a happier girl

Ten facts to make your Monday complete

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 03:14:00 +0000

1. The new Jim Carey movie A Christmas Carol is a little too much for a new six year old. And by "a little too much" I mean she'll be coming home from her movie outing a little early due to scary ghosts. But not before she sucked down an entire Icee and a box of gummy bears! Not that she needs to go to the movies with a friend to lay her hands on some candy. Our household is still grazing on the giant bowl of candy my household insisted I bring back home from work.

2. My husband thinks Tom Brady has collagen in his cheeks. He hit rewind so I could weigh in on the issue. When I didn't agree with him, he claimed he knows these things. I can't decide if he means he knows men's cheeks or Tom Brady's specifically.

3. Why would Tom Brady get collagen in his cheeks?

4. What's my husband doing noticing Tom Brady's cheeks?

5. This website makes me laugh. Out loud.

6. I just googled "new moon movie release date."

7. When I was done, I thought about marking the date on my kitchen calendar.

8. I decided not to mark the calendar because I refuse to believe my memory is such a sieve I won't be able to remember the weekend before Thanksgiving.

9. I will gag if I have to hear one more thing about Kloe Kardashian's wedding.

10. My mother's physical therapist seemed confused recently by the fact that I don't belong to Facebook. Maybe I'm not as modern as a I thought.

That's love

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 03:20:00 +0000

When a public restroom is out of paper towels or the hand dryer is on the fritz, my children immediately turn and wipe their hands on my pants legs without even asking. Sometimes when they're feeling generous they take the time to shake some of the water off before hand.

Movies Netflix has sent us

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 03:39:00 +0000

1. Gone, Baby, Gone - Not perfect but I still say thumbs up. Interesting. I couldn't get over the fact that the mother of the lost girl was Holly from The Office. She was amazing. And the ending left my husband and I debating who was right the rest of the night. I can't remember the last time a movie left us talking quite that much. Not perfect but I still say thumbs up.

2. Milk - No wonder Sean Penn won an Oscar. Holy cow, he was good. But I thought the movie itself was just kind of okay.

3. Knocked up - Liked it. It's not PG but it made us laugh. But I still don't believe a girl like that would fall in love with a guy like that. I realize she was pregnant and wanted to give him a shot for the sake of the baby, but whatever. He and his friends were idiots.

4. Doubt - Meryl Streep is great but I feel like I just announced to the world that water is wet. And is it just me or is Amy Adams just completely sweet and charming? I seriously love her. I can't decide if I'd want her to be my best friend or my daughter.

5. Tropic Thunder - Eh. But Tom Cruise was so funny it makes me laugh again just thinking about it.

6. Taken - Liam Neeson was good and so was the action. But I hated everything else. Especially the acting job of the girl playing his daughter.

7. Changeling - Eh. But Angelina Jolie was good. It still baffles me that anyone ever thought a mother wouldn't know her kid.

8. Superbad - Eh.

9. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Holy crap, I liked this movie. And I didn't even want to. Complete sob fest at the end. But, seriously, holy crap did I like this movie. Really good.

10. Gran Torino - Holy crap, I liked this movie, too. My husband liked it more than Million Dollar Baby. I think that's sort of blasphemous because I really, really loved Million Dollar Baby. But I really liked this movie too. But I liked The Curious Case of Benjamin Button more. Holy crap did I like that movie. It still amazes me how much.

Inability to make dramatic life decisions = High need for margaritas and cuddling. Leftover Halloween candy is a plus but not required.

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 01:44:00 +0000

I explained to my husband on the way into the restaurant that I had just entered the one week a month I'm not allowed to make dramatic life decisions. In turn, he explained to the waiter that I needed the Grande margarita instead of the small margarita. A vat of margarita was promptly placed in front of me and I immediately became convinced that I can and should make dramatic life decisions. But then we came home and I crawled under my 400 thread count sheets and suddenly who the hell needs to make dramatic life decisions anyway. Holy cow, grande margaritas are great! Mandatory cuddling for everyone tonight!

Strange but true

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 04:07:00 +0000

I once blamed a headache on the fact that my hair was greasy and needed to be washed.

My husband would have you believe that this is proof of my above average craziness. I would have you know Tylenol didn't put a dent in the headache but a hot shower did. Specifically, a hot shower that included shampoo. Case closed.

Things My Children Have Actually Said to Me Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 04:00:00 +0000

"Look, Momma, I'm a princess." Said by my son. Clearly. He was wearing his sister's dress up heels at the time. He also once told me, "I'm sparkly" while showing off the sparkly lip gloss his sister put on him.

"Who was my Momma when I was a little bitty baby?" Said by my daughter after discussing their grandmother taking care of me when I was a little bitty baby.

Said by my daughter while stroking my arm, "You and I have the same kind of skin. Except mine is smooth and soft and yours is kind of bumpy."

"When I get a computer someday, my password is going to be 'princess'" Said by my daughter while trying to convince me to tell her my password.

Other installments:
Things My Children Have Actually Said to Me Part 1

Rules for Life

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 04:19:00 +0000

1. If you've been trying unsuccessfully to fall asleep for an hour, you should get up and take a Tylenol PM before it gets any later.

2. You should never make dramatic life decisions while you're having your period. Many is the boyfriend I nearly broke up with during that time of the month. And I once watched a tourism commercial for South Dakota and thought my life wouldn't be complete unless I moved there. Seriously. Never underestimate the importance of knowing when to take a deep breath and give it a few days.

3. Besides a house and a car, if you can't afford to pay cash for it, you can't really afford it.

4. If your children are little, serve them dinner on time or you will pay.

5. Learn to drive a standard if you are going on The Amazing Race.

6. Everyone thinks their kids won't be those kids. You know, the kids flinging their weeping body on the floor in the Target doorway.

The candy stronghold has been compromised

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 02:29:00 +0000

Everyone's your friend when they think the candy stronghold is secure in the giant bowl on the kitchen counter. But tell those same people you took the candy to work and suddenly nobody knows your name. Never mind that one of them suggested you take the candy to work to get rid of it. Never mind that everyone was grazing on Kit Kats and Milk Duds for five days straight. And definitely never mind that everyone knows we only ended up with three giants bags of leftover candy because one of them went grocery shopping while he was hungry and returned with $30 in candy, 8 pounds of assorted meats, 3 kinds of eggos, six frozen pizzas and so much Rice-a-Roni he actually had to reorganize our pantry to make room for it.

