September, 2009

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29
Sep 09

i heart guinea pigs

guinea

more random & fascinating confessions most of which my mom shouldn’t read:

i am a major underachiever & huge procrastinator, but i did pretty well in school anyway. i am more of a street smarts, common sense kind of girl, but i always wonder what amazing things i would have accomplished had i truly applied myself. although, my english scores were very high, i was in basic skills math & retard science. i still struggled in those too. eventually i grew boobs and said fuck it.

i may have once slept with a mafia don. i am not investigating any further.

i stalked a boy in high school. okay, several. on foot. with binoculars.

uncle buck is my all time favorite movie. i named one of my daughters after one of the characters.

it’s not the posting of unearthed sex tapes or naked pictures (both of which i have never wittingly submitted to) on the web that concerns me. it’s if my gut looks fat or if you can see the cottage cheese on my ass that truly worries me.

i  find the smell of beer on a man’s breath to be sexy. that is really warped.

i still have all of my sticker albums. the stickers are in MINT condition. most still in original packaging.

when i get mad i shop. take that visa! i shopped a lot during my crappy marriage. this did not help my crappy marriage at all, but i have a kickin’ wardrobe.

i obsessively use the notes app on my phone to remember song lyrics so i can google them later to get the title & download them for my ipod.

i started a female pant suit revolution at my first job fresh out of college in 1993. i have authority issues. they breathed a sigh of relief when i quit. i am not meant for corporate life.

when i was 21, i came home late from a date & i busted my dad smoking pot. we went into the house & he sat on the bed of my childhood room while i lectured him on the evils of its usage. for an hour.

i worked at the freehold raceway mall before it opened to set up the gap there. when it opened they hired all new people. working at the gap sucks. i still fold my jeans the way i was taught.

as a teenager & into college, i shoplifted from mostly any retail establishment for which i worked. i found it to be quite a thrill. i totally understand winona rider.

when i was a freshman in college, i briefly dated a high school senior. i went to his prom.

sometimes i wonder if the people on billboards look familiar to me because i actually know them or just from driving past them every day.

when i watch really old reruns & there are old people on the show, i say to myself, that person must be dead by now. conversely, i wonder how the child actors turned out.

in college i peed behind a dumpster. several times. i also passed out on the floor of the girl’s bathroom in my freshman dorm after puking my guts out. several times. i drank a lot in college. i was nicknamed “booter.”

i had a major obsession with garfield when i was kid. i drew him constantly, read every book, and set up a residence for him & his girlfriend in my room. i had about 30 or so stuffed garfields & pals. i also slept with one of my stuffed garfields (& a nightlight) until i got married. i still have them all, but i am trying to get rid of the husband.

after college, while looking for a real job, i was a bank teller. since, i suck at math, my till was short often. i got fired. i still make sure all of my money is facing the same way & in order of denomination in my wallet.

i was an ugly duckling: i was born with one eye that crossed in & wore bifocals from 18 mos to 16 yrs.  my feet turned inward and i had to wear shoes on a metal brace until they faced out. i was never allowed to sit “indian style.” when i was 12, i was diagnosed with minor scoliosis. i cleaned up nice though.

i used to get spontaneous bloody noses from allergies as a kid without warning. this was a fun party trick and most endearing to the hostesses.

at the end of my senior year of high school, a bunch of my friends & i stole a street sign with my name on it by knocking it down with a baseball bat. we were unaware that this was a felony. i still have it displayed in my home.

i had a “valley girl” sleepover party for my 13th birthday. everybody had to dress like valley girls & talk that way. i was like, oh my gawd, a huge dork.

mere days after i got my license and brandy new honda civic, i smashed it into a car that was pulling out of a parking spot at woodbridge mall because i gunned the gas instead of the stomping on the brakes. my bff was in the car. after the information exchange with the bewildered driver, we still went shopping. i bought a pair of sneakers which i then returned a week later but i made my mom drive me. it was years before i ever drove back there. the woman said to my dad, “meester, i don know where she came from.” my crazy bff still drove all over the place with me.

