Fun fact: This is an old post that I took down because I got so much flack for being such a horrible wife. Now, 3 years later, I’m over 40 and frankly don’t care if you people think I’m a horrible wife. Also, if I’m being honest, we all have our meltdowns and our horrible wife moments, if you don’t than you probably shouldn’t be at this particular site. PS you know who really thought this post was funny, my husband.
Hubby: “Jenny are you busy?”
Me: “Yeah, I’m writing.” Continue reading
At about 13 years old, my mom went from doing everything right to doing everything so very wrong. In fact, everything she did was either “so gay,” “so queer,” or “moooooommmmm, you’re so embarrassing.” (It was the 80s, I’m sure they say different things now.) Anyway, it didn’t matter if she was singing the wrong words to Billy Jean or she sneezed at too high of a pitch, it was utterly unforgivable. And don’t even get me started on the things she did around my friends. One time, she smacked her lips while eating a bagel and cream cheese at breakfast with my besties after a sleepover!
Do you believe that?
Mortifying!
I’m sure those girls are still talking about her lip smacking to this very day. Frankly, it’s amazing we remained friends after that appalling display. Well, it’s a testament to my friends, that’s for sure.
That phase lasted for about 4 years. (It’s a phase I’m already dreading with my own daughter because well, there is just no winning, for the parent!) That said, my mom and I have managed to be the closest of friends throughout my life, but she’s still my mother, and there are still those moments when she says something that makes me cringe. You know the kind of cringe that makes your whole body pucker? The kind of cringe that makes you wish you could scour what you just heard from your eardrums with a piece of steel wool? That kind of cringe.
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Let’s start with when she says the word Continue reading
It’s funny, I used to be attracted to many different things than I am now (a decade into marriage). Back in the 80s, a mullet might have been enough to get my heart racing (Stop judging, I meant, a nice mullet OK? One that’s all feathery and flippy, not frizzy or straggly.) Now, simply remembering trash day without a reminder is super hot.
I have to say, I never would’ve anticipated my prerequisites would become so boring, lackluster, cliche, unexciting, sad … (though, when I look back, the attributes I used to find sexy, desirable, and like, so awesome, are somewhat, um, embarrassing.
Did you not find these things sexy too?
This was Totally Hot in the 80s:
1. Like I said: A mullet and not just any mullet, one with panache, one with style, one that was well maintained, one with a mind of its own (like its owner). Think, Rob Lowe in St. Elmos Fire, or John Stamos on Full House or … let’s give props to the best mullet of all time … James Spader’s a la Pretty in Pink.
2. If you could quote movies, you were a stud. I’m serious, anything from “Can you describe the ruckus?” to “I guess I picked the wrong day to quit sniffing glue” to Continue reading
OK, without going into too much medical mumbo-jumbo, I’m supposed to have a new healthy diet, which includes cutting out most carbohydrates. Not fruits and veggies, but Starchy Carbs – like pasta, cereal, rice, baked goods, potatoes, and grains (YES, even if they’re made with yummy grains and oats and the gluten that comes with them). And Sugary Carbs — like desserts, sodas, juices, and sweets.
So, I shall explain what I’ve learned about these carbs and why they are so truly “sucky” and unhealthy (unless you do a ton of anaerobic activity), in this little vignette where the carbs are the hot guy from high school/college who you so desperately wanted — who can resist carb talk and 80s humor? (Be Warned: I’m a Gen Xer so my references may be dated).
It starts like this: First, you see the hot guy (donut, multigrain bagel, bbq potato chip, bowl of whole wheat spaghetti) and you think, Oooooh you’re cute, I totally want you. Your heart beats a bit faster and you do your best to impress. Now, I realize no one needs to impress a donut to eat it, though I will admit there are times I tell the donut how I’ve worked out earlier that day, in hopes that it doesn’t think I’m a gluttonous slob.
Hot Guy is up for a little conversation – you take a bite. (I mean of the donut, not the guy — this is a comparison remember?) Continue reading
This week in my I’M OBSESSED column we’re talking delish anti-aging products, my new favorite gloss, and the best dry skin barrier cream — all perfect for summer and travel.
A couple weeks back I was approached to try a yummy bag full of Elizabeth Arden products to see what I thought. I usually say no to these requests, unless I LOVE the company and because Elizabeth Arden makes one of my all time favorite anti-aging products: Prevage… I was in.
($159)
And … I’ve got three new obsessions.
1. Ceramide Capsules Daily Youth Restoring Serum: Continue reading
No matter how much you try to fancy it up (notice top hat ears) you still look like the guy on the right.
Me and about 200,000 other people had this brilliant idea to spend Spring Break at Walt Disney World. Sure, we could’ve done something more relaxing — like sky diving, but we chose this destination because we like lines. Love lines. Love the way that by simply roping off lines into a maze like snake shape so one could walk nearly a mile without ever leaving a room.
OK, lines make me insane, I can truly only half pay attention to anyone as I’m busily trying to assess how fast we’re moving and how much time we have left. While standing in the first line of the day, my daughter asked who played Mickey Mouse. “I don’t know. I guess Walt Disney was the first Mickey, but not anymore, he’s dead.” Maybe I should’ve thought out my response because my daughter’s reaction was to scream, O M G, MICKEY MOUSE IS DEAD??!! There are no rules in Disney about what you can and cannot say, but I’m gonna guess if there were that would literally top the chart. Holy crap. I’ve never seen so many chipper little happy faces fall into frowns and tears so quickly, as moms struggled to do damage control while intermittently giving me the stink eye.
