I'm On CRIBS!!!!!!!!

OK, I'm not exactly on Cribs. I am a guest poster over at Speaking From the Crib. This is a tremendous honor for me because this is one of my favorite blogs. When I got the e-mail asking me to do it, I was all "Am I being punked?" and she was all "No for reals. Do you wanna do it?" And I was all "Of course I wanna do it, as long as you want me to do it." And she was all "Of course I want you to do it, otherwise I wouldn't have asked you. Are you mental or something?" And I was all " Mental? Hells yeah!" And she was all "Good, then you can post next week. As soon as you take your meds, write me a post." And I did.

Editor's note: This conversation was paraphrased with absolutely no respect for accuracy because that's how I roll (meds 0r not).

So click on the link above or the the cute little button with the behbe in the sidebar to see the post and while you're there, check her out and show her some bloggy love - read, comment, laugh, follow. This will be your natural course of events, I promise because she is a super funny lady! Anyone willing to shove not one but two fingers up her nose for a profile picture test shot has made a hard-core commitment to funny. I can respect that, even while I'm busy laughing my ass off. So go. Scamper off to the crib and have a party. I'll be right behind you with an ice cold six pack and some choice junk food. . . right after I take my meds.

Diary is Sticking It Supah Style

Because some of my favorite blogs are doing this sticky note thing and seem to be having so much fun with it, I decided to try. These are a challenge for your girl Diary, who as you have probably already determined, tends to be pretty verbose. I gave it the old college try. Here goes:

Well, that was fun and easy. I highly recommend checking out Supah Mommy for the deets. And a special thanks to Kys and Chief and Erin for making this look like so much fun in their previous posts, that I had to be a lemming. Thanks y'all!

Saturday Recap

It's Saturday night, I just got back from seeing the Lion King on Broadway and I am going to open up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and tell you a couple of tidbits about my day. Oh, my god, the first sip was HEAVEN. If you have not tried CloudyBay Sauvignon Blanc, I will weep winey (or is that wino) tears until you do. Sip number two was glorious as well.

OK, so first off, I need to thank the SemiHippySingleMum for the Lovely Blog Award that you see above. And Nancy at If Evolution Really Works for the I Love Your Blog award. And Noelle at Elastic Waistbands and Comfortable Shoes (great name, right?) for the Lemonade award. Thank you ladies. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Please stop by and visit these wonderful ladies today! I in turn, offer these awards to all of you darling bloggies that are on my blogroll. Please grab the awards at your leisure.

Being that I am nerdtastically numbers oriented (bullshit cough), I thought that I would give you a couple of statistics from my trip into New York today -

• Number of people that panhandled me for money: 2



• Number of people in Penn Station wearing Metallica tee shirts - 17 (then I stopped counting when I realized that there was a Metallica concert at the Garden)



• Number of people that audibly passed gas in my general vicinity in Penn Station - 3



• Number of people that silently passed gas in my general vicinity in Penn Station - Who the F knows, the whole place smells like a fart



• Number of times my daughter complained because we had to wait on a line - 23



• Number of texts I got from my son while he was at the movies about how *funny the movie 2012 was - 2



• Number of times I was insulted by a rude waiter - 1 (lower than the NYC average)



• Number of times I cried watching the Lion King - 1 (the opening of the play is very beautiful and moving)



• Number of times we got yelled at for having our "Electronic Devices" out in the open before the play started - 3

• Number of times we gave a shit - 0



• Number of tweets that I managed to get out while at the Minskioff Theater - 0 (they have a lead shield in the roof to prevent all such enjoyment while waiting for the play to start)



• Number of puddles my daughter failed to avoid while walking back to Penn Station in the rain because there was not a cab to be had from 46th street to 34th street- All of them



• Number of glasses of wine that I have enjoyed while writing this post - 2.5

*Ok, I know nothing about this movie, but I am pretty sure that it's not a comedy. What happened to you John Cusack? You used to be edgy and cool and a little nerdy (but in a good way). I swooned for your cool underachieving Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything. I laughed at your nerdtastic Bryce in Sixteen Candles. I was thoroughly amused by your angsty Woody Allen impression in Bullets Over Broadway. And you committed the coolest movie character of all time (next to Jules in Pulp Fiction) to celluloid as Martin Blank in Grosse Point Blank. How in god's name did you allow yourself to be in a whistling, tap dancing, flaming turd of a disaster movie (just a guess) like 2012? I am going to go watch Say Anything and cry.

That's it for tonight. Short and sweet. I am tired and I have all of your blog postings that I missed today, to read and comment on. I'll be back in a day or two with a meatier post. Have a fabulous weekend and a glass of Cloudy Bay!

It's the Great Blue Heron Charlie Brown

This morning as I was doing my pre-dawn blog reading, I saw something whoosh past my second story office window in the dim, gray morning light. It seemed to me like it might have been a piece of paper or garbage, though what that was doing falling out of the sky, I couldn't say. Not always sharply aware or even interested in what goes on outside of my little bubble, I ignored it.

