Because I Just Can't Make This Stuff Up

Famous People Style Baby Wigs, because your bald kid just isn't cute unless she has a Lil' Kim wig. Hamster Terrorists? They always did look like they were up to something.

"Al" You Need is Love

Okay, I had to put the quotes in the title because I know if I didn't, everyone would either just assume it said "All" or think it was a typo, but ooooh baby, do I mean Al. As in Al Yankovic, AKA Weird Al. Last night around 11pm I learned his latest CD had dropped Tuesday and somehow I hadn't known that was going to happen. I called the Husband at work (he was closing last night) in whatever state is just below panic "AL has a new CD out!" I cried "And how is it that I don't own it? This is unacceptable." I laid out my plan for him to go out this morning and purchase it with some of my birthday money. Instead, my loving husband actually stopped on the way home, after midnight, to procure for me this musical masterpiece. I know what you're thinking - Weird Al? Sure, he's had a few funny moments. And I say to you "FOOL! Do you not know the genius that is Al?" He does write hilarious original music (many people seem unaware of that) and if you want to dispute his genius, you take ONE hit song, and write a funny, relevant parody that exactly fits and matches the tone and style of the song. Go ahead. I'm waiting . . . Not easy is it? Now do 5 or so for an album! See, I don't have a crush on Al. Oh no, please don't cheapen my feelings by using that term. No, I have a real, true, deep and abiding love for Al. He's brilliant, he's hilarious, he understands the pain of growing up with naturally curly hair and bad eyesight! I was heartbroken when he got married without even trying to lure me away from the Husband first (not that we were tight, but you just know if he'd have gotten to know me, he'd have loved me). Sigh. So I know how much the Husband loves me because he bought me an album that will remind me how much I adore some other man, probably his biggest rival. Of course, that's why I love the Husband. He's secure. Sure, Al's great, but he knows that in the end, I'd stick with the Husband. Also, for as much as I love Al, I know it couldn't work between us. He's a vegetarian and the only thing I know how to make without meat in it is macaroni and cheese. Oh, and the CD's great. Go get it right now.

Friday Feast

Feast One Hundred & Thirteen Appetizer What is your favorite herb or spice? Probably garlic - so yummy, good on everything. Soup Name a song you like but haven't heard in a long time. "Make Me Lose Control" by, uh, hang on, let me go google it . . . Eric Carmen. Shades of the 80s, baby! Salad If you were to take just one minute to write down as many things as you can think of that you need (not want) to do, approximately how many things would there be? probably about 15 Main Course Tell something interesting about one of your family members (nothing scandalous, please, just something unique). My brother can fold his tongue into 3 loops, like W with an extra swoop. Dessert What's the latest you've ever stayed awake? I did a 24-hour shift on the air (radio) to raise money for charity. I'd had classes that day, so I'd already been up about 10 hours, then the 24, then another 3 because I came back to Pittsburgh before I went to sleep, so that's what, 37 hours?

I Hope You Had the Time of Your Life

Sad news, my dear friends, looks like my company is about a month from the End. Oh, I knew it was a risk from the very beginning, I got into this place not even 6 months after they officially came into being. But it makes me sad because I believed in this company, in our product and in a few of the people I clearly shouldn't have. The truth is, I love this job, even when it's hard and a pain in the patootie. I love this company because of the people who started it, who worked here, who I met here. I love the challenge of making something totally new and figuring out ways to solve the problems that crop up. I love that they let me wear jeans all the time and that as long as my job is getting done, no one cares if I work from home a few days a week or don't work exactly 8 hours on a particular day. I love that we keep the lights off and that I have totally inane arguments with a coworker, which result in us calling each other the most foul names you can conjure up. Which is why I am sad that it looks like we're almost at the end of the road. If nothing changes, we'll be out of money by the beginning of November. I hate job-hunting. My resume is out of date (I've been here 5 years, a record for me). My interviewing skills are out of practice and this particular working environment has probably made me less ready to work anywhere that maintains decorum or sexual harassment laws. It reminds me of the end of high school. You knew it was coming and that you'd say goodbye to people, shut your locker and never see the place again, but you can't stop it and you just have to hope that what comes next is even better. I'll keep you updated, but I really believe this is it, folks. Barring a miracle, we're on life-support and it's just a matter of time until they pull the plug. Until then, I'll just keep coming in every morning, doing my job, and maybe slacking off, just a little .. .

Improv MC Person, I Want to Like You

I really do. Believe me, I love to laugh, and I laugh ridiculously easily. It’s one of the things people like about me. Bill Engvall had to stop his show to check on me, because I laugh so hard and loud ("You okay, there, Princess? Was it the visual? That always gets me, too.") However, the last several times we’ve been to the Improv, the MC/opener for the opener has been unbelievably unfunny. Some of the openers, too. Not just not as good or polished as the headliner, that you expect. I’m talking seriously bad. Here’s a few examples of, uh, “jokes” that these would-be stand ups have tried out: I’m a mother (pause for non-existant laughter). I have six children (pause again). Thank you! maybe I’m dense but I missed the part where this is funny? The more beer you drink, the prettier I get. Honey, if it’s on T-shirts, hats, and bumper stickers, you didn’t write it and we’ve all heard it. It was funny the first time we heard it, in college, 15 years ago. Can you believe the construction/traffic on (road in Pittsburgh)? Traffic jokes are only funny if you can do something original with them. Saying the traffic is bad is not a joke, it’s a fact. Look, some people think I’m funny, but I’m never going to do stand up. I know that most of my humor is relational, you know me, or you know the people I’m telling stories about, that makes it funny. Stand up comedy isn’t telling every joke you know. The reason things are funny is that you don't see them coming. Observations are only funny if you do more than just observe them. Don't tell a joke you heard somewhere, read somewhere or were sent on the internet. So please, for both our sakes, and so that you don't have to stand there in the bright spot, sipping your beer and listening to the occasional pity-twitter you get from someone who feels bad, take a good look at your "set". Have a close personal friend who will tell you the truth listen and tell you the truth. And if they say "Hm, I don't know .. ." Then it's NOT funny. Don't try out your jokes for the first time on stage, not until you're, oh, let's say Lewis Black-famous.

