Good Things Come To Those Who Blog!

Who Needs Gucci?

2009-12-10T16:07:00.000-08:00

Last year I posted Christmas gift ideas. This year, I have only one item to promote.

(This is a subtle hint for MM to get me one.) I wonder what employees would think when you walk into a store with this? Would they insist on checking your bag before you leave? Would you let them? How far are stores allowed to go anyway? How do you shop with this bag and not get arrested?

This would be akin to walking into a bank holding a bag saying, "Bank Robber." Or, going into a restaurant buffet with a bag saying, "Binge Eater". Or, going to a movie theater with "Camcorder Pirate". Or, walking onto a Military Base with "Suicide Bomber".

I've just had a brilliant idea! This could make a really good reality show! It fits the criteria, ie - as far from reality as you can get and nothing you'd normally be interested in but you get sucked into watching it anyway.

Excuse me, I need to call Ashton Kutcher...

I've calculated your chance of survival, but you won't like it.

2009-12-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

MM has a new contract which means he has to go to Los Angeles to a city called Willowbrook. "Nice," you may say. "Work is good," you may say. "But, where is Willowbrook, exactly?" I'm glad you asked! It is smack in between WATTS and COMPTON. Which as you know, is the perfect place for a white guy to go, by himself, in an unblemished vehicle that is transmitting on all frequencies: "Car Jack Me! You Won't Be Sorry."

For the uninitiated, Watts and Compton are about the most dangerous cities in USA. So dangerous that the guys cannot work there after 3pm because that's when the gangbangers wake up and start looking for something to shoot. A white man from out of town is considered a perfectly good target. I told MM he needs to look more inconspicuous. "Try to look less white! Don't walk like that! That's a white man walk! Wear your pants lower! Why are you tucking in your shirt?" It was hopeless. MM looked like a white guy failing to look like a brown guy.

Plan B. Whine. "Can't you send someone else to do it? Someone less racially challenged?"

No. MM can't send an employee somewhere where he wouldn't go himself. Stupid ethics.

Plan C. Go with MM to the work site. Protect him. Act all Hispanic. What? I can so do it! I've been to Mexico and they all think I'm related. Everybody spoke Spanish to me. All I could reply was, "Donde está el baño?" ("Where is the toilet?") Even my extremely rugged accent and out of context question didn't convince the Mexicans that I had no Español, I was that convincing. I can totally get all gangster on someone.

In my dreams.

I think Plan D is the best. Send C with him. She already dresses like a hobo so she can lie on the street in a sleeping bag with the other vagrants, and keep an eye on her dad. Call the cops if anything goes down. I'm sure with a bit of incentive, i.e. some more smelly old sweat pants, she'd be happy to do this.

Bobs yer Uncle.

(Pic of C, horrified that yet again, her mother has better taste in clothes than her.)

Kristina P has suggested MM wear this. Elegance and camouflage. It doesn't get any better.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen

2009-11-24T15:49:00.000-08:00

I know I'm not keeping up. I'm trying to read everyone on my google reader and I get so enthralled with everyone's posts, I run out of time to write my own. And, being honest with y'all, I've been pretty darn boring lately. Case in point...

Oprah's cancelling her talk show doesn't bother me except for the fact that she is now free to pursue her real goal - World Domination. Mark my words, there is nothing that woman can't do.

I haven't seen "New Moon" but I am very excited to go see "2012". Nothing turns me on like a movie with no vampires.

I'm gathering low-carb, sugar-free recipes for Thanksgiving Dinner. There are some unusual ingredients on my list. I'm hoping, firstly, that the cauliflower mashed 'potatoes' aren't grounds for divorce... and secondly, that Claim Jumper is open on Thanksgiving Day. Just in case.

Here's The Skinny...

2009-11-12T06:05:00.000-08:00

Look closely at these images. Yes, it's the same girl in both pics. This is Filippa Hamilton, a Ralph Lauren model. What happened to her between pic 1 and pic 2? Did she develop an accelerated case of anorexia or contract a flesh wasting disease? What ailment is it that makes her head bigger than her pelvis?

Filippa was the victim of Ralph Laurens overzealous Photoshop staff. They were given a mandate to make Filippa look like a cardboard cutout because THAT is the image they want to portray. Because THAT is what they think sells their product.

To make matters worse, RL then FIRED Filippa for being... wait for it.... TOO FAT.

If that 120 pound, five foot ten 'twig' is FAT, then there's no hope for me... I am gargantuan by comparison. I have worn RL in the past but who could possibly fit THOSE clothes?

RL did suffer a bit from the media backlash. They issued statements and withdrew the picture but not before I saw it.

As a result they have officially joined my "Companies in Cahoots With the Devil" list. I'm throwing out all of my RL products. Except my decorative throw blanket, I like that. And my cotton sheet and pillowcase sets... they were expensive... and my plaid sweater, it's really warm... or my jacket... it goes nicely with my cords... and my jeans... they fit so well, but everything else... IS GOING!

Credibility Gone

2009-11-09T06:31:00.000-08:00

When my daughter asked me what she should do about her friend using bad language around her, my suggestion was that she politely ask the friend to not say words like that in her presence. I told her that most people respond well to this request. I also mentioned that it wouldn't hurt to cultivate new friendships with less mouthy friends. I suppose I should not be surprised that my suggestion morphed between leaving the house and arriving at the schoolyard. What she said: "My mother said I can't play with you anymore unless you quit using bad language."

Perhaps her courage failed her when she approached the girlfriend, peer pressure weighing heavily on her, so she chose to remove herself from the (perceived) prudish request and instead placed the blame for it solely on me.

As a mother, I am accustomed to taking the rap for things. I've had many a conversation with teachers, grocery managers, checkout operators and youth leaders attempting to readjust their opinion of me, formed from the unfortunate choice of words my children have used. Like... "My mother told me if I didn't finish cleaning my room, I would not be allowed to eat for a week. That's why I don't have any lunch."
And, "My mother gives me so many chores... scrubbing the floors and toilets, walls and ceilings, that I don't have time for homework."
And, "I was going to hand in the $20 I found on the deli counter at Albertsons but my mother wanted it."

This is the one that had me on the phone for half an hour: "My mother told me to hit back. It's called 'self-defence'."
This is my all time favourite delivered to the school counselor... "I got this (horrendous black and purple) bruise from walking into a door. My mother didn't hit me or anything." (The child walked INTO a DOOR.)

This doesn't mean that the kids don't stick up for me at times. I have overheard C telling someone that I make a pretty good loaf of banana bread... "It tastes good, if you ignore the hard brown bits and if she uses real sugar not that fake stuff, and if she doesn't put that organic muck in it... it's not that bad."

My reputation is completely shot and it's my children's fault.

"Did you make this mum?"

Tragic But True

2009-11-08T11:36:00.000-08:00

We are all responsible for letting this happen in this country. (Ooh, ONE comment! I am feeling the LOVE!)

Thriller

2009-11-04T12:06:00.000-08:00

Now that Michael Jackson is IN again, my large MJ cd collection is impressing my daughters no end. Surprising because, just a few months ago I was constantly being told to, "Stop with the eighties music already!"

Nowadays, I might be the teensiest bit cool. I can even sing "Billie Jean" all the way through without a kid sneer.

I wonder if I was so musically fickle at that age?

(Picture of C with the Beehives after their Thriller dance at the Halloween party. Truly scary. I mean the amount of hairspray that went into this. Scary. )

Thanks for the picture Maria.

All Hallows Eve

2009-11-01T20:14:00.000-08:00

We went to a ward Halloween party. The church had been turned into a haunted house and the place was filled with the sound of kids screaming. They had games and music and fun and food. Enough food to feed a couple of third world countries. I can't tell you how much I love that about our church...

Meet Agent M from Men In Black:

Meet Zombie C...

And Queen of the Undead, A...

No smiles. Staying in character.

'Twas a great night trick or treating. A bountiful haul. I paid the kids for their candy (I do it every year, and because they love cash more than sugar, they take the money with obscene amounts of glee.)
Now, what to do with the candy? Maybe I could give the lot to Cheryl who is sending her candy to the starving children in Africa. Because every starving child needs candy. Let's face it.

ROFL J/K TTYL

2009-10-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

C: Mum, what did you do before texting?
Moi: Good grief, we SPOKE to each other! We didn't need to text a sibling to pass the salt across the table because we had the ability to open our mouths and issue forth a vocal request!
C: So, um.... what did you do?

Conversation is, apparently, a lost art. And I am, apparently, old-fashioned and mean. Because I won't give my children cell phones.

So, A called me wailing on the phone because she couldn't get a ride to the dance. "Mum! You've got to text J for me and ask her to come get me!" Well, this dilemna seemed to have an obvious solution. "Why don't you, um... I dunno, call her?!" I said.
"She won't pick up! She only texts!" (Of course, silly me! Why use a phone for TALKING?!) So ensued my initiation to texting. I sent J a text. It took twenty minutes. Is it just me or is this a really cumbersome and time-consuming way of communicating?

When you see five kids sitting in a row silently, they're not actually being silent - there is an intense discussion going on - heads tilted down, fingers hopping...

how u?
cool. u?
cool.
doing?
nuthin.
cool.

Can you see the IQs lowering?

When I tell the kids they're going to get "finger carpal tunnel" and hunch backs they look at me like I'm crazy.
When I look sideways, and scrunch my eyes a bit, I can actually see the lumps forming...

MM thinks if the situation had been reversed and talk was invented after text, then the kids would never stop talking, marveling at the ability to speak to someone far away in real time rather than typing every conversation. It just seems that communication technology is going backwards instead of forwards.

I wonder what the next NEW thing will be? Carving letters into rocks and hurling them at your friends house?

The Perils of Push-Up

2009-10-20T06:33:00.000-07:00

The only thing worse than having girls old enough to get "trainer" bras, is having to go out and buy the things. Apart from tampons, bras are my least favourite thing to purchase in public. Standing in the checkout line (i.e.- purgatory) is bad enough. Then you have to place your goods on the conveyor belt so that everyone behind you can get a better look at your cup size. At least with tampons, you can have your husband buy them for you.

But, bras are not something you can trust your husband to purchase. Not that MM has ever volunteered for the job. To be fair, it's considered perfectly normal for a woman to browse the men's undies aisles but thoroughly creepy for a man to lurk around the brassieres. Besides that, men just don't have the necessary information to navigate the confusing selection. The last time I saw a boy in the bra department, all he did was point at a padded bra and say, "Wow! Now they have BUILT-IN boobs!"

I'm not sure why they make push-up bras for twelve year olds but I am pretty sure that Satan was involved in the design of them. There is a ton of padding stuffed in there but very little actual fabric. And, they're neon coloured prints with cupids bows and lace! Oh, I must be in the wrong place. Somehow, I stumbled into the "Please Turn My Daughter Into A Ho" section.

I just want a simple supportive bra for a 'barely there' chest. That's all. She doesn't need to have a silhouette like Marilyn Munroe. She's not ready to be hurtled ~~breast~~ head first through puberty. Even though I've been told that apparently, all the girls wear these contraptions. Which tells me that their mothers have joined the Dark Side. There is nothing more disturbing than seeing ten and eleven year olds walking around with Double D's.

As for me... can I please have my baby girl for a little bit longer? Just long enough for her to realize she will never need to be "pushed up".

If she is anything like her mother, she will be wearing these soon enough...

My Bad.... Oh, So Bad

2009-10-18T22:12:00.000-07:00

Just because your pet kitty doesn't usually mind going for short rides in the car doesn't mean you should take him with you when you take the kids to school.

And, just because you forgot to do it last night doesn't mean you should take the opportunity to run the car through the car wash after dropping the kids off at school while aforementioned kitty is still inhabiting the car.

And, just because of the ripped up seats, involuntary bowel movements and unholy shrieking (causing people to stare at me in horror), doesn't mean you should shove the cat in the middle console in hopes he will calm down and shut up.

Don't assume the middle console cannot be destroyed from the inside.

Don't assume you can remove the cat from the console without having your clothes torn from your body.

Don't assume the kitty's eyes will stop rolling.

Don't assume the vet will not look at you funny.

Don't assume the doctor will not look at you funny.

Don't assume your husband and mother-in-law won't notice the diarrhea stains, then look at you funny.

Don't assume that your children will be able to sit in the car without hanging their heads out the open windows whilst gagging and choking.

Don't assume that these guys will be able to remove the poo aromas but do assume it will cost an arm and a leg.

And don't expect your friends to be sympathetic, "You're not having much luck with cats lately, are you?"

And don't tell me I should know better.

Because I obviously don't.....

...you're looking at me funny.

Dumbest Conversation Ever

2009-10-15T06:47:00.000-07:00

Moi: Can I re-use this priority mail box but instead send it parcel post?
Postal Worker: Oh, no.
Moi: Why?
Postal Worker: It's a... priority mail box.
Moi: Thank you! But couldn't I just cover it in brown paper or something?
Postal Worker: No! The mail room guys will recognize the size and know it's one of our boxes and they will send it back to you.

True story.

I wondered if I should stay with this conversation a little longer and make her look stupid in front of everyone, (my natural inclination) but thinking about what I should do rather than what I can do, (yep, those Conference talks are taking their toll) I allowed her ignorance to be just between her and me, and God.... and you. And I will be taking my brown-paper-covered-priority-mail-parcel-post-stamped-box elsewhere.

So there.

Just Call Me Killer

2009-10-14T06:26:00.000-07:00

One of those days. Don't get me started. Murphy's Law has been dominating me today. Hanging out at my house. Eating my food and wearing my shoes.

I need chocolate. And ice cream. And a box, about cat-sized. So I can bury the kitty I ran over this morning. Not on purpose. I was taking the kids to seminary when I felt this bump and heard A scream. J looked out the back window and said, "Yep it's a cat." Then, "Yep, it's dead," and proceeded to text everyone at the High School about it.

I felt so crappy. Someone's kitty. Dead. I know it's total cowardice but I'm glad the owner doesn't know who did it. That would really suck.

So, A says, "Remember the cat you ran over this morning, mum?"
(Cat, you say? Ran over, you say?)
"Well, it was my friend's cat and she's really mad at you, and ME. Thanks a lot Mum!"
(No! Thank the finger happy compulsive texting girl! The one whose mother called me to tell me that she: "...dragged the corpse to the side of the road for ya! You're welcome!")

So, everything is annoying me. Even my blog. Especially the background. Can it be any more cheerful? Purple flowers! Ugh! I need a serious background. Someone tell me where I can find a serious background. One that means business. One that says, "I don't run cats over willy willy."

And who asked that girl on the sidebar to smile so large? It's pathetic. I need to get that picture off here post haste. There's only so much happy face I can take...

And I need someone to whine to. Oh, there you are...

(changed the background... thanks for the suggestion Sherrie!)

