Monday, July 6, 2009

Remembering

I was going through some old photographs and things the other day and I found a journal I started keeping for my first son when he was about 1 month old. I was pretty good about keeping up with it for a couple of years, too. The thing is, I told the things he was doing, saying, learning every day and it's PRICELESS. I have two more boxes of things to go through and there is tons of stuff to throw out, but the keepers are real treasures.
For example....I put Jack in his chair at supper one night when he was 3 and he looked at his plate of food and said, "This is ridiculous".
Or, when he stood on the table in his Episcopal school pre-K and hollered, "We're in America! I won't speak Spanish!" He got spanked for this. His teacher was the sweetest lady in the world and she was attempting to enrich their little lives and teach them to count in spanish. Jack was having none of it. Everyday when I picked him up, I'd stand in the hallway with the other moms and I'd be holding Tyler who was still a baby. I'd sort of try to stand behind someone to hide. I'm short, so it's not difficult. I admit it, I was a coward. Why? Because almost everyday, Jack's sweet teacher would say, "Could I please have a word with you?" and I would spit out through my teeth, "What did you do NOW??????" And she would tell me some heinous act he had committed.
Other finds in my trip down memory lane were really bittersweet. I found a letter my Grandpa sent me from Vietnam. Talk about a prized possession. I found my misplaced rubbing of my uncle's name form the Vietnam wall. I found my own baby book that my Mother kept sporadically through my toddler years. She claims I sang "Jesus Loves Me this I Know" when I was 18 months old. I so highly doubt that. In case there were any future doubters, she wrote in an insane looking scrawl "VERBATIM" next to it. So, I sang it verbatim at 18 months. No prompting. I was just a happy little 18 month old kid who Jesus loved. And she knew it because the Bible told her so.
What? Me? I think she had another daughter or something.
I found pictures of the boys when Tyler was a newborn and Jack was holding him. It's hysterical because Tyler is almost as big as Jack and Jack was almost 4. Tyler could have held him.
I found pictures of my cousin Boo and I when we were in high school together. I'll treasure those forever.
I found other crap I'd rather not have found, too. Such as my marriage license to the 2nd husband. Legal papers from divorce(s) and the like. Stuff you have to keep, but you don't really want to think about them or see them. I need a fireproof safe or something. OH! That reminds me!
I am designing a new house. Sanford is not happy and claims he won't let me, but I will do it. I am still working on my closet. But it reminded me because we're going to have a built in safe. I think everyone should have one. You need somewhere handy to put your wills, passports, ill gotten goods, etc. Safety deposit boxes at the bank are a pain in the butt. Plus, you never know when someone who works there will rob you blind! Like in the movies! It could happen. You never know.
I got my Botox booster a couple of weeks ago. Next time I go in, it will be time for the "Liquid Facelift". I will be needing my Juvederm redone with the Botox then. I wish I could have my own needles of Botox. I would inject like every other week. That's probably a bad thing, huh?
Anyhow, I'm on vacation, and I don't feel like looking at words anymore. So, with that, as one of my students always closed his papers last year, "I bid you a doo". Yes, he was awesome.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Under the Sea

So, we went on a family cruise. Operative word being: family. It wasn't as bad as it could have been because we had two separate cabins. We put the three kids in one and Sanford and I shared another. We had walkie-talkies to keep in touch with the kids all the time, but usually, one person would realize they had both walkie-talkies, and as you may imagine, that does nobody any good whatsoever.

Our cruise was supposed to be a 5 day cruise to Mexico. Because of Swine Flu, they changed it to a 7 day cruise to Jamaica and Grand Cayman. Same price. I grew up on the Mexican border, I was not so excited about going to Mexico. I've been to Cancun and all that....not so excited. However, I was jumping up and down when I heard we were going to Jamaica. I've ALWAYS wanted to go there. Damned place. However, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Neither my husband nor myself have ever been on a cruise before, so we had no idea what to expect. I had a vague idea of an all you can eat 24 hour buffet. With lobster. And cheesecake. All day, all night. A veritable dreamland of caloric gluttony, if you will. I was so very sadly mistaken. The food was VOMITOUS. With the exception of "Indian" night, and that was pretty good, and then I found out the head chef is from India. So, with food a bust, I was pretty bummed. The "buffet" they did have was open for breakfast, lunch and dinner. We ate there all the time with the exception of a couple of breakfasts and lunches we ate in the dining rooms. See, here's the deal: men had to wear PANTS to eat in the dining room at night. The HORROR! Although I instructed Sanford to pack a pair of dress slacks or khakis, he did not follow my directive. Therefore, he packed the following for a 7 day cruise: 2 pairs of shorts, 3 shirts, undetermined amount of underwear. Done! He doesn't understand why packing is so tiresome. Because he is perfectly happy to go naked if need be. We did not get good desserts because he failed to mind me.

