My Christmas Card to You...

This year is almost over. I don't know what it held for you, but for me it had not only the lowest points of my life, but in some ways the highest. As I write this, I'm at my ex-husband's house spending Christmas Eve with he and his wife, and her family. A little surreal, but makes me feel good that life goes on, love endures and the holidays are all about love.

Which is why I feel the need to write this very politically incorrect Christmas card. It seems to me that recognizing the true meaning of Christmas is out of fashion, so in my Christmas card to cyber-space, I need to go back to the basics.

Like I said, this year has been the highest and the lowest. I have no idea what next year holds, but I think it's going to be awesome. Can't be sure, but I just have a feeling.

This is what I DO know... I know that there is a God, a creator of this universe and everything in it, who loves me and loves each of you passing by this blog. I know that He doesn't care what we've done, who we've done it with, how hideous we've been or how much we've ignored Him in our lifetimes. He loves us unconditionally and has since before we were born. Regardless of your religion, your political beliefs or whatever else separates human beings, God does not care. Even if you do not love Him, He still loves you. For you parents...you know how much you love your kids? He loves them more. For those of you with hideous in-laws, even those with enemies...He loves them too, as much as He loves you. He models unconditional love and is the only one who truly can. Some of you may scoff at this very politically incorrect Christmas card, and that's okay. You may not believe in what I'm saying, and that's okay. I've never shoved my beliefs down anyone's throat and that isn't my intention now. Just wanted you to remember that no matter how alone you feel, you never are.

My prayer for the next year is that God blesses each one of you abundantly. That your life, and the lives of everyone you love and care for, is filled with peace, love and joy.

Merry Christmas.

My 10 Year-Old's Letter to Santa, Part II

My little girl put a stocking up on the wall the other day to fill with letters to Santa that we write between now and Christmas. She's added one a day for several days, and this was her last one...she is priceless, and I'm a lucky mom.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Dear Santa,

I am so glad you reached our house even though we moved! You can take a look around! It's awesome! My mommy is the best! And got it! I told you on my list but I was wondering if you could give my mommy a gift even though she is a mommy! She is the greatest mommy and really deserves it! Will you also fill her stocking? Hers is the one that looks just like mine but is hanging from the Y (as in the word J-O-Y). She loves candles, pictures, stuff that keeps you warm, shoes, a lot of things! Oh I forgot she also loves jewelry! I hope you have a Merry X-MAS! Thank you for everything!

I love you!

(Heart), Nini

Bastard

 


He could have been a gracious winner, but instead he took the low road. 

My 10-Year-Old's Letter to Santa...

Santa,
This year can I please have........
1. Old Navy Shopping Cart saved in My Account under Fav's
2. Abercrombiekids Cart saved in Mommy's Favorites (with a heart instead of an apostrophe in "Mommy's")
3. (Crossed out) XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (I guess she changed her mind)
4. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
5. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
6. Creativity for Kids Soccer Memory Book Kit - Target
7. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (She's a little indecisive)
8. Fish - blue
9. Fish aquarium
10. Shells, plants, fish signs, things for my fish
11. Datamax - K2360 from Target
12. Limited Too Shopping Cart saved in Mommy's Favorites (Yes, another heart)
13. Nike running shoes

Love (actually another heart),
Neen (her nickname is Nini)

Dear Santa,
Thank you for all the other great gifts! You are awesome!

Love (heart),
Neen

THANK YOU 4 EVERYTHING!


......She told me she was making it easier on Santa this year by finding everything on the internet and bookmarking it. Yeah, she's that cute.

Pet Peeve #5...

...Condescending people.

I got my house!! Yahoo! My loan went through at the rate I needed. My friend Todd made it happen and it's closing on Wednesday. I'm so excited!!

So here's my pet peeve...people who try to burst my bubble by being condescending. At least 95% of the people who I've told about my house have had the same reaction. Now remember, I live in a nice town; people who live here have money. Unless you're like me, however, and usually just squeaking by. But the houses around here are outrageously priced. My ex-husband has a beautiful home which goes for about a million bucks. My mom's house, the same house I grew up in right down the street, goes for about a million bucks. My house is not like that. In fact, it's a townhome meaning it's attached on the side. So whenever someone asks me about my house, how big it is and stuff, I describe how many bedrooms, bathrooms, give them the square footage, etc. and then I say, "It's a townhome, attached on the side." I figure not to mention that would be misleading because I'm definitely not buying one of those big detached homes that are so expensive. And almost every time, they respond with, "That's Okaaaaayyyyy.......!!!!!" Yeah. I know. They say it like it's really not okay, but since I can't afford anything else, then it's...well...okay. I'm really just so stoked and a little proud that as a single mom I can even afford to buy in this area. I seriously never thought I would be able to. The fact that my home is attached does not bother me at all, I'm just so excited to have it. But that reaction makes me feel like I didn't do good enough, like I'm settling.

I wonder if I just have baggage about this for some reason, like I'm overreacting to it. Maybe. But, jeez...enough already.

Oh well, I love my little attached house! :)

Life Lesson #452.......

(If you missed the first 451, you haven't been paying attention.)

............Never, never, never, but NEVER burn your bridges.

I have this ex-boyfriend, my girls affectionately call him "the French Guy." Born and raised in Paris, out here for a few years, and yes - that romantic. We dated for a couple of years and he's an absolutely great guy. One of our biggest problems, however, was that we disagreed on the place of ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends in our lives (in my case, also an ex-husband). It drove him nuts that I'm friends with almost everyone I've ever dated. Not one or two dates, but if I spent any respectable amount of time with them, I'm still in touch with them today. And as far as my ex-husband goes...let's just say that just today, his wife and I bought Aerosmith tickets together so we could all go in February. Well, this sort of behavior drove the French Guy nuts. I attributed it to serious insecurity. My perspective is that if you care that much about a person, and invest a large amount of your life in them, how do you just cut them out of your life? Now, I'm not talking about everyone being friends right away; people get hurt and healing takes time. It took several years for my ex-husband's wife and I to become friends. But people grow, move on, heal. I feel that I have managed to end relationships with mutual respect, and the same qualities that attracted me to that person - their character, integrity, sense of humor, etc. - still exist in the friendships.
Okay.......all that to say this........I am in the process of buying a house. In fact, Escrow is supposed to close tomorrow. It's not going to. Hopefully next week, but I've hit a serious snag. Here's some background...As most of you know, I have recently gone from making no money to making a decent amount of money. So the first thing I thought was to buy a house (Okay, the first thing I did was buy a really bitchin' new car! But I digress...). This house was way out of my price range six months ago. In fact, a hut in Haiti was way out of my price range six months ago. So when my very good friend Scot (one T), who is a real estate agent, started talking to me about buying a house, I started considering that I could truly afford it - and I can. I found a house that I fell absolutely IN LOVE with. I wanted to put an offer down so who was the first person I called? YES - an ex-boyfriend named Todd. Todd and I dated for six years. Six years! From the time we were 16 until we were 22. That's not just dating - that's growing up together. We both know it. Those were some formative years. We've been friends since we were 13 years old and we both know how significant that is. When we were together, everyone including us thought we would get married someday. Our families were intertwined. When we broke up, I got married within a couple of years, but he waited until we were in our 30's and of course I was there. At his wedding, his grandparents still insisted I sit with them. Todd is married to someone who is absolutely perfect for him, but we both realize the importance and the impact that our relationship had on our lives. The only lull in our friendship was during the two years I dated the jealous French Guy, and I'm sorry I allowed his insecurity to take me out of Todd's life while his kids were being born.
Well, Todd is now the president of his own mortgage lending company, or whatever you call it. He has several branches throughout California (we always knew he'd be extremely successful), so of course I called him immediately. The conversation was really cool and I learned a lot about loans, but the most significant thing he said was, "Don't worry, Steph. I'll make sure no one makes any money off of you." Music to my ears. Really, it's the only reason I'm able to afford this house. I'm squeaking by as it is, and having to pay points or a higher interest rate would break the deal. If this thing actually goes through, I owe him big. Since I can't prove my income for more than a few months (and since a stated income loan will take the mortgage payment right out of my price range), he's calling in favors like you wouldn't believe. He's so well off he's been able to retire for years, and he's got a beautiful wife at home and two babies, yet he was at work last night until 7 PM trying to talk the president of a bank into taking my loan as is, convincing him that I'm not a risk. So I'm back in the game, when I thought it was over. I owe it all to Todd. I'm not glad he's in my life because of what he can do for me. I'm glad he's in my life because I have a friend that cares enough about me to fight for me.

P.S. The French Guy and I broke up two years ago and for the first time in his life, he's GREAT friends with an ex-girlfriend!

P.S.S. If anyone feels the urge to send out a prayer or two for my new house - it would be greatly appreciated!! :)

Skanky Halloween Bash Follow-Up...

Here is a Halloween picture that I promised. I think I finally found a better way to post pictures, so hopefully, I'll be able to post more. It isn't very clear though, is it? I'm with my friend, Reed. I'm not sure what he's supposed to be...one of Robin's Merry Men? And when did I start looking like Dolly Parton? Seriously, I think when I got that dress, the boobs came with it. Of course my daughter is furious that I didn't get the name or the autograph of the "Laguna Beach" girl who tried to pay my way into the party. I guess I lagged.

I continue to embarrass myself.