the manner in which i lost my virginity would most certainly be considered date rape today. it was over 21 years ago & i still have not forgiven that guy. i most likely never will.

surgeries: age 12: 8 molars removed age 15: nose job, age 18: 4 impacted wisdom teeth removed, age 21: breast reduction, age 30 & 33: 2  c-sections. age 35: lumpectomy (benign, thank god) age 36: corrective eye surgery for the cross. i sincerely hope i am done.

i secretly love lite fm. i have an entire playlist on itunes. i know all the words to most of the songs. brandy & wildfire are in my top 10.

i LOVE guinea pigs. i had 2 as a kid before it was cool to own them. i had a sleepover with my childhood bff & let “miss piggy” run around in her sleeping bag. the pig left many “gifts.” her mom was not pleased. the modern day guinea pig cult following pleases me to no end. i got not 1, but 2 for my kids when the divorce started. $200 later i realized they are cute, but a pain in the ass to take care of when you live immigrants style in a tiny room with 2 other small people. my kids lost interest in the piggys & i gave them away on craig’s list after 2 months. i still feel guilty & hope they are living happy little guinea pig lives. now i just collect guinea pig books & leave it at that.

my best friend in high school and i spent hours after school cataloging every possible way we wanted to be kissed. we didn’t have boyfriends, but we once hooked up in a foursome situation, latter dubbed “switcheroo with ____ & sue.” i was thrilled until i figured out they just both wanted to hook up with her and i was a mercy killing. she was & still is way hot, no matter how many kids she pops out. you know who you are, bitch.

when i 20 years old and flying home from UF for the holidays one year, i sat next this weird artsy couple. i had the window seat and was essentially trapped. the lady grabbed my hand & said she did “readings” and proceeded to read my palm without my consent. she told me that when i was 40 i would have a major illness but i would recover. i have obsessed about it ever since. when i was 36 & had a lump removed from my breast, and i wondered if that was the illness of which she spoke, but i couldn’t be sure. i have 2 more years to worry about it. so now i fear, “what if i am going through this terrible divorce (14 mos so far) and then i die (god forbid) or the world ending prophecies are true and i never get to enjoy my freedom?” sigh. i am sure she has long since forgotten me & that plane ride, but here i am 17 years later still worrying. it made me realize that you can have a lasting impact on people, positive or negative, long after you have moved on. so be more responsible, you crazy palm readers.

last year, i went on  a date with a 25 yr old. during dinner he got carded and i didn’t. i then strongly suspected he was not even 21. i went back to his dorm room anyway. i was curious.

i have had at least 13 different jobs i can remember & sucked at all of them. in no particular order: ceramics assistant at a camp   (i spilled an entire bag of slip), babysitter (i got nail polish all over someone’s table), grocery store cashier (before the days of scanners), marty’s shoes store clerk, gap sales person, gap kids saleperson ( hello, may i help you find a size?), secretary (for a day – i left after lunch & never returned), bank teller ( we know how that went), payroll sales person at ADP ( i  faked most of my sales numbers), interior design assistant (i helped her organize by throwing out most of her source materials), wallpaper/window treatment sales person inside a paint store (i prayed i got the measurements correct when it was time for pickup/installation), pharmaceutical sales rep ( i was terrified of the office staff & drs. & my main drug was a market dog), psychological study research assistant ( i fudged all of my “research” for some poor dude’s thesis), & interior designer of my own ‘firm” for 11 months (when i was 9 months preggers, i had to sue my very first clients for stopping a check. the entire endeavor actually cost us money. i gladly gave up that empire soon after the first baby came).

when i was 10, i became completely obsessed with puberty & getting my period. i had an entire “starter kit” full of the proper materials under my bed that was ready to go when the time came (it sat dormant for 5 years). i studied the book, what’s happening to me, way before anything was actually happening to me. i still own it. i was actually happy when i sprouted 2 armpit hairs one day. i did flips when i got a giant bush (subsequently, i became a fastidious groomer way ahead of my time when i discovered i could do neat tricks with a hair clipper). i was a strange child.

i have a problem with honesty. too much of it. this why i tell you people all of this crap that is better kept to myself. i most likely have a weird need for self-deprecating attention.

baby hershey, pig #1. way cute.

baby hershey, pig #1. way cute.

cuddles, pig #2. also way cute.

cuddles, pig #2. also way cute.

