If My Hair Could Talk

 Some days we just wake up looking cool.

Having short hair is like opening a weird present every morning that your old, great aunt gave you.

Unpredictable.

I woke up the other day to this, and I actually liked it. I put makeup on, and just let it be funky. Until half the day went by and Tom said, "I like your hair, but you're not going with me to the grocery store like that, are you?"

Class, all the way.

Hmph! I guess not everyone can handle my hair's "unbridled enthusiasm."

I suppose he prefers the classier look, and I'm not convinced I know how to be classy. I think he's confusing "class" with "crass."

I burp, talk about bodily functions for fun, inhale my food like it's a contest, and put on lipstick in public (oh my!)

I'm a rebellion I tell you! Just like Thelma and/or Louise! I'm dangerous! I'm living on the edge! Except when it comes to expiration dates on food. And yellow lights in Los Angeles. Oh, and tap water. Bottled is better.

But I'm 95% rebellion, for sure! Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go mop the kitchen.

In It To Win It.

 All eyes on California Lotto tonight! Only 37 minutes until we see if I'm a big, fat, lucky winner.

Let's just play like I won. What would I do?

* I'd buy everyone in the world a Coke. Or, better yet, make everyone drink a god-damned glass of water. Buncha dehydrated fools.

* I'd rent an RV and go to every buffet in the state of Texas. Why Texas? Because Texas people know how to eat. If you need further proof, just look at the ten fattest cities in America.

* I'd buy out a candy store and let people come in and get whatever they wanted. Except for the sour straws. Those are for me.

* I'd close a restaurant down, so my family could eat at their leisure.

* I'd take out fifty thousand dollars in cash and swim in it. Then take a shower.

* Build a public park that has cool tree houses for kids to play in.

* Start a scholarship program for middle class kids. You know, the kids who are not rich enough or not poor enough to qualify for programs.

* Build a time machine. For Tom. Not for me.

* Everyday would be spa day.

* Try a new wine and cheese from a different country every night.

* Hire a fucking chef.

* Replace my old Camry with a new Camry. In crimson red. Because that sounds better than just plain, old "red."

* Have someone sew me a quilt.

* Make it mandatory to ride a hot air balloon before the age of 18. Government funded, or course. Why not? They use our money to do all kinds of other frivolous crap.

* Buy organic everything all the time.

* Send Amelie to the best BADASS university ever. I'll get back to you when I figure out where that is.

* Buy a scooter, ride it in the middle of the street, and refuse to get out of the way.

* Donate money to Alzheimer's research. I love you, pawpaw.

* And anything else I left out.

8 minutes left! You mean it took me almost half an hour to write this crap?

Party. On.

Ha HA!

We gonna rock this party like it's 1999!

Or 2012. Whichever you prefer.

Almost done planning Amelie's 5th birthday party! Yay! I designed the invitations myself. I'll post up the design later, in case anyone wants to use the template for their party. For free. 'Cause I'm awesome like that.

Tom and I decided that each kid gets a full-blown party like this only on the following age milestones: 5, 10, 16, 18, 21. In my opinion, age 21 will be the funnest! We can have a martini theme, with hor d'oeuvres cut out in the shape of a mustache. And since Tom and I will be paying for it, the kids have to appease me!

*insert evil laugh here*

Party City, 99 Cent store and Michael's Craft store have all become my B.F.F. since planning this celebration. But, my attention span and wallet have run dry, and it's time to say goodbye until birthday number 10 rolls around.

Just a heads up: the next post I write, I'm going to talk about why I wish I was black. For real.

A Dash of Nerd

Goes a long way.

It's a lazy Saturday morning, and Amelie and Tom are playing Halo for the Xbox. Amelie doesn't get a controller or anything, but she likes to boss Tom around as he plays. Here's some of the dialogue I'm getting right now:

Amelie, "Can't you run? He's gonna kill you if you do that again!"

Tom, "Whoa! They hit me in the motorcycle. What am I gonna do?"

