Went to visit my brother waaaaaaay upstate this weekend with the monsters and my parents. Since the husband had worked the night before, I drove (both ways) while he snoozed in the back.
We have plenty of family that live upstate, in South Jersey, and in Pennsylvania so we do a fair amount of travelling by car. Despite the fact that I've been the driver of many of these trips for many years now, one thing remains...I HATE DRIVING OUTSIDE OF THE CITY.
No lights at night, no shoulders and two lane (one in each direction) roads make me frickin insane. Strange that I dislike two lane country highways because I always used to choose the center tube of the Lincoln Tunnel which at night would go in both directions, but I digress.
I hate driving in the country.
As I drove home the other evening, in the rain, might I add, with lots of pissed off people behind me because 60 mph wasn't fast enough for them, I was thinking that perhaps I should fashion a bumper sticker or sign for the hood of my truck that says "City Driver" or something to that effect. I thought that perhaps if I had that notation on my vehicle, the people following me would then go, "OK, well that explains it" and pass me instead of trying to blind me by flashing their hi-beams and thereby complicating things further.
I did, after all, have almost my entire family in the car with me and my Speed Racer days are well behind me. To further add to my white knuckle, clenched teeth driving experience, my precious baby spent a good deal of the car ride (both ways) saying, "Bye bye car!" Now, while that would have gotten her thrown off a plane, I couldn't kick her out of the car. I can't say that the idea of strapping various members of my family to the roof of my car hasn't crossed my mind every now and again, but those nasty state troopers in their lace-up boots and kicky hats wouldn't approve of that either.
Not until we hit the well-lit roads of Yonkers do I allow myself to ease back into my seat and pluck my nails from the steering wheel. We survived another trip with Dan at the wheel and I'm sure the whole fam was surprised that no one was screamed at, the whole trip, for incorrectly reading me directions from a printed sheet. That's something else I'm notorious for.
Quite the rambling post, I know.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Times They Are A-Changin...
It wasn't that long ago that I was a child being taught manners. Actually, my mother STILL likes to point out my missteps, but that's for another time.
I'm going to sound like an old biddy by saying this... when did respecting elders become passe?
I think it's most disturbing when the disrespectful witch, I mean person, you encounter is someone that you know and the elder being disrespected is your own mother. My mother.
I'm known for my sarcastic mouth, however, my children are taught courtesy and respect. I WOULD NEVER be disrespectful to someone in front of my children. Sad that other people would use that as a teaching lesson for their own children.
I'm going to sound like an old biddy by saying this... when did respecting elders become passe?
I think it's most disturbing when the disrespectful witch, I mean person, you encounter is someone that you know and the elder being disrespected is your own mother. My mother.
I'm known for my sarcastic mouth, however, my children are taught courtesy and respect. I WOULD NEVER be disrespectful to someone in front of my children. Sad that other people would use that as a teaching lesson for their own children.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
WalMart, School Supplies...Bliss
My birthday is towards the end of summer so every year one of my birthday gifts was always a backpack, lunchbox and supplies for the new school year. That was the beginning of my love affair with stationery.
I spent this Saturday, with my kids and my mom, shopping for school supplies. Gone are the days of simply "knowing" that a couple composition books, some pencils, a ruler and a couple folders in a backpack were all you needed on the first day of school. The list of school supplies my kids need for kindergarten and second grade filled an entire shopping cart.
It's not enough that they need two containers of large glue each, it has to be a specific kind. It's not enough that my daughter needed 3 packs of crayons, two packs of colored pencils and a pack of fine tip markers, they had to be CRAYOLA. The four boxes of baggies, had to be ZIPLOC. And the two rolls of paper towels have to be BOUNTY. Sure, right. I got all the CRAYOLA crap. As a lover of stationery I can appreciate that there's a difference between Crayola and say Rose Art. Fine, WalMart had the Crayola stuff on sale, anyway. I did, however, draw the line at the Ziploc brand baggies. WalMart apparently knows of the racket between teachers and Ziploc, so they head us off by offering their brand of baggies 2 for $4.00 and doubled the number of baggies per box too!
I've not mentioned yet how much I love WalMart!
I LOVE WALMART!
The first time my beloved took me to one I had to hold onto the receipt to show my mother that I had purchased almost 100 items for only...$ I don't remember how much, but it was AMAZING! It's not just me, though. My dearest is also a WalMart devotee, so much so that on our first family trip to DisneyWorld, SUPER WALMART was our first stop after we got off the plane and our last stop before we got back on the plane and returned home.
I am one of those people that shake their fists at the district councilmen and neighborhood watchdog groups that won't allow WalMart to grace our fair city. Who are we to stop the uneducated from getting paid less than minimum wage with no benefits...it's more than they're making now! No, those bastards make it so that I have to schlep to Long Island or upstate New York for my WalMart fix. Damn you!