A Kiss Isn't Just A Kiss

While changing out Eddie's clothes yesterday (goodbye, 6-9 month stuff - sniff, sniff), I had Scrubs season 2 playing in the DVD player (thanks, M!). One episode had a fantastic kiss between two characters, and even though it wasn't their first kiss, it had that feel to it. I love first kisses. I don't really get anymore, the Husband frowns on that sort of thing, so I get my fix for first kisses from TVs and movies. As Lucy says in 50 First Dates, that there's nothing quite like a first kiss, and she's absolutely right. A first kiss is filled with longing and possibilities. It's almost magical - exciting and scary and wonderful. Don't get me wrong, I still love kissing the Husband, it's still wonderful and exciting, but different. Not worse, just different. I tried explaining this to a friend once, who immediately told me that she felt that exact same way every time she kissed her husband and that if I didn't there might be something wrong. I worried for a bit and then realized that either she was lying to herself or to me, afraid I'd think she didn't love her husband anymore. But it's not the same. So, thinking about that, and having mentioned an episode with one yesterday, here, off the top of my head and by no means comprehensive, is a list of fantastic first kiss scenes. Feel free to add ones I missed. 1. Han and Leia - Empire Strikes Back. Anyone my age was in love with Leia, Luke or Han. You knew Luke had his little crush on her, but anyone could feel the tension between Leia and Han. Their kiss in the middle of ship repairs, interupted by Threepio, sets the stage for one of the most perfect movie endings later. 2. Buffy and Spike - BTVS, Epsidoe "Once More With Feeling". Forget Angel the boy scout-baddy-boy scout (I found him unappealing in any setting). Riley was a total dweeb. But Spike, mmmm, Spike. Sure, sure, he very recently had been a very naughty-bad boy, what with the killing and all, but he was still the hottest thing to hit Sunnydale and when he turned good against his will, dang, girlfriend, you couldn't have keep me off of him with a tazer. Spike may have been an evil demon and all, but you have to admit, when he loved anyone, he used his whole heart and Buffy was no exception. Their first kiss at the end of the musical episode rolled my socks up, and I don't even know what that expression means. 3. Rachel and Ross - Friends. Even though the show got over exposed and jumped the shark a good long while before it ended, Ross and Rachel's first kiss is a scene stuck in my head. Him standing at the doorway to the coffee shop and her struggling to get the door open. You could feel the longing and the possibilities in that one. 4. Cher and Josh - Clueless. Solely for the sly move Josh makes. Cher playfully bats him away, which he uses to draw her in for the kiss. Sweet, sexy, perfect! 5. Harry and Sally - When Harry Met Sally. She's sobbing, rejected, vulnerable; he's trying to comfort a friend and before you know it - bam! Kissing. Of course, it all goes to heck from there, but the kiss is still great. The dancing kiss between Baby and Johnny (Dirty Dancing) is an honorable mention because it's not their first kiss, but whoooo. Seriously. I know you are picturing it right now.

Chapter 2 started

The beginning of Chapter 2 is up here. Please read thePlease read the prologue, and Chapter One, parts 1 and 2 before you read this, if you haven't already. Thanks! I'm starting to catch up to the stuff I've written ahead of time, sorry about the slow down. I'll try to do at least 1 post a week, if not more. Anyone know a way to tell the blogger to put the blogs in reverse chronological order so the chapters go the right way?

The Magic of Musicals

I love musicals. Pretty much any kind, really. Oh sure, there's been a couple that I haven't really adored, but given the chance, I'll go to the theatre any time to see pretty much any musical. I want to live in a musical. I recently told someone that if I had Jedi powers, there'd been a lot more spontaneous production numbers going on around Pittsburgh. There's an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer where this happens and, of course, it goes badly, but that's because it was caused by summoning the musical theatre demon. If I can live in a musical, I'd be happy to get to star in one. I want that moment, you know? Where the spotlight is on me alone and I'm belting out my (character's) deepest feelings, in a gorgeous costume with all eyes on me. I want the musical swelling and the chorus behind me and every woman in the audience wishing she was me. Is that too much to ask? If I had the talent and opportunity to pull it off, here's who I'd be: 1. Belle, Beauty and the Beast. My favorite musical - and the song "Home" has pretty much all of the above. 2. Audrey 1, Little Shop of Horrors. Until I saw Beauty and the Beast, this was my favorite musical. More trashy than beautiful, Audrey is one of the funnest heroines, plus she gets to sing "Somewhere That's Green" and "Suddenly Seymore" which are both funny and great. 3. Velma, Chicago. Yes, Roxie is the lead, but Velma's more fun. 4. Ado Annie, Oklahoma. Again, not the lead, but the one you remember. 5.Ulla, the Producers. Absolutely the funniest musical ever. I'd pretty much play any part to be in it. Well, they're about to shut my power off, so that's all for now.

