My turn to talk

Yoga 102

2012-01-24T19:00:00.001-06:00

Who needs yoga classes? Why humiliate myself in front of limber 20-year-olds who think it's perfectly normal to bend in half, grab your ankles, bend in half again, stretch one arm towards the ceiling, open your heart to the sky, and rise onto your left hand in the position known as the Bean Sprout Rising In The East?

I can do all this at home, with my Yoga 102 Video from Target.

My video begins with peaceful flute music and a lovely blonde woman, sitting peacefully on her mat.

I can do that.

She begins very slowly, apparently recognizing my total lack of coordination. Let's breathe in. And out.

I'm doing great. In. Out. My confidence is growing.

Lovely Blonde Woman quickens the pace a bit, challenging the fledgling followers who were lured into purchasing her video by the 20% discount on a green flowered yoga mat that smells like a recycled Goodyear tire but is definitely an improvement over the disgusting black mats at the gym that smell like two year old socks that have never been washed.

I see you connecting with your inner rhythms, LBW.

I admire your ability to contort your body into the ShmarmaBarmaPharmaDownwardDog position.

I even enjoy your video, which I am watching from the comfort of my couch with a bowl of popcorn on my lap as I type this blog post.

I think I'm getting the hang of this yoga thing. It's a spectator sport, right?

Got it. I'm with ya. Breathe in. Breathe out. Downward dog. All is well.

~~~

Yoga 101

2012-01-23T19:20:00.002-06:00

Some things in life are exactly what they seem to be. Take, for instance, a two year old who wants to eat cookies for dinner. She makes it perfectly clear what she wants.

"Cookie?"

No, we're not having cookies for dinner.

"Cookie??"

No, mac and cheese. You love mac and cheese.

"COOKIE!! COOKIE COOKIE COOKIE!"

As the mac and cheese goes hurtling across the room and splatters all over the wall, the two-year-old continues to communicate quite clearly.

"COOKIECOOKIECOOOOOOOOKIEEEEEEEE"

At this point, most normal parents scramble to the pantry, throw open a bag of cookies, and dump them all onto the high chair. This is not giving in. This is basic survival.

You are probably wondering what this has to do with yoga. Let me explain.

Yoga instructors are the cosmic opposite of two-year-olds. I learned this over the weekend, when I came up with the extremely bad idea of trying a basic yoga class at the gym.

Here's what yoga instructors say - and what they mean:

"welcome. sit quietly on your mat in whatever position is comfortable."

This is going to hurt.

"breathe in and out. cross your legs in a simple, relaxed position. like me. one over the other. you can do it."

I see you in the back row. You can't even cross your legs. What are you doing in my class?

"now stretch forward, bringing your legs into the upward downward sideways dog position while rising in slow motion onto one hand and lifting your right arm towards the ceiling."

I've been pretty bored this week. This should be really fun.

"as you inhale, cross your left arm over your shoulder and grab hold of your right ankle."

Perfect. I heard something crack.

"pay no attention to the people around you. enter your own private space. dwell in each breath. in. and out."

You still breathing, there in the back row? Here comes the grand finale.

now pull your ankle in towards the center, exhaling as the gentle motion rolls you over onto your side, in a graceful arc that mirrors the rotation of the earth"

Ha! There she goes. I love my job.

(You just wait, Yoga Instuctor. I bought a Yoga video at Target yesterday. I'll be ready for you next time.)

~~~

Sick day

2011-09-23T18:52:00.006-05:00

(keep watch, little puppy. my little puppy is sleeping.)

Gramma, thanks for coming over.

You're welcome sweetheart, your mommy had to take Jules to get her immunizations, right?

Yeah. And I'm sick. I threw up, did you know that? It was disgusting.

Yes, I heard. You look a little tired.

No. I'm not tired. I'm a puppy.

Oh, ok. What does the puppy want to do?

She wants to wear a princess dress.

Ok.

And you need to make her a leash. With a collar.

Ok.

And then you be the mean person, and trap her, right here, with this blanket.

Ok.

She's going to take a little nap. I don't like to take naps. But the puppy wants a nap. You be right there. Don't go anywhere.

I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I promise, puppy ... puppy? You there? Puppy? I love you, little puppy. Sleep tight.

~~~

Preschool

2011-08-17T19:16:00.004-05:00

(finger painting ... it's about more than fingers)

My 4-year-old granddaughter started preschool this week. Amazing. Some of my first memories are of preschool.

I remember a big red "barn" where the outdoor toys were kept. If I hurried outside at recess time, I could get the tricycle before anybody else grabbed it.

I remember the swings, where I could have happily spent an entire day. My teacher told my mom I was amazingly good at "pumping" for my age. This was my first and last athletic accomplishment.

I remember finger painting, with the squishy paint covering my hands. It smelled great. The best part of finger painting was, there was no wrong way to do it. You could work really hard to make a painting that looked like something. Or you could just enjoy the smell, the feel, the fun of smearing gooey paint over the slick paper, making rainbows that blended into houses that smeared up against clouds that looked like nothing in the real world but felt like a brave, brand new world you had created all by your little 4-year-old self.

That's all I remember. But it's enough. It was a good start.

~~~

Now you're cooking

2011-07-10T18:38:00.003-05:00

(time for dinner ... or maybe not)

I remember, not that long ago, when dinners were cooked in the oven, not the microwave.

"dinners were cooked? like, people made their own food? how old ARE you, anyway?"

Never you mind. It was not that long ago, believe it or not. In fact, I was just reminded of the good ol' cooking days because my microwave is on the fritz.

"on the fritz? what the heck does that mean?"

It means, if I want to reheat the leftovers from last night's home cooked meal, I have to push the START button a bazillion times before anything starts to happen.

"whoa, wait a minute. what are leftovers?"

Oh my gosh, don't you young people ever eat leftovers?

"ya, if we're dumpster divers. eww."

What about home cooked meals? Are those a thing of the past?

"why cook at home when you can get an in-and-out burger in 5 minutes?"

What if you want comfort food, like chicken and dumplings?

"cracker barrel."

Mom's spaghetti?

"buca di beppo."

Pot roast?

"what's that?"

Never mind ... sigh ... I think I'll go push the START button a bazillion times and see what happens. Catch you later.

"don't save any leftovers for us. we're full."

~~~

Help Wanted: Part Four

2011-07-06T19:52:00.001-05:00

(help help help)

Hilarious Craigslist job listing that I just might apply for if I completely lose my mind # 4:

We are seeking Equine Telemarketers

Must be a self-starter and you must have Equine knowledge and telemarketing experience.

Full Time Position - $9.00 Hr. plus Bonuses
972-542-8700 ext. 1222 Attn. Amy

To Reply by email: Press reply to reply at the top of this ad.

This ad raises a great many questions.

First, why are they yelling at me in big bold letters?

Second, what the heck is an equine telemarketer? Is it a horse who makes phone calls to strangers? Or a strange person who makes phone calls to horses? Either way, I'm not sure I qualify.

Third, how completely stupid do you have to be, to need directions about pressing "reply" to reply to this ad? Although, of course, if you are a horse this would be an indication of an incredible (for a horse) IQ. So maybe it's not so stupid after all.

I wonder what you have to do to earn the bonuses ...

~~~

Help Wanted: Part Three

2011-07-03T07:43:00.000-05:00

(unemployed? clearly you are not trying very hard)

Hilarious Craigslist job listing that I swear I did not make up # 3:

Wiener Man, Fort Worth's best wiener food truck is now hiring all positions; cashier, grill, expidite and truck leads. Get into this fast-growing industry on the ground floor as we would like to promote from within. We serve amazing wieners and encourage patrons to put them in their mouths frequently. Please reply via this ad with a short description of yourself and/or a resume. See you soon!

Dear Wiener Man: I'm sure your wieners are amazing but you will not be seeing me soon.

~~~

Help Wanted: Part Two

2011-07-01T07:51:00.002-05:00

(jobs jobs jobs)

Hilarious Craigslist job listing that will help me avoid the need to write original blog posts # 2:

Head Lice Removal Specialist

Nit Picky is currently hiring head lice specialists as independent contractors in the Dallas, Texas Area. Training is provided, experience with hair is preferred. The position requires the ability to travel to treat families for head lice throughout Dallas County to our customers home. We offer an excellent opportunity to earn a substantial supplemental income that allows you a flexible schedule while working part time.

Requirements Include:
*Pass A Background Check
*Pass A Reference Check
*Pass A Drug Screening
*Ability to Stand for Long Periods of Time
*Good Eye Sight A MUST!
*Enjoy Working With Young Children
*Comfortable Going Into Families Homes
*Positive Attitude
*Be able to deal with bugs
*Available to immediately respond to text, phone calls, or email.
*Have a cell phone and current drivers licsense.

I enjoy working with young children, but I have a feeling that standing for long periods of time picking bugs out of screaming children's hair and passing a drug test are mutually exclusive.

~~~

Help Wanted: Part One

2011-06-29T19:35:00.004-05:00

(unemployment? what unemployment?)

Who says there's an unemployment problem? Anyone who makes that claim has not been on Craigslist lately. There are plenty of jobs to go around.

This is the first of possibly hundreds of posts to come highlighting hilarious job postings on craigslist. Now, if you are a coworker of mine, don't get your hopes up. I am not searching for a job. But someone close to me is - which of course means that I am helpfully writing multiple resume versions (HumorousResume / StraightResume / DesperateResume / CharmingResume) not to mention corresponding cover letters and job search engine queries.

Not that I'm controlling or anything.

Along the way, I have encountered some actual job listings that I thought you would enjoy. I swear I did not make these up. Here is the first craigslist listing, word for word, with my comments below in red:

Driver, pick up for crematory

local crematory needs driver/pick up person. must have valid drivers license, ability to do heavy lifting of deceased. training available for crematory operation. must have excellent social skills, attention to detail. $10 per hour salary. part time postion may develop into full time.

Location: lewisville texas
Compensation: $10 per hour

Ok, so first of all - what exactly would the "training for crematory operation" involve? Don't tell me. I don't really want to know.

Second, I can understand why you'd need the "ability to do heavy lifting" - but are "excellent social skills" really needed? Really?

And third, this highly desirable position pays a whopping $10 an hour? Seriously?

Sign me up. My TotallyDesperateResume is on the way.

~~~

How I Spent My Summer Vacation - Part One

2011-06-09T18:11:00.004-05:00

(summertime ... and the livin' is easy)

It's almost summer in Texas. I can tell because it's almost 100 degrees, at almost 7:00 at night, and it won't go below 75 degrees for almost 5 more months, at which point I will almost be ready for cooler temperatures.

Summer is no big deal to me now. I worked today. I'll work tomorrow. But back in the good old days, when the dinosaurs roamed the earth foraging for children much meatier than I, summer was truly a magical season.

First, we turned in our books.
I loved doing this, probably because I was an extremely strange child who would today be labeled Obsessive Compulsive But Possibly Above Average In Verbal Skills Which May Negate The Need For Therapy If She Is Lucky. The teacher instructed us to open to the first page of each textbook, where there was a little chart listing the children who had used that book and the condition in which they left it. I made sure to mark one degree up from the pathetic child before me, even if it meant taping torn pages and erasing stray pencil marks. This, believe it or not, was great fun.

Then, we had our Flag Day ceremony.
The last day of school was always Flag Day, which involved some kind of ceremony that I honestly do not remember. All I know is, it was the last day of school.

Then, it was VACATION TIME!!!!!
Yippee! Three whole months in which I could do nothing at all.

Or ...

(to be continued)

~~~

5 Reasons why a Free Health Fair is not nearly as festive as it sounds

2011-05-23T07:12:00.001-05:00

(the doctor will be with you in a moment)

We live just around the corner from a beautiful new hospital.

If I blind-folded you and led you into the lobby and then, ta-daaaa, ripped off the blind-fold, you would look at the plush carpet and mahogany-paneled walls and crystal chandeliers and immediately ask what time the free breakfast buffet begins, knowing they would serve a lovely assortment of full-size croissants with fresh strawberries and maybe even custom-made omelets with sprigs of parsley artfully arranged on the top.

That's how fancy this hotel is. I mean hospital. It's a hospital. I forgot.

Anyway, this hospital had a free health fair last weekend. Wasn't that nice of them? They had a huge tent outside, with bounce houses for the kids, free lunch for everybody, free health screenings, and free giveaways.

I realize it's rude to complain about free stuff, but here's why it wasn't quite as festive as it sounds:

1. They served hot dogs for lunch. Do you know what's in those things?

2. Their bone density machine said I am a "negative two" which means my fragile little bones are about to shatter into dust and I really need to see a doctor.

3. Their cholesterol test said I am in danger of solidifying at any moment and I really need to see a doctor.

4. Their glucose test said I have way too much sugar in my system which is probably attributable to the granola bars they were passing out but nevertheless, I really need to see a doctor.

5. Their blood pressure machine said I might as well go lie down and wait for the heart attack to take me. Don't even bother making dinner. It will only go to waste.

I must say, the nurse at the "Results" table was very kind. Her smile faded as my results came in and she shook her head slowly as she wrote the extremely high numbers in red ink, circled them, drew exclamation points next to each one, and passed the death sentence across the table to my shaking hands.

"You really need to see a doctor," she whispered, apparently afraid that loud noises would cause my clotted arteries to burst on the spot.

"Would you like to make an appointment? We have two hundred specialists on staff. Some of them might even be in your insurance network, which means you'll only have to pay for hundreds of dollars of blood work, mysterious office charges, and other miscellaneous bills that will trickle in for several years."

I thought for a moment. I remembered the good old days, when I felt healthy and strong, which was approximately one hour ago. I decided to take my chances.

Tests, shmests.

Let's go have a hot dog.

~~~

How to publish an e-book

2011-05-21T14:06:00.005-05:00

(chapter 1: in which our story never gets off the e-ground)

I know, I know, I've been promising y'all a book for some time now. Fortunately, the world of book publishing has become much easier in the last few years! In fact, I should have an e-book on Amazon any day now.

Gone are the days of having to find an agent. Today's authors don't even have to send out query letters, anxiously wait by the mailbox, and then burst into tears when rejections flood in with highly insensitive comments like "Not accepting manuscripts at this time" or "Not our genre" or the slightly more encouraging "Everyone has a story to tell. Perhaps you need to figure out what yours is, before you try to tell it."

No! Those days are over! Today, you can simply e-publish an e-book for free, and watch the royalty checks pour in!

Here's how you do it:

1. Write a book. Trust me, this is the easy part.

2. Visit the helpful Kindle Publishing Help Page for instructions on how to publish it.

3. Follow the easy step by step directions. Easy step one is "Formatting Your Text." I have been stuck on this easy step for three and a half weeks. But as soon as I figure it out, I will be ready for the next easy step! I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!

Meanwhile, I am accepting pre-orders for my soon-to-be-best-seller so leave a comment to let me know how many e-copies you would like!

Any day now! I promise!

~~~

Financial Planning After 50

2011-04-08T18:27:00.001-05:00

(i'm so old, I have equity in my house)

I'm pretty sure I am the oldest employee in my entire company. That doesn't bother me, but it does have some interesting financial implications.

1. I decided to max out my 401(k) contribution, as well as my Health Savings Account contribution, not to mention the special catch-up contributions they give me because I am a geezer who, let's face it, will never catch up.

2. As a result, my take-home pay is approximately $1.98 each week.

3. In fact, our company accountant called me to make sure I was aware that my take-home pay would no longer pay for a take-out pizza.

4. Yes, I told her, that's fine, I'm saving for retirement, which just might happen some day.

5. Unless the stock market crashes again.

6. Which is totally possible, as long as Goldman Sachs controls the world.

7. Which means I better keep working.

8. So I probably need some new clothes.

9. Which will cost a heck of a lot more than $1.98.

10. And in conclusion, my husband clearly needs to get a second job. Do you want to tell him, or should I?

~~~

Technology after 50

2011-04-04T19:01:00.002-05:00

(of course i know what a mouse is. everybody knows what a mouse is)

I do my best to keep up with technology. But it's moving way faster than me.

Here are a few things I just don't understand:

1. What the heck is an Android?

2. What is a cloud, and how can I send my files there? And why would I want to send them there, if I don't even know where it is? Plus, I don't have any files anyway, so do I still need a cloud? Cuz if I need one, I really want to get one.

And 3. What if I'm not as smart as my smart phone? Will it be smart enough for both of us? Like, will it explain itself to me, because I'm pretty sure I will have no idea how to use it, if I ever get one, which I probably won't because let's face it I really don't want a phone that is smarter than me.

I miss the good old days, when phones made phone calls and that was it. No email. No pictures. Just hello, let's chat a while.

I miss the cars of yesterday, with windows you had to crank down and super cool AM/FM radios and maybe a tape deck if you were really lucky.

But I do kinda like my Netflix streaming video, with my queue of old black and white movies starring Bette Davis and Clark Gable. See? I'm hip. In my own little way.