I think the lesson to be learned here is twofold. One, friends don't let friends grocery shop hungry. Two, don't give a man's candy away. It could affect the quality and duration of your cuddle time later that night.

Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 19:04:00 +0000

I'm posting this from my Blackberry. It only took me a year to figure out how to do this but I'm not going to let that stop me from feeling modern and trendy. I'd say I'm up with the times except yesterday I had to ask my husband to explain what Bluetooth is. But so be it.

The ability to blog while sitting on a cold hard bench next to the playground while my kids play couldn't have come along at a better time either. For reasons that continue to elude me, I signed up for NaBloPoMo again this year. One second you're a total slackjob blogger failing to post for two months straight and then suddenly you decide to go all prolific for one month. It's one of the great mysteries of the universe. That and what the hell happened to Mickey Rourke's face.

Anyway, have blackberry will blog. My ability to fritter my life away just got exponentially easier. Holla.

Five products I really like

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 21:04:00 +0000

1. Betty Crocker Cookbook the Bridal edition. My family has loved every recipe I've ever made out of it. Instead of buying myself new cookbooks to find recipes, I've decided to just start making my way through it instead. It also explains how to cook just about anything. It was a wedding gift from a great aunt who is clearly a gift giving genius. I would never have guessed how much I'd end up using it. If I weren't committed to buying people crap off their registry or giving cash, I'd give this as a wedding gift until the end of time.

2. Tonka Lights and Sounds fire truck. My three year old son has been playing with this almost daily for nine months now. I cannot for the life of me understand what's so great about it. Maybe that's because my testosterone count is too low. It does have lights and sounds but he doesn't even seem to care about that. He just enjoys opening the door, playing with the ladders, moving the fireman figure around and periodically rolling it up and down our hallway. Hello, great toy. It's nice to meet you.

3. AirBake Cookie sheets. I'll never bake cookies on anything else ever again. Now I understand how people get cookies that are slightly browned on top but perfect on the bottom. Thank you, Martha Stewart, for explaining to me why regular cookie sheets suck.

4. Bath & Body works antibacterial foaming hand soap. From my secret Santa at work. I have Midnight Pomegranate scent and it's lovely. And it doesn’t just smell better than our bulk purchased vat of antibacterial dial. It also comes out light and foamy instead of Dial’s slow drip. You know, the slow drip that falls on the counter three seconds after you move your hand and then everyone just leaves it there to dry and then it's a sudsy mess to get off. I've never bought anything from Bath & Body Works because it always just seemed so fluffy and unnecessary. Now my lovely bottle of hand soap is almost empty and I'm wondering what's so wrong with fluffy and unnecessary.

5. Freschetta Brick Oven frozen pizza. I like to keep a frozen pizza in the freezer as a "just in case." You know. Just in case I don't feel like cooking and starving children have me surrounded. Just in case every other morsel of food in the house sprouts wings and flies away. Just in case someone holds a gun to my head and demands pizza in 16 minutes or less. This pizza is a very acceptable "just in case." Even my pizza loving husband has deemed it satisfactory.

How I spent my summer vacation

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 03:20:00 +0000

Back in July, my husband and I took our two offspring on a week long vacation. Among the highlights of our trip were my child turning into a fish who cannot live outside the water. We went swimming nearly every day and it still wasn't enough for her. Here she is happily floating:

And here she is fearlessly diving off the diving board:

She's pretty much life vest/floatie/safety device of any kind-free in the water these days. Makes her an easy kid to travel with. Her three year old brother, not so much. Sadly I let my husband convince me we didn't need to pack a life vest for him. Which may explain how he ended up playing on the side of the pool:

We're never leaving home without a life vest again. If that kid has to wear it on the plane and go traipsing through the airport in it, so be it. Not because I live a paranoid existence fretting that he'll surely drown without one. Although, quite frankly, that may or may not be a true statement because I'm pretty paranoid gal. But my main life vest fixation stems from wanting to be able to swim to the other side of the pool by myself occasionally. If my three year old's not in a life vest, I feel obligated to stay within arm's reach regardless of the fact that he barely has one toe dangling in the water. On the other hand, if my three year old has a life vest on, he'll survive the next great flood while I tread water hoping to find a broken door to float on until the life boats come. I appreciate knowing that.

Don't feel bad for the kid with no life vest though. What he lacked in freedom in the pool he more than made up for in slurpees:

I know. It doesn't get more summer than a slurpee on a hot day. Sigh.

Just to be sure we clocked enough time in our swimsuits on our trip, we also hit an amusement park with water rides. I'd make fun of it and tell you it sucked except it didn't. We did Sesame Place in Langhorne, PA and I highly recommend it. We even stayed at a hotel across the street and went for two full days. I think that's the most leisurely pace my husband has ever allowed me to set on a vacation. He's the same man convinced we can do Disney World in one day. I know. He's nuts. So are my babies. Here they are thumbing us a ride in front of our hotel:

Sesame Place was really nice. It's a whole theme park geared just for smaller kids. My five year old seemed to be the perfect age for it. Old enough to enjoy all of the rides but still young enough to be awed when she saw Abby Cadabby. Here she is participating in the Elmo's World show:

She's the one looking right towards the camera looking quite proud of herself. I love that finding us in the crowd increases that look of pride exponentially. I also love that she's still unquestionably, imperfectly five years old. For example, still capable of crying over the great injustice that is her life in the middle of my picture on the steps of 123 Sesame Place:

I'm pretty sure the great injustice of the moment was having to sit on a step. The horror.

They have lots of rides at Sesame Place. A roller coaster that manages to delight even adults without scaring small children. Things that go up. Things to climb. Things that splash water on you. Here I am squished into an Elmo angel fish:

Just to be sure we dropped a sufficient amount of cash while we were there, we did lunch with Big Bird and his friends. I made fun of how much we were paying for chicken nuggets and a cupcake when I made the reservation. Except then when we went I realized it was all you can eat, you don't have to find an empty table and all the characters come to your table so you can get a picture without waiting in line or having to stalk them all over the park. It was definitely an Oprah "A-ha" moment for me. And if all that's not enough, just imagine all the fun you'll have watching your three year old try to pretend he doesn't see the giant fuzzy orange girl at your table:

Late the second day it started raining. Here are my babies shivering under an umbrella while we wait for their father to go to the bathroom:

Since we were pretty much done by then anyway, my husband and I just laughed. It rained on us briefly at Niagara Falls last year, too. My husband thinks that's just our luck. I think it's just part of our charm. We even hit a show in the middle of the monsoon. Because that's how we roll. Here's the torrential downpour coming through the ceiling during the show:

There were giant puddles on either side of the stage and at one point the rain was hitting the roof so hard the audience could barely hear. I can't begin to tell you how hard we laughed at the ridiculousness of the moment.

