Friday, June 29, 2012

The Magazine

I have a bone to pick with Oprah. Oprah Winfrey. You heard right, I'm not afraid to pick bones with her majesty, I've got some balls.

Here's the thing. I used to have a subscription to O magazine. No, it did not come free with my subscription to the Utne Reader or Atlantic Monthly, or the New Yorker, I ordered it of my own free will, and I enjoy it. I even read Dr. Phil and Oprah's what I know for sure, and it helps me kill time while I'm not cooking dinner. Anyhoo, I started to get real irritated because I believe that, as a subscriber, someone who keeps circulation numbers up and helps sell advertising so Oprah can buy more dogs and chenille throws, I should receive the magazine at least one day before it hits the news stands, and never one day later. But that didn't happen with O. I would go to the grocery store, and longingly look at the issue in the magazine rack, wanting desperately to read what nuggets Suze Orman had for me, and I would have to wait, sometimes very impatiently, for my issue to come in the mail. I even called the 800 number for the circulation department a few times to complain, and all they could tell me was that it isn't considered late until the last day of the month of the issue, or some B.S. like that.

I let my subscription lapse for this reason. I thought, "to hell with this." and I started to buy it at the grocery store along with tampons and instant oatmeal. But the cover price is so much more than the subscription price, and I love getting anything in the mail that isn't junk or bills, and Oprah herself kept sending me letters and offers for 50% of the newstand price, and finally I succumbed to her wooing, and ordered a two- year subscription.

Yesterday, I watched the Oprah episode with Ellen Degeneres and Portia DeRossi talking about their love (I let Leila watch it too, I thought it was a good teachable moment) and Oprah and Ellen went on and on about how they shot the cover for the December issue ON NEWS STANDS NOVEMBER 12! They were on Michigan Avenue in Chicago giving away free autographed copies, and you know what? I DONT HAVE MY NOVEMBER ISSUE YET! Don't tease me with December when I haven't even seen the Thanksgiving recipes that I will never make in the November issue!

As I write this, I am worried that I did get the November issue, and on of my rare cleaning jags, I put it away in the designated magazine place in my bedroom and forgot about it. Hold on a sec' I'm gonna go check...

No! Ha! I was right! October is in there, and November is nowhere! My subscription just started a few months ago so I have, like, a year and a half of this bullshit left.

I'm calling you out, Oprah! (or Ms. Winfrey if you're nasty) I want my November issue in the mail TODAY and I want the December issue in the mail TOMORROW, one day before I see it in the grocery store, or else! Or else I will, um, not watch your favorite things episode? Nah, can't do that, I love that episode. I know! I will NOT read your book club selection! So there!!!

(Here's the other thing, though: if, like in my fantasy land where I'm thin and my feet are two sizes smaller, I am ever on the Oprah show, or if she showed up at my door with a camera crew to hand me my November issue in person, I would totally recant and blubber and be all, "Oh, Oprah, I didn't really mean it! Your magazine is always worth the wait! Ha ha ha!" So really, I don't have any balls at all.)

***ADDENDUM*** Just got my mail, and my magazine did not come today. Oh, its ON!

AND THEN THIS HAPPENED...

Do you see what I see?

Um, so, okay. The other night, a few hours after I wrote the last post, giving Oprah what for, I was watching a movie on TV, and I happened to glance down at the little shelf under the side table where we keep, um, magazines. I saw exactly what is pictured above. Inside the circle is the familiar font that is found on the cover of, um, O Magazine. I reached over and picked it up and, um, it was the November issue that I had just finished ranting about.

It gets worse.

I showed it to Rob, I felt like a moron, and when the movie was over, I thumbed through it. Not only did I receive the November issue, probably on time, but I'd already read it. I hadn't just given it a cursory glance, either. I had read everything that I was interested in reading, so I'm done with it and can pass it on to another reader.

Then you know what happened today? November 12th? I got the December issue, right when Oprah said I would.