~~~

Fitness After 50

2011-03-31T18:35:00.005-05:00

(step ladies, step!)

Good morning Gals!! Welcome to our Prime Time Fitness Class!! It's a Prime Time to get fit, because I can tell you are all on the verge of total physical disintegration!! So let's get started!!

...booming rap music blares from the speakers

Ok!! Here we go!! Just follow along.

Grapevine right clap clap spin around touch your toes grapevine left clap clap.

You okay, honey? Somebody help her up. Let's try it again, a little slower.

Grape. vine. right. clap. clap. spin. around.

Hold on. Right is THIS way. Got it? This. Way. NO. THIS. WAY. RIGHT. EVERYBODY POINT TO THE RIGHT. Ok. There. Let's try again.

Grape. vine. right.

OKAY. So, grapevine means step, cross, step, cross. Got it?

STEP. NO, TO THE RIGHT! JUST STEP!!!! LIKE YOU'RE WALKING!!! OH MY GOD, DON'T YOU MORONS EVER WALK??? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHICH WAY IS RIGHT??? THAT'S IT I QUIT I JUST CAN'T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!!!!

...booming rap music continues ... me and my friends grapevine randomly ... half an hour later, it's time for lunch at applebee's.

life is good.

~~~

Fashion After 50

2011-03-28T07:00:00.000-05:00

(my fashion motto)

When I was young, I considered myself a pretty snappy dresser. The salespeople at Lord & Taylor knew me by name. I once got a phone call from our local J.Jill store, letting me know there was a sale coming up. My kids could give directions to any store in the mall by the time they were six.

Then I started working at home. Bye-bye snappy, hello sweats.

But now, I'm back in the work force - and over 50. What's a gal to wear? Tell me, J.C.Penney, what kind of clothes would you choose for the "Wear To Work" section of your website?

"This gorgeous dress has it all and when you put it on, we guarantee you won't be the only one swooning."

I don't think swooning is in my job description. And I don't particularly want any of my coworkers swooning, either. What else have you got?

"Steal the attention in any room when you step in wearing this dress."

Just don't stand in front of a stained-glass window, or you will completely disappear. Don't you have something a little plainer, JCP?

"Ruffles and lace combine to create a look that is as elegant as it is romantic."

Well, the color is better but we're back to that swooning mentality again. Sigh. Here are a few more lovely choices from, I swear to God, the "Wear To Work" section of JCP.com:

Have I mentioned that I heart sweatpants?

~~~

Sleep After 50

2011-03-26T05:37:00.003-05:00

(must be nice ... clearly she is a long way from 50)

How To Sleep Like Someone Who Is Over Fifty:

1. Drink 6 glasses of water just before bedtime.

2. Sprain your ankle.

3. Turn the heat in your bedroom to 82 degrees. At midnight, turn the air conditioning to 55. An hour later, go back to 82. And so on.

4. Give up in frustration at 5 a.m. and tell yourself that you are extra smart and extra productive, since your days have at least 2 extra hours in them compared to everyone else. Slackers.

Warning: Do NOT sit down and watch a movie, read a book, or hold a warm snuggly sleeping baby at ANY time during your extremely long and productive day. In fact, don't sit down at all. You wouldn't want to fall asleep, would you?

Yeah. Me neither.

~~~

Skin Care After 50

2011-03-24T20:32:00.003-05:00

(if your skin does this, it's time to worry)

Today I'm beginning a new series on Life After 50. Not that I will admit to being After 50, myself. It means absolutely nothing that I have socks older than all of my co-workers. They are all just children. Barely old enough to drive. Babies, really.

Anyway.

You will know that you're After 50 like me when you rub a little moisturizer under your eye, and the skin stays skewed off to the side until you rub it back in place.

Then you'll notice little blotchy spots on your face that some people might call age spots except that would be terribly depressing so you back away from the magnifying mirror and pretend you never saw them.

Next, you'll start paying very close attention to commercials for extremely expensive eye creams that promise to make your skin as clear and smooth as the 20-year-old model in the commercial who probably has that weird sun allergy because there is no other explanation for her perfectly white, smooth skin. Unless that eye cream really really works.

Finally, you will decide that it's silly to buy expensive creams when you can simply fill in the wrinkles with extra foundation! What a great idea! And then cover it all with powder! That looks really really great!

Remember, girls: Don't pay $100 for eye cream unless it comes with shoes and a handbag.

Don't let younger co-workers intimidate you, just because they use code words like Hulu, Netflix and Streaming Bluetooth 3G Android Video, making you wonder if they are secretly recording your thoughts through your computer monitor.

And don't stand too close to a magnifying mirror.

~~~

Big Hair

2011-03-21T17:47:00.000-05:00

(me, as a baby. was i adorable or what?)

Mandatory Disclaimer:
I am totally stealing the topic for this blog post from Fran, whose blog (here) is always funnier than mine but only because she writes with a charming British accent which gives her an unfair advantage.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled blog:

I live in Texas, where Big Hair is a must. In fact, this is my next-door neighbor, who went a little overboard trying to live up to the Texas Big Hair tradition. While we shake our heads sympathetically at the end result, we all admire her for her good intentions.

In order to really pull off Texas Big Hair, you need naturally dense follicles like mine. Not that I'm bragging. But my hair is so Big, I could donate half of it to charity and still have enough left over for several Farrah Fawcett wigs.

My hair is so Big, when I get it thinned between cuts there's a pile on the floor the size of a Newfoundland puppy.

My hair is so Big, if I flip over and blow-dry it upside down it comes out looking exactly like this:

(no need to spray. it will stay that way all day long.)

Fortunately, I discovered a wonderful invention that lets me have semi-normal hair. It's called a Chi.

In 30 seconds, this amazing device heats up to a bazillion degrees, allowing me to tame my big, crazy, uncontrollable hair for the first time in my entire life. I highly recommend it if you have Big hair like mine.

BUT ... if you're using your Chi in the morning when you are half awake and it slips out of your grasp, do NOT try to catch it on the way down.

Trust me on this.

~~~

Dear Me:

2011-03-16T18:20:00.006-05:00

(i heart sticky notes)

I am totally not complaining, but my life is crazy. Now that I'm working full time, my feeble old brain needs to go in 10 different directions at once, for 10 straight hours every day. This is not easy for a feeble old brain.

My solution? Sticky notes.

In fact, I have quite a variety of sticky notes:

1. Job folder sticky notes: My co-workers love my helpful sticky notes, which say helpful but extremely vague things like "Not crazy about this" or "Not feeling this" or "Please change." I simply have no time to be more specific. Read between the lines, people.

2. Project management sticky notes: These are the sticky notes which are stuck all over my computer monitor. I put each one there for a reason, but at this point I have no idea what that reason was. Fortunately, it is a very large monitor. So my system is intact for now.

3. Bedside sticky notes: I keep a fresh supply of sticky notes on the headboard of my bed at all times. This way, when I wake up at 3 am and realize that we are planning to mail 20,000 letters next week but I totally forgot that we need to design an envelope to mail them in, I can bolt upright in bed, grab my little sticky notes, realize that I have no pen, go into the bathroom, grab my eyeliner, and scribble "JOB VPB2 NEEDS ENV" which immediately blurs into something totally undecipherable which hopefully I will be able to decipher in the morning.

Perhaps I need to develop other sticky notes, which might help me remember to throw some towels in the laundry, check up on my kids and eat lunch at least once a week.

But for now, I'm just too busy.

I have some envelopes to take care of.

Catch ya later.

~~~

The Bachelor, Season Umpteen

2011-03-15T18:28:00.004-05:00

(no brad, no! she's, like, totally the wrong woman for you!)

I'm sure you all followed Season Bazillion of The Bachelor just as closely as I did. What's that? You didn't watch it??? Really??? What on earth did you do on Monday nights, then?

Here's what you missed:

Hunky Bachelor Brad returned to national prominence, after being scorned and ridiculed for turning down TWO beautiful women on Season Bazillion Minus One, because, let's face it, he was just completely emotionally unavailable.

Emotionally Unavailable Brad went through weeks of agonizing choices, sharing hot tubs and hot kisses and hot dates with hot women in hot outfits and ultimately giving the final rose, plus a huge engagement ring, to Emotionally Unavailable Emily.

During the After Show, which the producers hoped would be the Dream Wedding Of Brad And Emily Show, both of them appeared quite Emotionally Unavailable. They both looked miserable. What a let-down.

Here's what I learned:

1. I just wasted the last 8 Mondays.

2. I totally need to get a life.

3. If you are emotionally unavailable, take ownership of that! Have some pride! Close yourself off and resign yourself to celibacy and stay AWAY from television cameras. Please.

Now the only question is ... what am I going to do on Monday nights?

~~~

A Day In The Life Of A Unicorn

2011-03-06T17:20:00.002-06:00

(this is one spoiled unicorn, let me tell ya)

Today was another sunny day in Texas -

Gramma! Shush! My unicorn is sleeping.

Oh. Sorry. Where is he sleeping?

She! It's a she! SHUSH.

She. Fine. Where is SHE sleeping?

In the hat, of course.

Oh sure. The hat.

Can you talk quieter? She is very sad. She needs to sleep.

Why is she sad?

Because her fairy friends Azura and Ariella got shot.

Oh really? That is very sad.

Yes. They got shot by the wicked queen. She shot the unicorn in the wings. Do you think you could find a doctor who can fix my unicorn? Can you Gramma? Please?

Well of course. In fact, I can even make YOU into a magical unicorn.

You can??

Yes. That's what Gramma's do. We take little girls, and we magically transform them into the most special, beautiful, amazing creatures in the whole wide world. Are you ready?

I'm ready.

I love you Riley.

I love you too, Gramma.

~~~

Oil Prices ... yawn ...

2011-03-04T19:09:00.004-06:00

(do these lips make my wrinkles look smaller?)

Crude oil prices shot higher Wednesday! Violent clashes in Libya! Concerns about petroleum supplies!

Excuse me while I yawn.

Gasoline now costs $3.39 a gallon at our local 7-Eleven, compared to just $2.99 thirty seconds ago when we filled up our Toyota Camry which thank goodness we only drive 5 miles a week, so that fill-up will fortunately last us several months.

Still. That's a big increase.

Why am I still yawning? Hey, it could be worse.

I got a Macy's flier in the mail today, advertising Estee Lauder Skin Care Products. Did you know that their Advanced Night Repair products are inspired by 25 years of DNA research? I'm sure Watson and Crick are, like, totally thrilled to know that their double-helix discovery paved the way for these revolutionary products, which will make my blotchy, wrinkly face look exactly like a 25-year-old supermodel with remarkably large, puffy lips.

What does this have to do with the price of oil? I'm glad you asked.

Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair Eye Cream is available at your local Macy's store for ONLY $49.50 per half ounce.

According to my extensive research and my handy dandy calculator, my brand new face will therefore cost a whopping $12, 672.00 per gallon.

Whew. And you thought gas was expensive.

I wonder what those puffy lips will cost me. I'll keep you posted.

~~~

Cheap Kindle Books

2011-03-01T18:46:00.003-06:00

(i love you, kindle)

I recently bought a Kindle. And yes, I love it.

I thought I would be able to find cheap Kindle books or even free Kindle books, which I mention only because I am shamelessly aware of the value of popular search terms such as Free Kindle Books and Horrible Terrible Halloween Costumes, which for some reason is still by far the most popular page on my blog.

Anyway.

Being something of a reading snob, I thought I would miss the sensation of turning pages. Not to worry. It is way easier to push the little "forward" button with my thumb. In fact, I think the Kindle people should really invent some way for me to simply think "forward" and have the pages flip.

Is that too much to ask?

So far, I have downloaded some fabulous free Kindle books, including:

Directions For Navigating On The South Coast Of Newfoundland With A Chart Thereof Including The Islands Of St Peters And Niguelon, which definitely deserves the prize for Longest Title Of The Year.

The Cattle Raid Of Cualge An Old Irish Prose Epic, which leaves me wondering whether they really have cattle in Ireland. Who knew?

The Little Princess, which held me spellbound as a child watching Shirley Temple tap-dance her way from riches to rags back to riches again but puts me to sleep in no time flat as an adult, which is not all bad.

Bottom line: I love my Kindle. I have no shame when it comes to exploiting keywords. And I'm hoping this blog post will bring all kinds of new readers. Hey, my blog is free. What's not to love?

~~~

Insomnia

2011-02-21T07:00:00.000-06:00

(count me. i dare ya.)

Insomnia:
The inability to sleep.

Symptoms:
Waking up at random times during the night for absolutely no reason, and then finally getting out of bed at 5 a.m. just like my dad used to do when he was like 80 years old even though I would kindly tell him just go back to bed for pete's sake, what the heck is wrong with you.

Causes:
1. For other people - getting old.
2. For me - the stress of my extremely demanding job, which is not all that extreme or demanding but clearly #1 cannot possibly apply, so there you have it.

Treatment:
~~Warm bath~~
~~Warm milk~~
~~Relaxing music~~
~~Boring movies~~
~~Counting sheep~~
Darned if I know. Any suggestions?

~~~

To Do List

2011-02-19T06:37:00.002-06:00

(hurry hurry! but put some clothes on first)

No time to talk! I have a day off today. Lots to do, especially since I was away on vacation all of last week.

To Do Today:
Grocery shopping
Vacuum
Dust
Take a walk
Check out estate sale down the street
Drop off dry cleaning
Catch up on blogs and Facebook
Touch up hair color
Realize I bought the wrong color
Return to grocery store, wearing hat to cover the orange halo
Forget what color I bought last time
Buy four different shades of L'Oreal, just in case
Touch up color again
Wonder if anyone will notice the yellow halo
Play with grandbabies, who don't care what color my hair is as long as I have gummies in my purse

Cancel summer vacation. It's way too much work.

~~~

Seriously Fabulous Blog Posts

2011-01-25T05:47:00.006-06:00

(fortunately, there are alternatives to the Seriously Terrible Blog Posts I rambled about yesterday)

I'm excited to introduce two brand new blogs ... drum roll ...

The first, All For The Best, is by my witty and talented sister Monica. She will tell you some of the same stories as me, but she remembers the details so you will actually get a beginning, a middle and an ending, unlike with me where you get "And then somebody said something so funny, I wish I could remember what it was, you would be laughing hysterically right now, trust me."

With four girls in our family, I must admit there was a lot of rivalry going on when we were little. But I'm happy that we are now each other's biggest supporters. Visit Monica's blog. You'll love her.

The second, Mommee and Mee, is by my totally amazing daughter Jessica, who has two little girls and a full time job and sells her own handmade crocheted items on the side and should not have time to brush her teeth, let alone write a blog.

Her little ones are full of personality - and that's an understatement - so visit her blog for funny stories and adorable pictures and even a chapter or two from the Unicorn Bible. See? Now you have to visit to find out what I'm talking about.

Happy reading! I love you, Moni and Jess. Blog away!

~~~

Seriously Terrible Blog Posts

2011-01-24T19:43:00.004-06:00

(bad, bad, bad ... maybe that's good)

As you can tell from my potentially best-selling but currently nonexistent book and the movie rights I expect to sell as soon as my life develops some kind of plot, I have the potential to be an expert blogger.

And so, tonight I am generously offering my expert opinions on how to develop seriously terrible blog posts.

Why would you want to have terrible blog posts? I'm glad you asked. So far, my 2 most popular topics of all time are:

1) Seriously Terrible Halloween Costumes

and

2) Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts

For some reason, people have actually googled these exact topics. Seriously. So surely there must be people actively seeking Seriously Terrible Blog Writing Tips.

Happy to oblige.

How To Make Sure Your Blog Posts Are Seriously Terrible:

A. Ramble on and on interminably about absolutely nothing. Look back at any of my previous posts for examples.

B. Make each post one long paragraph. Walls of words are so much fun to read.

C. Jump from one topic to another. Be funny one day, morose the next, right-wing on Wednesdays and left-wing on Thursdays. When you have nothing else to write about, try poetry. Make sure it rhymes.

I hope these tips have been helpful! Forget spelling, grammar, sentence structure and cohesive thoughts. Seriously terrible is the way to go. Take it from me.

Blog away!