Syd the Kid

This post has been rattling around in my head for a couple weeks. I recently got to hang out for a bit with my friend, Syd, who is an almost-14-year-old girl. Syd's great - smart, cute, and funny, with a sense of her own style. She's got parents who love her and a bratty little sister (sorry, Syd's sis, I mean that strictly from Syd's point of view - I think you're adorable). She has a boyfriend, all the cool stuff a teenager "needs" and a plan for her future. Dang, I am so jealous. I'm often surprised at the people who say things like "Oh man, I'd never want to go through high school again" or who talk about how awful puberty was. Sure, some of it's rough, but I had a ball at that age. Syd has me way outclassed in the BF department (that's "boyfriend" to all you old folks who don't text message). I always had plenty of friends who were boys, but by her age, I'd've sold my left arm to have a boyfriend. Meanwhile, the name of the boyfriend I managed to dredge out of my 32-year-old brain to ask her about was "like 3 boyfriends ago". She's also got the whole world of the internet at her fingertips, a power I could have only dreamed about way back when. Luckily for me, I was a pretty confident teen, and I can see that in Syd, too. It makes life in high school a lot easier when you can tell someone to go shove it, instead of doing whatever to gain their approval. She knows what she likes and what she wants, and I certainly wouldn't make any bets against her getting it. She completely held her own in a discussion where not only was she the only teen, but the only person under 30, and she fit in as naturally as you please. Now, she surely is a teen, as attested to by the 1 hour and 37 minutes logged on my phone calling said BF. When was the last time I talked on the phone to anyone for 1 hour and 37 minutes? I can't even guess. But I remember doing the same thing. And probably talking about the 80s versions of the same topics. What's the point, you're asking me, other than me letting you know that Syd's pretty cool? On the way home after seeing Syd, I thought I'd like to be 14 again. I'd like to go back and do it all again, be that age, be that way, be that free. But you know what I realized? As much as I might want to go back and be me at 14 again, I think I might rather be Syd at 14. She's about to start the ride of her life, and she might not even know it. Enjoy each minute, Syd; wish I could ride along with you.

It Was Only In My Dreams

So the blog comment thing has invaded even my dreams. That's right, last night I had a dream that my good friend, PW, who is kind enough to comment on pretty much all my posts, much to my delight, posted the following haiku after yesterday's post. So delicate are all the feelings you expressed it touches my heart That's right, my sleeping brain wrote a haiku, and attributed it someone else, but, you know, in my honor. Feel free to respond in haiku.

Friday Feast

Feast One Hundred & Twelve Appetizer Measured in minutes or hours, how much exercise have you had in the last week? Probably about 1 1/2 hours. I would do more, but I'm lazy. Soup If you had to change your blog title to something else, what would it be? Hmm, titles are hard. I always have a hard time with titles, and it would probably change with my mood. Maybe something like "Don't Read This - It's a Secret". Salad Name one television show you watched when you were 9-12 years old. M*A*S*H - one of the best shows ever, I still occasionally catch a few episodes. Main Course If someone gave you $50 to spend with the one condition that it had to be educational, what would you purchase? $50, hunh? That's not really that much moola . . . Maybe a set of Learn Spanish cds? Dessert Do you tend to prefer dark colors, neutral shades, or lighter/pastel hues? Dark colors!! Pastels make me itch.

I Will Try

"When you try your best but you don't succeed, when you get what you want but not what you need" Something about this song (Fix You, by Coldplay)really grabs me. Maybe because the first time I heard it, I fit the song - like every word of the lyrics had been written with me in mind. "And the tears are running down your face, when you lose something you can't replace." Who hasn't been there? Sometimes I think losing something you hadn't even had in the first place can be harder. The disappointment of losing the hope can hurt as much as losing the thing itself. Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones This is the part that always gets me. Home - even when I'm at home, if I'm hurting, I think "I just want to go home". I get cold so fast, and when I've been cold for awhile, I swear I can feel the coolness settling into my bones. The feeling I associate with "ignite your bones" is that rare moment in the middle of winter when I've almost forgotten what it feels like to not be cold and achy, and suddenly I find that warmth that chases the chill even from my bones. It has to be something that envelopes all of me. It's a safe contentment, a refuge from the coldness of life. and I will try to fix you We can't fix anyone. We can't fix their lives or what is hurting them or what they've done. I think everyone has learned that lesson the hard way at some point in their lives. But I think the reason I love this song is the hopefulness. He doesn't say "I will fix you." No one wants that. But we want the one who wants to try to fix our broken heart. Who knows that he can't heal our hurts, but he's sure going to try. It sounds like a sad song, at first, but it's a song I love to play when I'm sad. It re-ignites my hope. It reminds me that the lights will lead me home, and I have someone who will try to fix me.

Here Today . . .

I have a sort of love/hate thing going on with the Today Show. For some reason, I feel compelled to turn it on first thing each morning, but it generally annoys or angers me to the point where I have to turn it off. Lately, I've been noticing they seem to assume that their audience is of the rich and/or snooty variety. I don't know if this is intentional, but it certainly turns me off. Here are two examples - In a segment on "exotic fruits and how to serve them" their resident chef-lady indicated a plate of brightly colored fruit slices and said, "You might not have had a lychee by itself, but everyone's had a lychee martini, of course." No sarcasm or kidding, just the assumption that only a cretin living under a rock wouldn't have at least sampled a lychee martini. They announced an upcoming segment on finding the right style of jeans for your age/body type/style. Cool, I thought, I need to get new jeans soon. Silly me, I assumed that they would say things like "if you have a big belly, buy this cut, not this one." They did a little bit of that, but mostly their tips were 1. Buy expensive jeans (the least expensive pair they showcased was $143) and 2. Have each pair of jeans you buy professionally tailored to fit your unique figure. Oh yeah. That's practical. At that point, you can't even wear them like jeans anymore - I'm not going to the park in pants that cost me $140 BEFORE I got them altered. Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to take these $350 jeans to the tailor and my lychee martini is getting warm.

What's in a Name?