So, its time to eat a little shit, and apologize to Oprah and her circulation department, who were a few days away from getting a bitchy call from me. Sorry, guys, I'm a loser.

But! In my defense! My furniture is all jumbled up because of the new sofa! I was overwhelmed by decorating projects and my impending trip and my birthday, and I was, y'know, confused!!!

No, I'm just a loser. I'm tired from all this apologizing, so I'm now going to put my feet up on my new sofa, and read the December issue of O magazine, and a month from now I will probably be in a huff because I will think I never got it.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Me, On Oprah



Did you see me?



Okay, did you see me that time?

That's me right there, leaning over to tell E.  that I need a Container Store gift card
like I need a hole in the head.

My moment of glory, over in about half a second. 
Totally worth it, though.  Totally.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Oprah Recap - Part 2

Now, here's the stuff you really want to know:

We got the straight haired Oprah, rather than the curly haired Oprah, and I will tell you that she looks just like Oprah.  No taller or shorter, no bigger or smaller, she looks just like the Oprah you see every day on your TV. So she walks out and kind of waves and sits down in her interview seat, and then someone comes out and puts her shoes on for her, and then someone comes out and adjusts her sweater, and then her make up guy comes out and touches up her make up.  Then she made a joke about how when you're as rich as she is, no one will let you do anything for yourself.

Here's the interesting thing:  I realized that the show is not done for the studio audience.  We are a prop.  Which is not to say that it wasn't super cool and something that I will remember forever, but she and her guests are mic'd up for the camera, not the audience, and Oprah comes out, does her show like a smooth pro, hangs with the audience for a few minutes, and leaves the stage to go on with her day. 

So here it is:  Mercifully it was not Bob Greene for an hour.  Our show will air in January, and is a sort of New Year's resolution thing.  We had Dr. Oz for a segment on the five numbers you should know (blood pressure, cholesterol, waist measurement, weight, and I forget the other one) and he did a whole demo with a big blood vessel.  Then came Bob Greene talking about his five steps toward weight loss and his new book.  Honestly, I don't know what he said because I really did almost fall asleep, I was so tired.  When he left the stage we all thought, Don't we get a free copy of his book?

Then Peter Walsh, the organizing guru did a segment on de-cluttering your life, and shilled his new book, which we also didn't get a copy of, but Oprah said that everyone in the audience was getting a $100 gift card to the Container Store!  This was awesome, but also ironic since I worked at the Container Store for eighteen months and my whole house looks like a Container Store catalog.  Then came Adam Glassman, the O creative director who also does a style column in the magazine.  He came out with some models showing off new looks for fall.  Then Oprah talked about her new iPhone app, then she said, in her Oprah way, "Everyone here is going home with all this stuff!"  We all went nuts, partially because it was a bunch of free stuff, and partially because it was our job and we were all super excited to be there. 

So here is what I got:

Bootights: a combo of tights and socks to be worn under boots.  
A Chickie: an undergarment that you attach to your bra so your boobs
don't fall out when you're wearing low-cut stuff. 
Perfect for the stacked, like myself.

The Shirt, a button down shirt with cool double buttoning so, again, your boobs don't fall out
 


The Side Slope Parka from Eddie Bauer
that I took a picture of in the Eddie Bauer store on Michigan Ave:

And...

These cool Sorel Boots!

I had always wondered how they give away clothing items on the Oprah show.  I wondered if the audience had to go to some big room and try a bunch of stuff on, or if they ran out of sizes or whatever, so if you've wondered the same thing (or even if you haven't) here is the answer:  As you leave the building, you are handed a gift bag.  In our case, the bag contained the scarf (love it) and a big envelope with gift cards and vouchers.  Some of the vouchers have to be mailed in advance, some things can't be ordered until January, some take weeks to ship, but who's complaining?  Not me!  We got an Eddie Bauer gift card that we don't have to use for the parka, and I could do some good Christmas shopping with it, but, dammit, I'm getting that Oprah parka!  The women who were there with their husbands get double the stuff because the men get everything the women get.  So now you know.