There was a family across the hall from us, and they took up probably 5 or 6 cabins. They did EVERYTHING WITH THEIR CABIN DOORS OPEN and they allowed their small children to RUN UP AND DOWN THE HALL BETWEEN ROOMS AT WILL. Not restful. There were several children, but the two I'll never forget were Landon and Blake. I know their names because I heard them hollered so much. Now, Landon needed a spanking. Badly. She was probably 5 or 6, but old enough to know better than to call an ancient old man "STUPID!" and hit him. I witnessed that. It took all I had to not do something. Then, everytime they came back to their cabin, Landon began SHRIEKING at the top of her VERY powerful lungs, "NO! I WANNA DO IT!!! GIVE IT TO ME! AAAAAAHHH!!!! WWWAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! YOU ARE STUPID! GIVE IT TO ME!" She wanted to use the card to open their door. Give the brat the card and be done with it, already. You obviously have not disciplined the child at all as of yet, so just give it to her. I threw open my door one evening during a scream fest to find the mother standing in the middle of the hall with her eyes closed and her hands up over her hears in an "I'm not listening" stance. I wanted to clock her. Seriously. What an idiot.

Other than that, our fellow passengers were nice and seemed pretty much laid back and just ready to relax. Except for one other family reunion group. Their kids were left to run amok, as well. However, to be fair, their kids were old enough. Young teens, at least. And I saw one of them crawl across the elevator lobby floor and up the stairs of the Lido deck. Crawl. Like a baby. For no damned reason. Freakin' nuisance. Then there were the groups of random girls who all seemed to meet while on the cruise and become instant best friends. They all had Nintendo DSs, and they played them constantly. Only here is how they played them: while on the glass elevator sitting down with their legs crossed. There were probably 6 of them. Try to get on the elevator where they were and they didn't stand up. Therefore, only one or two other people besides them could ride. And all they did was ride the elevator. Repeatedly. Up. Down. Up. Down. While sitting and staring at small screens in their hands.

I spent a lot of time in the spa. Naturally. I had a pedicure, a facial and did a couples massage with Dude. They managed to sell me an unbelievable amount of crap, as well. I made Dude take it all back to the spa for me so that I didn't feel even more stupid than I already did. Come on...a bath additive that makes you thinner and gets rid of cellulite? Nobody on Earth would HAVE cellulite if that was possible. But I bought it. Idiot. THEN, the spa began stalking us. They called our stateroom asking if we wanted another massage, or perhaps reflexology? Good lord! I didn't go to the sauna because I didn't want to go near the Spa girls. They were relentless. Like Ninjas.

Almost every employee on that ship was from South Africa. Except the Captain and navigators...they were all Italian....rrrrooowwwrrrrr. And the ship was Panamanian, but built in Finland. It was like a huge salad of cultures. OH! There were a LOT of Eastern European employees, as well. Most of the bartenders were. One was named ...oh crap I forget...but it was totally a Russian mafia name. He was HOT, but he looked like he hated your ass. He hated giving you a drink. He hated asking you, "Souvenier glass or regular glass?" He hated it all, and he was imagining snapping our necks with his fingers. *UPDATE* I REMEMBERED HOT BARTENDER'S NAME: NIKOLA BELSIC. Very intimidating, no?

There was a photo gallery of pictures people on the ship had made during the voyage. May I just say this: People. Stop. Seriously. Nobody wants to see pictures of you with your hand propped under your chin like you are in 3rd grade, even if it's in BLACK AND WHITE. That doesn't make it "artistic". Literally HUNDREDS if not THOUSANDS of pictures of people posing in front of backdrops like fake beaches, and fake ships. How stupid! Go up on deck and take a picture, for God's sake! Then there was the Greek ruins backdrop and the grand piano backdrop. Lord help us all. Entire families wearing the exact same thing...one couple making out...no lie. We walked and looked at the pictures for entertainment A LOT. The gallery grew day by day, so it was always full of new delights for our meanness. We had no pictures made. We are not mentally deficient.

I FINALLY got a stupid towel animal in my room the 3rd day. I was pissed. I wanted that towel animal! After that, we had them everyday. The final one, we never were able to determine what kind of animal it was. Our cabins were midship...pretty much in the middle of the ship both deckwise and lengthwise. Which evidently means it's LOUD AS HELL because there is heavy machinery either above or below you.
The room service menu was beyond horrid. Truly. And for the kids to get sodas, they either got charged like 5 bucks a soda, or I could buy them another charge type card called a fountain drink card. 28 bucks each. So, I did. Then, they decided they felt "uncomfortable" walking up to a bar to get a soda. That was the only way to get a soda. Wasted money.

Word to the wise: COLLECT YOUR KID'S CELL PHONES BEFORE LEAVING PORT. Why? International data roaming charges are AMAZINGLY high. I had no idea our daughter was text messaging the whole trip. For the first two days alone, we have a bill of over 1,300 bucks in TEXT MESSAGING. I told her not to text, and she did, and now she is doing the lawn. We won't even know for another month how much more she did since it was international and through multiple carriers. I get livid everytime I think about it.

For peace, I laid out on the aft deck of the ship. It was adults only, so it was quiet. Little latin men brought me drinks with umbrellas in them, and I could watch the ocean and hear the ocean and feel the breeze. Heaven. The pool deck was the opposite. Sheer hell. I laid out there, too...so that one of my kids could hang out at the water slide. (which he deemed sub par for your water slide aficionados). That was one hot assed deck, let me tell you. Walls of glass surrounded it, so no breeze came in. It was wall to wall kids in the pool. The "hot tubs" were nasty looking, but then I have a "thing" about public hot tubs. I won't get in one.