I'm sure you've all been on the edge of your seats awaiting the announcement of what Britney Spears named her new baby. Of course by now you've heard, it's Sutton. This caused me to rush off to see if Sutton is an actual name or something she made up (like Jailynn, which was reportedly her "girl name"). It is indeed a name, but along the way I found a bulletin board where people help each other come up with names for their kids. Now, look, I'm all for using less common names, names that mean something to you and all. But people, your child is going to have to be called whatever it is you name him for the rest of his life (or at least to age 18) so let's try to give your child a real, honest to goodness name. Not a random selection of letters you pulled out of a Scrabble box, not something you made up because you like the sound. No one wants to spend the rest of his life spelling his name and then saying "no, it doesn't mean anything, it's just some sounds my mom liked." Here are some of the things pregnant women on this board were actually considering: October (what will you call her, Ocky?) Hutch (that's a piece of furniture) Swink Loomis Broden Montag (This is German for Monday) Espen Kairick Merrick Manuka Bryntyr Tryggvi Calla (And calling her "Lily" as a nickname - I couldn't make this up) Digby Tristram Jock (JOCK????? Because he'll never be called "Dumb Jock" or "Strap" right??) Shepherd (I can't even begin to list the things wrong with that) One woman had already given her child a hyphenated middle name, which, just to be polite, I won't actually use here, but it was basically two little old lady names hyphenated together, like Edith-Meredith. One was trying to make a pronounce-able word out of her and her husband's first names combined. I apologize if any of these are your name and you love it. Feel free to comment and tell me what a jerk I am to suggest that Bryntyr is not a perfectly charming name for a little boy (?) and I humbly apologize to my friend who named her daughter Eleanora - clearly, when I suggested that was not a great name, I had no idea how much worse it could have been ;-)

Caller ID-iot

Actual transcript of a call I received this morning: Me: "Hello?" Idiot: "Hi, Julie?" Me: "No, sorry, you've got the wrong number" Idiot: "Is Julie there?" Me: "No, you have the wrong number." Idiot: "Julie Morris." Me: "Goodbye" (it was just too early in the morning for me to explain that if there are no Julies here, there are probably also no Julie Morrises, no matter how you emphasize the name.) Sigh. If you know Julie Morris, be sure and tell her an idiot is trying to reach her. This reminded me of my friend T and the problem he used to have at his old place. He used to get calls for John all the time. Creditors, girls he'd had one night stands with (who thought they had his real number), sales people, etc. They'd never believe T when he told them it wasn't John's number any more. Then one night, he got a call around 2 am - a very angry and drunk-sounding guy said "John, you better get down here! You (expletive deleted)!!! I know what you did with my woman!!" T tried to explain but the guy would have none of it. He even yelled "I know you knocked her up last night!!" T and I are impressed that they were already aware the next day that she'd been knocked up. Finally, tired, annoyed and at the end of his (already short) patience, T said "Oh yeah, what're you gonna do about it?" Drunk man: "Get down here, so I can kick your ass!!" T: "No." Drunk man: "I know where you live, I'll come kick your ass there!!" T: "Sounds good, see you soon." Turned out the guy felt he was too drunk to drive, but he promised to come kick "John's" butt first thing in the morning. T pushed for a time, but the guy wouldn't set a specific appoint, just "first thing in the morning". We've often wondered if John got up the next morning, went out to get his paper and found an angry hung-over guy waiting for him. A few months after that, T moved and got a new phone number. He was thrilled that he'd never have to take another of John's calls. Less than a week after he moved in, he got a call "Is Shawn there?"

When Good Toys Go Bad

If you have or know kids, you know that every toy in the United States is now legally required to have batteries and play annoying music - blinking lights are optional. Or at least this is my understanding based on the estimated 1 billion toys cluttering my living room, as well as the million or so in Eddie's bedroom. Most also talk, including all stuffed animals, books, balls and the boxes the toys come in. Besides the fact that I have spent half my disposable income (always hated that term, I try hard NOT to dispose of my income), on batteries of various sizes, this is a problem as the batteries begin to die. Because, course, it's never like one day it works and the next the batteries are dead. Oh no, you have to live through several days of "is this bad enough that I should put new batteries in it?" You don't want to change the batteries until you have to, since it definitely starts a trend. All the other toys suddenly realize that they need new batteries too. But the longer you wait, the scarier the noises and "music" get. At this very moment, the Husband is changing the batteries on Eddie's Chair (of course a chair talks and sings and has batteries!!) because the low batteries made the voice warble-y and anytime the music was supposed to play, it made a really loud awful buzz/hum noise that scared the dog so bad he hasn't come downstairs in almost an hour. I suspect that the manufacturers do this purposely to get you to change the batteries fast. They're all in it together, you know. Eddie, in the Chair that talks, sings, counts, blinks and scares the dog.

More Story

Part 2 of Chapter one is up here. If you haven't, please read the prologue and the first half of Chapter One first.

What a Wonderful Walk

So, I just walked out to get some lunch. I love the neighborhood my office is in, lots of little shops with fun stuff and international foods. It was a great walk - the following things occurred: 1. I got a fantastic loaf of bread with yummy dipping sauce for lunch (sure, not the most nutritious of lunches, but in my defense, the bread has sun-dried tomatoes in it, so it's practically a salad.) 2. The nice man at Labad's (Middle Eastern Grocery) with the handle bar moustache told me a I had a beautiful smile and wished me a wonderful day. 3. A nice man saved my life and complimented me at the same time "Watch out, pretty lady" (I did see the bus coming, but I appreciate the warning). 4. I got to sample various cheeses, including Australian Kangaroo Cheddar, which must be an acquired taste. 5. The nice woman ringing me up at once place said she loved my shirt, it was perfect for today - looks warm against the chill, but not at all bulky. Then we chatted about the Steelers, the universal language of Pittsburghers. so now I am happily dipping and eating. A perfect Friday adventure.

Friday Feast

Feast One Hundred Eleven Appetizer What was the very last song you listened to? The Backyardigans theme song, because my son is watching it. The last song I listened to "on purpose" was the dance remix of Heaven. Soup What is one company/store/corporation you would recommend that people stay away from? The corporation I've had the most trouble with in the past year or so has been World Partners Adoption, though I hear they are great for Eastern European adoptions. Salad On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how much do you enjoy having your picture made? probably a 7. I love to have good pictures of me, but I am always a little worried I'm going to look hideous. Main Course Besides a bookmark, what is something you've used to keep your place in a book? What haven't I used? Let's see, I've used: toilet paper, post-it notes, movie ticket stubs, a sock, pens, the slip of paper the library gives you with the due date, bus pass, pictures, junk mail, toothpaste tube, shoelaces . . . . Dessert Name a food that you like that most people don't. That's hard 'cause I'm very particular. Hmmm, I like escargot - most people may not have tried it? M suggested that I say salad with no dressing. I hate dressing. I like a nice crunchy salad though - naked salad!! Sometimes I salt my salad. That's nice, too.

