HOLLA!!!!!!!!!!!

I can't stand it anymore. I am dying of curiosity. Who ARE you guys????? I don't mean my new BBFFs (best bloggy friends forever) - the ones without whose comments I would pack up my computer and go home.....but you other guys.....the blogging community calls you "lurkers".  I prefer the term "Comment-challenged Americans".  My OCD-inducing widget "Sitemeter" tells me there are 500 or so of you visiting my ridiculous blog every day. I love you and I don't even know your names. 

SO. My dream for today is to get to know each other better and maybe you could throw me a comment. (this means you, Mom.) Just click on the word "comments" at the end of the post and a window will pop up. If you're already on Google or Blogger it'll have your name, if not, just comment as "Anonymous" or type your first name under "name/url". Then voila!!! You're a commenter!

So I'll start: 

Here are some things you probably don't know about me: 

I'm an excellent rollerblader. I used to bartend at a country dance bar. I hate to cook. I'm claustrophobic. Joan Jett is my idol. I won a swing dance contest in college. I was ridiculously prepared for Y2K. I'm usually the first one on the dance floor (or table). I am the worst present wrapper you will ever meet. I haven't had natural haircolor since I was 18. I love Spongebob. I can sleep til 10:30. I can name the title, artist or lyrics of almost any 70's song. I've seen a UFO. I went to an Ivy league school. I can throw a mean roundhouse kick. I'd rather go to Friday's than a fancy restaurant. I will never "chair" anything. I miss frat parties. My cellphone ringtone is "Play That Funky Music". I may have a mojito problem.

So what about you? Check in!.... Say hi!   Have a blog or a website? Plug it! Today is all about you. Then tomorrow, back to me.

Bathtub Gangsta Wardrobe Malfunction

So the Bathtub Gangsta and I are hanging out, and I'm like "Dude -you gotta wear your jeans a little lower" and I go to scooch them down and.....

WHAT THE - ???????????!!!!!

No, no, no, no, no - a gangsta does not rock bikini tighty whiteys. No. Losing all kinds of street cred here.

So - I got out my Sharpie (did you ever wonder what your child would say if you were Sharpie-ing a doll's butt? I happen to know the answer to that: it's: "Mom - you're SO weird.")

There we go. Well, better anyway.

Then we went to Target and hooked him up with some dope bling. 

BG in the house, yo. Call me Sharpie-butt and I will cap your ass.

Better Homes & Gardens & Hotties

OMG.  Forget the lottery.  I have a brilliant magazine idea. You know how mens' motorcycle magazines, car magazines, health magazines all have bikini-clad babes sprawling about? OK - what about: womens' decorating magazines hoppin' on that bandwagon. I'm talkin' about:

Matthew in the beach house layout...

A little Marky-Mark in the living room...

and oh yeah: Prince Caspian in the kitchen.

I just need some investors: who's in?

Marriage Math

To my husband: Nothing to see here, Honey, just us girls talking about, you know, cramps and stuff. Move along.....Look! the U.S. Open is on!

OK. This is for all the newlywed girls out there. Remember how your fiancé was all involved and excited about helping you pick out stuff to register for? That's because he was spending other people's money. Now that you're married you need to master the 3 Marriage Math Moves.

Move #1: "The Round-Down".

So, let's say you buy a rug for $179. Your husband asks how much it cost. You answer:

A) $179

B) $170

C) "about $140"

The answer is C, "about $140". He's going to get the credit card bill eventually, no need to aggravate him twice. It's all about softening the blow. Because you care.

Move #2: "The Save"

You buy a patio set for $275. Your husband asks how much it costs. You answer:

A) $275

B) $270

C) "the same set in the Pottery Barn catalog was $700 and this was only $275".

The answer is C. Shift the focus from spending money to saving money. You have just saved him $425. You are thrifty and thoughtful and you rock.

Move #3: "The Bagless Shop".

You go shopping and come home with several shopping bags of awesome stuff. You 

A) Bring all the bags right in and dump them in the kitchen

B) Shout "Hey Honey! look what I got!"

C) Wait to move your purchases in until he's not around. Then dispose of the bags.

Answer: C. The "woman holding several shopping bags" visual is genetically programmed to send the male's alarm bells off. No evidence = everybody's happy.

So good luck girls, happy shopping and remember the answer to "Is that new?" is always: "This? Nah".

Bathtub Gangsta Does the Amusement Park

By Popular Demand......

Another adventure with the Traveling Bathtub Gangsta. 

Today we went to Dorney Park with the girls. 

Sunblock: check. 

Water bottles: check. 

BG: check.

Hook me up yo! This ride is off the chain!