~~~

Working Girl

2011-01-11T19:34:00.004-06:00

(this show now makes sense to me)

I'm sure you are all wondering how my career is going. After all, I've had a real job for almost a year now. I go to an office. I wear shoes every day. I have co-workers. After many years of freelancing, these are not small changes.

Here are some of the things I have learned so far:

1. If they offer you a promotion, don't assume that's a good thing. Be sure to ask (a) if you will now be responsible for making sure other people do their jobs; (b) if you will now be expected to work longer hours, preferably without whining; and (c) if your paycheck will now be bigger.

2. An old dog can try to learn new tricks, but the other dogs will not be fooled. You might as well go ahead and ask your stupid questions, such as "How did you make that amazing pie chart? From Excel? Really??" ... if you're lucky, your co-workers will think you are making a joke. Ha ha just kidding, I've known how to make a pie chart on Excel since I was in kindergarten! No, preschool! I meant preschool!

And 3. If you can't upgrade your skills, upgrade your wardrobe. Who needs Excel, Powerpoint, flashy graphics, impressive spreadsheets, or compelling data? If you have a merino sweater, fitted slacks and designer shoes, people are sure to assume that you are competent. At least, that's what I tell myself.

I have a lot more to learn, I'm sure. But for now, I'm happy to drive to my big impressive office building which looks an awful lot like a little strip mall, toss my hat in the air like Mary Tyler Moore, and join my coworkers around the water cooler which is actually a coffee maker while we completely stress out over the incredible amount of work we need to get done in the next umpteen hours before we can finally go home and pop in a video of The Office and fall asleep within the first 30 seconds.

Life is good.

~~~

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 4)

2010-11-06T11:10:00.002-05:00

(pretty in pink! perfect gifts for girls)

Dear J.C. Penney,

Well, you've done it again! I thought your Christmas catalog's gift selection for boys just couldn't be beat. But I was wrong! The pages for girls are even better!

I could tell immediately that I had reached the girls' section of the catalog. I mean, that bright pink background just shouts, "Calling all girls!" ... either that or "Pass the Pepto-Bismol, I TOLD you that salmon didn't smell right."

But no. You know I'm kidding! Every girl loves pink. And apparently every girl has an unrelenting, nearly-pathological desire to be a princess. Or a mother. Or perhaps a coy, coquette-ish Southern belle with pearls, gloves, and a hideous hat.

We could use more girls like this in the world, let me tell you. I am SO relieved that the "Women's Lib" movement that was such a big deal during my own formative years is finally, once and for all, completely forgotten.

I mean, honestly, what self-respecting woman wants to dress like a man and cart around an ugly brown briefcase?

I myself would much rather put on my crown, fold up my Majestic Magic Mirror Dresser Suitcase With A Real, Battery-Operated Hair Dryer ($49.99) and stroll over to a friend's house to try on each other's tiaras.

Happy Holidays to you and yours, J.C. Penney! Hats off to your Christmas catalog! Or maybe I should say "tiaras off!" Ha. Ha.

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 3)

2010-11-03T10:54:00.002-05:00

(merry christmas, billy! hope you have a blast)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I just want to congratulate you on the outstanding selection of toys for boys this year!! Great job!! Whoever your toy buyers are, they totally deserve a raise.

Not that long ago, "gender neutral" gifts were all the rage. Remember that ridiculous trend? I mean, honestly. Anatomically correct male baby dolls with tiny camouflage-print diaper bags? Please. Any boy who would play with that, deserves whatever punishment his preschool pals decide to dish out. Not that I am condoning violence. Though, come to think of it, you probably wouldn't complain if I DID condone it. After all, the following images are straight from your catalog:

Wow. My muscles became more toned, my voice dropped a register, and hair began sprouting from my ears, just from looking at those pictures.

I just have one question. Can that Camo Marshmallow Shooter possibly be retrofitted to shoot something else? Gerbils, perhaps? Or tiny hand-made arrows? In next year's catalog, you might want to leave out the word "marshmallow." I really don't think today's parents want their boys playing with marshmallows.

Drop that word, and you'll have a whopper of a line-up for tomorrow's budding bank robbers, paramilitary stealth fighters and homegrown terrorists.

Fun for all!

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 2)

2010-10-30T09:50:00.004-05:00

(ho ho ho. yes, i'm talking about you suzy)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I finally got a few minutes to peruse the toy section of your Christmas catalog. I must say, I was a little disturbed by this full-page image:

Oh sure, the picture is cute. The description is equally adorable:

NEWBORN BABY DOLL
Her own itty-bitty baby to love and care for. Birth certificate is included. $19.99.

Ok. But here's the deal. Even if Suzy is delighted with her own itty-bitty baby, Suzy's mother is apt to be less enthusiastic. I mean, who wants to be a grandmother at the age of 28? Apparently Suzy was not listening during those mother-daughter talks about abstinence and purity and not getting caught in the same awful, hopeless trap for the next 20 years of your life with a worthless no-good man who can't even find the time to get off his butt and apply for a job but boy, he's got plenty of time for hanging around Dave and Buster's drinking beer with his good-for-nothing friends.

I would recommend a disclaimer at the bottom of this page. Maybe something like:
WARNING: LIFESTYLE HAZARD. Not recommended for children with low self-esteem.

Just a suggestion.

Thanks for listening! By the way, I love your polyester pants. Nobody does elastic waistbands quite as good as J.C. Penney, I always say.

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 1)

2010-10-27T09:28:00.002-05:00

(happy holidays! or not)

Dear J.C. Penney:

I just received your Christmas catalog in the mail. I knew right away that it was a Christmas catalog because it's red and shiny and it says WOW! YIPPEE! and FREE SHIPPING on the front. For me, those are the real sentiments behind the holidays. Yes, sirree. In fact, I bet that is exactly what the three Wise Men said when they reached the Baby Jesus.

WOW! YIPPEE! FREE SHIPPING directly from heaven!

What a heart-warming thought.

I do have a few questions about the catalog, though.

First, I was looking for a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt for my husband, and I noticed this picture of a headless, half-armed man:

I do think it's admirable that you use real-life, developmentally challenged people like this in your catalogs. Really I do. But this might be carrying it a little too far. Perhaps you could Photoshop someone else's head and upper arms onto him next time.

Just a suggestion.

I can't wait to see what's in the toy section of the catalog!

Sincerely,

Lesley

Foreword

2010-10-24T10:13:00.001-05:00

(and so it begins ...)

Someone famous once said, "There's a book in each of us." At least, I think it was someone famous. If I had time, I would look it up. But I have a book to write. You'll have to look it up yourself. Sorry.

Regardless of who said it, or whether it was ever said at all, I think there is indeed a book in each of us. The question is, what is my book? Can I uncover the essence of my story? Can I find the words to tell it?

These are deep, important questions, which bring to mind other deep, important questions such as, Why are there so many keys on my key chain? I was pondering this question just this morning, when I realized that out of the mass of keys I carry around every day, I only recognize 2 of them. There's my car key, the big black one with the red panic button designed to go off automatically if you put the keys in your pocket and then sit down at a fancy, exclusive restaurant with your car parked directly out front so all the fancy, exclusive people are guaranteed to be noticeably perturbed when your lights start flashing and your car emits extremely loud beeping noises until you finally realize, duh, that is my car making all that ruckus and you dig out your keys and shut the stupid thing off.

Then of course, there's my house key. It's the silver one that must at all times be kept right next to the car key so I don't confuse it with the six other practically identical silver ones that have somehow appeared on my key chain even though I have no idea what they are for.

It's a mystery. What doors can these keys open? What vehicles might they start? Who put them on my key chain? What story might they tell?

Which brings me back to my original question. What story might I tell? Can I find enough stories to fill an entire book? If this foreword is any indication, I think I will manage just fine.

Time will tell.

~~~

Letters from my agent (5)

2010-10-21T07:04:00.000-05:00

(it's a good thing i don't discourage easily)

Dear Lesley,

I regret to inform you that Rosetta is no longer employed by Trite & Drivel Publishing Company. She left no forwarding address, she has no cell phone, and her position has not been filled by anyone. In fact, we are no longer accepting submissions of any kind.

Rest assured, we will keep your previous submissions on file. Who knows? Maybe one day there will be a market for a 4-page novel about a scrawny child growing up in Connecticut.

But don't count on it. That was not intended to be encouragement.

Sincerely,

Matilda Crumpetbottom
Secretary

Letters from my agent (4)

2010-10-17T07:02:00.000-05:00

(phooey)

Dear Lesley,

There seems to be a little misunderstanding. I was not referring to you specifically when I said "Success might be just around the corner." That was simply part of my automated signature. Believe me, it had nothing to do with your recent submissions.

Of course, if you dedicate yourself to your writing, success might theoretically be possible at some point. Anything can happen.

In the meantime, please stop lurking in my bushes. Even though you did get rid of the black fedora, I am 99% certain that's you.

Sincerely,
Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Letters from my agent (3)

2010-10-14T06:57:00.000-05:00

(oh shoot.)

Dear Lesley,

My, you are persistent, aren't you?

Once again, I must be honest with you. Calling your book "The # 1 New York Times Best Seller" will not guarantee success. My advice is to buckle down and write, write, write. That's what writers do. my dear! Once you have a plot outline, perhaps an appropriate title will spring to mind.

By the way, do you sometimes wear a black fedora?

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Sincerely,
Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Letters from my agent (2)

2010-10-10T10:30:00.000-05:00

(dang.)

Dear Lesley,

Thank you for sending the alternate titles for your book. However, these titles are all current best-sellers. You will need a title that has not been used before. Perhaps you should concentrate on developing a plot.

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Sincerely,
Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

Letters from my agent

2010-10-08T05:24:00.008-05:00

(oh darn.)

Dear Lesley:

Thank you for your recent query letter. I agree that it is important to have a catchy title for your novel. However, I must tell you I really don't care for "The World Is About To End You Are Doomed If You Don't Read This Book Immediately." Just being honest! That's my job. Try something a little shorter.

Also, you forgot to mention what the plot would be about.

Keep writing! Success might be just around the corner.

Sincerely,
Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent

In conclusion ...

2010-10-07T07:00:00.001-05:00

(my book is well underway ...
now all i need is some stuff to go in the middle)

As the sun began to set behind the Tuscan hills, I put my head on Ramone's strong shoulder and smiled. "Bellissimo," he whispered. "You see that castle in the distance? It's yours. All yours. Happy birthday my darling."

As Oprah shook my hand and leaned in for a hug, I patted her on the back gently. "Don't worry," I said. "The show is in good hands. I'm sure your fans will never forget you." Then I walked to the wardrobe department to choose an outfit for my first episode. The adventure is just beginning!

As the Pulitzer Prize committee smiled and the cheering crowd whipped themselves into a deafening frenzy, I took a final bow and walked off the stage. "Who could have imagined?" I thought to myself. "And it all started with a simple blog."

The end.

~~~

Dedication(s)

2010-10-05T14:06:00.001-05:00

(first things first)

This book is dedicated to my agent, (AGENT'S NAME). Thank you for finally responding to my daily query letters and lifting the restraining order. I hope I have made you proud.

This book is dedicated to Oprah Winfrey, who miraculously picked my book from thousands and thousands of possibilities as the very last Oprah Book Club Selection. You can imagine my amazement when I got the call! I will never forget you, Oprah. Can I have a car, too? No, just kidding. Ha Ha. Say hi to Sophie for me.

This book is dedicated to God, who I am hoping will forgive me for Chapters 4 and 5.

This book is dedicated to my husband, whose wise advice has gone unheeded for more than 30 years. Also my sisters, who hopefully will not be angry that I turned myself into the hero of all our childhood stories. And of course my children, who deeply disappointed me by turning into grownups but subsequently redeemed themselves by becoming my best friends in the entire world.

This book is dedicated to (POET) who once said (SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS AND INSPIRATIONAL). Need I say more?

~~~

I'm writing book. But don't hold your breth.

2010-10-03T11:39:00.006-05:00

(my book so far)

Hello, fellow bloggers who have not yet bothered figuring out how to unfollow my virtually inactive blog! Glad you're still round. I mean Around. I'll explain tht in a sec.

First, my exciting announcement: I finally have an idea for the book I have always thought I should write because let's face it, by the time you get to be my age you just really start to think that you should write a book, especially if every one of your three sisters has beat you to it and written actual published books that are undoubtedly better than anything you could possibly come up with.

So here I go!

But don't hold your breth. I mean breAth.

The main obstacle at the moment is my little yellow Dell, which constantly finds new ways to drive me crazy. This week, the letter "a" is sticking so whenever I need to use it, I have to bash it down with my little pinky finger, interrupting the natural flow of thoughts and totally annoying my pinky finger.

Still. I have an outline written, and even a title. And some of it can just be former blog posts, plopped into the chapters that are conveniently titled "Here's Wht I Think About Such nd Such."

But unfortunately the idea of recycling my blog posts caused me to think, "I should go reread those old posts to see if they're really funny" which caused me after an hour or so of admiring my own funnyness to visit Fran's blog because it's been, like, forever since I've read about her adventures which are way funnier than mine, which of course caused some serious blog hopping (hi Amanda! hi Retired One! I so admire the fact that you guys have been blogging so consistently).

Which of course means I have no time to write my first chapter today.

But soon. I'll strt soon.

~~~

Can you hear me now?

2010-07-13T20:10:00.003-05:00

(i'm SO tired of people telling me i should have bought a mac.
especially because, quite clearly, i should have.)

"Thank you for calling Dell customer service. Your call is important to us, in spite of the fact that we are going to make you listen to MusicThatIsGuaranteedToCureInsomnia for the next 20 minutes. Please hold."

... 20 minutes later ...

Sahib Boyyouarestupidforbuyingadell: (with a strong Indian accent, not to be culturally insensitive, but if you have ever called customer service you know exactly what i mean) Hello? My name is Joe. How can I help you?

Me: Joe? Your name is Joe?

Sahib: You want help with your computer? Or you want more music?

Me: Fine. Joe it is.

Sahib: What seems to be the problem?

Me: Well Joe, my little yellow Dell laptop will not start. Again. It's only two years old, and it has now crashed three times.

Sahib: Do you have your data backed up?

Me: You're going to make me wipe my hard drive clean again, aren't you?!

Sahib: You really should use an external hard drive.

Me: I don't want an external hard drive, I want MY hard drive!

Sahib: I can't help you there. You know, they sell little memory sticks -

Me: I want my pictures! I want my files! I want my laptop to work! Is that too much to ask?

Sahib: Yes ma'am. Way too much. You should have bought a Mac.

Me: grrrrr ......

~~~

Once upon a time, there were two little princesses ...

2010-07-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

(my little princesses)

Have I mentioned lately that I love being a Grandma? I sometimes forget, since today's Grandma bears absolutely no resemblance to the gray haired rocking chair inhabitant the word probably brings to mind.

In fact, today's Grandma probably:

~ Works at a real honest to goodness job, since Grandpa has been laid off and Medicare is years away.

~ Dresses like a relatively normal person, with no crocheted shawls in sight.

~ Would not have any idea how to crochet a shawl, even if she was inclined to wear one, which at this point in time she most definitely is not.

And yet, in spite of her undeniable hipness, today's Grandma holds to some eternal truths:

~ Grandchildren can do no wrong.

~ If they start to act up and glare at Mommy and Daddy like a world-weary 16 year old, they must be tired poor little darlings and they clearly need just one more cookie.

~ And if you somehow forget just how perfect and adorable they are, you simply need to replay the message you have saved on your cell phone which says: "Hewwo? Gamma? I wuv you. I'm wearing my pwincess dwess. Wet me put you on speaker so you can see me."