There are no photos of our three year old's meltdown at the bottom of the water slide. There also aren't any photos of how exhausted I was on our early morning plane ride home. But it's all good. Because there also aren't any photos of us singing in the car on the long car rides or family snuggles in the hotel beds with the lights off telling each of our children about the day they were born. I'm pretty sure I'll remember those moments just fine despite that. They made every nickel we spent on that trip worth it.

And that's how I spent my summer vacation. I hope I spend them all like that. Happy just to be there with them.

A is for Awkward

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 18:31:00 +0000

Last week we attended the parent teacher meeting at the newest Kindergartner's school. This is the sort of activity my husband finds painful but that I live for. Met her soon to be First Grade teacher. Previewed the room.

Upon noticing that my soon to be First Grader would be sitting next to her five year old equivalent of an arch nemesis, I inwardly cringed.

As arch nemeses go, this kid's pretty tame. He's not mean or obnoxious or anything. Just doesn't seem to know how to play with other kids. Like maybe he spent the first 5 years of his life alone at home all day with his grandmother and never learned how to socialize with kids.

I'm sure he's very sweet. He just seems to frustrate the other kids. And by other kids, I mean all the other kids not just mine. I'm not even entirely sure what the issue is but there's been some mention of tattling and periodically throwing people under the bus. As an example, if people don't want to play with him, he'll chase them around the playground. And if they tell the teacher he was chasing them he'll say he wasn't. He also likes to promise he won't chase you again and then go right back to chasing you.

Not a big problem but not the newest First Grader's favorite person.

Over the summer, she saw him at a birthday party and he told her he was going to chase her again. Last week, when discussing the upcoming start of school with her she burst out crying over the potential chasing. I assured her we'd talk to the teacher and let her handle it and that if the teacher failed to address it we'd elevate the issue to the principal and/or the kid's mother. The newest First Grader felt better. No more tears. Back to nothing but excited to start the year.

Cut to the parent teacher meeting. Soon to be First Grader finds her seat. Arch nemesis' mom is standing at his desk and excitedly asks her to guess who she gets to sit next to. Chick clearly assumes my kid will be excited to sit next to her kid. My kid realizes who she will be sitting next to. My kid immediately looks disappointed and sighs. Arch nemesis' mom immediately looks confused. And I immediately look like a deer in the headlights trying to figure out how to spin my kid's reaction into anything other than, "Crap. I can't believe I'm stuck sitting next to your kid." It was awkward, people. Awkward.

I decided it was important to avoid eye contact in that situation. Too much eye contact and arch nemesis' mom would think she needed to delve into it further. We didn't need any delving. Nothing good would have come of it. The only thing worse than my kid's crestfallen reaction would have been her actually announcing to his mother that she doesn't want to sit next to her kid and that his existence in and of itself could potentially ruin her entire life. Bursting into tears probably wouldn't have been good either. Thankfully, she hadn't found her BFF's seat yet and locating it successfully distracted her. Talking to the teacher didn't hurt either.

But, sheesh. This school year hasn't even started and the playground politics are already wearing me out.

Operation Crappy Parents

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 02:48:00 +0000

The newest Kindergartner recently lost a second tooth. She'd lost her first one several months ago. The tooth fairy carted it off leaving a handful of coins in its place. A handful of coins might have been complicated if our house employed the "leave it under the pillow" strategy. Let me just share with you: We don't.

Teeth are small. Baby teeth are even smaller. I never realized how small until my kid placed her first tooth in my hand and I realized there was no way in hell the tooth fairy was going to be able to find it under a pillow in the dark without waking up the aforementioned kid. And our kid's bed was inside a pop up castle thing at the time, too. Many is the stuffed animal that slid down between that castle and the bed. What if the tooth fell between them? Imagine two grown adults pulling a bed out from the wall, pulling the pop up castle off and getting on their hands and knees with flashlights. Right. Suddenly, I understood why people buy those cutesy tooth fairy pillows.

So I convinced the newest Kindergartner that a bowl on the dresser next to her bed might work better. It really wasn't that hard. I mostly just suggested the tooth fairy wouldn't leave anything if she couldn't find the tooth. To thank her for making it easy to locate, the tooth fairy left 52 assorted coins in its place. Because the tooth fairy understands the importance of quantity over quality when distributing coins to a five year old even if the quantity consists primarily of pennies.

The newest Kindergartner delighted in announcing her windfall to her classmates the next day. And she's been waiting to lose another tooth ever since. Last week her mouth finally cooperated. And lo it was a great day in our house.

Too bad some evil troll in her class took it upon herself to tell my daughter that the tooth fairy is really your parents. The newest Kindergartner mentioned it to me over dinner wanting to know if that was true. I think the exact quote was, "Are you and Daddy the tooth fairy?" Well played.

I led off with, Huh? but quickly moved on to deflecting by asking who told her that. I figured it must have been some older kid shattering dreams in passing on the playground. Sadly, this revelation came courtesy of her best friend. So much for calling the kid a lying whore.

So then I hoped maybe I could undermine the credibility of the BFF's info by asking who told the BFF that. Except, apparently BFF got her info from her parents. So much for calling the kid's information source a lying whore. Very well played.

So, yeah. Fess up or lie. Tough call.

Except, confessing to the tooth fairy didn't seem like the only thing on the line there at the dinner table. Because this kid's bright. No tooth fairy is like three degrees of separation from no Santa. No way this kid won't connect the dots. No way her faith in Santa won't be undermined. But looking your kid in the eye and lying is hard core guilt inducing. Not that we've never lied before. Because let's be honest, sometimes claiming there's no more candy in the house is just plain easier. And my husband may or may not have claimed to have Santa's phone number last year when certain people were not successfully sharing with their brother.

But she's never asked us if he was real. So we've kind of lucked out not having to look her in the face and lie. But how do you give up on Santa? She's only five. Last Christmas she wrote her first real letter to Santa. It was so desperately cute I'm not sure I can live without at least one more. And she has a little brother to think about, people. Of course, Santa must live on. So I sucked it up and lied.