Amelie, "Then just move! Now it's going really fast! Turn! Turn! Turn!"

Tom, "Did we get away from them?"

Amelie, "Let's find bad guys that are not strong- good luck!"

Tom, "See that blue arrow? I'm supposed to go up there."

Amelie, "Go find that bad guy. And hide under something!"

Tom, "They blew up my motorcycle!"

END SCENE.

Free entertainment!

Since being with Tom, I've definitely upped my "nerd quotient." When I first met him, I wanted nothing to do with Sci-fi, err excuse me "Syfy." <---Lame. I'd cringe at the thought of ninjas, spaceships or ray guns.

I didn't really become okay with Tom watching the stuff until Amelie was around 3 years old. She started to take a major interest in what daddy was watching, and before I knew it, she was his late-night partner watching "Doctor Who." Obviously, if the particular episode was gory, we'd turn it off. But most of the time, it's pretty harmless.

Over time, I guess I just sort of wore down. Until one day while they were watching it, something odd happened. I started to like "The Doctor's" unusually large forehead, the cute characters, and the confusing plot lines. Suddenly, the dread of seeing it turned into slight excitement. But, don't tell Tom.

I've become so much nerdier that, to me, The Twilight series is not paced fast enough. Where's the action? Why are there so many damned pauses between dialogue? I'll bet the movie could literally be cut in half, if they edited out those long silences.

SNL really ought to do a skit (if they haven't already) about this. The writers wouldn't even need to write much. The humor would just come from 5 minutes of the actors staring at each other.

The "Hunger Games" is supposed to be much, much more fast-paced. I mean, they have to fight for food. You can't really sit around and ponder your undying love for too long. I hope.

Signing off, your lovable nerd:

This Sh*t Just Got Classy

 Hello!

Welcome to my new, improved blog! It was worth the week long wait from "Designer Blogs.com" This is a short post, just to show off, really.

I'll write more this weekend! Everyone have a lovely Friday night!

HOT Mommies!

Yesterday, while I was at the park with Amelie, I did some people-watching. It's one of my favorite things to do. I like to see what they're wearing, how they interact with their kids, what they're eating, that sort of stuff. Yes, I'm nosey.

While we're on the subject of food, let's talk about the fascinating snacks I've seen moms bring for their kids. Dried seaweed squares. I saw these chubby little toddlers chowing down on them. I was curious, so I asked the mama about it. She said her kids love them, and offered me one.

I handed it to Amelie and watched her take a nibble. Her face went from blank to repulsion in about two seconds. I was kind of embarrassed, because the lady was so nice to offer, but it was...not good. Too fishy for our blood. We ended up discreetly throwing it behind a bush. Sorry, lady.

Cutie's oranges are also big. I totally understand that. I could eat my weight in those things. They're like little juice packs sprinkled with crack.

Something I've noticed about moms in Los Angeles, is they put forth quite a bit of effort in their choice of clothing- even for a play date at the local park. Having been in the fashion industry (not anymore, that is a whole other post) I really appreciate seeing mommies fashionably put together. I think most women are secretly scared that after they have kids, they'll lose their "cool factor."

The truth is: you don't have to.

One of the best stores to get trendy, yet affordable clothing is Target. And I swear to you guys, I am not getting paid to tout their horn (a girl can dream though.)

I went online and put an outfit together that would be perfect for a sunny day with your kid. If you can't do skinny jeans, opt for a bootleg in a dark wash, with a higher rise to combat the dreaded "muffin top."

The trend I'm demonstrating here is called "color blocking." It's solid blocks of color, like the tank and jeans. Then you accessorize with bright, bold pops of colors and patterns. The hat is super breathable and light (I tried it on at the store.) The shoes are flat espadrilles because, at a park, especially with sand, there's no way those heels are going to cut it. The wristlet is cool because of the print, and also because you don't have to lug around a huge bag.