I wuv my grandbabies. Can you tell?

~~~

Where have you been???

2010-07-06T18:35:00.005-05:00

(this is WAY more impressive than my office building,
which looks like a strip mall in need of some serious prozac)

I am totally an accomplished career woman now. In fact, I barely have time to talk to you before I slip into my stiletto Jimmy Choo heels and clack off to a high-rise office building for an important meeting.

But let's take just a minute to catch up. Here's a sure sign of just how accomplished I am:

This morning, I got up at 5:45 as usual. By 6:45 I had my hair done, makeup on, and a load of towels humming in the washing machine. I even added the fabric softener at just the right time, which I could do blindfolded in my sleep if I ever got any sleep which unfortunately I do not at this particular junction in my long and winding life.

I left for work, did my Tasmanian Devil imitation for 9 hours straight, then drove home.

Upon arriving home, I thought I would put load # 2 into the washing machine ... but lo and behold, load # 1 was still there, with the lid wide open, soaking in the fabric softener for 9 hours straight.

In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, I am truly enjoying life as a working woman.

1. I always did think sleep was a waste of time.
2. I love challenges, even though I complain about them endlessly.
3. I also enjoy complaining endlessly,which probably explains a lot.

And 4. I truly love soft towels.

So life is good.

~~~

10 ways you can tell I am a successful working woman

2010-04-07T19:24:00.004-05:00

(you and me, Mary - two of a kind)

I've been working full time for six weeks now. Six whole weeks. Eight hours a day. In an office.

Are you impressed?

Believe me, after 10 years of working at home, six weeks of full-time work is an amazing feat. But I've got it down now. No biggie. I'm a pro.

Here's how you can tell:

1. I wake up every morning at 5:45, even without my alarm clock.

2. I can pack a lunch, put on makeup, and drive to the office all at the same time.

3. I have a briefcase.

4. Ok, a laptop bag. But it's leather.

5. Even though I never bring it to work.

6. I frequently throw my hat in the air while singing "I'm gonna make it after allllllll."

7. Of course, if you understand that, you are old like me. Which makes it even more amazing that I am working full-time, when I really should be sitting on my front porch rocking my grandbabies.

8. I sometimes wake up at night thinking about projects and deadlines.

9. I also wake up at night for absolutely no good reason.

10. I often end up quite tired at 5:45 in the morning, which became quite clear to me the other morning when I finished my shower (fortunately I was not driving at the time) and realized that I heard water running, which could have been a really bad sign of something like a leak, but turned out to be only the sink which I left running after brushing my teeth and which in about thirty seconds would have been running over onto the floor.

No worries.

I turned off the sink faucet, got dressed, went to work, brought home the bacon, and fried it up in a pan.

I am woman. Hear me snore.

~~~

Happy Easter, Dale Girls

2010-04-04T08:19:00.007-05:00

(easter highlights from the dusty archives of my mind)

1957: Baby Monica is one month old. Parents stubbornly refuse to exchange her for a kitten. Karen and I hold out hope.

1960: Baby Melissa is two months old. No kitten in sight. Easter Sunday means pricking eggs and blowing the goo out, which is great fun, though I can't remember what comes next or why we would do that instead of hard boiling them. Oh well.

1963: I decide that I am an atheist because let's face it, those stories about rainbows and whales and giants getting killed by slingshots are pretty lame. Unfortunately, Dad is the organist and choir director so for the most part I smile and nod my way through Sunday School. Fortunately, nobody asks my opinion. Plus our teacher brings donuts on Easter. So I'm not about to rock the boat.

1964: The "Big Girls" (Karen and me) are now in the children's choir at church. Suddenly, in spite of my theological ambiguity I have a nearly fanatical appreciation for starchy taffeta dresses, frilly hats and shiny patent leather shoes with matching purses.

1968: Dad gives up the choir directing job, and he and mom somehow manage to find an even LAMER church to attend. The new church has a sunrise service on Easter, which is a particularly brilliant idea when you live in Connecticut where the average temperature at the crack of dawn in early spring is, like, 25 degrees. We all stand and shiver and wonder if there will be donuts.

1969: The new church hires a good-looking youth pastor, who leads Sunday evening discussion groups which I find totally fascinating, especially the way his hair waves across his forehead without ever falling into his big brown eyes. Maybe there's something to be said for those Bible stories after all.

Happy Easter, everybody.

Hope you get donuts.

~~~

You don't say

2010-03-30T07:00:00.003-05:00

(it's my turn to talk - but feel free to chime in)

I love getting comments from people on my blogs. It's fun to hear what people think, and to develop new bloggy friendships by commenting back and forth.

I'm having a little trouble relating to a recent commenter on my political blog, however. I'm not sure how to pronounce his or her name, to begin with. I'm a little confused by the comment as well.

Here it is:

念強 said...: 85cc性愛紅爺性愛本土美女性愛免費線上性愛電影性愛補補聊天日本電影火影成人版火影色情片火影忍者a影片火影忍者色片火影忍者做愛片火影忍者影片全集火影漫畫火影影片線上看父女性愛父女做愛父女做愛文學片免費線上成人影片王國女優比基尼圖片比基尼的奶比基尼泳裝美女圖片日本圖貼日本寫真影片日本影片網日本影片線上看日本線上收看日本線上看日本線上無碼日本線上觀看小遊戲下載區視訊美女館交友104速配網情色文學

My first question, without trying to be totally rude, is - what language is this? I'm thinking Japanese.

My second question is, holy cow, how long does is take Japanese children to learn this alphabet? No wonder they have to go to school 6 days a week. It would take me several days just to copy out this message, which probably translates into "You are full of baloney."

And my third question is, why does it include "85cc" at the beginning and "104" near the end? This is truly mystifying.

Perhaps it translates into "85cc of baloney would make more sense than your blog which I will not read ever again in 104 years."

Or perhaps "85cc of sake still did not prepare me for the 104 brilliant points you made in this blog post."

Or perhaps I should enter this into a Japanese-to-English translation website and see what pops up!

Here we go:

Adult shadow one king on watching father woman love father woman 做 love father woman 做 love sentence 學 one exemption expense line on this electric shadow light adult edition light lust one light ninja a shadow one light ninja color one light ninja 做 love one light ninja shadow one complete works light 漫畫 light shadow one line of eros electric shadow eros assistant assistant 聊 sun on 85cc eros crimson pop eros mainland beauty eros exemption expense line 國 actress ratio basic nun 圖 one ratio basic nun 奶 ratio basic nun swimming 裝 beauty 圖 one Japan 圖貼 Japan 寫 on watching Japanese line on true shadow one Japanese shadow one net Japanese shadow one lineNothing on watching Japanese line on 收 watching Japanese line 碼 under 觀 watching small playing 戲 on the Japanese line 載區 apparent 訊 beauty mansion friend 104 fast distribution net feeling color sentence 學

Alrighty then. That explains it. Any comments?

~~~

A very good day

2010-03-28T15:09:00.008-05:00

(dat's julia? she came to see me?)

Mommy and Daddy kept telling me about this Julia person. She was living in mommy's tummy. This meant I was gonna be a big sister. Whatever that is.

We waited for Julia for a long long long time. Whoever she is, she's very slow.

Finally they said she was here! Come on! Let's skip down the hallway! We should yell so she knows we are coming!

Aww, she's pretty cute. Everybody likes her.

She even bought me a present! And mommy's hospital room had this super cool chair for me to play in.

Julia likes to sleep a lot ...

but as soon as everybody turns their backs, I have big plans for her.

~~~

Nine to Five

2010-02-28T12:29:00.005-06:00

(subtitle: how to start a new job, suddenly become totally incompetent, and buy nothing new)

Whew. My first week at the new job is over. It will get easier from here, right? Not that it was a bad week. It just had a lot of hours in it.

Here's what I learned this week:

1. If you go to the front door, which is locked, and stand there looking like a dope for 10 minutes, the security guard will eventually come open the door for you.

2. The normal people all use the back door.

3. Even if you only live 10 minutes from your office, you do not have enough time to drive home, enjoy a leisurely lunch, put your feet up, get a little fresh air, recharge your mind, and return to work.

4. You may if you are quick like a bunny have time to drive home, frantically throw together a grilled cheese sandwich, eat it standing up, and return to work.

5. The normal people all eat at their desks.

6. If you have been doing a job for ten years, do not assume that you know how to do that job. There are helpful tools nowadays such as "project management software" that add a whole new dimension to your day, causing you to receive emails every 15 seconds which require your urgent immediate attention and prompting three or four hundred visits to your project manager's office to ask intelligent questions such as "So, is a job folder, like, an online folder, or is it actually a folder folder?"

And last but not least -

7. It is possible to go from slouchy, unkempt freelancer to stylish, snappy office worker without buying anything new. But only if you have a stylish, snappy sister who wears the same size and who is a fabulous eBay shopper and who is willing to pack up a box of cute outfits and ship them to you. Thanks Monica!!!!!

Only 477 weeks till I can retire ... but who's counting?

~~~

I've really done it now

2010-02-19T20:12:00.003-06:00

(seriously? you want me to wear these? every day?)

Well, I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later.

After all, my hobby is sending out resumes. I think it's fun to write cover letters. And my bookmarks include careerbuilder.com, monster.com, jobsfordesperatepeople.com, and getajobyoupatheticloser.com.

So it only makes sense that one day I would find my way to the jobs section of craigslist. Lo and behold, there was a job listing for a writer in Plano Texas. Hey! I'm a writer! And hey! I live 5 minutes from Plano!

The job was at a financial marketing company. Hey! I write financial marketing projects!

I figured "financial marketing" was probably a pseudonym for "shady debt collection" or "fly by night payday lending" ... but what the heck. I sent off a resume.

A few hours later I got a reply.

Two days later I had an interview, at a definitely non-shady, non-fly-by-night marketing company.

A week later I had a job.

A job. Wow. Nine to five. An office of my own. Health insurance.

I start on Tuesday. Gulp.

I will probably be blogging less frequently, but I'll still be around. I definitely need to know what Fran has been eating on the bus, who Amanda has run into at the park, what Joan found in her local police reports, what Rae has found to rant about, and how Cyndi is making the world a better place.

I'm thinking I may need more than an hour for lunch. I hope that won't be a problem.

I'll keep you posted.

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: The End

2010-02-18T07:00:00.001-06:00

Finalissimo! We have reached the last stop on our fabulous 10-day CTCS tour of Italy!

Here we are in the amazing city of Venice, where you can drown while crossing the street, unlike the rest of Italy where you are much more likely to simply be run over by a motorbike.

Fortunately, by the time we got to Venice we had completed our singing schedule so the nice Venetian people did not have to endure one more rendition of Glory Hallelujah Sing My Praises As Loud As You Possibly Can.

I loved Italy, but I was ready to go home.

I was a little tired of thick black coffee that tasted like motor oil.

I was a little tired of being told "This way! Andiamo! Hurry, lazy Americans! Only six museums and ten cathedrals today! Look up! The art work is all on the ceiling! Hurry! Hurry!"

I was even a little tired of my charming roommate Lillian, who by this point had told me her amazing life story involving a wealthy husband who fell one day while shoveling snow in the driveway and suffered permanent brain damage requiring her to be a caretaker at a very young age until he mercifully died and left her the mansion and all his earthly possessions.

I wasn't sure if any of this was true, but it definitely made a great story.

We had a great time, Lillian and me. Especially when the choir wasn't singing.

... and now, I will leave you with a few more pictures and a little reminder:

When in Rome, do as the Romans do ...

Drink wine

Eat pasta

Look fabulous at all times

And break into song whenever you feel the urge, unless you are part of the CTCS in which case you really should just look up and enjoy the scenery.

Ciao!

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 9

2010-02-17T07:00:00.001-06:00

By now you are surely getting weary of my travels. I know I was. But we are almost finished with our off-key tour of the lovely Italian countryside.

Just a few more stops.

We went to Pompeii ...

To Pisa ...

To Florence, where I bought a lovely gold necklace ...

To Assisi, where they loved our rendition of Seventy-Six Trombones (by this time I was pretty adept at the organ, though it was awfully hard to oom-pah with all that reverb going on) ...

... and then we arrived in Venice, our final stop ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 8

2010-02-15T07:00:00.000-06:00

By the time we arrived in Capri, I was ready for some R & R. I was quite exhausted from arguing with the Vatican organist, and I was tired of running around corners and hiding in little shops whenever the choir would burst into song.

Which was quite often.

Capri was lovely. Warm and flower-ful.

Here are some pictures :

Isn't that gorgeous? I really want to go back.

... then we traveled north again ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 7

2010-02-13T07:00:00.000-06:00

Oh my gosh, how could I forget the Vatican? Silly me. Let's back up.

When we first got to Italy, we spent a few days in Rome. We saw the Spanish Steps, the Crumbly Colosseum, pickpockets of all ages, and several hundred hideous statues.

But the highlight was our trip to The Vatican.

We were scheduled to sing in St. Peter's Basilica, and we had heard that The Pope Himself might be on site. Goodness gracious.

We were, of course, planning to sing Mr. Director's original composition, Magnificent Glorious Hallelujah I Sure Am Talented In Excelsis Deo. Everyone was quite excited.

Except me.

I knew that St. Peter's Basilica would have a huge, imposing, phenomenal pipe organ for me to play. The only problem is, I had never played an organ in my life.

I'm a piano player. A pretty good one. But I had told Mr. Director quite clearly, several times, that I do not play the organ. My feet and my hands simply do not cooperate with each other. Feet or hands. Choose one. Can't do both.

Sure enough, we arrived at St. Peter's and there was a rug hanging from the window indicating that The Pope was in the building. There was also a gigantic organ. Gulp.

The choir took their places. The director stood at the podium. And me? I was off to the side, arguing with the organist.

Me: You do it. Really. Here's the music.

Him: Prego. Argobargoandiamocrazyamerican.

Me: I can't. I'm sorry. Please.

Him: Prego. Prego. Issabissayourmusica.

Me: Gotta go. Carry on. I'll be over here hiding behind a pillar.

... and then we headed south ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 6

2010-02-11T07:00:00.003-06:00

Are you getting tired of my Italy story? I hope not. Cuz I have 4 more installments to go.

We are now in the lovely city of Siena. And we are in luck! Tonight, in the town square, is the Palio. This is a famous horse race which I have never heard of but which sounds like a lot of fun.

My roommate Lillian and I are good friends by now, even though she has turned out to be even quirkier than I feared and she is indeed at least 100 years older than me. So we decide to go into town after dinner to see what this Palio is all about.

Tra la la, here we go walking down the cobblestone streets when out of nowhere, wow! here comes a horse followed by about 50 people waving flags and singing songs. Very festive and Italian! Arrivederci ciao andiamo cabernet ola! We follow them into town.

When we reach the town square, we discover that it has been roped off like a race track, with hundreds of people in the middle of the square and hundreds more in bleachers all around the sides.

There is nowhere for Lillian and me to go, so we stand in the middle of the track.

Soon a nice policeman appears and lets us know that the race is about to start. Which means, unless we move, we are about to be trampled.

We thank the policeman and find a spot to stand underneath an arched doorway. We notice ambulances parked off to the side and try not to be alarmed by this. The horses go around and around, the crowd cheers, people sing their Palio songs, and it's time to go back to the hotel.

But uh oh, we have forgotten which arched doorway we used to enter the town square. Oh well. All of the arched doorways should lead to the same place, right?

Wrong.

Lillian and I start wandering the dark, maze-like streets of Siena. We wander and wander. We wonder as we wander. Will we ever find our way out? We go in circles, squares, and figure eights. We come to a dead end at a military base guarded by an armed guard who does not seem particularly happy to make our acquaintance.

We somehow, I have no idea how, miraculously, only by the grace of God, just when I thought I would never see my children again, find our way back to the hotel.

... but wait! I forgot to tell you about the Vatican ...

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 5

2010-02-09T07:00:00.001-06:00

(we made it! yes this is me, umpteen years ago, with my fashionable fanny-pack)

There are many, many amazing places to see in Italy. We saw them all in 10 days flat.

Unfortunately for the people of Italy, we also sang in most of them.

The very first night that we were there, the entire choir ate at a charming little restaurant. When the wait staff learned that we were singers (in the loosest possible sense of the word), they offered to sing for us.

Lo and behold, they launched into a gorgeous melody with lovely Italian lyrics, full 4-part harmony and a sweet tone that echoed off the stone walls.

When they were finished, the director stood up and motioned for the choir to stand. I shrank down in my seat and pretended not to know them.

"Let'sh shing the Italian nashional anthem," proclaimed Mr. Director, who had just polished off several glasses of wine after consuming at least 27 drinks during our 27-hour airline ordeal.

The wait staff smiled and waited with anticipation.

Then the singing began.

The wait staff raised their eyebrows and looked at each other in bewilderment. Clearly they did not know their own national anthem. Amazing.

Or maybe they just didn't recognize it. Ya think?

... then we went to Siena, where I was nearly trampled to death by horses ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 4

2010-02-07T07:00:00.000-06:00

(how to turn a 9 hour flight into a 27 hour ordeal)

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Northwest Flight 666! We will be making a quick stop in Boston, and then it's on to beautiful Rome, Italy.

I understand we have a choir on board - no, no, don't start singing - please take your seats. Please. We all heard you singing in the airport. Just sit back and relax. We'll be leaving shortly.

... an hour later ...

Ladies and gentlemen, we do apologize for the slight delay. It looks like we're ready to go now!

(the plane begins to back up, makes an alarming grinding sound, and rolls to a stop)

... an hour later ...

Well, we have word from the cockpit that our engine problem is all fixed! Fine and dandy. Nothing to worry about. However, our legal department has asked me to inform you that you do have the option of leaving the plane if you are at all uncomfortable with the idea of flying with a refurbished engine.

Plus I have these little waivers for you to sign.

And by the way we've already missed our connection. But nothing to worry about!! Que sera, sera!

... 3 hours later ...

We are about to begin our descent into Boston. Please prepare for landing. Good news! We have plenty of seats available on our 8 pm flight to Dublin, and then it will just be a hop skip and a jump to Rome!

... long wait ... long flight to Dublin ... another long wait in the extremely cold Dublin airport in the middle of the freaking night .... long flight to Rome ...

... and then the tour began ...