It looked like Oprah had it easy that day because she came out casually, sat down, read off a tiny teleprompter like it was no thing and let the guests do the rest.  The guests really have to be on their game.  They have no teleprompter or cue cards, they have to know what they're going to say and how long they have to say it.  Then the audience claps and they leave the stage and don't come back out. 

When the taping was done, and the models and the last guest were gone, Oprah hung with the audience for a few minutes, answering some questions.  There was one woman in the audience who wouldn't shut up and just wanted everyone to know that she was in some small way connected to Oprah by talking about some animal shelter, and then another woman raised her hand and asked if she could get a picture with Oprah.  Oprah said, "Since you were bold enough to ask, come on down here."  Then every hand shot up, but she only took the one picture.  Oh yeah, there's an official photographer there throughout the whole show taking pictures or her and her guests.  

Then she said a really nice thing that I'm sure she says to all audiences, and I wish I could remember exactly how she said it.  She was all, "I know how much shopping, and manicuring and traveling and hair perming and hair straightening went in to you all being here today, and you've made us successful for 25 years and we really appreciate all the effort you've made to be here with us." or something like that, and then she said bye and left the stage. 

It went so fast!  The whole taping was an hour tops.  Then the fluffer lady came back out and gave us all the info on the gift cards and vouchers and stuff, and then we were ushered out of the studio, handed our gift bags and we were out on the street.  We were freezing, because only the person who made the reservations can get all the checked coats and phones and stuff, but we didn't care, we'd just seen Oprah!  We put our new scarves on, and went across the street to the Oprah store!

I went a little nuts in the Oprah store, and came home with a lot of souvenirs for friends and for myself that I now regret.  I'm not sure how many people want an Oprah Christmas ornament on their tree, but you're welcome!  I got one box of Oprah note cards, and I wish I'd gotten a bunch of those.  There is a section of the store called Oprah's Closet...


 where she sells clothes that she's worn before.  I almost bought a sweater, but then decided to stick with all the Oprah logo crap that was piled in my basket.  
Then we went to lunch and looked through all our vouchers and added up the value of everything and the number was over $650!  That was more than my plane ticket!  Then the server brought us this huge thing of cotton candy.  It was awesome.

We had so much fun, and it was such a once-in-a-lifetime thing.  The free stuff was nice, but it would have been great without it, too.  So I suggest you go to her website and try to get tickets for yourself and some friends.  Its totally worth it!

Chicago was fun also.  The people are really nice, and they all want to send you to their favorite steak house!
So: after all that, any questions?





Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Oprah Recap - Part One

Okay, this will serve as my own personal journal entry on the Oprah experience, so its going to be a long one.  Get comfortable.

I flew to Chicago on Wednesday, checked in to the hotel, went to grab a bite with my friends, had one glass of wine, nibbled the edge of an ambien and tried to go to sleep.  No dice.  First lesson for anyone attending the Oprah show from the west coast: get to Chicago two days before the taping, spend your first day sight seeing and getting a mani pedi, get a good night's sleep and go to the show the second day.


We were instructed to be at the studio at 7 a.m. so we got up at quarter of 6 Chicago time (quarter to 4 California time!) and got all Oprahed up.  I put on my new Oprah boots, and we took a cab to the studio.  It was still dark out.


We got there and the line was already all the way down the building in a tented line area.  Second lesson for anyone attending the Oprah show: get there earlier than they tell you to.  You get a numbered release form as you go in, and you are sent into the studio according to your number, like boarding a plane.  The higher the number, the fewer seat choices you have.  But, the studio was smaller than I expected, and there isn't a bad seat in the place.  We were lucky because even though we were the second to last group to be called down, we were on the side of the studio that The Great One was facing, so we weren't looking at the back of her head the whole time.