I'm 39 years old and pretty much over what other people think, which is the only reason I can write this post. As if it weren't bad enough that I'm a full blown Fanilow (remember my Vegas adventure of several months ago?), I think even I may have sunk to a new low. The other night on KCET, our version of PBS, I caught a special called The Carpenter's Remembered. I was in heaven! Seriously - pure bliss! I LOVE the Carpenter's. When I was a little girl (some would argue that I still AM a little girl) we would cruise in my mom's light blue Ford Thunderbird (see Back in the Day), and pop in the 8-Track tape of the Carpenter's Greatest Hits. My sister and I would make up our own words to "Close To You" so it didn't look like we were totally enjoying it, but we were. We loved it. To this day when we go sing karaoke, the first thing we do is check out which Carpenter's songs they have and we can seriously belt out Top of the World. Of course we think we're awesome, and we're pretty sure a recording contract is just around the corner.

So if the Fanilow tag isn't enough, the Carpenter's obsession isn't either. Immediately following that special was another stellar moment in the history of public television. Yes.....none other than John Denver: The Wildlife Concert. Does life get any better?! NOOO! Trust me - it doesn't! So I had to watch the whole thing, singing every song, reminiscing about my John Denver filled childhood days, making my teenager sit with me and listen. Gotta give her credit - she put up with it. Then I immediately got on Amazon and ordered the Carpenter's and John Denver's big collection CD's.

It's funny to me how KCET raises money with tributes to singers who died too young.
Oh well. I can't wait to get my CD's in the mail, mostly to torture my kids in the car!

So There's This Guy...

...OR A Story in the Third Person...

His name is John. He has a friend named Steph. He is a very good friend to everyone he knows, but especially to Steph. It's not always easy being Steph's friend, but John makes it look easy. He is always there for her, no matter what. He calls her for no other reason but to tell her she's special. He texts her for no other reason but to make sure she has a great day. He e-mails her weekly to tell her what a great friend she is, but Steph knows that it is John who is the great friend. They haven't always seen eye to eye. They have had heated debates over important subjects. He always thinks about it and later tells Steph thank you for showing him something he hasn't seen before. John shows Steph what unconditional love and friendship means. He not only deals with her baggage, he accepts the whole matched set. He sends her purple flowers, listens to her when she cries about her life, and prays that she'll get a good night's sleep. Steph wishes she was as good a friend to John as he is to her, but she knows she hasn't been. She tries, but she knows that his friendship is not dependent on it. He's going to love her anyway. He thinks she's funny, smart and makes her feel like she's valuable. He teaches her a lot about relationships. He is the definition of kindness, and shows her how to be a good parent, because John is the best dad that Steph knows. John does all of this from 1,000 miles away. Steph can't thank him enough.

"No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth." ~Robert Southey

Random Questions, With Even Randomer Responses...

I shamelessly stole this from Kate's site...

Name someone with the same birthday as you.
Bruce Springsteen. When I was in high school and college, I was a huge Springsteen fan - I still love his old stuff but I don't get into his new CD's as much. To this day my brother calls me every year on my birthday and leaves the same message on my voicemail..."Hey, don't forget to call Bruce today and wish him a Happy Birthday. Never mind, I'll tell him when I see him." It never gets old.

Where was your first kiss?
I was 14 and it was after a Sadie Hawkins dance. Freshman year, I asked Darren Uecker who had hair like a helmet. It was 1981 and he smooched me goodbye after the dance. He was a sophomore.

Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
Well, it depends on what you consider "seriously." Once when I was nine, my cousin Rick and I went to a construction site where they were finishing new homes and pushed a bag of wet plaster off the second story onto the first floor. At the time we just thought it was cool, but it had to have been a huge mess for the construction crew the next day. I've felt guilty about it ever since I realized that it wasn't really nice.

Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Yeah, my brother. We got in a really big fight once after a long night of drinking. I was 19 and he was dissing my boyfriend REALLY bad. So when we got home, I sort of pushed past him on my way into the house. He stopped me, pointed his finger in my face and very slowly and calmly said, "Don't EVER touch me again." I figured I had one shot. So I wound up and slapped him as hard as I could across the face and then ran like hell into the house screaming, "MOOOOOMMMM!!!!"
And one time I threw my keys at my ex-husband, aiming at his head. He ducked, but I had thrown them so hard that they stuck into the wall behind him.

Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people?
Of course. Not only the alcohol induced karoake nights where my sister and I sounded like the Chipmunks, but I was also in the Gospel choir at my church for a couple of years.

What's the first thing you notice about the preferred sex?
Their "presence." You know, how they carry themselves. And their eyes, to see if they're kind.

What is your biggest mistake?
Underestimating myself in so many ways.

Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
Not like you would think. But I do have this propensity to not eat when I'm depressed or stressed out. Most people have just the opposite - they eat or overeat under stress. The fact that I don't eat makes me wonder if I'm purposely trying to regain control, and that has got to be self-destructive.

Say something totally random about yourself.
Sometimes when I have to have an important conversation with someone, I not only go over it in my head first, but I also cover every possible outcome. I get so carried away with it sometimes that I find myself talking to myself and gesticulating in my car while I'm driving. I've looked over several times to see people looking at me like I'm crazy!

Has anyone ever said you look like a celebrity?
Yeah. When that show Hotel was out in the 80's, people said I looked like Connie Selleca. I've also been told I look like Marlo Thomas on That Girl. Of course, there's always the super model references.

Do you still watch kiddie movies or TV shows?
Yeah! I like some shows on Disney Channel that I watch with my daughter, and how about Finding Nemo?! "You are a squishy and you will be my squishy!!" :)

Did you have braces?
Yeah. And let this be a lesson to every teenager out there - WEAR YOUR RETAINER!!!
I didn't and now I have them again. Only this time they're the invisible ones that come off. I only wear them when I sleep. But I can't believe how great they're working!

Are you comfortable with your height?
Yeah I am. I'm only 5'1" and although I'm shorter than literally everyone I know, I've always liked being small. If I had to be a different height, I would be like 5'10". That's cool.

What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
Well, the way my ex-husband proposed was pretty cool. But once on my birthday, someone made such a big deal out of it and even took me to a ballet when he would have rather had a tooth drilled than sat through that. And the whole night was cool like that.

When do you know it's love?
When you realize that the other person's baggage is not a deal breaker, when you run to the front door every time that person walks in, when you see the future and they're in it.

Do you speak any other languages?
I thought I spoke passable Spanish, but the other day at work I tried to interview a customer in Spanish and I ended up asking her how much money she makes per table instead of per month.
If I'm in France, I can ask where the bathroom is.

Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Yeah, you know in the 80's when that was big, but not recently.

What magazines do you read?
I love O. I also like the gossipy ones like People. I get Gourmet every month and rip out the good recipes before I toss them.

Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Lots of times.

Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Yes. Both of my grandmas. They were both so awesome.
But the one that hit me the hardest was my friend Cindy. She was only a couple of years older then me and passed away about a year ago, quite unexpectedly. She impacted my life when I really needed her and losing her was devastating.

Do you watch MTV?
No, only when my daughter has it on, but I usually end up making fun of it.

What's something that really annoys you?
People who take their bad moods out on others. I don't get it, I don't do it and I have no patience for it.

What's something you really like?
Jacuzzi's! Looking at stars while I'm in a jacuzzi. Looking at stars and hearing the wind blow through trees while I'm in a jacuzzi.

Can you dance?
Kind of......I'm really good at faking it, like Big Band stuff. I can fake my way through any Jitterbug and stuff like that. I can dance well if I like the music, but if I don't, you can tell I'm faking it.

What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
Until 8:30 AM after gambling all night in Vegas with a very young man that I met that night.

Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
Yes. October 23, 1999. I was in a 280Z, passenger side, and got hit on my side with a Dodge Ram truck that ran a red light and hit me broadside. After 150 feet of locked braked skidmarks, the truck hit me at 60 MPH. Should have died, but God had other plans. I'm so glad.

Skanky Halloween Bash

When did dressing up for Halloween become a hooch contest? I went to a Halloween party last night and I couldn't believe the costumes that literally all the girls were wearing. Every conceivable costume, from bumblebees to convicts, to Dorothy and Toto, all of them a sleazed out version aimed at showing as much ass and cleavage as possible. I don't think I'm a prude, but I was embarrassed for them.

I got invited to what I thought was going to be a cool party. It was Paul Frank's party (the designer) and I thought it would be somewhat upscale. I needed a pass to get in and I had to wait outside for my friend for a few minutes because I met him there. I should have known which way the night was headed when I heard a security guy get on a walkie-talkie and say, "Attention! We need a table upstairs ASAP for the cast of Laguna Beach!" Oh brother. Actually, one of them was quite nice. A young girl on the show who saw me waiting for a very long time outside struck up a conversation with me about my costume and then kept insisting to the door guy that he let me in with them because I was freezing. It was very sweet and she seemed genuinely concerned about the fact that I was standing in the cold.

I have a very good friend named John who has a long and funny last name (sorry John!) who I always make fun of for it, and I bet him that I could drop his name and get someone to agree that they knew who he was. He lives in Washington and as far as I know has never been on television, but I knew the power of suggestion can be stronger than any truth. At some point in the night, the band announced, "And we have the cast of Laguna Beach here tonight!" The crowd went wild (yes, they were all that young) and I turned to the girl next to me and said, "OH, I know someone who was on that show last season!" (Did they even HAVE a last season?) And she of course asked who? So I said, "John Vanderkjlkghawhb." And she said "Who?!" And I said, "YOU KNOWWWWW...the guy who went out with that girl for awhile before she dumped him for the other guy. He lived in that big house with the ocean view and his parents sent him somewhere really cool for graduation." And she said, "Oh Yeaaahhhh." Yes! Score!