Fast and Funny

Not much time to write today and since I basically wrote a small book on here yesterday, how about a few fun links? Excellent Use of Treadmills Silly and Vaguely Gross Game You Can't Stop Playing - click once to start, again to swing. See if you can beat my best ever - 1212.0 Ow. Wacky, Wackier and Wackiest Ice Creams (their definition, not mine as I find them all bizarre and think some of the "Wacky" are grosser than the "Wackiest" Give Peace a Chance Enforcing Truth in Advertising

Fantastic Parenting Tip

This is not a Mommy Blog and I don't intend to make it one, but when you get a good tip that really works, you gotta pass that along and this is one. Awhile ago I wrote this about how I was still rocking my son to sleep, ignoring all the "experts" who said you should put babies to bed drowsy but awake, blah blah blah. . When I posted that, Andrew commented about the Five Minute Drill that had worked for him and his wife. Just over a week ago, Eddie started fighting bedtime like a demon, screaming as soon as we got anywhere near the rocking chair or crib. After a few nights of that, I realized that the fighting defeated the whole purpose of the rocking to sleep, so I thought I'd give the Five Minute Drill a try. Basically, you go through your bedtime routine, put the baby in the crib and say "You're safe, you're okay, you're not alone. Mommy (and/or Daddy) loves you and I'll be right across the hall (or wherever you'll be). I (we) will be back to check on you in five minutes." Then you walk out. In five minutes, no matter what, you go back in and check. Don't pick him up, just pat him and say the same thing. This sounded like the most reasonable approach I've heard. The Ferber method (increasingly longer times between returning), the cry-it-out method and the soothe him verbally only from the doorway method all seem too harsh, and frankly, after 15 minutes of him sobbing, I'm ready to sleep in his crib with him if I have to. I like the predictable rhythm of this one, even if a child can't tell when the "five minutes" are up, they can sense the rhythm of it, and begin to learn that when you say that, you're coming back. You go back in every 5 minutes, even if he's quiet, until you're sure he's asleep. The first night, I actually explained the whole thing to Eddie ahead of time (yes, he's 13-months, but we don't really know what they understand). We brushed his teeth, feed the fish, read a book, said goodnight to the fish, turned out the light, said our prayers and I put him in his crib. As you would expect, he stood bolt upright and screamed his tiny little head off. For the first several times I came back in (I used the kitchen timer and was in there at 5 minutes on the dot each time!) he was still standing, still hollering. Then, I came in and he was sitting. Still screaming, but on his butt. At about 35 minutes, I wondered if I was doing it wrong. I checked the post again, Andrew said it took more than an hour the first time, so I figured I had another 1/2 hour at least. The next time I went in - he was lying down. Crying, but horizontal. We were making progress!! The next time, no crying, but this angry "huff-huff-huff" sound. When I returned - sound asleep! Success! After only 50-55 minutes (which felt like, I don't know, three or four years). Nights 2 and 3, my first return found him standing, second and third sitting, fourth - lying and huffing, out cold by the fifth visit. Nights 4 and 5 where "one awake visit" nights, in which he fell asleep in less than 10 minutes, and the last three nights, he's gone right into his crib with NO tears or fussing and been asleep by the first time I come back. I can't say this will work with every baby; all children are different, but I heartily endorse giving this one a try when you're ready to get your child to sleep by himself.

New Writing Post

Hi all, thanks for the kind words. The first half of Chapter One is posted here, but read the prologue first if you haven't yet.

Forever Families

What's the difference between families and noses? You can pick your nose. It's an old joke I heard back in grade school, but there's a point to it. We choose our spouses (those of us in marriages not arranged by our parents) but in general, we don't get much choice as to who is in our family. Certainly no say in what parents we get or if siblings are around. So, are our families simply an accident of nature, to be tolerated or treated no differently than anyone else? Don't our families often get the worst of us? When you blow up at someone after a long day, is it more likely to be your boss or your spouse? Even those of us with the most relaxed attitude about manners probably would think twice about belching in public, but I bet you do it at home. Yes, you do. And you pass gas, too. I know it. Family means more than blood relations (I'm not related by blood to anyone in my home!), family is the group of people (or even one other person) who even when you want to choke them with your socks, you still love. Too often today I see people all too willing to dispose of family members in our no-fault divorce, instant gratification society. But being a family isn't just a random coincidence, it's a job you have to do. We're created to need others - and to need others to need us. Family is what that is for. Family is where we learn how to see the world and ourselves. It's how we decide to let others treat us and how to treat others. It's the place where we first learn we have a place, and how to be a part of something larger than ourselves. It's where we learn to love someone because they are, not for what they are. And where we are loved even when we screw up royally. Friends will come and go. Some will be "as close as family". You still chose them. Your family is a one-time gift. You "get" a family and you have the chance to create one. Both are fragile and wonderful and critical. Don't blow it.

Last Notice

Okay, I mentioned this once, but it kind of got immediately buried - as a friend pointed out, I posted it "in the middle of the night" on a weekend, then immediately posted several more times. I started a story, you can read the prologue here and if enough people comment and want more, I'll write more. Otherwise, I'll cry myself to sleep and deny any knowledge of the link. I'll let you know when I post more and leave a permanent link on the side there, called "Jami Writes". Thanks.

The Son Never Sits

These were my son's brand-new shoes. I put them on him before we left to set up my 4th Annual 29th Birthday Picnic. Walking is still new to him, but whether on two feet or all fours, this kid moves. I took this picture as we were packing up and heading home. I hadn't noticed until I put him in his car seat that the shoes were totaled. Also, he went through 3 sets of clothes that day (not destroyed, just enough to require a change). Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's so active, but I thought he'd be just a little older before he started be so rough on the couture.