Having restored her faith in the tooth fairy, the newest Kindergartner was already mentally in the toy aisle spending her next windfall. She practically skipped to bed that night.

And that's when Operation Crappy Parents went into effect. That would be the operation that involved all of the grown adults in the house falling asleep while watching American Gangster. One second I'm trying to figure how much longer that movie can possibly drag on and the next I'm being woken up by a disappointed kid a foot from my face repeatedly asking why the tooth fairy didn't come. The 6 am on a Saturday early morning haze quickly cleared as the reality of our error hit home. My husband and I both sat up and said, "Oh."

It was early and I wasn't on my game so I tried suggesting the tooth fairy forgot. I know. Lame. And believe you me, it sounded lame at the time. Pretty much as soon as it came out of my mouth. But no need to worry. No one crafts a lie better than the guy with Santa's phone number. Big fat liar to the rescue. What's that you ask? What was the fix all sentence our kid hopefully never attempts to verify by comparing notes with her friends at school? Duh.

Everyone knows the tooth fairy only comes on Saturdays.

Another problem solved. Another proud parenting moment.

Books the Imaginary Book Club is finally getting around to posting about Part 3

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 13:23:00 +0000

Someone commented not long ago that they were amazed at the number of books I read given that I have two small children. In another life, one that didn't involve child proof door knob covers, I actually read several books a month. Now I mostly read in the bathroom, on planes or in lawn chairs while the kids play in the driveway. Some mothers scrapbook. Other mothers garden. I read. And I guess I should also confess that I've been told I read a little faster than average. Handy during grad school but not something you can list on a resume. So anyway, now you know. On to the mini book reviews:

Middlesex: Interesting. Really, really interesting. Avoided it for awhile because I wasn't sure I'd be interested in reading about a hermaphrodite but I was wrong. Kept me reading waiting for the big reveal and I periodically wished I was Greek or Turkish. Fascinating.

Love Walked In: Hated it. No really. Boring. Predictable. Couldn't wait for it to end. But moderately touching at the end.

Me Talk Pretty One Day: I bet David Sedaris makes great dinner table conversation. If I were the sort of girl that threw dinner parties, I'd invite him. If I was the sort of girl that went to dinner parties, I'd jockey for a seat next to him at the table. Which is to say, he's everything I'm not. I'm like the chick you'd barely remember to invite because I barely remember to return your phone calls or email you back. I'm also the sort of chick that usually ends up listening to other people's stories rather than telling my own. Except this was a book not a dinner party and I was mostly pretty "eh" on it. Interesting stories. His family fascinates me. And his sister Amy should have her own reality show.

Why Moms are Weird: Liked it. Not even sure why. I think I identified with some of the main characters issues. Primarily the fact that you can't fix other people's lives for them.

Finger Lickin' Fifteen: Ok. So I like Stephanie Plum. I really do. But I'm tired of her lack of appreciation for Joe. Seriously. By book 15, chick should be capable of happily calling you her boyfriend. And if she can't, she's just not that into you. I also like more inept bounty hunting and less Lula. I'm worried I'm starting to lose my mojo on this series.

A Wolf at the Table: My least favorite Augusten Burroughs book. Well written and interesting but sad without the humor of his other books. I didn't even feel the urge to hang out with him like I normally do. Eh.

Barefoot: Knew exactly what would happen. Never doubted it for a second. But I liked it. Well written fluffy summer reading. Made me think I need a beach house.

Nineteen Minutes: Liked it a lot except for the ending. It just seemed to come from left field. But it was definitely a page turner.

Here on Earth: Liked it a lot. Wonderfully well written. Interesting characters. Wasn't entirely sure how it would end.

Other installments of the Imaginary Book Club:
Books the Imaginary Book Club has read but failed to post about Part 2
Books the Imaginary Book Club has read but failed to post about Part 1
All the rest

5 seems pretty awesome

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 13:09:00 +0000

We recently took a week long vacation. That included the kids being out of school an entire week. First day back to school, the newest Kindergartener was hustling her brother through breakfast eager to get to school to tell her friends about her trip. We arrived a little later than normal and the rest of the class was already there. Upon appearing in the doorway, kids began excitedly whispering her name in awe just as if Santa had appeared with a sack of gifts on his back. Then, one after another every kid in the class ran over to hug her until they had formed a giant hugging circle of 20 kids with her in the middle.

Sigh.

No really. Feel your heart grow two sizes larger and then tilt your head to the side and sigh.

I subjected a room full of my peers to that story during a meeting later that morning at work. When I got to the end, my boss asked if that was a hint and then offered to organize a group hug so I wouldn't feel unloved. I said it loses something without the impromptu factor but that if she could locate 19 other people willing to pretend to be excited I wouldn't push them away. I'm a girl who knows you should take your cuddle where you can get it. And, quite frankly, I can't think of a better way to start your day than at the center of a giant group hugfest of people excited by nothing more than seeing your face.

Things that have been happening while I was neglecting my blog

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 00:02:00 +0000

The newest Kindergartner has now graduated from Kindergarten. Technically it happened two months ago. I kept intending to write about it but never seemed to get up the courage. I enjoy avoiding things I know will make me cry. And that one's a no brainer. There were caps and gowns, speeches about how quickly childhood flies by and even a video that included sappy music and pictures from throughout the year. Nothing like sappy music to help break you down completely in case you weren't already making your way through the six Kleenexes you shoved in your purse just in case.

During the program, the newest Kindergartner even recited a poem and read from a book. She and another boy were the only ones picked to read. Can you say, beaming with pride? Can you say, idiot in the crowd waving wildly at her? She was poised and perfect and I'm happy to report that I successfully held myself together throughout. By "held myself together" I mostly mean I didn't fall to the floor in a puddle. In bed later that night, there was significantly less holding it together. Monumental night. So many tears cried. Such a lovely girl. We felt lucky to be the idiots in the crowd waving wildly at her. And we still do. Feel lucky and wave wildly. And I've decided that's all I have to say about that.

And now that it's been said, I'm excited I don't have to avoid my blog anymore. It goes without saying my mother will be thrilled.

She will not, however, be thrilled that I'm going to move directly from talking about her granddaughter's momentous night to the man whore that is Jon Gosselin. Seriously. What the hell is that about? And it's not even that 22 year old girlfriend Hailey that killed me. Or the smoking. Or the earring. Or the second girlfriend. Or even all the fugly Ed Hardy he's wearing. No, the straw that broke this camel's back were the photos of him with all those Gucci shopping bags while he was in St. Tropez. Really? Does he have that much money now? Really?

