Jami, By Any Other Name . . .

Will someone please explain celebrity perfumes to me? First, how can the perfume smell like the celebrity since he/she probably already wears a scent that exists? Hmm. Also, I get the idea that wearing the make-up/clothing line/ hair color that a celeb makes you think you look more like that celebrity (please note: it doesn't). But why on earth would you want to smell like Paris Hilton, Ashley Olsen or Antonio Banderas? Your friends won't think "Gee, Bob really smells like Beckham" because, and stay with me here, your friends don't know what Beckham smells like. We know what they look like, and maybe you can recognize the voice of your favorite famous people, but you don't know what they smell like and neither does anyone you're trying to impress. Today I saw scents for: Celine Dion Shania Twain Mary Kate Olsen Ashley Olsen Paris Hilton Britney Spears Mariah Carey Beyonce David Beckham Posh Beckham Sean John Jennifer Lopez Antonio Banderas And that's just off the top of my head. Also, Britney Spears' scent is called "Curious". Please - what could that girl possibly be curious about at this point? Or, do they mean it in the odd sense, like "curiouser and curiouser"? Just saying.

Jami and the Confusing Pantry

I mentioned this to EDW recently, so forgive me, friend, if I'm repeating myself. But I've noticed lately that the people who are most into the whole organic foods thing are also the ones all into the diet stuff. At first glance, that might sound copacetic, but I have to think it's just wrong. Let's take this example from the kitchen of a friend of mine, who I hope doesn't read this and/or take offense: Organic Milk, organic free range eggs, organic vegan hummus (is there non-vegan hummus?), organic cookies for the kids and the adults, organic whole grain crackers and the organic yogurt that has the stuff in it for digestion . . . AND, Diet Mt. Dew, Diet Coke, that butter substitute that is fat-and-cholesterol free, a few different meal replacement bars and shakes, and some vitamin/appetite suppressing candies. Now, the first set of foods - all your organic stuff - falls into your "all natural" category. Things from the harvest, you might say. Part of the "don't eat it if you don't know what it is". Then, you have the next set, which is basically all non-food foods. I mean, I love Diet Coke, but after "water" is there anything in the ingredient list that you could grow, raise or find at a farmer's market? Or that you'd even be able to tell me what it is?? No, friends. There is not. So what's the thinking here: I like organic stuff unless it's fattening? All natural stuff is good, but only if supplemented by totally inorganic? Just saying. Off Topic: I'm just going to say a brief "Happy Birthday!!" to my mother-in-law today. Have a great one and many, many, many more!

Jami, Eddie, The Husband and Elephant with a Flower

Yesterday Eddie went to his first movie. Technically, I should point out, that when he was an infant, we did take him to the drive-in and rock him to sleep at the beginning of the first movie, so it's not that he's never been there, but, well, you get what I'm saying. The plan: see Horton Hears a Who at the drive in. Our thinking was that the drive-in on a school night would be less crowded, he could run around basically up until the movie started, so as not have to sit and wait, and if he got really nuts, we could just throw him in the car. First, we went to IHOP. This has nothing to do with the movie, but we wanted to get out there since it's Pittsburgh's first IHOP and it's near the drive-in. Eddie got a pancake with a banana-slice smile and strawberry eyes, which he ate a good bit of, along with 1 slice of my bacon and 2 of the Husband's sausages. But anyway . .. We got to the drive-in about 15 minutes before the movie was scheduled to begin and we were the only car at that screen!! Totally empty!! We pulled into the best spot and Eddie spent the next 15 minutes running from one end of the lot to the other (while we took turns chasing him since we're all full of pancakes, remember?). It got dark, the movie started and we watched the movie. He moved back and forth between his own seat, our laps, and the blanket we'd laid out. He ate snacks and sometimes asked "what happened?" or, when Horton wasn't on-screen "Where's the elephant?" But he really did watch the movie. Laughed at the slapstick. Cheered at the ending! My baby went to the movies! After Horton, we changed him into his jammies and climbed into the car in the cooling night to watch Nim's Island. As expected, Eddie fell asleep before the end of the opening credits, and the Husband and I sat holding hands and cradling our fuzzy-pj'd son, all alone in a big empty field under a starry sky. Before Eddie was born, we used to go to the drive-in all the time. That last pre-baby summer, I remember so clearly thinking of how it would be when we had him home and we'd all go as a family. Know what? It was even better than I'd imagined. Sweeter than sweet.