Overall, the night was a disappointment. And on a school night, too. Oh well. My costume was awesome, though! Alright, three guesses......Prom dress, a tiara and lots of blood. Guess who? Ha! It was great. I only had a disposable camera, but I'll post a picture or two when I get them developed.

My Baby Girl

For those who don't know me...my daughter just started high school. She's 14, a freshman, and pretty. I knew before she ever started that I was screwed. Not only a freshman, but a pretty one, and a volleyball player. Who doesn't like the cute volleyball girls? Her Homecoming dance is coming up this weekend and by last week, five (FIVE!!) boys had already asked her. She finally said yes to the fifth one. One was a junior. I pretty much told her that she would go to the dance with a junior over my cold dead body. She understood. So after being asked to Homecoming by five different boys (did I mention one was a sleazy junior bastard who has no business even looking at my daughter?), she got her braces off on Friday. You know how you can picture how someone will look without them and you know they'll look better? Well, I had no idea. She doesn't just look better - she looks exponentially better. Out of control better. Okay...I know I'm her mom. I know I'm not objective, but TRUST ME!!! Anyone who has seen her (with or without braces) will tell you how beautiful she is. I AM SCREWED!!! So some kid named Jared is the lucky little guy. He called the other night and has terrible phone manners, and I am a stickler about phone manners in teenagers. Poor kid has no idea how I plan on re-training him if he hopes to spend one minute with my daughter. I've done it before, I can do it again. The last kid that liked my daughter now says the following when he calls my house..."Hi, Stephanie! This is Alex. How are you?" I say fine, talk to him for a minute and then he asks if Livy is available. They have stayed great friends, so we laugh about it now, but I literally trained him in speaking to parents, and told him how it would serve him well when he was older. His parents thanked me. If I can train him, I can train an impressionable little guy like Jared.
So of course, they're doing the overpriced limo thing with a bunch of kids. And of course, I will be at whoever's house the limo is picking them up at, biting my tongue when the kid looks at my daughter like she's dessert, and testing for a firm handshake. I know, I know...I'm a psycho mom. But she's my baby. I think she was just in diapers like last week. When did this happen? When did she grow into this beautiful, self-assured, kind hearted and confident young girl? Not to mention so charming. Oh, damn. I know I'm going to cry on Saturday night. But don't worry, I'll wait until they drive away.

My Morning...and 60 Seconds of Sleaze

You know Ryan Seacrest, of American Idol fame? Also the subject of my overused "Who told THAT guy he has talent?" line. He does a morning show on the radio out here, as if he's not annoying enough on TV. I don't listen to the station, but my 14 year old daughter has it set as a preset station for when she's in my car (although I'm pretty sure that when she has her own car in a year and a half, my choosing her presets will not be an option). Anyway, because the music on all of my other presets happened to suck at the moment, I pushed her little preset button in time to hear a breathy female voice say, "60 Seconds of Sleaze when we return." I rolled my eyes and was about to change it again when I thought it might be a good idea to listen to the 60 Seconds of Sleaze that my 14 year old is apparently exposed to. So when they came back on, I found that Ryan was reporting live from Pico Rivera (not one of your nicer L.A. neighborhoods) and interviewing people live on the air. As one would expect in Pico Rivera (a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood), most of the people in the audience were Hispanic with pretty heavy accents. So he introduced each one, BUTCHERED their names to the point of embarrassment (at least for me), and then when he answered them, he actually took on an accent himself! What an idiot. He spent a full minute making an ass out of himself with this fake accent, probably not even realizing that it's really not okay. THAT was the 60 Seconds of Sleaze?
60 Seconds of Stupidity.

So here's the best part of my morning...I'm just bummed that I didn't have my camera! I was on my way to work and I passed a Budget rent-a-truck. On the side panel was a picture of two stick figures, one bending over in front of the other. The one standing upright was wrapping packing tape around the other one's neck and head, so his upper half looked like a mummy. The writing above the picture said, "Packing Tip #48: Packing tape should not be used for mean and dangerous pranks." HA!

Bummer.

I am 11% White Trash.

I, my friend, have class. I am so not white trash. . I am more than likely Democrat, and my place is neat, and there is a good chance I may never drink wine from a box.

Take the
White Trash Test
@ FualiDotCom

I'm a little bummed about this, not to mention a little surprised. I DO live in southern Orange County, have a productive job, I have all of my teeth and no broken down cars on my lawn...but my Grammie was a career cocktail waitress who finally retired from the bowling alley at 69. Seriously. I thought having that in my bloodline would make me at least 20% white trash. Now what's my excuse for the white trash tailgate parties before old '80's bands?

Damn...Now I'll never win the lottery.

What a boring day........

Sometimes being single can suck. All my friends are married and hanging out with their husbands today and I had no one to hang out with. I sound like such a whiner, huh? But I just got this big fat paycheck on Friday and I wanted to spend some of it. My kids went to their dad's house yesterday and won't be home until Monday morning. So after running around the house doing the happy dance for about five minutes over having the house all to myself, I had a friend over for the Notre Dame game and a BBQ and that was fun. Then I woke up this morning all ready to go shopping and drop some cash, but the mall is just not so much fun by myself. I did get some killer perfume, though, and I have a feeling that at least one person a day will tell me how great I smell.
Usually I love having time to myself and am quite productive. Today I'm just bored.
I asked myself what I usually do when I'm alone that I have a lot of fun doing. So I'm gonna go put on an Andrea Bocelli CD, bake Parmesan bread and pretend I'm Italian.

Spyware and Purple Mountain's Majesty...

I have a spyware problem that is so bad, my computer has become a paperweight. It's completely useless. I get pop-ups that I can't even keep up with, my virus control and firewall have completely given up, and I even now get ads that appear as icons on my desktop. I think if I continue to try to use it, it will somehow use it's power to take over my corner of the world. I can still log on at work, but I have no time to post or read everyone else's, which is a drag. But I'll try to do what I can.

My daughters started school a couple of weeks ago. My younger one is in 5th grade and still needs crayons for school. So as I'm helping her get her stuff together the night before the first day of school, I look down at the box of Crayolas and had to stop and check it out. When I was a kid, we had crayons that were pretty generically named...you know, like Carnation Pink, Green Yellow, Blue Violet. Very literal. The only exotically named crayon was something like Burnt Sienna, because who really knew what color THAT was? But now they're really cool! I saw colors like Granny Smith Apple (which I swear they got from the martini!), Macaroni and Cheese (!), Wisteria, Mauvelous, and my personal favorite...Purple Mountain's Majesty. I love that one. I don't know what else there was because my daughter finally told me to back away from the crayons and nobody gets hurt. I got a little carried away.

My friend John who lives in Washington state sent me a cookbook for my birthday (along with some beautiful purple flowers) and it's called A Savory Sampler from Washington's Skagit Valley. It reminded me of the crayons. There are recipes in it like Sea Pigs, Wild Chanterelle Mushroom Timbale Black Swan (huh? If I have to go kill a swan, I'm out.), Abalone Beachballs, Angels on Horseback by the Water, and my personal favorite...Kan Ikke La Vaere. I haven't had that in awhile.
John says that all three women he knows swear by this cookbook. Actually, I'm looking forward to trying a few...especially the Keftethes.

By the way, I had a birthday...the big 3-9. I might as well be 40.

Hope is doing well, even though her new nickname is Hopeless (could someone have WARNED me that potty training a cocker spaniel is slightly harder than getting a Presidential pardon?

Other than that, things are good. Work is good, friends are good. Getting ready for another trip to the Big Apple in a couple of weeks (my dork older brother eloped and wants to have a reception in two weeks - nothing like time to plan!).

I just realized my computer was down when I took my trip to Chicago for Jimmy Buffet at Wrigley Field. I will definitely have to write about that later! Maybe even post a picture or two!!

Ow...Ow...OOWWWWWWW!!!!!!!

I just got back from taking my girls ice blocking. That's where you take a big block of ice, find the steepest grassy hill you can, and slide! A California version of sledding.

I'm now in pain.

Why do I think I'm 16 years old and my body can take this stuff? Ow.

I have to admit it was a blast. We ended up with 7 kids and 4 adults. Four of the kids tried building an ice blocking train where they all hooked onto the person's legs in front of them, lining up their blocks of ice and letting go. That caused some injuries, but none that landed them in the emergency room. That's always a bonus. I'm always amazed at the fact that other parents still seem to trust me with their children. Personally, I wiped out so many times I lost count.

We took little Hope with us and of course she had a blast chasing us down the hill, as though she might actually catch us! Such a cutie. And then there's me, thinking my body is made of steel, whizzing down the hill, as though wiping out at the bottom won't hurt for the next three days. Ow.

Oh, this part was cool...I've been ice blocking since high school, even on the same hill. It's simply called The Ice Blocking Hill, and everyone in this town knows about it. The first time I went was in 1982. It was in high school right after my first, no second, Go-Go's concert. It was their Vacation tour. Of course I got a T-shirt from the concert which showed all the Go-Go's water skiing on the front, and the back said, "Don't bother me - I'm on Vacation!" I STILL HAVE IT!! Yes - it's been my official ice blocking shirt ever since then, and I pulled it out for the big event tonight! Vintage Go-Go's. Love it. I wore it proudly.

Well, I gotta go to bed. I'm so sore but even too tired for a bath. Of course my girls aren't even home yet, because the ice blocking apparently didn't tire them out enough and now they need to go toilet paper someone's house. I'm cool with that as long as they show up in the morning to help clean up.

By the way, everyone who told me to crate train Hope - Thank You!! When I finally listened and started crating her for the night, she and I have slept so much better!!