Although some people player hated on the million dollar house, I kind of understood it. I mean, eight kids need space and space costs money and I bet tons of goofy fans were showing up on their doorstep at their old house. And at least a house is an investment. But, Gucci? W. T. H.

If those Gosselins have arrived at Gucci money, it's time to stop doing the show and make no mistake about it. We no longer sympathize that 8 kids are expensive and that'd we all probably sell a small sliver of their childhood to put food on the table and give them a college education. If you can afford Gucci, you can afford regular child care. And more child care. And maids. And cooks. And get the hell off my television already. I even deleted it from my DVR. Again. So there. Remember Kate yelling at Jon about checking out without using the Home Depot coupon. Sort of makes you think she was even more annoying than you originally though doesn't it? Feel, ya.

For anymore concerned that deleting Jon & Kate Plus Eight from my DVR will leave my DVR devoid of crappy reality, fear not. I replaced it with Toddler & Tiaras like any good crappy reality television fan. I'd say it's the most disturbing reality show I've ever seen but then I'd have to lie and tell you I've never seen 16 & Pregnant. But that's disturbing in a whole other way. Toddlers and Tiaras gives me a peek into a world it's unlikely I'll ever experience or understand. I periodically think the parents are insane and I routinely wonder what the allure of that world is. But every time I watch 16 & Pregnant I think it's the best birth control I've ever seen. 8 months pregnant at the prom is pretty sobering. So was the complete sob fest when the kids gave up the baby for adoption because they knew their life was crappy. Forget handing out condoms in health class. Just start showing episodes in homeroom starting in sixth grade. Holla.

Just when I think I'm out they pull me back in

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Thu, 28 May 2009 21:12:00 +0000

I wish I could pretend I didn't watch the Jon & Kate Plus 8 season premiere. Sadly, my incurable fascination and general affection for them and their kids sucked me right in.

I used to love the show. Seriously loved. I even let my two small kids watch it with me. Good clean entertainment for them. And watching them weather the chaos of their house always made me think my life was more doable.

I didn't give up watching the show because I didn't like them anymore. I just got tired of watching the extended infomercial for all the free crap they were getting. You know, Here's the awesome 5 star hotel we stayed at in San Diego that's located on such and such street and you can make reservations with them by calling this number and, gee, it was just so nice of them to invite us. And oh, yeah, thanks for the free tickets tickets to Legoland and the backstage tour at the zoo and the box seats to the baseball game and the remote controlled cars and the Fischer Price playhouses and the teeth bleaching and the hair transplants and the giant wads of cash everyone shoves in our wallet every time we breathe.

I didn't begrudge them any of the free stuff. It just didn't interest me to watch. The kids and the interaction and the daily grind of parenting without your head exploding is what I liked. But I guess I still cared about them. Because I felt like I'd been in their living room and knew them. I'm also so deluded I thought they were a happy family. So anyway, I guess I watched the season premier hoping they'd give us some hope that despite difficult times they're going to work through their problems and get through this. Because they're a family and they're in this together like stupid intro used to say. Wrong.

Instead we got to listen to Kate repeatedly complain about the paparazzi. Jon's come right out and said he doesn't really want to do the show anymore. It feels like he's sort of in it against his will at this point so I guess I'm willing to let him complain a little bit about them stalking him. But I'm not interested in listening to Kate complain even for a second. She never complains about the freebies, the opportunities to write books or the money. The price tag that comes with those things is the media attention. I just don't feel sorry for her. I do however feel sorry for the kids. Because their mother worries about them mentioning the paparazzi at school because that would be weird. And yet, it's not weird that their trip to Party City was videotaped and everyone was clearly dressed up to make a big event out of it. I can't figure out why one is more weird than the other.

I felt very, very sad at the end of the show. Sad for a variety of reasons.

First, I thought it was clear Kate's the one that's still interested in doing the show. She was the one discussing possible divorce and she's the one crying and discussing the nature of their problems. Jon mostly just apologized and discussed the birthday party.

Second, I hope they aren't trying to ease us into the post divorce version of the show. No way the show keeps going after a divorce. Kate is not nearly as interesting as she thinks she is. Her laugh has become an annoying cackle and I'm starting to question her parenting decisions. I like Jon. I've always liked Jon. He seems nice and normal. In the past when Kate would say stupid things like let's take the kids to a bakery to make cupcakes but not let them eat the cupcakes because they'd get dirty, Jon was the voice of reason saying that makes no sense.

Third, as I've mentioned, I believe Aunt Jodi. Believing Aunt Jodi means I don't view Kate as the one that's been done wrong. Yeah, she's been publicly humiliated. But if you were arrogant enough to think you could continue the show pretending to still be a happy family, I don't feel bad that you got caught. Maybe you should just be honest. But even if I didn't believe Aunt Jodi, I think I'd still sort of stick up for Jon. Mostly because Kate appears intent on doing what she wants regardless of what he wants. He seems so trapped. And he's trapped at home all day with 8 kids no less. I don't care that Kate felt the need to tell us he has help with kids. When one parent travels, it puts a heavy burden on the other parent. Even with help. Even if the nanny's great. I feel for Jon. I also feel for him because I think your wife shouldn't belittle you. Especially not on television. Even after I stopped watching the show several months ago, I'd still see periodic clips of the show on The Soup where Jon became a running joke for having a wenchy wife that liked to point out all his grammatical errors. That makes me sad. The world is full of plenty of people to tear you down. Your spouse shouldn't be one of them.

Fourth, if her frequent travel is causing stress in her marriage, I don't understand why she doesn't just choose to stay home more. I'm not saying she has to give up her job. I'm just saying it's a choice she's making and she should own it instead of acting like she has to travel. They are not financially strapped for cash. They could afford to let her scale back.

Fifth, Alexis is my favorite one of the kids. No, Aaden. Wait, maybe Joel. No, definitely Alexis.

Sixth, I'm starting to think I need to stop having a favorite kid because maybe if everyone stopped having a favorite kid they'd stop watching the show and if everyone stopped watching the show they'd cancel it and maybe them canceling the show would be the right thing to do for everyone including my favorite kids.