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23
Sep 09

the ebaybe years

several years ago i discovered the most glorious website ever invented. the greatest testament to capitalism, american style, thy name is ebay. it was in the early ’00’s. ebay was in its heyday and my budget knew no bounds. literally over night, i became obsessed with this amazing online bidding phenomenon. after i quickly ran out of  practical items to purchase, i  started collecting like i had never collected before. i have been known to dabble in OCD & that combined with my failing, yet lucrative marriage made my romance with ebay’s ability to score me rare items, on which i could outbid anybody by putting in astronomical amounts, simply unavoidable. i went through major purchasing phases of different genres of items for years. i bought household items, clothing, shoes (every style of high heeled michael kors clog), designer purses, custom made bedazzled tee shirts ( i had an in with every seller)  to name a few. and everything had to be new with tags (NWT).  my feedback score is so high because of all the crap i bought, not sold. selling came  later & we shall get to that i assure you. i was sure that if something couldn’t be found on ebay, it  just didn’t exist. if you mentioned looking for something & were unable to find it, my standard response was, “did you check ebay?”

soon, my loneliness in my loveless marriage was replaced by the all consuming passion of finding my childhood items. neither my mom, nor i were big savers. so i got rid of mostly everything i had as a kid. i was rediscovering long lost items. extensively researching them, stalking, & tracking them down on ebay. offering outrageous “buy it nows” (BIN) to sellers who thought i was loopy. but my silght OCD could not allow me to rest until that item was in my hand. and all the toys absolutely had to be MINT. yes, obviously, i have perfectionist issues too. finding unused perfect toys from 30 years ago will significantly up the cash value of such items. i was buying bristle blocks, vintage board games like don’t tip the waiter, old school candyland, perfection & superfection (both of which gave my then 2 yr old a heart attack), alpha blocks, 42 boxes of vintage colorforms, miscellaneous dolls (remember dressy bessy?), several libraries of children’s books (ahh, my beloved sweet pickles set), 6 richard scarry playskool sets, weebles, fashion plates, sets of garbage pail kids cards, barbie’s hair salon, & basically every toy i could remember ever having owned. but the coup de gras was the fisher price little people (FPLP to those of us in the biz. ebay has its own language born of limits of letters on auction titles). and i remember clearly when i lost my mind over FPLP. there was a lot to learn & i was a quick study.