Be Afraid... Be Very Afraid

2009-10-13T15:56:00.000-07:00

2012. This is the name of the movie I want to see this year. I plan on seeing it the day it is released (Nov 12) unless... the MPAA give it a rating above PG which is pretty much guaranteed given the depths of depravity that movies plummet to these days, turning a perfectly good storyline into unconscionable RUBBISH.

Unfortunately, what my kids aren't allowed to see, I also can't see. It's this family rule we have. And I have to stick to it.

I should be more like my friend who tells her kids, "I will go and see it first and if I think it's not suitable, you won't be allowed to see it."

Hypocrisy is SO liberating!

Back to the movie that I'll never see. This is a special five minute preview and it is pretty scary in a "It'll never happen but, what if it does?" kind of way. It offers an interesting angle on the Mayan Doomsday Prophecy.

But I don't want to ruin the buzz for you.... here 'tis...
(one small warning: there are two OMG references in here and sorry about the stupid ad that shows first!)

Moonshine Central

2009-10-11T06:30:00.000-07:00

I've been making healthy drinks for the kids. I got some probiotic kefir grains, added them to sugar water and set the jar in a cupboard. It ferments into a healthy concoction full of probiotics. Perfect for bullet-proofing your immune system. Tastes like ginger ale when it's done. At least, that's what the box said.

The kids, surprisingly, don't hate it.

M has developed quite a taste for it. He drank about four cups of it yesterday which, if I'd known, I'd have reduced somewhat. You CAN have too much of a good thing.

Husband sees the glass..."Lemme try that."
Takes a swig. All of a sudden he clutches his throat and chokes, "What is IN this stuff?"

"Whaddya mean?" I ask and grab the glass. Sniff.
"Smells okay to me."
So I try a sip and WHAM! Molten lava flamed down my throat! I felt like I'd just swallowed battery acid!

What the heck?
MM is looking at me like I just grew a third horn, (LDS joke, sorry) so I hot footed it out of there and grabbed my laptop to google a few kefir questions....

"If you leave your kefir to ferment for two days you will end up with a mix of about 2% alcohol. The longer you leave it, the higher the alcohol content..."

ALCOHOL?!!!

The kefir sat in the cupboard for SIX days!
No wonder M liked it! He was DRUNK!

MM just shook his head and walked out of the room muttering something about spousal abuse...

But what I really want to know is...

Can you go to he(( for giving your children hooch?

They're Normal, I SWEAR!

2009-10-09T09:50:00.001-07:00

M's latest entertainment is to draw groups of parallel lines on himself then walk around making beeping noises.

"Guess what I am, mum?"
"A reversing truck?"
"No."
"A martian."
"No."
"A car alarm."
"No."
"A heart beat?"
"No."
"A... um ... confused frog?"
"No."

"I give up."

"A BAR CODE! And I'm being SCANNED!"

That's what happens when you banish the PlayStation.

Then there's the decals C is putting on her butt. "What's that for?" I ask.

"Oh, these? They're my bumper stickers."

(So, I let the boy read this and he asks, "Who is this "M" person?")

Chillin' With My Sheeps

2009-10-06T05:57:00.000-07:00

Today we went to the Fall Carnival. I was quite happy to let the kids go on the spinning, vomit-inducing, whiplash causing tilt-a-whirl ride, while I strolled around to look at the animals in the petting zoo. They had a llama, a goat, a couple of small furry things that could have been rabbits and a flea bitten old camel who was so offended at my presence that he turned his backside to me no matter where I stood.

Then I noticed a sign prominently displayed that read thus:

MALE RAM
FOR SALE

I'm assuming that you are now shaking your head in disbelief. If you are instead wondering what the fuss is about - stop reading immediately and turn on the TV. You're missing your soaps.

Either the author of this sign also has Female Rams that are currently NOT for sale, or they saw me coming and they're messing with me. The latter makes more sense because I just bring that out in some people.

I admit I am a bit of a Literary Redundancy Nazi. I'm also a Punctuation Nazi and a Grammar Nazi. But only when I'm PMSing. Which I'm not right now. I'm in that happy two-day window. The first day is 'just got over it' and the second day is 'about to start'. This is the time that MM approaches me with all the things he's ruined or run over. Because he knows I am so chill during the 48 hour lull.

I'm not saying MM is a coward. On the contrary. He will dive right into the stickiest situations to help me out even if it means dragging me away from a sidewalk advertisement while I'm frantically waving my Sharpie yelling, "It just needs a COMMA!"

Not that this has EVER happened.

Halloween. The Good. The Bad. The Sugar.

2009-10-05T06:55:00.000-07:00

Y'all know I am anti-Halloween. You remember why? Not because I've been handing out tofu bars and raw almond treats and now the kids refuse to come to my house. No! They love tofu! Ask anyone!

I don't like Halloween because it is one BIG sugar obscenity. A high fructose corn syrup abomination! A night of pumpkin abuse and horror costumes that transform five year old innocents into Freddy Kruger. (I know YOU wouldn't do that. Your child is going as Harry Potter... or Hannah Montana, right?! And that's not child abuse?)

So what's the deal? Why do otherwise normal and sane (we assume) parents perpetuate the Halloween depravity year after year, contaminating children's minds and stomachs?

And, regarding the "trick" part of "trick or treat"... excuse moi, but that sounds like a threat to me. If I get egged this year, I may have to send out my attack cat. Don't laugh, he's a lethal weapon.

It's time to give Halloween a revamp. An overhaul. A jolly good smack in the bot. The Catholics have been calling for this very thing. Here's a snippet of an article I read... "Human sacrifice is still going on as well as the recruitment of many thousands of teens and young adults into witchcraft and satanism via Halloween parties." (You can read more of this stuff here if you really want to.)

Now you know - Halloween is wrong. Thanks Catholics, for having my back...

Maybe we can replace Halloween with Guy Fawkes. Now, there's a tradition worth repeating! Everyone in cahoots with England celebrates Guy Fawkes. First we make an effigy (scarecrow type of stuffed dummy) of a man who tried to blow up Parliament House in 1605. Guy Fawkes was his name and he was thwarted in his dastardly plan. We celebrate his failure by throwing his effigy on a bonfire and watch him burn chanting, "Die! Die! And die!"

In fact, I have been doing this for years. It's just good, wholesome fun.

Let's not subject our kids to intestinal carnage and creepy neighbours any longer! Let's instead practice our arson skills on a humongous bonfire and burn stuff! I'll bring the vegetarian, organic, non-sugar, soy based, dairy and gelatin-free marshmallows.

It'll be a blast!

It'll Never Happen Again Until Next Time

2009-09-29T09:13:00.000-07:00

People are getting on to me to start blogging again. I feel a little remorseful about neglecting my blog these last couple of days. After reading several ~~irate~~ comments from kind people who thought I needed some ~~rebuking~~ encouragement, I feel like a kid who ditched school and has been dragged in front of the Principal for THE INTERROGATION. "What on earth have you been doing that's more important than BLOGGING young lady????"

So, here's the thing: I'm not sick or lazy or brain dead. Well not sick anyway...
But, I lost my computer unexpectedly and if you know anything about Sudden Death Syndrome, you know there's no getting over it quickly. Ask any cyber junkie about going cold turkey and they can tell you about the nightmares, chills, nausea, sweating and suicidal thoughts. Although I have since recovered, it's still a little painful to talk about...

I'm not getting you down at all, am I?

So anyway, in the interim between throwing my laptop on the train tracks (it was AWESOME!) and getting a new laptop... my lifestyle changed. Something new was introduced to my daily schedule. Something big. Something tumultuous. Something heavy and foreboding... something called "SEMINARY."

Some of you will not be familiar with this so I will explain. It's when we take our kids to church for scripture study for an hour EARLY IN THE MORNING. BEFORE SCHOOL! AT 5.45!
A.M!

I understand that it is good for the children and A has been loving it like she's never loved the scriptures before and I like that, I really do. I think it sets her up well for the day and helps her to focus on her schoolwork. Her grades are reflecting this improvement.

But here's the thing...
It means I have to actually. Get. Out. Of. Bed. At 5am. To drive her there.
I don't do this every week because I am in a carpool with four other parents but here's the other thing...

Now that I get up early.... I go to bed early. And there goes the 11pm - 3am blog time. GONE.
KAPUT.
KABLAM.

Even though I theoretically, should still have time somewhere in the day for blogging, I haven't. You know how it is. If you don't do it at 11pm, you're never gonna do it!

Oh, I have to go. My ~~pillow~~ husband is calling me.

I'll be right back.

Rules of Engagement

2009-07-15T14:40:00.000-07:00

There's a food power play going on at my house. One kid and one parent perform a verbal duel until one or the other (usually the parent) is flayed alive. It's quite funny to watch in a masochistic kind of way. It usually takes place during the summer, coincidentally when my step kids come to stay.

Scene I, Duel I... Dad vs. Son... One Fine Morning

Dad: "What would you like for breakfast? Eggs or bacon." (En garde!)
Kid: "Neither." (Quick return jab!)
Dad: "You've got to eat something! You need your energy for all the fun we're going to have today!" (Good side step!)
Kid: "You don't have any food I like." (Counter-parry!)
Dad: "How about we go get you some food you like, buddy?" (Losing ground!)
Kid: (Unenthusiastically) "Okay." (Maintain the pain!)

Intermission

Scene 2, Duel I... Dad vs. Son... $60 Later

Dad: "Here's your cereal! Bon appetit!" (Classic feint!)
Kid: "This tastes funny. I don't like it." (First blood!)
Dad: "But you chose it! You said you like it!" (Backing into a corner!)
Kid: "It's weird tasting! We should have gone to Stater Bros! The food from Albertsons tastes bad!" (Attack!)
Dad: "Okay. We'll go to Stater Bros. later." (GAME! Set and match!)

Dad limps off stage bleeding from multiple wounds. Kid triumphantly flings the contents of his plate into the disposal, then pulls a Snickers bar from his pocket.

I'm eagerly awaiting the next scene wherein Dad parts with more hard earned currency only to have the Kid declare that the food is inedible due to it not being purchased during a solar eclipse and delivered to our door by twelve flying ninja monkeys.

Inalienable Rights

2009-07-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

MM let me borrow his laptop knowing that he will not see it for the next ten hours because I have to BLOG. I didn't have to explain that blogging is as important as breathing and is tightly and inextricably woven into the "Meaning of Life". Blogging and chocolate. The two go hand in hand. As evidenced by the brown smears of aromatic chockiness that grace MM's keyboard. I know he won't complain. He will appreciate the opportunity to snack on his ASDFG, courtesy of his loving wife.

So anyway, I was enjoying the obligatory 4th of July firework display... and quite impressive it was too... when I had a thought. Should I ever consider becoming an American citizen in the distant future, could I pass the entrance exam? I know an Australian who recently passed the test and was able to recite the Pledge of Allegiance without saying 'um' once. A tremendous feat you must admit.

So, I found an online "Could You Pass the Naturalization Test?" quiz and took it. The first question was an easy one...

"How many stripes are there on the U.S. flag?" Duh. 13.

Then the questions got harder and I was faced with this one:

"Which of the following amendments to the Constitution does NOT address or guarantee voting rights?
a) 19th Amendment
b) 24th Amendment
c) 15th Amendment
d) 7th Amendment

Say what?

Unfortunately, I only got 25% of the questions right thus FAILING to qualify to be an American. Looks like I need to attend America School. You can only be dumb if you were born here.

But seriously, could you answer that constitution question correctly?

Which leads me to a question I have...

Why does everyone gaily call out, "Happy 4th of July!"? We don't say "Merry 25th of December!" or "Happy 4th Thursday of November!" Did someone sabotage the greeting to oust the "Independence" part of Independence Day and reduce it to a fun day at the fair watching the pig races? Or, is it a slip of the tongue... an innocent omission... a lazy lippage?

The answer to the Constitution question is:
d) 7th Amendment, dummy.

DEAD!

2009-07-10T16:17:00.000-07:00

It was swift yet quiet. One death rattle then it expired, taking my link to the outside world with it.

I'm talking about my laptop, AKA "Useless Good For Nothing Piece of Crap".

I am in the library utilizing a free yet uncomfortably public desktop, lamenting the loss of all of my vacation photos, my genealogy info (ten thousand relatives down the toilet) and my schedule for the next six months. Couples are marrying, babies are being showered, and Pack Meetings are being packed without my presence.

This is the equation for my existence right now...

MOI - LAPTOP = WRETCHEDNESS.

I need a miracle. And five quarts of cookie dough ice cream. Heck, gimme ten quarts.

hors déjeuner

2009-05-20T09:21:00.000-07:00

in Paris!

C'est Magnifique!

2009-05-15T21:57:00.001-07:00

It's a special time of year! Our anniversary is fast approaching and this year we decided to forgo the traditional gift giving of previous years. Not that I didn't love my gifts. "A compost bin? For ME? Ohhh, I'm in HEAVEN!"

Nor did I eschew MM's generous offer to take me to his previous work place. "The dry dog food factory? I'd LOVE to go! Of course, I'm impressed! The dry food section smells WAY better than the wet one! You are so considerate!"

But, this year we decided to give each other a gift that transcends biodegradability ... we are going on a wee trip! We discussed it at length and MM decided he wants to go here:

and here...

while I want to go here...

and here...

So, we are going to LONDON AND PARIS!!

First we'll go to London and look at a clock. Then we will drive for two hours to pay money to join a 'tour' and walk around a pile of rubble for 45 minutes. Are you excited? Because I am.

Then, we may venture on to the London Eye, depending on whether MM can successfully bribe, cajole or otherwise convince me to step foot in it. There better be a REALLY BIG bar of chocolate preceding me on to that thing...

Then on to Buckingham Palace to watch the changing of the guard. These guys can stand still for hours balancing a wombat on their heads. Now that's talent!

Then we will ride in this super fast metal snake that travels UNDER the sea... which won't freak me out at all. I mean, there's plenty of air and no reason to worry about the billions of tons of earth and water above me while I am shooting through a narrow subterranean tunnel at a thousand miles an hour. No reason to worry at all.

So, if I survive the train ride to gay Paree, I will be in need of sustenance to calm my nerves! To the patisseries and chocolatiers toot sweet!

I may never come home or at least, not 'til the money runs out. Which will be soon. As it is, MM already has to sleep in the car for two nights...

And Then There Were Three

2009-05-07T15:37:00.000-07:00

I wasn't surprised that Allison got the boot on AI. She's a great kid but she was seriously out-gunned. Adam is a professional entertainer who can distort perfectly good songs and get away with it. I don't want to like him but he has this whole "charisma, good looks, insane vocal range and blue hair" thing going for him. It's a winning combination.