Nobody tell her mother I let them share a water bottle

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Fri, 22 May 2009 03:21:00 +0000

I joined the newest Kindergartener and her class on a field trip to the zoo this week. I'll confess my memories of field trips are vague at best but I don't recall there being quite so many parents along for the ride. I think this is the sort of problem teachers must love to have but it seemed a little odd that only 3 kids out of 17 didn't have at least one parent present. I say "at least one" because 2 kids actually had both parents there. Another kid had a parent and an aunt there.

And of the kids with parents there, six of them didn't even ride in the van with the class either. They rode to the zoo with their parents instead. The teacher asked me if the newest Kindergartner would be riding in the van and I was all, Duh. If she doesn't ride in the van, she doesn't have a van color to talk about later over dinner. Make way for my kid on the van, people.

Once at the zoo, everyone pretty much headed off in different directions. I guess in my head I thought we were going to traipse around in one big mob. That's the sort of stupid simplistic crap I often conjure up in my pea brain. In reality, there were some small clusters of parents and kids but it was tough to stay together when five year olds have such a wide range of attention spans that vary even more depending on the animal they're looking at.

On top of that, I was assigned one of the parentless kids and I quickly gave up attempting to stay with anyone else opting instead to focus on not losing someone else's baby.

I considered it a successful day when I delivered the parentless kid back to the school van in one piece. I'm hoping she tells her mother about all the educational discussions we had about the different animals and how I always made sure she washed her hands after we touched the animals. On the other hand, I'm hoping she doesn't tell her mother about how I offered to take her to the hospital for stitches everytime she showed me the invisible scrape on her knee she periodically claimed impaired her ability to walk when she was tired of walking. It'd also be sort of awesome if she skipped the part about how I let her and the newest Kindergartener share the same water bottle. I know. The germs! The horror! But it was hot and the kid was thirsty and bottles of water cost $4. But again, it'd be awesome if she could just leave that out of her play by play retelling of her day.

I did not, however, leave it out of the play by play I subjected my husband that night. The one that included my thoughtful analysis about the importance of the van ride. It may or may not have gone along the lines of, "If people are going to drive their own cars and tour the zoo separately, I start to think maybe we should all just take our kids to the zoo on Saturday." Seriously, why would you want to skip the van ride? Although, from me to you, try to get a seat in the back of the van. Getting stuck sitting directly behind your kid's teacher limits your ability to talk about her. Not that I'd have anything I'd want to talk about like say an annoying Indian headband project she didn't think we got right the first time and suggested we do again. I'm just saying the back of the van would be a better place to sit if you did.

Signs that I am stupid

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sat, 16 May 2009 14:46:00 +0000

1. I was actually kind of surprised by the whole Jon & Kate Plus 8 photos with another woman/potential divorce crap. Although I'd given up watching the show several months ago after deciding all the freebie talk was too much for me, my jaw still sort of fell open when I saw the photos of Jon and some chick. Then, the People magazine cover story about Kate amazed me too. But it wasn't until I watched the interview with Uncle Kevin and Aunt Jodi that I decided it was all true. You know, sweet and kind Aunt Jodi that went to Oprah with them and lived around the corner and watched all the little kids on Friday mornings just to give Kate a break. She also once gave the little kids gum which Kate and Jon seemed to consider the stupidest decision ever made except I'm pretty sure I'd have let them have the gum too so whatever. I'm also the sort of person that would never take 8 kids to the Crayola factory and not let them use the markers so what do I know. Anyway, I totally believe Aunt Jodi. I do. And then it all made me sad. They just renewed their wedding vows! What the hell.

2. I googled "Jon & Kate Plus 8 dad girlfriend photos."

3. I don't plan to watch I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out of Here but I cannot tell a lie. I may have to tune in occasionally if Spencer has to lay in a box of rats or something.

4. I just do not enjoy Adam Lambert as much as other people appear to. I'm not saying he's not talented. I'm just saying I'm not into him. Maybe it's the eye liner. Maybe it's that he comes across more Broadway than rock star. But I like Danny better.

5. I was sort of bummed Coach didn't win immunity on Survivor. I find him just as annoying and self absorbed as the next person but he's also oddly fascinating in that he doesn't seem to register how other people see him. And, come on, how funny would it have been to force the other people to live with him longer?

6. I've been watching Daisy of Love. I know. Enough said.

Books the Imaginary Book Club has read but failed to post about: Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sat, 02 May 2009 17:20:00 +0000

1. A Three Dog Life: Quiet thumbs up. But not an easy book to read. The husband has a traumatic brain injury. He doesn't die but he's never the same. And by "never the same" I mean he can't live at home or take care of himself. But his wife finds a way to still have a life with him. Made me wonder if I'd be able to do that. I'd like to think I would. I'd like to think my husband would. But, geez, is it hard to think about.

2. Mad Dash: Eh. I tried it because it was written by Patricia Gaffney. During my historical romance reading years, I read a book by her I liked so much I still remember it to this day. Cute and funny but romantic. I didn't like any of her other romance novels though. But for the record, that one's good.

3. The Pact: I didn't like the reasoning for the pact. I also suspected the reasoning early on. But it was still well written. Also a quick read.

4. The Honk and Holler Opening Soon: Slight thumbs up. Sweet but not great. I think it's charming when people can create a family for themselves out of otherwise strangers. But why do all the characters in Billie Letts' books have to have such funky names? Isn't anyone in Oklahoma named Joe or John?

5. Change of Heart: A guy on death row that wants to donate his heart to a little girl after he gets the death penalty. Thumbs up. Interesting characters and it kept me reading to find out what was going to happen next.

6. Mommy Tracked: Hated it. No really. Boring, predictable, and cliche characters.

7. While I Was Gone: Thumbs up. Such a well written portrait of a marriage. I felt like I'd sat at their kitchen table and watched them finish each other's sentences. The whole thing about her friends from her past didn't particularly interest me but the ending did.

8. Dry: About the author getting sober. It's not for everyone. For example, my husband would hate it. So would my mother. But I liked it. I'm not really sure why. I think I just like him and wish we could be friends.

9. Harvesting the Heart: My thumbs are neither up nor down on it. Either I'm burning out on Jodi Picoult or this was just an "Eh" book. It's about a woman that leaves her 3 month old baby to essentially soul search. That seems like an interesting plot but, eh. I didn't really sympathize with her because she just seemed to lack any self awareness. But I didn't really sympathize with the husband either because he just seemed so self absorbed. Eh.

