Friday, June 29, 2007

Oh What a Night!

If this week were an auto accident, I'd be wearing a neckbrace. Or at least one of those plastic lampshade deals that dogs wear for licking their butts too much.

Lots of fun stuff to share, but the highlights were definitely due to Rex. Not one for spontaneous manuevers, he arrived home one day early from a business trip. Even the laundry bowed down in gratitude. (Although I have yet to buy new soap. Or milk. We'll have very stinky/cranky kids if I don't stop writing and hit the store soon.)

Last night he took me to see The Jersey Boys (The story of Franki Valli and the Four Seasons.) It was one of those business deals from vendors, but God bless him for remembering to say "yes" when he normally says no. I LOVE this stuff. We had dinner beforehand on the top floor of a downtown office building. What he considered "schmoozing with strangers to be taxing" I ate up more than the four courses of food I was served. (And nary a plate did I need to wash... perhaps the best part!)

I know life isn't always glitz, glamour and surprises by handsome strangers (Okay, we've been together ten years, but just go with my picture for a moment)... but it sure was a fun change. To put my anxiety away and just go with the flow... to get lost in the moment... this is nothing short of a miracle for me.

To quote the standing ovation dance number, "Oh What a Night!"

Here are some highlights with the exact cast we were fortunate enough to see.

Monday, June 25, 2007

I Wanna Talk About MeMe

I used to hate meme's because I thought they were nothing but self-indulgent ca-ca. Today my outlook is brighter when the little narcissistic angel on my shoulder was dusted with meme powder by Pam of Mindtrips

Here's how it works:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their 8 things and post these rules.
3. List 8 people you choose to tag.
4. Leave them a comment telling them they're tagged and to read your blog.

So, 8 random facts…

1. Due to my OCD brain, I am always thinking random thoughts that either make me laugh or drive me insane. Last week it was random book titles. For example, a memoir about an inspirational seal could be called "A Porpoise Drive Life." It would be about an actress sea lion who "Otter Be in Pictures". She falls in love with a country lovin' humpback named "Whalin' Jennings." Go and SEA it for yourself! Give it the Seal of Approval! You'll flip your fins out over it!

2. I live near a town called Agoura, and I've created an ad campaign for living there: "Get Agoura-phobic: You'll love it so much, you'll never want to leave!"

3. Once I was locked in a bathroom stall with Brett Butler.

4. I went out for lunch with Screech from Saved by the Bell. He proposed marriage, but was probably only kidding as his preference was for stripper types. And making chess videos.

5. I would have preferred the name Eva or Ruby over what we ended up calling our daughter. I would have preferred Alexander to what we ended up calling our son. But now I love their papa given names and feel sorry for anyone who doesn't have them!

6. I plan on writing a musical one day. You will all be invited to the premiere. Bring your best dress... and/or your walkers. Not sure what year this is going to take place, but it will happen.

7. I'm sort of the rapper of mommies. I can rhyme off the top of my head with any subject thrown at me. Try me sometime.

8. I can speak basic Spanish. While traveling in Mexico I'd be good enough to get you to a bathroom or find your car, but I might order you a tampon instead of a taco. I'm a work en progresso!

9. I can play piano by ear.

10. I consider myself a super free spirit in some ways, but a real traditionalist in others. Dyed hair, huge hoops, loud country music? Why not. Precious Moments dessert plates? Not so much.

As for those I'm tagging, they are:

1. One Tall Momma
2. Princess in Galoshes
3. Gretchen
4. Mommyham
5. Meno
6. Maggie
7. Liza's Eyeview
8. Anon in San Fran (you know who you are... just post in comments or your website girl)


Saturday, June 23, 2007

My New Suit

I've been trying on a new suit these days. I'm not saying I'm perfect at it, but I'm inching toward peace... along with a few extra inches that I aim to trim up with healthy exercise. But rather than looking at my behind... errr... behind me... I'm looking forward at all I have in my future.

Perhaps some of you are ready for some new suits. Perhaps you're tired of hanging out on the cement of life, bundled up in comfort clothes, because taking a risk is too scary.

As for me, I'm sick of the crap I am seeing on tv. I am sick of how women are killing themselves to be a size sub zero. I'm sick of men sticking us on covers of magazines looking like prostitutes. I wonder how I'm going to raise my daughter to be a strong woman when our media tells us to waste away if we're to be loved.

