Stock tip

I'm the econ savvy type that had an account both at WaMu and Wachovia, so take this stock tip with the necessary caution, but I think I'm investing in mattresses and soup cans with false bottoms.

At least that's where I'm putting my actual money.

Looking forward to Monday

I gotta admit to feeling like I'm a pint short of plasma or something this Sunday evening.

Which is odd because on paper, this was a great weekend. Extra long, because the kids had Friday off. Two dinners with good friends, watching Stevie play hockey this morning, 2 workouts and even finally getting around to a couple of annoying projects like painting the baseboards in the family room and bathroom doors and cleaning out the girls' dresser. I even closed a sweet gig for SD that I will have to reveal at a later date. Yet I still can't shake this weird lethargy. And I'm not quite sure what is to blame for it.

So let's curl up with this weird little novel--historic fiction about Errol Flynn shagging some Jamaican girl--and call it a night, shall we?

I'm spent.

Debate-Irate

The Debate is on! Awesome, I will be pulling up a couch and a glass or 8 of wine and enjoying the evening.

Speaking of debates, I wrote a completely non-partisan, unbiased, milk toast column today on the subject. Humor writing, it's what I try to do. Anyway, although I rarely cross-post, I did put this one up at The Times knowing full well that all of the crazies would come crawling out of their mothers' basements to comment because it hinted at politics.

I've learned over the last several years on this Internet thing that there are some people out there who read exactly what they want to, regardless of what the author's true and obvious intent was. And that the anonymity of the Internet provides cover for some real mean bastards.

So even though I made no political leaning in either direction, how much do you want to make a bet that at least 3 people call me bad names, 2 will cite bogus email rumors as sources, and 1 will offer to pray for the wickedness of my soul.

I'll bet you $700 billion....

What New Wheels Should the Intern Get? Vote Now!

So the Intern, a.k.a. The Graduate, a.a.k.a. The Nephew, a.a.a.k.a. That Big Guy That Lives Here Now, is in the market for a new car.

I am behind this purchase 100%. Every morning I watch him shake a battery cable and play a game of 3 card Monte with his spark plugs in order for his car to start to go to work. Every night by some miracle he returns home in said tenuous shell game car with flushed cheeks and wet brow from his lack of air conditioning.

As Rafiki says, “It is time.”

So, now the question becomes, what is a suitable vehicle for the Intern? It must be something fitting for his unique life--driving around my kids, to my friends after a meal I’ve prepared.

Kidding.

He has his thoughts--a Corvette, a Mustang…A truck of some sort.

I’m thinking a nice, safe, practical Volvo or fuel efficient-hybrid. Perhaps a motorcycle with 4 sidecars including room for a carseat and a bag of groceries. (Actually, anything as long as it doesn’t have some ridiculous redneck vanity plate like, “GITRDONE,” I’m good.)

At this impasse--which I know I have no chance of imposing my will I know--what do you think?

I've created the following non-partisan poll so you can vote in this election as many times as you'd like. (We're in Florida after all.)

Powered by vLane.com See more | Create your own!

I Drink for Charity

On to the Saturday recap…

As I mentioned a few dozen times when I hit you all up for donations, Saturday was our High Heel Hike to benefit cancer research.

And can I just tell you, this was one of THE BEST charity events I’ve ever been to.

A few fellow crazies accompanied me on our 1 kilometer journey through a quaint shopping district.




Because of its incredible athletic demands--about every 10 feet or so there was a booth set up with cupcakes or cocktails or presents. Seriously, I think the only thing that would have made this better is if they had wheeled us around on gurneys and gave us cab fare for the ride home. Even the minor children were inpressed.



But it was all for a good cause, and I finally got to meet some fellow writers over at the Times. In fact, here’s my friend Stephanie’s recap with even more photos…

We had such a good time that it almost makes me want to put these cruel shoes back on and go walking down my street to see if anyone will give me mini Mimosas.



Almost...

Cascade Wedding

If you were wondering how we fared, I’d say beautifully. (Not abundantly photogenic, but the sign of a good party is its lack of pictures, I always say, or wish.)



They were great. They made it down the aisle, with just a little help which was to be expected.