10. The Perks of Being a Wallflower: Liked it. It's offbeat. The entire book is a series of letters written by a freshman in high school and you don't even know who he's writing to. But it really rings true like it was written by a teenager. Made me remember stupid things I used to write in my diary back in high school. You know. Like stupid drawn out crap about so and so talking to so and so and what my paranoid pea brain read into what they may or may not have said. Many was the diary entry I wrote analyzing someone walking by and innocently saying "Hello." I also enjoyed when the girls he knows all gave each other earrings for Christmas. I remember the careful selection process that went into selecting the right crappy fake gold earrings for each of my friends. The better the friend the better the earrings. "Better" mostly meaning it would take them longer to chip and turn green.

Other installments of the Imaginary Book Club:
Books the Imaginary Book Club has read but failed to post about Part 1
All the rest

The club awaits his return

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 00:23:00 +0000

My husband has been out of town for a week and a half. I have grown increasingly tired ever since. I could blame myself for not going to bed earlier, letting little things ride my nerves and failing to medicate myself heavily enough to sleep through some of the nighttime activities. But really, as if. My children and the three annoying dogs that dwell in my house are clearly to blame.

Highlights from the last week and a half include being held hostage by my children who now require the hall light on and every bedroom door open in order to even close their eyelids. And the night the dogs woke me every hour on the hour was pretty awesome, too.

My husband made the mistake of asking me repeatedly every day to recite for him the contents of our incoming mail. He couldn't seem to fathom a grown woman tossing mail on the counter and forgetting about it for days on end. I can't seem to fathom why I have to explain the frenzy that ensues from 5-7 pm in our house everyday. He lives here. He's familiar with the horrors that can take place.

Needy kids. Frantic dogs. Starving beasts of all shapes and sizes. Crap the dogs have shredded that needs to be cleaned up. People running out of clean underwear. Notes from teachers to read. Backpacks to pack. Lost shoes. Lost blankies. Lost patience. Death would have been preferable to the night we ran out of toothpaste and no one noticed until bed time. I realize strawberry flavored toothpaste is significantly tastier than plain old Colgate but despondent weeping on floor still seemed like a bit much.

Evenings are challenging with two parents on the job. One parent and you're mostly just hoping to get through it without anyone writing on your 400 thread count pillow cases with a black marker. Which, by the way, I'm a complete failure at. I like to tell myself the marker will come out in the laundry because it was dry erase not permanent marker. I also like to remind myself that it wasn't a top tier pillow case in the hierarchy that is my linen closet. That hierarchy begins at the top with pillow cases that make my day better and no one else is allowed to use, pillow cases I'm willing to sleep on, pillow cases for the lesser used pillows on our bed and finally pillow cases that are tolerable backups in the event someone throws up on every other pillow case we own. My husband's pillows typically get second tier pillow cases. Don't bother feeling sorry for him. Dude could not identify the different tiers if his life depended on it. And he was sleeping on 180 thread count sandpaper when I met him.

Anyhoo. Besides expecting daily incoming mail recitations, my husband has also succumbed to the Swine Flu paranoia. This included trying to convince me to not leave the house at one point and several symptoms he felt coming on. I have trouble taking him seriously though. Not because I don't take Swine Flu seriously but because my husband once told me his head was itchy despite the fact that he was four states away and nowhere near our lice ridden kids.

I guess he doesn't realize that when he goes out of town for more than three days sitting at my desk at work is practically like being on vacation. For example, I can't recall the last time someone in my office cried for 20 minutes over three drops of water on their shirt. The same cannot be said about my dining room tonight. Me thinks a certain five year old can't wait for her Daddy to come home. Join the club, kid.

Allow me to "clarify"

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sun, 19 Apr 2009 19:39:00 +0000

Normally, when I've failed to blog for weeks on end it is an email or phone call from my BFF juliebear that reminds me that inquiring minds want to know if I'm still breathing. Imagine my surprise this time when it was an email from a blog reader. And one I don't even know in real life. That's like nice squared.

Carosgram just wanted to let me know she was thinking of me and hoping everything was okay. She also mentioned that she missed reading my writing and that's what made me decide to have her likeness tattooed on my puny left bicep to show to people who think blogging is an odd hobby. And she doesn't even have a link I can share. No blog of her own to send you to. She's just anonymously sweet. Which makes her email just that much nicer. It also means that the tattoo likeness will be insufficient thanks and that I'm going to need to cosign to refinance her mortgage or something. It also kinda sorta makes me want to be a better blogger. Which is all kinds of movie of the week but whatever. It was really nice of her to think of me. And who hasn't had a blog they read sit dormant for weeks and you start wonder what's the haps. I know I have. So, yeah, for people that take the time to email instead of lazy chickens like me that just wonder!

I'd like to report that I've been busy doing exciting things while I was neglecting my blog and it's thoughtful readers. Except then I'd have to lie and make some crap up because truth be told it's mostly been work and laundry. Because the downside of your employer sending you to two weeks of training is that your employer typically doesn't find someone to do your job while you're gone. They just let your work stack up until you get back instead. Super!

The control freak inside my head thinks that's okay because then it won't get done wrong but the realist in my soul thinks at least it would be done instead of people emailing me repeatedly asking me when it will be done and why it's not done already and then maybe copying in everyone under the sun asking what the hold up is while pretending they didn't talk to you the day before and had the entire situation explained to them in detail. Not that I've experienced that or anything. Definitely not. But I'm sure it's very annoying. And I'm sure it would require a phone call to that person to give them the what for and put them in their place. You know to "clarify" things.

"Clarify" is business code for "what the hell are you talking about?" Because "I haven't heard from her in 10 days" makes me wonder who the hell I spoke to on the phone twice this week. And copying in my chain of command to try to make me look bad makes me think you've mistaken me for a doormat and that I better "clarify" with you who you are dealing with. It also makes me think everyone's chain of command needs to be copied in when I put you on friendly, professional blast in my reply. Not that I'm the sort to put someone on friendly, professional blast. I'm just saying, if I was going to put someone on blast in email, it would definitely be friendly and professional. Ah, the joy of passive aggressive office politics! For my next office lingo lesson I will be explaining the many uses for the word "prioritize" and how every single one of them will make you want to stab someone in the face. Good times!

I almost took it in the bathroom with me

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 01:34:00 +0000

I'm back. Back from two weeks of training my employer insisted I needed. I'd like to pretend the training was awful and rant about what a waste of time it was but overall it was pretty good and I guess it's sort of nice to be valued enough by your employer that they'd invest in training you. I know. That's so party line it makes me want to gag. But whatever. On to more important things, like why the hell that training facility/psuedo-hotel didn't have bathtubs. The place was clearly designed by a man. Seriously. There's just no way a woman would think that was a good idea.