FPLP had their own following. a community complete with discussion boards and i fast became the ultimate ebay nerd bedecked in a bedazzled ebay t-shirt. i was thrilled to learn that there were tons of little peeps. there were the typical guys you knew, but i discovered something called the variation: these were LPs with the rare colored body, the unusual expression, the european versions, ethnicitized versions, wood bodies, plastic bodies, mistakes that came out of the factory: all highly collectible. oh, but one had to beware beacuse deviant FPLP sellers lurked among us. very very bad boys & girls who manufactured fake deviations in their domestic subterranean toy laboratories. selling them for crazy money to those poor little lambs who didn’t know. there are books & websites dedicated to cataloging authentic peeps & known fakes. it was like the fisher price CIA. but nonetheless, i had to have every single one of them. i got hooked up with another FPLP looney-toon and she started selling to me directly through my own personal auctions. she must have been happy as a pig in shit because i didn’t care what it cost if i wanted it. i was collecting the playsets too. i had to have a complete perfect set with a mint set of people. i had to own every set ever made. even if i already had the people that went to the playset, i needed a new set of peeps just for that playset. i was an FPLP snob. not only were they residing in sixteen (yes, 16) compartmentalized containers, labeled by type (via professional label maker, because i tolds ya i don’t do much 1/2 assed) but i cataloged my FPLP via an excel spread sheet. omg. a spread sheet? i was hitting rock bottom fast. how crazy was i becoming in the quest for happiness in my life? i was losing my mind & i didn’t care. i had teeny tiny plastic people to whom i could tell my troubles and who loved me (and that’s i have ever really wanted: just to be loved. well, by a full sized male human). i wouldn’t even let my kids play with the peeps for fear they might muss their mint condition status. one errant smudge or paint chip and it was all over. simultaneously, i was planning my basement remodel. i had so many FP playsets & FPLPs that i actually designed a shelving system to display all of it. my reality check came when i left my laptop out one day signed into my ebay account and mr. asspants saw the exorbitant amount of money i had spent on FPLP. he lost his shit, rightly so, and forbade me to buy anymore. shah. whatever. i would be damned if he was going to take the only joy i experienced outside of my children away from me. especially when he was the catalyst in the first place. but like it or not, i did start to see what i was becoming: a full blown mental patient. i had to stop or i had to find a 12 step FPLP recovery program. it was downright nuts & besides, storage was becoming an issue. eventually i sold off most of the childhood finds & the FPLP, but i still have approximately 272 tiny little people living here with me in my divorce process dorm room (formerly the room known as, guest). i will never unload them for more than a fraction of what i paid, so i actually let my girls play with them now. well, most of them. okay, not the sesame street people. a mint prairie dawn in worth like 50 bucks. and a mint herry monster?  priceless. they come up for bid only during a harvest moon.

DSCN0346

another part of my ebay insanity was to keep buying new sets of the same thing to upgrade it: i.e. my colorforms. if i found a rare set, say the highly coveted holly hobby glow in the dark house that i paid over 70 clams for, but if one colorform was missing, i would hold the set until a complete set came along, buy the new set & resell the one i had. usually at a loss or barely break even. i did this with all kinds of things, but vinatge toys mostly. i didn’t care if i sold at a loss because i was in search of the perfect set, not a profit. i went so far as to start an ebay group for a colorform exchange program. i am not making this up. i am truly that obsessive. you have an extra i need? i have one you need. let’s exchange them. surely i can’t be the only whack job buying entire sets for 1 colorform.  umm, yah, turns out i was. ebay folded the group due to lack of interest. yay, another new low.

finally,  i came to my senses and parlayed this bizarre talent into actually selling for a profit. der kommissar had such a tight hold on the family finances that i had to make some cash for myself. so i began selling anything in my house that wasn’t nailed down. i didn’t care what i made. i just wanted liquidity. i was basically scamming him. i would buy items with the credit card & then resell them on ebay when i was done with the item. this was the most fabulous justification for shopping because everything had untapped resale potential. so i reasoned i was going to make the cash back. however, it did add a certain slightly stressful edge to daily life when i had to keep not only the item, but the packaging too,  in what i called” ebay condition.” i even purchased plastic 1/2 body dummies to model my clothes upon for the re-sale photos. i got a tripod & set up a photo studio in my basement. i was fuckin’ hard-core. i don’t mess around, my homies. i rarely made my anticipated killing though.