A Little Hope...

Awwwwwwwww.......... 

Yup...here's the newest member of our little family. Her name is Hope.
I broke down, gave in, caved in...whatever you want to call it - I am a sucker!
My girls have been begging for a dog for years and I've managed to dodge this bullet for as long as possible. I swear raising a puppy is harder than raising a child and I've tried to explain that to my kids. But then we were in the pet store the other night and saw this little cutie and even I couldn't resist. I did pretty well when they told me that the dog was $750! For a dog? She doesn't even have papers (not that I need those, but for $750 bucks, you'd think they would at least keep up the pretense of her being valuable). I'm all about saving the dog from the pound - that's where we got our cat. But I sure fell in love with this little girl! I talked them down to $600 and then got my ex-husband to pay for it (he's a bigger sucker than me! ;) He started out by saying he would give me $400 towards the dog and then he saw the teary look in my daughter's eyes when she thought she couldn't get it. She gave us the speech about how of course she'll pick up after it, take it for walks, bathe it, feed it twice a day, train it to drive her to school...all the things a parent wants to hear. Her dad fell for it hard - she is such a daddy's girl! He finally said, "Okay, just go get the dog, and just try to get me a good deal on it!" She started to cry again, and when I asked her why she was crying, she said, "Because I'm so happy!" Awww...!! Then I look at her dad and his eyes were all teary, and I thought - SUCKER!!!

She sure is a cute little thing, but now I'm in for long nights, early mornings and chewed up stuff all over the house. I never realized how much stuff I leave laying around until I got her, and it's only been one day!

By the way, I don't know the first thing about training a dog, so I could use any advice anyone chooses to give. She's managed not to have any accidents in the house (we take her out like every five minutes!), but I know they're coming.

I'll keep you posted on little Hope's progress!

Hmmmmmm....

I heard a great story once along the lines of Indecent Proposal...A man offers a woman a million dollars to sleep with him and she says, "Sure!" thinking what she could do with a million bucks.
Well, they go back to her place, and when they're done, he throws a five dollar bill on the nightstand. She yells, "Five bucks?! I'm not a whore!" And he replies, "I think we've already established that you are."

I think you could apply that story to so many situations in life - our willingness to compromise for the right price. My ex-husband lives about 45 minutes away and one Friday night he was supposed to drive to my house to pick up the girls for the weekend. He did not want to fight traffic and asked me to drive them out instead. I had plans that night and since his house is down the same highway that leads to the mountains, Vegas, the river, basically everywhere a southern Californian may want to escape for the weekend, there was no way I was going to engage in a three hour round trip as a favor to him. Finally he said, "I will give you $500 if you drive the girls out here right now."..................DONE!!! Does that make me a driving whore? I don't care - I got five hundred bucks!! :)

In my new job I call on car dealers, specifically finance managers. I spent the entire day in the field yesterday visiting dealers who haven't sent us any business in the last few months, and trust me, I knew what I was doing. One dealer has only sent us one deal (worth about $9000) in the last several months because he hates our program and thinks we're too tight. I walked out of there with $100,000 worth of contracts (and a Mango-A-Go-Go Jamba Juice), and I know it was directly proportional to the length of my skirt - trust me, our program hasn't changed. At another dealer I got several contracts, lunch, and my car washed. How funny is that? When I go out in the field, I'm usually out until 7 or 8 at night, yet I know it's not my hard work or diligence that's earning me these contracts. It's the skirt. It's the ability to sit there and pretend to be flattered and laugh at their jokes. Again - I don't even care! I got a sweet bonus last month and if things keep going well, I'll get an even sweeter one this month.

Today is our company golf tournament and we invited our favorite dealers. There are so many that I think would be really fun to hang out with and we were sure to invite all of them. So my partner and I get a chance to spoil them with our self-stocked beer cart, and we get to see them in a more social environment. I'm really looking forward to it. I was planning on taking about a case of beer and maybe the makings of my killer apple martinis, but my boss just called to tell me that someone else is taking four cases of beer for her dealers? FOUR? I only invited eight people and I'm pretty sure two of them don't drink. This should be good....hopefully I'll have some great stories tomorrow....and the time to actually write about them!

Blogging Brilliance 6.28.05

First I have to say that thanks to Marie, I now have "It's a Sunshine Day", from the Brady Bunch stuck in my head. It's been playing on my computer (thank God it's looped!) for the last twenty minutes. I'm pathetic.

Since I'm still feeling pretty brain dead (see previous statement), I'm trying to make this easy on myself and just answer a question for this post...

What would I be willing to die for?

For me, that's pretty easy...my family. But I would also be willing to die for my beliefs. I wish I could say that I would be willing to die for my friends, but having two little girls to take care of, can I really make that statement?
Why my beliefs and not my friends? I'm not even sure I can articulate this, but mainly because part of my beliefs is a lesson to my girls that you have to choose what it is that you're made of. I can't stand apathy. Can't stand people who have no opinions, feelings, passions. Why bother?

I worked for about 120 hours today and again, I'm fried, so I'm probably making no sense, but I want to hear what you guys have to say, too...

What would you be willing to die for?

I'm brain dead...But tonight is lookin' good!!

Holy crap, I'm fried. I started my new job and fell off the face of the earth. I cannot believe how this new job is consuming my life. Jen, how do you do it? I've never had to work to make sales goals before. I've always had jobs that were goal-oriented, but my paycheck has never depended on it. Now that it does, I have become a machine. Being a capitalist pig is no easy gig (if this doesn't work out, I could always go into writing Dr. Seuss books, I guess).

All I know is tonight I'm taking a break!! I'm going to see one of my all time favorite bands - JOURNEY!!! I can't wait. I'm pulling out the old CD's and packing up the tailgating supplies, because what is a Journey concert without the white trash tailgate? They don't have Steve Perry with them but from what I hear, the new guy sounds just like him.

This brings back a funny memory from when I was 16. My older sister hasn't always been so conservative - she was actually a wild woman in high school and she took me to a Journey concert at the Rose Bowl one summer, you know the kind that goes on all day with festival seating? I think Blue Oyster Cult was actually there. :) Anyway, we were separated at one point and I was walking around on the lawn looking for her and there was a group of people throwing girls up on a trampoline made out of a blanket. Remember those? So I walk by and one of them spots me. I was even smaller in high school (as my friend Scott puts it, probably 90 pounds soaking wet with change in my pocket), and I guess after throwing much heavier girls in the air all day, I looked like a nice break, so one of them yells, "Grab THAT girl!" Next thing I know they're throwing me in the middle of the blanket and heaving me 25 feet up into the air, at the same time barking orders at me about the safest way to land. It was a riot. Isn't it funny how when we're young, things like broken necks or even a broken leg never cross our minds? All I knew was I was flyin' and loving it!! Good times. Hard to believe that was 22 years ago! God, I'm old. You know part of me is secretly hoping someone spots me and says, "Hey! Isn't that the chick from the blanket at the Rose Bowl?" :) I'll proudly acknowledge that, yes, it's me...

I hope every one else is having a great weekend!

Movin' on up.

Tonight marked a significant ending for me.

As I have mentioned before in my blog, I was previously a minister. My degree is in ministry and up until about two years ago, it was also my "profession." My first job in ministry was as a youth minister and although my attendance at church is pretty meager these days, I still volunteer in the Jr. High Ministry of my church. If you know me well, you know the problems I have with the American church today. But foundationally, my faith is strong and my heart is pulled towards teenagers - their struggles, their growth, their lovable spirits.

As a youth minister, I was involved in a ministry of 900 Jr. High students - it was huge! Along with weekend services, we also placed those who were interested into small groups that meet in an adult leader's home every week. So for the last two years, I've had the same 11 girls meet in my home every Tuesday night. One of these girls is my own 14 year old daughter. My co-leader for this group is an amazing 19 year old girl named Sara, who was in my group when she was 12 years old. I am blessed that she has chosen to remain in my life all of these years, and I know she always will be. Over the years, I've had several of these groups, each lasting their two years of Jr. High, but none that has affected me quite like this one.


This month they are all "graduating" from 8th grade, moving into high school, and onto a new small group leader next year. I was not prepared for the overwhelming sadness that I would feel in letting these girls go. We've grown to love each other incredibly. To trust each other implicitly, because everything said in the confines of our group is treated as sacred. We came from all walks of life, some were popular, some were nerds, some were jocks. When we all came together, most of the girls had nothing in common. But as time went on, they became the friendly face to each other at school, supporting each other outside of our group. Their differences melted away. We had slumber parties together, water fights, pillow fights, we all cried over one of us being hurt, we went to summer camp together, we fed the homeless together, adopted disabled children for Christmas, and grew up together in the two years we had. We have a national champion synchronized swimmer, a Student of the Year, and one of them even survived two brain surgeries in the last year. We went to each other's basketball games, music recitals, awards banquets, and no one in our group ever felt like she was going through anything alone.

It was supposed to be a Bible study every week, but I can count on one hand how many of those we actually accomplished this year. I felt pretty strongly that I needed to prepare them for high school in ways that they wouldn't learn in church. Not just how to make good choices, but how to grow into the young women they were capable of being. How to dream big and realize those dreams. How to maintain their confidence in a world that is not always kind. I tried to show them how awesome they are and build up their self-esteem, because that's what will keep them from making unhealthy choices in the future. I loved them unconditionally, and they returned that love exponentially. One gave me a card that said, "Over the last two years, I have become a stronger person. I can honestly say that's because of you. You have taught us to stand up for what we believe in."
Wow. I am humbled.