And so, here I am. In all of my 6'1 glory - in a fabulous suit! (Thanks Mama P Light! If anyone needs a designer swim suit for 10.00, let me know and I'll point you toward her Ebay store.) Let me tell you what else I love while I'm at it.

- I love that as time passes, I'm getting more and more comfortable in my own skin (even if that skin has a few left over zits. Clearly I'm still a teenager!)

- I love that I'm caring less if someone else doesn't like what I have to say (or look like.)

- I love that when my kids go into a pool at a party, I'm right there with them, jumping and splashing (and let me tell you - at 180 pounds... I make quite the psunami. I prefer "psumommy".)

- I love that I have curves where I'm supposed to have curves because that means I'm not afraid to eat.

- I love that a very cute 23 year old man flirted with me at the post office the other day and I could laugh about it with my husband.

- I love that there's less of me then before I had kids, and while I hope for an additional 5 pounds off, I like myself just fine now.

- I love that I have a man who is sitting adjacent to me now, typing away at his computer game, who wouldn't care if I looked good in this suit or not.

- I love that this man is a father who nurtures my kids whole heartedly and takes his role more seriously than I ever imagined a Star Trek Voyager could.

- I love that at the end of the day, I'm realizing that the spirit within me is worth more than any money, perfect figure or fulfilled fantasy of what it means to be a woman.

I love that all of you read me and inspire me by your kind words and encouragement. (But you know what I love even more? This blogging has helped me define what I need most in my life... so even if you didn't approve, I could live with that, too. But since I just took a big risk by putting myself in a bathing suit for the whole world to see, feel free to say something nice.)

Thursday, June 21, 2007

The Calm after the Storm and Vice Versa

Ever have those days where you have bursts of energy, followed by long spells of quiet contemplation?

That's where I've been lately, hence my non-consistent posts. I'm enjoying stealing some time for me rather than blabbering just because a random thought enters the spinning cerebral cortex carnival E-Ticket ride known as Mama P's brain. (Side note: I'm sure Rex wishes I'd practice Zen-like peace during our nightly conversations when I go from kitchen remodels to Darfur to my Aunt Joan to the dangerous scab near Stink's belly button which turned out to be day-old Play Dough, which launches me into diatribe on my hygiene techniques.)

Everyone says it's important to listen, and while I think I am a good friend, I often am so busy with the clever retorts that I wonder how much I really offer someone. And even more, I wonder how much I am allowing them to enrich me by being so quick to respond.

And so, dear readers, I am once again embarking on a new quest: to enjoy quiet time. To read. To journal. To send thank you notes.

Of course, I shall be doing all this in between post office runs, dropping off Stink at school, feeding Pip, giving Pip a nap, wishing friends luck on cross country adventures, thrifting, waking Pip up, picking up Stink, buying new toner and hitting the post office.

But you get the idea. And hey... don't comment right away! Give yourself at least thirty seconds to see if I'm making any sense.

Okay....NOW POST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, June 18, 2007

I'm That Classy

And now, this important message, coming to you via my 76 year old mother, via my 81 year old uncle, with a special recommendation from my 86 year old Grandma Stella who is more in the e-mail loop than I am. I very unclassily give you....


What do you call two Mexicans playing basketball?

Juan on Juan

What is a Yankee?

The same as a quickie, but a guy can do it alone.

What is the difference between a Harley and a Hoover?

The position of the dirt bag.

Why is divorce so expensive?

Because it's worth it.

What do you see when the Pillsbury Dough Boy bends over?


Why is air a lot like sex?

Because it's no big deal unless you're not getting any.

What do you call a smart blonde?

A golden retriever.

What do attorneys use for birth control?

Their personalities.

What's the difference between a girlfriend and wife?

10 years and 45 lbs

What's the difference between a boyfriend and husband?

45 minutes

What's the fastest way to a man's heart?

Through his chest with a sharp knife.

Why do men want to marry virgins?

They can't stand criticism.

Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and good-looking?

Because those men already have boyfriends.

What's the difference between a new husband and a new dog?

After a year, the dog is still excited to see you.

What makes men chase women they have no intention of marrying?

The same urge that makes dogs chase cars they have no intention of driving.

Why don't bunnies make noise when they have sex?

Because they have cotton balls.

What's the difference between a porcupine and BMW?

A porcupine has the pricks on the outside.

What did the blonde say when she found out she was pregnant?

"Are you sure it's mine?"

Why does Mike Tyson cry during sex?

Mace will do that to you.