Sadly, it went down hill from there. I began to suffer what I call “line dementia,” that’s when crazy shit comes out of your mouth simply to fill time and to mess with your children for your personal amusement — it’s somewhat of a survival tactic. Continue reading
Stop leering at me like that … I was 10
If only this was a
pillowcase!
Yes, 1000
times yes!
Look I got why Joanie loved Chachi, didn’t we all? The better question is, why did Chachi Love Joanie … and not me, not us? I went through much of the early 80s asking myself this very question. Why didn’t the 80s heartthrobs I so desperately wanted, not love me back? Because we never met? Maybe. What did Joanie have that I didn’t have? A frizzy boy-cut? A square but endearing older brother?Boobs?
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why that muscle shirt wearing bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks with the “cool” genes of the Fonze and looks of perfection, wasn’t dating me.
I was sure Scott Baio was just as awesome as Chachi in real life and may have been even better looking, since he seemed to dress more on trend in his 2 page spreads in Tiger Beat. Every one of those posters made it to my wall, where he winked or glared at me in a way that I was pretty certain he wouldn’t do for any other 9 year old girl. (Little did I know, those leering looks he gave me from my walls could have gotten him arrested. Not to mention the kissing we did. I don’t want to brag but Continue reading
What, are familial relationships not about winning? I’m sorry, I’m an only child, I never had to compete for parental favoritism with siblings. And I must admit, my son’s essay puts him slightly ahead of his sister in the race for my love. I’m totally kidding. I love them both, but you can’t love them the same, can you?…As this is the end of the school year, all of my children’s work has slowly trickled into the house. You know, like the way Andy Dufrene releases the bits of wall in Shawshank? Tests, artwork, essays, scraps of scribble.
One of the prizes in the huge pile of things that will never make it to the circular file was a piece on who my son admires most. It started with this line, “I look up to my Dad and my Grandparents, but the person I admire most is my Mom.”
My first thought?
I won! Yep, you heard him. He admires you other people too (or maybe he just wrote that to be politically correct), but I’m in a class by myself. He said so… Continue reading
A couple weeks back, I went to my son’s school as a volunteer for his holiday class party. In an attempt to be overly PC they had all the usual non-denominational stuff: snow flake making, a toilet paper snowman contest, and other things related to snow and not Chanukah menorahs or Christmas trees or whatever kwanza has… like, kangaroos. Frankly, I don’t know if there’s a Kwanza Kangaroo, but I like to think there is one.
Every holiday needs a mildly creepy ambassador. I mean, there’s Santa Clause for X-mas. He’s a fat, jolly, old guy that likes to have children on his lap, which is kinda disturbing. There’s a Hanukkah Harry, who sounds like a drunken trench coat wearing uncle who may flash you in front of the menorah, and I assume – there’s a Kwanza Kangaroo, who let’s you feel in his pocket for presents and for pleasure.
Not the Creepy Kangaroo you were picturing, or is it?
I may have just massacred the mascots of three religions at once. And to think I wasn’t a part of the politically incorrect story I’m about to tell.
Moving on. We were in the midst of making snowflakes, which had to have a picture of the student glued on the front. I grabbed some of those tiny 1×2” pictures and started giving them to their respective owners. I can barely tell the girls apart with the feathers in their hair and the Justice accessories, but I managed, then I came across an Asian child. He was one of many Asian children in the class.
Hello, it’s gifted.
I don’t want to say he’s Chinese because I always get that stuff wrong, and then I seem ignorant.
As you can tell from the story thus far, I hate to sound ignorant. Though to be fair, I wouldn’t expect you to know me from a Canadian.
I put the child’s picture at the back of my pile, to be certain I was giving it to the right Asian child.
Not that they all look alike.
I mean, if that’s where your head was going, then I’m quite sure you’re guilty of racial profiling.
Shame on you.
I, on the other hand was concerned that in this cripplingly PC society, that had I given the wrong picture to the wrong child and he happened to be Asian, I would be perceived as being prejudiced myself. Though if I’d given a feather laden girl the wrong pic, we’d have laughed it off.
As I walked over to the child whose picture was last in my pile, I saw him holding another picture in his hand.
Holy shit, I am guilty, I can’t tell them apart. This is horrible, I have to stop being so preachy to other people.
Shame on me!
Then, I looked at the picture in his hand and realized that HE was holding the wrong picture, not I.
OMG the irony.
I tried to hand him his picture, which he was reluctant to trade, sure he had the correct one.
“No, this is you.” I said.
I mean, if you can’t tell yourself from another child of similar decent, than I think the rest of us are in the clear here. Phew, one less PC thing to worry about.
And the best part, I made it out of this scenario somehow unscathed and totally PC
What did I learn: Asian children have trouble telling themselves from other Asian children… It must be the pocket protectors and the ping pong paddles they carry around with them.
Relax, I was just kidding, you can’t play ping pong in school, though they did look like this:
Well, like this but, younger and with black socks and sandals.
May we all be a bit less PC in the New Year.
Here is one of the segments for NBC 6 Miami, Yes, I dressed as Katy Perry. I thought there would be some irony in a parenting correspondent dressing as Katy a few days after the whole Elmo debacle. I know, your thinking which Elmo debacle right? Yeah, he always seems to put his furry carpeted foot in it doesn’t he? Anyway, enjoy. I’ll post these segments as I get them.