Tonight, our last night, I had them each write their own obituary. At first they thought it was creepy until they realized the possibilities! They had to live to a minimum of 90 years old, and write it in the third person, telling about their life, loves, accomplishments, etc. How would they want to be remembered when they leave this earth? They worked very hard on them, and believe me, it's not easy to get that many screaming teenagers quiet for very long, but this did it. Afterward, I asked if I could read one or two of them, and every single girl wanted me to read hers. I had a few stay at home moms, several teachers, a physical therapist, an airforce pilot, a missionary and a Nobel Peace Prize Winner. One even named her daughter Steph. Most importantly, they realized that their possibilities are only limited by their dreams, and they are dreaming big!

I don't know what to do with the incredible sadness and loss that I feel tonight over letting these girls go. I can only be thankful that their futures are bright.

I do know that when I go to bed tonight, I will thank God for the opportunity to have played some small part in these incredible girls' lives, and consider it a privilege to know every one of them.

Steph Got PROMOTED!!!

...and it's about frickin' time!!

Today it became official...a promotion I've been waiting a very long time for finally came through. I've been working for this company for almost two years, making less than shit (really, when I open my paychecks, there's no dollar amount, it just says "shit"), waiting for an opportunity such as this, and I finally got it. I seriously would not have hung this long with the company if I didn't think it would pay off someday and now it finally will!!

My favorite comment of congratulations came from my stepmom, Kate. I come from a long line of highly successful, self-employed over-achievers, and I've just never been one. I was a nurse, a minister, etc...all feel-good jobs where money was just not important. When I called Kate with the good news, she told me how happy and proud she was, and then said, "You know...in our family, we're all such capitalist pigs, but we felt okay about that because we thought we just needed one do-gooder in the bunch and that was you. Now you're a capitalist pig like us - a capitalist piglet! (since I'm the youngest)" Yup - that's me! :)

Yeah for Steph!!

A Story That Should Definitely Stay in Vegas...

...but if I had any judgment in the first place, it probably never would have happened.

No short way to tell this story, so grab some popcorn.

I have to preface this story by first telling you a bit about my older sister, Jennifer. We are very, very close. We don't make any moves without first consulting the other, parenting, career-wise, etc. We talk almost every day, even though we live 400 miles apart. However, and this is a very big HOWEVER, we could not be more different. She is ultra-conservative (no, don't worry, not an I-voted-for-Bush conservative), but in her dress, in her manner, in her idea of fun. Very unlike my brother and I. It's amazing that we were all raised in the same household. She's very serious, I'm just not. Over the years, she hasn't always identified with, or approved of, all of my behavior to say the least. You can tell how different we are by first sight...I get called the MILF in my neighborhood (and find that sickly flattering); she would find that utterly offensive. I have really long dark brown hair, and am a total girly girl. She's got short blonde hair, no make-up (she's lucky enough to not need it), glasses, shops at L.L. Bean. Okay, so now you know...

I have a friend in Vegas named Michael who I decided to have breakfast with on that Saturday morning. We went to the new Wynn Hotel to check it out. I had been up very late the night before and had a Bloody Mary with breakfast. We then decided to check out the pool, thinking as a brand new hotel, it would be very cool. It was lame, but there was a bar, so by 10:30 AM we're throwing back martini's. Hey, it's Vegas.
Well, on the other side of the bar, there's another pool, this one with a sign that says, "European Style Bathing." I know what they were hoping for, but if it was anything like the European Style Bathing that I saw while I was in Europe, the only ones getting naked were a bunch of saggy old men. There were quite a few people at the pool already, but none of them actually topless, just a few men hoping to see topless women.

So fast-forward an hour or so, a couple drinks later...Michael bribes one of the pool guys to get us a couple of chairs and some towels even though we can't produce a room key, and we get set up under a tree in the back. By now, a few women are sunbathing topless, and a whole lot of men are enjoying the scenery. It's really hot and I'm in jeans, high heeled sandals and a silk-lined tank top. I'm hot. It's already 95 degrees out. My four drinks tell me there's nothing wrong with taking off my jeans and sunbathing in my underwear and tank top. I figured you can't tell the difference between my underwear and a bathing suit anyway (if you're into white thong bathing suits), so off they come. Of course Michael, being the guy that he is says, "SURE!! Why not? Get comfortable!" So we lay there soaking up some rays for a few minutes when I realize that I'm sweating under my silk tank top. Get ready...this is the part that lands me in the God Fearing Mother of Two Hall of Shame...I decide it's a great idea to take off the tank top, too. By now plenty of women are topless around the pool (okay...a couple), and hey, I'm in the back where there's very little foot traffic. Off goes the tank top.

Around noon my sister calls because her flight had just landed. I told her we were at the Wynn hotel pool and to go to our hotel, grab my bathing suit and join us. I told her to call when she was outside the pool area and we would slip the pool kid more cash to let them in. Of course I didn't tell her I was naked, because that would have caused a huge rift between us - she would not dig it to say the least (as well as very different than me, did I also mention that she's a very protective older sister?).

Back to the pool...I still managed to stay low key for awhile until Michael wanted to go in the pool. Of course, I resisted for awhile, remembering the WHITE underwear, but he talked me into walking to the pool with a towel wrapped around me, just dropping it long enough to get under water. While standing by the side of the pool I met two women who were also thinking of stripping down and getting in, so of course I talked them into it so as to have a couple partners in crime. I stayed in the water up to my neck, but they just did not care. They were all over the place, which was nice because it made me feel like the attention was on them and not me. After awhile, we get out of the pool. He got out first and held out my towel and my drunken state convinced me that no one saw anything. I knew I had to dry off in time for my sister to arrive and put my suit on when she got there.

A few minutes later, I'm feeling a little parched. Must be a Vegas phenomenon...the thirst that even a bloody mary, an apple martini and three beers before noon can't quench. We were wondering what happened to our cocktail waitress and after that much alcohol, getting pretty damn indignant, too! We needed more drinks! I told Michael to go, he told me to go, I said no, and he said, "I KNEW you wouldn't go up to the bar like that. I dare you." WHAT?! Did someone just dare me to do something that is totally within my realm of possibility (which only means won't hurt my children or myself - anything else is fair game)? That same bloody mary, apple martini, and three beers were screaming "HEY! There is NO shame in MY game!!!" I grabbed a towel to cover up the front of my still wet underwear, flipped my hair over my shoulder with a backwards 'I'm too stinkin' hot' look at Michael and I was off! Through the cluster of chairs, around the pool, and through the bar. I was just about to give my order to the bartender when what do I hear behind me, but a very loud and infuriated voice say, "What the F&#@ are you doing?!"

My sister.

Guess she made it in on her own.

All she sees is my back covered with long, dark, wet hair and my bare ass hanging out for everyone to see. So I turn around (which is no better when you're naked and trying to hide it) to speak to her. I begin to explain about the dare and blah, blah, blah...none of it made sense, no one cared, particularly her. So I decided to take another tack and order us some drinks, hoping that would put her in a better mood. I turn to the bartender and give him our order and he says, "I'm sorry miss, I can't serve you unless you put more on." WHAT?!!!!!! This whole European Style Bathing thing was THEIR STINKIN' IDEA!! So if I wasn't feeling like enough of a ho in front of my sister, that pretty much clinched it. Our other friends who had arrived with her eventually approached when they saw that she wasn't going to chastise me further and we all ordered drinks - after I wrapped the towel around me, of course.

Eventually Michael came to find me. Last he knew, he sent me to the bar 15 minutes earlier, naked. Kind of an awkward introduction to say the least, "Uh...Jen, this is Michael...Michael, this is Jen." Her knowing that he's the one who put her baby sister up to this. Yeah.

Good Times.

Yeah, I'm bragging...so what?

Check out the two babes on the left!! 

If these were your kids, you'd brag too.

I just came across this picture on my digital camera.

Mother's Day 2005 and I'm with the two cutest, sweetest little girls who have ever lived.

The older one on the left...she's already got the super-model shoulder lean down. That is so her.
And the one on the right...crooked sunglasses - that is so her.

My pride and joy...

God help me.

Young Travis voted for Bush (believe me, I asked).

Does this mean that I get community service credit for the evening I spent with him?

Robbing the Cradle. Again.

I have to admit, I have a thing for younger men. I haven't always, but the older I get...well, you know. I know it sounds a little gross, but it's not intentional. I just happen to meet more younger men than men my age. In fact, in my entire life, I have only dated one man who was older than me. My ex-husband was my age and literally everyone else has been younger. At first, the age difference was just like two or three years, but then it became more like five, and awhile ago, six.
Now, in my defense, I really don't look my age (and I've been told I don't act it, either), so I tend to attract men who think I'm closer to their age, sometimes with hysterical results. Often times, I'll be out with friends and meet someone considerably younger than me. When the conversation gets around to them asking for my phone number, or whether or not I'm seeing someone, I'll always jump in and tell them up front how old I am and that I have two kids (one who is actually 14 years old!). Men have been known to scurry like mice when I tell them I'm 38 years old! My friends and I have gotten some good laughs out of it on more than one occassion!

When I was in Vegas recently, I ended up sitting at a blackjack table for several hours with this very cute young man named Travis (that's your first clue right there - no one born before 1974 is named Travis). I didn't start gambling until 1 AM and we were sitting at the same table for so long that we eventually made it our new goal to gamble until the sun came up. And since you can walk around Vegas with alcohol, he said, "When the sun comes up, we'll go outside and toast the new day!" How cute is that? So at 6:30 AM we went outside and walked around Vegas with the streets clean and empty and prettier than usual. Now Travis is not a bit deterred by the fact that I'm a hundred years older than him (He's 30. JUST turned 30 in March!). In fact, he's driving up from San Diego tonight to take me to dinner. I almost cancelled, thinking that since we obviously have very little in common, why waste our time? But I'm going. I figure if he's nice enough to call me every day for a week and a half, and drive an hour to see me, it's the least I can do.