But backing up for a second: Once you are in the building and have received your release form, you go through security.  They check your purse and put you through a metal detector.  They take your phone and camera, and they seem to take any pieces of paper in your purse.  They took all my business cards, and I saw them taking notebooks and things like that.  I assume its because people throw stuff on stage.  The person who made the reservation (in this case, my friend, G) is in charge of the claim tickets, and everything they confiscate from your party goes into one big ziploc bag. 

Then you go up a flight of stairs to a holding area where you fill out your release form, allowing them to own your image forever and ever amen, and then we were asked to fill out a fitness and diet survey from Bob Greene.

Bob Greene, I'm pretty sure, is Oprah's personal trainer, fitness guru guy.  He writes books and stuff.  Now, I don't want to appear ungrateful, but I thought to myself, If I have to sit through an hour of Bob Greene talk about weight loss and fitness, I don't know how I'll stay awake.  You all know how I feel about this stuff: there's not a lot about weight loss and fitness that I don't understand, and I really don't want to talk about it.  Also, I was so freakin' tired.

I wish I had been wearing a watch, but I wasn't so I don't really know how long we were in that holding area.  A half hour maybe?  Then the people in charge start sending us back down stairs to the studio in groups of 50, according to the number on our release form.  For the purposes of posterity, let me just say that I was number 251.  We went down to the studio, found four seats together, and waited.  One thing you don't realize is that, even though they've confiscated a lot of the stuff in your bag, you still have your bag.  So the next time you watch Oprah, just know that all those ladies have their purse under their seat.

Then the fluffer lady comes out, and she's the one who gets the crowd going.  She's the one who asks where everyone is from, and says happy birthday to people, and answers some questions and all that stuff.  Then she gets a signal from someone saying Oprah is on her way, so she leaves the stage, and then, without any fanfare or "Ladies and Gentlemen!", carrying her high heels in her hand, comes

OPRAH!

To be continued...

Monday, June 25, 2012

November 2, 2010 - Oprah

Okay, everyone.  I have something seriously MAJOR to announce.  Oh boy this is good!

Thanks to the generosity and persistence of a good friend, I am leaving on a jet plane tomorrow morning, headed for Chicago to be in the audience of:

OPRAH!



CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS SHIT?!

I am going to be in the same room as The Great and Powerful Oprah!  La la la!  So excited!

To answer your first question, I have no idea who is going to be on the show.  The shows are taped,  they do two shows in a day, and I will be at the morning taping on Thursday.  It could be Marie Osmond.  It could be George W. Bush and his parents.  It could be... Favorite Things!

If you know Oprah at all, you know that in the month of November she does her favorite things show where she tells us all what to buy each other for Christmas and gives the audience butt-loads of free stuff.  One year she gave away refrigerators and computers and cashmere robes and stuff.  I seriously don't think that I will be lucky enough to be on that show.  I am already pretty darn lucky in most areas of my life (except for that whole no dining room thing) but I've never been someone who wins things like raffles, or sweepstakes, or the California Lottery.  Its a longshot at best.   

I have my Oprah outfit picked out, I bought some new Oprah shoes, I'm going to take this black halloween nail polish off because I don't think Oprah would like it.   If I get to ask Oprah a question, I'm going to ask her where we should eat while we're in Chicago, and I'll go where ever she tells me to.

It would be cool enough to just absorb the Oprah-ness of the experience, but I also get to spend two days in Chicago, where I have never been, with a good friend, and its not going to snow!  Yay!

Feel free to envy me, I don't blame you.  I'd be envying me, too, if I were you.

Friday, June 22, 2012

Buh-Bye!

Monday, I am leaving for a three week trip, so this will be my last post for a while.  I will regale you with reruns while I'm gone, though, so don't despair! I will be putting some pictures up on the Bored Housewife facebook page (which you can join the right hand column) and you can try to guess where I'm going...