Danny has some skills though I was a bit worried that his final note, a Psycho-esque screech, would kill the Gokey buzz. It didn't. His fans aren't going to let a little pig squealing change their minds about him. Here is the Gokster's final notes from his infamous rendition of "Scream On" oops, I mean... "Dream On." I hope you have the stomach for it.

Kris was the sweet one who's GINORMOUS female following kept him in contention. He has shown some stamina and skill in the last few weeks and I think I underestimated him. I liked how he sang the Beatles, "Come Together", though the judges lambasted him for it. Shut up judges.

I won't even comment about Paula's little dance number. Nooo comment.

OK, maybe just a little comment. Crappy lyrics, old moves, ho-hum.

And, what's with Gwen Stefani? She jerked herself around the stage, leaped all over the audience, nearly wiped out jumping off the riser and generally looked like an eedjit.

Then she did PUSH-UPS in the middle of the song. And what was with the weird voice? I don't remember "Just a Girl" sounding so forced. Maybe she'd been snorting something backstage... like her drummer did. Wouldn't you have to be off your face to wear this??

Unlike Kristina, I'm not one to judge, but how seriously can you take a rock band who's drummer wears a tutu? I hope this is just a temporary drug addiction. Any more of this rubbish and they'll have to change their name from "No Doubt" to "No Class."

The Votes Are In!

2009-05-03T18:23:00.000-07:00

I've had several suggestions to change my hairstyle to that of Jessica Biel. So, I bow to the authority of my clever bloggy friends and here is the planned makeover... keep an eye out for the actual hairstyle. I promise to post a picture.

I may change the colour to this ...

or not...

So... it's been a few days since I posted the pictures and I got my hair done. My regular stylist was not at the salon. At this point I should have left. I really should have. Instead, I asked a different girl if she would style my hair without cutting it. I showed her the picture above. "No problem! I just need to cut a little bit off here to get those layers."

At the mention of the C word, I should have walked out.

Twenty minutes and two inches on the floor later, I bestowed her with a curse that will ensure all her offspring will be born with three nostrils. Then I left.

Following is the slightly bemused pic of me after the fact. Keep in mind that I was very windswept (and not in the good, sultry kind of way) when the picture was taken by my ten year old.

Can I just say - I HATE IT!!! (MM likes it!)

What the Heck is Swine Flu?

2009-04-30T11:29:00.000-07:00

If you're a conspiracy theorist, you won't be surprised by this.

Some Doctors in the USA are convinced that a vaccine manufacturer deliberately let loose a genetically modified virus to increase demand for their vaccines. Nobody knows how a flu strain that is part bird, part swine with a bit of human mixed in came about, but are sure it must have been bio-engineered. Can you say G-E-N-O-C-I-D-E?

Two organizations - Novavax and the CDC have been implicated.

The government will probably mandate the use of toxic vaccines. During the 1926 swine flu scare, more people died or were paralyzed by the vaccine than were ever affected by the flu. 28% of people died from conventional medical practices compared with 2% of people treated by natural methods during the 1918 flu pandemic. (If you don't mind graphic pics - look here.) There are better ways to fortify your bodies against this and any virus.
Here's what to do. Get twenty minutes worth of sunshine per day and/or eat plenty of Vitamin D rich foods. If you are coming down with flu like symptoms and have not been on vitamin D you can take doses of 50,000 units a day for three days to treat the acute infection.

Here are the symptoms you need to be aware of...

Fever of more than 100
Coughing
Runny nose and/or sore throat
Joint aches
Severe headache
Vomiting and/or diarrhea
Lethargy
Lack of appetite

Make the remedy listed below. It will bulletproof your system unless you sabotage it by eating crap. If you do nothing else, STOP eating WHITE FLOUR products, COFFEE, SUGAR and SODAS (including DIET soda).

YOUR BODY CANNOT ELIMINATE RUBBISH AND RESIST VIRAL INVASION AT THE SAME TIME.

Remedy:

½ cup organic horseradish
¼ cup organic garlic-minced
½ cup organic onion – chopped
¼ cup fresh organic ginger – minced
3 organic cayenne peppers – minced
1 cup Apple cider vinegar(Braggs is good)
½ cup raw honey

Drop two teaspoonfuls in a glass of water—swirl around your mouth for ten seconds and then swallow. Do this every hour on the hour until symptoms abate. If you can't abide the taste, mix it into some organic apple juice. Take 2-3 x a day as maintenance.

Look after yourself!

Turn Left

2009-04-27T06:05:00.000-07:00

MM and I take the opportunity to teach the children good solid principals whenever we can. We try to instill values like honesty, integrity and changing the toilet roll when it's empty, at least once a week.

Sometimes it works and we are rewarded with the dawning of comprehension on the child's face. But other times, it seems that we are talking to an alien who just transferred into the child's body and who hasn't yet learned to converse in our strange garbled language. "Uh, wha..? Ahhh.... huh?"

Recently, we tried to create a reverent and thought-provoking atmosphere when we played the Church conference talks in the car. It seemed to work well and the children were quietly listening until the GPS got involved. Imagine if you will, a scene of attentiveness to thoughtful words of wisdom... "What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and... DRIVE SIX POINT FIVE MILES THEN TAKE EXIT THIRTY FOUR ON RIGHT."
Even President Monson was interfered with... "We know that there are times when we will suffer, when we will grieve, and when we will... TURN LEFT AT WATSON STREET."

We were literally choking with laughter. At the end of the talks, I tried to redeem the situation by asking the kids what was the most meaningful thing they learned. They assured me that they realized that at some time in their lives, they will, with earnest endeavour, make the life-affirming decision... to turn left.
At Watson Street.

Virtually Me

2009-04-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

I want a makeover. I need a makeover. I deserve a makeover!

I have been dropping hints to MM about this for some time, saying things like, "I would so LOVE IT if Clinton and Stacey would drop by and surprise me with a $5,000 shopping spree.... you know... on that show, "What Not To Wear"? Boy, that would be so cool if someone who really loved me nominated me for the show. Stacey would leap out from behind a bush and then I'd go to New York and get a whole new wardrobe! Wouldn't that be COOL?"

MM: "Hmmmm..."

I try again. "Because that would be awesome and it would cost us NOTHING and I would get professional advice and and learn how to look hip, cool... and all that. Y'know what I mean?"

MM: "Uh-huh."

OK, not the desired response.

It doesn't look like I am going to be on the show anytime soon. I'm on my own. I wasn't feeling too good about showing my flab to millions of Americans in the circular mirror ANYWAY. But I need to do something, so let's start with hair... I tried a few celebrity styles and I just don't know which one looks best. Help?

Gwyneth Paltrow:

Eva Longoria:

Debra Messing:

Camilla Belle:

Cameron Diaz:

Jennifer Hudson:

Jennifer Garner:

Jennifer Aniston:

Jada Pinkett-Smith:

Heidi Klum:

Kyra Sedgwick:

Jessica Biel:

Jennifer Lopez:

Taylor Momsen:

Taraji Henson:

Nicole Ritchie:

Lauren Conrad:

Kate Winslet:

Who ARE these people anyway?

You can go play with this software here and also make yourself glamorous with a bit of makeup and change your eye colour if you so desire. Like here where I gave myself violet, green and blue eyes.

Whaddya reckon?

Beware the Ides of Moi!

2009-04-20T11:12:00.000-07:00

I suffer from an ailment. It's called "foot-in-mouth" disease. If I ever see a woman I know, with a largish tummy, I will not ask her, "When are you due?" No, I will not. Then I will not hear the resulting answer, "I had the baby six months ago!" And then I will not notice that the bundle she was clutching was not, in fact, an assortment of rags, but was, in fact, a six month old baby.

This is not the first time I have said something completely inappropriate. My brain is unfortunately connected to my mouth, so while I am still processing information, my mouth decides to pass the half-formed conclusion along before my brain can take evasive action.

Perhaps I should not have slunk away red-faced though I saw this as the only option at the time since MM was inconveniently absent just when I could have done with some diplomacy. Perhaps I should have said something, offered her money, chocolate, a cute little kitty? Was there any way of redeeming the situation?

Potty Talk

2009-04-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

I've visited some interesting public restrooms in my time. The Chinese like to squat over a hole in the floor while the Americans prefer that their bums not come in contact with the ground. The toilet I visited at the New Orleans airport was a fabulous feat of engineering. Every time you flush, it dispenses a clean seat cover onto itself. Twelve flushes later, I remembered what I went there for...

In New Zealand, they are extolling the virtues of the automatic toilet that cleans itself. Unless you are the poor lady who somehow got locked inside one and was given a thorough bowl clean at half past three. The lawsuit is ongoing.

I was in the movie theatre when I overheard a mother and child talking...
Mother: "Keep still, you're getting it everywhere!"
Child: "I want to go to the Big Boy room!"
Mother: "You're too little!"
(Sound of a cellphone ringing.)
Mother: "No... leave it! DON'T.....!"

SPLASH!

Who needs movies?

What Has Been Seen Cannot Be Unseen

2009-04-17T11:00:00.000-07:00

One of my girls doesn't want me to tell anyone that she is grounded or how it came about. So here goes...

It all started when the girls announced that the Young Women from our ward would be fund raising for their Summer Camp by working in the local movie theatre.

On the appointed night, we took them to the theatre where they were given a list of their duties and sent to their stations. C was excited to be the "Welcomer". You know, the one that takes your ticket, hands you the stub and tells you in a bored voice to enjoy your movie.

A wanted to 'ush' and do the concessions. Hanging around popcorn is her favourite thing. I think she actually ended up cleaning toilets which I personally think is good training for the future. (If she doesn't get into MIT, at least she has a skill to fall back on.)

MM and I went to see "Mall Cop" (un-entertaining slapstick that was not particularly funny although everyone around me howled with laughter).

Halfway through the movie, the girls came in, announced that their 'shift' was over and that they were going movie-hopping.

When the movie was over we went out to wait for the girls. Eventually, one child emerged from "Bedtime Stories" and the other walked out of... OH NO, SHE DIDN'T!! "A Curious Case of Benjamin Button!"

As a family, we have banned PG-13 movies. I see them as a threat. This one had what I particularly hate - sexual content and bad language. I detest all forms of muck spoiling both my literary enjoyment and my viewing pleasure. Call me a prude - I relish the title. When I was a kid, the PG-13s were clean and the Rs had the rubbish. We have seen a gradual relaxation of standards over the years and have become so desensitized that we accept the depravity Hollywood hands us in our "family entertainment" without a whisper of protest. I cannot and will not stand idly by and allow them to pour filth into mine and my children's minds. Even the PGs contain stuff I would prefer not to be exposed to.

The child looked guilty as heck and insisted that she'd accidentally stumbled into the movie not realising that it was PG-13. I may have been easier on her if she'd shown some remorse or admitted that she'd been curious.... but all she did was act peed off that she'd been caught and get all angry and stupid.

This is why she missed a friends birthday party and is skulking around in her room at the moment.

But... do you think we were too harsh? I mean, we only expect from the children what we are willing to adhere to ourselves.

Bad Mood Zone

2009-04-15T21:09:00.000-07:00

I should never have got out of bed today. Today just didn't go right. I'm not naming names but someone left the gas stove on all night, someone squished a bike helmet backing out of the garage this morning and someone left my car radio on the Country Western station. As if that wasn't enough, my favourite show was zapped by a power cut to the DVR so after all this abuse I was forced to eat chocolate to take my mind off it. Which is like the worst thing I could do to myself.

But, I came to my senses and went to my garden and yanked some vegetables out. I quickly ate about ten pounds of carrots and swiss chard to counter the chocolate effects. I think I caught it in time...

Thank goodness for American Idol. I can take my frustrations out on Paula. Which is kind of cruel, because she singlehandedly supports an entire third world country with her annual lipgloss purchases. They even named their new shade in her honour. It's called "Slimy Pink Teeth'. So, even though she's a shameless suck up, she's a really good person too.

I am not surprised that Matt got hoofed off Idol but I was surprised that the Judges saved him. He can sing okay but he doesn't have the support of Lil who has 100% of the African American population behind her no matter how much genre-hopping she does. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that Adam Lambert is going to win this competition. In spite of his Rapidly-Becoming-Trademark-Screech. Which I don't like but find strangely fascinating.

I wonder which Disco song he will be screeching next week? I'd like to see him sing "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees. Can we send in our requests?

A Belated Easter Wish

2009-04-13T06:38:00.000-07:00

Usually I write my post, then MM checks it and gives helpful suggestions like..."Why did you talk about Somali hijackers when everyone else is posting Easter pics and being grateful for the Saviour's Resurrection?" and ~~constructive~~ criticism like that. Unfortunately, MM was napping when I posted yesterdays inanity so he was not able to tell me how 'Seasonally Inappropriate' I was until after the fact.

Wot. Ever.

I know I'm coming across as an unchristian wretch but I'm truly not. To prove it I will tell you what we did while on vacation. We downloaded the LDS Semi-Annual Conference Talks mp3s and played them for six hours straight whilst driving last Sunday. That's dedication, that is. Barreling down the freeway in our metal pollution box (i.e. car) we listened intently to the speakers and sustained the new authorities by raising our right hands. The kids slunk down in their seats so as not to be seen by others driving alongside. I don't know why. What's so odd about people in their car raising their arms in sync eight to ten times? Nothing, I tell you.

Anyway, Happy Easter. Please find obligatory egg and bunny pics below:

Back to the Grind

2009-04-12T18:10:00.000-07:00

We're home!!!! Yay!!! I know you are all leaping for joy as you read that I am back to plague your life with my inanities (my word for the day).

Thanks to all who enquired after my health. I am doing brilliantly, the gallstones have been eradicated and I will always be glad that I did not allow the "Doctor" (and I use the term loosely) to surgically remove my gallbladder. Like my MIL says, "You need to keep your insides INSIDE."

But to the matter at hand. And I am referring, of course, to the recent rescue of the US Captain from the Somali pirates. I am uber-impressed with the Navy Snipers ability to pick off the thugs whilst standing on a Destroyer being thrashed around in high seas. Cool!

One of the surviving pirates made threats against the US saying that by using our military might, we are marked for retaliation. "In the future, America will be the one mourning and crying," he told The Associated Press. "We will retaliate (for) the killings of our men." Like he would want his country to sit back and do nothing if his countryman was being held hostage by a bunch of murdering thugs!

But here's the thing... the ship the Somali thugs attempted to hijack had been carrying food aid bound for Rwanda, Somalia and Uganda!

Talk about biting the hand that feeds!!

2009-04-04T13:28:00.000-07:00

Hi folks,

I am on vacation... wagging more....

...barking less...

Just Take A Minute...

2009-03-23T19:54:00.000-07:00

Slow down and breathe for a second... there you go... now I need to tell you about some really awesome giveaways going on at Mormon Mommy Blogs. Even though a "Mom" is really a "Mum" and I have never won so much as a frozen chicken, I am entering the giveaway because I really WANT something. Anything.