Jamaica was lovely, but Dude once more went against my directions and got us on a tour bus that was not endorsed by the cruise line. We spent about 500 bucks to cruise wildly around Montego Bay at breakneck speeds. Half the trip was spent trying to find an ATM for us to use so we could pay the unbelievable fee. We got a lesson in Jamaican patois, which was fun, but "Yeah, mon, no problem..." gets old after about the 10th time. Especially when it's uttered in almost every single sentence.

Grand Cayman was FANTASTIC. I got my hair corn rowed by some lady, we went on a submarine, we shopped, we went to Margaritaville and it was ungodly hot. Lots of banks in Georgetown, Grand Cayman. Lots. Like almost every building; if it didnt sell Rolex watches, it was a bank.

We only had a few hours in each place, so we didn't get to explore and hang out on the beaches and at the falls in Jamaica as we would have liked. We will have to fly in and stay there for that. I'm ready to go now, personally.

I was amazed that we sailed for two days straight at a pretty good speed before we reached Jamaica. It's pretty damned far down there. We left from Galveston. From Grand Cayman back home it was 2 1/2 straight days sailing. I loved days when we were just at sea. Those were the most relaxing days. Everyone sort of did what they wanted. Our paths crossed by design for lunch and supper. We had the kids stay in their room after 8pm, and as far as we know, no huge fights broke out. Amazing.

However, I'd like to reiterate: THERE WAS NO FABULOUS MILES LONG BUFFET LADEN WITH LOBSTER TAILS AND CHEESECAKE. There was no 24 hour buffet. We looked for it, too! I am probably the only person to LOSE weight on a cruise. I'm picky, and usually, I wanted none of what they had.

We will go on another cruise. However, it will probably be just the two of us, and we'll get a suite. We did spend more time in the room than we thought we would. You can only have nonstop balls to the wall fun for so long, after all. Then, it's time for a nap.

The ship had tons of things to do daily that I had less than no interest in. Things like: Bingo, Trivia games where you won a crappy trophy, and DANCE CLASSES! If you don't want to LEARN to dance a certain way, go watch it, anyhow. I LAUGHED till I thought I'd die. Man, some serious assed Dancing Queen people on that ship. I think there was a scavenger hunt. Oh yeah, there was a digital one and a regular one. But if all I get is a stupid trophy, I'm not going. I want money or a cruise or something good. Otherwise, I'll go to the spa or the deserted aft deck.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

A Few Things and Rum

I ordered some Pina Colada thing the other day when we were out to eat, and it came with a "sidecar" of rum. Now, I am easily confused by things today. Yes, this makes me sound old. However, back when I regularly purchased alcohol, if you wanted a shot of something, you asked for a shot. It didn't come hanging on the side of a glass. It's sorta nice of them to hang that there, but I don't know if I'm supposed to down it like a shot, or if I'm supposed to add it to the drink and stir it in. You see my conundrum? If you wanted an "Upside down" drink, you had to lean backwards over the bar and the bartender poured the alcohol directly into your mouth, and you stood up quickly (with your lips firmly shut) and shook your head like a dog and then swallowed. Very sluttish, but I did indeed do that on more than one occasion. Big deal. Shut up. I had flaming shots, double shots, all sort of shot, but they never came hanging on the side of a drink.
So, I get this drink and my kids and husband all are staring at it, because these days if you drink ANY alcohol the "DARE" and "MacGruff the Crime Dog" saturated youth views you as a depraved pervert. Anyhow, they were staring at me with digust and disdain, and I didn't care. So, I pick up the "sidecar" and ask my husband..."what, do I do a shot? Or do I stir it into the drink?" and he had no clue, plus he probably couldn't hear me because he hadn't had his skull drilled out, yet. So, one of my kids, who I will deal with severely later, started chanting, "chug, chug", which was dumb since I wasn't drinking beer at a Frat house. More on that later.
So, I took a tentative sip of the liquor in the shot glass. Oh my Dear God. It was like nectar. It was some of that spiced rum. I could seriously drink that all day and night instead of water. It was DElicious! I got all excited and had my husband taste it, and he liked it, too. I didn't let my children taste it, although one of them, and yes it was the one chanting "chug" did ask to taste it and I quite strongly told him, 'NO! It's MINE!" and then I sipped the rest of the delicious rum. Try as I might, I cannot find a picture of this concoction. Google has failed me.
Never fear, though. I am going on a cruise in June, and I intend to drink many more of these lovely little bebidas. I will take a picture of one. Or more.

Next time: I think I'll tell you about the best hand cream in the entire world.

Monday, March 16, 2009

For the woman who has everything...

Go here:

http://www.bagsnob.com


I am not only a makeup freak, but I am a compulsive bag collector. Not purses from Walmart, mind you, but purses nobody else has(at least not where I live). I am drooling over an Hermes Birkin bag, but know that if I purchase one, my caveman husband will finally lose what's left of his mind and A. possibly kill me; B. actually pull the house down around our ears in rage; C. Burn all my bags and force me to carry plastic grocery bags instead.