See ya!

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Skype Hype

I usually think of myself as a pretty tech-savvy cat.  I am the IT department for my house, and I know how to fix my mom's computer when it breaks down.  (This means when there is a power outage, and it shuts down her computer, I tell her where the power button is.  She thinks I'm amazing.)  I am the one who deals with the wireless stuff, and the printer and all the other cables and crap, so my shit pretty much doesn't stink.

Here's the thing.  I cannot for the life of me figure out this Skype thing.  I created two accounts, one for me and one for Rob so we can video chat when I'm on my trip.  Video calling over wifi is supposed to be free, right?  I have him logged in on the home computer, and I have myself logged into the iPad.  It does not give me the option to video call.  I've looked everywhere, the button just isn't there.  I'm guessing it doesn't work on iPad.  I suppose I could buy us some credits or whatever, but what the hell?  I thought Skype was free?  I thought that was the whole point!  And why is an iPad not a computer?  I know its a mobile device, but how is it not also a computer?  I'm very confused.

There's no free lunch.  I run into this all the time.  When it sounds too good to be true, it is.  Skype is still cheaper than the iPhone, but this is getting so complicated.  Video chatting is not all is cracked up to be anyway.  Its a little self conscious.  I always look terrible on the camera, all chins and blotchiness, and what if I want to pick my nose, or surf the internet, or take my bra off?  I often go to the bathroom while on the phone; if I'm talking to a close friend, I flush.  They know me.  I'll wait to flush if its someone who would think I was a barbarian.  Sometimes, you just gotta go.  I couldn't go to bathroom while on video chat, though, could I? Actually, I have this one friend who totally wouldn't care.  In fact, I think she's brought her iPhone in the bathroom and peed on the facetime.

What the hell am I talking about?  Oh yeah.  Skype doesn't do what I thought it could do, and nothing's free.  Do I really need to talk to my husband while I'm gone?  Probably, I guess.  I'm going to be gone long enough that he will actually run out of clean underwear.  He'll have to call and ask me where the laundry soap is.  He's not that helpless, really, but no one folds his panties like I do.

Any Skype suggestions?

Monday, June 18, 2012

I Hate when I'm a Moron

I got a little to big for my ice cream britches today.  This is not a reference to my weight, although I can see how you would think that.

Today was Father's Day.  My Dad's favorite ice cream is Hagen Daz Dulce de Leche.  I decided that as a Father's Day treat, I would make him home-made dulce de leche ice cream.  It starts with home-made vanilla ice cream which I make with a whole vanilla bean, six egg yolks, the works.  Its not difficult, and I've made it successfully before, but there are a lot of little steps, and you have to pay attention.  The other part was making the dulce de leche, which sounds impressive enough that I probably shouldn't tell you that it is deceptively easy.  I used David Lebovitz's recipe, and the ingredient list goes like this: sweetened condensed milk.  Done.  The hardest part was getting the roasting pan down from behind all the crap in a high cabinet for the bain marie.  Do I sound like Martha Stewart right now, or what?

Everything was going fine, I felt really on my game.  The ice cream was churning, and it looked so good, so I tasted it. It was off.  Suddenly I realized I forgot to add the sugar in step one.  What a moron!  So I poured some of the dulce de leche (which came out perfectly) into the ice cream maker to see if that would sweeten the ice cream sufficiently, but all it did was melt the ice cream, and then freeze the dulce de leche into little, hard chunks.

I had to shitcan the whole thing.  I hate when I make mistakes like that.  It is necessary to have a sense of humor when stuff like this happens, but it took me a while to find it.  In fact, I'm still pissed off.  I spend the whole morning on this bullshit.

I didn't have anything else for dessert (except for an apple pie I made yesterday, which is a whole other story) So I asked Leila to call her Uncle and ask him to pick up some Hagen Daz for our dad.  Leila's message went like this, "Mom forgot to put sugar in the dulce de leche ice cream, so could you pick up some on your way?"  This made complete sense to me, but my brother brought a big-ole bag of sugar instead of ice cream.