Just because you're a mom, doesn't mean you have to dress like one (or act like one, for that matter.) 

Two Girls, a Guy and Heartbreak

"Lindzi Face"

"Smarmy Brat"

Warning: The following post is dedicated solely to my suspicions, opinions and rants concerning "The Bachelor." If you don't watch the show and want nothing to do with it, please hit the "back" button and silently retreat. I don't blame you.

All right! Now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let's get right down to it. 

We've got the finale coming up tonight on ABC at 8pm pacific time. If you live in another time zone, feel free to figure that out, because I'm lazy. Just keepin' it real, folks. 

So, here's the deal. In one corner we've got the blond, girl next door, named Lindzi. By the way, common names misspelled purposely, is one of my pet peeves. At any rate, there are more important reasons to feel sorry for Lindzi other than her parents' lack of spelling skills and her husky, man voice.

I feel sorry for her right now because she's up against a big, black, bitchy tarantula named Courtney. This woman has to be one of the meanest antagonists I've ever seen on reality TV. Eat your heart out, Omorosa. There's a new villain in town.

For eleven weeks, we women have observed Courtney's unabashed nastiness. I realize she's in it to win it, but dayumm. Creating nick names such as "Horsey," "Fatty," and "The Kid" for her competition is pretty low.

Surely, the treasure she hoped to win in the end, was worth all that icky behavior. Let's take a look-see at the coveted prize, shall we?

"Ben deceived"

That's the prize?

No, seriously. 

Oh.

Damn. 

It's been a fun eleven weeks, but I've grown tired of Courtney's antics. And I'm sick of Ben's one word answers, to which the women collectively swoon. Not only is he the dullest crayon in the box, he's also a poor listener and judge of character. The other women tried to warn him about Courtney numerous times, but all they were met with was an ape-like "grunt." What a big dummy.

Anyway, I'm pretty certain, this big dummy picks the bitchy tarantula. And I'm also pretty certain, he regrets the whole big mess. 

I, however, do not regret watching. It gave me a reason to sit guilt-free for two hours every Monday parked in front of my TV. It gave my dirty, rolled up socks purpose as I threw them at the TV angrily. And I'm sure Dreyer's ice cream is thankful for my insatiable appetite which could only be satisfied with Rocky Road.

I'll be meeting you all tonight for the finale with baited breath. Everyone be sure to have your snacks and socks ready.

Peace out.

My Birthday!!!

Today is my birthday!

Even though age is just a number, I gotta say, I like the number 31. It's the first leg of the journey toward age 40. Oh, the possibilities. I still have time to climb Mount Everest! Or jump from Niagra Falls! Or win a pie eating contest!

Today, Tom is taking me to Santa Barbara, where our hotel offers free wine and cheese tastings in the evening. If you're not big on wine and cheese (what's wrong with you?) you can partake in the also free, milk and cookies. After which, a heavy set woman will tuck you into bed.

Yesterday, I had a brilliant idea that I would go against the grain and have a birthday donut, instead of a cupcake. I got so excited by the sweet prospect, that I went out and bought one.

Then I ate it.

And now, a donut doesn't sound like a good idea anymore. Maybe tiramisu?

There's a heated pool at the hotel, and I can't wait to dive on in there. With my new short hair, I don't have to worry about it getting wet. I can swim and frolic in the water with ease.

This is my year, folks. This is the year I climb, jump and eat something!

I'm off to pack! Byeeeee!

Love

Love can make butterflies in your chest, fluttering away all your worries. Love can create light in the darkest of places. Love is a diamond, multi-faceted with different shades of sparkle. Love can flood your body like sweet saltwater filling an empty seashell on the beach. Love is windy, bouncing between vessels, touching all that it comes in contact with.

We can't see love and yet we know, love is beautiful.

What an amazing gift we have been given. To have the capability to forgive wrong doings, to give of ourselves whole heartedly and never expect anything in return. To hug a stranger with such sincerity that it leaves a shimmering imprint on their soul.