~~~

Short Choir Break to Buy Nothing New and Change the World

2010-02-05T05:00:00.000-06:00

(would this make a cute card or what?)

Our eager but tone-deaf choir is now on the way to Italy (or are they?) - so I am taking a short break to provide my Friday updates.

The BNNY year is going well, aided considerably by the fact that it has been cold and rainy and I rarely leave the house anyway so nobody cares if my favorite jeans are becoming alarmingly threadbare in strategic areas.

My total savings for the year is already over $300. Wow.

This week's Change The World Wednesday Challenge was a little more challenging. (Visit Reduce Footprints to see what this fun weekly challenge is all about!)

The challenge sounded simple: Use an online card company to send somebody an e-card.

Sure, no problem! Piece of cake!

I scooted right over to BlueMountain.com, since Blue Mountain has been very encouraging about my attempts at writing paper greeting cards. But I couldn't register for their service because my computer was eating cookies. Or blocking cookies. Or something.

Then I tried 123Greetings.com, where I was lacking a plug-in so I couldn't hear the funny music playing while the nearly-nude old geezer danced with a "Happy Birthday" heart plastered on his butt. Without the music, it was just really disturbing.

Hallmark.com wants 10 bucks a year for the privilege of sending e-cards.

eCards.com wants 12.

DaySpring.com wants 20!

Holy moly, I didn't think this would be so difficult.

What I'd really love to find is an online e-card service where I could insert my own photos, like the adorable one above! But so far, no luck. I did try Reduce Footprint's recommendation, Care2 Cards, which is a terrific website with great pictures (though not quite as adorable as mine) and no annoying annual fees.

So - one more vote for Care2 Cards! Give them a try!

... and now, back to Italy ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 3

2010-02-04T07:00:00.000-06:00

(hold on! don't crumble! i'm coming!)

I was very super excited about going to Italy with The CTCS. They promised to pay my way, as well as my husband's way! Wow!

Then they changed their minds. They would only pay my way. But they would give me single, private hotel rooms. Yay!

Then they changed their minds again. They had a roommate for me. I'll call her Lillian, since that was her real name and there is no chance on earth that she will ever read this. Lillian was approximately 100 years older than me. And a little quirky.

But hey, who cares! I was going to Italy! For free!

Hubby drove me to the airport one morning in June, a little concerned because I would be flying off for 10 days without him. Also without our 3 kids. Also without leaving individually wrapped meals in the freezer. Or detailed instructions. Or Prozac.

But hey, it was his turn! Tough luck! I was going to Italy!

The nice President of the choir and his nice wife assured Hubby that they would take good care of me. They would make sure I was on their bus, and at their table for dinners, and right by their side for the sight-seeing tours. They lied. They never came within 100 feet of me and Lillian during the entire trip.

But hey, I'm a big girl! It's ok! I was going to Italy!

... and then we boarded the plane ...

~~~

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 2

2010-02-03T07:00:00.000-06:00

(uh-one and uh-two and uh-seven and uh-twelve)

Open your music packets, everyone! Quiet down now.

As you can see, I have carefully selected some classic songs for our European jaunt. After all, we will be singing in famous cathedrals and quaint churches and even The Vatican!

Here is our repertoire:
(I kid you not)

Seventy-Six Trombones - I bet the Italians have never heard this performed with a giant pipe organ before!

The Impossible Dream - Which should probably be our theme song.

The Italian National Anthem - Which we will sing everywhere we go, even though nobody in the choir knows how to pronounce any of the words.

Glorious Sparkly Whoop De Doo Hallelujah Song - An original composition by me, no no hold your applause, oh you are too kind, no really I think genius is too strong a term, but yes let's work on this one over and over and over and over. Sparkle while you sing it! And remember, louder is better!

... and then we went home to pack ...

The Choir That Couldn't Sing: Part 1

2010-02-01T07:00:00.002-06:00

("there once was a church choir that was not ill-bred,
but i have forgotten where it is" - Mark Twain)

There once was a choir that could not sing. It was quite a large choir, about 80 or 90 people. It was not a church choir. It was affiliated with one of the large auto companies in Michigan, back in the days when there WERE large auto companies in Michigan.

They were super nice people. They hired me to play piano for them, and they paid my way for a 10-day tour of Italy.

I really can't complain!

But I can tell you the story.

First, you are probably wondering why they couldn't sing. They really tried. They rehearsed every week. But, to put it as kindly as I can, they had a director who didn't know how to direct.

And so, as a result, they didn't know how to sing.

Here's how choirs behave when they are left to their own devices:

1. The sopranos sing as loudly as they can. After all, they have the melody! They are the most important section in the entire choir.

2. The altos sing as loudly as they can. After all, they read music and hence sing only the correct notes. They are the most important section in the entire choir.

3. The basses sing as loudly as they can. After all, their deep tones anchor the harmonies. They are the most important section in the entire choir.

4. The tenors, not surprisingly, also sing as loudly as they can. They mean well, but they just don't know any better. When not singing loudly, they are generally making trouble and telling jokes about the director. They are under no illusions about being the most important section. They just want to have fun.

... and then we received our packet of music for Italy ...

~~~

Uh oh. I'm getting more ideas.

2010-01-30T06:11:00.008-06:00

(who needs new clothes?
god created raggedy sweatpants for a reason)

Hey, I've discovered another way to save money, thanks to CouponMom.com. They match up the weekly grocery store specials with online or newspaper coupons. Cool. Yesterday we saved $27, which is like $26.50 more than I usually save.

I also met Laura, a blogger who is Eating In For A Year, which I could totally do with one small exception. You'll be hearing more from Laura soon.

Next thing you know I'll be baking my own bread from shredded styrofoam plates which I no longer use never ever for my English muffins. Come to think of it, in the summer I could bake it outside on the sidewalk, without turning on the oven ...

I need to stop thinking for a while now. Have a great weekend!
Toodle oo!

~~~

How to lose weight by buying nothing new

2010-01-29T07:00:00.001-06:00

(me)

Don't hate me, but I am a teeny tiny person. Always have been. I probably weigh about as much as a typical 4th grader, or a typical 4-year-old if we're talking about Texas children.

No offense, if you are a 4-year-old Texas child.

Even teeny tiny people tend to put on a little weight as the years go by. And sure enough, I tried to put on some old jeans last week and they were way too small. This is not good. After all, I'm not buying anything new this year - so I have to work with what I've already got.

What should I do? Here are my choices:

1. Cut back on potato chips, peanuts, and melted cheese, which believe it or not are my three favorite foods. I am living proof that weight and cholesterol are sometimes related to dumb luck, not diet.

2. Cut out the laziness and start exercising. I actually attempted this a few years ago. Hubby and I joined a gym, hired a personal trainer, and started working out 4 or 5 days a week. It was really fun until Hubby threw his back out, I developed sciatica, and American Idol Season 6 started up and I just had to find out whether Sanjaya really had a chance, whether Melinda Doolittle really had a neck and whether Blake Lewis was really a human being because really, how can he possibly make those noises and sing at the same time? Really. I had to know.

3. Cut off the waistbands of my too tight jeans and sew on an ultra-attractive elastic band, which would give me lots of leeway and would probably be pretty comfortable, as well. I'm kind of leaning towards this strategy.

~~~

P.S. - Thought you might like to see my latest eBay buys! These are both "Free People" sweaters, which I picked up for about 1/4 of the original price. Boo ya.

~~~

My blogging days are over

2010-01-26T06:32:00.004-06:00

(if my brain was a box ...)

I am super-dee-duper excited about writing TWO guest posts on two fabulous blogs!

First, my quirkly little bloggy friend Amanda (she's from San Francisco. enough said.) asked for volunteers to write about random topics, which she then strung together to make a story. You can read it here, but just keep in mind, (a) Amanda's blog is sometimes rated R though thank God she does not include pictures and (b) I do NOT ogle myself in a tiny mirror at dinner parties. The part about my hair is true, though.

Second, I wrote a little story about my BNNY Year for Reduce Footprints, a terrific blog with information, activities and links to help us all be a little kinder to the earth.

So, the media blitz is on!

I'm all over the Internet!

I have some new followers - welcome, welcome!

I even got a comment in Japanese yesterday! Clearly the world is watching.

Y'all are sitting there with your morning coffee, waiting for me to say something funny.

And suddenly my brain is completely empty. I'm tongue-tied. Or I guess that would be finger-tied. I'm afraid my blog is doomed.

Go ahead.

Move along.

There's nothing to see here.

Of course, I haven't told you about my new weight-loss discovery, have I?

And I do need to fill you in on how I toured Italy with a choir that couldn't sing.

And Fran did a really funny post the other day that I am planning on stealing when she turns her back so if any of you live in England could you give her a call and ask her out for coffee?

Check back with me in a couple of days. I'm pretty sure I'll have something to talk about.

~~~

Changing the world, one Wednesday at a time

2010-01-22T07:00:00.000-06:00

(hug a tree. you know you want to.)

I kind of enjoy change. Except when it involves pain, agonizing choices, or packing and unpacking boxes.

This year, for me, it's all about changing my perspective - especially when it comes to my buying habits. Not that long ago (just last month, in fact) if I needed something new to read I would simply go to Amazon.com, pull up my five-page Wish List, and select at least $25 worth of books so I could qualify for FREE Super Saver Shipping!!! (some restrictions apply)

Then I would browse through the helpful recommendations that Amazon compiled exclusively for me, replenish my Wish List for next time, skip over to the Toys & Games department to see if there are any new toys I must must must buy for the grandbaby, hunt around the Gourmet Food section just for the heck of it, and then look up recipes using Hawaiian Black Lava Salt, which sounds very intriguing but looks like little black pebbles in a jar.

It was all quite time-consuming.

But very easy.

So now, since I'm buying nothing new this year, I simply printed out my Wish List. I carry it in my purse in case my car is magnetically drawn to either the library or Half Price Books (a local book resale shop).

That's easy too!

"But what does this have to do with Wednesdays" you may be wondering, if you even remember the title of my post after all this rambling. Well, I'll tell you. I discovered a terrific website called Reduce Footprints that issues a weekly challenge called Change The World Wednesdays.

This week's challenge is to only use reusable mugs/coffee cups/glasses. That's super easy for me, since I have no life and rarely leave the house. I'll bring a travel mug to church on Sunday (our church has a fabulous coffee bar - I love a church that smells like coffee!!).

Easy!

In fact, I'll also stop using styrofoam plates for my English muffin in the mornings. Awful habit, I know. Sorry.

I'll do better - one baby footprint at a time.

~~~

The Hit Parade

2010-01-20T07:00:00.000-06:00

(are they adorable or WHAT??)

Back in the days when the cave drawings were just beginning to dry, popular music was going through a revolution.

popular music? like hip hop?

Not exactly. In those days, if you said "hip hop" to a friend, they would say "mother may I?". No, I'm talking about the early, early days of rock and roll.

you mean you were alive back then? how old ARE you, anyway?

Never you mind. But yes, I was there. I remember watching The Beatles on Ed Sullivan. They were so cute, and their music was so unique.

yeah, like elevator music

And their hair was so long! We all thought it was scandalous.

oh my lord. you ARE old. so you rushed to itunes to download their songs?

Well, no. We didn't have iTunes back then.

you rushed to the store to buy their cd's?

Nope. No CDs either.

so how did you listen to their music then?

We bought records. You know, 78's or 45's or 33's.

huh?

Round. Black. Hard plastic. Put them on a turntable and lower the needle. But you had to be careful to lower it gently, or the record would scratch and then it would skip in the same spot over and over, like our Amahl And The Night Visitors record that had the three kings singing "We must not lose sight of our, not lose sight of our, not lose sight of our -

right! okay! records. got it. um, i need to go floss my teeth now. but thanks for the music history lesson.

No problem. I think I'll go check the value of my Beatles collection on eBay. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to retire after all.

~~~

How to learn Italian without buying anything new

2010-01-16T13:33:00.005-06:00

(italy: land of a thousand hideous statues)

I went to Italy twelve years ago, with a choir (I was the accompanist). It was a very funny choir, and a very funny trip. I'll be sure and tell you about it some time!

While I was there, I became quite fluent in Italian. I knew how to say "good morning" and "how much does this cost" and "more wine please." Impressive, I know.

Unfortunately, that was a long time ago and my brain has deleted all of my vast Italian vocabulary to make room for more important information such as Smokey The Bear's new slogan, my new address, and the PIN number for the new ATM card I had to get because my husband's identity was stolen. Another story I'll be sure to tell you about.

So, anyway, I bring up all this because I have always wanted to really know how to speak Italian. Since I am not buying anything new this year, I went to eBay to see if I could find a used instructional CD. Nolo lucko.

So THEN, and I completely realize that this post is getting way too long for a subject that is totally irrelevant to anyone's life except my own, I got the bright idea of going to the library!

And guess what?

The librarian told me I didn't even need to search their shelves, I could just go to their website and download an audio book on How To Speak Italian!

How cool is that?

They have this entire online downloadable section with tons and tons of stuff available including audio books, ebooks, videos (the top ten list, believe it or not, includes The Adventures of Long John Silver and Old Texas & The Trail Drivers) and music.

All free!

So the moral of this long and boring story is, if you want to be sure you order peach ice cream and not fish ice cream the next time you visit Italy, because I don't remember what the Italian words are for "peach" and "fish" but I'm pretty sure they are very similar, go to your local library's website!

Let me know what you find. I'll be here listening to Learn Italian In Forty-Seven Easy Lessons You Lazy American It's About Time You Learned Our Language Since You Expect Us All To Know Yours.

Ciao!

~~~

How to eBay shop till you drop

2010-01-15T07:00:00.005-06:00

Ebay shopping is super fun! Here is how it works:

1. Log on to www.ebay.com and browse around the clothing sections for hours and hours. And hours.

2. Find something you like.

3. Wait until shortly before the auction is up, so you can swoop in and score a bargain.

4. Try to buy your item, and succeed only in bumping up the price without actually bidding high enough to win the auction.

5. Worry briefly that the other bidders will be mad about your swooping and bumping since they have been patiently bidding for the past 5 days.

6. Continue swooping, bumping and aggravating the other bidders until you finally win an item! Woo hoo! You won! When was the last time you went shopping and WON something at the same time?? This is fun!

7. Wait for your item to arrive in the mail, hoping all the while that (a) it will fit, (b) you will like it, and (c) you won't discover that another bidder has won the same item in another auction for a lower price which would definitely take some of the glory out of your thunderous swoopy bumpy win.

8. Go back to step 1 and repeat the process ... until you drop! Or until your husband threatens to put your little yellow laptop on eBay. Whichever comes first.

