When your husband’s doctor’s office calls and says they need to speak to him about the labs from his recent physical at his earliest convenience. Well, he’s out of town and didn’t put me on his forms as a person they can discuss his medical stuff with so now I’m sitting here wondering WTH is up and no idea when I’ll know.

We finally joined the rest of the western world and got a Wii (from a friend who decided he didn’t like being taunted by a machine) and for the last couple days, I’ve been slowly (because mah mad technonerdgirl skillz apparently don’t extend to video games of any kind and my kids can attest to this) learning how to get around in and use it.

I’ve decided I really like Wii tennis. You get the satisfaction of wacking a ball, which I’ve always loved, but without all the sweat and sun, both of which I hate. My fair skin can’t take the blazing Florida sun and well, I think two words will sum up why I hate perspiring — BOOB SWEAT. While I wasn’t blessed with abundance in that department, I got way more than my fair share of sweat glands in that area. Well, actually, I don’t know if that’s true because I don’t ask other women about boob sweat but whatever…let’s just say I hate boobsweating and leave it at that.

I also love Wii boxing. I never knew beating the crap out of a crappy looking avatar could be so elating, so…satisfying. Apparently, I have a lot of aggression to get out—knocking out my two dimensional opponents has brought me a sick amount of joy these past two days.

Today, I finally ventured into Wii Fit territory. Apparently, I’m the most unbalanced person to ever walk the earth. The fucking thing asked me if I fall down a lot when walking, which I DO NOT, thankyouverymuch.

The upside is that I’m in a normal weight range. The downside? I’ve gained three pounds since my last doctor’s appt in December. Looks like the Wii and I will be spending a lot more time together as I set my “goal” to lose 5 lbs. in two weeks.

I’m embarrassed to admit that after falling asleep with my son tonight for about 4 hours, I woke up to soreness in muscles I didn’t even know I had. Gah.

On Tuesday April 7th, the world unexpectedly lost a precious little girl named Maddie Spohr, age 17 months. I wrote about Maddie’s passing over on IzzyMom a couple days ago and my heart continues to ache for Maddie’s parents, Heather and Mike Spohr. I can’t even begin to imagine what they are going through right now.

In this dark and sad time, though, the kindness and generosity of people across the internet and around the world (most of whom didn’t know Maddie any more than I did) has been nothing short of awe-inspiring.

People have pulled together to help the Spohr’s web site remain up after being taken down for excessive traffic by the thoroughly uncompassionate Bluehost.

In less than three days, people have given upwards of $25,000 in donations to the March of Dimes, which Maddie’s mom requested in lieu of flowers.

People have come together to form teams to participate in the March of Dimes ‘March for Babies’ on April 25th and raise money in Maddie’s name.

People have put up web pages aggregating all the hundreds of posts about Maddie (scroll way down to see the list).

People have set up a donation site to help with Maddie’s funeral and memorial service costs (donations STILL needed! Details here)

People have spearheaded meal delivery campaigns for the Spohrs so that they don’t need to worry about cooking or grocery shopping.

I’m awed by all the good in the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all you wonderful people out there. You’ve all helped to make sure Maddie Spohr, the beloved little girl with the captivating smile and big blue-green eyes, will NEVER be forgotten.

If you want to help, there are many things you can do:

• Sponsor our Friends of Maddie “March for Babies” team or any of the dozens of other teams from around the country that are walking in Maddie’s name on April 25.

• Donate to help offset the cost of Maddie’s funeral expenses. This would help the Spohrs tremendously.

• Donate $5 towards a gift card for a restaurant in Mike and Heather’s area that delivers because eating is not optional. You gotta eat. Please email me (janet at greenmommedia dot com) OR direct message me on Twitter (@thecaffeinatrix) if you’d like to take part in this. I’ll send a card to them (with your name included) along with a restaurant gift card. I’m hoping to raise a minimum of $75 because everything is expensive in LA.

Also…

A P.O. Box has also been set up in Heather and Mike’s name for cards, gift certificates and the like. The box is located inside a UPS store so packages are accepted as well.

Mike & Heather Spohr
11870 Santa Monica Blvd. #106-514
West Los Angeles, CA 90025

Thank you for your kindness, compassion and generosity :)

Madeline Alice Spohr

Don’t you sometimes just want to write a list of all the things/people you hate, piss you off or just plain annoy you? I do.