The wedding was beautiful, and everyone had a great time.



And they were like Cascade dishwashing liquid--virtually spot free until the very end.

Cutting back

Would you think less of me if I told you I didn't know how I was going to pull off the next 48 hours, because I really don't know how I'm going to pull off the next 48 hours.

We've got a wedding, rehearsal, shopping, tux pick-up (again), baseball game, school orientation, baths, haircuts, minor alterations, homework, deadlines and then the High Heel Hike where I will collapse into a heap of exhaustion in good shoes.

So something has got to give in order to get all of the required tasks done, and I've determined that the cooking and cleaning have to go by the wayside.

Sorry, honey.

Wedding or Cookie Aisle?

My sister in-law, Kathy, says that everyone at a wedding has a job. You may not be in the actual wedding party or have helped with the plans before, during, or after the big day, but even as a guest, your job is to enjoy the party that your hosts have spent months planning.

I agree with this wholeheartedly. But as the Mother of the Bridesmaids and Junior Groomsmen, I think that sometimes the jobs are not very equitable.

Our family is truly honored to be part of an upcoming blessed event for a dear family friend. But as the mother/valet/hairdresser/last-minute seamstress for 2 Flower girls (under the age of 5) and 2 handsome, but young, ushers (8 and 12) I am pretty nervous that I’ll get them all to the church on time.

And not just on time, but presentable and not sticky. I don’t know if we’ve ever managed an hour in which some sort of hazardous chemical or confectionary spill has not befallen at least one of us. Even if we institute a 15 minute fast in the car ride to our destination, they somehow manage to pull a chocolate ice cream cone from their pocket or a wide-mouthed glass of Hawaiian Punch from the trunk. It’s uncanny, really. The kids have to wear lobster bibs on the five minute drive to church. The baby’s car seat has a magnetic field that attracts Tootsie Rolls and Pop Tart crumbs, and the backseat draws its own orbit of jelly donuts.

So some jobs at a wedding are a little dirtier than others.

I have no idea how I am going to get four kids to walk down the aisle looking as though they haven’t visited the cookie aisle first.

This is

These are the faces that check on Amy on her first week of school and call me to report on her progress. These are the faces that take on my extra passengers to baseball games and hockey practices. This is Thirty Thursdays. This is birthday lunches. This is who has adopted the Intern. These gals look as beautiful as Doris Day, but have Dean Martin livers. These are the ladies that you want on your side. They can cook. They will make you laugh.

They are my friends.

Let's Dance

Two magazine articles, 2 Times blogs, 4 normal blog entries, 2 product reviews, 1 column and innumerable emails in the last 4days, and frankly, I'm all written out.

Which is okay because I've got nothing due for a couple of days, and so I've got some family time to enjoy. It's the first Middle School Dance of the year tonight which makes me want to do my own little dance at the sheer awkward adorableness of it all. Remember what it was like practicing dancing in the mirror, worrying about what you were going to wear and who was going to ask you to dance? Yeah, I think it's still the same today.

Only with one added nuance: slow dancing while leaving room for the Holy Spirit between them.

Christmas in September

I don’t know about you, but I could use a little early Christmas spirit right about now…

I got this preview package from Tiny Prints of their holiday collection, and let me tell you, my mind is racing at all of the possibilities….

You know I never think of holiday preparation until it’s too late, but this inspires me to get a little jiggy with the cards this year….



I think I’m leaning toward this one because it’s hard to find the 4 framed cards….



But then this one is 20% off if you order before 9/15.…




They are all beautiful and feel really substantial and elegant. I probably won't go wrong with any. I might even invite those strangers in the cards over for rum balls and egg nog.

Happy Holidays…eventually.

Christmas cards, Holiday, Business

Why I should stick to writing fiction today

Happy Birthday Intern!

Last night's festivities proved once again that I have the most generous friends who embrace my family like it was their own, and for that I am truly blessed.

(And so is the Intern for being lavished with expensive gifts!)

But today it's back to business. I've been in this writing funk the last several days with a million thoughts running through my head with no where to go except the keyboard. Yesterday, I spent the chunk of my writing time trying to capture these conflicting thoughts--mostly on politics--into some sort of coherent commentary.