~~~

So far, as you can see in the side bar, I have saved $40 on clothing by shopping eBay instead of WillowBend Only Shop Here If You Drive A Mercedes Mall. Hubby and I also bought a used set of french doors for our TV room instead of buying new ones. I'll tell you about that next week!

So far so good.

~~~

This isn't supposed to happen

2010-01-12T10:10:00.007-06:00

Usually the weather in Dallas looks like this:

Which makes me smile, like this:

But lately, the temperature has done this:

Which made our pool get all icy on top, like this!

Which made me feel like this:

But which, I must admit, is still a heckuvalot better than this, which is the view from my office window when we lived in Michigan:

So I guess I can't complain. Too much.

~~~

How to shop till you drop without buying anything new

2010-01-08T07:00:00.002-06:00

(little shopper in training ...
remember, darlin' - never pay full price!)

As you may already know, my New Year's resolution is to go a whole year without buying anything new.

Why would I do that? Well, it's sort of an experiment to see, first of all, what types of challenges that will present, and second, how much money I spend mindlessly on a regular basis.

I have always used shopping as a recreational activity. In fact, over the years I developed a variety of shopping techniques:

Therapy Shopping - Y'all know what this is. Come on, admit it.

Inventory Assessment - Some call this window shopping. My title makes it sound more worthwhile, don't you think?

Stealth Shopping - This technique is for the periods just before the really super duper sales begin, such as late January when the Stealth Shopper knows the stores will soon be desperate to clear out the winter stuff. She scours the sale racks for cute items, hides them amongst items of a different size, and returns in a week or so to score a big bargain. Not that *I* would ever do this.

Full Price Shopping - Don't do this! Ever! You will regret it immediately, because the next day, guaranteed, you will see a sales ad in the paper with the item you just bought marked down 50%. Then when you go back to the store, full-price item in hand, to demand your 50% refund, you will realize that you accidentally brought the wrong receipt and the snooty saleswoman will inform you that she cannot issue a refund if all you have is a crinkled receipt from Target for three bargain bin movies, a can of coffee and two bottles of wine. So sorry.

And now, this week, I've been working on perfecting a whole new category of shopping! (drum roll please) ....

Ebay Shopping - This is surprisingly fun! I will tell you all about it next week. Hopefully I will have actually succeeding in buying something by then. In the meantime, I am very busy shopping. But not buying. And definitely not buying anything new. Of course, the year is young.

~~~

and then she was gone ... conclusion

2010-01-07T07:00:00.008-06:00

She came home at the end of the summer, though it was definitely a good news/bad news kind of thing.

The good news, of course, was that Mom was home and we could stop making agonizing trips to New Haven with plastic smiles on our faces, sitting around tables for "family therapy" sessions which gave us absolutely zero insight into what the heck was going on.

The bad news was that the manic-depression thing came home with her. And after months of flying high, she had crashed to earth.

She did bring pills with her, which might have been helpful if she wasn't so suspicious of them.

~~~

Me: Mom? Whatcha doing?

Mom: An experiment.

Me: What's in the coffee cup?

Mom: I'm just going to try something.

Me: Um, why are you pouring that into the spider plant?

Mom: You just wait. In a few days that plant will be dead. Mark my words.

~~~

This was the beginning of the new "normal" for our family.

Everyone has a story. If you simply ask who they are, or what their life has been like, that story will come to mind. They may choose not to tell it. Usually it's not easy to tell. But it's their story.

I wish I could end this story by telling you how that strange summer so long ago made me a better person, and taught me some profound life lessons. But mostly we all just got through it, and did the best that we could, and learned that you never know what life has in store. You could be calling the President one day, and poisoning your spider plant the next. You could bumble along thinking that you know your loved ones, and turn around to discover that they have suddenly disappeared.

You never know.

Everyone has a story. This is mine.

Thanks for listening.

~~~

and then she was gone ... part two

2010-01-06T07:00:00.004-06:00

Where had she gone? I really had no idea.

One minute Mom was outside talking to her piano student's mom, getting more and more agitated about something or other, and the next thing we all knew she was whisked away. What the heck?

Looking back on it, maybe we should have known something was up.

Mom was always passionately involved with one thing or another: the PTA, the League of Women Voters, faculty dinner parties, Dad's concerts. But lately she had been passionately, fervently, feverishly working on a proposal for an Institute Of The Arts.

~~~

Me: Hi Mom. Whatcha doing?

Mom: Just outlining some ideas.

Me: Did you want some breakfast?

Mom: No no I need to keep this train of thought going, I've been up all night writing this down exactly the way God is revealing it to me, it's a seamless idea I don't know why it hasn't been synthesized by anyone before this but it's truly the only natural, organic, artistic, comprehensible way for children to learn. I need to go call the President now.

Me: Um, sure. Go for it. See you after school.

~~~

Like I said, maybe we should have had a clue. But she was very much herself, just kind of wound up a little too tight. And then she was gone.

Turns out Dad had pulled some strings, and checked her into a Yale New Haven Hospital ward called T-One. Over the next few months we would come to hate the sound of it.

T-One.

It was a mental health ward for crazy people, and we all knew it.

Mom had slipped over the edge from eccentric-but-you-have-to-excuse-her-because-she's-a-musician into the world of pretty-much-completely-out-of-her-mind.

She told me much later that while we were all at home scratching our heads and going "what the heck happened to mom?" she was standing in a hospital room trying to comply with the doctor's simple request to count backwards from 100. She couldn't do it.

Her mind was racing a mile a minute.

She was convinced that God was directing her to do something big, something colossal, something that would change the world.

She couldn't sleep, eat, or sit still for more than a few seconds at a time.

She was in a locked ward with cold linoleum floors, sterile white walls and a bewildering diagnosis: manic-depression.

She was gone, but surely the doctors would cure her. Surely there were pills that would help. Surely she would be back, and everything would go back to normal.

~~~

(one more installment to come ... )

and then she was gone ... part one

2010-01-04T07:00:00.003-06:00

It was a lovely Spring afternoon, a long long time ago. How long ago? Let's see ... I had recently turned 16, and I am now so totally old, my childhood toys are listed on eBay under "Antiquities," my favorite elementary school lunchbox is a collector's item, and my husband and I recently set up an estate plan. That's how long ago it was.

My sisters and I were all home from school, hiding away upstairs while Mom gave piano lessons. Argh. Excruciating half-hour segments, with hopeless little musical hacks playing "The Bear Dance" and "Soaring" and "Pretty Ballerinas" over and over and over.

~~~

Mom: "That should be a G-sharp, dear."

Hopeless Little Hack: "G-sharp? What's a G-sharp?"

Mom: "Right here, sweetheart."

HLH: "Are we done yet? Mummy says we can go get ice cream when we're done."

Mom: "Not yet. Twenty-nine and a half minutes to go. Let's try it again!"

~~~

God. We all rolled our eyes and slammed our doors and swore we would do ANYthing to avoid EVER becoming a piano teacher.

When the last lesson was over, Mom went out to talk with Little Hack's mother. The usual conversation would go something like this:

LHMom: "How is she doing?"

Mom: "Oh, just fine! A little more practice, and she'll be on her way!"

LHMom: "Well, good! We're off to get ice cream!"

Mom: "Toodle-oo!"

But on this strange Spring morning, the conversation was more like this:

LHMom: "How is she doing?"

Mom: "I'm a little concerned. Children in general just are not realizing the full potential of the global vision of the artistic generalization that should be fully blossoming in their lives if they only had the potentialization of the globality of that artistic visionalization. Don't you agree? Don't you? Don't you?"

It was right around the third "don't you" when dad sent Sister # 1 out to get her.

... and then she was gone

(to be continued) ...

~~~

BNNY Year Resolutions

2010-01-01T07:00:00.002-06:00

(i love making new year's resolutions. especially for other people.)

Texas drivers really need to be nicer to me in 2010. Our politicians need to get along and get something done, for Pete's sake. And my hubby needs to resolve to be more patient when we play Scrabble, especially when I get both the blanks plus "s-t-i-n-g" and he has "a-a-o-u-i-c-v" which happens quite often but is clearly not my fault, even if I do gloat and brag and snicker about it.

In fairness, I suppose I should make some resolutions for myself. So what would I like to accomplish during this special Buy-Nothing-New Year?

1. I resolve to think, however briefly, about each purchase I make this year. Is there a way to buy this item used? Could I make do with what I already have? Can I simplify my life and reduce my carbon footprint? Will this drive me absolutely crazy by the end of January? Will anyone notice that I am crazier than before? Will I ever get to resolution # 2?

2. (Whew. Finally got here.) I resolve to think less about my blogging "audience" and more about what I really want to say.

3. I resolve to write a chapter of a book. Writing a whole entire book is way too overwhelming. But I think I could write one chapter.

And 4. I resolve to continue beating my hubby at Scrabble every chance I get. It's my little way of helping him become a better person. (you're welcome, hun!)

Happy New Year!

~~~

New Year's Resolutions For Texas Drivers

2009-12-29T15:08:00.006-06:00

(would someone please explain to me what this bumper sticker even means?)

It's that time of year, when everybody makes silly New Year's Resolutions.

Save more money? Why bother? Lose 10 pounds? What the heck for? If we have another decade like this one, we'll all be broke and depressed in no time. So why add to your woes by going on a diet?

Instead of the usual trite ideas, I have come up with some new resolutions that will make life better for all of us. Or at least, if my fellow Texans will follow them, they will make life better for me.

Please recite along with me:

1. I resolve to stop driving like a moron. If Lesley puts on her turn signal and wants to come into my lane, I will NOT speed up, block the lane, and glare at her as if she just called me a Democrat.

2. I resolve to buy a normal size car instead of an SUV the size of a Winnebago or a pick-up truck that can hold my horse.

3. I resolve to stay home when it snows. Or rains. In fact, as soon as I spot a cloud in the sky I will head home and stay there.

And 4. I resolve to take all of the stupid bumper stickers off my vehicle. Everyone in all of the other 49 states understands that a $50,000 Infiniti should NOT have a cheesy "Secede Or Die" bumper sticker on the back. I now understand this, as well.

Thank you Lesley (you are still reciting along with me, right?) ... I resolve to read your blog every day! And recommend it to all my friends! And - oh, what's that? You stopped reciting a long time ago? Well, happy New Year anyway. And remember, when driving in Texas, watch out for the other guy. He sure as heck won't be watching out for you.

~~~

Merry Christmas

2009-12-23T07:04:00.005-06:00

I wish you love ...

joy ...

and peace on earth ...

Merry Christmas.

~~~

How to not get a job

2009-12-20T07:00:00.003-06:00

(proof that i am totally inadequate: i don't own any of these objects)

As I've mentioned in the past, one of my hobbies is sending out resumes. Some people would call this "applying for jobs." Having lower expectations, I just call it sending out resumes.

Well lo and behold, one of my resumes actually got me a job interview last week. It was interesting.

I'm afraid that at this point I can't offer any advice on how to ace an interview. But here is my step by step plan for not getting a job:

1. Wake up in the morning to find a zit on the end of your nose. Cover with makeup. Add makeup to the rest of your face so it blends in. Finish with powder. Realize that your face now looks like someone baked a cake on it. Wash off makeup and pray for zit to go away.

2. Arrive at interview a few minutes early. Walk into beautiful, modern office building, walk to suite 105 and stop in front of large glass doors, assuming they will open automatically. Feel like moron when they do not.

3. Attempt to open doors by pushing the wrong one. Smile gamely at receptionist, who is trying not to laugh out loud. Push the other one, which opens, thank God.

4. Wait patiently for 10 minutes while receptionist finishes a printing job, after which she says she needs to print a "proofreading test" for you.

5. Accept "test" with a smile and work on it for 30 seconds, correcting one spelling error.

6. Smile and shake hands with boss, who is ready to begin the interview. Hand over the test and read boss's mind: "What is wrong with this moron? She only corrected one spelling error."

7. Answer typical interview questions, realizing halfway through that you have not yet removed your winter coat. Ponder, in the midst of attempting to make your greatest weakness sound like a strength, whether you should take off the coat, which might give the impression of an awkward and unnecessary strip tease, or just leave it on, since honestly it is the nicest part of your outfit and hides the fact that you are not anywhere near dressed up enough and you don't even OWN a pair of high heels like the receptionist is wearing, and even if you did, you are not at all sure you could wear them all day long, five days a week.

8. Drive home totally convinced that they hated you.

9. Spend the next week waiting for the phone to ring, because maybe they didn't.

10. Go back to blogging, where winter coats are never needed, insecurity is completely unnecessary, and bunny slippers are perfectly acceptable.

~~~

Step 3: A little panic sets in

2009-12-18T07:00:00.000-06:00

(2 weeks to go till 2010! time flies whether you're having fun or not)

Two weeks till my BNNY year begins, and I'm already full of excuses why it just won't work.

First, my laundry room needs some shelves. Hubby suggested using some wooden supports and pressboard shelving he has lying in the garage. My first thought was nonono, we need to go to Container Store for a nice track system and white shelving. $200 easy. On second thought, pressboard shelving will do just fine.

Then, I had a job interview which seems irrelevant to BuyNothingNewYear except that I would definitely need to buy some clothes if I ever got a real job that involved people seeing me on a daily basis. I'll tell you about the interview another time. Suffice it to say that I don't think I will be needing to buy new clothes any time soon.

So far, surprisingly, Christmas hasn't posed that much of a problem. We bought TONS of great stuff for the grandbaby at garage sales. We got stocking stuffers for the kids and told them not to buy anything at all for us. And we even have a HUGE turkey in the freezer that some sneaky friends bought when we weren't looking.

Most importantly, we will have everyone around the table, eating and laughing and reminiscing, and - whenever hubby and I leave the room - talking about how we seem to be getting weirder and weirder every year.

Just as it should be.

I can't wait.

~~~

Christmas Pageant

2009-12-17T07:00:00.003-06:00

(sing, choirs of angels)

Dear Parents:

Greetings from the Children's Choir Department at First Congregational Church! We are all SO excited to see your little "angels" perform on Sunday. (Pardon the pun, tee hee hee)

Just a few notes (oops, another pun! silly me!) before we all gather on Sunday morning:

First, we will supply the angel robes but the children will need to wear white t-shirts, white pants, white socks and white shoes. A white pearl necklace would be nice for the girls. And white hair bows. Oh, and for the boys please buy a white top hat, white cane and white bow tie. Don't go to any trouble.

The pageant begins at 9:00 am, so we will need the children in the choir room promptly at 5:45. As you probably recall from last year, it takes quite a while to get them all lined up. Cots are available if you'd like to just sleep at the church the night before.

Grandparents and other relatives are more than welcome to attend. Please advise them to arrive before dawn if they want a good seat. We don't want a repeat of last year's stampede.

Please have your children listen to their rehearsal CD every day! They only have 25 songs to learn, and I am a little dismayed that some of them are still a little shaky on the harmony for the Hallelujah Chorus.

Also, if they could practice standing still for 45 minutes at a time that would be very helpful.

Just think! Next year they will be in the Kindergarten Choir!

See you on Sunday!

Love, Miss Lesley

~~~

punk-shoe-ation

2009-12-15T07:00:00.002-06:00

(stuff your child's stocking with this book and i guarantee you they will punctuate the holidays with complaints)

Proper punctuation? Is very important. Here are a few examples:

Harold! My brother is on fire.

Harold, my brother, is on fire.

A woman without her man is nothing.

A woman: without her, man is nothing.

Let's eat, Grandpa!

Let's eat Grandpa!

As a general rule I believe that less punctuation is better - unless it causes misunderstandings such as accidentally eating Grandpa.

For a brilliant example of minimal punctuation, you really should read "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. His name may be familiar because he was scolded severely by Oprah for making up parts of his book. But really, that was just a spelling error. He thought "fiction" could be spelled "m.e.m.o.i.r." Oops.

Anyway, his book uses virtually no punctuation which sounds bizarre but makes the story flow super fast just like this sentence which you must admit is whizzing along

So there you have it.

Slow, writer at work today.