But then I’m all “Oh, but that’s so negative. I don’t want to be THAT person…all I HATE THIS and I HATE THAT!”

And then I hate myself for being so wimpy and spineless because seriously, why should I care? I’m feeling the hate and I want to share it and sharing is good—or at least that’s what they tell you in kindergarten and kindergarten teachers don’t lie, right? Because I would really hate them if they did.

So yeah, I’m gonna share the hate. And if  you start feeling the urge to lecture me about it, you should probably just not—or I’ll add you to my list.

The short list (because I’d hate to blow my whole hatewad in one shot):

• I hate when people walk away when you’re still talking to them. It makes me want to roundhouse kick them in their stupid, departing kidneys. Why? Because it’s just rude. Let’s roleplay for a sec… You be talking to me about something, anything, and I’ll just meander away while you’re talking. Makes ya wanna kick me, right? I knew it. You’re my kind of people.

• I hate when people send me an email or use the contact form on one of my other sites and try to convince me of how wrong I am about something BY INSULTING ME and then they link to their site which is, presumably, being left as a point of reference to my supposed wrongness and THEN? They throw in a little PR blurb about themselves. It makes me all “Dude. Do you seriously think I’m going listen to you or feature your product/service after you just talked a bunch of shit to me? You’re a total social moron and if I cared about you at all, I’d send you a copy of Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People” and try to save you from your own stupidity but since I hate you? I won’t.

• People who work in stores and know NOTHING about what the store sells and are completely unapologetic about their ignorance. EXAMPLE: I go to Office Depot to buy some ink for this Kodak behemoth of a printer/scanner/copier because while I don’t need to print at this moment, I do need to scan stuff and this stupid piece of shit won’t let you SCAN until you buy more ink. Scanning is a completely inkless process and yet I’m held hostage until I throw down for ink. How am I going to put all those old pix that showcase the fact that I used to be hot and cellulite-free on Facebook without a scanner? Note to self: I also hate Kodak. Anyway, I search the ink section only to find there is ONE pack of Kodak ink and it’s for some other shitty Kodak device. So I ask some Office Depot dude zipping around on one of those old people scooters if they carry Kodak ink and he doesn’t know. Whatever they have out is “probably” all they have, he says. He waves in the general direction of the aisle I just came from and zips away. Must be nice to get paid for being lazy, stupid and useless. I’m certain there’s a cubicle at AIG with his name on it. So yeah, I hate Kodak, I hate Office Depot and I hate that stupid fuck on the scooter.

• I hate people that see you heading toward a certain register at a store and haul ass to get there first, even though you were closer. I hate you and if I thought I could get away with it, I’d totally set your hair on fire without a second thought. This also applies to people who pull this same shit with parking spaces. They get extra hate points if they’re one tiny little woman driving alone in a Hummer, Suburban or Excursion.

Wow…that felt really good. I highly recommend making a hatelist, if only to make you feel less hatey and more tolerant of the things you hate.

WHOA. I feel a brainstorm coming on…

Seminars, books-on-tape, infomercials, Home Shopping Network—an entire empire built on getting people to recognize their hate, vent their hate and eventually be at peace with their hateyness. I’m going to rich beyond your wildest dreams, all ” I’M ON A BOAT, MOTHAFUCKER“  rich.

(Actually, Walt is turning in his cryogenic chamber thing and you can bet when they finally thaw him out and bring him back to life, he’s gonna be pissed about this)

Every now and then, I feel the need to acknowledge the things I don’t understand. At the top of the list is Disney Eggs. Yes, I said Disney EGGS. Like chicken eggs. With Disney characters stamped on them. Am I the only one who finds this incredibly (and edibly) surreal? And really, just WHY? Are they supposed to be collectible? Heh. Or served whole so kids can see the characters stamped on them and get all excited about eggs?  And since when does Disney dabble in agriculture?

Maybe it’s one of those bizarre licensing agreement situations, like Hannah Montana and High School Musical macaroni and cheese, where you have to wonder…WHO SIGNED OFF ON THIS??? Because it’s just dumb.

Anyway, I’m probably the last person on the planet to know about these, in which case, forgive my ignorance. It’s merely a case of my studiously avoiding the Disney channel—and clearly, if this is what they’re selling, I’m 100% correct in doing so because again…DUMB.