at this point  a few years had passed (time does fly online), & i had become such an ebay efficienato, that friends & family were taking notice. i knew all the tricks of the e-trade. there was nothing i couldn’t buy or sell on ebay and they wanted in. i became an ebay power seller, people (for rills! they sent me a certificate and everything). at first it was a great idea. i designed business cards and a logo and dubbed myself “the tidy terror,” which i think is perfectly self explanatory. i was selling anything you asked me to for a 50/50 split of the profit after the ebay fees. hefty commission fer sure, but i got results. it became an all encompassing endeavor with more & more people wanting me to sell stuff. and i had to be diplomatic about their items. everyone thinks they have the best crap in town and it’s worth a fortune. what we all didn’t know was that the ebay market was about to bottom out from sheer seller saturation. it was getting harder & harder to sell regular items. only in demand craft items or rare & vintage items were still selling. i was losing money in fees for unsold merchandise & drowning in a sea of other people’s used clothes. let’s not even discuss how often an obsessive person like myself checks to see if her listings have any bids. there is a whole bidding strategy in which people wait til the last minute to bid, called “bid sniping.” it was driving me out of my ebay ravaged mind checking every 20 minutes for 7 days. and ebay shows you how many watchers you have. you can have 99 watchers & no bids on the same item someone else sold for a zillion dollars the week before. the ebay universe follows no rhyme or reason and it just became too much weight to bear. also, the pressure from my “clients” was becoming unbearable. i was crushing their dreams of new louis vuittons with slouching sales & poor profits.

then there was the shipping and packing: a production in & of itself. i was up late at night listing my items & exhausted in the morning packing them. i was spending hours packing & shipping items all over the place. i had purchased a postal scale, bubble mailers, shipping labels, packing tape, & was saving hundreds of boxes in my garage. i kept every box that was ebay worthy because it cut into the profit margin to buy boxes. recycling shipping supplies was a must for the same reason. i had piles of packing materials & bags of styrofoam peanuts. my mother was bringing her boxes & used wrappings over to my garage. it was out of hand – i had a gd shipping center in my basement. i had my own account with ups & the usps for jeebus chisto sakes. it was clear i had to retire and my passion for all things ebay began to subside. when all was said and done i really didn’t make money. it takes a 24/7 dedication to selling on ebay to make a real living at it. oh and a storage facility. and maybe an assistant over age 5.

however, my shining ebay moment came after that when i was redoing my kitchen and i sold the old kitchen on ebay for a few thousand dollars. i sold an entire kitchen people. literally selling everything and the kitchen sink.

the divorce proceedings really killed my whole ebay thing. i was very busy responding to false claims & general lunacy, that i had no time anymore for my previous ebay passion. then the asshat had blocked me from all of the finances and refused to pay the credit cards. ebay shopping kind of lost its appeal while he was busy trying to destroy my credit.  but most recently, a dear friend asked me to help her and sell a few things for her. so i am dipping my toes back into the ebay pool slowly & cautiously. i made no promises to her, but i went to her house, collected items, measured, photographed, described, listed, & i am hoping for the best. if the results are favorable, the ebaybe just may make a comeback – i still have a few tricks up my sleeve…

the ebaybe’s 5 simple rules for ebay happiness:

yes, i will sell your crap for you on ebay, half, or craig’s list: provided you are willing to abide by these 5 simple little rules:

1. i am the ebaybe. the ebaybe shall not be questioned. i decide the amount i will list your stuff for & if it’s even a saleable item. everybody thinks their crap is the best stuff ever & worth a fortune. newsflash: it’s not. unless you have a majorly rare item or pristine antique. in which case, you should be talking to christie’s or the comic store guy & not me. plus people are on ebay to save money.  this means they want cheap stuff. it’s little more than a giant glorified garage sale for the entire world.

2. you do not get to “bust the trade” so to speak, if you are unhappy with the final bid amount on your item. this is a big no-no on ebay and will fuck up my perfect 100% feedback score. understand, as a seller on ebay, all you have is your feedback score and i am already jeopardizing it by even getting involved with you & your crap in the first place. my feedback makes my lovely items more desirable over some other schmuck’s same exact crap. so the moral of the story is” you get what you get and you don’t get upset. ” well you can get upset, but i don’t want to hear about it.