Slow writer at work today.

~~~

This one takes the cake

2009-12-13T07:00:00.001-06:00

(lately there are lots of ads that make me go hmmmm)

I thought the caveman-who-failed-to-refinance ad was pretty funny (click here if you haven't seen it).

But no question, this is the best one yet:

Um, no offense, hairy caveman mom, but I don't think your lack of a college degree is the only thing preventing you from finding better work.

hahahahaha

~~~

The Dale Girls shop for a Christmas tree

2009-12-12T07:00:00.002-06:00

Shopping for a Christmas tree was one of the highlights of the year for the little Dale girls. We took great care in selecting the perfect tree. You'd never know it from this picture, would you? Good lord, it looks like the Charlie Brown tree a month after Christmas, shortly before it burst into flames.

But still. We loved shopping for Christmas trees.

And so, just in time, here is the Dale Girls' Guide To Buying A Christmas Tree:

1. Wait for the coldest day of the year. In Connecticut, this could occur in August. You just never know. Always be ready.

2. Run down the stairs all together, screeching, "WE HAVE TO GET A TREE!!! IT'S TIME!!! LET'S GO!!!"

3. Wait for daddy to pour just one more glass of funny-smelling stuff, which he claims he needs to keep his hands warm.

4. Drive to the Christmas Tree Farm. Back then, boys and girls, this was a place where they grew actual, real live trees. They were all green, and had this wonderful scent, and none of them rotated or played Christmas carols. Yes, I am very old.

5. Throw open the car doors and race through the maze of trees, yelling "THIS ONE! I FOUND ONE! IT'S PERFECT!" Drag your tree to the center so you can show the other sisters why yours is the best.

6. Argue until your teeth are chattering so violently, your woolen hat with the festive red pom-pom on top keeps flying off your head.

7. Reluctantly agree to buy your sister's dopey tree even though yours is clearly superior, because daddy is sitting in the station wagon, revving the engine violently.

8. Drag the tree to the car, hoist it into the back, instruct younger sisters sternly to grab a branch and hold on for dear life because Santa won't come if they lose the tree in the middle of the highway.

9. Drag the tree up the back stairs, into the house, through the narrow doorways, and into the living room. Flop it around until you locate the fullest side.

10. Push, pull, yank, swivel, stagger and sweat until tree somehow miraculously lands in tree stand. QUICK QUICK QUICK, tighten up the screws.

Then stand back to admire your fragrant, green, real-life, crooked, spindly, well-loved Christmas tree.

(p.s. - watch out for the pine needles all over the floor. they can be a little slippery.)

~~~

Step 2: The Compact

2009-12-11T07:00:00.004-06:00

(3 weeks till my BNNY year begins)

I'm so ready for this ... a whole year without buying anything new.

Of course, I once thought I was ready for natural childbirth.

Hmm.

Perhaps it will be wise to get some support in this new endeavor. Hence, I have joined The Compact.

No, it's not a secret religious society with robes and candles and spooky meetings. Though that sounds fun, too. The Compact started as a small group of people who pledged to buy nothing new for a year, back in 2006.

Here is a link to their blog, and their yahoo group, if you'd like to learn more.

I'm thinking that my biggest struggle will be with books. I have a long Wish List on Amazon, and I'm all set up for one-click ordering. I typically one-click about once a month.

But this week hubby and I gathered a bunch of books and VHS tapes and headed to Half-Price Books. They gave us 20 bucks, and we bought some gently-used books and DVD's. It was easy! Painless. Whew.

Let the countdown begin!

I'm ready.

~~~

Ads that make you go "hmmm"

2009-12-09T07:00:00.000-06:00

(would you believe, it sometimes takes me 7 or 8 hours to finish my morning coffee)

There I was, innocently drinking my morning coffee and browsing the financial section of msn.com when suddenly - BLAM! - these weird ads caught my eye.

What they heck are they selling?

Why the heck are they selling it in the financial section?

And what the heck can I say about them that will explain why they caught my eye and maybe make you laugh and best of all help me avoid doing any actual work for the next half hour or so?

Let's see ... here is ad number one:

Ok. So are they saying the guy on the left is a "fat kid"? If so, they have obviously not visited a school lately. Any school. Pick one. I promise, this guy would be considered a skinny minny. Even if he's a very tall kindergartener.

Moving on to ad # 2 ...

Now I must say, Screaming Muscular Guy, I believe that you built SERIOUS muscle. But I don't believe your health is intact. People whose health is intact do not normally scream. Unless maybe you just realized that your new chest muscles caused your tattoo to change from a picture of your girlfriend to an abstract drawing of Barney Frank. That might explain it.

And now, ad # 3 ...

This is my favorite ...

Put down your coffee first ...

hahaha! Call me heartless, but this ad made me laugh out loud. Do you mean to tell me that if I fail to refinance my mortgage, I will turn into a Geiko caveman? I will no longer be able to afford a shirt? My hair will grow uncontrollably?

Or is this a picture of someone who DID take advantage of the Government Refinance Plan? Is this guy showing us a look of surprise because he just realized how much he can save by forgoing basic hygeine?

Or maybe it's a picture of a government official, who has recently been fired because his crappy plan only reached 85,000 people out of 7 - 9 million, which is indeed a sorry statistic.

I have no idea. But the longer I ponder, the less time I have for work. And the greater the possibility I will need to take advantage of whatever this Plan is.

hmmm ....

Guess I better go.

~~~

The Dale Girls celebrate Christmas

2009-12-07T07:00:00.002-06:00

(left to right: karen, melissa and monica ... with the world's ugliest christmas tree in the background)

What was Christmas like in our noisy, creative, unconventional Connecticut household? I asked my sisters to write down some recollections, and today, I am excited to feature my very first Guest Post from my wonderful sister Monica!

Monica is a pianist, a dancer, a teacher, an author, and an expert on the Dalcroze method, which combines movement and music for children. She is beautiful, talented, and extremely witty.

I was 3 years old when Monica was born, and as babies tend to do, she immediately took over the role of smallest and cutest in the household. Fortunately, that left me free to ride my tricycle whenever and wherever I wanted, hide my food behind the radiator, and color on the wall behind the living room sofa. So it worked out fine.

Here are Monica's memories of Christmas:

~~~

Just yesterday, the director of the arts-based based school where I teach music and movement asked me what I thought of CDs that direct children to do specific movements, usually over bad synthesized music. She said she dislikes them, and I agreed. They don’t allow for children’s own creativity, if they’re too fast for the children they can’t adjust, and the music itself isn’t worthwhile. She told me some teachers had come back from a conference with such a CD, and asked me to make the case against them in the faculty meeting that was starting in a few minutes. (The task was made a bit more uncomfortable by the fact that some of the teachers were playing the incriminated CD, enthusiastically performing the movements, as we gathered for the meeting.)

It sent me to the internet in search of some quality alternatives, and I thought of the records we had as kids -- like those by Jim Copp (now on CDs) and my favorite, Come and See the Peppermint Tree (now a real collector’s item). We grew up hearing classical music, of course, and I also remember dancing around to what I think must have been Renaissance dance music, and another of Brazilian songs. No matter that I didn’t understand the words -- Mom also read me poetry in German (Ich und Du), explaining later that she thought the sounds and rhythms of the words would seem interesting.

She had some unorthodox ideas, but she was very careful not to let us hear any really bad music. She didn’t start teaching piano lessons until Melissa was 11, and said that was because she never wanted us to hear poor playing until our musical ears were formed. (It could also have been that she was way too busy with four girls until Melissa was 11.)

Although I loved drawing pictures of ballerinas, we didn’t have Suzy-Q’s ballet classes; we had creative movement with teachers now known for their innovations. Although I longed for the Twinkies and Wonderbread other kids took out of their lunchboxes, and was shunned when I revealed a cream cheese and olive sandwich, I’m glad now that we didn’t grow up on junk food. When I was sick and stayed home from school, she’d sometimes bring me a excitingly fresh pad of paper and new colored pencils, but not a coloring book.

So as Christmas approached, I longed for the latest fads in toys. I took the Sears “Wish Book” catalogue and painstakingly wrote out a chart of everything I wanted, complete with item number, quantity, weight, price, size if applicable, color choice, second color choice, etc. I didn’t expect everything on my long list, but figured I’d supply enough options from which to choose that she’d surely find *something* there that’d thrill me!

(Years later, in a freshman creative writing class in college, I put the wish list chart into a short story. The critique came back that it was simply not believable that an eight-year-old would actually do this.)

Until I knew better, I was crazy with anticipation, wondering which things she’d ordered from the Wish Book! The doll with the yellow braids? The red jumper (second choice navy blue)? The game of the year, with something that buzzed, beeped, or glowed in the dark?

Christmas morning was always wonderful, although my List was always ignored. I dreaded the calls from friends asking, “So what did you get?” They seemed to yawn relating their new clothes, toys and dolls under their tree -- the very kinds of things I’d written on my Wish List. In turn, I’d itemize my haul: “A construction set, a word game, craypas...” I didn’t mention the brownie mix. They wouldn’t understand. (Mom’s rationale was that we’d need something to do on Christmas after all the presents were opened, to help us through that afternoon slump all kids go through as a let-down from the morning’s excitement.)

Over the years, there was a dexterity game that required performing tasks “backwards” looking in a mirror; a wood-burning kit; a “Mille Bornes” game involving road distances in metric units or something; a record teaching French through a bizarre variation on Alice in Wonderland (I vaguely remember a group of menacing bears advancing while chanting, “Comment ca va, comment ca va, comment ca va...”)

No, there weren’t a lot of plastic toys, or Twinkies, or tutus... And there wasn’t a lot of money. But Mom was smarter than any of us could have realized at the time. She encouraged us to DO things and create things all our own, without coloring by numbers. She knew we’d quickly be bored with the latest bright plastic fad, but said we could always earn the money and buy them ourselves. We did one year -- a game called “Green Ghost.” It was the coolest thing ever, for almost a week.

And so the little ones that I teach now dance to my piano improvisations, not raucous CDs; they create their own ways of moving, not copying mine. They think their own thoughts, share their own ideas, and sing with their own voices.

Quite simply, Mom knew best.

~~~

Step 1: Unsubscribe

2009-12-04T07:00:00.009-06:00

(4 weeks until my buy-nothing-new-year begins)

I have to confess, I've done a little advance shopping. Hubby and I bought a Blu-Ray player (on Black Friday, no less!) and a new TV for the bedroom. A year from now that might seem like a huge, unnecessary splurge. Or I might be at the mall, drooling and twitching and quivering as I wait for Macy's to open on January 1st.

We'll see.

In preparation for BNNY (which I could really use a catchy name for, if anybody has any ideas!) I decided to unsubscribe from all of the automatic emails I receive from retailers. I was amazed! Without even realizing it, I was receiving emails on a regular basis from:

Blockbuster
Amazon
JC Penney
Costco
800 Flowers
Victoria's Secret
Dell Computers
Crate & Barrel
West Elm
Staples
CB2
Kirkland's
The DMA Bookstore
Bath & Body Works
Pottery Barn
Anthropologie
American Blinds & Wallpaper

Not any more. Y'all are history. Now I won't even know that Costco has a new shipment of Motorola 3G Android Devices. That sounds pretty creepy anyway. Do I really want an Android Device in my pocket? I don't think so.

I also won't be reminded on a daily basis that JC Penney is having THE BIGGEST SALE OF THE YEAR!! on 30,000 items.

I won't know that the Dell computer I bought for $1,000 a year ago is NOW ON SALE FOR ONLY $299!! complete with Windows 7, which ACTUALLY WORKS!! unlike the crappy Vista I have.

I won't be THE FIRST TO LEARN!! that Amazon is offering FREE SHIPPING!! IF YOU SIMPLY BUY 1,234 ITEMS AND USE THE SECRET CODE 1234BUYBUYBUY!!!!!

Oh dear.

I'll definitely need a new hobby.

I can feel my hands twitching already.

~~~

My One-Year Anniversary!

2009-12-01T07:00:00.000-06:00

(happy birthday, my turn to talk!)

One year ago today, I started my little blog.

I did lots of things wrong:

~ I made the posts way too long. I'm pretty quiet in real life, but I tend to ramble in Blogville.

~ I really didn't have a focus. Successful bloggers build a following by sticking to one subject. Not me.

~ I talked about my childhood and the "good old days" which of course nobody really cares about. Just ask my kids.

But along the way, I somehow gained some loyal followers and made some good friends.

Let's see ... there's Fran, who was one of my very first followers. She is an English teacher - which would automatically make her one of my favorite people anyway. She's also hysterically funny, in a dry British sort of way.

Then there's Amanda, who could not be more different from me - and yet, we seem to understand each other perfectly. Where else could that work out, except in Blogville? Amanda doesn't know it yet, but she will be writing a best-selling cookbook one day. Count on it.

There's The Retired One, who helped me learn how to be funny without rambling so much, and who has the funniest police reports in the entire world. (not to mention the most beautiful photographs)

There's Lily, a sweet and supportive friend who will be publishing a book very soon. Her Bloggy friends will all rush to buy a copy! Me included, of course.

There's Rae, a former nurse who really should have been a writer all along. She finds the best topics to write about! I find it hard not to steal her ideas on a daily basis.

My newest friends include Ellie, who writes amazing poetry, and Anni, who is a fellow Texan, and Plainolebob, who has just about the most unique blog I have ever read.

I'm sure I'm leaving people out - and I do apologize. I haven't even mentioned the family members and "real" friends who read my ramblings and laugh along and tell me to keep going.

My point is, I expected blogging to be all about the words. The stories. The serious, introspective thoughts from the pit of my deep, black subconscious.

But it ended up being all about you. My friends. In real life and in Blogville.

Thank you for reading.

I love you all.

I hope you'll stick with me for another year.

~~~

Seriously ...

2009-11-29T18:28:00.004-06:00

(can i really go an entire year without macy's? we'll see ...)

I started thinking about it a couple of weeks ago.

Our church had a short Sunday service, and then the pastor sent all of us out to the grocery store with a list of suggested items for the local food pantry. We were going to "be Jesus" to the community by stocking the pantry. Very cool.

Fifteen churches in the area did the same thing. Keep in mind, down here in Dallas if you have 1,000 members you're a small church. A large church could be 20,000 people or more.

As you can imagine, the nearby grocery stores were packed with people. Everybody stocked up on canned goods, toiletries and other essentials. We filled many, many semi trucks with stuff.

The next week, the pastor congratulated all of us on a job well done. The food pantries were stocked. They estimated that all the food would last them....

Three weeks.

That's right. Fifteen churches, umpteen thousand people, tens of thousands of dollars worth of essentials, and it would last 3 weeks.

I was stunned.

The next thing that made me think, was Black Friday. My blog post about it was pretty accurate. People were everywhere, rushing to buy TVs and Blu-Rays and YouNameIt.

And then ... I read a story by plaineolbob on the Bloggers Coffee Shop, who has a heart of gold. He asked the boy next door if he was excited about Thanksgiving, and the boy answered that they barely had enough food to last until the end of the month. Bob headed for the grocery store, and cooked a turkey dinner for the family.

That was it. I was ready to do something. But what?

Then ... I came across an article on Broowaha.com entitled Buy Nothing Day. It was about buying nothing on Black Friday. I decided to take it a step further.

Hubby and I have pledged to buy nothing new in 2010.

We'll buy used. We'll shop on Craigslist and eBay and at local consignment stores. We'll make exceptions for a few things, like underwear and food. And we'll keep track of how much we're saving.

At the end of the year, we will donate the savings to a worthy cause.

I'm going to post about our progress on Fridays. Should be interesting!

Stay tuned ...

~~~

Black Friday

2009-11-27T13:19:00.008-06:00

(isn't this FUN?)

3:45 a.m. - Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! The lines are forming already!!

4:15 a.m. - (Screech out of the driveway, run over a suspicious bump, and knock over the neighbor's garbage can) Leave it!! You can pick it up later! And the cat will be fine!

4:40 a.m. - Park anywhere!! Here is fine! I can see the line, it's wrapping all the way around the building! Oh wait, this is a handicapped space! Get out so I can break your leg!! It will be SO worth it, trust me!

4:59 a.m. - Ok, it's almost time. Quick. Memorize this map. I'll run to the automotive department and grab the $12.50 laptop and the Texas Edition Secede Or Die iPod. You head straight for the deli department for the 3-Million-Piece-Baby-Einstein-Build-Your-Own-Miniature-Manhattan-Lego Kit, then run to the left and search the freezer case for the 75-inch TV. And they're all out of carts, so DON'T DROP IT!