I'll keep you posted. And I'll try not to lean over and cut his meat.

Thank God It's Monday?

Never thought I'd hear myself say that, but I am so looking forward to this weekend being over. This was one for the books. So allow me to bitch and moan for a minute about my weekend...

I have two active little girls - club level athletes, which means my life is not my own. This weekend, they both had tournaments. I'm a single mom and their dad doesn't help with the sports end of things, so I'm on my own. Friday night, my friend Chera invited me over for a BBQ (where she made "beer-butt" chicken - some of the best I've ever had!! Let me know if you want the recipe!), and I gladly accepted because I knew I was in for a tiring weekend.

Saturday rolls around and I have to be at the soccer field at 6:45 AM. Not my daughter, just me. Parents had to volunteer for the tournament since we were hosting it, and I got stuck with the first shift. So, at 9:00 AM, I head back home, wake up the girls, back to the soccer field for game #1. There's another game at 4:45, but I have to take my other daughter, the volleyball player, to Anaheim (45 minutes away) for her Regionals by 2:00 PM. Back home for the second soccer game, then back to Anaheim for the second VB game, ending at 10 PM. The tournament continued today, and depending on how they did, they could play anywhere from our home gym (5 minutes away) to La Verne (1 1/2 hours away) and either way, they had to be there by 7 AM this morning. We got stuck in Torrance (1 hour away). So last night, home to bed and up at 5:30. Thanks to my little girls angel of a soccer coach, I didn't have to worry about her after her second game on Sat. because she went home with her family and back to the fields Sunday morning. Have I lost anyone yet?...

Sunday...I get woken up at 2:00 AM by one of my closest friends who is at a party and has had quite a bit to drink (yes, the Midnight Phone Call strikes again). He was at a friends birthday party and was waiting for a car service to pick him and take him home since he had been drinking. I guess he just wanted to talk. He had a fight with his girlfriend earlier that night, so she didn't go. He asked if he could call me back in a half hour. I guess the car service wasn't showing up and he was going to call and track it down. He calls an hour and a half later, casually asks me how my day was and when I ask about his night, he tells me that he just crashed his truck, after falling asleep at the wheel. He got tired of waiting for the car service, was mad at his girlfriend, decided 'screw it - I'm driving myself home' and now crashed his truck! This is someone that I care about so much and of course, I stressed about it for the rest of the night (morning!). He said he was at a rest area, his truck was on the side of the offramp leading to the rest area and he was just hoping that none of the three state troopers in the area put two and two together. Then all of a sudden, he said he had to go and I didn't hear from him again. Nice. (I texted him today saying, "Let me know you're not in jail," and his response was, "Funny you should ask..." That's never good.)

So we get to Torrance by 7 AM. Being an hour away, there's no chance of me making either of my other daughter's two soccer games, so I'm calling my friends to try to get someone to go watch her play, cheer her on and possibly take her home afterward. At one point during the game, my little girl (even though she kicks ass on a soccer field, she's soooo little) takes a hit so hard, she goes down flat. I guess they had to stop the game and the hit to her head was so hard, she couldn't see for a minute. This is my baby and I wasn't there! Luckily, her coach was there and handled it. I also missed her score two goals and make a killer slide tackle!

My older daughter's volleyball tournament goes well, but during the last match (six hours later), she goes for a hit that someone else goes for, they collide, and we end up in the Emergency Room. Yeah. She's going to Reno in three weeks, to Nationals, and this could have messed that up for her. Luckily she only sprained her hand, which means sitting out of practice for a week or so.

A huge part of me insists that I add...does this make me a 'soccer mom?' Even though I drive a little convertible and not the requisite mini-van or SUV? Please say no. When did I get this old?

Let's recap...Two hours of volunteering at the crack of dawn, four soccer games, eighteen volleyball games, six hours of driving, five hours of sleep (all weekend), one friend who is potentially in the pokey, one trip to the ER, and the biggest guilt trip a mom can have for not being there when my baby got slammed.

So, yeah, this is only the rantings of a single mom who is feeling a little overworked and underpaid at the moment. But I knew what I signed up for, and I wouldn't change it. My little girl's team took third in her tournament, and my older girl's team took second. I'm really tired, but you know what? My girls kick so much ass! :)

Farewell, Shmarewell...

I'm sitting here watching the Eagles Farewell I Tour. Seems like ten years ago, I paid $250 per ticket to their Hell Freezes Over Comeback Tour. Wouldn't that have been preceded by Farewell I? I don't know. Don Henley said tonight that he can't believe that people don't see that as tongue in cheek humor. I don't even care, I am just so diggin' sitting here listening to the Eagles singing Deperado live. Take It To The Limit was pretty cool, too. They're playing all of the old favorites.

But holy crap - what happened to Joe Walsh? That guy has hit some hard times.

Blogging Brilliance 6.1.05

Okay, here's the next thing I would love to hear everyone's opinion on...
the mother in Tennessee who hired a stripper for her son's 16th birthday party.

(The full text is below if you haven't read this one yet...)

DO YOU THINK THIS MOTHER SHOULD BE PUNISHED FOR HIRING A STRIPPER FOR HER MINOR SON?

What do I think? I actually think she should. I think when you're that age, it's your parent's job to protect you from growing up too fast and experiencing those kinds of things. I realize when kids reach a certain age, their decisions are their own. As a parent, you can only hope that you've taught them to make the right ones. But to actually push them down the road of what was probably pretty trashy, I just don't think that's okay. If I were the parent of one of the other boys, I would be pretty pissed that she made that assumption for my child.

On another note, maybe we should just arrest her for stupidity...taking the pictures to be developed at the drug store? What did she think was going to happen?

What do you guys think? Also, did anyone have a mother like that?


NASHVILLE, Tenn. - A mother faces criminal charges after she hired a stripper to dance at her 16-year-old son’s birthday party.

Anette Pharris, 34, has been indicted by a grand jury on charges of contributing to the delinquency of a minor and involving a minor in obscene acts. The boy’s father, the stripper and two others also face charges.

“I tried to do something special for my son,” Pharris said. “It didn’t harm him.”

About 10 people under the age of 18 were at the birthday party in September, including minors who were not related to the family, authorities said.

Police spokesman Don Aaron said minors are not permitted in adult establishments.

“A person shouldn’t be allowed to circumvent that law by hiring a stripper, a lady who took all her clothes off and spent a good amount of time dancing around minors,” he said.

Anette Pharris took photos at the party and tried to have them developed at a nearby drug store. Drug store employees notified authorities, police said.

“Who are they to tell me what I can and can’t show to my own children?” the mother said.

Barry was a bust...

This is as close as I got... 

No, I did not get onstage with Barry. Apparently, he doesn't do that anymore, which is crazy to me! He has done it for every concert in the last 20 years, and when I finally have the PERFECT strategy to get up there, he changes his show. It sucked, let me tell you. We still had signs, and when my friend held one up, he blew her a kiss. And of course, I rushed the stage at one point, when I saw him start dancing with a woman in the front row. I figured if he was going to be dancing with anyone to Copacabana, it was going to be ME!!! So the best I got was him standing on the stage in front of me dancing. Big Stinking Deal - I wanted to BE ONSTAGE!!! Now I'm going to have to cross it off of my Lifetime To Do List.

Oh well, the concert was still awesome and Vegas was an absolute blast! Believe me, I have a couple of stories that I will be posting as soon as I fully recover! ;)

Blogging Brilliance 5.26.05

Okay.......I came clean with the Barry Manilow thing. Talk about puking up the deep dark secret. So what is yours?

WHAT IS YOUR GUILTY PLEASURE? THE ONE THING THAT MOST PEOPLE WOULD PROBABLY MAKE FUN OF, IF THEY KNEW?

Come on...we're (mostly) anonymous here...Spill it!


(By the way, I finished my signs tonight...They're AWESOME!!!)

Pet Peeve # I don't know, I think I'm on 4...

This should be entitled - "Rude People Suck..."