WPXI - Staffed by Idiots??

I was watching the coverage of the memorial in New York City on NBC when our local affliate, WPXI (motto: where the facts aren't necessary) decides to interupt the live feed of Rudy Giuliani's speech to (brace yourselves, dear ones) start Ellen DeGeneres's talk show. I can't even come up with a witty and sarcastic enough comment for this. But don't worry, now we'll know whether or not Jessica Simpson really does have a new beau.

Remembering

Five years ago, I sat on the couch watching Court TV and jotting down some ideas for my on-going job search. I had an interview scheduled for the afternoon, for a job that I didn’t know much about, but sounded promising. The phone rang, I answered it and my husband said “Are you watching TV?” When I said I was, he said “Pretty bizarre, hunh?” I wasn’t sure what he meant, since I watch TV rather frequently, and he didn’t know what I was watching (court coverage of a murder trial from Florida). He asked what channel I was watching and told me to put on CNN. You know what I saw. A building with a huge gaping hole, black smoke pouring out. “A plane hit it” he said. I don’t remember what I said. At some point, we hung up. I switched to NBC, I don’t know why, I guess to verify that it was true. I was watching when the second plane hit. That’s when I started to cry. And I got scared. M lived in NYC then, and worked not too far from there. I kept thinking, we’re at war, we’re under attack! I tried to call M, but of course, couldn’t get through. I saw people jumping or falling from the building. I ran upstairs to our computer, but there was no TV in that room, so I got the tiny portable TV my husband bought me when I worked in radio. I got online and started to cry again when M responded to my IMs. She was alive, she was safe, she was okay. I told her I’d call her parents and her husband’s family to let them know both were okay. The planes hitting the Pentagon and the one that went down in Somerset, the buildings themselves coming down, the news saying as many as 40,000 people could still be in the buildings when they collapsed, the people running, screaming, covered in the awful dust that made the scene even more nightmarish, I don’t need to recap it for you. I can’t tell you what order things happened in, they are just images burned into my brain. The world became a scarier place. Friends from all over called – were we safe? They said that plane went down near Pittsburgh? I cried and cried. I shook, trying to make sense of it. I prayed, not even praying words. Some things I remember: *IMing M “My God, we’re at war. We’re at war.” *My interviewer calling to cancel my interview (on autopilot, I asked her when she’d like to reschedule - later she said that’s when she knew how much I wanted the job). *I took both cars to fill them up with gas, because they kept saying on the news that if this was an attack by Mid-East terrorists, gas prices would be sky-high in days. The guy at the station said “Those a-holes! We should bomb that whole area flat! Make it a parking lot!” *Flags popping up everywhere overnight. *The expected death toll going up, up and then mercifully down and down. *The first time after the attack that a plane went overhead. I was at the T stop waiting to go into town with a few other people. How ordinary a plane going by had been, but when it went over, we all looked up. Every person there watched that plane, a mix of fear and triumph on their faces. *The woman who called a talk show the next day, afraid to let her 8-year-old go on a school field trip to LegoLand, because “what if the terrorists hit there next?” *The news coverage of celebrations in the Mid East. *I remember what a beautiful day it had been. I didn’t lose anyone – all the people I knew who could have been in the Pentagon or the Twin Towers were elsewhere, for whatever reasons - thank God. I still feel such loss – we all lost that day. We say we’ll never forget, but what did you do last Pearl Harbor day? Do you know what day that even is? Another horrible attack on American soil – people dying slowly trapped in metal structures. We say we’ll never forget. I pray we don’t.

Grilled Cheese and Plastic Sandwich

Yesterday while retrieving my son from the church nursery after service, I picked up a large plastic toy skillet. Not a realistic-looking one, but a big, hollow, bright red one with a smiley face painted on it. As I went to put it away, I flipped it over and saw, imprinted in large letters on the back, "DO NOT USE FOR COOKING OVER HEAT SOURCE". This is what our society has come to - a warning on the back of a very obviously fake skillet, telling people not to try to cook in it. Here's my solution: Remove all warnings like this, and if someone cooks with it and lives to sue, they should be immediately sterilized, as well as any of their living offspring. It's for the good of the human race. Hmm, this grilled cheese sandwich is more plastic-y and toxic than usual.

Jami Throws Caution to the Wind

Okay. Since commenting has been low, this feels like slightly less of a risk. I'm going to post a story, on a different blog, mostly because I like to keep things tidy. Also, people who don't want to read my story won't be bothered with it. This one will remain as is. So, if you want to read a story as I write it, check out the other blog. If you like it, leave a comment. If enough people comment, I'll add more. If no one does, I'll delete it, this post and any evidence that any of this existed . . .. Enjoy.

Argh! I'm It!