I hope to always be a butterfly in the light, sparkling like a diamond, flooding all like sweet saltwater, and bounding through lofty clouds in the wind. I hope you will join me.

The Truth Will Set You Free

Love this book

For some reason, religious people always latch onto me and tell me I need to be "saved." I'm told that, if I don't admit I'm a sinner, and accept Jesus Christ as my savior, that I'm going to hell.

I've probably been "saved" four times now. Once, when I was around 10 years old at a Baptist church, another time in my teens, and twice in my twenties. Every time I've been saved it's been a very uncomfortable and jarring experience. The people saving you, gather around you, they cry, speak in tongues, and expect that you too, will feel what they feel.

 First of all, the whole concept of being "saved" boggles my mind. You're basically saying, that if you aren't saved, then you're unsafe. Unsafe from what? Life? Bad choices? The devil? Which, by the way, I don't believe the devil is real. The only hell is the one we create from our poor choices in life. I believe God is an all powerful, loving, amazing entity, and that he doesn't judge us. How could he? We are all his children. We are not meant to be damned. God is love, and love is God.

How can people expect me to agree with the statement, "We are all born into this world with sin?" Are you honestly telling me, that my child came into this world as a sinner? A beautiful, new soul, who just came straight from heaven is a sinner?

It's very aggravating for non-religious people. Most spiritual people like myself, don't go door to door trying sell our beliefs, and yet, when we do speak up, we are attacked.

As I'm getting older, I feel its so very important to be true to myself. I'm not going to pretend that I'm something I'm not. I'm not religious. I disagree with the stories and their origin in the bible. I believe there is an afterlife, and that the spirits who have crossed over can communicate with us. I believe there are real psychic people who can reconnect us with our loved ones from the other side. Are there psychics who are fake and rip us off? Yeah. Of course. There are people in all industries who do that.

Do I wish everyone believed how I believe? Hell no! This world is a melting pot and that's what makes it what it is. You know what I want? People to stop trying to convert me. Please don't tell me "God told me to invite you to my church" or "I'm worried for you because you aren't saved." All my life, people have used those phrases. I know you're just trying to do what you think is right, but not everyone thinks like you, or wants to. Please respect my choice.

Kids Will Be Kids

Ever have those moments where you think, "Dang, my kid really gets it." And most of the time, she does. I've been sick all week and she's been very forgiving. We haven't gotten to do much of anything, except sleep, watch TV and eat.

Anyway, I felt that she and I really had a connection so, a few minutes ago, I lamented, "Oh, Amelie, I hate being so sick. I feel just awful!" She looked at me, stopped for a second, and then yelled, "I have to go POO POO!" and ran out of the room.

Brilliant.

Now she's painting Strawberry Shortcake, which looks quite good, I might add. She and I just put a load of laundry to wash, paid rent, and are baking up a frozen pizza. Yeah, yeah, I know I said I wouldn't buy those, but, they were on sale at Albertson's and I just couldn't pass up an easy meal. Especially, feeling so sick right now.

I'm not really sure what I have exactly. It might be the flu? I cough stuff up all day, my skin hurts to the touch, and my head is POUNDING. I have to take Advil every four hours or it's just terrible. Fortunately, if I take the medicine, I feel good enough to do some cleaning around the house, etc.

The other day, Amelie and I left the house, to go get power bars for Tom's breakfast at Trader Joe's. It was the first time we'd been out in a while, and it just happened to be cold and windy as all get out. But, after we did that errand, I felt so bad for her, that we went to the park and I let her swing for half an hour. The kid looked like she was in heaven. And, even though the wind picked up and I was feeling sicker, we stayed so she could have that damned swing ride. I paid for it the next day. But, whatever.

*Insert pity party here*

It's Thursday! And my hubby is coming home! And all my favorite shows come on tonight! Woohoo! I can't wait to see the premiere of the new show, "Awake." That looks like it's going to be a winner.