See, he doesn't understand that I have bags and use bags I've had for well over 20 years. They look brand new to this day. You get what you pay for with bags, shoes, makeup, spas..and I'm sure I'll think of something else.

My first snobby bag purchase was a Gucci bag. It is small, and a triangular prism shape. I still love it, although it's more useful to me now as a wallet. When I held that bag in my hands, my fate was sealed. I very quickly found a way to purchase a Louis Vuitton bag. I must admit, my mother paid for most of it, but I paid for part of it. I still love the SMELL of that bag. After that, I was a poor college student, and I was unable to procure the bags to which I had become accustomed. Then, I was a poor newlywed, then a poor new mother. You get the idea. After several years, I was once again able to buy pretty much whatever I wanted, (if I was prepared to deal with George of the Jungle's wrath, that is.) In quick succession, I purchased Kate Spade; many Dooney & Bourke (easily purchased here...now I am not in love with them anymore..);Fendi; and then my Coach obsession began.

I truly love Coach products. One of my most prized finds is a pair of brown suede Coach boots with fringe down the sides. I got them at the outlet for $26.00. That's right, boots that were originally over $400.00 I got for less than $30.00. That's American Dollars, baby.

Then, I realized the Coach wristlets are PERFECT keychains! I quickly obtained many in different colors, textures, etc. I realized I was in desperate need of a Coach tote. I got a bright red tote with black handles and I used it a little bit. Now it's in it's dustbag. Then, I got a huge Coach black messenger bag. LOVE IT. LOVE IT. It's perfection. Still use it. LOVE IT. After that, I purchased a colorful spring striped bag that showed every speck of dirt in the world. It has not been used since that spring. I learned something: don't get pastel colored bags. They show dirt. Get leather. Get dark canvas. Don't get fun stripes. I then purchased a huge saddle leather colored Coach bag. Between that and my messenger bag, I almost needed no luggage to go to Paris.

I made my way with all due haste to Hermes' flagship store. Holy Mother of God. The smell of the leather in there was almost my undoing. There were saddles for sale in there. In the middle of Paris! Scarves as far as the eye could see...perfume nooks and crannies, tres chic salespeople who could tell I was ready and willing to spend those Euros. Oh, and purses! I purchased several perfumes, (I usually get migraines from any perfume and I've never had that happen with a Hermes scent..I'll do a whole blog on that later.), a couple of scarves and alas, Caveman was with me, so he was eyeballing everything I touched and quickly mentally converting the Euros to dollars in his head. He realized the purse I was fondling was over $1,000 US dollars. He actually told me to put it down. I was astonished at his bravery, and as a nod to his manhood, I put the purse down and contented myself with the perfumes and scarves and mere experience of being in Hermes. (Bastard always puts a damper on my party.)

I somehow acquired a very large pink canvas Dooney last year. I don't even remember how or why I purchased it. I like pink, maybe that's why. That bag looks like I drug it through a mud puddle. Repeatedly. It is now stuffed away in my closet on one of my purse shelves. It disgusts me. Someone told me to take it to the dry cleaners, and I might, but not yet. I need to keep it as a reminder to not buy that sort of bag.

There are bags that are considered "The Holy Grail" of bags that most people have never heard of, much less care about. I have heard of them. I Google them obsessively, and try to find ways to justify several thousand dollars spent on a purse. I will let you know when I can justify that damned Birkin bag to Caveman. I will fondle it and cuddle it and probably sleep with it right next to my head. I will give it a good and loving home. I will not put it anywhere near those horrid canvas stained bags.

Anyhow, check out the Bag Snob site. It's very informative and has great pictures of different bags.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Best ever

My nephew said something this week that got him in big trouble in school. He is in 3rd grade, and occasionally has to be verbally reprimanded by his teachers, or even his father; who is my brother. The deal is that my nephew suffers no fools gladly. He never has. He is a unique little guy. I laughed hard when told what he said, and I am a teacher. I am supposed to be the one being stern and teaching the child respect, right?

I couldn't have done it if faced with my nephew's statement. He got to school one morning last week, and the teacher who was no doubt trying to be chipper and upbeat trilled, "Good morning, boys and girls! Did everyone bring their thinking caps today?" I can think of about 100 smart assed responses to that. None of them acceptable to a teacher. Evidently, so can my nephew. His deadpan response was, "Nope. I left mine at home." Well, hell YES he said that! Who wouldn't? He is a smart, interesting kid! As a teacher, I've learned a very valuable lesson: NEVER EVER EVER ASK A QUESTION OF YOUR STUDENTS THAT YOU ARE NOT 100% SURE OF THE ANSWER FROM ALL STUDENTS. You never know what one is going to say.