5:00 a.m. - THE DOOR IS OPENING!! GOOOOOOO!

6:00 a.m. - What are you doing out here in the car??!! Do you KNOW how long I've been looking for you??!! Where's the TV? And what is this wimpy 1-Million-Piece-Build-Eau-Claire-Wisconsin-Lego Kit? Who the heck wants that?

Oh well. I didn't do much better. The laptops were gone by 5:01. And they only had one iPod. I was first in line for it, but this little kid lit my hair on fire and his sister grabbed the iPod and ran. I guess I deserved it for pushing their mom into that bin of discount movies.

Hey, I did find a copy of Elf for $3.99. Let's go home and watch it. I just love the holidays!

~~~

Giving Thanks

2009-11-25T16:40:00.007-06:00

This year I am thankful for ...

Good food ...

Good health ...

Good times ...

And good friends ...

Happy Thanksgiving!

~~~

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts

2009-11-25T07:00:00.008-06:00

(i found this "toddler computer desk" online for around $200. but i'm sure your toddler already has one of these!)

Today's kids are SO hard to buy for! By the time they are 3 years old, they already have their own computers, fully operational miniature kitchens, and battery-driven Hummers with leather seats and "Secede Or Die" bumper stickers. At least here in Frisco they do.

So ... you are probably wondering what to buy your favorite boy or girl this year. Lucky you! I have some excellent suggestions. The descriptions in italics are, no kidding, straight from the manufacturers:

1. A Reel Roaster

("crank the reel's handle and the stainless steel skewer slowly rotates for even grilling")

Would you REALLY make your child go into the woods, find a stick, put a marshmallow on it, and rotate it over an open flame BY HAND?? Come now. Get serious. There are no woods within 20 miles of Frisco. Order this Reel Roaster instead.

2. The ZING Catapult Spoon

("zing! launch your lunch")

What better way to bring your family together than a rousing food fight?? Be sure to order enough ZING's for everyone at the table!

3. Bacon Bandages

("treat your minor cuts, scrapes and scratches with the incredible healing power of meat")

I never even knew that meat had incredible healing power! If nothing else, your minor cuts, scrapes and scratches will smell really yummy. The perfect stocking stuffer.

And last but not least ...

4. Glutton Baby

("el primer muneco lactante")
(and hopefully el LAST-o muneco lactante)

Ok, the original Spanish name sounds a little better. Bebe Gloton. This truly disturbing baby doll lets little girls (or, I suppose, disturbed little boys) ... um ... well, here are the three steps on the box: 1) strap on the special nursing bra, 2) "chup chup chup" and 3) "bluuuuuurp"

Ewwww.

Skip the Black Friday sales. Just go online to order these sure-to-please gifts. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving tomorrow!!!

~~~

Problem child

2009-11-23T07:00:00.005-06:00

Her name was Sarah. She was six years old, with dark brown hair and big brown eyes and rosy cheeks. She was the terror of the Sunday School class.

When the other children lined up for a game, she pushed her way to the front of the line and ran through the obstacle course all by herself, laughing at the top of her lungs.

When the other children sang songs, she jumped and twirled and hid under her chair.

When the other children listened to the Bible story for the day, she told long stories of her own to whoever happened to be sitting next to her.

What on earth was wrong with this child? We grown-ups didn't quite know what to do with her. For lack of a better idea, I decided to make it my job to sit by her every week.

For a while I'm afraid I only made things worse. Sarah now had an audience for her jumping and twirling and hiding. And she knew it. I shushed her and stroked her hair when she started telling her stories, but of course it didn't stop her. I started getting disapproving stares from the other helpers.

I felt like quite a Sunday School Supervisory Loser.

I thought maybe I should scold her. Or give her a time-out. Or take her to a quiet corner to pray. But instead I just kept sitting there. Watching her twirling. Listening to her stories.

One morning, the entire class was quietly watching a puppet show. Sarah stood on one foot, wobbled back and forth, and started hopping sideways.

Suddenly she stopped and whispered in my ear.

"I wish I could live with my mommy and daddy," she said with a little sigh. "My Grandma is nice, but I really miss my mommy."

She looked into my eyes for a minute. I just smiled and stroked her hair.

Then she jumped up

and twirled

and hid under her chair.

~~~

Thanksgiving recipes - Part 4

2009-11-21T07:00:00.003-06:00

(when it comes to holiday decorations, the more the merrier!!)

Dear Southern Living:

I'm so excited! Our friends will be here in a few days, and my plans are nearly complete.

My little turkey farm is coming along well. The neighbors have apparently gotten used to the gobbling. They haven't called the police in several days.

My organic pumpkin patch is the envy of the neighborhood! I had to plant it in the front yard, since the turkeys are quite territorial. But with a little luck, the homeowner's association will reconsider their fine for Unapproved Unsightly And Untrimmed Vegetation. I think $250 is a little excessive, don't you?

I have hired a local artist to paint miniature murals on my Southern Living Sugar Cookies. After all, our friends are traveling a long way. The least I can do is to show them some Southern Living Hospitality. I have also sent my pearls out for cleaning.

I love, love, love the home decorating section of your Annual Best Of The Best Even Better Than Last Year And Definitely Better Than Anything You've Ever Done You Pathetic Loser Holiday Issue. I'm trying to make my home look exactly like your pictures!

I just have a few questions. I hope you won't mind.

First, is it absolutely necessary to grow my own Christmas tree from an acorn? I'm not sure I have room in the back yard, for obvious gobble-y reasons. And the pumpkin patch is quickly overtaking the front yard. Plus I really don't have much of a green thumb. As you may recall, I wrote you last summer about my cilantro plant which lasted for only 6 hours before dying a tragic and premature death.

I really don't want to go through that kind of emotional trauma again.

Second, on page 547 you have a lovely picture of a wreath. I've been trying to duplicate it, but the spun glass angel wings just won't adhere to the Waterford Crystal pine needles. What am I doing wrong?

I did manage to hang 1000 strands of twinkle lights, coordinated with the cheerful and extremely loud holiday music simultaneously piped through the speakers on my front porch and local radio station 106.1, with animated reindeer doing the Macarena on the roof, plus a nativity set on the front lawn that tells the entire Gospel story from Baby Jesus all the way through the Ascension Into The Sky, which drives the turkeys absolutely crazy.

I can't wait for my friends to see it!!

Thanks for all your help, Southern Living. I'll be in touch next week, when I start to plan my Christmas menu.

I will probably have a few questions.

~~~

Thanksgiving recipes - Part 3

2009-11-19T07:00:00.002-06:00

(your days are numbered, my goofy looking friend)

Dear Southern Living Magazine,

Golly gee, I hate to be a pest! But I know you care deeply about the culinary success of Southern women like myself. So I need your expert advice on my dessert selections for Thanksgiving dinner.

My house guests have told me repeatedly not to go to any trouble this year. In fact, each time they say it their voices get louder and more emphatic. I keep telling them, it is no trouble at all to assemble a George Washington Turkey with a Mayflower made entirely of green beans! No trouble at all.

I want to be sure that I prepare the perfect desserts for my friends. Your annual Put Your Neighbors To Shame Holiday Whoop De Doo Look What We Can Do With Pumpkins Edition has been a tremendous help.

I just have a few questions.

First, your apple pie recipe has me completely baffled. Do you mean to tell me it is actually possible to make a pie crust FROM SCRATCH?? Unbelievable. I might as well try to create gravity. Though, again, the lady in your picture looks like she is really enjoying the process. Maybe she's been sampling the egg nog.

Second, I need some help with your Ultimate Pumpkin Pie recipe. What should I do if I can't find a pesticide-free 10-pound no-growth-hormone organic pumpkin at my local Kroger? Would my friends really know the difference if I use a can of Libby's? You won't tell them, will you?

I really love the pictures of your sugar cookies. The Andrew Wyeth landscapes are stunning. I'm not even gonna attempt those.

Thanks a bunch! This will be a Thanksgiving to remember.

~~~

Thanksgiving recipes - Part 2

2009-11-17T07:00:00.003-06:00

(woo hoo! now we're cooking)

Dear Southern Living Magazine,

Thank you for the helpful information on How To Cook The Perfect Turkey. My house guests are so excited to try it! They have never seen a boneless, skinless turkey shaped like George Washington before. Can you imagine?

In fact, they looked rather alarmed when I said I was going to cook Thanksgiving dinner from scratch. I told them that they really should be more open-minded. It's been several years since the big fire. I'm ready to try again!

I have been studying the side dish recipes in your Gigantic Colossal Completely Over The Top Holiday Issue, and I have a few more questions for you:

First, I love they way your Green Bean Bundles are assembled in the exact configuration of The Mayflower. Sails and all. Very impressive. If I can't find authentic 16th Century bailing twine at my local Home Depot, is it ok to use some very old string?

Next, I am planning on making your Unbelievable Totally Homemade Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet Cranberry Sauce. I'm just not sure I can stir for 24 hours straight. The lady in your picture looks like she is having fun stirring with her platinum-coated diamond-studded whisk. But I think her pupils are a little dilated.

And finally, of course, no Thanksgiving dinner is complete without mashed potatoes. Which recipe do you really recommend?

~ Buttery Butter-Flavored Butter-Than-Ever Mashed Potatoes With Butter And Sour Cream

or

~ Creamy Sour-Cream Cream-A-Licious Mashed Potatoes With Sour Cream And Butter

They both look delicious.

Thanks so much for your help! I'm super excited to impress my friends.

~~~

Thanksgiving recipes

2009-11-15T07:21:00.004-06:00

(this is nothing. wait till you see MY turkey!)

Dear Southern Living Magazine:

I am so excited! We have some friends coming to visit for Thanksgiving. So this year, I'm going all out. No thin-sliced deli turkey from Kroger. No applesauce spooned into those little graham cracker crust things. No indeedy. This year I'm going to cook!

I bought your Southern Living Holiday Extravaganza Impress Your Friends And Neighbors Edition yesterday. It's not too often that I spend $24 on a single magazine. But I figured it's worth that much just for the Do-It-Yourself Back Yard Turkey Farm blueprints alone.

And the diagram for Decorating A 12-Foot Christmas Tree Using Your Grandmother's Antique Jewelry! Stunning!

I just have a few questions:

First, the turkey. Should I prepare the Homegrown Herb Dry Rub before or after I skin the turkey, disassemble it, remove the bones, and then put it back together in the shape of George Washington?

If I don't have time to get my Back Yard Turkey Farm up and running, can you tell me where to find a 50-pound turkey in my local area? I am in Zone 8 of your Southern Living Turkey Zone color-coded map.

Are you sure it's a good idea to stuff the turkey with deep-fried butter? According to your Nutritional Estimates, we will all congeal into solid masses of clogged arteries by 6:00 p.m. The Bacon And Eggs Benedict Gravy sure sounds yummy, I must admit.

I'm a little skeptical about using the giblets to polish my furniture. But you are the experts.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

~~~

How to write a cover letter

2009-11-11T07:00:00.000-06:00

(writing a cover letter is a big job)

As I mention whenever I have nothing else to blog about, I often half-heartedly look for jobs when I have nothing else to do. Plus I am, whenever I do actually work, a professional writer.

Therefore, as something of an expert in the broadest possible sense of the term, I thought I would share some tips on writing cover letters.

The cover letter is without a doubt the hardest part of applying for a job. After all, writing a resume is pretty straightforward. Filling out an online application is more a matter of patience than skill. But your cover letter is your chance to shine! Or sink. One or the other.

First, let me share an actual cover letter that got me an actual job:

To Whom It May Concern: Please read my resume. I really need a job. I have been working as a church choir director for many years. A church is a wonderful place to spend a Sunday morning, but if I have to work here one more day I will shoot myself in the head. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?

... then I went on to describe my total lack of experience, since at that point I had none, and ended with a reminder that I would be happy to consider any salary that has five figures in it, which apparently made up for my total lack of experience because, as I said, I miraculously got the job. Thank you God.

Once I got that particular job, which ended up being a freelance gig, I started sending out emails looking for more freelance gigs. These query emails are similar to cover letters, so I'll share one of them as well:

To Whom It May Concern: I am a freelance copywriter. Over the past 10 years I have written a wide variety of financial marketing pieces from my cozy home office here in Michigan. My goal is to write marketing materials from a cozy home office in a tropical location, so I thought I would see if I can drum up a little more work. Please let me know if you would be interested in seeing some writing samples.

I had quite a bit of success with this little email. Amazing, I know.

Here are the lessons that you might take away from my quirky but successful cover letter/query emails:

1. Be yourself. Let your personality come through.

2. Don't be afraid to use a little humor. I wouldn't recommend my all-out quirky approach for, say, a computer programmer. But you could add just a small touch of tasteful levity. The H.R. department will appreciate it. Really.

3. It's ok to say "To Whom It May Concern." The real experts will tell you this is a no-no. But it worked for me. So there.

4. Get some professional help if necessary. With your writing, that is. I would be happy to craft a personalized cover letter for you for, say, $250. Plus I'll polish up your resume for $500 and fill out online applications for $1,000 each. Hey, tropical home offices don't come cheap.

~~~

When I grow up ...

2009-11-09T05:30:00.001-06:00

(work: what i really should be doing right now)

I'm at it again. Searching for jobs.

Not that I really want a job. It's kind of my hobby.

One of these days somebody is going to offer me a job and I'll say "Oh, heh heh, no thanks, I was just looking" like I always say to the sales people at the mall, who have one of the worst jobs in the world, cleaning up after people like me who try on 27 outfits and don't buy any of them.

Anyway. Here is my fool-proof method for job searching:

Step one: I go to www.indeed.com, where I have stored three searches. (writer, copywriter, editor)

Step two: I pull up recent listings that might meet my stringent criteria, which include a generous salary, absolutely no need for heels or pantyhose at any time, and summers off.

Step three: I find one or more reasons why I am not qualified for any of the recent listings.

Step four: I turn on the television and watch the latest episode of The Colbert Report, hoping all the while that Stephen Colbert will announce a new nationwide search for comedy writers yet knowing that if he did, I would find a reason not to apply.

Surely, one of these days, I will discover my true calling in life. My passion. My what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up.

Here are some jobs that just might fit the bill:

~ Circus Clown: Comfortable shoes. Baggy pants. No need to style my hair.

~ Snow Plow Operator In Dallas: Summers off. Plus Springs, Winters and Falls.

~ Bank Robber: Set your own hours. Unlimited earning potential.

Of course, I could just continue doing what I do, which is writing marketing projects for a couple of wonderful marketing companies that could not care less if I wear heels, pantyhose, or my raggedy sweat pants. Or even a red rubber nose.

Though they do make me work in the summer.

Life is tough.

~~~

Why Frisco Texas is exactly the same as Colorado

2009-11-07T06:00:00.001-06:00

(this is not my friend barb. it's not me either. i never smile if there is snow on the ground.)

When I lived in Michigan, I had a wonderful friend named Barb. (everybody wave to Barb!) She helped me survive the church job I will tell you about one of these days, which is included on my resume with a note: QBIWCI. Quit Before I Went Completely Insane.

Anyway.

Barb moved to Colorado, where she lives happily with her wonderful family. She loves Colorado, but really she could have just moved to Texas with me!

Frisco is EXACTLY the same as Colorado. Here's why:

Colorado has four seasons: Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer.

Frisco has four seasons too! Kind of Hot, Really Hot, Hotter Than You Ever Thought Possible, and Hot Enough To Melt Your Eyeballs.

Colorado has mountains.

Yeah, yeah. Big deal, Barb. Frisco has mountains too.

Ok, hills.

Oh fine. Roads that slope.

(try hiking up that slope in the middle of Hot Enough To Melt Your Eyeballs - it's not so easy, let me tell ya)

And last but not least ...

Colorado has wildlife. Moose, bears, ducks, you name it.

(he looks friendly, doesn't he?)

And, you guessed it, Frisco has wildlife too. Why, just the other day they were having a clearance sale at Neiman Marcus, or "Neiman's" as everybody down here casually calls it, with $300 t-shirts marked down to only $299! They ran out of size Triple-Zero within the first 5 minutes, as teeny little women wearing huge sunglasses and driving gigantic SUV's stormed the store.

Pretty wild.

Miss you, Barb!

~~~