Wednesday, October 28, 2009

How to get an extra dessert

A conversation between me, my husband, and my son about a job interview I had this morning:


Husband: So, how did it go?

Me: I thought it went fine, but I might not be what they're looking for.

Husband: Of course you're what they're looking for!

Son: Yeah, mom, you look pretty.

Me: Thank you. Let's hope they're looking for someone who looks pretty.

Son: You're lucky they're not looking for someone who looks stupid!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The driveway

You may recall that I scared away the driveway resealers last month. They came out and did the resurfacing about a week and half ago and I have noticed that there were some rather big, unsealed splotches all over the driveway but I was not about to say anything because I'm already the Crazy Lady who slammed the door in their faces the first time they showed up.

But a few days ago my husband came home and said that the driveway resurfacing company had called him because our neighbor - who is about 110, lives alone, and was convinced her house was going to cave in on her because she found a crack in the pavement of her garage - had also had her driveway resurfaced on the same day by the same company and was not happy with her results. They informed her that the day long rain right after the resurfacing was to blame but that they would come out reseal the deal (so to speak.) She THEN informed them that they would probably be hearing from her neighbors (Us!) because our driveway looks like crap, too. How about that?! She's sitting over there looking for cracks in the concrete and JUDGING our driveway!

So they're supposed to show up yesterday and the finally do show up yesterday but it's early evening and I'm working on homework with The Boy and getting ready to host a meeting in my house and when they show up I just say "Yeah, yeah, great, whatever" and don't realize until about an hour later that my car is in the garage.

Trapped.

In the garage.

I waited as long as I possibly could before I had to leave this morning but there is a tell-tale tire track down the driveway from the garage.

Still. It's not splotchy.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Why can't you just follow the rules?

I will admit that I, at times, operate under the assumption that it is easier to ask forgiveness than it is to ask permission. However, most of the time I am a big believer in Following the Rules.

The older I get the more I believe that The Rules are there to keep the majority of us safe and comfortable and unoffended...and to keep things fair. And I'm having a harder and harder time with people who think that the rules don't apply to them.

For instance....there is someone in my neighborhood who walks their dog with the requisite plastic bags in hand (so I don't have to walk out into my dog-free yard and step in something I am not prepared for) HOWEVER - and really, I have never seen anything like this in my life -- they LEAVE the full, knotted plastic bag lying in the street OR in some one's yard.

WTF?

Do they think there is someone who goes around the neighborhood picking up these little goody bags? Because there's NOT - they are just lying there - or WORSE - getting run over and squished in the street WHERE I AM TRYING TO WALK.

What kind of insane person does that? It's like if I tied up the garbage from my house nice and neat but left it lying anywhere around the neighborhood any day of the week - not in front of my own house on garbage day. I realize that it is most likely NOT fun to walk around the 'hood carrying a plastic bag of warm poo and I have a solution for that -- DON'T HAVE A DOG!

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Shameless self promotion

This coming Saturday (10/17) I will be reading my children's book, The Fairy Painting, at the Metro Detroit Baby and Kids Expo (in the Livonia Radisson Hotel) at 12:15 pm because, apparently, there is nothing I won't do to sell a few more books.

The Expo runs 11 am to 6 pm and even if you have no interest in me or my book but you do have kids (or are expecting some) you should check out the event. Admission is just $3…one dollar goes to March of Dimes. The Livonia Police Department will be there doing free kids finger printing. There will also be cupcake decorating, and if you can't find me at reading time hunt me down near the frosting. There will be representatives from Buy Buy Baby, CVS (free samples!), Mad Science, Baby Bliss, Goldfish, Providence Hospital, MESP, Moss World, Children’s Orchards, Thorton Photography, Borders, and more.

I will be selling (and signing!) books after my reading. I believe I've already pointed out that I am shameless.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Lesson learned

My daughter was NOT happy when I told her I was going to be a chaperone at the Homecoming dance. And though even my husband does not believe me I really had no interest in observing what was going on at the dance, the school needed help and I volunteered.

But my volunteering days are over.

I worked the check room at the dance last night - the teens turn over their coats and shoes and cell phones and anything else they don't want getting in the way of the grinding (not dancing) and I have a few questions for some of my fellow high-school-student-parents:

Didn't you look at what your daughter was wearing before she left the house?

Some of the dresses were SO short that the members of the Pussycast Dolls wouldn't wear them, lest they accidentally reveal too much. And I was flashed no less than 4 times as some High School Hussy lifted her leg a little too high for the crotchtacular (thank you Fug Girls) dress she had on to try and remove her 4-inch heel bondage shoes. It was like watching Britney Spears try to get out of a limo.

I'm sure there are parents who think they have bigger issues to deal with than what their daughter decides to wear and I am going to tell you that you are wrong. This is a pretty big issue. Actually, it's a pretty tiny issue. I don't care if this is how your daughter chooses to express her individuality (and really, she's not all that individual or unique if she's choosing the micro dress like everybody else). Your daughter looked like a tramp. And she was grinding on the dance floor. And there were rumors that she was even having sex...on the dance floor. She's not dressing like that because it's "cute."

Be a parent, get a backbone, and buy your daughter a whole dress next time there's a dance.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Nothing to see here, move along

What is the opposite of a hypochondriac?

Maybe it's because I'm getting older and things could be starting to go wrong with my body, or maybe I watch too many medical shows, or maybe there's just too much medical information out there for a regular person to deal with.....whatever the reason, I've turned into that person who doesn't go to the doctor because I don't want to know what's wrong.

It started a few years ago when I realized that my back had been hurting, badly, for months so I finally went to see the doctor and was convinced that he was going to tell me to stop being such a wuss but instead he sent me in for x-rays and mri's and next thing I know I'm diagnosed with a herniated disk.

I wasn't prepared for that. Or for the months of physical therapy and all the other crap that goes along with it. I'm like George Costanza on that episode of Seinfeld where the show "Jerry" has finally been picked up by NBC but George notices a white dot on his lip and reluctantly goes to the doctor and all he wants to hear is "That's nothing!" but instead they take a biopsy. All I want to hear is "That's nothing!"

But lately, it's always something.

This morning I forced myself to see my doctor after dealing with on-again-off-again symptoms (OK, I thought I had a urinary infection. I just don't like saying it.) What I WANTED to hear was "Oh, here's a prescription to clear that right up." but instead I heard "Hmmmm, no infection. We're going to take some blood and check some other things. Just lie low and drink clear liquids for now."

WTF?

I don't NEED any more scary medical stuff this year, thanks. The Red Cross took care of that earlier this year when they blackballed me for life. Right now I just want someone to give me some antibiotics and tell me to stop being such a wuss.

Friday, October 2, 2009

The price of fame

Conversation between my son and I at the bus stop this morning.


Son: Who do you think will die first, you or dad?

Me: I have no idea. (Your father, of course)

Son: I think it will be you.

Me: WHY?

Son: Because, you know, people shoot other people who are famous.

Me: I'm not famous.

Son: You seem pretty famous to me.

Me: I'm not famous enough to be shot.

Son: Well, sometimes people just shoot other people for no reason.

Me: Yeah, but that could happen to anyone.

Son: It'll probably happen to you.

(pause)

Son: Would you rather die by being shot with a gun or being eaten by a shark?

Me: Uh, I'm gonna say gun.

Son: Me too. It'd be over with faster.