Would you buy these? (And I’m asking all you normal people out there, not the folks who obsessively hoard Disney stuff)

Like many of you, I watched Obama on Leno last night. Unlike many of you, I fail to see what the big fuss is about. The media-generated moral outrage at President Obama’s Special Olympics remark is just that…media-generated. Additionally, it’s somewhat ironic that the same party of people who think it’s hilarious to mass email jokes and comics regarding black stereotypes in reference to Obama are suddenly all up in arms because he dared to utter the words ‘Special Olympics’ on a comedy talk show.

I watched Obama on Leno. In fact, I watched it twice and Obama’s remark about the Special Olympics was clearly in reference Leno praising Obama’s bowling score in a patronizing way (jokingly, of course). It was so obvious to me that the remark was directed at Leno—how anyone could have interpreted it as a slur against those who particpate in the Special Olympics is beyond me.

Edited to add:

Leno joking praised Obama’s bowling scores and then Obama said  “That was like the Special Olympics or something” while gesturing to Leno with his left hand, indicating that he was addressing Leno’s mocking praise.

You can see this exchange at 22 seconds into the following video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vE0yAEvVsUo

I know Obama has issued an apology but that’s to be expected. Even though he didn’t do anything wrong, IMO, he knows how the media works and he knew, probably as soon as the words came out of his mouth, that a shitstorm was going to ensue, warranted or not.

I could understand why people would be outraged if Obama had truly made some kind of hurtful remark about the Special Olympics. My own son is in a special ed preschool program for a speech delay and I worked with developmentally delayed and autistic adults for over five years so it’s not as though I don’t understand or that I’m not empathetic because I am.  And believe me, if I really felt like Obama had insulted those with special needs or those who participate in the Special Olympics, I would be upset, as well.

But I just don’t think he did. If anything he was referencing how Leno was speaking to him and drawing a parallel with how people treat folks with developmental disabilities, which is, per my observations, very patronizingly. I fail to see how that would be hurtful or insulting. It’s certainly not untrue.

There’s simply nothing to be angry about—there was NO disparaging remark—and more than anything, this whole brouhaha is a distraction from the real issues at hand (although you can’t blame the media for wanting something else to beat to death. The nonstop 24-7 news coverage of AIG and Bernie Madoff IS getting pretty tiresome)

Can we move on now?

You’re at Teaser #4 out of 6. If you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, click on the curtains and follow the purple brick road. OR if you like your surprises to make sense, start at the beginning by going to  Teaser #1.

Either way, all roads lead to awesomeness!

I was reading the paper online this morning and came across this article about a study that says people in committed relationships, on the whole, quickly look away when they encounter an attractive member of the opposite sex. Apparently, they typically don’t even know they’re doing it; that it’s some sort of automatic response, presumably to “buffer against infidelity.”

So I’m reading this and I’m like “Hey—I do that” and it does feel sort of..automatic. I mean I see men with women, looking at OTHER women all the time and they’re totally cavalier about it and I? Am looking away like I’m some kind of schoolgirl, which I’m SO NOT.  But are those guys just uncommitted cads???

Actually, I’ve noticed my husband looking away lots of times and I just figured he was trying to be respectful (or not provoke any kind of painful elbowing to the ribs, as his ex girlfriend was fond of doing to him) by not blatantly gawking at other attractive women in my presence, which I thought, you know, was pretty cool.  Me? Naive? Poppycock!

Now that I know about this, perhaps I should test myself and see if I react the same. Might be fun…heh. Or maybe it won’t make any difference at all and I’ll be all “Oh! What lovely shelving this store has!”

This is a great video. This guy is funny and so spot-on about how ridiculously spoiled we all are…

Click to watch.

Why do people turn into such buttheads when they become famous? Someone I knew fairly well years ago went on to become a big fish in his particular pond and on more than one occasion, I have been standing within feet of him, within HEY-I-TOTALLY-KNOW-YOU distance and not a single word of acknowledgment from him.

Of course, I must seem like an asshole to famous people because I won’t fawn all over them—but why should I? If you sit on a toilet every day and take a crap, you’re no better than anyone else. End of story. So I guess being ignored was supposed to be some sort of punishment for my refusal to pee myself over being in his presence?