My youngest daughter is in elementary school, and if you have a child of that age, you probably know about the morning "drop-off circle." It's a loop in the parking lot where parents drive in, the kid hops out of the car, closes the door and the parent goes on their merry way. At our school, if this process takes more than fifteen seconds per car, there is an enormous backup of cars out onto the road, coming from both directions. Every morning my daughter and I get a good laugh from parents who make their kids put their backpacks in the trunk of the car or the back of the SUV, so they have to get out of the car to help them, basically annoying every other parent in line. We even have pet names for every parent who annoys us by doing this, such as "old, wrinkly, embarrassing dad," or "hunchback mom." Don't even get us started on the 20 soccer-mom driven white SUV's all in a row. We're so conscious of people having to wait behind us that when it's our turn to stop, sometimes I just yell, "I'm not coming to a complete stop, so Drop and Roll, baby - DROP and ROLL!!" My daughter usually responds with a completely blank "what are you smoking?" kind of stare. She doesn't think that's as funny as I do.
This morning we were about #5 in line for drop off when a mom gets out of her van, walks around to the passenger side and starts talking to another parent standing on the curb. For five minutes!! She seriously let an entire line of twenty cars, lined up out the parking lot and down the street, wait for her to finish her conversation. No one ever expects anyone to be quite so inconsiderate, so they are usually too close to the car in front of them to ease their way around them. We were all stuck. Remember I live in suburbia at it's finest, so honking at anyone while in the school parking lot would be like strangling a puppy in front of the kindergarten class.
You just don't do it.
So after the rude van mom finally leaves, two other cars who already made their kids get out leave the line behind her, and now I'm #2. The white sedan in front of me stops, two boys get out and then stand in the parking lot talking to their mom from the back passenger door for like five more minutes! You just don't DO this while people are lining up down the street! I was so pissed. I had my daughter jump out of the car and now she was standing on the top stair that leads up to the school waiting to wave goodbye to me as I drove away, like she does every morning (trust me...I know, she is SUCH a cutie!!). You could see people starting to squirm in their seats, and one of the boys kept nervously looking back at me, knowing that his mom was being incredibly inconsiderate. The line is now backed up down both sides of the street and the buses can't pull up to the curb to drop the kids off, because they can't GET to the curb. Now, I realize that five minutes out of my day is not a big deal. Even twice in one morning. In fact, I'm always half an hour early to work because I really do have that much time in the morning after dropping my daughter off. So theoretically I have very little to complain about. But, seriously, does she just not give a shit about the line of people waiting on HER? So finally, in the serene, tree-lined, peaceful elementary school parking lot, not to mention a long line of politically correct, SUV driving, physically and chemically altered stay-at-home soccer moms (and in front of my sweet little girl looking on), I LAID on my horn!
It was beautiful, I must say! But, of course, instead of that woman being known as the rude bitch in the white Camry, I will forever be known as the rude bitch in the silver Cabrio, but hey...I can handle that.

Can't Smile Without HIM!!

Oh, yeah....... 

I'm a closet Fanilow. There. I said it. I spent years in therapy before I could finally admit it to my closest friends. I love him. Completely. Yes, I KNOW he's gay. It's not about that. It's about his voice. It's about his corny songs. It's about the fact that on Saturday night, MAY 28, 2005, I WILL be singing on stage with Barry Manilow!! Mark your calendars.

I've been a Fanilow since I was very young. My sister and I first heard 'I Write The Songs' on our Too-Da-Loop Radios when all we could get was AM (mine was yellow, hers was red, and they were way cool). That's when it all began - my secret love of all things Barry. My first album - yes, vinyl - was Even Now. I hid my love for Barry from everyone but my family all through high school and college. When my first daughter was just a baby, I taped a televised concert and would sit on the bed watching it over and over, singing all the songs to her, and it would put her to sleep. Of course I took this as a sign that we had a mutual love for Barry, but she was probably just really bored. My friends know about my obsession and, after ridiculing me for awhile, actually enable my problem by buying me CD's and other assorted Barry paraphanalia.
That's friendship.

My sister is also a Barry fan, but not quite as extreme as me. She's turning 40 on Friday, and to celebrate, we're heading to Vegas to see Barry live at the Hilton, where he now has his own room. The show is called "MANILOW: MUSIC AND PASSION!!" Cheesy? Hell, yeah! I'm looking forward to the cheese. Can't wait.

I have a Lifetime To Do List that I take very seriously. It has some things that I would really love to do, such as finish a marathon and run with the bulls in Pamplona. It has some things that I've already done, such as trekking in the Andes and climbing the Great Wall of China. Then there are those things that I MUST do before I die. I'm not kidding - getting onstage with Barry Manilow tops that list.

So here's how I get on stage...At every concert, Barry chooses one woman from the audience to come on stage with him and sing "I Can't Smile Without You." I've been to countless Barry concerts and I think I know how to guarantee my spot onstage. Women who get onstage usually have big signs that they hold up when the time comes (I would disclose what will be on my sign, but I can't take the chance that any of you are thinking of going and stealing my sure-fire idea). There are five of us going and, trust me, ALL of our signs will be focused on getting ME onstage. We paid WAY too much money for our tickets to make sure we're right up front, and I've already warned everyone involved that if he picks anyone in my party OTHER THAN ME, I will TAKE THEM OUT to get on stage instead of them. I don't care that it's my sister's birthday, I will TAKE HER OUT if he picks her instead. I will ruthlessly trample her skinny little ass to get on stage with Barry. She understands this and has wisely agreed to step aside.

I'm hoping that my platinum membership in the Barry Manilow International Fan Club (BMIFC for short) will help to secure my spot in Fanilow history.

Trust me...I'll keep you posted.

Tagged again!

By LIBBY!

I'm passing on the tag to...
The Muse
Nicole and
Rob Lowe. Yeah, really...THAT Rob Lowe. Check it out.

I think I'm supposed to pick five from the list. My five with the answers are below...

If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world...

If I could be a professor...I WOULD GIVE MY STUDENTS THE FINAL EXAM ON THE FIRST DAY, WITH THE ENTIRE SEMESTER TO FIND THE ANSWERS. ISN'T A FINAL EXAM JUST A SYNOPSIS OF WHAT NEEDS TO BE LEARNED THROUGHOUT THE SEMESTER? WHY PLAY GAMES?

If I could be an athlete...WELL, I ALREADY CONSIDER MYSELF SOMEWHAT OF AN ATHLETE, BUT IF WE'RE TALKING PROFESSIONAL, I WOULD BE A PRO TENNIS PLAYER (AND MY ASS WOULD NOT BE FLABBY).

If I could be an innkeeper...IT WOULD BE SOMEWHERE ON THE CENTRAL OR NORTHERN COAST OF CALIFORNIA. THE EAST COAST WOULD BE BEAUTIFUL, BUT TOO COLD IN THE WINTER. IT WOULD BE VERY SMALL, ONLY A FEW GUESTS, AND I WOULD COOK ALL THE MEALS FOR THEM, INCLUDING FORMAL DINNERS EVERY NIGHT.

If I could be a gardener...THEN MY INN WOULD BE EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL, WOULDN'T IT? IF I WERE A GARDENER, MY HOUSE WOULD BE SURROUNDED BY DARK PURPLE FLOWERS. AND CLIMBING JASMINE.

If I could be a world famous blogger...WHAT? I'M NOT ALREADY?

Murder in Pleasantville

I was watching the 11:00 news last night when I heard the newscaster say something about murder affecting a quiet little south Orange County community. I thought it was strange, since I live in a quiet little south Orange County community, and started listening a little more closely. When they came back from a commercial, there was a newscaster reporting live from down the street!!

Check it out...
Murder in Pleasantville

I've said before that I live in Pleasantville. Seriously. It's a private community, one way in, one way out. Very small, very close-knit. I'm talking Wonder Years all the way. It's basically a little loop of streets with probably three blocks of houses and that's it. It's so safe that people wait years to get into my neighborhood. Everyone around here knows about it and when I mention where I live, they invariably say, "Oh...you live THERE? I LOVE that neighborhood! How much do the houses cost there?"

So after hearing the newscast, I decide to investigate. I walked outside with my cell phone in hand (the murderer was still on the loose, so I was ready to call 911) and looked for the camera crews. They lied about being live because they were not in front of the house on the news. I was a little disappointed - I wanted the scoop. There was, however, a police helicopter circling above the neighborhood. So as I'm walking back into my house, I thought, "Oh no! What if the murderer entered my house while I was down the street?!" Damn! Now I was going to have to check every single room, under every bed, every closet before I could rest. By now it's 11:30 and there's no way I'm getting to sleep.

The good news is, several people today have already told me that the murderer was found this morning not too far away. Apparently, he went home and killed himself after he killed the other guy. Whew!

Blogging Brilliance 5.18.05

Here's another question that I would love to know your answers to....

(By the way, naming these posts "Blogging Brilliance" has nothing to do with the concept - it's all about your answers!)

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LINE FROM A SONG?

Even if you don't know the title or who sings it - throw it out there and someone else may.

I apologize to my friends who have heard this already so many times, but here's mine...

"I'm gonna find myself a girl
who can show me what laughter means,
and we'll fill in the missing colors
in each other's paint-by-number dreams..."

~Jackson Browne, The Pretender

What's your favorite?

Couple Thoughts From Tonight's ACM Awards...

1. No matter how bad we wish it were true...Kenny Chesney is NOT hot.

2. Faith Hill's hairstylist MUST be fired.

3. At 50 years old, Reba McEntire's window for wearing tight leather pants has passed.

I've Been Tagged!!!!

By Bridget Jones!

Here are my questions...

Three names I go by:
1. Steph
2. Mommy
3. Boo (Only to my older sister!)

