Tuesday

"Why I Love Other Moms" Tuesdays

That's right, I am a trendy blogger and I am jumping into this blogging trend with both feet. Posts that are titled: "'Blah blah blah blah' day of the week". So, enjoy, fellow bloggers!

I really do love other moms, though. To me, they are fun, quirky people and I pretty much want to hug and embrace every one of them. Really. So, I am pretty confident that I can devote one post a week as to why I love other moms.






Tune in next week to find out what my sock drawer looks like.

Friday

Guest Post from Chunk

I am pleased(not really) to welcome Chunk as my very first guest poster to my almost famous blog. Chunk is an alter ego. His thoughts and views in no way reflect my own opinions or perspectives. Chunk is currently seeking treatment for anxiety and depression from a talented therapist we'll call Zurg. I know, Chunk seems so normal, well-adjusted, successful, and happy.  But it is all just a big facade. In reality, Chunk is cynical, snarky, and narcissistic. Obviously, he is a real joy to be around. (Sorry, yes, I can be a bit hard on Chunk. I'm working on that.) I one day hope to eradicate Chunk from the furthest recesses of my mind. Until then, let's enjoy mocking and downplaying the seriousness of his condition.

Take it away, Chunk!








I know what you're thinking..... When does she have time to go to therapy what with her blog and raising a young child and all. But really, don't be too impressed. I just make this stuff up right off the top of my head. Really. There's no planning, no training, no education, no experience, no editing, and no discernible effort at all. Except I do look up words a lot. I would look up rules of grammar, too, if I had more time.




Wednesday

My Number One Fan

I'm sorry, Bill. I was bored.
Is it okay if I post this on my blog?
If not, just tell me and I will take it down.
Or, I could just black out the eyes like this:
Oh, wait, no. Sorry, scratch that statement.
I'm using the google+ editing toolkit and there is
no "censored" feature. I will have
to do that manually. But I can disguise you.
Here:


Gosh, Bill, your head is big.
Now I think I have figured out a way to
black out your eyes with this crude technique:


This is becoming absolutely addictive.
Okay, that one is just terrifying.

And I can make you say things...
And even think things!...
I could literally do this all day.

Bill, do you want me to take this down? Please say "No". I'm leaving it up. 

Sunday

Stop trying too hard.

I mean, me. Me, stop trying too hard. I don't know, maybe other people need to try harder, so their advice to themselves might be, "Try harder." I really don't know. Or maybe even some people are out there not even worrying whether they are trying too hard, or not trying hard enough, they are just (image of cow grazing in a field contentedly. (I'm not an artist. You know that by now. (Maybe I need to try harder at art, too.))). But I am definitely a "Trier too hard" type. I don't know why, except I was born that way, and have been practicing it for 41 years which makes me kind of an expert at it.

Okay, right now I just want to delete this whole post, it is boring me to tears. Yuck.

Yesterday my blogger brain was engaged. I was exploding with ideas. My threshold for thought and cleverness and irony was on overdrive. Everything in my head sounded funny to me. It was awesome. I came up with every post title for the A-Z blogger challenge in my head in a matter of seconds, all the while thinking to myself, "Oh, I am going to be so good at this." Plus I was even inspired to enter the A-Z video challenge and I thought up the ultimate winning video in which I would star, while recruiting complete strangers off the streets to collaborate, eventually achieving some kind of global social awareness and united cause. I was ready to take on the world and invite the world to join me and take on itself and we would all live in this higher level of awareness and compassion and tolerance and acceptance of others. Oh well.

To delete, or not to delete.................

Of course I'm gonna post it. 


Thursday

This was supposed to be my funniest post to date...

I know, I know....how could my blog possibly get any more humorous, right? Well, don't worry, I don't think I am pulling this one off at all. I am sure I'm just being too hard on myself. I'm still going to post it anyways because I don't have anything else to post and I haven't posted anything fresh since Tuesday. And I get bored too easily. So I'd rather post something that is just short of tragic than just sit here not writing or posting anything.

Anyway, this post is about my condition. My brain can't make new memories. It's not amnesia. It's just the everyday things I need a little help with. You have to have a system. Like 1.) carry a polaroid to remind yourself of the facts. Here's an example:

You see, a digital camera is not going to help you if you have short term memory loss and can't make new memories, because you can't write these little notes on the back of your digital picture. But I guess you could quickly post your image to Facebook along with a caption. But see then you would be in trouble because when you have this condition you have to use polariods with notes to remember who your friends are and who you can and can't trust. So if you Facebook the image with a caption then the friend is going to know that you already know you can't trust him or her so it won't really work. Unless you can trust all your friends. Then I guess you don't really need any polaroids except for things like in my example above, which you probably could post to Facebook with a caption without worrying too much about it. Actually, now that I think of it, Facebook was probably developed exactly for people with this condition so they can remember who their friends are and what they have eaten that day. (That is actually, both, what they, themselves, have eaten that day and what their friends have eaten that day.)