If you want free stuff, stop reading now and go there... go on! BUT WAIT!

Here's my final word, taken from a particularly profound piece of literature stuck to the bumper of a car...

"Wag more, bark less."

Doesn't that just say it all?

Food, A Necessary Evil

2009-03-21T10:34:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy week. As you know, I have an extremely limited diet so grocery shopping has gone from frustrating to nightmarish in one fell swoop. A nutritionist suggested that we only shop around the perimeter of the store, where all the raw food is and resist going down the aisles because that's where they keep the evil processed food. Try telling my kids they can't have cereal. It ain't happening.

So, I get my food... and awesome!, I even found organic ketchup!, then I run to the checkout. As I am unloading stuff, I notice... the ketchup is gone! What the heck?! Who would steal my ketchup? Granted, I haven't purchased it yet, so technically it isn't yet mine but come on... who would steal my ketchup? And when? How? Was there a ketchup addict stalking me? Did he/she follow me stealthily through the store, then, when I was contemplating the nice array of potatoes, did he leap forward, snatch the ketchup and run away stroking it ... "I got you my preciousssss...."

So, I'm at the checkout, ketchup-less, and the checkout lady yanks my food down the conveyor. All is fine until she starts bagging the bananas. I feel awkward. What should I do? Say something, or let it happen? I take a chance... "Um, 'scuse me? I don't want that. I want the other one... please." I swear, this woman acted like I'd just asked her if I could puke in her hands.

I haven't noticed, but when did they stop asking..."Plastic or paper?"

The Mighty Woof

2009-03-19T05:38:00.000-07:00

We just got a new woofer. No, it's not a dog... my cat would never forgive me. It's a loudspeaker, one of those ones that delivers low frequency sounds. You know, the throbbing bass that vibrates the popcorn out of your cup when you're at the movies. THAT one. It came with a surround sound system so we now have 47 speakers strategically placed all over the room. Whenever we watch tv I keep thinking someone is breaking into the house. I swing around yelling, "Who's there?" only to realise it was just the movie, and the kids laugh at me... again.

I think I am losing my mind. Gone are my calm, quiet evenings. Now I can FEEL the movie no matter where I am in the house. When The Hulk drops a car, the shock wave launches the cat across the room. When Horton ran with The Whos, my pot plant thudded across the table and committed suicide off the edge.

Though I go to my bedroom, and close the sound-proofed door behind me, I can still hear such raging destruction that I frequently run down the stairs just to check that a 747 hasn't just crash-landed in the dining room. It's exhausting.

I was about to ask MM if we could please chop the woofer into small pieces and burn it when I read on the Internet that Doctors occasionally remove gallstones using ultrasound therapy. So naturally I thought, "Why pay hundreds of dollars for a sonogram when I can just sit on the woofer?" These stones don't stand a chance against the X-Men.

Weally Wordy Wednesday

2009-03-18T15:15:00.000-07:00

MM has firmly resisted my wheedling to give me a copy of his UGLY PIC. He asked me if I planned on showing it to anyone. I assured him that the thought hadn't even begun to speculate about the merest possibility of crossing my mind and I was only going to post it on my blog. MM was horrified and refused to allow me access to it even though I did mention that hardly anyone reads my blog these days anyway. Except you ~~five~~ four.

So, I was forced to find a reasonable facsimile of MM on the internet and here is about as close as I could get; just imagine this guy with eyebrows and three more teeth and it's close enough!

You will agree, the changes I had to make were significant. That's true love that is!

What about this week on American Idol? I don't prefer country music but I was feeling decidedly sorry for all things country after listening to Adam Lambert KILL, MURDER, BUTCHER AND DESTROY 'Ring of Fire'!! It's a good thing Johnny Cash wasn't alive to hear it. He may have had to throw Adam into an actual ring of fire on principal. I have to agree with Simon's critique... it was UTTER RUBBISH!

The big winners for the night were Kris Allen with his sweet ballad (who knew?!) and Anoop who yanked himself back from obscurity with a really cool version of "Always On My Mind". He single handedly revived Willie Nelson's career but Willie will have to sing that song with RnB flavour from now on.

One more thing...

Apparently this vid features all women drivers but I am so sure they were aliens in womens clothing because we all know that WE ARE FANTASTIC DRIVERS.
(Make sure you mute the annoying music.)

Green Gone Rampant

2009-03-17T17:38:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of the Chicago river. Every year on St Patrick's Day they dump loads of dye in there. The council says they use environmentally friendly vegetable dye. I'm sure the marine life in the river appreciate the fact that they are dying from vegetable toxins instead of synthetic ones. Nothing says St Pat's Day like polluting the eco system.

What the Heck....?

2009-03-15T21:28:00.000-07:00

I just wanna know.... why, for the love of roast meat, is Rachael Ray in this getup? I swear, every time I see her she's wearing less! Is this the new fad? Roast the turkey in your lingerie! Does it make the bird taste better?

As my MIL would say... "Good Gravy!" I certainly won't be watching any more of Rachael's soft porn cooking shows!

Sorry I had to do that to you.

You Won't Want to Know But I'm Telling You Anyway

2009-03-15T12:41:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed that I have been absent from the Great World of Bloggering. So, here's the thing... I've been in the throes of a personal health crisis.

You may remember that I asked an actual Doctor for help and she prescribed zantac for me. "You probably have indigestion" was her brain staggering conclusion. She apparently forgot the whole previous conversation about how I took zantac already and it not only didn't help but made me feel more nauseous. Then I found out later that she isn't a doctor at all but a DA whatever that is. Not a doctor, apparently.

I didn't tell this DA that by all indications, she was a quack. I just thought it. It shoved up close to the other thoughts I had about the whole Doctor Experience. Like... why do they have the reception desk so close to the waiting area? Not only do you have the humiliation of discussing your oh-so-private and possibly embarrassing ailment with the Reception Girl who is a complete stranger and worse, young enough to be your daughter's school friend... but you also have the entire population of the waiting room listening in. Then there's the woman who leans over to chat (there's always one) and asks "How long have you had that then? I've got terrible angina myself..."

A week later I asked to see a real Doctor. He sauntered in and chatted about how the weather was nice and cool. Let me re-enact the rest of that scene...

Dr Casual: Your blood tests are normal so I'm thinking it could be indigestion.
Moi: (Eye roll) Humph.
Dr Casual: No, really. It could be.
Moi: Or?
Dr Casual: Or... you could have gallstones. You're the right demographic. Female, forty and f...
Moi: Fabulous?
Dr Casual: Yes.
Moi: Can you remove gallstones?
Dr Casual: No. But you can remove the gallbladder.
MM: Isn't there a way to dissolve or flush the stones?
Dr Casual: Surgical removal of the gallbladder is your only option. It's not the end of the world. Lots of people have the surgery with no problem. But, beware. The Internet is full of products that claim to remove stones but it's really not possible. So, don't worry about it. In the meantime, why don't we get you some zantac....

So he schedules me for an ultrasound and tells me not to worry. I went home disgusted. Then I got to work. My close companions for the last two weeks: terrible pain and the Internet. I googled the heck out of my symptoms. I read everything I could find about gallstones. It's a wonder my keyboard didn't scream and run away at the sight of me, I googled the guts out of my laptop all day for days.

Yes, I found a gallstone flush and YES I completed it and YES!, I am gallstone free and PAIN FREE! I can dance again! I can walk and run and jump and be HAPPY! And it's all because I DOUBTED the Doctors and DOUBTED the system. The system is broken. "Surgery is the only option." PHOOEY. So much for the Hippocratic Oath!

New rule of thumb for gallstone avoidance. Don't eat it if it ever had a heartbeat. Don't eat beans or nuts or eggs or grains or sugar. Don't eat it if it isn't organic or came out of a cow. So guess what's for dinner.... no really, guess... go on take a stab at it!

Because I have NO FLIPPIN' IDEA!

Honest Crap, I mean "Scrap"

2009-03-06T13:18:00.000-08:00

So it only took several months and 159 posts to be given an award! Lissaloo gave me this because of my supposed "brilliant content or design" which is very kind of her but does not actually involve a prize. Hence, I will need to go back to the Hole In the Roof (otherwise known as Walmart) to reward myself with some chocolate. It's only fair.

I am now supposed to nominate seven bloggerers to pass the award to and then list ten things about Moi. I am supposed to be honest and not just make it up. I'm not sure the world, in it's present state of unrest, could take any exposé the likes of which I could share but here goes... let's hope it doesn't spark a national crisis...

1. I am a Princess because my Mother is the daughter of the Rangitira Chief of my tribe. (Peasants may request an audience Tuesdays and Thursdays after two. Must bring chocolate.)

2. My husband can show his genealogy all the way back to Adam and is related to Charlemagne and Ivan the Terrible. (Alright, it's not about me but it's cool anyway!)

3. I was a widow at 32 with three small children aged four, three and one.

4. I don't have an accent. You do.

5. I dislike gum and people who masticate whilst talking to me.

6. My new car was purchased from the Hollywood studio who used it as the cop car in the CSI Vegas show.

7. I once drag-raced P. Diddy's limousine on the 5 Interstate Freeway. I won of course. (MM said I should mention that P Diddy was unaware it was a race but that's beside the point.)

8. I only buy natural, organic skin products. Or, I make them.

9. I served a mission for the church in New Zealand.

10. I made most of this stuff up. (Just kidding, it's actually all true!)

11. Please no more awards, it turns the fun of blogging into actual "work" plus, in the process I somehow changed my settings and now ALL my titles underline! Grrrr.

Here are the seven bloggeries I nominate... If you are not here it doesn't mean I love you less.

1. 1 LDS Mom
2. I am Frugal
3. Normal Mormon Husbands
4. A Peek At Karen’s World
5. Our Feet Are The Same
6. My Real Life Was Backordered
7. Camille & Blog = Friends

Now here's the fine print:

- Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
- Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap." Well, there's no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.
- List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

Cutting Through The Cussing

2009-03-05T18:17:00.000-08:00

I admit, this post is entirely inspired by the beginning of DeNae's latest post of genius and hilarity. She is one of my favourite bloggerers and a fellow-hitchhiker and I hope that this sucking up brings me some forgiveness for hitching my post to her post...

I am, in essence, continuing my comment to her - on here. And I feel I can do this because she was obviously inspired by my post "Sanity Saver" in which I talk about eliciting good behaviour from the savage beasts (otherwise known as children) using music. Or, as DeNae puts it... "neutralizing your offspring". Clearly, DeNae used my post as her inspiration.

On the subject of "cussing", and I hesitate to use the word because to me, saying "cuss" is akin to actually cussing, I'd like to offer the opinion that a swear word is in the ear of the beholder. Where I come from, "dam-" is as mild as saying, "darn" and "he--" barely registers a two on the EEEK Scale. (Ten being the dreaded F.)

Luckily, before I set foot on these fair shores, MM warned me that the mess coming out of my mouth was likely to give his mother a stroke so I edited my speech most carefully for her sake. Not so my friend Moana who flew over here with me. We forgot to tell her.

"Da--, I love this place! Hello Mrs MM's mother! How the he-- are ya?"

But, should you ever find yourself in New Zealand, there are some things to take note of...

You will probably never come across anyone blessed with the name "Randy" in New Zealand because randy means... "A man who is very fond of the ladies in the very intimate sense of the very frequent frequency." A person of this notoriety would be referred to as a "Randy Bugger".

Nor should you ever use the word "root" as it literally means "to have s@x". Just to illustrate the importance of this point: A female visitor from the USA said... My first time in New Zealand I made the unfortunate mistake of listing off my hobbies to a family that had me over for tea.... among my hobbies? "I like to root for the football team!" One of the boys said, "What, the WHOLE team??"

Not to mention that a few nights ago on American Idol, Adam Lambert gave the NZ equivalent of the "middle finger" gesture (only much worse) while he was trotting down the steps with the other privileged eleven. It might have been the peace sign, only the knuckles were facing OUT. In New Zealand this gesture would have had him decapitated or castrated... whichever end was closest.

I do believe that one should tread carefully when accusing others of using foul language because in their country they could quite literally be inviting you to dinner and not in fact, telling you that you are the slime that lives off the grime that inhabits a Vogon's left armpit.

(Vogon with aforementioned 'covered' armpits, for which we are grateful.)

The Sky is Falling!

2009-03-04T10:47:00.000-08:00

So, I reluctantly decided to go see the Doctor about my tummy troubles. I expect I am not a fun patient to have and I don't generally LIKE Doctors because they are SO Doctor-ish. All they do is ask stupid questions...
"When was the last time you had a mammogram?"
"Errrr.... never?" So, yeah, got some backlash from that one.
Then the lecture began...
"Eat properly..."
"Get some exercise..."
"Watch your cholesterol..." BLAH BLAH BLAH.

I subjected myself to this barrage (I kid you not, it took an hour!) and then Doctor Annoying told me I may have indigestion. INDIGESTION?? I just know that's not what my problem is! I KNOW it! So, I politely asked if it could possibly be anything else. She said that it could be any number of things but she couldn't determine what until I had several blood tests done. So, like an idiot, I agreed to that. Because I just love to be poked with needles. Then she handed me some heartburn drugs and told me to take them in the evenings.... UMM EXCUSE ME?!! You just said yourself that you don't KNOW what my problem is until you get the test results! So you want to give me antacid drugs... WHY? JUST IN CASE? If I DON'T suffer from indigestion, can I sue you for malpractice? Because I know it isn't indigestion - I had babies, I know acutely what indigestion is at around the eighth month of gestation, lady!

So, to calm my nerves, I went to Walmart to buy some chocolate.

I was at the checkout when I heard an almighty CRASH! and looked up to see a huge chunk of the roof fall to the floor! NOOO! 9/11... it's HERE! in Walmart!

I was gripped by panic (like everyone else around me!) and it is true that your life flashes before you because in that split second I was thinking about all sorts of things that I had left undone in my life INCLUDING that I'm gonna DIE before I prove that I DON'T HAVE INDIGESTION!!!

Fortunately, I was not close enough to be hit by flying ceiling and the expected terrorist attack did not happen. Once I relaxed, I saw the funny side of it... I've never seen Grannies run so fast and I'm sure the people eating at McDonalds appreciated the extra seasoning that floated down to settle on their french fries.

It turns out that the guys constructing a building next door made some kind of constructing mistake (isn't it just like legos?) and sent the wall that they had just erected crashing down onto the roof of Walmart. Nothing like a few hundred tons of cement block falling on your head to wake you up.

So that was my day. How was yours?

Some Chocolate Cake To Go With That?