Three screen names that I have had:
1. Queenb
2. Calchick859
3. stephf

Three things I like about myself:
1. Sense of humor
2. Temperament
3. My hair (superficial, I know)

Three things I don't like about myself:
1. I'm a procrastinator
2. Naive at times
3. I'm a really bad housekeeper

Three parts of my heritage:
1. Mexican
2. Danish
3. Scottish

Three things that scare me:
1. Something happening to my girls
2. Leaving this life without fulfilling my purpose
3. Hurting someone

Three of my everyday essentials:
1. A drive-thru Coke in the morning
2. Love from my daughters
3. At least on episode of Law & Order

Three things I am wearing right now:
1. White girly T-Shirt
2. Light blue drawstring pants (think scrubs)
3. Nope, that's it

Three of my fave bands or musical artists:
1. Kenny Chesney
2. Jennifer Knapp
3. Bruce Springsteen

Three of my fave songs:
1. Jungleland (Springsteen)
2. Refine Me (Knapp)
3. Anything But Mine (Chesney)

Three new things I want to try in the next 12 months:
1. Get my own territory in my new job
2. Mosaics
3. Actually MAKING it to the gym on a consistent basis

Three things I want in a relationship:
1. Unfailing loyalty
2. Honesty
3. Trust

Two truths and a lie:
1. I've been thrown in a Mexican jail twice
2. I've stowed away on a cruise ship
3. I'm a member of Mensa

Three physical things that attract me to the opposite sex:
1. Presence
2. Confidence
3. Kindness

Three things I can't do without:
1. Computer
2. My hair straightener
3. Family/Friends

Three of my fave hobbies:
1. Reading
2. My kids sports
3. Creating things (painting, cooking, think Martha Stewart without the bitchy side or the prison record)

Three places I want to go on vacation:
1. Africa
2. Virgin Islands
3. Carmel (been there a million times - can't get enough of it)

Three things I just can't do:
1. Eat Indian food
2. Laugh quietly
3. Pretend that Shania Twain has talent

Three kids' names:
1. Olivia
2. Julianne
3. Only have two

Three things I want to do before I die:
1. Visit all seven continents
2. Get on stage with Barry Manilow (more about this to follow...)
3. Find the love of my life

Three celeb crushes: (Remember, I'm old)
1. James Caveizal (before he played Jesus, now it just seems wrong)
2. Pierce Brosnan
3. Sean Cassidy (Come on...I said I was old. I never really got over it!)

Alright, now I have to tag someone...and I choose:

JENNI!,
CHARLIE!, AND...
NOELLE!!

Go for it, guys!!!

One Very Brief Thought on 'Survivor'...

Don't you think it's funny that we find entertainment in a show that takes a bunch of hard core Americans to a foreign country, forces everyone to survive on their wits, strength, determination and resourcefulness and then picks a 'winner?' And they find the most remote areas on earth to make it more interesting.

The funny thing is that in most of these places, I'm sure there are indigenous people groups watching from a distance thinking, "You survive living MY LIFE for a few weeks and if you Outwit, Outplay, and Outlast the other nineteen whimps you brought with you, you win a million bucks? FUCK YOU!!"

Blogging Brilliance 5.15.05

I'm shamelessly stealing this idea from another blog and just sort of adapting it. I saw three questions on someone else's blog and literally lists of them on someone else's and I thought they were cool. Can't do a list or even three at a time, but I can do one at a time.

I'll ask the question and give my answers, but I want to hear everyone else's too.

I'll start with one that allows all of us to be egocentric...


TELL ME THREE THINGS THAT YOU LOVE ABOUT YOURSELF...

Here are mine.
1. I love that I have the ability to find humor in everything, and my outlook on life often helps people I care about to take life a little less seriously also.

2. I love that I'm not just happy but truly joyful. People who are just happy are constantly searching and striving to hang onto that which makes them happy. Joyful people have it regardless of their circumstances, possessions, or relationships.

3. I love that I'm a great mom. I don't take that lightly or for granted. And I'm not making it up, I promise! :) I get that piece of info from my kids, the only one's whose opinions really matter. I realize, however, that that may come and go depending on their perception of me. Here's a conversation that took place yesterday between me and my 14 year old (when I was pondering this very question, by the way)...
My cell phone rings as I'm pulling into my neighborhood, my 14 year old is just dragging herself out of bed...

14 Year Old Punk: Hi Mommy. Will you stop by Juice Stop and get me a #15?
Steph: No, I'm already pulling in. By the way, how would you rate me as a mom on a scale of 1 to 10?
P: Are you kidding?
S: No, seriously, how would you rate me, 10 being the best. You can be honest.
P: A 10, duh.
S: Really?! How sweet! Thanks, baby! (All smiles!)
P: Are you kidding? You're a great mom. Wanna know how you can be a 20?
S: Yeah!
P: Stop by Juice Stop and get me a #15.

I also love that some guy at a BBQ last night thought I was 25 years old, but that's beside the point.

Okay, I want to hear yours...

A Fun Filled Friday Night with the Fabulous Fearless Flyer

Yup. Boy do I know how to party. I've always known I was an exceptionally social and fun loving human being. And what says that louder than a Friday night at home with my Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer, which I have not only read from cover to cover on this beautiful and exciting Friday night, but actually taken the time to circle items that I just don't get.

For example, the Par-Baked Half Ciabatta. ?? You got me.

Cocktail Tomatoes on the Vine. Okay, I get that they're tomatoes, but cocktail? I've heard of Cocktail Parties, Cocktail Sauce, Molotov Cocktails, even Cocktail Weenies. But Cocktail Tomatoes? Are they going to make my martini's taste a little healthier?

Organic Sparkling Lemonade. Who cares? Apparently, this lemonade was made in small batches, maybe so every little lemon felt valued.

The worst part about this week's Fearless Flyer is that it only has two bottles of wine on sale. That's barely worth opening. Usually you get at least two or three pages. If I make a trip all the way out there, I'll probably pick up one of each (remember...I DO know how to party, after all), but I'll probably just stock up on the Two-Buck Chuck. I realize that in most parts of the country it's Three-Buck Chuck, but the fact that it's a dollar per bottle less here is the only thing that's keeping my spirits up about my Fun Filled Friday Night with the Fabulous Fearless Flyer. Hope you guys are all having as much fun as me!

Any lawyers out there?

I don't own my home - I rent. I live in a little suburb in southern California that I affectionately refer to as Pleasantville. The houses are all Cape Cod style (not easy to pull off on the west coast, but here it works), each one has a white picket fence in front (required by the HOA) and a weather vane. My neighbors spend their weekends working on their yards, having BBQ's in their driveways so the other neighbors know they're invited, and we even have an annual neighborhood block party put on by a local realtor because our neighborhood is so stinkin' cute. The feeling of community in the neighborhood is huge, as is pride of ownership. Then there's my house. Think Brady Bunch landscaping, a garage door that has a fungus (I was told by an expert) and is drooping, and when the HOA got on my landlord to paint last year, instead of matching the pretty blue with white trim, the painters made it this ugly slate grey color. My landlord doesn't like to be bothered with repairs or replacing anything that doesn't need it. I pay $2000 (!) per month in rent, and along with the other utilities I would expect to pay for, I also have to pay for water, trash and the gardener. He is so frickin' cheap that I have lived for days with having to turn the water off at the main every time someone had to even use the bathroom because he wouldn't settle for any quotes from prospective plumbers. My heat went out two years ago in the winter (yes, I realize I live in CA and what am I whining for?)and again, he was not satisfied with anyone's quotes.

I live about a mile from my office so it's easy to run home at lunch if I need something, which I did one day last week. I walked in to find that the sliding glass door leading out to my backyard had been shattered. There was a hole about the size of a basketball in the center and the rest of the safety glass was broken and slowly falling off. I had hired a new gardener who started that morning. I called a glass company and then my landlord, who was convinced that a rock had flown up from the lawnmower. I was bummed because I hadn't seen my yard looking this good for quite sometime and now I was going to have an issue with the gardener if he knowingly left it like that. So I called the gardener who met me at my house and basically denied all responsibility for it. I can't prove it, so nothing I can do. Back to my landlord...I didn't have the money to write a check up front for it, and I was a little wary of taking financial responsibility for it, so my landlord gave me his credit card number the next day to give the glass people.

Yesterday I'm at home and the phone rings. My 10 year old answers it, hands me the phone and says, "It's the slumlord." (love her!) He tells me to read my lease and let him know what I think about Article 16 or some other bullshit, basically saying that he thinks I am financially responsible for the repair. I don't think so. He said, "Well if you have people over and something gets broken..." I pretty much cut him off and said, "I wasn't having a party. I was paying someone to take care of YOUR fricking property!!" I can be very eloquent. Anyway, he told me to ask around and find out what the protocol is on this. Like I'm going to say I asked around and I found out I need to pay for it!

Anybody have any experience on this? Opinions? Voo-doo dolls in the shape of my slumlord?

Now I'm pissed.

I just spent 20 minutes writing a new post and the stupid sytem went down without saving it. That's not good.

Thank God!

Found this on Nicole's Blog, who must have been taking this test when she should have been doing her homework. ;)

I am: 2% Republican.

"You're a complete liberal, utterly without a trace of Republicanism. Your strength is as the strength of ten because your heart is pure. (You hope.)"

Are You A Republican?

Because I was raised in south Orange County (a truly Republican state), I suppose it's impossible to wash off that last 2%, so I guess I'll learn to live with it.

"Alcohol..."

I'm not a huge Brad Paisley fan, but I couldn't resist this one...lyrics to his new song...especially the highlighted portion.

I can make anybody pretty.
I can make you believe any lie.
I can make you pick a fight with somebody twice your size.
Well, I’ve been known to cause a few break-ups,
An' I’ve been known to cause a few births.
Well, I can make you new friends,
Or get you fired from work.

And since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg an' Bordeaux, France,
Been making the bars lots of big money,
An' helpin' white people dance.
I got you in trouble in High School,
But College, now that was a ball.
You had some of the best times you’ll never remember with me:
Alcohol!

I got blamed at your wedding reception,
For your best man’s embarrassing speech.
And also for those naked pictures of you at the beach.
I’ve influenced Kings and world leaders,
I helped Hemingway write like he did.
And I’ll bet you a drink or two,
That I can make you put that lampshade on your head.

‘Cause since the day I left Milwaukee,
Lynchburg and Bordeaux, France,
I been making a fool out of folks just like you,
An' helping white people dance.
I am medicine and I am poison,
I can help you up or make you fall.
You had some of the best times you’ll never remember with me:
Alcohol!