2.) Use semi-permanent tattoos to remember pertinent information. (just like they did in the movie. Come on, you know Guy Pierce isn't walking around today with all that useless information written all over his body. They weren't real tattoos!)

Okay, I omitted the word "much" in that statement but I was writing backwards across my chest, people. That picture is a reflection of myself in the mirror. That was supposed to read, "THIS WAS WRITTEN IN SHARPIE SO IT IS PRETTY MUCH THE SAME AS A REAL TATTOO".

And again with the ever elusive car keys:




The obvious flaw in the system includes not being able to proof read as I write. My right leg is supposed to read, "Your keys are hooked to your belt...", not "You keys are hooked to your belt...". Sorry. That must seem confusing.

Some of my other photographs were a little too revealing to post on my blog so I will just tell you what and where the rest of my tattoos are.

Stomach: "Wear a friggin' belt you idiot."

Arm: "You have gone back upstairs to retrieve your wallet or phone or keys or sunglasses or camera or hat or purse or shoes or pants or grocery list or else it is something not on this list. In the event that you have your wallet, phone, keys, sunglasses, camera, hat, purse, shoes, pants, and grocery list, grab a pen and a piece of paper. Now go back down stairs and head out the door. You will then remember what it was you had gone back upstairs for so write it down this time, idiot."

Feet: Buy Sharpies






Tuesday

For My Husband

Hi Sweetie. I forgot to put this note in your lunch box today mainly because a.) you have no lunch box and b.) I don't pack you a lunch and c.) I can't even remember what I was going to type for "d.)" as I am typing this for "c.)". While we are at it, would you like a lunch box? It might be sort of fun for you? They have tons to choose from now-a-days. But no real "adult" themed ones. And when I say "adult themed", I don't mean like porn, violence, or profanity. I mean like, who are the adult action figures of today? Or even the equivalent of a "teen idol" but for an adult. (Although, I don't see many teens carrying around lunch boxes at all--so not cool. So maybe I could even figure out what would be cool for teens to carry their lunches in and start a whole new phenomenon. Kind of like how Segways and Androids are notoriously cool. But instead of calling it a lunch box which all teens automatically know is not cool, I will call it a Bieber box because all teens know that Jason Bieber is so cool. I mean Justin. Justin Bieber. Yes, of course I knew that. I didn't have to look it up.) Anyway, an adult lunch box, hmmm....okay, "adult lunch box" just makes me think it is referring to some triple X lunch box no matter how I intend it to come out. But, I do think a triple X lunch box would appeal to waaaay more adults than a lunch box with the characters from, say, Jerseylicious or The Bachelor, would. Although, seriously, now that I think it out loud, I think a The Bachelor lunch box would be really cool. Or like a The Office lunch box! How cool would you be carrying a The Office lunch box with a big picture of Steve Carell and the rest of the cast on it, to work. No, honey, I know you would not feel cool at all sporting a The Office lunch box. But my intended audience does not know Warehouse 13 or Murder She Wrote. And obviously, Warehouse 13 lunchbox, geeky. But I do think Murder She Wrote would be a hilariously cool lunch box in the way that it is ironically cool. Yes, no, I'm not saying my lunchboxes would be made entirely out of iron. Haha. But there you go, a King of Queens lunchbox! I know who would be sporting that one! Best TV series ever!!! Oh, now the floodgates are open. The list goes on and on for PG adult lunchboxes. This is so exciting. Let me post the note that I would have put in your PG adult lunchbox so I can get back to flushing out this brilliant business idea. Wait a minute, drop the "adult" and it is PG Lunchbox. Yes!



Gosh, I'm going to look like a "working girl" when picking up our daughter from school today.


Sunday

Glass Half-Full

I do not have a smart-phone. Yes, you read that right. I don't have a smart-phone. I am a 41 year old, SAHM/WAHM living in the burbs with an Ericsson cellphone from 2006. That's right. Not even an old blackberry! "How does she do it?", you might be asking yourself, unless you just flat out refuse to believe the validity of this statement. And don't get me wrong...it's not like I'm holding out or protesting smart-phones, or wanting not to appear to be "another one of those smart-phone users", or something ridiculous like that. I am totally jealous of all of you with your smart-phones. I would love to have one. And I am holding out hope, like any sane person would, for the day when I will part with the extra money it will require of me to obtain one. Until that time, I will practice optimism. I will focus on what I do have. I have this blog now, so that is totally cool. I have tons of other stuff I can use to do a majority of the functions that a smart-phone would provide. I have this laptop upon which I am typing. We have an iPad to share at home which was an amazing gift from my parents. I have a digital camera, which, again, was a gift from my family. Come to think of it, I have a pretty amazing and wonderful family, with whom I am still able to communicate using my regular old cellphone. I do have unlimited texting on my cellphone plan which allows me to send and receive texts. It may take me 35 minutes just to type, "Hi! I'll be there in 5 minutes," which is why I usually just show up in 5 minutes and then just say, "Hi!". Oh, and I even have more room in my purse or my pocket because the size of my cellphone is very small. And it's light. And I have probably dropped it like seven or eight hundred times and it still works. All of this is good, good stuff.