Why did OJ Simpson want to move to West Virginia ?

Everyone has the same DNA.

Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?

Breasts don't have eyes.

Why do drivers' education classes in Redneck schools use the car only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?

Because on Tuesday and Thursday, the Sex Ed class uses it.

Where does an Irish family go on vacation?

A different bar.

Did you hear about the Chinese couple that had a blond baby?

They named him "Sum Ting Wong".

What would you call it when an Italian has one arm shorter than the other?

A speech impediment.

What's the difference between a southern zoo and a northern zoo?

A southern zoo has a description of the animal on the front of the cage along with... "a recipe".

How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say the F word?

Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell *BINGO*!

What's the difference between a northern fairytale and a southern fairytale?

A northern fairytale begins "Once upon a time ..." -A southern fairytale begins

"Y'all ain't gonna believe this shit...."

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Live Joyously

A friend of mine wrote a speech recently that I had the honor of editing. A theme that ran through it was forgiveness. How "Love is a Verb." And perhaps the most poignant, but hardest to follow, she reminds us to "Live Joyously."

I fall victim to my demons like everyone else does, but then I read someone else's take on their flaws, and I'm immediately inspired to keep going.

Like this morning. I was feeling crappy to say the least. Just tired. But even with my unbrushed teeth and looking about as unkempt as Cameron Diaz on Oscar night (no offense, you Diaz fans out there... but can she at least brush her hair?)... Pipsqueak still had the good graces to laugh at me hysterically.

I am saddened these days by a close family member who is on her way to the other side. She is a woman who never forgot to send me a birthday card. Or send me a doll when she knew I was having a girl. Or send me money when she herself was living in a tiny apartment. She was an advocate for the less fortunate always, from children to cats to monkeys - she even had some primates living in her home. Toward the end of her life her health was at an all time low, but she never ceased to live joyously. Aunt Joan, I don't know how much longer your body will be here, but your spirit will live with me as long as I am alive.

Everyone else, I hope this weekend you strive to live, you guessed it, joyously. Let me know how it goes.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Father's Day, Yeah Yeah...

It's been an insane week. Good, but crazy. I wish all of you a happy Father's Day. Dad, wherever you are, I miss ya. Enjoy a dietetic soda and pastrami on pumpernickle at your booth with the great view.

As for us here on earth, we have no plans.



Wish us luck.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

Oprah always says that white people feel guilty for their blessings. She says she never does because she grew up not just poor, but "po--"... so broke that she couldn't even afford the last two letters.

I admit that I fall into the category of feeling guilty sometimes for my hard, hard life. I find myself complaining of exhaustion from running the kids to swim lessons (some people can't afford such luxuries.) I'm tired from shuttling them back and forth to preschool (more of the same thing as the first.) I'm so booked with parties, baby showers and wedding celebrations this month that I am going bonkers trying to find babysitting for all the events - events which I just show up for and get fed great food, great wine and have great conversation.

Oh, and poor me. In between all this "work" I have to fit in time for my networking. Which takes place on one of the most famous beaches in the world.

Then there's Paris Hilton. Do I think she deserves jail time? Sure. But when I think about her entitlement issues, I have to look inwardly and wonder what seperates me from her. I have phones, and clothes and cars and friends. She just has more of it. And to some people out there, who are Po--, I might as well be Paris Hilton.

I have attempted the logic on many occasion of "I have worked hard. I chose a good man to be my partner." But sometimes, when I really look at the big picture, I can't help but feel guilty anyway. I was born into a good family. I was sent to good schools. Sure, I made good choices (MOST of the time. Getting knocked up at 21 one of the first times I ever had sex? I'm thinking that falls under the "not such a great choice" category.) But I had a great support system during the rough times and learned from my mistakes.

I've said it before, but when I think of single moms out there - despite their choices - I can't help but think I must pay back. And so, regardless of the narcissitic bend of these personal writings, I am keeping my eye always moving toward others who might benefit from my help. Isn't everyone entitled to bitch about the mundane things of life? To dream as much as I do?

Anyone else have a thought on this?

Friday, June 08, 2007

Hooray for Hollywood

I decided to go back to my roots and attend a networking breakfast for female filmmakers this morning. The plusses: beautiful ocean views, hot coffee, stimulating conversation. The negatives: 8am in the morning in Malibu (about 45 minutes from me.) This means up at 6, out the door by 6 fxxxin thirty.