The following MEME was tagged unto me by Jim, who got it from Bambi, who got it from Nikki, not that I know who Bambi or Nikki are, and I'll refrain from guessing from their names that they may be strippers. Things I would like to do before I die 1. Having something published. 2. Be cheered by a stadium full of people. 3. Raise my child(ren) into intelligent, charming, polite non-serial killers. 4. Travel to oh, pretty much every place I haven't been, excluding Antartica and the north pole. 5. Learn Spanish and Mandarin. Things I CAN NOT do 1. Drive somewhere alone if I've never been there (see the Weird Fears post) 2. Tap dance. Not that I've tried, but let's just assume. 3. Whistle. I can make a sort of airy, whistly noise, but it's really not whistling. 4. Complicated math. 5. A handstand, though every now and then I think I must be able to by now (don't ask me why now) and I try. Still no. Things I CAN do 1. Convince clients that a bug they've found is a feature we intended to put in. 2. Touch my nose with my tongue. 3. Sing a decent harmony. 4. Remember conversations almost verbatim. 5. Make excellent homemade mac and cheese in the crockpot Things that attracted me to my Husband: 1. Romance - After our first date, he brought me a single rose (even did the throwing-pebbles-at-my-window thing) and told me that he's the kind of guy who likes to buy women flowers. He's super-romantic, even though you'd never guess it. 2. He's got a similar sense of humor to mine. Sure, everyone has SOME sense of humor, but it helps to find one that matches. 3. His unnatural calm. I admit it - I am a bit of a spaz. (pause for laughter). The husband stays calm in the most insane of circumstances, which I am a genius for finding. 4. Kindess - He's got a great heart. 5. Hard worker - this may sound like I'm planning to be a gold-digger, but I was raised with a certain work ethic and the fact that he had the same kind was very appealing, and has been a blessing to me. Things I say most often 1. NO!! NO!!! (to the baby, who is usually putting something in his mouth, or climbing up something) 2. (expletive deleted) morons!!! (NOT referring to the baby) 3. Excellent! 4. Yeah. 5. I don't care for that. (my new polite way of saying that something sucks). Books I love to read 1. Any of the Fletch series 2. Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe 3. MasterHarper of Pern 4. Question Quest (or most of the Xanth books) 5. To Kill a Mockingbird Movies I love 1. The Princess Bride 2. Star Wars - 4,5,2,6,3,1 (though that changes) 3. Serenity (but watch the entire Firefly series first) 4. Dodgeball - a True Underdog Story 5. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory 6. UHF 7. Addams Family Values 8. Better Off Dead 9. Grosse Pointe Blank 10. Anything with Will Smith. Yes, even the really bad ones. I in turn tag Patrick, Paperback Writer and EDW, even though I know the latter probably won't make it today.

Friday Feast

Feast One Hundred & Ten Appetizer Name 3 things that you are wearing today. Stripey Toe Socks (the kind of socks that have individual toes) Really old holey jeans Too big Edinboro shirt Soup Who was the last person you hugged? My son, Eddie Salad What do you like to order from your favorite fast food place? Now see, that's hard, because my "favorite" fast food place changes with my mood. If we're talking KFC, I'd say the two piece meal, extra crispy with mac and cheese and mashed taters. For McDonalds, you can't beat a double-cheeseburger (plain), 4 piece nuggets and (depending on mood) a pie or the yogurt parfait. At Arby's, I like a Giant and an order of those stuffed potato things. That's the best answer I can give you. Main Course What time of day do you usually feel most energized? Early afternoon or in the evening. I can really get moving about 9pm. Dessert Using the letters in your first name, write a sentence. (Example: Sweet unusual spaniels are nice.) Jumping animals mimic idiots.

Stranger When Fiction

The most important part of yesterday was winning the Whining Stranger's writing contest. I'm not going to rehash yesterday's post here, if you didn't read it, you can go do so now. I'll wait . . . Okay. I mentioned yesterday that I'm insecure about my writing, and then realized how bizarre that sounded, considering you are reading it on my blog which is basically me writing everyday and posting it where the entire world can see it. But here's the thing, I have no qualms about writing stuff that's my opinion or observation, etc. It's my fiction that I'm terrified to share. Somehow it's way, way more personal. In high school, I took Creative Writing - one of those half a year electives. The last thing I did in the class was write a short story that had been tumbling round in my head. Those were pre-computer days, so I actually wrote it out on paper with a pen(!!) and then did some editing and typed it up. Like everything I've ever written, I read it and re-read it and thought about it and edited it and got to the point where I was sick of it and figured it sucked, but it was as good as it was going to get. My teacher gave it an A (yay!) and asked me to see her after class. She wanted me to submit it to a magazine that published short stories, poems, etc. from high school kids. I think I mumbled something like "I'll think about it" and dashed out of the room. I was horrified. Makes no sense? The only way I can explain it would be, what if I said to you, "Boy, you really look great. I can tell you've dropped a few pounds, toned up, and all. You should pose naked for Playboy(or Playgirl). And be sure and send a copy to your mom." Publishing a story in a public place to me is that personal and private. My stories are more of my private me than my opinions and concerns, pet peeves and dearest loves. These things you all see, but the stories, that's the hidden part. I wonder if I could be a prolific writer. I don't know if anyone else does this (please let me know if you do), but at night when I can't sleep, I tell myself stories. I start with a scene in my head and I can hear it as clearly as if I were reading it aloud. I tell myself the story as it unfolds until I drift off, and the next night, I'll pick up at the last place I can remember, maybe refine a bit, and the story goes on. I've told myself literally (correct usage of the word) hundreds of stories over the years, some very short (one-nighters), some long enough to be a whole "real" book. But I don't know if I could share them, even if I had the patience and the time to write them all down in the day time. Every now and then I toy with putting them in chapters up on a blog, like PW has been doing with her Legends and the Janey Edition but that's awful scary. We'll see.

You Like Me, You Really Like Me

Or, at least The Whining Stranger does. You may recall, a while back, I posted a short story (short being the key word, it had a 500 word limit!) as an entry into Mr. Stranger's summer writing contest. As much as I love writing, I'm fairly insecure about things like fiction and "Am I making sense?", so it was with fear and a good stiff drink that I shared that bit with the whole wide world (or the 10 or so people who read my blog). I'm super-touched that this story won because of said insecurities, so many thanks to PW who mentioned it to me, EDW who liked the story and Whining Stranger who validated me. Please read EDW's story here and PW's here. Mine's here.

Unfunny Bop

Time for another rant. Maybe it's just me, but I doubt it. . . Is there anything as annoying as DJs on radio shows playing comedy bits and laughing so loud over top of it that you can't even hear the #$(%*@# jokes or song or whatever?? Your mic has an OFF mode, too, you know. I hate that because if you have to tell someone when to laugh, it's not funny. While I truly do understand that you are more psychologically ready to laugh if you hear someone else doing it, hearing the DJs cacophonous gaffaws drowning out whatever mild humor is actually there makes me want to drive over to the station and choke them with the mic cords. On the way home one day last week, I heard a (supposedly) funny parody song that sounded like this "She went up to . . " "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA AHHHHH! WHooo!!" ". . .and saw her . . ." "WHOOOOOO HA HA HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHHAHAHA" I couldn't hear a single entire line of the song, because the DJ, apparently knowing what was coming, would start to howl before the joke was completely told. Urrrrgggggh!!! Look, I've been a DJ, and I've done drive-time shows (not on any station you've listened to, unless you're my faithful listener Lori) and I get the pressure to be "on" and to really get people into the show. However, hearing you hoot and cackle over the material is not making me feel like I'm part of the action and even if I hear the joke first, I don't want to hear you braying in my headphones. Turn your mic down - better, turn it OFF. Good comedy doesn't need your "help" and if it's not good, why are you airing it?

