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?