Whatevs. It was a long time ago. Amongst other things, I now raise children, the future of America—you know, the people who will be wiping our collective asses when we’re old and demented? I just can’t bring myself to care all that much about fame and celebrity.

Anyway, it so happens this person friend-requested me the other day on Facebook. I’m truly dumbfounded because what? NOW you want to be my friend? NOW you want to acknowledge my existence? Seriously?

Well, from what I’ve heard, you’re still a big doucher.

Friend request FAIL!

I’m curious…  Do ya’ll floss?

I do—religiously—and I’m always equal parts horrified and fascinated at what comes out of my teeth AFTER brushing. Seriously…who knew you could cram THAT MUCH stuff in there?

You may recall from my last post that I recently went out with my husband and an assortment of friends for his birthday. Can I just tell you…I saw a disturbing amount of tartar on the teeth of random strangers (and a few old acquaintances, too). Get thee to a dentist and scrape that shit off before you get gum disease, people!

Good dental hygiene is the cornerstone of my existence. I feel like flying around and handing out dental floss to the whole world. And yes, I know that’s a little weird.

Dear Body,

Happy belated Valentine’s Day. Yes, I was being facetious. You know I don’t subscribe to made-up holidays that leave at least half the population sad and depressed that they don’t have someone to give them some Hallmark-mandated love and a red velvet box of chocolates from the local Walgreens. I prefer my consumerism-on-steroids holidays to at least be FUN, like Halloween!

Anyway, I’m writing to let you know that I’m very disappointed in you today. No, it’s not that last seven pounds I’ve been trying to lose for, like, two years—although we do need to discuss that at some point. I’m actually talking about the hangover that you led me to believe I would NOT be having today. What the hell?

I know, I know…I don’t take you out drinking nearly enough and you’re probably not used to it but that’s no excuse for your behavior today. You had fair warning that when we went out to celebrate the huz’s birthday last night (it was a shitload of fun, no?) that it would be a late night. Christ, we had safe, dependable babysitters for the first time in three years (Thank you, MIL and SIL!) that would be keeping our kids overnight. What did you think I was going to do? Drink soda all night?

All things considered, I think I did pretty good. I took a sip of my first beer at 9pm and finished my last around 2:45am. All together, I probably consumed about four or five high quality beers AND I had some pizza. (Yes, I agree that it was ridiculously salty but I was powerless to stop. You know how hungry I get when I drink). Anyway, the point is that I really didn’t go overboard and I don’t think I abused you that badly. In fact, I observed last night, firsthand, what long term alcohol abuse can do to a body and I’m so glad I got married and stopped clubbing and partying in my mid twenties. I could seriously be a poster girl for the virtues of generally clean, albeit mostly exercise-free, living.

But I digress…What I wanted to know is WHY did you lead me to believe this morning that I had escaped the hangover I was fully expecting? Even my prim, proper and very Catholic mother-in-law remarked that we didn’t look hungover when she brought the kids home at noon (NOON!!! God bless that woman!) and other than being a bit fuzzy-headed, I felt great. I didn’t begin to feel betrayed by you until about 3pm when the headache and queasy stomach started to kick in. Eventually, I felt so crappy I had to take to my bed for several hours whilst the huz went to the grocery store, fed the kids AND took them out for ice cream. He’s a fricken rockstar dad and I’m the pathetic mom that’s still hungover at six in the evening.

WHY???

Don’t you know how damaging this was to my self-esteem? How loser-ish it made me feel?

I just don’t understand and I anxiously await your explanation.

Yours in suffering,
Janet

I was going to do the obligatory post-conference recap but really, other than to say I had got loads of lovely sleep, froze my ass off, ate way too much meat, had a lot of fun with my peeps from the “bad” table and beyond, met an awesomelicious new friend, enjoyed all the panels and got some cool stuff, what else is there that would hold your interest for more than two nanoseconds after reading the words “BlissDom09 Conference“? I’m going to take a wild guess and say…not much…because if you were there, you already know it was a good time and if you weren’t, you don’t want to know what you missed and/or don’t care. Am I right?

The REAL unsung hero of Feb 5-8 is my husband. Seriously. Here’s why:

When I got home, my husband had the whole house clean. Like super clean.