Despite the schlep, I packed up my monsters and made the Walton's a little richer. I love WalMart.
I'm off to go smell a couple dozen brand new Crayola crayons, sharpen a trees worth of pencils and label every damn one of them with my son's name and class.
Goodnight, JohnBoy.
I spent this Saturday, with my kids and my mom, shopping for school supplies. Gone are the days of simply "knowing" that a couple composition books, some pencils, a ruler and a couple folders in a backpack were all you needed on the first day of school. The list of school supplies my kids need for kindergarten and second grade filled an entire shopping cart.
It's not enough that they need two containers of large glue each, it has to be a specific kind. It's not enough that my daughter needed 3 packs of crayons, two packs of colored pencils and a pack of fine tip markers, they had to be CRAYOLA. The four boxes of baggies, had to be ZIPLOC. And the two rolls of paper towels have to be BOUNTY. Sure, right. I got all the CRAYOLA crap. As a lover of stationery I can appreciate that there's a difference between Crayola and say Rose Art. Fine, WalMart had the Crayola stuff on sale, anyway. I did, however, draw the line at the Ziploc brand baggies. WalMart apparently knows of the racket between teachers and Ziploc, so they head us off by offering their brand of baggies 2 for $4.00 and doubled the number of baggies per box too!
I've not mentioned yet how much I love WalMart!
I LOVE WALMART!
The first time my beloved took me to one I had to hold onto the receipt to show my mother that I had purchased almost 100 items for only...$ I don't remember how much, but it was AMAZING! It's not just me, though. My dearest is also a WalMart devotee, so much so that on our first family trip to DisneyWorld, SUPER WALMART was our first stop after we got off the plane and our last stop before we got back on the plane and returned home.
I am one of those people that shake their fists at the district councilmen and neighborhood watchdog groups that won't allow WalMart to grace our fair city. Who are we to stop the uneducated from getting paid less than minimum wage with no benefits...it's more than they're making now! No, those bastards make it so that I have to schlep to Long Island or upstate New York for my WalMart fix. Damn you!
Despite the schlep, I packed up my monsters and made the Walton's a little richer. I love WalMart.
I'm off to go smell a couple dozen brand new Crayola crayons, sharpen a trees worth of pencils and label every damn one of them with my son's name and class.
Goodnight, JohnBoy.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Dreams
I had two strange, disturbing dreams (nightmares?) last night. I don't consider myself one of those crunchy, new age-y types, but I do think that our dreams have meaning in and to our lives.
Only because I think they're relevant to what's going on in my life now, I'm putting them down here, so that I can go back to them later on. Proceed if you're interested.
The first dream was all about me. Without getting into detail, it ended with me being physically hurt by others (no one that I know). They were faceless come to think of it, but for whatever reason I believed, then, that they were Asian. I screamed for help but my voice came out in a low rasp and no one heard me. That's how it ended, no resolution.
The second dream was about my children being lost, each alone, in the outdoors (a forest? a large park?). In the dream (and I know I dream in color despite what "they" say) I saw how my eldest came to be lost, as though I was watching it in a movie, but not my two little ones...they just happened to be lost too. I went to the police, though the place I was in looked nothing like a police station, nor did the woman I spoke to look anything like a police officer. I cried and begged for this woman to send someone to go look for my children, but she instead interrogated me and asked me the most ridiculous questions. In the end, because there was no resolution in this dream either, I was suspected of doing away with my children, no one was ever sent to look for them and at the very end Courtney Cox walked in on me while I was "in the bathroom", which as you may have guessed, looked nothing like any bathroom I've ever been in, but then who cares cause, hello! Courtney Cox!
At least it wasn't stupid Jennifer.
Only because I think they're relevant to what's going on in my life now, I'm putting them down here, so that I can go back to them later on. Proceed if you're interested.
The first dream was all about me. Without getting into detail, it ended with me being physically hurt by others (no one that I know). They were faceless come to think of it, but for whatever reason I believed, then, that they were Asian. I screamed for help but my voice came out in a low rasp and no one heard me. That's how it ended, no resolution.
The second dream was about my children being lost, each alone, in the outdoors (a forest? a large park?). In the dream (and I know I dream in color despite what "they" say) I saw how my eldest came to be lost, as though I was watching it in a movie, but not my two little ones...they just happened to be lost too. I went to the police, though the place I was in looked nothing like a police station, nor did the woman I spoke to look anything like a police officer. I cried and begged for this woman to send someone to go look for my children, but she instead interrogated me and asked me the most ridiculous questions. In the end, because there was no resolution in this dream either, I was suspected of doing away with my children, no one was ever sent to look for them and at the very end Courtney Cox walked in on me while I was "in the bathroom", which as you may have guessed, looked nothing like any bathroom I've ever been in, but then who cares cause, hello! Courtney Cox!