 

Check it. Smoked this height requirement.....

Still got room here, mamî..

.East Coast!!!!!!!!!Represent!!!!

 Cotton candy is dope, G.

Editor's note: saw a few kindrid gangstas that I was itching to ask to pose with BG, but I decided my girls' safety should probably come before entertaining you guys.

Open Letter to 'Happy Nail' Salon

Dear 'Happy Nail' Technicians:

      Don't you guys watch Seinfeld? You know you're talking about me in Korean. I know you are. You're pretending you're not. I'm pretending not to know. But guess what - I totally do. And since I'm a paying customer, and a nice one, and I always tip well, after 15 years, I have had it. And so, Happy Nail, here is 

What I Would Say In Front Of You If I Knew a Language That You Did Not:

First of all, no way is your name 'Helen'. Or Karen or Janet or Grace. Cut the crap. Secondly, what is the deal with the hooker shoes. Third, is there no one to give you advice on naming the place? "Happy Nail".... "Joy Nail" ......"Shiny Nail" - my first grader could give you better suggestions. And where do I begin with the cheese-tastic decor. Nothing says "class" like plastic flowers and Christmas tinsel in June. And why do your own nails look like crap? What is up with that?

OK. Got that off my chest. I'll be in next Friday for a pedicure. With Heather, if she's available.

Trash Talking the Hamster

Generally, I'm not a super-competitive person. And while I've been feeling a little lax  lately in regards to my workout routine, I've got all kinds of Big Plans to really step up my game and have '08 be The Summer I Lose The Weight. Yeah, yeah, I know I said that in '07 but my knee hurt.

So anyway, I'm up in my daughter's room the other night and I look over at her hamster sprinting on its wheel:

.

Mother pus bucket. That little sh%tball is working out more than I am. Now that I think about it, the thing never misses a workout. A RODENT, with a brain the size of a raisin, has more discipline than I do.

Me: You know, studies show there is such a thing as "over-training"....

Rodent: (runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun)

Me: Also, if you don't "switch up " your workout, your muscles get used to it and you don't make any more gains. Read that in 'Fitness'.

Rodent: (runrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrunrun)

Me: Well, I don't know if you heard, but this is 'The Summer I'm Going To Lose The Weight', so.....

Rodent: (taking off his headphones) In your FACE!

Tales from a Cyberchondriac

If my husband could figure out the "parental controls" on my computer, the first thing he would block would be Web MD. 

Embarrassing incident #1:

11pm: bed.....ooohh I'm so tired.......start my diet again tomorrow.......so sleepy.......

don't forget toWHAT WAS THAT??????????!!!!!!!!  A very distinct sharp pain in my chesticular/lung area. OMG. Lung cancer. heart attack. collapsed lung. stroke? Allergic reaction! Definitely heart attack. Where's the baby aspirin? What if my kids find me dead in the morning. Gotta google this NOW. Tiptoe down to the office and type in "chest pain". Well. I knew it. Heart attack. Lead poisoning. Pleurisy. Anxiety. Anxiety?

OK, that time it was anxiety. After insisting on a chest x-ray because my Aunt died of lung cancer, my doctor sent me home with a valium prescription.

Embarrassing incident #2: 

Woke up one morning, looked in the mirror and there were CLUMPS of eyelashes gone from each eye! Gone! Panicked, I googled "losing eyelashes" and determined it was the onset of "alopecia" - losing all one's hair. How would my children deal with the embarrassment. I resigned myself to getting a stylish wig made from real hair. Showed everyone I know the bald spots on my eyes. Went to examine my eyelash curler to see if any were there, and realized the little cushion had a huge gap in it. I was chopping off my own eyelashes. Medical emergency solved. This time.

Get Ready, Get Set, Don't Go

This blog post was supposed to be about Brangelina. About telling them to stop, already, for crap's sake. That the United Nations called: they want their delegates back. I had some good name ideas for the twins, like "Really" and "Good-Looking". Also, some suggestions of who they might consider adopting next, like Sean Preston & Jayden James....or Lindsay Lohan.

But the truth is, my first born baby girl is graduating elementary school tomorrow and will be a middle schooler and I am a teary, photo album-browsin', sad song-listenin' mess. Do yourself a favor and do not download Billy Ray Cyrus' song 'Ready, Set, Don't Go'. Like I just did. To torture myself. Why don't I just make myself a mix tape of "I Hope You Dance"  "Memories" and "The Times of Your Life". 

I don't know, it's more than the end of a school year. It's the end of my role as Her Audience for every holiday concert and Open House...art shows and school plays....Halloween parade and Thanksgiving "feasts". Read-a-thons and book fairs...and I was her Class Mom and I chaperoned her field trips. And I brought my camera every time. And her face would light up when I caught her eye. And she'd wave her little hand and grin with excitement. And I would revel in the knowledge that it would be like this for a long time.