So, yeah, things are looking up. It is going to be a good day.

Saturday

You Can't Fake "Cool"

I know this. Because I now know, without a doubt, that I am sooo not cool. I had always suspected this to be the case, but today I was able to confirm it. I just took my first hip-hop dance class with a bunch of dancers who were all cool. I stood out like the "tall, skinny white chick who is trying to hide in the back row but is conspicuously wearing anal yoga clothes," that I was.  (Believe me, yoga clothes look anal in a hip-hop class, so if you finally get your courage up to try your first one, do not wear the fruity garb that you would normally wear to yoga. Wear anything but that. Seriously. Wear your pajamas, your jeans, your lounging around the house on Sunday clothes, or dress to the nines. But do not wear yoga clothes. The only thing that would look more anal and uptight in a hip-hop class might be your "ladies' tennis league" clothes, but just by a hair.) I was the one who you took pity on because she was just painful to watch. No, not like in a "ha-ha, she's totally off the beat" or "look at that one who's doing her own thing" kind of way. No. The one you are watching, like at a recital, thinking, "oh, I would not want to be her." You don't even lean over and laugh at her with the person next to you because it is really just too sad to be funny. That's the one I would have been if this had been a recital. I would have been the one who is actually able to make the audience feel uncomfortable because they can not jump up from their seats, rush up on the stage and physically stop her from completely and publicly humiliating herself and her family in the process.

And the instructor took a video, so there is proof of this.....somewhere.....

Seeing my reflection this morning in the mirrors of the classroom, I now know the reason there is no reality TV show titled, "So You Know You Can't Dance". People don't want to see that. Trust me.

I will be returning to class next Saturday, though, in the hopes that some coolness will rub off on me. (Plus, I spent hours this evening studying Ciara music videos, so that should really help a lot.)

Friday

Another Very Compelling Post...

Not. (Gosh, how to you type a word's inflection as if you are speaking it? I need to invent some sort of visual sound byte convention, kind of like those little "emotions" you can now insert in all your texts except way more expressive than a smiley face.) Anyway, no, I don't really have anything compelling to convey to you again today. I was just joshing with you. Sorry.  ;-)   (Totally old school wink right there.)

No, but seriously, I have spent the whole morning doing research in order to enhance my blog with all the latest and greatest bells and whistles and to start sewing my personal thread into the fabric of the blogging community. And my thread would be just one of infinitely many fibers in the endless tapestry that is cyberspace. Yeah, they call it space for a reason. Space has no boundaries or limits or beginning or end. It is infinite. It's like, "Where does space exist? Well, where does it not exist?". Like any number divided by zero. You just don't want to go there. But I tried to this morning. Tried to get my head around following, feeding, subscribing, +1ing, linking, liking, circles, sharing. I have to stop. I'm getting dizzy again. The bottom line is, I'm never gonna figure this stuff out. I may learn to use some of it in my favor, but really, if you stumble across these characters on your screen or phone or whatever it is in 3 years from now, what would give you pause. There is only so much time you have and now there is more data at your finger tips then you could ever even being to assimilate. I dunno.

There was going to be a lot more to this post but I wrote this on Friday and now it is Saturday and I don't remember what I was thinking at the time. I think I could get back to that place in my head with some effort, so I may take this subject up again later, but probably not. Deadlines for my posts are contingent upon when my little girl morphs into the Tazmanian Devil and it is all I can do to protect my post and myself (in that order) until we can reach safety and triage the situation.This is what as known as a hard deadline.

Thursday

Growing Pains

I was reading my buzzillionth (yes, that's right, one of a buzzillion) parenting books yesterday and it had this questionnaire to see if you were a "normal" parent...or something like that anyway. Sometimes I don't pay too much attention. Anyway, one question I read kind of got me thinking. It was this: "Is parenting what you expected it to be?" And my first thought, of course, is, "Du-uh, no. Of course it is waaay harder, everyone knows that. And of course my life for the past 3 years has been filled with 'I had no idea that such 'n such was gonna be like this'". And so on and so forth. But after about half a second, I realized what really struck me about this question. For me, I just had no idea how much growing up I had ahead of me. And I am not talking about growing in height because I was already 38 when I had my daughter and now I'm 41 and I'm pretty sure I'm not getting any taller. I think the most challenging part for me is unlearning a lot of the stuff that used to matter to me and is just not going to work for me anymore. And that is not easy. No. Especially for someone like me. When I learn something my brain hardcodes it into my very being. Kind of like when my daughter decided two weeks ago that we were going to move the kitchen trash can to a new place in the kitchen. Two weeks later, I am still going to where the trash used to live to throw things away. It is just hardwired into the trash circuits in my brain. It has been two whole weeks and I can't even reprogram that one little part of my brain that has been trained to throw trash out on that side of the kitchen.