2009-03-01T17:56:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure why I haven't been my normal, cheerful, happy self these past couple of days. I've been snapping at people on the phone and via email. I know... it's totally unlike me. I am usually so engaging and fabulous. I blame the stomach virus which laid me up for the last two days. It felt like three tigers were trying to claw their way out of my abdomen and I had to visit the bathroom so often, I was having panic attacks at the thought of being more than ten steps away from the toilet. If I don't lose some weight out of this I will be very, very annoyed! (and still fat)

But the worst thing is that my visiting teacher, hearing of my ailment, brought me a decadent chocolate cake filled with chocolate mousse and dripping with melted chocolate. Why? Why?? I could only look on sadly while the rest of the family wolfed it down.

So anyway... A day or so ago, M was so late home from school that I jumped in my (new) car and drove up the road looking for him. I found him, trudging home with a dejected look on his face. I started laying into him about how he is not supposed to muck around after school and how worried I was etc etc when he burst into tears and tearily (is that a word?) told me about the three enormous boys who waylaid him. They threw pine cones at him, one of which got caught in his bike wheel and flipped him off his bike, hence the walking home instead of riding. And that was not all that these ferocious kids did. They tackled the poor child and beat the crap out of him. Yes, I am very lucky that the sorry child in front of me was still intact. He showed me his wounds... some scrapes and burgeoning bruises and all the anger went out of me and naturally, transferred to these little demons who had the nerve to hurt my child!

I got on the phone and called the principal and vented to her forthwith! I told her about the monsters who attacked my poor defenseless boy! I told her he has never complained about something like this before. I told her the monster's names. I told her "something needed to be done!" She was horrified and promised to interview them all and get to the bottom of it and let me know how many lashes the bullies would receive.

Imagine my disbelief when the report came back that in fact, M was NOT victimized. He was actually playing with the boys and they were all throwing pine cones at each other. Then they played football, then M came home!

Never mind the fact that M felt he could tell the Principal the truth but lie to his mother. Or, that he made me look like an overreacting, over protective, crazy mum! But what bothers me most is that somebody had to call me and tell me I was WRONG! I even had to APOLOGIZE! Arghhh!

This is what having children means. HUMILIATION. If it hasn't happened to you yet, it will. Wait 'til you find out your kid told a random guy at church what size bra you wear. It's all downhill from there...

P.S. Here is my new car... it's not the actual car (cos I haven't got a decent pic) but is exactly the same as mine right down to the cool wheels. (And no, it does not say $10,888 on the windscreen. It says $19,888... not that this is my car. I just felt like mentioning it.)

Zoom Zoom

2009-02-20T21:03:00.001-08:00

I have been extremely busy these last few days, scouring the internet and car yards for "The Perfect Vehicle" for Moi. I'm not fussy about what type of vehicle I buy as long as I am able to get from A to B in complete and utter luxury and style.

This means I will be ~~unbearable~~ unavailable for a few days until I have found a car befitting a woman of my high social and professional status.

Oh, and thanks to all those who "pointed out" that Twirling Girl is very "pert". I would like to offer an explanation for this occurence. It is the middle of WINTER and she is NEKKID. Or, she is uber impressed by Obama's Stimulus plan and is showing her... appreciation. Actually, I am getting tired of all the turning and turning... enough already, I'm getting dizzy. Someone throw a Snuggie over her.

So, I'm outta here... see you soon when I am the proud new owner of a BMW/Lamborghini/Mercedes Benz/Rolls Royce/Bentley/Ferrari/insert other fantasy car here. Or, I could just buy a corolla and take the letters off the back and replace them with L-E-X-U-S letters swiped off some poor blokes car. Don't laugh, we saw that the other day. For reals.

As long as the newbie proves to be a monstrous cash sucking, monoxide belching beast. Otherwise, it would hardly be worth having, would it?

Sanity Saver

2009-02-18T10:58:00.001-08:00

I've been reading all sorts of great advice from various Mom Blogs... "How To Be A Better Wife and Mother Without Leaving The Sofa", "How to Elicit Appreciation From Your Husband Regarding All The Housework You Do From The Sofa", "How To Get Your Children To Cook Dinner" and other really great stuff that is pertinent for a twenty-first century, young(ish), busy, vital, multi-tasking mother (one hand updating status on Facebook, the other fast-forwarding through Paula Abdul).

I just love the information on the internet! It rivals the parenting advice I used to get from half an hour of "The Cosby Show"!! (almost)

Anyway, during the past couple of days I have discovered (quite by accident and without the help of the internet!) a parenting method that defies tradition yet has surprisingly good results. I introduce to you (drumroll) the "Ultimate Parenting Advice by Moi."

Seriously, this is the last piece of information you'll need for those situations when the kids start to bicker and quarrel and fight amongst each other and with you. When you are ready to auction your children off... this information will be a life saver for ~~them~~ you...

Items you will need:
- Sound System with brain bleeding volume capacity.
- Any head banging 80's music. Billy Idol's "White Wedding" works great. And yes, you HAVE TO use 80's music. It won't work if you choose any other era. Trust me.

Method: When the children's bickering is pounding on your last nerve... grab your music, turn up the volume to "Space Shuttle take-off" levels. Blast it! You can even sing along. (Dancing optional.) This is when the 80s era music comes into it's own. Because kids just don't like it. It will make them halt in bewilderment then flee to their room (your work is done) or halt in bewilderment, watch you, laugh, point and stare (your work is done).

Results: All the arguing magically disappears. The whining is gone. And the best part is, you can see their mouths moving but you can't hear what they're saying! Once peace is restored, all you need to do is glance in their direction every now and then to make sure they are not stabbing eachother, and all is SWEET.

Side benefits: You got off the sofa... or not.

Snuggies in the White House?

2009-02-16T07:08:00.000-08:00

Dedicated to Snuggie owners around the world and those who admire them... Kristina, this one is for you!

Twirling Girl Illusion

2009-02-15T22:23:00.000-08:00

Do you see the girl spinning left, or right?
Can you make her spin one way, then change direction?
Take your time... you can do it!

Apparently, the predominant direction you see her going is a reflection of which side of your brain is dominant which is probably absolute rubbish, since this is not real science, just an optical illusion.

I got to the stage where I can make her change direction by focusing on the foot closest to the ground.

Just a bit of fun...

I'm Innocent!

2009-02-14T00:05:00.000-08:00

I just came from shopping heck. There were about fifty people jammed into the Valentines aisle in Wal-Mart. By the time I got through the insanity, there was nothing of worth left on the shelves. There was plenty to choose from on the floor, however. I'm sure MM wouldn't mind the cute heart-shaped card I saw. It only had one footprint... I could get away with it, really I could... "It's not a dirty footprint! It's 'heel art' honey!"

But I didn't buy it. I went to Albertsons instead. It was blissfully clear of shoppers except for one lady with a BIG BEHIND. I won't tell you about the encounter with this rude lady who refused to move her shopping cart and her BIG BEHIND. I won't tell you about the way I used my shopping cart as a battering ram against her cart, to get into the Valentines aisle because she completely ignored my heartfelt "Excuse me, please!"

I won't tell you how she then tried to block my exit once I had found a pretty (but masculine) foot-art free card. I won't tell you that I kindly requested she move her BIG BEHIND AGAIN. My polite entreaty fallen on deaf ears, she wouldn't even LOOK at me! So I had to resort to using my shopping cart to bash my way OUT. Crash! Bang! Take THAT!

I hoped the security guys weren't watching and that they wouldn't confiscate my groceries and distribute my photo to all staff with the order... "DO NOT GIVE A SHOPPING CART TO THIS WOMAN!" I just know they would not prosecute the BIG BEHIND lady because she probably appeared on camera to be the innocent victim and I the guilty cart bashing perpetrator!

I practically ran through the checkout.

It was once I got home and breathlessly told MM about how RUDE some people can be and how they act like they're DEAF, that MM said to me, "How do you know she wasn't deaf?"

"Because she.... because I.... because..... AHHH CRAP!"

Valentines Bah Humbug

2009-02-13T08:11:00.000-08:00

Valentines Day is today for my 4th grader. His teacher gave him a list of all the kids in the class that he has to give cards to. Which is, everyone. I'm confused. Aren't they supposed to write Valentines cards to the kids they like? And, why does he have to give Valentine cards to BOYS? Isn't that pushing him over to the OTHER side?

If it were up to M, nobody would be getting cards from him. These are just some of his comments to me...

"DO NOT write a girl's name on the hearts cards! Don't even use the hearts cards, mum!"

"Be mine...no pressure... ?? I can't give this to a boy!!"

"What does this one say?... "You'll fill the space in my heart?" Bleuccchhh! Take that card out too."

"Oh no, I have to give one to HER? She likes me! Groan..."

"DO NOT put happy faces on them! I am NOT giving smiley face cards to girls!"

"Yuck! Why do they have to talk about love?"

So, I ask M if he would like to give me a heart card. "Can I be your Valentine, son?" His response... "Yeah... whatever..."

He loves me!

Buy Now, Or Else!

2009-02-12T22:40:00.000-08:00

The housing market sucks. I live on a small street with thirteen houses. Three of them went into foreclosure within months of eachother. Then, people moved into an empty house across the road. Loud parties and night-time brawls became the norm for our formerly quiet little street until the Police raided the house late one night and smashed down the garage door with a battering ram. I heard one almighty racket and ran outside to see what the heck was going on.

MM and the kids were hot on my heels. We counted thirteen police cruisers, numerous cops, guns and dogs. They cuffed two guys that they said were drug dealers. Whoa! I went to sleep in Normal and woke up in Watts!

That was some months back and there is now only one empty house on our street and it's owned by a bank. They sent some guys to spray paint the grass. They think this makes the front yard look more appealing. The lawn used to look like dried up brown straw. Now it looks like dried up freakishly green straw.

But despite the slump in the market, there are still new houses being built two streets over from us! The owners are desperately trying to offload these white elephants. I saw balloons and dancing sign-holder guys and crazy incentives being offered. But then, this week, I saw a sign that said, "Homes Must Sell This Week. Act Fast. LAST CHANCE!" Which naturally, made me wonder... last chance... or what? They'll stay empty? Oh no! Anything but that!

Or, if they don't sell by Sunday, is the Salvation Army going to cart them away? Or, are they turning them into dog kennels for the Friends of the Valley Animal Shelter? Are they going to burn them all down?...take that, all you non-house-buying people! You'll rue the day that you didn't buy a house from me!

I might go over and ask them tomorrow.

What Yanks Your Chain?

2009-02-08T14:35:00.000-08:00

You are very astute to notice I am home early from church. I couldn't handle the sinus headache anymore so I came home to pop some advil and achieve some druggy bliss. Coincidentally, I find that today is Feb 8 which just happens to be... you guessed it... PEEVES DAY! Yay! This is the day allocated to freely mock and criticize whatever I feel eminently mockable and... criticize-able.

1) Of course anything on "As Seen On TV" qualifies but this item takes top billing in my opinion. It's the shiny, sparkly "Lord's Prayer Cross."

But... this is not just any cheap crystal cross. This cheap crystal cross is special because it has the Lord's prayer engraved into the back of it. Hold it up to the light and it will be revealed! What? What do you mean you can't read it? It's right there!

2) Coming a close second is the "Baby on Board" sign. Once upon a time these signs were a good idea because they indicated to emergency crews at roadside accidents, that there was a baby they needed to account for. Bet you didn't know that. Nowadays, they are some kind of badge of pride or something.
So you're fertile! Great! Happy for ya.
Do these people put the sign in their vehicles because they assume we value their life less than that of their offspring? "Oh thank goodness they put the sign up! I was about to run right over that car! Whew!"

3) Being subjected to loud cell phone conversations at the checkout. It's not like I can walk away because I am stuck at the checkout! And seriously, I do NOT want to know what your test results are, what lengths you will go to to get your ex back (excuse me while I puke) or how your dog reacted to the thermometer. How can you say this stuff in front of strangers anyway? Here's a tip... GO AWAY! Wait til you are out of the store to call your peeps!

4) These online ads... Who said they could put a picture of my flabby gut ON THE INTERNET??!! I certainly don't remember giving my permission! Who do I sue?

5) Last but by no means the least... restaurant drive-thru speaker thingies. I hate them and will avoid speaking into them if I can.
Imagine you are me. Kiwi accent.
"Can I get two chicken sandwiches?"
"Huh?"
"Two. Chicken. Sandwiches."
"Seven beef tacos?"
Sigh. "NO. TWO. CHICKEN. SANDWICHES."
"Sorry?"
"Yes, I am!"
"What did you want?"
"FIVE BULLETS AND ONE LARGE GUN. AIM. AND. FIRE!"
"Huh?"

Slashing and Slamming

2009-02-07T13:11:00.000-08:00

There have been a lot of people knocking on our door. Selling cleaning products, magazines, newspapers, bug spraying services and landscaping. As the economy worsens, we even have little kids running up to us on the street with bags of tamales to sell.

We had been slashing dead palm fronds off the twenty or so palm trees that some palm obsessed idiot planted on our property before we owned it. Well, to be honest, MM did the ladder climbing and cutting and I watched and offered excellent 'slashing advice'.

So... after a strenuous afternoon... we had a thigh-high pile of dead palm fronds on the driveway. I knew the kids could have endless fun with the mess but the HOA would rear it's Medusa heads at us before long, so we arranged to have it removed in a few days.

The next day there was a knock at the door. A man asked me if I wanted the 'mess' removed. He promised to get it done quickly. I asked him how much.

He said, "Three."
Moi: "Three? Three what? Three drachmas? Three yen?"
Him: "Ah... three hundred."
Moi: "DOLLARS??!"
Him: "Yes."

I was so incredulous I just started laughing. I thought he was joking. Then mid-laugh I realised he wasn't joking because he was standing there with a puzzled look on his face, so it turned from a "Ha, ha great joke!" laugh to a "You've GOT TO BE KIDDING me!" laugh, to a "GET OFF MY PROPERTY!" laugh. If there is such a thing.

Then I shut the door. Still laughing. Probably hysterically by now. M was looking at me strangely.

Then later, I came upon M telling his father about it saying, "Then she laughed and SHUT THE DOOR IN HIS FACE dad!"

He was trying to rob me! I'm all for people taking the initiative but he wasn't offering to do anything more than take a handful of dead leaves away! Lucky I wasn't a little old widow with no options and a purse full of life savings!

New, NOT NEW!

2009-02-05T08:13:00.000-08:00

Like an idiot, I went to the new car sales yard first. I don't want to pay new car dollars but am thinking it wouldn't hurt to just take a peek, would it? As the sales guy swaggered toward us I told MM, "We won't test drive anything and we won't commit to anything. I am prepared to unleash if this guy does the hard sales pitch on us. I will use extreme rudeness, if necessary." MM had the good sense to look a little worried.