Example: Not long ago, one of my students was industriously flipping through the pages of the dictionary. Then she would switch to a Thesaurus, wildly flip through the pages, then back to the dictionary. This is wonderful! A child so thirsty for knowledge that they are looking up things, then looking up the words in the Thesaurus to learn new and interesting ways to say these things! I quietly walked up to the student and said, "Whatcha looking up?" She sighed, looked up at me and asked VERY LOUDLY, "What's a 'Whore of Babylon'?" I stood there and said nothing. I had no reply. I mean, "whore" isn't the easiest word to look up in a dictionary if you aren't sure of the spelling. It isn't spelled phonetically. She was trying to hard to find "whore" the "H" section. What am I supposed to do, correct her spelling of "whore" so she can more readily find the definition? And Babylon? Holy crap. Where did this come from? She told me, "My Daddy said my Mama is a Whore of Babylon." The class was very silent as they all watched me to see what my answer, reaction and general tone would be. I said, "Well, I think Babylon is now Iraq." She scoffed and said, "My Mama isn't in IRAQ!" Indeed. Well. Clearly her father was mistaken as to the location of her mother. I flipped her dictionary to the "wh" section and allowed her to go about her business. I realized she had found it when I heard he say: "OOOOOHHHHHH...ok."

Another child told me he could see another student sitting outside the gym "hesitating". As in, "Hey, there's Billy Bob hesitating outside!". I went over to the window and saw a kid sitting on the PE blacktop in the lotus position. He was evidently in trouble and "sitting out" PE, and so he decided to make like Buddha. I said, 'He's MEDITATING, not HESITATING!"

Monday, February 2, 2009

10 Things I Love

10. Mac cosmetics
9. Phyto hair products
8. Fried Mac and Cheese
7. Homemade biscuits
6. My brilliant kids
5. My crazy husband
4. My crazy dogs
3. My career
2. My Iphone
1. Reading

This list is in no particular order. I do not love books more than say...my husband...today, anyhow.

Here is what I've been listening too obsessively in the car lately:

5. The Black Crowes -Shake Your Money Maker
4. Some mix I made
3. House of Pain
2. Best of the Doors
1. I have been listening to this nonstop...Sublime-Sublime

I adore Sublime. I don't care what sort of language they use or whatever. I adore them. Too bad Brad Nowell is gone. Always the musical geniuses for some reason.

School is driving me insane. More than usual, that is.

My observations tonight:
1. I need a pedicure....desperately
2. My roots need doing.
3. My calf muscles get charley horses everynight.
4. My left eye is WAY weaker than my right eye, and it droops when I'm tired.


Oh hell, listen...I don't have much to say. Deal with it.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Mr. Jack Goes to Washington.

Yeah, hi.....so. My eldest son left for D.C. Saturday morning. He was well prepared and I was still terrified.

Guess what? I was right to be terrified. He got to Washington Dulles, and walked off and left his bag on the airplane. The PILOT of the plane called us to tell us he had found it and he would put it at the correct baggage area. Oh.my.GOD. So, I am trying to call Jack, and his phone is off. We are calling the PYIC (Presidential Youth Inaugural Conference) people on our other phone, and after waiting FOREVER for someone to answer, they tell us that they have our son on a shuttle to his hotel. Hmmmm...strange. I am talking to my son on his phone and MY son is wandering around Dulles airport baggage claim aimlessly. There is nobody at the baggage claim we were told to use. Why? Well, because they changed it from baggage claim #2 to baggage claim #10. I was trying to direct Jack over the phone on how to find someone...he was walking up to people he thought were dressed like him and asking, "Uh, hey...are you with that White House thing?" What? WHITE HOUSE THING? Oh dear lord.
Well, finally, we got him hooked up with an employee of the PYIC. She filed a baggage claim with United airlines. She got him on his shuttle. She assured me they would get him some toiletries and pajamas and take him to buy clothes for Sunday. Great...I spent a ton of money on a tux, suit, ties, etc. and he won't have it. But I knew where he was. Good. So, I wait awhile, we felt relatively calm. Then, as it got later and later I began to worry. Jack was supposed to call me from his hotel room. I got a text message at about midnight our time, 1am Washington time telling me he was on a bus and had not eaten yet. So, he had no eaten in over 24 hours. He is 16. I'm surprised he wasn't eating the seat upholstery by that time. To top it off, his phone was going dead. Battery was running low. We lost touch with him. So, we call his hotel, where we are told that yes, he is there eating pizza. Great. Let us talk to him, please. Uhhhh....well...all the buses have arrived and the kids are eating pizza. Great. Put my son on the line, please. Half an hour of going back and forth like this, my son's bus DOES arrive and he is put on the phone. I forced him to get me a PYIC rep on the phone and I filled her ear and she also promised me things. I instructed Jack to eat all he could and call me when he was in his room. He called me about 2 hours later. About 3am Washington time. They had to be up and dressed and ready to go the next day at 5:30.
He did attend the opening celebration. Sort of. He was allowed to leave the group at the Lincoln Memorial and go do his own thing. His thing is Paleontology. He went to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. He has been there before...it's PALEONTOLOGY...it's not changing! Anyhow, he "heard some music or something", and wandered outside. He was somehow behind where the stage was. He was standing there when a bunch "of cop cars and motorcycle cops drove by..then an SUV with guys hanging out the windows with guns....well, their guns weren't PULLED, but they had guns...then I saw Obama get out of his car. So. yeah. Pretty cool." WHAT? WHAT???? How the hell did he get back there and stay back there? Good God Almighty! Somehow, he then met back up with his group, (After walking to the Washington Monument to look down at the Lincoln Memorial and the crowd...he said it was amazing), and they went to hear Colin Powell speak. My said, "hey, I got a picture of Colin Powell." I got excited. Finally! Something we wanted to happen! Then he paused and said, "Well, it's Colin Powell on the Jumbotron.." what? I paid how much for this, again? I said, "Did you hear Desmond Tutu's speech?" he said, "Um, there was another guy, so yeah...I think so. We were kind of far from the podium.." Great. We were told they would have "round table" "question and answer" times with Colin Powell and Al Gore. Not a political Woodstock. Instead of full meals, they've been given boxed breakfast and lunches on the buses. The restaurant at which they eat supper is 2 hours away from their hotels. Smart planning. I know of at least ONE child who had a diabetic episode and got no help and had it not been for her sister and a hotel employee, God only knows what would have happened. I know of several kids who were supposed to have Kosher meals, and have not. Today, I am not sure what they are doing, but I am terrified about tomorrow and even more scared to have him attempt to navigate his way home. Pray for Mr. Jack. He is really a pretty awesome kid.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