3. selling shit on ebay is a very involved process, therefore i am not doing it out of the goodness of my heart. i will come to your house, inspect your items, take them home, photograph them, measure them, list them, deal with all the idiots & freaks on ebay, pack it up, & ship it. this is time consuming, therefore, i get a cut of the profits after ebay’s fee’s & commission. yes, we share the net profit, people. now, i am not a greedy person. i am a reasonable woman. but if you bug the bejeebus out of me during this process with incessant calls of “did you post it yet, ” or “how is my stuff doing?”  and etc. , my cut rises exponentionally.  go to my link & bookmark the page & keep it track of it yer damn self.  and for god’s sake, clean your goddamn stuff before i get there. no one wants to buy things with 17 years of dust on it.

4. you must take back your unsold items. i am not running a storage facility or donation bin. you are responsible for this part. i will not hesitate to throw your priceless heirlooms out if you leave them at my house for a week after they do not sell.

5. you get paid when i get paid. you will know when this happens because you will receive money from me. it takes time to get paid. you will not harass me about it. if you do, see the part in rule 3 about my cut.

now, if you still want to do business with a complete bitch, let’s talk. until then, take a look at my current auctions  (if i even have any at the time you are reading this)

check out my listings:

ebay

half.com

please…….

sent to me by steve cobbs himself


the tidy terror

the tidy terror

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17
Sep 09

the holidays are coming, the holidays are coming.

shofarso “the holidays” are coming. the jewish holidays, of course. every year at this time, like all my fellow tribesmen, i am saddled with the responsibility of explaining what the holidays “mean” to all of you gentiles. and basically, it boils down to this: there is rosh hashana (hereafter known as RH), which is the jewish new year, meaning it coincides with the hebrew calendar, hence the year 5769. this is generally two nights of unbridled stuffing of the gut with all kinds of traditional artery clogging foods. apparently, all the historical desert wandering countered the effects of over-cholesterol ingestion. RH is when we ask God to allow us to live another year by writing us into book of the life. RH is followed by yom kippur a week later. this is the day of atonement when we ask God to forgive our sins of the past year. to achieve that goal, we are expected to fast, which means we starve ourselves for 24 hours because God will reward us for such by allowing us to live another year by being written into the book of the life. i have no idea how a people who based an entire culture, history, & religious practice around communal food sharing for thousands of years, came up with this idea. i can not go for 24 minutes without food. 24 hours is out of the question.

generally in august, a panic ensues in the jewish community about “the holidays.” and we really have many holidays. like every 6 weeks at least ,but these are the holidays, the holiest of them all. most important ones we have. we start planning feverishly: all the people we are inviting, are we doing the first or second night at our house, are we doing it all this year, are we going to someone’s house, what do we bring if so? what about break the fast? are we doing the meal the night before (erev) or the actual breaking of the fast? the night before we stuff ourselves silly in the hopes of having an easy fast, that is what we wish each other, “have an easy fast. ok, you too.” breaking of the fast preparation is generally easier because it consists of what we like to call “bagels & schmears.” schmears being the spreads for the bagels. so, anyway, we literally write off all of september with promises of “we will get together after the holidays.”we are just so busy preparing. my kids went to jewish preschool- they were home more than they were in school in september. the more conservative the synagogue, the more days off. sometimes the holidays stretch into october depending upon how they fall and this causes even more time to be written off. and we expect all of you goys to know when the holidays are, but every single year some jerk plans something really big on our holiday, a hockey tournament for our kids, a school event, etc., and we flip out because they refuse to change it. it’s our plight every single year. we know when your holidays are you need to know when ours are. uch.

so, we all observe the holidays differently depending upon how religious we are. many jews use this as their reason to feel like a “good jew” and sit through hours of services at temple. sometimes morning and afternoon. but is anyone actually paying attention? i have seen dozing, snoring, & actual saliva drippage. so many jews want to be good on the”high holy days” that we actually need to have tickets to get into services. security is tighter than at an obama rally. no sneaking in. don’t try to worship without proper registration. this is how they get you to join, by promising you tickets for the holidays. some synagogues actually have to conduct these services off site becuase so many people want to aattend. the whole congregation shows up. people you haven’t even seen all year show up. when you get there, its cut throat seating. there is no seat saving so don’t even try. my parents didn’t really observe by going to temple, so as i got older i dabbled in going with friends. and was it ever boring. eventually though i came to feel like a hypocrite, because i didn’t really observe anything jewish all year, why go now? like, okay, i’m covered for the entire year if i just go these 3 days? i don’t think so.