We all know the car industry is teetering toward the Pit of Despair but you wouldn't know it to look at the Ford sales guy. He was the picture of professionalism. Oozing charm and non-confrontation-ism. He even smelled like he'd showered that very morning. He casually asked what we were looking for then steered us straight toward this... A Ford Flex.

Yeah, I know. Boxy. Low. Small engine. May not have the grunt I need. I know I want a bus but I don't actually want a... bus.

So, sales dude smoothly asks, "What colour? You like red? You like the 20" rims? How about the nineteen air bags and the multi-panel vista roof? The dvd player and the leather interior? Let's take it for a drive shall we?"
Nod. "OK." (What am I doing?)
"Why don't you drive, young lady?" Nod. (Arrrgh!)
"Here are the keys. Don't break any speed records!" Chuckle.
"OK." (Arrrgh!)
After a blissful ride around the block and a brief burn down the freeway, I reluctantly handed the keys back.
"How much is it?" (Great, I had to ask!)
"With all the options... because that's the one you just drove... only $32,000. On special this month."

I WANT IT!

P.S. The Ford Flex is a new 2009 "crossover" car model. Used ones not available yet. $32,000 just a TAD over budget.

A Driving Force

2009-02-01T00:03:00.000-08:00

The pressure got to me. It got to MM too. We should have been honest with ourselves months ago. Admitting we have a problem was the first step. We realised that we can no longer go on like everything is normal. Because it's not normal. It just isn't. We know that now. So, we have decided to improve our lives and... buy a SECOND CAR!

Once we discussed our chronic car deprivation with a qualified Vehicle Procurement Counselor, I began to understand why people need three or more cars per family.

You need a bus that will fit the whole tribe and will handle sticky fingerprints, spilt soda, dried up french fries and snot. Then you need a pretty car to show off in, ("Look at me all you poor people who can't afford a Lexus/BMW/Benz/Corvette!") and one piece of junk for hubby to take to work.

I know that now. It just took a while for me to let go of my antiquated, "Saving the planet whilst saving money", mentality.

I know I can do it. With determination and complete disregard for the hydrocarbon emissions I will be contributing to our breathable air... I too can be blasting down the freeway in an overpriced gas guzzler that will devalue 160% before I drive it off the lot.

We've taken the first step. I know it will get increasingly harder until we get that shiny metal leech in our garage.

Please be supportive as we go through this difficult transition from a one car family to a two car environmental disaster. As the immortal Boyz II Men sang, "It's so hard... to say goodbye... to yesterday..."

Think Of It as An Opportunity

2009-01-30T09:52:00.000-08:00

I was just about to write an uproariously funny, sarcastic post about how much I hate "word verification", and how it is the bane of my blogging existence, but I saw the news announcement of the impending eruption of Mt. Redoubt in Alaska and all the indignation deflated, and now I'm just feeling bad for the Alaskans.

They aren't going to experience devastation the likes of Pompeii, but they will have some very nasty ashfall. Don't laugh. Ash particulates are a serious health threat. All the asthmatics in Alaska are watching the news in horror right now.

So, this is my heartfelt message to the Alaskans. First, stampede the grocery store for bottled water. Then go home. Stay indoors. Eat your freeze-dried eggs benedict. Be prepared to duck and cover. Watch Oprah. She knows what to do. And above all, don't breathe.

After the danger is over, you can go outside and wipe the ash off your stuff...

... then, turn this situation to your benefit. Just mix some of that ash with water, put it in a stylish container and voila!

Price it accordingly... $97 per jar. Don't be fooled into thinking nobody is dumb enough to ever buy this...

Think of the millions you'll make...

Don't Attack your Ex When You're Seven Months Preggers

2009-01-29T18:14:00.000-08:00

Translation of yesterday's post provided below in red. I read it through and somehow, it's just not the same...

One time I helped my mate T look for a new flat apartment. I said I would go with her 'cos she was up the duff pregnant and feeling a bit knackered tired. She likes to go in my car 'cos it's flash nice and grunty powerful while her ute pick-up is puckeroo not working ('cos she pranged crashed it) and the boot trunk is chocka full with fizzy soda cans.

T's a real hard case funny person and we always crack each other up. We sent our kids to get their togs swimsuits and jandals flip flops on and go down the beach. They were like, "Can we have some pingers money to take to the dairy corner store? We're like, "What are ya?" "No way!" and they're like, "But, it's kai food time!" and we're like, "Tough bikkies!" "Too bad!" So, they whinged whined their heads off.

Finally, T gives in and hands them some lollies candy and a chilly bin igloo full of L&P soda like 7-Up and some takeaways fast food and they're like, "Sweet as!" "Awesome!" So we left them there and were on our way.

It took ages (and T yacked talked the whole way) but we finally sussed out organised a flat. It was in the wops boonies but it was nice. Then we went to pick up the kids but one of them had packed a sad hissy fit and took off. So we raced over the judder-bars speed bumps looking for him. We spotted him up by the public loos restrooms. He was chucking stones at someone's chooks hens and making them run onto the tar seal road. I knew T was gonna have his guts for garters! tear him limb from limb, well not literally... you know what I mean

Then T spotted her ex-husband with his girlfriend and wanted to take a jack nuhi good look. She jumped out of the car while I was halfway up the roundabout. "Crikey dick! "Gee willikers!"

Can ya wait 'til I stop the car before you leap out?" By the time I parked the car, she was having a right old barney argument with L while the kids were gawking staring from the car. I pulled her away from him, then I threw her in the car and went flat stick really fast back to town.

T laughed as she pulled out heaps of cash. "L's a prat dickhead, but we're home 'n' hosed fine 'cos I flogged stole his wallet and he's shouting paying for lunch today!" I busted a gut laughing! It's been yonks a really long time since I've had that much fun!

**If you're wondering, this is ALL TRUE.

T is madder than a meat axe.

Bobs Yer Uncle

2009-01-28T09:35:00.000-08:00

When I first started blogging, I would ask MM to proof-read my post to make sure that I translated my kiwi slang into something an American would understand. After several hundred similar requests, MM told me to just write it naturally. He pointed out that I am using the English language, after all...

One time I helped my mate T look for a new flat. I said I would go with her 'cos she was up the duff and feeling a bit knackered. She likes to go in my car 'cos it's flash and grunty while her ute is puckeroo ('cos she pranged it) and the boot is chocka with fizzy cans. T's a real hard case and we always crack each other up.

We sent our kids to get their togs and jandals on and go down the beach. They were like, "Can we have some pingers to take to the dairy? We're like, "What are ya?" and they're like, "But, it's kai time!" and we're like, "Tough bikkies!" So, they whinged their heads off.

Finally, T gives in and hands them some lollies and a chilly bin full of L&P and some takeaways and they're like, "Sweet as!"

So we left them there and were on our way. It took ages (and T yacked the whole way) but we finally sussed out a flat. It was in the wops but it was nice.

Then we went to pick up the kids but one of them had packed a sad and took off. So we raced over the judder-bars looking for him. We spotted him up by the public loos. He was chucking stones at someone's chooks and making them run onto the tar seal. I knew T was gonna have his guts for garters!

Then T spotted her ex-husband with his girlfriend and wanted to take a jack nuhi. She jumped out of the car while I was halfway up the roundabout. "Crikey dick! Can ya wait 'til I stop the car before you leap out?" By the time I parked the car, she was having a right old barney with L while the kids were gawking from the car. I pulled her away from him, then I threw her in the car and went flat stick back to town.

T laughed as she pulled out heaps of cash. "L's a prat, but we're home 'n' hosed 'cos I flogged his wallet and he's shouting lunch today!" I busted a gut laughing!

It's been yonks since I've had that much fun!

Officer Mum

2009-01-28T08:21:00.000-08:00

C and A and a friend were waiting at school for me to pick them up. The friend saw a vehicle similar to mine and asked, "Is that your mum?"

"Sure!" said C.
"Yes, that's our mum!" said A. "Because we recently got some red and blue lights and put them on top of the car. And mum recently joined the Police force. And then, she recently turned into a man and shaved her head!"

I thought this was hilarious... but I may just be suffering from the shock of a recently acquired bald head.

Bleeping Marvellous

2009-01-26T18:23:00.001-08:00

A and her friends at school have formed a group. They call themselves "The Bleep Team".

Anytime and anywhere they hear a kid say something profane, they say, very loudly, "BEEEEP!" In the cafeteria... BEEEP! Classroom... BEEEP!

They were sitting outside at lunchtime and a guy walked past them...
"Man, I can't believe that &*%$#..."BEEEEP!
"What the...?" "BEEEP!"
"Why are you &*%#$...beeping me?" "BEEEEP!" Giggle.

I'm going to initiate it in my home. For just me. When I hear something I don't like or something that I know will involve work, I can use it...

"Can I have some money for...." BEEEP!
"Why do I have to clean the..." BEEEEEP!
"Can I go to the movies with..." BEEEEP!
"I want that toy/CD/game/cell phone..." BEEEP!"
"I hate you for not getting me the toy/CD/game/cell phone...!" BEEEP, BEEEEEP!"

They will learn not to use that kind of language around me!

Potty Talk

2009-01-24T10:43:00.000-08:00

I am having trouble making the time to blog and read blogs. Because everyday normal stuff keeps interferring. Real life can be so annoying.

Staying up late at night to blog is not working for me anymore because I keep falling asleep and MM's snoring is no longer doing the trick. Bless his heart though, he tries.

Right now, I am sitting here listening to MM. He is telling the girls that it doesn't matter who didn't flush the toilet, it matters that nobody wants to flush it now.

C came dancing into the room to tell me she is going to make my breakfast. I hope the shock didn't register on my face.

That was twenty minutes ago...

A came in to nosey at what I'm writing. M said, "I bet she's blogging about us not flushing the toilet."

And the sad thing is, he's right.

Idol Retort

2009-01-22T15:55:00.000-08:00

If I needed another reason to watch Idol (and I don't), reason appeared in the form of Adam Lambert, from the Broadway show "Wicked", auditioning in San Francisco! (He played "Fiero"). He is already famous! And a good singer, if you don't mind effeminate hand gestures, and I don't.

And, I haven't noticed this before, but he really looks like Joe Jonas from "The Jonas Brothers" band. If you have pre-teens, you'll know who I am talking about.

Adam...

Joe...

My favourite worst: Dean Anthony Bradford, "Failed Entrepreneur" mangled Simply Red's "Stars". If the bad singing didn't do him in, the coat and the weird facial contortions would have.

My other favourite worst: Tiffany Shedd. Simey called her a donkey except donkeys don't wear such atrocious make-up.

I was a bit surprised with the judges reaction to Mark Mudd's casual remark, "Be careful." Anybody would have thought he was about to lob a hand-grenade at them! "Was that a threat? I think he just threatened us!" Come on, you sissy girls, he was just saying "goodbye"!

Finally, this is a girl we will probably be seeing alot of whether she makes it in American Idol or not. Joanna Pacitti. Looks and talent.

She reminds me of myself...

And the Winner is...

2009-01-22T15:18:00.000-08:00

DEBBIE! My daughter literally picked your name out of a hat! (Email your address to bluemags..at..gmail.)

But, nobody got the answer correct for yesterday's giveaway. The correct answer is: e) Paying multiple misdemeanor fines.

I admit nothing. I wasn't speeding and the light was green.

Criminal Minds

2009-01-21T08:28:00.000-08:00

I was wondering if the question would come up. Why, for the love of cleavage, was I at the Courthouse in the first place?

Choose one of the following:

a) Checking in with my probation officer.
b) Performing my civic (jury) duty.
c) Showing off my ample bosom.
d) Attending my DUI hearing.
e) Paying multiple misdemeanor fines.
f) Meeting my pal Judge Judy for lunch.
g) Using the restroom.

If you guess correctly, (and even if you don't) I will put you in the draw for a giveaway. This is not a shameless attempt to get attention... I had my fill of that at the Courthouse.

So COMMENT and WIN!

Here is the prize... The Barbie Diaries DVD... brand new and sealed. You are going to make some little girl (or boy?) very happy! (click on the picture for more dvd info, giveaway ends Jan 22 at 12pm)

Warning the Women

2009-01-20T21:38:00.000-08:00

A little advice... check yourself before you go through a metal detector.

I lined up with the crowd of people who had to go into the courthouse. After a few minutes I got to the front of the line and placed my bag, phone and keys on the security conveyor belt. As I stepped through the metal detector the alarm beeped. I turned to the two elderly security guards and shrugged. I emptied my pockets and they motioned for me to walk through again.

"Beep."

Hand-held metal detector... "beeeeeeep."

I looked helplessly at the security guard in front of me. He said, in an unnecessarily loud voice... "HMMM, I'M WONDERING... YOU'RE NOT WEARING ONE OF THOSE NEW-FANGLED UNDERWIRE BRAS ARE YA?" (pointing to my boobage)

Every head in the line behind me swivelled in my direction as I tried to answer this question in a dignified manner.

"Uh... yes, I think I may be wearing one of those..."

"SPEAK UP THERE, MA'AM!" he fairly screamed at me. "YOU'LL HAVE TO SAY IT INTO MY OTHER EAR... I'M A LITTLE HARD OF HEARING IN THIS ONE!"

"Yes... um...uh..."

"NO NEED TO BE EMBARRASSED MA'AM!" he shouted, "IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME! THEY'RE USING STURDY WIRE IN THOSE CONTRAPTIONS AND THEY ALWAYS SET THE ALARM OFF!" (Snorts and chortles to his ancient cohort.)

I made a hasty red-faced exit.

I have since discovered that security staff have the right to ask you to remove your new-fangled contraption before granting you entrance.

A bit of advice... wear your "non-fangled" contraption when you next go through a metal detector.

Save yourself the humiliation.

Wanna Piece of Me?... No?.... ok.

2009-01-18T06:01:00.000-08:00

I like Laura's High School questionnaire because I think the Eighties was a great time to be a teen and because I'm sure you haven't had enough of me yet...

1. Favourite movies: Bladerunner, Aliens, Back To The Future, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Ghostbusters, Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, The Terminator.

2. Favourite books: Anything by JRR Tolkien, Chronicles of Thomas Covenant by Stephen R Donaldson, Animal Farm by George Orwell, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams.

3. Favourite music: Devo, Human League, Eurythmics, Blondie, B-52's, Classix Nouveau, Depeche Mode, Falco, Gary Numan, Grace Jones, Landscape, Talking Heads, Simple Minds, Icehouse, Joy Division, The Cure, UB40, Blancmange, China Crisis, Ultravox.

4. Favourite video: Although it wasn't my favourite song, I liked the video for A-Ha's "Take On Me". Very artistic and ahead of it's time, I thought.