At least it wasn't stupid Jennifer.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Raise Your Right Hand, Ladies...
The Open Toed Shoe Pledge
As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:
I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not budge out between the straps.
I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will not put extended acrylics on my toe nails. I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.
I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.
I will shave the hairs off my big toe.
I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.
If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.
I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl's if my feet need him.
I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' size. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat, and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.
I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.
I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.
I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noises while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.
I will promise to go to my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $15 or 20 and worth EVERY penny).
I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.
-Author Unknown
As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:
I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not budge out between the straps.
I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free. I will not put extended acrylics on my toe nails. I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.
I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.
I will shave the hairs off my big toe.
I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there.
If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.
I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl's if my feet need him.
I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' size. This is out of concern for my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat, and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.
I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.
I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.
I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noises while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them.
I will promise to go to my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $15 or 20 and worth EVERY penny).
I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show signs of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.
-Author Unknown
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Fear of Footwear
No, I'm not afraid of shoes. It's the horrible things other people put on their feet that scares me.
You should first know that I'm incredibly picky when it comes to my own footwear, so, naturally, I like to check out whats "out there". I have to LOVE a shoe to buy it. Just because I love it, however, doesn't always mean they work out. I bought two pair of awesome shoes at the beginning of the season that I will NEVER WEAR AGAIN. That's not entirely true. If I have somewhere to go where shoes are required only for the first fifteen minutes, I'd wear these cause that's about as long as I can stand wearing those evil shoes.
Back to my story...
I rode the train from work the other evening with a very attractive, normal looking woman wearing a pair of pink, purple and light blue striped pants. Sounds normal enough, right? WRONG. Her choice of footwear, besides being a fall shoe, were the most horrific orange plaid I've ever laid eyes on, on an off-white background. The off-white clashed with the white background of her pants, but that plaid...Oh. My. God! I spent a good hour and a half that evening looking online for them. Had I found them I def would have shared here, but I've come to the decision that they're from another country (planet?) because we Americans would NEVER allow them to be sold on our shores.
Yeah, I've got issues, I know.
While we're on the subject of horrific footwear, can we talk about men that wear white tube socks with black shoes? These sad sacks must NOT have women in their lives to beat them before they're able to leave the house. I was skeeved all those years ago, as a child, watching Michael Jackson moonwalk on the American Music Awards, with his white slouch socks and black loafers (but to be fair, there's LOTS about MJ to be skeeved about). Make no mistake, in my estimation, white tights with black shoes on women are a no-no as well. I can't even wear white socks underneath my boots, I'm physically incapable of pairing the two.
And yeah, I mentioned wedge heels a couple posts back. Not just any wedges. The evil shoes I talked about above were wedges. I'm talking about the stupid skinny wedges that kinda look like regular heels, but aren't. Ya gotta commit ladies...standard heels or wedges, no combos!
Issues...I've got em.
You should first know that I'm incredibly picky when it comes to my own footwear, so, naturally, I like to check out whats "out there". I have to LOVE a shoe to buy it. Just because I love it, however, doesn't always mean they work out. I bought two pair of awesome shoes at the beginning of the season that I will NEVER WEAR AGAIN. That's not entirely true. If I have somewhere to go where shoes are required only for the first fifteen minutes, I'd wear these cause that's about as long as I can stand wearing those evil shoes.
Back to my story...
I rode the train from work the other evening with a very attractive, normal looking woman wearing a pair of pink, purple and light blue striped pants. Sounds normal enough, right? WRONG. Her choice of footwear, besides being a fall shoe, were the most horrific orange plaid I've ever laid eyes on, on an off-white background. The off-white clashed with the white background of her pants, but that plaid...Oh. My. God! I spent a good hour and a half that evening looking online for them. Had I found them I def would have shared here, but I've come to the decision that they're from another country (planet?) because we Americans would NEVER allow them to be sold on our shores.
Yeah, I've got issues, I know.
While we're on the subject of horrific footwear, can we talk about men that wear white tube socks with black shoes? These sad sacks must NOT have women in their lives to beat them before they're able to leave the house. I was skeeved all those years ago, as a child, watching Michael Jackson moonwalk on the American Music Awards, with his white slouch socks and black loafers (but to be fair, there's LOTS about MJ to be skeeved about). Make no mistake, in my estimation, white tights with black shoes on women are a no-no as well. I can't even wear white socks underneath my boots, I'm physically incapable of pairing the two.
And yeah, I mentioned wedge heels a couple posts back. Not just any wedges. The evil shoes I talked about above were wedges. I'm talking about the stupid skinny wedges that kinda look like regular heels, but aren't. Ya gotta commit ladies...standard heels or wedges, no combos!
Issues...I've got em.