And I was a cranky bitch. (in my defense, I started my period the next day)

Anyway, he gets total props because on Friday, he went to lock the door when leaving with the kids and the tumbler and associated screws, springs etc fell right out of the lock and onto the ground. This means he and the kids were locked out. Good times, right?

Before he could fix anything, he had to drop my daughter and son off at a friend’s house to play and then he had to go to Home Depot and get a new lock for the front door.

But before he could get back in the house, he had to break a lock on another door. Then he had to fix the front door lock and then go BACK to Home Depot to get a new (and MUCH BETTER) lock to replace the one he broke while breaking in and then come home and replace that one, too.

Then, same day, he had to pick up the kids, feed them dinner, bundle them up again and take my daughter to a Brownie meeting.

The next day he fixed the dryer which was broken and destined for the curb when I left. I was all ready to begrudgingly throw down for a new one but after some fiddling and general asspainery, he fixed it…for THIRTY BUCKS.

And then he cleaned the house so I wouldn’t have to come home to a disaster.

He dealt with all of that lock business without losing his shit AND fixed my dryer AND cleaned the house AND both kids were in tip top shape…no limbs missing or stitches or anything.

My husband rocks.

Thanks babe, just in case you’re reading this (even though you know you’re not allowed to read my blog :)

Oh. Mygod. I have to blog about this demented, idiotic woman that I encountered today, if only to be vindicated by the very smart and attractive people of the internet. I’ll try to keep it brief (although it bears repeating that brevity has never been my strong suit.)

Okay, so I’m driving down a neighborhood street and on the opposite side of the street, all these construction worker people have parallel parked their trucks so that lane is effectively blocked. As I get about halfway down the street, this car comes swinging out from behind one of the parked cars down the block and proceeds to come right at me. Not stopping. Just driving right up to my bumper.

Of course, I have stopped because I cannot comprehend the douchebaggery before my eyes. And, well, because I really don’t want to have a head on collision with the douchemobile speeding towards me. So there we are, bumper to bumper and the woman starts honking her horn over and over and gesturing to me that I should back up and I’m stunned that someone would actually have the nerve to demand I move when they are clearly in the wrong.  So naturally my response is something along the lines of “No fricken way! YOU back up!”

The logic behind my thinking is this… They are driving the wrong way in MY lane. I am in my lane, on the RIGHT side of the street and going in the proper direction. THEY are trying to pass parked cars and they are supposed to wait until the opposite lane is free of traffic, just like you would pass on ANY two lane road. Am I right?

So anyway, this crazy biznitch starts yelling and screaming and cussing at me and then she’s all “I have all day! I’m not moving!”  And I lean out the window and I’m like “YOU are in the wrong lane so YOU are supposed to move. Anyone who actually knows how to drive knows that!”

And she proceeds to scream at me “There are parked cars in my lane! Expletive! Expletive Expletive!” And I go “That’s not my problem! You’re not supposed to drive into oncoming traffic, you moron!”  And she blares her horn some more, like 40 times, and yells and screams and flips me off and says she’s going to kick my ass. This is a fifty something year old woman with a handicapped thing on her mirror so, of course, this makes me laugh, which just pisses her off more. Then her male passenger chimes in and starts cussing at me, too. Great. Now it’s crazy times 2.

At this point, there are now cars behind me and I couldn’t move even if I wanted to, which I didn’t. So we sit there having this little standoff and I really just want to get out of my car and do something violent to her because my ice cream is starting to melt and it’s getting close to school dismissal time and I’m starting to feel a bit anxious. I don’t DO anxious. Not well, anyway.

But now I can’t move in either direction so I finally call the non-emergency police dispatch and a few minutes later a very annoyed cop comes, tells her she has to move because she’s in the wrong lane and tells me I shouldn’t taunt crazy people (I was taunting HER???) because 50% of drivers in Florida are carrying guns.

Oh.  *wondering why I am not part of that 50%*

By then the cars behind me have all backed up and left, so just to cheese her off, I back up and leave down a side street.

HA HA HAAAAA you crazy effing beeyotch! I was right and you were wrong! I was right and you were wrong!

(Leaving for Nashville/BlissDom tomorrow so this will be my last missive until probably Monday. You guys be good and keep the riff raff outta here for me, okay?)