December 18th, 2011

A Glimpse At My Christmas To Do List

With just one week left until Christmas, my husband and I have been busy all weekend working on our respective To Do lists. Now that I’ve put our lists on the same page, I can understand why!

How I'm spending the weekend before Christmas

So, you know why Santa says “Ho, Ho, Ho!” around this time each year? It’s not that he’s laughing. Oh, no. He’s reminding husbands of the only person who’ll have the energy for sex after their wives have spent the weekend working themselves ragged while they watched football.

December 4th, 2011

I Can Get Over The Icky Fingers

Dear O.B. Tampons,

After this, all is forgiven. Even how icky you make me feel.


November 13th, 2011

Want to try something fresh? (Fruit and veg delivery!)

If you live in Colorado, New Jersey, Michigan, Chicago, or the greater Kansas City area and would like to try home-delivery of non-GMO, organic fruits and vegetables, I’ve got a 50%-off promo code for your first delivery.* Leave a comment below using a valid email address. I only have five (5) promo codes to share per month, so don’t delay!

*No, I don’t get diddly squat out of this.

November 10th, 2011

A Little Pre-Thanksgiving Unpleasantness

Have I ever told you that Thanksgiving is my very favorite holiday of the year? It’s true, I love it even more than Christmas (sorry, baby Jesus) or my own birthday (which really ought to be a national holiday, don’t you think?) despite the lack of gifts associated with Thanksgiving. See, it’s all about the food. Or, rather, the lack of guilt over eating it. What other meal is it not only acceptable, but actually encouraged, to gorge one’s self to the point of pain and then, as soon as a bit of wiggle’s returned to the waistband of your pants, do it again and again? As someone who loves to cook — and to eat — it’s the perfect holiday!

Or, rather, it would be the best holiday of all if there wasn’t pressure to get together with far-away family members, particularly She Who Must Not Be Named, who begins her campaign of terror and manipulation hinting about getting together for the holidays sometime in March.

Last year, I was smart enough to pre-empt her visit by inviting my mother who waited until the last minute (at my request) to let me know she couldn’t make it. By then, it was too late for SWMNBN to make travel plans. Even the discount car rental places were all booked up. Pity.

This year, I really can’t get out of it. After all, I stayed home alone this summer when VH and the Big-Eyed Boy went to pay homage visit. Fortunately, she can only stay three days, and not the marathon week- or two-week visits of years past. Sure, it still means the same amount of vacuuming, scrubbing and dusting, and I’ll be making — and doing the dishes by myself after — three meals a day while she’s here. But it’s only three days and, best yet, she’s flying out ON Thanksgiving morning.

That’s right: I’ll be getting the holiday visit with her over before the actual holiday! If you ask me, that’s a good enough reason to have a second piece of pumpkin pie. Maybe even a third.

November 10th, 2011

Celebrity Breeders

From the moment Beyoncé announced her pregnancy at the VMA’s, the gossip mags have covered just about every aspect of it: what she’s wearing, whether her bump is real, and when she’s due. Considering how the papparazi swarm around her, flash bulbs clicking away the instant she steps outside, it’s a wonder we haven’t all been treated to photos of Beyonce getting a prenatal massage. Maybe she’s trying to lay low right now while we mere mortals recover from learning that her baby will be bathing in a $7,000 pink Swarovksi crystal baby tub. Really.

Fortunately, Jessica Simpson’s been more circumspect about her pregnancy. First, she kept mum on the matter, letting the gossip mags speculate on the cause of her growing girth. Then on Halloween she decided to be mum no more, showing off her bulging baby bump in a mummy costume. Get it? Get it? Yeah, it was pretty bad.

But it’s not just female celebrities breeding like rabbits right now. Nope, back in the news is perennial papa, Mel Gibson, who’s been slapped with a paternity suit by some reality TV bimbo. And just think: the ink isn’t even dry on the judge’s order in Mel’s last paternity/custody lawsuit!

Now, when you give it some thought, the real surprise isn’t that Beyoncé’s baby will be spoiled, that Jessica Simpson’s packing on pounds, or that Mel Gibson can’t keep it in his pants. No, the true surprise is that Kim Kardashian hasn’t jumped all over this celebrity breeding stuff. Then again, a baby requires a lot more than a 72-day commitment.

November 3rd, 2011

My Kitchen Renovation Is In Progress

The kitchen is really the center of our house, as it probably is in yours, too. Ours has a fireplace and one wall that’s almost entirely windows. You can’t enter the house without traipsing through or past the kitchen, and since I’m an avid home cook, most of our visitors wind up hanging out there. So I guess it’s not surprising that the kitchen is the room for which I have the biggest plans, and yet the room in which we’ve done the least.

Oh, we’ve rid the room of the hideous roosters and apple green paint. We repainted the wood cabinets and replaced their contractor-grade door- and drawer-pulls with tiny silver spoons and forks I bought at an antiques store. When our refrigerator died a couple of years ago we bought one that actually matches the other appliances. I felt like a real grown-up then.