I'm Offended

Hey, so yeah. I have something to complain about. I don't care if people want to hear it or not.

Here goes: that commercial for the drug that guys can take for "erectile dysfunction" with the smiling dude? It's gross. Nasty. Wretched. The commercial has the guy smiling like an idiot and all of these people are standing around admiring him. Like while he plays golf, they all stand around and the men stare with envy at this highly unattractive man who has abnormally large teeth while he waves like Queen Elizabeth at everyone. There are women who look like June Cleaver hanging around looking at the smiling guy with a look that in some advertising guy's mind shows intense desire and you know...whatever it is men think women think about or do when they are aroused.

Anyhow, the fact that there is medicine for this particular "condition" is astonishing to me. Now, I'm not bragging or anything, but personally....I have NEVER met a man who could not bring his little friend out to play. EVER. Is there that great a need for this stuff? For the love of God. I mean, I've "known" a few men. You know, biblically or whatever. Carnally. Carnivally? I don't know, I've had several husbands, or you know, a few. A FEW, okay? So, I sort of feel like I'm a...well...not an AUTHORITY, because that sounds whorish and a bit not nice. But, let's say ...no. Nevermind. Anyhow...back to the commercial. How did I get onto the subject of my personal nether region history? Good lord.

So, the Christmas version of the commercial was on for awhile. I guess even limp willies get the Christmas spirit and want commercials to help keep up the festive mood or something. So, during the Christmas version, they show the smiley guy like at an office Christmas party. He is dressed up like Santa Claus (OFFENSIVE RIGHT THERE. SANTA ISN'T CONCERNED WITH ERECTILE HEALTH. SHAME ON YOU FOR PUTTING SANTA INTO THAT SITUATION.) and there is a line of women waiting to sit on his lap. Okay, so the even more gross part is that they filled this commercial with phallic references. First, there is a sign next to the smiley aroused Santa that says NORTH POLE. Seriously? Make the word "pole" larger than the word "north"? Then, the announcer calls Santa, "This CHUBBY Santa". Come ON. I don't even remember all of the references. I just remember that one day it was on, and they were all completely blatant. Gross. Just gross.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I don't really feel better about it.

I don't even feel like doing a beauty product review right now. Here is one thing I'll say: Bliss' "The Youth As We Know It" moisturizer is HORRIFYINGLY over priced. I'll pay for good stuff, but the jar size leads you to think there is way more product than there actually is. It smells nice and the texture is creamy and absorbs nicely, but I will not pay that much for that particular product again. The toner coupled with the moisturizer does some weird thing to my skin. It creates small lumps of what I assume to be moisturizer bonding with the toner and making a solid. I don't need that. That's not desirable. I like the smell of the products. They aren't "perfumey" at all. They are fresh and have a grapefruit undertone to them. I've discovered I love the smell of grapefruit. Who knew? So, small, short review of something I regret buying. I'm not really happy with several of Bliss' products. Even their spa services left quite a bit to be desired in my opinion. I probably won't be trying my luck with anymore of their products. You can get information and purchase their products here: Bliss Spa.


Something I really really like: Dane Cook. I just laughed so hard I thought I'd pass out from lack of oxygen. He's a bit on the hot side, as well. Just a smidge to the left of" jump on him like a spider monkey" hot. He's more of the "hey, I never noticed that he is pretty hot. He's smart and funny, too. Wow, I am now of the opinion that he is hot." It's one of those things that has to grow. He doesn't knock you over right away with hotness.

Someone who is completely "jump on him like a spider monkey" hot is Josh Bernstein. If you have never seen him, do yourself a favor and go feast your eyes. He is made for me, I'm convinced. Yes, Yes, I know I'm married. Yes, yes, I love my husband. But holy crap...Josh Bernstein. I would end up in jail if I ever came face to face with him. I would become a sexual predator immediately. Josh would be my prey. Wow. That's sick. I don't care. Embrace the truth, people.