I failed miserably.

I read over what I had thought to be the brilliant Jerry Maguire manifesto which would change American politics as we know it. I crafted my arguments while doing the dishes. I came up with witty yet poignant metaphors while vacuuming. I wrote and wrote this brilliance most of the day, and then when I reread it at midnight, I discovered it was crap. It made no sense even to me who penned it.

But I got it out of my system and spared the world yet another glimpse into my mind rants, so I guess it wasn't all bad after all. You can thank me later.

But today I had better get my literate freak back on because it's meeting night and deadline week. Tonight's kind of a biggie, too, and if you thought the national political scene just got interesting, you should see my local one.

Stupid is as stupid does at the Mall

The Intern and I are arguing on whether or not it was a stupid question that the clerk asked me if I needed any instructions on how to burn the $40 candle I bought. I think if you pay such a stupid amount for a candle, then lighting it should be all that's required. The Intern is talking about wick heights and thinks I'm stupid for buying a $40 candle and then just letting the wick stand the size of a California Redwood in autumn leaves scented wax.

(The Intern and I spend a lot of time together and I have noticed that we argue like a couple of little old ladies much of the time.)

But I think we all can agree that the morons working at the cookie store at the Mall are stupid.


Seriously, you just try to do something nice for a friend and all of a sudden you're going to dictionary.com on your iPhone in the food court. Idiots.

Please tell me it's Friday already

Is it me, or was this an incredibly long week for being an abbreviated one? I feel like I’m dragging around a couple of bags of wet sand in each shoe.

So I didn’t write a column this week--still processing amongst the many new topics that have just opened up in the world of satire and humor--but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy. A short list below, since it involves audience participation.

~I was asked to participate in the High Heel Hike to raise money for breast cancer research. If you want to join us on September 20 or donate to the cause, that would sure be nice. I think we all get to dress in drag and walk a mile. It’ll be fun, and who doesn’t love the idea of pushing a stroller in stilettos?

~And if you are crazy about Disney, then there is this Disney Mom Panel opportunity that you can read about here. A sort of Mrs. Disney Mom 2009 thing. (Don’t worry, I cannot fulfill my duties as the Queen, so someone else has a fair shot.)

~The Intern’s birthday is on Monday. I need to bake and frost something. And we need to figure out how to celebrate that event. So get busy, party planners.

~And check out this little distraction, or rather Category 4 distraction. Looks like Ike is looking for a showdown with the Gulf coast. This does not bode well for those of us looking to do anything after 8 p.m. on Wednesday…



~There’s like 755 more things I want to address blog-wise, but that whole bag of wet sand thing has just traveled to my fingers and I should chop a carrot or something for dinner before I atrophy.

Must Not See TV

I don't think it's good for me to watch this much convention coverage. I go to bed angry, don't sleep well and then have nightmares about angry white people chanting, "Drill, Baby, Drill!" I need to stay away from the tv and blogs tonight.

I know, I'll write instead. What a novel novelty.

(See? My old punny self will replace this cackling, twitching, crazed version that wears my shoes and argues with herself in the shower soon enough.)

The good news and the bad

The one downside of having my wisdom teeth all healed is that my summer diet program is officially over.

Since I had been relying on relentless, excruitiating pain to prevent me from putting anything in my mouth all summer, I realize that strategy is now obsolete and I will have to rely on more traditional methods of portion control.

Which pretty much sucks and makes my thighs sore just thinking about it.

September

I've been ignoring the calendar page flip to September for quite some time.

I've not thought past Labor Day in one of my ill-conceived mental protests that only hurts me in the end. Even school was just pre-season since we had hurricanes and a holiday.

We puntuated Summer '08 with good food, good friends, and a weekend o'fun in general. We had a late night swim last night (from which we are all dragging from today)and there are enough leftovers to carry us through until I make my way to the store again.

But now I can no longer delude myself into thinking we're still in summer. I've got to get my butt on a treadmill, my fingers on a keyboard and my mind on that autumn schedule known as "crazy." The girls both have colds and J's nose needs to be chilsed for air holes, so I'll probably be going to the doctor at some point this week which will make re-entry into responsible motherhood complete.

Hey September, be gentle.