But it isn't. It really isn't a long time at all. 

Lunch With Jesus

At a dinner party recently, our hostess, Maura, brought out a book during dessert called "IF": it's a book of hypothetical questions such as "If you could wake up with a button next to your bed that did anything at all, what would it be?"

Lynne: "coffee."

Maura: "Lynne. Anything at all. Global warming. World peace."

Lynne: "I'm sticking with coffee."

If you were hoping for a night of soul searching, this was not your crowd. Which brings me to the question posed to me: "If you could have lunch with one person, living or dead, who would it be?" And I answered, naturally, "Josh Holloway." (star and hunk extrordinaire of "Lost" ). Growing ever certain that her closest friends were a group of superficial dimwits, Maura suggested that I might have chosen Martin Luther  King or Jesus. I stand by my decision, however, as the two meetings would have gone something like this:

Lunch With Josh

Me: Hey.

JH: Hey.

Me: You look hot.

JH: Thanks.

Me: So after this you want to go do it in your car?

JH: Cool.

Lunch With Jesus

Me: Hi - sorry to take you away from....well, all the stuff you do.

Jesus: yeah, I'm pretty busy.

Me: It's just that "IF" book - do you ever play that?

Jesus: Well, I know all the answers already.

Me: Oh right....So do you you know what you want to order?

Jesus: I'll just have a goat cheese salad and a mineral water.

Me: Me too - except I'll have a chardonnay.

Jesus: You always do.

Me: What? not always.

Jesus: Mostly.

Me: So do you know about everything I do?

Jesus: Ummm....Yup.

Me: Even the time - 

Jesus: Yeah.

Me: Well. That's awkward.

Jesus: mm-hmm.

Me: Well if you know everything, am I ever going to lose this 10 pounds?

Jesus: Probably no.

Me: What! Yes I am! I'm starting Monday.

Jesus: Whatever.

Traveling Bathtub Gangsta

In the tradition of Travelocity's "Roaming Gnome" and Flat Stanley, I took The Bathtub Gangsta out on errands with me today.

Nectarines are dope, yo.

Keep it tight.

Hook a brotha up.

And no  lie- this hoochie mama was posing in a boutique window like it was Amsterdam. And it was love at first sight. Gangsta style.

Countdown to the Camp-less Summer.

I am an idiot. Over the past 3 months, while smart moms everywhere were firing off applications and checks to day camps, sleep away camps, sports clinics and summer education enrichment, I got it into my pea-sized brain that This Was the Summer We'd Forego It All and kick it old school - freestyle. See the Mary Cassat painting? Those were the pastels the rogue section of my brain used to paint visions of joy and harmony and dappled sunlight. While alarms were going off on the logical side of my brain,  I was busy dreaming up sample schedules:

8:00 am: Fruit -of-the-day and pancake breakfast. Sing-along.

9:00 am: Mom & Me Yoga, followed by Twister.

10:00 am:"Butterfly Girls" Book Club in hammock. Use dandelions for bookmarks.

11:00 am: home-made popsicles from fresh-squeezed juice.

11:10 am: Bubbles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

11:30 am: Driveway chalk paintings a la Mary Poppins. Sing "Spoonful of Sugar" etc.

12:00 Picnic lunch with Jack Johnson music. Discuss college possibilities with 10 & 7 year old.

1:00 pm: Pen Pal Club. Write to the Amish. And the Jonas Brothers.

1:30 pm: nap.

2:00 pm: Lemonade stand. Send proceeds to China earthquake relief. 

4:00 pm: Craft Time:  Spell "Love" in Chinese letters with popsicle sticks. Send to earthquake victims. 

5:00 pm: Jump-rope "see you tomorrow" song.

6:00 pm: bed.

Reality Check: Pop Tarts, Applejacks, Disney Channel, Game Cube, Nintendo, and an amorphous, unending , ear-splitting, nerve-grating, Valium-prescription-inducing soundtrack of:

YouSaidYouWereGoingToPlayWithMeAndYouAlwaysDoThatMOM!!!!!!!!SheNeverLetsMeUseHerStuffButShe'sAlwaysStealingMySttuffMOM!!!!!!!YouSaidWeCouldn'tEatTheCandyButSheTookSomeMOM!!!!!!!!!That'sNotFairYesItIs!!!NoItIsn't!!!!MOM!!!IHateYouAndINeverWantToPlayWithYouAgainMOM!!!!!!!!

Mom?

"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.....

in a most delight-ful way."