Luckily, I don't feel the need to impress my family too much.  I did make mojitos which were awesome, but the salad had too much goat cheese.  I'm not happy unless people ooh and aah over my food.

So, that was today.  Tomorrow, I'm going to use the leftover piece of steak for a Thai steak salad thing.  Or maybe I've spent enough of my precious time in my kitchen and I will not step foot in that place.
The finished dulce, when life was still good, and nothing had gone to shit yet.

Friday, June 15, 2012

You've got to be Kidding

My daughter's ability to listen to audiobooks is truly astounding.  She's been listening to Allie Finkle's Rules for Girls NONSTOP since last Friday.  It is a beautiful and balmy 85 degrees outside, and she is in her room, shades drawn, lights on, listening to that audiobook. 

Its the first week of summer vacation, so I'm cutting her some slack, but next week, its all business.  She'll go to camp a couple of days, and hopefully get some fresh air in between all the movie making that she has planned) and I told her I'm going to start charging her $.50 whenever she fails to put away her toothbrush, toothpaste, cereal, shoes.  She thinks that is too steep, I think I will make a fortune.  She will have to pay me allowance. 

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Look, Ma! No Bra!

I haven't been leaving the house too much so I don't have a lot of incoming info to share with you all.  So last night I decided to get up to some shenanigans and went out for wine with some friends, including White Pants. Nobody got drunk, and we weren't that wild, until WP starting undressing at the table. 

We were noticing that she was a little more buxome in the chestal area than usual, and she began to sing the praises of her strapless bra.  She was so excited about it, she decided she needed to give us a before and after.  Before we knew it, she was taking off her bra and passing it around for show and tell.  And of course I took pictures.  You're welcome.

I think this is what summer vacation does to moms.  My friend called me yesterday afternoon and told me that her kids' summer vacation was only 20 minutes old and she was ready to strangle them.  Leila and I have been doing pretty well, but these incessant audiobooks have to stop.  I swear, I can't take it any more.  Camp starts next week.  I don't even know what I will do with myself!

Here are the pics of what moms get up to when summer vacation gets to be too much, and the wine is flowing...  We are normally respectable women in a respectable town, honest.

Without the bra (notice other friend on the left trying the bra on over her clothes)

With the bra.  Little more cleavage.



Wednesday, June 13, 2012

2012: Update

Remember that silly post I wrote in the beginning of the year where I swore this year would be different and I would no longer be a sugar-eating slob?  Remember that? I said I was going to be healthier and exercisier. I said I was going to quit my dumb job and stop volunteering my guts out and try to figure out a future.  I said I was going to be a better housewife.  Adorable, right?

I thought you deserved an update on this.  The easy things are done: I did quit that job that I hated, Hallelujah.  I also stopped the volunteering train, which was a no-brainer since I left the school where I did all my volunteering.  I did say No a couple of times toward the end of the school year, though, and that was a success.

I did set up my eliptical machine, but I have yet to touch it.  I do a little walking with the dog now and then, but I think its safe to say that The Year of Exercising More is a failure so far.  I just hate to move my body and sweat and breathe heavy.  I hate it.  Always have.  Oprah hates it, too, so at least I'm in good company.  Still have to work on this, though; must not get complacent.  I get winded getting the mail, and that is just embarrassing.  Ordering a side salad instead of fries?  Also a failure.  Its 9:42 in the morning right now and I am drinking my first coke of the day.  I have toyed with the idea of a cleanse, or of going off sugar for one week to see what happens, but toying with the idea is as far as I've gotten.  The store where I normally get my jelly bellies stopped stocking my favorite flavor, so maybe that will help.