5. Favourite TV shows: Dr. Who, Fawlty Towers, Twilight Zone, Amazing Stories, Solid Gold, Max Headroom, Mork and Mindy. (don't say it)

6. Hair: Too traumatic to talk about.

7. Make up: Black eyeliner and that's all because wearing makeup at my school was so "wannabe".

8. Favourite foods: Fish and chips, chippies, french fries, crisps, chocolate.

9. Fashion sense: Black anything with pink fishnet stockings. (I was fifteen! It was the eighties!)

10. Confidence: Zero confidence but once I knew I had no chance with the cool kids, I found my fellow misfits and was just fine. I was probably the only normal one in the bunch.

11. Favourite subject: English, because our teacher gave us ice cream.

12. Least favourite subject: Physics. I mean, what for?

13. Sports: I sucked at everything except table tennis. But I haven't played it in so long, I suck at that too, now.

14. Favourite memory: Being in the school play "Thirteen Daughters". One day we were rehearsing and someone knocked over the lunch tray. All the food went flying and I turned around and said, "Hey! Who 'pea'd on the floor?" People laughed their heads off (lame I know) and one of the popular boys put his arm around my shoulders and I basked in my fame for a whole lunch break.

15. Most embarrassing thing: I felt the elastic in my undies snap whilst running to the cafeteria. When they started sliding down my legs, I stopped mid-step and tried to stay VERY STILL until there was no one around, so I could skulk off to the bathroom. (Wearing a skirt, people!) My friends kept coming up to me saying, "Come on! Aren't you hungry?" I just smiled and looked COMPLETELY STUPID.

16. Popularity: I was popular with the people who weren't popular.

17. Biggest bummer: Getting a new English teacher.

18. Smartest thing I did after High School: Still waiting...

We All Have Something to Hide

2009-01-17T10:42:00.000-08:00

OK, enough controversy. I was reading Kristina P's last post. She invited people to divest themselves of their secrets anonymously. If you want to be alternately dismayed, disgusted, amused and saddened... go ahead... read the comments.... It makes for sombre reading.

You can even post your dirty/clean/questionable/harmless secret if you want.

I posted something. And no, I wasn't the one who said they don't shower (gross) and I wasn't the one who said they have credit cards their husband doesn't know about (oh boy).

Last count... 318 comments.

Read 'em and WEEP.

P.S. I posted some more comments on there and I feel purged... I think it's therapeutic...

This Just In... Tom Hanks is a Bigot

2009-01-16T12:42:00.000-08:00

Tom Hanks, Executive Producer for HBO’s controversial polygamist series “Big Love,” made his feelings toward the Mormon Church’s involvement in California’s Prop 8 (which prohibits gay marriage) very clear at the show’s premiere party on Wednesday night.

“The truth is this takes place in Utah, the truth is these people are some bizarre offshoot of the Mormon Church, and the truth is a lot of Mormons gave a lot of money to the church to make Prop-8 happen,” he told Tarts.

“There are a lot of people who feel that is un-American and I am one of them. I do not like to see any discrimination codified on any piece of paper, in any of the 50 states in America, but here’s what happens now. A little bit of light can be shed and people can see who's responsible and that can motivate the next go around of our self correcting constitution and hopefully we can move forward instead of backwards. So lets have faith in not only the American, but Californian constitutional process.”

What an uninformed, bigoted, pig snot of a statement! It's contradictory, inflammatory and just plain WRONG!

I agree with The Jawa Report, that "Also un-American by his definition? ... Americans."

Don't you always mistrust people who feel they need to open their sentence with "The truth is..." and then continue to insist on it throughout the tirade?

Tom Hanks has just been nominated for my "Major Ignoramus Award". He's at the top so far. Vote for Tom! (Unaware that Gay Marriage isn't legal in 49 states.)

I have alot more indignation but I don't want to pop a blood vessel so I'll end my rant here. Feel free to voice your opinion whether you agree or not, but keep it clean or I'll be forced to put you on an island with a pair of ice skates and a volleyball.

While We're Comparing Faces...

2009-01-16T10:00:00.000-08:00

Quick question... Johnny Depp or Leonardo DiCaprio?

American Idol Sucks... in a Good Way

2009-01-16T00:03:00.000-08:00

Why is it that so many people, who OBVIOUSLY can't sing, audition for American Idol? And why are they so gobsmacked when they don't get a golden ticket?

Who told them they had talent anyway?

I felt very sorry for Michael Nicewonder but he was my favourite worst...

...or this guy, I can't decide...

Don't you love a man who can wear a woman's top and get away with it?

I couldn't find the pic of Jared Wiley who, "climbed the frothy mountains" but he got top billing also.

I die of embarrassment on their behalf when they beg to be humiliated on worldwide tv, but this is a huge part of the entertainment factor for me. And let's face it, if the show didn't have the weirdos and crazies, I probably wouldn't watch it.

And is it just me, or does Danny Gokey look ALOT like Robert Downey Junior, without the drug addiction?

Fake Robert...

Real Robert...

I only disagreed with Simon (hereafter to be known as "Simey") about two people. The bikini girl (vomit) shouldn't have made it and the Banana Guy should. He was GREAT.

What to Do?

2009-01-15T00:11:00.000-08:00

One thing I loathe to do is grocery shopping. I have strict dietary requirements. I prefer to eat real food as opposed to stuff masquerading as food. This means I have to stop and read all the ingredients to learn about each foods level of evilness.

As you can imagine, this takes hours and shortens tempers all around. Nobody likes to go shopping with me because I have to keep calling MM. "Can you google 'Potassium Bromate'?... uh huh... oh dear. Kids! Throw out the raisin bread, hamburger buns and bagels!"

After hours of this I make my way to the checkout with our groceries. Five organic bananas, a bottle of rice milk and twelve bars of chocolate.

I am very disenchanted with food in general, although you wouldn't know that to look at me. I like to eat but I don't like to be contaminated with all the toxic additives. (This does not include chocolate because we all know that the benefits outweigh the risk.)

So, I am looking for a way to eat healthy that doesn't involve joining a kibbutz, starting a commune, or swapping my Expedition for a horse and moving to Pennsylvania to become Amish. But then again, I do love Amish food...

I'm sure MM wouldn't mind growing a funny beard and changing his name to "Jacob Yoder", but the horse and buggy would play havoc with his sensitive bladder.

Oh, what the heck, I'll try anything once!

I better go practice my Amish... "Throw me down the stairs my shoes."

"Outen the light..."

Choose Your Husband Wisely

2009-01-14T00:07:00.000-08:00

MM scrunched up the $1 note and carefully threw it out the car window to the homeless man and woman standing on the side of the road. The guy yelled, "Thank you!" in our direction as we drove past.

The sign they were holding said:

"MY WIFE AND I ARE STRANDED AND HUNGRY, PLEASE HELP."

I have no problem sharing with those in need, (but for the grace of God, there go I) but I am a bit confused. I am assuming these people had nowhere to stay and no money. But they had money to purchase the cardboard and the thick black sharpie with which to make their sign.

Or, did they anticipate that they would become poor so planned ahead to bring cardboard and a sharpie?

Or, is there a Hobo Fairy that 'poofs' into existence the moment you become destitute, who solemnly hands you cardboard and a sharpie?

These and many other useless and time wasting questions were going through my head as we drove past this poor sad husband and his poor sad wife.

But, the most compelling question comes from A: "Why did she marry that homeless guy in the first place?"

It's Probably Rubbish

2009-01-13T07:56:00.000-08:00

I just saw an article advertising "The Best Job in the World".

Apparently, all you need to do is occasionally walk around a small island on Great Barrier Reef in Australia and make sure everything is OK. Take pictures, do a little snorkeling, skinny-dipping, then report back to the boss... "Everything is okay boss."

Job comes with free three bedroom house. Bring the kids and grandma.

And the salary for this? US$105,000!!

I'm suspicious... you know the old adage... if it looks to good to be true... it's probably worse than you can imagine. Which leads me to believe that there is a huge catch here that they don't mention.

Personally, I think they're going to be doing some nuclear testing and you're their guinea pig. One day you will be sipping your virgin pina colada and thanking your lucky stars when KABOOM! "Did you feel that earthquake?"

Two days before the lesions appear.

By all means, check out the article. Go ahead, apply.

I'm just saying.

Blind Leading the Blind

2009-01-13T00:02:00.000-08:00

You see before you a picture of a drive-thru Automatic Teller Machine. Nothing unusual about that. But take a closer look...

What is that you see to the left of the keypad? Is that BRAILLE?

I am so pleased that banks make it easy for blind people to DRIVE TO THE BANK to deposit or withdraw their money from the safety and comfort of their CAR.

What a wonderful country.

Bloggering Exile

2009-01-12T00:01:00.000-08:00

I created this blog so my family could read about our slide into degradation on a regular basis. But, only two of my relatives have ever made the monumental effort to log on and take a look.

Most of my family is in New Zealand. If you were able to see my blog counter thingamajig, you would see that I get hits from all over the world. Even Zimbabwe came for a chat.

The Warsaw Pact visited last week. Sputnik came for a lookski and Big Ben popped over for a spot of tea with scones. Kangaroos took a gander by the billabong while Sauerkraut goosestepped over (don't mention the war) to wave hello. Kung Fu Panda handed me a fortune cookie, then Mater gave me some really good tractor tipping... uh... tips.

But I have not received ONE HIT from my relatives in New Zealand. Why? You might well ask. I'm starting to feel a tad ignored. No phone calls over Christmas and now this!

Overlooked.

Dumped.

Rejected.

I may have to put an ad in the paper: "Kiwi chick. Pure breed. Available for immediate adoption. Cute and cuddly. Comes when called. Likes children. Will do tricks for food."

Breaking and Entering

2009-01-11T07:20:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I just sit and listen...

C: Mum, do we have any bricks?
Moi: What?
C: Do we have any BRICKS?
Moi: Well, I think so. Why?
C: Because A is going to eat them.
She said she'd rather eat bricks than listen to my music. So, I just need to know if we have any, because A has to eat some. And I'm going to make sure she does it. You better get your camera out.

A: (Laughing) OK, where are the bricks?
C: Out there... (shoves her sister out the back door and locks it)
A: (Knock, knock)
C: She can stay out there until she eats ONE brick.
A: (Banging on the door) This is NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!
C: When dad gets home we'll have to listen to his music. Then she'll have to eat FOUR bricks.

Moi: Enough, let her in.
C: FINE! (Flounces to the door and opens it)
A: (Bursts into the room) Mum, I got the door open with this screwdriver!
C: No you didn't. I just UNLOCKED IT!
A: No.... I did it myself! I broke into the house!
C: OK, let me see... (walks out....walks back in) Mum, she took the whole doorknob off! Dad is so gonna kill her!

A: (Walks in) Mum, you guys need to get a new doorknob. This one is rubbish.
Moi: YOU GET YOUR BUM OUT THERE AND PUT THE DOOR HANDLE BACK ON RIGHT NOW!
C: And you still have to EAT that BRICK!
A: (Stomps out)

(Muffled sounds from outside.) Bang, bang. "Crap!"

** This is not a fabricated flight of fancy. I wrote it as it was actually taking place, right in front of me. You think I could make this stuff up?

Mobile Desperation

2009-01-10T00:01:00.001-08:00

I am sure MM does not want me to blog about this but he has not yet realised something that the kids figured out months ago. That I will freely blog every humiliating event I hear about. I don't give warnings and I don't ask permission... that's what makes it fun.

MM can tell you exactly how many restrooms are closed between work and home during the hours of 5 and 7pm. He can tell you which restrooms have locks and no keys, which ones have surly non-English speaking attendants and which ones are perpetually occupied. He can also predict to a nano second when and where the traffic will slow to a stop, usually at the most torturous and uncomfortable time of bursting desperation.

As is often the case, I had the perfect solution for his daily predicament.

"I have one word for you honey, "Bedpan"."

I was feeling quite proud of myself for solving his problem instantly. I was not prepared for the "are you bonkers?" stare.
"Why are you looking at me like that? It's a perfect solution! Tailor-made for you. It obviously wouldn't work for me. You wait. This time tomorrow you will be WISHING you had a bedpan next to you in the car."

No comment.

Walking away.

"Well, if you get blood poisoning or whatever you get when your BLADDER EXPLODES, don't CALL ME!"

Some people just won't be helped.

A Healthy Pre-Occupation

2009-01-09T18:27:00.000-08:00

For all you kind people praying for me to find my Huge Belgian Hunk, (thank you, good and gracious friends!) pray no more....

I have been rescued from chocolate deprivation by the half-price sale at Fresh & Easy. Down from a paltry $1.99 to just $1! For ONE POUND bars!

I walked into the store and could barely contain myself when I saw the word: "Reduced". I may have lay down in the clearance bin right then and there if I hadn't seen other people in the store. Stupid witnesses!

Anyway, I decided that now is a perfect time to stock up for our food storage. So I bought five Belgians.

For FOOD STORAGE.

(For those people who think I am going to wait til the kids go to bed, run up to my bedroom, put on my Lucky Ducky pajamas, snuggle in bed with my book, then rip off that wrapper and shove chocolate down my gullet with gay abandon, SHAME ON YOU!)

(A wanted to model the Belgians so I let her... WAIT! Where is Huge Hunk Number Five?)

Thief-proof Chocolate

2009-01-09T00:03:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that the only way to ensure that a treat lasts more than ten minutes, is to hide it. Last night I knew I was going to have to do this with my "Huge Belgian Hunk". Three pairs of eyes were fixed on it for hours, probably hoping I would go to bed and leave it where they could sniff it out in the dead of night when I would be, theoretically, asleep. (Yes, they go to these lengths.)

But I foresaw this attempt (with my third eye) and I thwarted them by hiding it in a fabulous place, known only to myself. I am too good.

Now that they are in bed, I am going to get it; my mouth is eagerly anticipating the velvety smooth chocolateyness.

Wait a minute, where exactly did I put it?

Aarghhhh! I CAN'T REMEMBER!

Rubbish brain! Stupid brain-cell-killing pregnancies! They did it to me!

OK, don't panic... get the yellow pages... look up "Regression Hypnosis".
Mental note: Call first thing in the morning.

All is not lost.

I'm In Love!

2009-01-07T09:52:00.000-08:00

MM has to move over to make room for the new "huge hunk" in my life. $1.99!

And, OH YES... he's FRESH... and EASY. All you could possibly want in a Huge Hunk of Belgian.

Don't Mention the War

2009-01-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

A clip of my favourite Fawlty Towers episode. If you like John Cleese or Monty Python humour, you will like this... made in 1975. I was just a kid at the time but this is as funny now as it was then.

Did I Say That?

2009-01-06T10:52:00.000-08:00

I think the effects of blogging and mocking have spilled over and are wreaking havoc on my real life. Yesterday MM asked me how he should ask his one-eyed hairstylist how she came to only have one eye and I just blurted out (I swear it wasn't premeditated) "Just walk up to her and say, "Hey Cyclops! How's that empty socket thing working for ya? I hear they've made great strides in the glass eye department."