Let's see, next time I think I'll do a Top Ten. "A Top Ten of what?" you ask? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. Because I don't think that far ahead.

To summarize: Male "enhancement" drug commercials are revolting and vomit inducing. Bliss products leave much to be desired and are very expensive. Dane Cook is one funny mofo, and he is almost incredibly hot. Josh Bernstein IS incredibly hot and really, I don't see how he can be real.

Countdown until Jack goes to the Presidential Inauguration: 6 days

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Go Gators! (and Clarisonic review...)










It's awesome, I know. My Grandpa Gator is smiling down from Heaven. Again.



Now on to my Clarisonic review. Firstly, the important details: This product is made by the same company that makes the Sonicare toothbrush. The company claims to use "sonic technology" to cleanse your skin by removing makeup and other gunk. It is programmed to run for 60 seconds and that is supposed to be how long it takes to clean your face cleaner than it's ever been. I had seen other reviews of this gadget and was curious about it. I am a sucker for anything remotely related to beauty. I felt guilty(oddly enough) purchasing something this expensive for myself. The Clarisonic facial brush runs around $200. I just couldn't see replacing all the other things I buy at Sephora for that one thing. I will spend that much at Sephora, but I like to get a bunch of stuff! Anyhow, I sent a link to the thing to my husband who is clueless about gift giving. He's a wonderful person. He's an intelligent person. He SUCKS at gift giving. I've finally accepted this and so I either buy myself gifts or take him directly to the thing I want, point to it and say, "Buy that." OH! I did the same thing with the WiiFit. I will have to review that little piece of Heaven some other time. Back to the brush.

What a surprise! I got the Clarisonic for Christmas! Yay! It was even WRAPPED in wrapping paper! I eagerly plugged it in to charge and plastered myself with copious amounts of makeup so that I'd have a good and grody face to scrub in the evening. That evening, I used it for the first time. It comes with the brush head for sensitive skin. There are 3 different brush heads you can buy. I don't think I'd want anything more rough than the sensitive brush, though. My skin is pretty sensitive and will turn red at the least little thing. I used my own DHC facial soap and swirled the brush around on that, then pressed the button.

A three-toned beep sounded and then the brush began humming. In the literature included with the brush, they give you a rough estimate of how long you should use the brush on each "zone" of your face. First, you start with your forehead, then move to a cheek, then another cheek, then the chin, and last, the nose. The brush beeps and pauses very briefly to allow you to change facial areas. This is a feature I like. However, you have to estimate your cheeks so that you clean them both in the alotted time. It's just one time period for both cheeks. This irks me about this. Beep twice. I have two cheeks. Beep twice, for God's sake. How hard would that be? Don't make me freakin' COUNT while I'm enjoying scrubbing out my pores! If I pay this much for a facial brush, and it BEEPS for other areas, then it can at least beep two times for my cheeks. Petty, I know. Oh well.

Of course, you can always press the power button after the brush automatically shuts itself off and have another go at your face if you like. I do like. I do it every time I use the brush. I have decided to let go of the anxiety of counting so I get my whole face scrubbed and I just scrub until I think I should move on. If I run out of time, I press the button and go some more and continue to ignore the beeps. Now, there is an explicit warning against this practice in the manual that comes with the brush. One may OVER brush their face and end up with scabby nastiness instead of dewy glowiness. I have yet to over scrub, though.

I honestly think about this stupid brush during the day and can't wait to get home to use it. I use it in the morning and in the evening. It is supposed to eventually shrink your pore size, and help to minimize fine lines. The company claims that it removes up to 6 times as much makeup as other cleaning methods. That grossed me out. I don't want anything left on my face after I wash it. Another perk of using this wonder of scientific beauty implements is that the company claims use of this brush can assist your skin in better absorption of all of those expensive facial serums and creams that you buy to fend off the steady march of time on your face. Sounds good to me. Does it do that? I don't know. I've been using it for about 2 weeks now, and I love it. I use it in the shower in the morning because the sweet little precious thing is waterproof! I use it at the sink in the evening. I have glorious skin. It's positively radiant. At least, I like to think so.

I wholeheartedly recommend this product. I wish I had had access to it when I was younger. It simply cleans deeply and thoroughly. When I take a cotton ball and toner and go over my face after using the brush, there is nothing on the cotton ball afterwards. With other methods of cleaning, I will still have remnants of makeup or oil or some disgusting thing on the cotton ball. Who wants to go to bed with that unidentifiable crap on their face? Not me. I know that when I put on my myriad anti-wrinkle potions that there is nothing between the product and my skin.

When looking in my gigantic bazillion X magnifying mirror, I can see my clean little pores. No gunk in them. No desperately applied concealer left in the small creases near my eyes. Just clean, smooth skin. With way too many lines on it. And what is that mole? Was that there before? Oh God, what is the thing you're supposed to look for in skin cancer? Moles that change size? Moles that weren't there before? Wait. Maybe it's a freckle. I get freckles. Not as many now as I did as a kid, but I do get them. Maybe it's a freckle. I'll try to scrub it off with my brush.