The better housewife thing: Now we're getting somewhere!  I HAVE INDEED BECOME A BETTER HOUSEWIFE.  I know: crazy.  I have cleaned my stove top more in the four months that I have lived in my house then I ever did before.  I have run the Roomba ragged.  I have changed my bedsheets more often then ever in my life, and I have actually been drying and putting away dishes.  This is all a very big deal.  My New Year's Resolution to put my clothes away at the end of every day?  I am all over that shit!  I have really been doing it!  Except for last night; I had a little too much wine.  Now I have a chair in my bedroom, which I've never had before, and it is a strong clothes magnet.  My nature is to throw my jeans over the arm of that chair, but so far I've only succumbed to that force a few times.  I am hanging stuff up!!!  I've been making my bed!  I've been dusting!  Where does all this freakin' dust come from?! I borrowed my mom's vacuum and vacuumed all the couch cushions, and I just did this four months ago when I moved in!  I've sanded and oiled my wood counter tops!  I did that!!

Now, I would not go so far as to say I am a good housewife.  Oh no, that is not the case.  But I am a better housewife than I was in the fall, and that is something.  I'm not sure if I should be proud, since being a good housewife is a dubious distinction, but I see it as progress.

So, I guess 2012 is not a complete failure after all, except that I'm still a coke-swilling cow, and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up.  And I need to clean the shower.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Tear Funnel

I didn't cry.  I was surprisingly together during the last day of school, and I did not cry.  Instead, I channeled all my nostalgic, heart wrenching, parental-love feelings into consumerism.  After school, we took Leila to the local Apple store and bought her a new iPod touch.  I'm not sure how it happened, but there are just times when you feel compelled to go out and spend a lot of money on your kid.  I used to think that spoiled kids were the ones whose parents gave them everything, but now I don't think that's true.  I think the spoiled kids are the ones who get everything they ask for, but when you surprise your kid with something they didn't even know they wanted, or never thought they would ever get, its not spoiling.  At least that is the rule I have made up in my own mind, and its working for me.

Its so much fun to rock your kid's world, whether its a small thing like getting pizza for dinner, or a huge thing like buying them an iPod.  And we did rock her world, believe me.  This morning she texted us from her bed.  She can do that, now: text.  What have I wrought?

The next thing will be a phone.  I think its coming in the fall.  I will get the cheapest, crap-ass phone I can find, and only let her use it for emergencies. Or if she wants to have a play date.  Or if she needs a ride.

After the phone, it will be Proactive.  That's coming too, with a pubescent vengeance.

So, spoiled or not?  I have no idea.  But I sure love that kid, and she thanked us about a hundred times, and she is the happiest fifth grader in the world.  She would have been the happiest fifth grader in the world without the iTouch, but it put her over the top.
Yeah, she's pretty happy...




Thursday, June 7, 2012

There's Nothing to be Done

Today is the second to last day of school.  The other day, I had my final PTA meeting ever.  The middle school in our district is 5th through 8th grade, and that is where Leila is headed in the fall.  Dude.

I feel like Leila just started kindergarten about 18 months ago, and now she is leaving the fourth grade, and I am leaving the place that has been at the heart of my social life for 5 years. 

I know at some point I will be an emotional mess, probably tomorrow.  I'm just waiting for the blubbering to start.  Kids growing up sucks balls.  I mean, its wonderful to watch them grow up, and they get so much easier, and they can take care of their own business, but the fact that we can not hologram our kids like they did with Tupac is a freakin' crime. 

Can't I just have her little self back for a while?!!  Honestly, is it too much to ask?  To hear the lisp she used to have?  To hear her call me Mommy instead of Mom?  To be able to pick her up and set her on my hip?  She asked me the other day why I don't just have another baby, and there is no way I would want to start over again, I just want her, smaller, just for a little visit.  Just until she shits her diapers, and then I'll take her ten year-old self back.  It is still a miracle to me when she goes to the bathroom on her own, and she's been doing it for a long time.  Last night, she made me a bologna sandwich for dinner.  My little kid, previously a kindergartener, made me dinner.  She made herself dinner, too.  She and a friend rode their bikes to the yogurt shop by themselves.  WHAT IS HAPPENING???