Friday, July 6, 2007
God Bless America
Ok, come on now, be honest with yourselves...don't you sleep just a little bit easier now that the Nathan's Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating contest has been won by an American? I know I certainly do.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Princess Diana
Watching the Concert for Diana right now. WHY, OH WHY, did they invite Diddy (is that what he's going by these days)? Is nothing sacred anymore?
I'm sure this is one of those instances in history where people ask (or will ask), "Where were you when you heard?" August 31, 1997 was the day of my wedding rehearsal.What a day that was!
First, we weren't sure the groom was going to attend. My dear father-in-law decided he needed a vacation two weeks before the wedding, so he left my groom ALONE and in charge of the pizzeria to go fishing in Florida. My love didn't want to close the pizzeria for the afternoon, so not till the 11th hour did he locate someone capable to run the place for a couple hours while he raced from Jersey to Astoria with his groomsmen for a "quick" run-thru.
Then, our ring bearer (the cutest in existence) and his Mommy didn't have a ride to the church so we sent the father of the bride to go get them. This was before we were all cell phone abusers, of course. Funny thing was, we sent my father off without giving him an address. We all (bride, parents, angry groom, priest, groomsmen, bridesmaids, sourpuss bitch of honor and assorted family members along for the ride) waited and waited and waited at the church for well over an hour for what should have been a fifteen minute trip. Once they got there we were finally ready to get started.
Maybe because we were all so stressed from waiting, maybe my hair was pulled too tight from my wedding hair run thru earlier that day (it did look good, if I do say so myself), maybe it was because mine was the first wedding in the family, there were so many things we should have addressed, but we didn't. We were led thru the service by my family priest, we said thank you and we left. There were some questions asked, like when the bitch of honor asked WHY she had to stand NEXT to me during the ceremony? WHY couldn't she stand at the front of the church so she could watch (she didn't and she didn't). That is a story for another day, though.
We left the church and we all returned to my parents home for a big dinner my mother had prepared. Yes, I was a bit annoyed when my groom announced that he and the groomsmen weren't going to stay, we had a TON of food! I think the guys were annoyed that they weren't going to get a free meal after schlepping all the way to Queens. I'm sure, though, they all got back at their pal and made him make them their fave dishes once they got back to the pizzeria.
I think it was towards the end of the evening when we heard the news about Diana. Maybe it was even mid-party. That part is fuzzy. I DO remember having gone to bed and my mother waking me to tell me that Diana had died. I also remember the feeling of sadness that washed over me.
I relived that same feeling almost two years later when I sat vigil on my mother's couch, yet again, waiting to hear of the fate of JFK Jr.
So sad.
I'm sure this is one of those instances in history where people ask (or will ask), "Where were you when you heard?" August 31, 1997 was the day of my wedding rehearsal.What a day that was!
First, we weren't sure the groom was going to attend. My dear father-in-law decided he needed a vacation two weeks before the wedding, so he left my groom ALONE and in charge of the pizzeria to go fishing in Florida. My love didn't want to close the pizzeria for the afternoon, so not till the 11th hour did he locate someone capable to run the place for a couple hours while he raced from Jersey to Astoria with his groomsmen for a "quick" run-thru.
Then, our ring bearer (the cutest in existence) and his Mommy didn't have a ride to the church so we sent the father of the bride to go get them. This was before we were all cell phone abusers, of course. Funny thing was, we sent my father off without giving him an address. We all (bride, parents, angry groom, priest, groomsmen, bridesmaids, sourpuss bitch of honor and assorted family members along for the ride) waited and waited and waited at the church for well over an hour for what should have been a fifteen minute trip. Once they got there we were finally ready to get started.
Maybe because we were all so stressed from waiting, maybe my hair was pulled too tight from my wedding hair run thru earlier that day (it did look good, if I do say so myself), maybe it was because mine was the first wedding in the family, there were so many things we should have addressed, but we didn't. We were led thru the service by my family priest, we said thank you and we left. There were some questions asked, like when the bitch of honor asked WHY she had to stand NEXT to me during the ceremony? WHY couldn't she stand at the front of the church so she could watch (she didn't and she didn't). That is a story for another day, though.
We left the church and we all returned to my parents home for a big dinner my mother had prepared. Yes, I was a bit annoyed when my groom announced that he and the groomsmen weren't going to stay, we had a TON of food! I think the guys were annoyed that they weren't going to get a free meal after schlepping all the way to Queens. I'm sure, though, they all got back at their pal and made him make them their fave dishes once they got back to the pizzeria.
I think it was towards the end of the evening when we heard the news about Diana. Maybe it was even mid-party. That part is fuzzy. I DO remember having gone to bed and my mother waking me to tell me that Diana had died. I also remember the feeling of sadness that washed over me.
I relived that same feeling almost two years later when I sat vigil on my mother's couch, yet again, waiting to hear of the fate of JFK Jr.
So sad.
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