Yes, MM was mortified and so was I. Before the words even left my mouth I knew it was going to be bad.

I must have been in the toilet when they were handing out TACT.

AND, you are all a bad influence on me. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

She Gets It From Her Father

2009-01-06T00:01:00.000-08:00

C has bionic ears attuned to specific frequencies. If you open a candy wrapper fifty feet away from her, she will move with Edward-like stealth, and be at your side within seconds. A couple of strands of hair lift in the breeze and there she is. "Ohhh... can I have some?"

She can also hear the ice cream lid being removed and soda being poured into a glass. If I want to eat anything that contains sugar, I have to distract her with some ploy, remove myself to my bedroom, lock the sound proofed doors, get in bed, cover my head with multiple blankets, and carefully... carefully peel off the wrapper.

KNOCK, KNOCK, BANG, BANG.

"MUM! What have you got in there? Can I have some?"

Every time.

Do Not Read if You are Sensitive to Crap

2009-01-05T13:59:00.001-08:00

I saw this church sign generator thingie on Kristina's blog and I thought, "I need to get me one of those!" So, I got me one... and here it is. I needed to post it quickly before MM sees it because he thinks the "C" word is crass and he would probably look askance at me, then ask WWJD? You see, what you are coming to realise is, that out of the two of us, he's the nice one.

For sure I will not be showing him Kristina's blog because she talks about "fat recycling crack whores smoking in church nude" and everything. But maybe I should show him her latest post because then I would look so wholesome by comparison.

So go... get yourself a church sign and make up your own slogan... you will not be sorry. Just make sure you don't choose a REAL church name or you will have whole congregations coming after you with a vengeance. And I wouldn't be in your shoes for NUTHIN'.

Early to Church... A First Time for Everything

2009-01-05T12:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the first Sunday of the New Year... and I was sooo excited, not because it was the first Sabbath of 2009, not because it was a lovely sunny day, not because I didn't have to drop kick the kids into the car.... it was because we now start church at 12.30pm! By jove, the church is TRUE!

(I know some people prefer early start church, but I am allergic to waking up early. I get hives and it's just horrible. People see me and scream, "What is that THING?" and it all turns into a bad taste B movie.)

But, we had a grand start... all the children were squeaky clean and in their uncreased, unstained, un cat-furred glory, ready to go EARLY! (I'm sure they won't make a habit of it.)

Even the small disaster of running out of nail polish remover with three red nails left didn't faze me. But I prepared an answer for those who might notice and be bold enough to ask me what in the blazes was I thinking, going to church like that?
"Scientists have discovered that glancing at three red, chipped and hideous fingernails stimulates a subconscious response to eat less." (Or, put you off your food completely.)

Beautiful Gospel Art by David Bowman

2009-01-04T18:30:00.000-08:00

If you like beautiful paintings of the Saviour (and who doesn't?) you will be happy and gratified to know that David Bowman is the artist to follow. He has talent in spades... and... clubs...hearts, whatever.
Anyway, you can read his stuff in this post then click on his website to go BUY, BUY, BUY, SPEND, SPEND, SPEND! (And remember to tell him I sent you.)

David Bowman: has had a passion for art ever since he could pick up a pencil. He loves creating images of the Savior that inspire and uplift. Along with his Christian fine art, David has also written and illustrated a series of scripture storybooks for children titled "Who's Your Hero?"

Check out his website at http://bowman-art.com/indexFineart.htm to see more of his precious art.

"Innocence"
The Savior tells us we need to become as little children to inherit the kingdom of God. I've often wondered what it is about little children Jesus loves most, and I think its their innocence. They are clean slates, seeing the world and others through untarnished eyes. Their hearts are pure, without the baggage of cynicism and self-doubt. In this piece, I've tried to imagine how a child would act upon meeting the Master for the first time. Without reservation or inhibition, I think he would simply want to play with Him. He would be at complete ease, allowing his pure little heart to soak in the love and laughter of His pure, infinite heart. Its no wonder Christ delights in these little ones and sets them up to be our examples.

"Security"
One of the greatest human needs is a sense of security. In all aspects of life, we naturally gravitate towards anything that makes us feel safe. In this piece, I wanted to convey a sense of complete peace and calm like only the Savior can provide. It's a security that allows us to rest assured, without fear or worry, when we put ourselves trustingly in His arms. Little children have that inherent kind of trust in their parents, so it's fitting that the man and girl who modeled for "Security" are actually father and daughter. They generated the exact feel I was looking for.

"My Child"
This piece conveys an intimate, up-close-and-personal feeling of the Savior's love. Notice how all the lines draw your attention and point towards Jesus' face in the center. I chose the name "My Child" because the only thing that could compare (even remotely) to Christ's compassion for us is the love of a parent for his/her child. This image is also intended to put things in perspective. Above all, we are God's children first. He allows us the privilege of experiencing parenthood for ourselves and we are entrusted to be the mothers and fathers of His children here on earth.

Shopping is Torture

2009-01-02T19:05:00.000-08:00

I used to like clothes shopping for the kids. But, sometime last year when I began getting attitude from the children, I really started to HATE it. I was constantly being told how "uncool" my taste in clothes is. Shopping began to be an ordeal.

One day, after about an hour of "Ewww yuck! That is DISGUSTING!" (like I was holding up a rotting corpse or something), I decided to do something about it. I told the child to "Come over here. I want to try an experiment with you." She obediently trotted over.

"How about you drop everything you're doing and drive me to the store in your car using gas you paid for. Then, you try helping me choose clothes for myself while I flounce behind you and say YUCK! EWW! and UGH! I will also indicate my displeasure with rolling eyeballs, whining and patronizing grunts. I will moan about trying on clothes and snarl when you bring me the wrong coloured pants. I will continue to complain and tantrum until you are ready to chew your own leg off. ("PLEASE! Make it STOP!")

Then, we will march to the checkout and you will use your money to pay for everything I chose for me. You don't get anything for yourself. Then you drive me back to your home (where I live rent-free) so I can show off my new clothes while you start cooking my dinner (that you also paid for).

How does that sound?"

Since then I've had no problems.

This is a picture of me having just completed my shopping Mall frenzy. All paid for by my children. You can see my hair has grown. And I lost about 170 pounds. (I am loving this fantasy!)

How Did You Spend New Years Eve?

2009-01-02T00:01:00.001-08:00

MM and Moi: Dinner at a nice restaurant... then home and bed by eleven. No, that was MM. I was the one who waited up until the kids were home from their respective parties. I watched the New Years ball lower on tv. I so envied those people thronging Times Square in -8 degrees celsius.
Cold is such fun.

A: "We watched the ball come down then we ran outside and screamed and yelled and banged on pots and pans! Then someone yelled, "Shut up!" And guess what? I haven't eaten since LAST YEAR!"

D: No comment... kid couldn't hack it and fell asleep at five minutes to midnight.

Co: "We played this really cool game called "Curses!" where you have to do whatever the card says for the duration of the game. So, my friend had to pretend that her wrists were super glued to her head for like, an hour and a half! A guy had to speak with an Irish accent. Another guy had to cry like a baby, act like he was surprised, then faint. People kept ringing the bell and making him do it over and over. "Waa waa, eek!" THUD. "Waa waa, eek!" THUD. Then we toasted the New Year with Martinellis... it was cool."

M: No comment... sent to bed early for disgraceful behaviour.

C: No comment... At a sleepover with her friend probably eating burgers, fries, chips, chocolate, cake, candy, sugar on the side with a sugar chaser, and watching movies she isn't allowed to see.

Goodbye 2008. It was fun while it lasted.

(update: C swears she only ate Hersheys kisses and pizza and Wall-E was the movie they watched. A likely story.)

New Years Resolutions Rubbish

2009-01-01T00:22:00.000-08:00

Mark Twain said, "Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving he-- with them as usual."

I have some half-baked resolutions that I doodled on a piece of virtual paper. They will probably hit the apathy wall by January 31st but what the heck, here goes...

1) Be a better Tooth Fairy.
2) Spend at least 10 minutes a day doing something non-computer related.
3) No more "Twilight" bashing. (ha, ha, like that'll happen)
4) Watch more tv. (It's good for the soul)
5) ~~Learn to sew.~~ Make friends with someone who can sew.
6) Buy some Clone Wars rubber duckies. (just because)
7) Cut down on chocolate ~~and ice cream~~. (don't want to go crazy here)
8) Stop saying "rubbish" all the time. (which is rubbish, really)
9) Don't laugh at other people's misfortune. (unless it's funny)
10) Stop eating. (which will also help with number 7.)

Done!

2009, bring it ON.

Tooth Fairy Outed

2008-12-31T00:01:00.000-08:00

M got real mad the other day. It seems that the Tooth Fairy was lax in her tooth-collecting, money-delivery duties. If M had anything to do with it, Toothy would be out of a job. He was that mad.
I insisted, "Well, maybe she couldn't find the tooth! You know you sometimes knock it under the bed and who could find anything under there?"
Silence. Look of contempt.
So I stalled... "Maybe if you put it in a plastic bag and place it carefully under your pillow, she will find it tonight."
"Okay." Eyeing me suspiciously.
Good, I have another night to redeem myself, I mean... contact the Tooth Fairy.

Next day...
"MUM! My tooth is STILL THERE!"
"Your whaa.... ?" Oh no, I forgot the stupid tooth.... AGAIN!
Son standing in front of me, hands on hips. "I can't BELIEVE this!"
Think quick... um... "Did you do what I told you?" gesturing wildly to MM as he walks behind me.
"MM, can you imagine..." with arched eyebrows and meaningful look,
"...the Tooth Fairy couldn't find M's tooth?"
MM nods, casually walks upstairs into M's room, then reappears at the top of the stairs shaking his head and shrugging.
"M, did you put your tooth in a new place?"
"Yes, inside the pillow case so it wouldn't fall out!" (Duh!)
MM disappears again then reappears nodding vigorously, thumbs up.
"M, maybe you should go check under your pillow again...?"
"Oh, alright!"
Stomps upstairs... then yells, "Here it is... she gave me ONE DOLLAR! Thanks Dad!"

(I just added a funny but weird video recommended by the Machen family. Thank you Machens! Its called "Confessions of a Tooth Fairy." Funny. But weird.)

Another Snow Story

2008-12-30T15:43:00.000-08:00

While I stayed home eating chocolate and reading my book in my quiet house (I had a horrible time!) the family was up in the snow trying not to fall off their snowboards.
The good news... no broken limbs.
The bad news... slim pickings in the photo department because I was not there yelling at them to LOOK! or DO THAT AGAIN SLOWER! and SMILE! (That's what it takes folks.)

D was a natural and showed everyone how its done...

A is ready to go... Bring It On.

Smoooooth!

Happy Birthday MM!

2008-12-30T00:01:00.000-08:00

MM is now the Meaning of Life!

And here is the opening of the presents picture... don't worry about the beautiful ribbon that I painstakingly attached to your gift, just fling that off... no worries... and ... HEY!
Do you see what I see? THE ABSENCE OF WEDDING RING ON FINGER!

THAT'S IT! I'm buying the GPS auto tracker!

Oh and... don't tell MM... this will be our little secret ok? Shhhhh....

Snow Shmow

2008-12-29T00:01:00.000-08:00

I jinxed myself. Yesterdays post was not supposed to be self-fulfilling prophecy. (See list item c.) And, I actually wrote it the day before yesterday and had it scheduled to pop up in the morning so it makes it even more absurd that today I... have... a COLD!

Everyone is excited to go up the mountain today. Without me. I will not have the privilege of prancing around in flaky white happiness... real snow that comes from the actual sky... like this. Beautiful, is it not?

MM is going to ski (he assures me he can do this) and the kids are anxious to throw themselves down slippery slopes. I hope they take some good pictures before the trip to the Emergency Room. (Pessimism has always served me well.)

As for me... no worries... I just read the best advice... "Feed A Cold" and I have truckloads of chocolate to do just that.

Slave Drivers

2008-12-28T00:02:00.000-08:00

Now that Christmas is done, the cooking is done and we have leftovers to last six days, it's time to relax and breathe for a bit. Isn't it? No?
"Mum, I need you to take me to Barnes and Noble."
"... Kohls."
"... GameStop."
"... Walmart."
"... HobbyTown."

Curse you gift cards!

Here are my various responses...
a) "Get out of here before I karate chop you... Hi-Yaa!"
b) "I'll take you if you pay... show me the money first."
c) "Arrchhoooo! I cad't. I'b tick."
d) "Ask your dad."

So far answer d) has worked best (because MM is a push over). The kids didn't fall for c) and a) just made them laugh. b) almost worked... "Just take the money mum, take it." (mournful face)
Ah, crap.

The Best Christmas Ever

2008-12-27T00:06:00.000-08:00

I share President Monson's sentiments... this has been the best Christmas ever.

Although we were careful to shop frugally, we still enjoyed an abundance of gifts (cameras, DVD players, MP3 players, PSP game systems, paintball guns, perfume and chocolate... Lady Godiva of course) and an over-abundance of food.

Christmas morning saw the usual chaos... wrapping paper flung off and boxes ripped into... shouts of glee... yahooing... scoffing candy canes and so on.

In spite of the surrounding distractions... I still felt the spirit of the season more than in previous years.

The birth of the Saviour is a vital and tangible thing for me. Listening to Christmas hymns and carols brought deep feelings of gratitude. I try not to take for granted the blessing it is to know and understand the Saviour's purpose, although I am sure I am an 'unprofitable servant' and not 'easy to be entreated'. Whatever my faults (and they are legion), I still felt special and counted as a child of God.

It doesn't get any better than this.

Define "Crazy"

2008-12-26T00:01:00.000-08:00

I was doing a wee bit of blog walking tonight, reading some funny, serious, boisterous, cute and heart-rending posts, and I came to the conclusion that we as bloggers and mums belittle ourselves unnecessarily and generally expect too much from ourselves.
It's true... tell me how many blogs you have seen that have titles like "The Crazy House", and "Welcome to my Insanity", "Nutcase Habitat" and "My Asylum" etc?
Lots, right?
Yeah, so I pondered on that, it being Christmas and a perfect time to ponder, (in between cooking, cleaning, and cooking and cleaning) and wondered why we think we are so dysfunctional. Because we really aren't. We are perfectly normal people living in a challenged, disaffected, desensitized world.

It's quite normal to feel that we are crazy. We'd be crazy to think that we aren't.

(Mr Bean's Christmas... and I promise this is the last Christmas video for the year.)

Merry Christmas! Buon Natale! Mere Kirihimete! Frohe Weihnachten! Feliz Navidad! Nollaig Chridheil!

2008-12-25T00:01:00.000-08:00

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ONE AND ALL!