Oh, And . ..

It's my birthday! For the love of Pete, will someone please comment and acknowledge me. I'm dying here in 0 Comments Land.

Blog Backlog

Hello loyal readers, My apologies for not making it to the computer over the holiday (Jami's birthday) weekend. Here's a few quick things to share: 1. My Son Has Jedi Powers. Look, you can say this was just a coincidence, but the other day Eddie was standing in the living room playing with the Incrediblock when he looked up at me, lifted one hand over his head and yelled "BAH!" At the same instant, our power went off. I said "AHHHHH! What did you do? Put it back!" and the power came back on and he went back to playing with the blocks. Anyone know of a good master to start him with? 2. "Literally" is going the way of "Irregardless". Look, using the word "literally" means that something actually happened the way you are saying it, no metaphors or similies. It doesn't just mean "to the extreme" or "really, really". In the past couple of weeks, I've heard "Scared me so bad I literally jumped out of my skin." Geez, that must hurt - how'd you get back in? and on national TV, the sports commentator said something like "He literally killed himself getting that ball." Well, then somebody better call Buffy the Vampire Slayer, because he's still walking around!! Grrrrr. 3. If you go to Google and type in "Important Thoughts", I'm the first result (as of this writing). This confirms what I've always suspected, that my thoughts really are the most important. Interestingly, I'm fifth under "weird fears" and I also show up if you search for "Jami Atwood" who is not me, but that's okay. Thanks to everyone who helped rock my birthday weekend. Special props to the Husband who took me to dinner and a movie, plus got me a Hines Ward jersey, blinky earrings and dark chocolate. Clearly, the man knows me well.

Dreaming of Genie

Okay, so we've all done the "What would you do with 3 wishes" thing, but somewhere along the line, I got this idea: The Fair Genie a friday daydream by jami I find the magic lamp and the genie pops up, "You get one wish, anything at all, BUT you have to come up with the 'catch' that makes it a little more fair." I say, "Fair? It's not about 'fair'; it's a wish!" Genie says, "But to get your wish, you have to also make the caveat. You can be gorgeous but, say, if you get married, you lose your looks. Or I can make you the smartest person to ever live, but, hmmm, take away your legs. One man chose to have incredible musical talent, but he'd also lose his hearing slowly. Get it? Something that balances out receiving this wish. Oh, and none of this self-sacrificing 'do what you want with me, but bring world peace' stuff, either. This is your wish and it's got to be about you." So I think about it. It's tough. I could be wealthy, but, what, ugly? Then I could use the money for plastic surgery, but I bet that won't work, since the Genie's pretty smart. Perfectly healthy my whole very-long life, but uh ... what? Give up some IQ points? Nah, I love being smart. Oooh - how about luckiest person in the world - things always go my way, but, um. That's hard, making up a "but" for yourself that you can live with. Then I get it! "Genie, I want to be super-talented. At everything. I want to be able to do whatever it is I want to do." Genie: "But . . .?" Me: "But, I have to work at it. Not nearly as hard as I would now, but let's say I want to play piano. I go get a book and by the end of the day, I've gotten through the first half. If I practice the next few days, just an hour a day or so, I can play concertos. In a month I could be the pianist for the Philharmonic. Once I learn a skill, I only have to practice it, say, once a month. Also, I promise to remain humble about it. I won't win any world championships or enter talent contests. That's not part of the caveat, just my word to you." The genie ponders, but I can tell he's impressed. This wish shows serious thought and understanding of his rule. He's not just handing me a freebie, I still have to earn it, but the wish means I learn it at super-human speed. Genie: "Yes, yes, I like that one. You are wise beyond your years. I will grant you this wish and even make it better. Practice each skill just twice in a year and you will preserve that talent." He does his genie-thing and I don't feel different, but I just know it worked. I go home and pick up a guitar and within an hour, I'm playing along with the radio. And the world is a whole new place for me.

Really, It Was Hilarious

Yesterday I was out on a walk with the baby and I had this great idea for a post. I wrote it all out in my head - it just flowed and I even laughed out loud a couple times. I wished I had the laptop with me on the walk so I could stop right there on the sidewalk and type it all in. I can see you know where this is going . .. Got home, put the baby to bed, got out the lappy, eagerly opened up the blogger (come on, stupid, load faster, let's go!) and realized I'd totally forgotten the entire thing. Can't even remember the topic. It's now 14 hours later, and I still for the life of me can't recall even a single word. sigh but if you need a good laugh, check out the picture below from my walk a couple days ago, as well as some of the amusing comments.

Friday Feast

Feast One Hundred & Nine Appetizer What are some lyrics you have misheard (such as, instead of "Gettin' Jiggy With It" you heard "Kick a chicken with it")? Wang Chung's Dance Hall Days, real lyrics here, which I sang "We were all in play, and we danced all days, we were cool and crazed. . . " Soup What is the worst movie you have ever seen? My Kid Brother. And I was in it (as an extra). Salad Using the letters from your favorite number, write a sentence. Example: Tomorrow has really easy experiences. For only really tough, young, smart elephants vent each nostril. Main Course What was the most interesting news story you have heard this week? That would probably be this genius who claimed to have a bomb at the airport, so that his mother wouldn't know what was really in his suitcase. Dessert Which word(s) would you choose to describe your wardrobe? Eclectic, old, comfy