there is the question of fasting on yom kippur. do you fast or not? do you lie & say you did? some people will drink water but not eat all day. some drink water only for taking medication. some with do neither but sleep all day (that does not count, btw, asshat). some will brush their teeth, some won’t. what time is fasting officially over? do you wait till your usual dinner time or until the shofar is blown and there are 3 stars in the sky? some drink water only for taking medication. you’re supposed to sit & pray all day, think about your sins, and starve while you do it. some claim hypoglycemia or illnesses. the only years i felt no guilt about not fasting was when i was pregnant. again my parents didn’t fast and i don’t. i did it once or twice but decided on the whole hypocrite thing and abandoned it. let myself off the hook, i did. an interesting custom is to go down to the river & cast stones into the water, each stone representing a sin you committed the past year that you want forgiven. i usually run out of  stones…

i find the holidays inspire a weird jewish competitiveness. who is a bigger martyr with more dishes to wash & more people at their house? who had the most food and spent the most money on it? the supermarket gets cleaned out. who spent longer in temple & fasted the longest? did you go both days, both sessions? who got the most fabulous outfits for the holidays? who is the first to wish you a happy new year? (innerestin’ sidenote: every year someone wishes me a happy & healthy new year & i have no idea what they are talking about at first. then i realize oh, its RH.) then in classic jewish fashion, they whine & bitch about all of it before, during, & after preparations. none of this is what i think God intended.  i don’t believe most of us really get it and change our ways, but i have been called a cynic once or twice.

of course, for me, holidays since the divorce began & after my dad’s passing have lost a certain luster to me. they have become something to get through & past rather than to celebrate. but its still family time, so we get together for too much food & sickly sweet mainschewitz. we will dip our apples into honey for a sweet new year, ask to be written into the book of life once again, and have it catered…

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7
Sep 09

i am mother. hear me slack.

tush

a few confessions from my diary of motherhood:

1. when playing interminable, yet fascinating games with my kids like candy land,  i slip the winning card in the pile for them to pick on their next turn when they aren’t looking so the game can end.

2. 90% of shows recording on my dvr are cartoons…that i watch.

3. when doing my kids’ laundry, if the clothes look clean, i.e., no obvious signs of dirt or stains, i fold them up & put them back in their rooms.

4.due to over-squeezing, my kids have forbade me from further tushy grabbing. so to get my fix, much the same way people ask, can i pet your dog?”, i will ask if i can squeeze your child’s tush.

5. i consider microwave popcorn or chips & salsa perfectly acceptable dinner choices.

6. since my first baby was born, i have redefined my personal hygiene. the new standards are quite lax.

7. several famous people i would love to meet are actually cartoon characters.

8. i have spiked my water bottle. many times.

9. during any given week, i do not brush my teeth 4 out of 7 mornings or 3 out of 7 nights.

10. sometimes i pretend not to hear my kids fighting or calling for me.

11. i have turned the heels of the bread inside out & used them to make school lunch.

12. many times when something seems to have been lost, i have previously disposed of it & then vehemently denied such.

13. sometimes i watch the disney channel at the gym..by choice.

14. i don’t dust anything above my eye level. at 5′0, this allows me a wide berth.

15. sometimes, i eat the school snacks before the kids even knew they were brought home from the supermarket.

16. i secretly hope they won’t finish their mac ‘n cheese/chicken nuggets/pizza so i can eat the leftovers.

17. to facilitate getting ready in the morning, i will pretend i don’t know they didn’t brush their teeth or hair.

18. i once instituted a sticker chart for myself. it was a great success.

19. my 5 yr old does a spot on dr. zoidberg impression.

20. i think phineas & ferb is the most brilliant cartoon ever created.