On top of the ban on bathtubs, the rooms were the size of dorm rooms. No really. The dresser drawers hit the bed if you pulled them out all the way. And there literally wasn't enough floor space to lay my suitcase open on. I had to wrestle all 63 pounds of it up on the bed to unpack.

And just in case you didn't immediately catch the dorm vibe in your room, they went ahead and put little gathering lounge type areas outside the rooms too. You know, the same area your RA had the whole third floor gather during freshman year to remind everyone to clean the hair out of the drain after you shower and stop throwing people's clean laundry on the floor when you can't find an empty dryer in the laundry room.

Supposedly the dorm vibe was intended to get trainees to not spend all their time in their room. Some crap about the importance of networking with fellow trainees. Right. Whatever.

On the bright side, what my accommodations lacked in bathtubs it more than made up for in silence. For example, there's a definite shortage of screaming children in that place. And no whining dogs scratching at the door at 3 am. The horror. The horror of a good night's rest. Boo-yeah.

Back at the homestead with small children shadowing my every move, I miss the silence a little. But only a teeny tiny little bit. Because silence doesn't have kissable chubby cheeks or tell goofy knock knock jokes. It also doesn't wander into the kitchen while you're making dinner to hug your leg and tell you it loves you.

To celebrate my return, I did five loads of laundry, waded out of a 300 hundred email backlog at work and bought a laptop. Go, me! DVR, Ipod, Blackberry, Netflix, Twitter and now a laptop. I feel so my modern! I can't believe it never occurred to me that the only thing better than surfing the net is surfing the net from bed while watching DVR'd crappy reality shows. Holla!

Earlier, I had to use the bathroom and, I cannot tell a lie, it crossed my mind for two seconds that maybe I should just carry the laptop in there with me. I know. And people think Blackberry's are addictive. Try having the world at your fingertips from the comfort of your pillow top bed! The possibilities are endless. And by possibilities I think we all know I mean my ability to flush hours of my life down the toilet. Life is good!

The first sign that my relaxing "vacation" might not go the way I planned

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 00:50:00 +0000

When I opened the bathroom door in my shoe box sized hotel room and discovered there was no bathtub. None of the rooms have one. Believe you me, I asked. I don't want to get all melodramatic and tell you this is a sign of the Apocalypse but what the hell, people. I had plans. I even packed bubble bath. Dude.

Fifty bucks says he has to call me at least 4 times to help him find stuff around the house

noreply@blogger.com (a happier girl) — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 04:20:00 +0000

I mentioned several months ago that I like to dodge work related travel because I don't like to leave my kids. I'm pretty sure I should have knocked on wood because, lo and behold, my employer informed me recently that I won't be avoiding a certain 2 week training course anymore. Then my employer scheduled me to hit the road next week. Facing two weeks alone with the children, my husband actually sounded mildly depressed when telling me how much he's going to miss me. If absence really does make the heart grow fonder, I expect that man to have my face tattooed on his forehead and a shrine erected in my honor by the time I get back.

My strategy for mentally preparing to leave my babies for two weeks has primarily been to never think about it. Thinking about = mother guilt, premature separation anxiety and general fretting. Not thinking about it = way better.

And not thinking about it actually hasn't been that hard because work has been really hectic. So hectic I've actually caught myself fretting about the train I have powering along at work getting derailed if I'm not there to oversee its every little chug, chug, chug. I know. That makes me type A in the worst way. Tell me about it. Maybe sometime I'll tell you about how when other people are in charge of something and won't listen to my better ideas it makes me want to bang my head on the table and fling daggers at their forehead. Or something like that. Eh.

Several people have asked me who's going to take care of my kids while I'm gone. I guess they think my husband got sucked into outer space. I'm all, Duh. Then I'm all, Man, are my kids going to be late for everything and completely mismatched for the next two weeks. In hopes of avoiding any major mishaps, I briefed the newest Kindergartner tonight on the calendar of events for the next two weeks including important things like, "Tell Daddy to wash your hair that night because they're taking spring pictures the next day at school."

While work related training is still considered work in the sense that you get paid to sit on your butt while you're there, the truth is it's practically a two week vacation at a spa for me. Nice hotel. No cooking or cleaning. No screaming children or annoying dogs to wake you up. Yup. Vacation. I plan to take hot bubble baths, paint my toe nails, and generally goof off every night. I hear there are outlet malls in the vicinity of the training center too. Me and my credit card plan to find out. Holla.

Besides missing the sight of my babies' faces, I will also be in serious DVR withdrawal. For example, what if I don't get back from dinner Monday night in time to catch all of The Bachelor finale. And what the hell am I supposed to do during commercial if I can't fast forward? I can't very well channel surf. What if I miss crazy Deanna finally coming back to jack around with Jason's emotions? Also, what if I miss the big excitement on the After the Rose show? Speaking of which, what's that about? Seriously, what could possibly be such a big deal they can't have a live audience?

One of my friends is convinced it's because he picks Deanna. Dude's a twit but tell me he's not that big a twit. Right? Maybe? Someone else thinks he's going to propose to Melissa and then change his mind and switch to Molly during the After the Rose show. I think that would actually be worse than the dude that decided not to pick either girl. Because, really, couldn't we all sort of understand that guy deciding that maybe just maybe a stupid reality dating show didn't produce a girl he really wanted to be with after a mere six weeks? But just swapping girls is lame. How much could you really love either of them if you can do that?

I know. You can't believe I care this much about such a stupid show. Join the club. I'm the president.

Anyway, I'm going DVR-less for two weeks is my point. Hopefully not internet-less though. Because I have my new best friend, Blackberry, and I hear I'll have access to some crazy thing called "a computer lab." I know! It'll be like reliving my freshman year of college! Well, as long as there are creepy guys in there staying up all night playing online Dungeons and Dragons style role playing games. Because, nothing says college to me like the dude that skips his calculus final because he got ambushed by a band of orcs and he had to raise 500 gold to get his poisoned wizard healed.

But just in case my internet access isn't great, I decided to be a total lemming and join Twitter. I even added it to my sidebar under the Flickr pictures. Now I can't wait to get started flushing extra time down the toilet everyday! Yeah! Mid meeting twittering here I come!