The Clarisonic Skincare Brush is available through Sephora.com; Ulta; Be Beautiful; and other retailers. The price is approximately $200. It is available in pink, graphite gray and white. Replacement brush heads will run you about $25 and you will need to replace your brush head every couple of months.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

How fast they grow....

So, I have two boys. They are my heart and soul. They are also my sweat and tears. Tonight, a ruckus erupted in the back part of the house where we keep the children when we are not allowing them in public.

My youngest came running up the hallway hollering that his brother was going to "kill me with a hammer!" Really? Kill you? With a hammer? Wow. So, of course, right on his heels was his brother hollering that he did NOT say he was going to kill him with a hammer. In fact, what hammer was he referring to? How silly the whole thing was! Haha!

Then, the youngest caught sight of me and then he turned on his tears. He is able to make his entire face beet red and have huge glistening teardrops trembling on his eyelashes in a matter of seconds. I really don't know how he does it. It's a gift.

So, when the youngest boy began his soggy explanation to me, the oldest one started sort of smirking. Well, not really smirking. That sounds so negative. But yeah, he was smirking. I asked what was so funny, and the whole story began to come out.

The two have spent every waking moment and most sleeping moments in the same room with their various video game systems and laptops. Eventually, as you may guess, this must get old. The room they've been both occupying is the eldest son's room. The eldest son will be dead asleep during the day (he is 16 and doesn't seem to have his days and nights straight YET.), and the youngest boy will be in his room playing games. Loudly. He has some game where he wears a headset and microphone and converses with the other game players. Loudly. He's a loud talker. Even when he's trying to be quiet, he's a loud talker. He's always been loud.

So, tonight it came to a head. Youngest was loudly laughing and babbling nonsense with his friends on the headset thingie, and the eldest son all of a sudden desired some "alone" time. He wanted his room to himself. Totally understandable. Here is where it gets confusing. Either the oldest son did or he most certainly DID NOT tell his younger brother to leave his room. Get that straight right off the bat. Of course, happy-go-lucky younger child is too busy laughing and carrying on to listen to that. So, oldest brother again either does or does not ask/tell his brother to A. Get out of his room, or B. Leave or he will kill him. I'm still not sure which.

This got no more of a response than the first volley got, so oldest child did the following: or did not do the following: he rummaged under a pile of clothes; (yes, clean, and yes he has a closet.) and pulled out......A HAMMER! *you may gasp in horror at this*. He then either did or did not brandish said hammer at the younger child and A. Threaten him; or B. Comment on the handiness of hand tools. So, younger son informs older son that he better NOT threaten HIM!
At which point, older son decides he needs to use the facilities, and he begins to leave his room. At which point, he says, "I'm not taking any chances!" and he retrieves the hammer he had set down. I have no idea what "I'm not taking any chances!" means in this instance, but it is claimed that he did, indeed, say that. He then proceeded to go do whatever it is they do in the bathroom.

During this interval, the terrified, victimized younger child remained in his brother's room where he knew he was not wanted and continued to play his game. He was TERROR STRICKEN, I tell you. Older boy comes back. He notices that his brother has not left his room, but in fact, remains in his room hollering into the headset. Whilst holding the hammer, the older boy may or may not have( but probably did) make it understood to his brother that if he did not leave immediately, he would begin practicing his wood shop skills on his head. Younger son jumps up, throws open the door and runs screaming down the hall, which is where we came into this story.

We soundly chastise older son for having a hammer, (he THOUGHT about denying that he had one..but thought better.) and we all realized it was left in his room from some earlier repair or some guy thing they had all done involving Sears and Lowe's and Home Depot. He surrendered the hammer to us. He was told to come to us if his brother won't leave him alone. Meanwhile, the traumatized younger child is shivering and shaking in our bedroom waiting for me. I enter and immediately tell him I don't want to listen to the drama. He wails, "You are taking HIS side! You are going to ground me and he'll get away with it!!!!" and he throws himself on my bed and proceeds to get it wet with his huge sloppy tears.

People, I'm tired. I hate drama. I love solitude. I love quiet. I love my kids. I hate drama. So, I have to have a long talk with younger son about blowing things out of proportion and knowing when to leave gracefully. It took awhile, but he is now in his room where he was sent, looking over his Math packet which he was supposed to be studying in preparation for his 9 week exams this coming week. Older son is in his room doing whatever it is he does. Making birdhouses or reading or something. I don't know. I am in my room where I shall remain until I must leave for work tomorrow morning.

My husband had dog crap on the bottom of his foot, which is where the phantom dog crap smell was coming from. He had no clue he had dog fecal matter on the bottom of his foot. This bothers me. I don't particularly want him to sleep in here tonight. Who the hell knows WHAT all he's tracked in?

I'm too tired to write about what I was originally going to write about. Which is a damned shame for y'all, because it was going to be FANTASTIC. I was going to review my latest most fabulous beauty item: the Clarisonic Face Brush. I'll save it for tomorrow. I know you'll be waiting anxiously.
Goodnight.