I've said it before and I'll say it again: if you are out there and you have little little kids, and they drive you crazy and they don't sleep at night and they throw tantrums and they charm you, and shit their pants, it wont be long and they'll be walking home from school by themselves and barricading themselves in their rooms.  Put on your seat belts, there's nothing you can do.  Its coming.
Leila on the first day of preschool, age 2 yrs, 9 mos.
Leila on the first day of Fourth Grade, age 9

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Can I make it Sing?

I had such good luck the last time I went to the antique market, I decided to drag Rob along and go again.  I was hoping to score a two-drawer antique dresser than I can fancy up and put in my front hallway.  I have a vision, people, and I will not be stopped. 

We pulled out of our driveway and drove around the corner, and someone on the street was having a garage sale.  Right out front was a two-drawer dresser, just like I want.  I hopped out to take a look, but it was pretty rough.  It needed a lot of work, and, even though a lot of work was what I had in mind, I thought I could do better at the antique market.  I thought the place would be crawling with two-drawer dressers just waiting to be my little summer project. 

This particular antique market, in Alameda, is effing enormous.  Its like the size of Disneyland and has better food. It is open once a month and their website says they get 10,000 visitors every time they're open.  I don't doubt it.  We went up and down the aisles, looking for this damned dresser, and by the end I was exhausted, empty-handed, and full-bellied (I had a killer falafel sandwich and a refreshing mint lemonade.)

I did find one piece, for $225, but it had already been refinished in black, the one color I don't want, and it had a fake top that I would have needed to be replaced. I decided, no.

We dragged our sorry asses back home, so tired I thought I was going to die.  We drove past the garage sale and the dresser was still there.  I bought it for $20.  So, not a complete loss. 

Then I got a little drunk off sangria.

Here it is:  It looks much better in this picture than it does in real life. 

Monday, June 4, 2012

Spreading the Love

I have just finished creating a fan page on Facebook for this blog (look in the right hand column; in fact, you can follow me on twitter and instagram in the right column, too) and signing up with some ad service.  I don't really know what it is, but this blog may start looking a little different.  My 36 measly followers weren't getting me anywhere, so I'm trying something different.  My message has to reach the masses, y'know?  Can you believe there are people out there who don't know what I made for dinner or what I'm watching on TV?  Its sad, I know.

Speaking of what I made for dinner, I checked a Thai cookbook out of the library, and then went to an Asian supermarket and bought Thai ingredients.  I made some kick ass curry the other day.  I may never have to go out to Thai food again.  I have all I need: fish sauce, red and yellow curry, cilantro, I have it all, and I am serious about my Thai cookery. 

I'm not sure how often I can reasonably eat curry, though.  I could get sick of it really fast, then never want it again.  Then where would I be?  Can you believe there are people out there who DON'T KNOW I MADE CURRY??  Let's correct this, shall we?

The people who live in my house (and I include myself) just trashed this place over the weekend.  I couldn't wait to get up and clean it up, and that is almost true.  My housewifery was interrupted by my mom who had a hankering for some nachos, and as I can always be trusted to partake in a free meal, I went along.

But now I'm back.  I have pressed all the necessary buttons to clean my house (washer, dryer, dishwasher, roomba, radio.)  I am working so hard! 

Anyway, if you want to be updated the minute posts come up on this blog, you can follow me on Twitter, Like me on Facebook, and if you want to see the random things I take pictures of, you can find my Instragram feed on twitter.  I don't know how to embed that thing on this blog.  I'm working on it.  The Facebook page is a little lack luster right now, I'm working on that, too.

Here is a picture of my miserable old cat, and why I haven't written so much lately.  The fur in the keyboard is gumming up the works.