But I know there is hope for me because I keep seeing signs of progress. I mean, I still can't find the trash can. But sometimes I will recognize an empathetic smile another Mom gives me and it lifts me up. Or maybe sharing a laugh with another Mom, somehow reassures us both.

The possibilities of growth are infinite, whether you are 3 or 41.

Wednesday

Duh.

So, there is already an "About Me" link on the default page layout for complete newbie, wannabe bloggers like myself. Great. If you have no idea what I am talking about and actually want to know, see my post titled, Great. And, if not, well, I don't blame you.

Also, I kind of wish the posts were actually displayed in chronological order from oldest to newest, top to bottom on my blog, instead of what I would consider to be reverse chronological order. But I'm sure all the minutiae of blogging will become more sensible with experience. The mysteries of blogging will begin to unfold before me and I will experience some kind of blogger zen state of being. I'm looking forward to it.

Great.

Okay, well, my day is ruined and it is not even 7:30 in the morning. I woke up with all these new ideas for my new blog: adding a profile, joining some blog circles, conquering the internet, etc. Needless to say, that is not going to happen. First mistake: researching other blogs. Here I was, full of passion, enthusiasm, optimism, that I would have something unique to offer, something that would stimulate the mind, inspire the soul, and unite the masses. But now I know that it has clearly all been done. There must be something like a couple hundred million blogs out there. I read and I read blog after blog. I laughed. I cried. I identified with so many bloggers. And then I began to think, "What could I possibly add to this milieu of internet wisdom and artistic expression worthy of the ether on which it is transmitted?" Well, I did just use the word "milieu" in a sentence. So now my reader (Yes, I do mean "reader". That's singular.) does not have to look up the correct spelling for milieu, since I already did it.

 I digress. (Yep, looked that one up, too.) Bottom line here, what's my motivation? It's all been done. Much of it very well, too. What do I possibly have to add to the infinite list of blogs that are currently residing in cyberspace?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Most likely, very little. But I guess I can be okay with that.

Stay tuned for my profile, once I figure out how to add it. And while I mention that, I also am torn because I really like this very simple page layout which is like the default page layout for newbies like me to start having blogs while expending very little time and effort. However, I probably with do one of those "about me" vanity links and I'll have to try to figure out where that goes.

So yes, it is going to be exciting! Stay tuned!

Tuesday

And She's Off....

Omg. I have a blog. I had no idea how easy it is to have a blog. But look, just two minutes ago I did not have a blog. I never had any blog. I was blogless. And now I am, at this exact moment, blogging on my very own blog. I am officially a blogger. And it took very little skill at all to start this blog, as you may have guessed from reading it thus far...but oh the possibilities! I will build a following. I will get sponsership, advertisers. I will build an audience. I will connect with so many people that I will go mainstream and maybe even viral. I will get my own book deal and then go on the talk show circuit. It is inevitable at this point. But, I have to start somewhere, and so it is here.

Okay. I just previewed my first official blog post on my very own blog. This is so cool.

Okay. Now I just tried to edit my first post and clearly I have no idea what I am doing. This whole blog thing is going to be a little harder than I thought.

And now I have writer's block. My very first blog post in the history of the world and I already have writer's block. Blogger's block. That sounds funny in my head. "Blogger's block, blogger's block". It's taunting me.

Okay. No. Seriously. This blog is already not turning out how I wanted it. I've said nothing so far. Nothing. This blog is meant to be a serious blog for serious people to be taken seriously and enrich the blogging community.

Also, this blog is meant to be sort of anonymous. So, if you discover my true identity when I send you this link via email and beg you to read my blog, please try not to figure out who I actually am. Or else, just try to forget whose blog it is that you are reading. And as I relay the stories of my life and the people in it, I will be sure to change the names of my daughter, my husband, my family, my friends, my dog, my cat, and anyone else I know to protect their true identities, but, unfortunately, you probably know who you are unless you can truly forget who I am as I have requested.

Okay. Yes. This first blog post is totally lame and I'm sure that by now you have no idea why you are still reading it, but these posts will get better. That is my solemn oath as a future lead blogger of America. These posts will improve. I hope.