21. i have convinced my kids that posing for pictures & smiling dammit at any given time i demand, is what they owe me for giving them life.

22. when the girls refuse to clean up their stuff, i grab a garbage bag and tell them i will do it myself. this always gets immediate results.

23. some nights i am so tired, i ask my 8 yr old to read me a story.

24. i love those 2 girls more than anything in the entire world and i marvel at their intelligence & beauty.

25. i had no idea how much my parents did for me, nor did i appreciate any of it until i had my own kids.

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2
Sep 09

timing

still in love

still in love

it’s been awhile since i blogged. blame it on the suckass lemon mac back in the shop for a week for random un-guaranteed part replacements (another $300 to me & you, rusty). sigh.

today, i sit down with a heavy heart though. while i would love to be a clown all the time, i am only human and today is a tough day for the weinstein woman. today would have been my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary and i have felt it creeping up upon me like the inevitable end of summer, & the departing of the fireflies. the running joke in my family was how i forgot it every year and how my parents’ always forgave me. now it’s emblazoned upon my mind permanently – a date i can never again forget. and yes, alanis, it is ironic. of course i feel some pangs of guilt over that, but more so i am so very sad for my mother. i can only imagine how hard this day must be for her over all the other “firsts” she has had to endure since february and i feel not only the pain of my loss, but the pain of her grief as well.

in my classic “the good daughter” style, i am going to her house later to replace her automatic wall timers for the outdoor lights. an act that will confound the irony, because my father was the ultimate fix-it guy & these timers in particular are something that i associate solely with him. i am sure he was way ahead of his time as a homeowner, lo those many years ago, when he switched over to the programmable in wall timers as opposed to those primitive plug in deals. one of the first things he did when i moved into my house, was outfit us with those. “the useless one” of course, just watched him rather than actually helping, & remarked to me “why do we even need those.” to which i thought, “why wouldn’t we, mr. ungrateful?” growing up as kid in the ghett-o left it’s mark on my dad &  he was always very security conscious living even in suburbia. naturally, proper lighting was important to foiling would be evil-doers.

then there was always a whole shtick to setting these damn things to actually operate the lights according to your lighting wishes. it took me years to get it right and my dad made endless trips over here to reset them for me. since dad is gone, the mantel has been passed on to me and i have been charged with that highly specialized task at mom’s house. and you can be sure that every time i go to my mom’s, she asks me to take at look at the timers and reprogram them. after infinite unsuccessful adjustments, we decided they are busted, & i will just put in new ones.  it hasn’t occurred to my mom or me for one second to just take them out & actually use the wall switch as god intended to operate the outdoor lights. no way. we have been trained to use timers and dad gummit, use timers we shall. the commandments in the book of norm in the homeowner’s bible specifically state:” it is commanded that yea shall use programmable timers for operating all outdoor lighting.”of course i will be turning off the breakers not in the name of safety as dad taught me, (“susanne, you don’t fool around with electricity”), but rather so as not to electrocute myself with the tears that will surely be spilling over my bottom lashes while i do my electrical work. it just doesn’t seem right for me to be doing these things in his place with his tools, but i am sure he is pleased that he taught me well & i am taking care of my mother, his beloved wife. but, my lord, he has left some very big shoes to fill.

my parents anniversary always has coincided with labor day and the beginning of a new school year. as my almost 6 yr old prepares to begin first grade, it is a very bittersweet feeling for me. i am very excited for her, but conscious of my loss. my dad would have been waiting at the bus after school on her first day. both of my girls so loved when he surprised them with a visit after school. after requisite piggy back rides were completed, they would show him all of their papers and have a snack together. i am forever grateful for the time my children had with him.

and this year, in spirit, my father gifts us on his anniversary. he gifted me with his teachings that allow me to be the strong, independent woman i am that i will use to gift my mother by changing her timers. to those on the outside a small, possibly needless act, but to us it has enormous meaning.

the tool bench. you did not violate it ever.

the tool bench. you did not violate it ever.

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