One thing we haven’t fixed? The floor. The white porcelain tile floor that shows every drip, drab and crumb. The white floor that’s still shiny enough in most spots to make it obvious when I skip mopping for the day. The white tile floor that is cracked in at least a half-dozen places where we walk, while by the stove there’s an entire tile missing so I have to keep a mat there to cover the subfloor.

I hate that floor.

So why haven’t we replaced it? Well, like a lot of things in our lives, it still works. That is, we’re not walking on plywood, and spills are still easy enough to mop up. (Daily.) But the main reason is because ripping out a porcelain tile floor is a truly tedious, back-breaking job that involves spending hours on one’s knees wielding a hammer to crack the tile, then a chisel to get down to the subfloor, then a wheelbarrow to cart loads of broken tiles out to the garage where our trash company will not pick them up. That means, getting them out of the house doesn’t mean the work’s done: we still have to load them into the van and drive them to the city dump, one van load at a time. It’s work for young people, I tell you, which is probably why we should have made it our first project in the house since these last six years have been doozies.

Today, though, I decided I could stand it no more. I’d taken the kitchen rugs out to the deck so I could mop the floor (again), and forgot to bring them in before washing the breakfast dishes. One wrong move and — YOWZA — a cracked tile sliced a nice chunk off the bottom of my foot. Naturally, I bled everywhere.

Now, I could’ve cleaned up the carnage. That’s one nice thing about porcelain: blood splatters wipe up real well. But I’d already mopped the dang thing once today; I wasn’t about to do it again. So, after tying a kitchen towel to the bottom of my blood-soaked foot, I hobbled to my husband’s tool bench and found his hammer and chisel. By the time I needed to pick my son up from school, I’d only been able to crack up and haul out six tiles. SIX! And meanwhile I’ve worked so hard that my knees are locked up, my back is aching, and my hand has stiffened into something sore and claw-like.

So I’ve decided I was right: tearing out this tile really IS a young person’s job. As it happens, I know a young person with destructive tendencies and too much time on his hands. A young person whose adolescent hormones have lately led him to mouth off far too much for my liking. A young, smart-mouthed person who, when it comes down to it, is behind 99% of the drips, drabs and crumbs that made me hate this white porcelain tile floor in the first place.

Now, every time he mouths off, talks back, argues, rolls his eyes, calls me names or even breathes funny, he’s required to crack, remove and haul out one tile. At the rate he’s been at it this afternoon, we’ll be down to the subfloor in my 20’x26′ kitchen this weekend.

I love it when a plan comes together.

November 3rd, 2011

Amazon Announces A Kindle Lending Library!

Since VH and I have drastically different tastes in reading material (his sucks), keeping our Kindles stocked with new titles has been pretty pricey. Not anymore! Amazon has opened a Kindle lending library for Amazon Prime members.

Amazon Prime, if you aren’t already aware, is an $79 all-you-can-eat free 2-day shipping plan from Amazon. But you don’t just get free shipping with it — though in our house, the price of the membership is worth that alone. You also get free access to over 100,000 instant videos, so if you’re as ticked off at Netflix as we are, you can make the switch painlessly.

And did I mention the free Kindle Lending Library with thousands of books, including over 100 NY Times bestsellers like The Hunger Games???

UPDATE: To borrow books from the lending library, you MUST get them via your Kindle. Even though Amazon’s price page will tell you that it’s a free library book, you WILL be charged. (We learned this the hard way.) To borrow a book, turn on your wireless connection, go to the Kindle store and click “See All Categories”. You’ll see a link to the Kindle Owners Lending Library, and from there you can browse the thousands of titles available. Also note: there is a 1-book per calendar month limit.

November 3rd, 2011

Kim Kardashian: Poor Little Big-Butted Girl

When I was a kid, I’d stand in my bathroom using my hairbrush as a microphone and pretend to be a celebrity giving an interview. I actually think I’d make a very good celebrity: I love spending money, have a talent for saying stupid or offensive things off the cuff, and I could easily become accustomed to a life in which others handle my cooking, cleaning, clothing selection and personal grooming. Also, I could seriously get into being paid to party.

Of all the celebrities currently stinking up the headlines, I wouldn’t mind being Kim Kardashian right about now. Oh, sure, I know the Twitterverse is abuzz with outrage over the obvious sham of her 72-day marriage. But who else could turn a marriage that was shorter than the average Sea Monkey’s life into a topic more hotly discussed than the Herman Cain’s smarmy past, the Occupy Wherever protests, whether Conrad Murray killed Michael Jackson, and how Lindsay Lohan is going to get off easy yet again… combined?!

Thanks to Kim, we even have a new measurement of time: the “Kardashian”. Basically, it’s a unit of 72 days of marriage. As in, I’ve been married to VH for 67.67 Kardashians. How about you?

As for Kim’s side of the story, she’s blaming her divorce on “intuition”, saying that she’s just following her heart. Why the hell she didn’t do that before that $10 million wedding (roughly $133,000 per day of marriage) is unclear, but I suggest her intuition was buried the same place her head is.