifer, Laura, Cindy, Melissa etc.  Nice normal, easily pronounceable names.  My name wasn't exactly in the top baby names of the era.  BUT....all of my siblings had unusual names, named after far flung Irish relatives, grandparents, aging aunts....so I had plenty of shoulders to cry on if need be. 

Personal note.....NOW...I love my name.  I was named after my mother...and happy for it!  It matches my sparkling and fabulous personality!  

But what is in a name?  I have a very dear friend who works in the maternity area of a local hospital.  She regales me with hysterical stories of what some new moms are naming their babies.....and these are honest to god true....

Lemon Jello

Orange Jello

Precious Princess

Fenway

Female (pronounced Femahle)

Male (pronounced Mahle)

Ebony

Ivory

Cam'ron

Bitchy Itchy

Gladiator

Placenta

Lil Trash which turned into Letisha after threats of DSS getting involved.

And so many, many more.  Some of them are well, culturally influenced, so the spelling and pronunciation can be different...but still!!!  How the hell is Lemon Jello going feel when he is called upon at the dentists office or over the loud speaker in school? 

"Will Lemon Jello please report to the office."  "Lemon Jello, your plane is now boarding. "Repeat-  Passenger Lemon Jello, Flight 216 is now boarding. " "Lemon Jello, the doctor will see you now."  C'mon!  Are people this silly or just downright cruel?

I am convinced now more than ever that my unusual name isn't so unusual after all!  Thanks Mum!

The Oprahphication of America

I have a been a Oprah watcher for appx twenty years. I can remember the days when I was 17 and I would slug home from High School and sit down, tune in and watch the latest schadenfreude of someone else's life. I've seen it all. Her weight loss, her weight gain. Her weight gain, her weight loss. Her stories on all aspects of American life...the good, the bad and the ugly.

It is recently that I have tired of Oprah. It's not been an easy revelation, I mean I have been a devotee for 20 years!!!....but one I have unfortunately come to. Here are some thoughts on the Oprah of 2008.

1. I am sick to death of Oprah promoting herself and her damn magazine...which she is ALWAYS on the cover of.

2. I am tired of your constant brown nosing/sucking up of celebrities that are your BFF's and the movies they are promoting. I mean, I'm all for helping out a friend....but does it have to be EVERY DAY that we are subjected to Tom, Katie, Celine, Bernie Mac, Julia, George, Jen, Halle, Denzel, so on and so on?? I don't really care about these people and their newest and greatest movie, the amount of pure energy and effort they put into their latest role and how damn hard it is being a celebrity and all that other crap. Basically they are BORING and to a degree FAKE. Every movie that they are carping about...you can be sure to hear Oprah say "oh, and audience, was this not the BEST movie you have ever seen?? Applause, hooting, applause, shrieking, applause." Really now, how can they all be the BEST? Some SUCKED. But I guess she can't say that.

3. I am done with the goody two shoes give your entire life over to being a perfect and giving person. I don't need a preacher or a sermon from you...I go to church for that. Not to be a total bitch...I know what she is trying to get at...and I admire it....but does it have to be EVERY third show? I mean I am totally all for the Girls School in Africa, the Angel Network and her new show The Big Give. But again, every THIRD show? I want smut and drama!

4. I am sooooooooooooooooooo sick of the let's find out every little thing that is wrong with ourselves, like when we stubbed our pinky toe when we were 2 and your brother called you a stupid idiot, and now you are overweight, jobless, living on $90K in credit card debit, and your boyfriend is a loser and you blame it all on that PINKY TOE. Self reflection is just that......for your SELF.

5. Do you remember when Oprah was sued for the meat thing by the Texas Cattle people? They were mad that Oprah said she wouldn't eat beef and they claimed she caused millions of people to not buy beef. I have a theory on the current economic downturn....Oprah has repeatedly told us to simplify our lives, stop spending money on dumb things (which I agree on), get rid of all credit card debt etc. Perhaps the haus fraus etc. of America are listening and acting and that is why we are in a probable recession? Seems kinda crazy...but just think about it for a second. Hmmmmm....could be a small correlation??

6. The last good show I happened to catch on Oprah was when Dr. Oz was on and she had on the guy whose skin turned BLUE from having too much of a chemical in his diet. Now, that was INTERESTING! Oprah, I want the real stories back on her show...the life and death situations, the funny stories, the sad stories, all the things of REAL LIFE.

I will NOT be tuning in to watch that philanderer Billy Joel and his new 26 year old wife tomorrow. Yet another celebrity bow down from the Queen of Media. No thanks.

I wonder who Dr. Phil has on?

Stories from my past...

I was driving to my parents house yesterday with my kids in the car and listening to some of the LAMEST music on my iPod. I admit it, I am a junkie for bad 70's pop. Luckily for my kids, they had headphones tuned in to whatever DVD they were watching so they didn't have to listen to the sappy, syrupy music from my child/teen years.

As I listened to song after song, I marveled at the way that so many 70's pop songs told stories. Not just I-wanna-funk-ya-baby, but real stories with a begininng, a middle and an end. Here are some examples (apologies to some of my younger friends who won't recognize these ditties, those of you born around the early to mid 6o's will know what I'm talking about:

The Night Chicago Died - Kid and mom freak out when Pop the Cop gets caught up in Al Capone's Chicago showdown. All ends well.

Billy Don't Be A Hero - If you're foolish enough to go to war, don't VOLUNTEER to go on a dangerous mission! Doesn't end well for Billy and the fiancee is pissed that he didn't listen to her (she throws the letter away...)

Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree - Guy gets out of prison, wants to know if his girlfriend still loves him (she does, goes to A.C. Moore with her 40% off coupon and buys out the yellow ribbon department!) Interesting how this was adapted for returning soldiers, not PRISONERS. How did that happen?

Harper Valley PTA - Don't remember the song, just the bad movie with Barbara Eden.

Ode to Billy Joe - Billy Joe McCallister jumps off the Tallahassee bridge because he developed a taste for dick (cut to Glynnis O'Connor weeping over Robby Benson's body.)

The Night The Lights Went out In Georgia - Somehow an innocent man was hung and there are bloodstains on the hands of the Georgia patrol. I think Kristy McNicol was in this movie...

Shannon - Someone's dog gets sucked out to sea, (hey, she always LOVED to swim away!)

Lonely Boy - Spoiled boy gets in a snit when his little sister is born, BOO HOO! Life sucks, get a helmet!

Run Joey Run - Girl gets knocked up, Dad goes on a murderous rampage against the boyfriend (uh, that would be JOEY), girl jumps in front of Joey to protect him, father guns down his own daughter (LOVELY!)

At Seventeen - Ugly, lonely pimpled girl bemoans her life because she SUDDENLY DISCOVERS THAT LIFE SUCKS FOR UGLY GIRLS? AGAIN, GET A HELMET! (actually, I kind of identified with this one...)

Go Away Little Girl - 7 Year old Donny Osmond is trying to fend off the attentions of some little girl because he ALREADY HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!! WTF???

My personal favorite:

Seasons in the Sun - Sorry Dad, Sory Michelle, time to die, but at least we'll have all those memories of our time in the sun. Maybe if he had used SPF 30 he wouldn't be dying.

There are many more out there, feel free to post your favorite on our comments page.
The 70's LIVE! (in my iPod that is!)