I sat at my desk and hopped from blog to blog, reading and commenting, reading and commenting until again, there was movement in the yard. This time the movement was not fleeting, it was consistent and spoke clearly of a live presence out there. Finally distracted enough to look away from what I was doing, I saw an immense grey bird, walking the edge of my pool. I did a triple take and rubbed my eyes, because I could not believe the size and shape of this creature. It had long legs with webbed feet like a duck, a long goose-like body with compact wings and a neck that had to be at least 18" long. Atop his neck, a tiny head with a long bill.

As he walked gently along the pool ledge, his head slowly bobbed atop his craning neck. Then he turned his head and body and faced the house, looking directly at me looking at him. I tried to wake my husband to get him to look at this alien creature in our backyard, but he and the worthless dog were uninterested in our visitor. HELLO? There is an EFFING THREE FOOT TALL BIRD walking along the ledge of your pool! You might want to drag your lazy asses out of bed to take a look. Nothing. Being that they weren't going to get up and look at him, I decided to grab the camera and try to get a picture.


I ran down stairs and found our camera on the counter in the kitchen. I looked out the kitchen window and saw that he had gotten off the pool and had gone to the top of the hill. Just the perfect location for me to quietly sneak a picture out of the sliders in the den. Just as I got to the sliding doors, he drew up his long legs and took flight. He needed a minimum of flaps once he stretched out his wings and what I estimate to be at least 25 pounds of bird was gone, just like that.

Knowing that there are wetlands about 4 miles away, I googled for wildlife at the local beach and sure enough, there he was - The Great Blue Heron. I think it was my first time seeing one. It was certainly the first time seeing one in my backyard. There is something magical about seeing a bird or animal misplaced in an environment like your backyard. You almost have to ask yourself - Did I really see that? I hadn't had my first cup of coffee yet, so I guess I can't be sure. But one thing that I am certain of, I will never ignore a piece of paper flying past my window again.

I Have the Same One Only Bigger, Better, Newer, Faster and Smarter

I'm a pretty patient person. Really I am. Not prone to princess and the pea fuss-pot behavior or petty grievances, I let a whole lot of things go. But there is a woman who is working my last nerve so hard, that I might blow my kind (bats lashes innocently) facade and give her a piece of the imbroglio of bile that she creates in my stomach.

Here's how the story goes -

I work with a lovely man that I'll call Jake Ryan. That's not his real name, but since Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles was such a hotness monster, we'll use that name. Jake is a very smart and competent man at his job. He is a model employee, constantly furthering his education and making better every project that he lends his technical abilities to. To top it all off, he's a lovely, humble person, who is a true pleasure to work with. Sounds like a dream, right? So what could the problem be? His wife.

His wife and I are vague acquaintances. We know a couple of the same people and have been thrown together at events and such. When I first met her, I went out of my way to tell her what a lovely and talented person her husband was and to complement his accomplishments and the value he adds on the job. You would think that would suffice on the topic, right? In my opinion, all that was necessary in that scenario was to be gracious, say thank you and move on. Not this one. From that moment and every moment since that she has been thrust upon me (totally unwillingly, mind you), she has monopolized the conversation, basically reciting his resume in a unbearable brag fest. I don't know what she is trying to prove, but I am clearly well aware of his abilities, I have stated as much. This bitch is selling hard, way past the close.

I have tried very hard to understand what she is about. From what I can tell, she does not work, volunteer or have any kind of life outside of this man, so I suppose she is living vicariously through his achievements. I of course feel terribly sorry for what I perceive to be her own personal emptiness. However, I have heard enough. My patience is all but gone and my veneer of politeness is worn to a see-through state. It is all I can do to keep from stopping her mid-sentence and reciting his accomplishments to her. I've heard them umpteen times, I can quote them chapter and verse.

I guess what I am really wrestling with here is the bragging aspect of it. It makes me so uncomfortable, I just want to crawl out of my skin. It has never been something that I have been able to tolerate. Maybe I need take a good long look at what it is in my history that makes me so uncomfortable with people who engage in this behavior. Or maybe I need to gag her with a dirty sweat sock and some duct tape. Not really sure on this one.

Well, Scrippity Scrappity, I Do Declare.

Hip hip hooray for awards! I have been given an Honest Scrap award from Angel over at Singedwingedangel. Well thank ya! Thank ya very much. The rules of this here award are that I have to tell you ten honest things about myself and pass the award to seven other bloggers. Just to shake this up a little and make it fun, I decided that I would share ten things that I honestly hate:

1) Fish - If it has fins and gills, I'm out. I have made many valiant attempts to try different kinds over the years, but I just can't do it. Sorry to all you pescatarians out there.

2) Coconut - Almond Joy and Mounds are dang near religious experiences for some. For me, it's like chewing chocolate covered cardboard. As a matter of fact, I'd tuck into a shirt box before I'd tuck into shredded coconut. Now, fresh coconut, coconut milk and coconut rum different stories. I like them. They all contribute to splendid cocktails.

3) Nosiness - People who ask inappropriate questions and get all up in my business. I will share information with them as I see fit. If I want you to know my salary, how much I paid for my house or how often I get busy, I'd tell you (Those that know me well are snickering because they know that hell would freeze over before I'd divulge any of that information).