Side note: When you're waking up the rooster crowing crowd and lurring them with sippy cups of juice - akin to catnip for kittens - you KNOW it's early. The plusses: Topanga T lives ten minutes from there and agreed to take my munchkins so I could attend. Thank you T and B! (If I didn't already approve of her dating a man 14 years her junior - she's 37 - I absolutely love him now. He not only let them blast Lady and the Tramp at 8:15 am, but he actually watched it with them. I could joke that he's the SAME AGE AS THEM, but he's such a great guy that I can't go there. And more importantly, I can't risk such a great babysitting opportunity by being snarky.)

As far as getting back into the groove of talking to women who love creating for a living as much as I do, I only have six things to say:

Why did it take me so long?

PS: Above are photos of my boy practicing his batting skills. Like my script pitching, it's going to take some focus. Eventually, though, we'll knock it out of the park. Worse case we don't, we'll have fun trying. It beats sitting on the bench. (Unless you're sitting on the bench and getting paid for it. In which case, my ass will sit on your bench as long as you need me to. Would it be too much to request a Starbuck's half decaf, half caf vanilla percent latte while hanging out there? The metal slats get hard on a gal's bootie. Even the wood ones have the potential to poke. You think I'm a pain in the butt? Try hanging out on a bench all day. I'm telling you, this gal needs her Starbucks. Or a career in Hollywood, in which case I can have my assistant just get it for me. See... this morning's breakfast has already got me thinking ahead! Yeah, WIF!)

Happy weekend, peeps!

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Learning My Letters

I pick up friends akin to the way I thrift store shop: Last minute I bump into something, it's nothing I ever thought I needed, but once I get familiar with it, it's a part of my life forever.

And so it happened just now that I came home from a hot and sticky walk to find a handwritten letter waiting for me. As the kids played "Dora the Explorer goes to Costco and Gets Chased by Hot Dog Villians" (thank you, Sister R, for the play castle) I propped up on the couch, letter in hand. It was from my aunt-in law who, despite not being related by blood, shares a similar disposition to me. (This is a nice way of saying she's a bit wacky, quick to laugh, and doesn't mind the madness of toddlers and fart jokes. She has four kids of her own - all grown now.)

I am touched that not only she would take the time to handwrite me a letter, but am once again reminded of how connection comes when you least expect it. My mom is older. My dad is gone. My aunt is pretty ill back East. It's nice to know that in addition to my wonderful family right here - you really are so great, people - there's other folks in the world who take interest in what I do. In who I am.

Will I ever get that novel done? Will I ever make a fortune in my Ebay business? Will I ever figure out exactly why my children must open every slice of my gum while I'm napping and soak it in the toilet for me?

With people like my aunt-in-law out there who think I'm halfway good at the thing I love most, does it really matter?

Monday, June 04, 2007

Gimme a Hand, Will Ya?

A little reminder to all of us that sometimes, no matter how hard we try to make things sparkle, someone has to put their little hands all over our masterpieces. (In my case, I'll take healthy paws over none at all. Little brats.)

Happy Monday!

Friday, June 01, 2007

Stimulating Dinner Conversation

Our family might be all over the map during the day (sometimes for long stretches when Rex is traveling) but during a traditional work week, we sit down to dinner together. It might be at 5. Sometimes 6. Sometimes it's paper plates, sometimes it's Fiesta Ware. Sometimes it's steak and salad, more often than not it's boring pasta and frozen veggies.

Those of you who aren't aware of the benefits of rounding up the posse for a few moments of togetherness(in our house, we call it "herding cats") just check out some of the conversation we had tonight.

The Setting: Dinner, 6PM

The Meal: Pasta and Peas

Stink: "Papa, can I smell your butt?" Papa: "Stink, that's not polite." Stink: "Can I pleeeeze smell your butt?"

Sophie "Mama, want to play hide the noodle?"

Me: "Stink, I'm sick of your poop jokes. Now sit on your stool."

Papa: (re: edomome shells) "That's one big pile of pea"

Sophie: "...Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Nemo..."

We're a class act.

PS: I'm playing around with advertising in prep for a new website. Right now Google just puts whatever they feel like up on top. One day it was Pampers. One day Jesus. One day car parts. Be patient while I figure it out. (Or simply jam all the lines, American Idol like, with your rapid clicks. Yes, YOU can make me 5cents richer next month simply by jamming up your computers with unwanted spam! Shocking I never made it in sales, huh?)