4) Ego trippin, power hungry PTA mothers - This position goes to the head of a certain type of woman and she becomes drunk with (perceived) power and completely unbearable. They're not all like this, but MANY are and it makes me completely unhinged. I avoid at all costs.

5) My memory - It sucks. It lets me down on a regular basis and as I hang out in the middle aged years, seems to get worse. I blog as much for the written memories as for the fun of it.

6) "Not my kid" mothers and fathers - Parents who think their child can do no wrong and blame all of the negative things that happen on their friends. Wake up. Shake the cobwebs out and take a good look at what is happening around you.

7) R.E.M and John Cougar Mellonhead, uh Mellencamp - I don't hate a lot of music. There is something about these two bands that makes me want to chew tinfoil rather than listen to them. I know. I know. You love them. You have all their CDs and concert tee shirts. I. Just. Can't.

8) Ironing, sewing, putting laundry away - Look up the word drudgery and you will find these three activities. And I am dangerous with an iron. I am the only person I know that irons in more wrinkles than she removes. I'd rather be a rumpled mess than fight with Suzy Homemaker's weapon of choice.

9) Crime Shows - Again, I know, you love CSI Miami, Cleveland, Hoboken, whatever. And while I am sure that Marg Helgenberger is a lovely woman, I don't care whether the perp had tobacco stained fingers and left traces of olefin fabric fibers at the crime scene. Again, given the choice between that and a snack of tinfoil, I'd have to spend some time deliberating.

10) News Talk Show Hosts - All of them are pushing an agenda and seem to be desperately clinging to that agenda at all costs, regardless of common sense. Regardless of political affiliation, I hate you all. Please go away.

OK, that was fun. Now I have to share the love with seven other worthy recipients (Lin, you can come out from hiding in that corner. I know you get wigged out by these things. I won't tag you. Promise.)

Check these fun ladies out -

Doot over at a Nut in a Nutshell - Giveaways and all sorts of fun over at her place.

Amy, over at Goodby 20's Hello Botox - She's driving distance from New Orleans, but I won't let my jealousy over that fact keep me from recommending her blog. She's a total doll and the winner of my 100th blog post spectacular. That's right, she got the vinyl gloves. Be jealous y'all!

From what I can tell, these next two ladies don't do awards, but they get a "highly recommend" from me and a total pass on the participation in the award tagging. Hell, you ALL get a pass on that if you don't want to do it. I don't want to pressure anyone, just share the bloggy love.

Wendi Aarons - A brilliantly funny lady and a hell of a writer.

Smacksy - LPR is having all sorts of fun being mom to an adorable and precocious three year old and she has a wicked sense of humor about it all.

OK, I give up. . . I don't want to choose. If you are on my (only semi-up to date) blogroll, please grab this award. I love you all and I'm tired and I have a pork loin to marinate. Have a great Sunday.

From Happy Halloween to Christmas for the Crazy

So from what I can tell from blog hopping, there seems to be trend toward sharing the post-Halloween play by play. I wasn't going to share, but rather than buck a trend, which would be much more my style, I am going to roll with it for a change. Here goes.


In a word, Halloween was OK (is that really a word? Probs not.) The thing that was harshing my mellow was the constant race against the clock. I wish I'd had more time to clean and cook, but thanks to an exploding transformer (thanks for the PCB's LIPA!), I lost four valuable hours of cooking time on the 30th. But I'm not (too) bitter about that. What really had me bitter is when my son, who told me that he was bringing four kids home for Chili Dinner, brought home FOURTEEN shaving cream covered hormone cases. If I didn't think it would only result me having to make a run to the drugstore for Imodium, I'd swap out all his Hershey Bars for Chocolate ExLax. It's moments like those that make me regret my decision not to use spanking as a form of punishment. Live and learn.



Welcome to the crypt. Pay no attention to Thing in the corner, he's shy and would prefer that we close the door.

Our demonic basketball hoop. A little one on one?

Anywho, there were fabulous elements to my Halloween, such as the cracktastic game of poker that we played until 2:00 am and the awesome costumes that my friends came in, including my husband who was hysterical as an iced-out pimp. One friend got so into her Coffin Witch costume that she actually found a coffin pocketbook somewhere on the Internet. Her husband joked that she spent more money on her costume than she did on her wedding dress. I have great friends that play along with all my silliness, much to my delight and appreciation. Brownie the Wonderdog even played along. She actually liked her costume and kept it on all day. I tried to get Spike the Hotness Monster to put on a costume, but he just gave me the finger and walked away.

MMMMMMMMMM Candy. And no, I am not a flower, I am a partially peeled banana and my hat fept falling off.

So now the mad dash toward Christmas begins. I'm an unrepentant planner and usually have at least 50% of my shopping done by now. No such luck this year. If I get a little tense and wonky with my posts over the next six weeks, please understand that I get terrible Christmas fever. I lose myself in a haze of shopping, cleaning, baking and family obligations. I apologize in advance for any manic behavior or nonsensical posts about non-parielles, wrapping paper, silver sanding sugar or punishment of naughty elves. About the only thing that I can promise is that I WILL be unhinged. Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy ride. Oh, and HO! HO! HO! (No offense).