Jami Wishes Joxer a Happy Decade

I started this post yesterday, on Joxer's birthday, but time constraints and issues with the image sizing frustrated me until I quit. Joxer is our dog. He's half dachshund and half chihuahua, and he turned 10 years old. A decade. I can't believe it. When we bought our house, the first thing I wanted was a dog. A dog means you're home. It means you're responsible grown-ups (ha!). A dog is like a kid that you don't have to get a babysitter for if you want to go to a movie. I wasn't ready for babies, but I wanted a puppy so badly I could smell that sweet baby-doggy scent in my sleep. The first two weekends after we moved, we went to shelters and scoured the local papers. The purebreds were too expensive. The shelters had no puppies, and no small dogs - all larger ones. I cried on the way home that second Sunday; all I wanted was a little furball to love. How could it be so hard? The Husband found an add in the paper the next day. I called and the day after that we went to meet the puppy. He was the second of two, and his sister had already been sold. His mother was a purebred 20 lb dachshund, and his daddy the mischievous 8 lb chihuahua who lived next door and found a way through the fence when love was in the air. The woman selling the puppies guessed he'd be no more than 12 lbs fully grown (he's 18). He was just under three pounds when we brought him home. 8 weeks and a day old. We named him Joxer on the ride home, after Ted Raimi's character in Xena. Basically, either you get the reference already, or you probably won't. Joxer's a great dog. He's been with us through some hard times and all the good ones. Our practice baby, the poor dog has been dressed in Halloween costumes, pajamas and hockey jerseys, taken to "puppy school" and even had his picture done on Santa's lap. Though little, he's got a mean bark and just knowing he's here helps me get to sleep the nights the Husband works past midnight. He endured, with some grace, the arrival of his "little brother" Eddie. When I cry, he'll sit on my lap and nudge my face. He's been in the library, the church and the video store with me. Eddie calls him"my friend, Joxer". I get scared sometimes, when I think how old he is in dog-time. Our time with him is probably more than half over and that breaks my heart. I can't even imagine this house without him, even on the days I scream "If you don't stop barking, you're going to the pound, Mister!" Happy Birthday, Joxer. Good boy! Good doggy!

Jami Overheard These Things In Stores This Week

"If you want to let your crackhead son back in your house, that's fine. I just don't think it's is a good idea." I'd have to agree. "Why don't you have Easter cards?" This person was upset because this Sunday is orthodox Easter, and she needed some Easter cards. I understand that it is your holiday and there are every other sort of cards available, but you knew it was a month after the other Easter. "I don't remember that. I was drunk that year." Wow. I've never made it more than a day. "Where's the pomade?" In 1925. "It's a pretty historic election, today - either a black guy or a woman will win." "This is just the primary, not the election." "Right, but either a black man or a woman will be president." I hope you voted.

Jami Presents Eddie and His Youngest Cousin

Thanks for sharing the pictures, Grammy!

Jami Packs Like Crazy

Sounds like I'm going away for a long time, right? Nope, just overnight. One night. Just me and the boy. And I've already got 1 overnight bag, two "car bags" (those are the ones you need in the car with you), 1 additional small bag, 1 purse, and 1 dvd carrier/holder. My problem is, I always feel like I need to pack all my "just in case" stuff. I'm a contingency girl and years of taking teenagers on the church camp trip taught me that you can never be too prepared. I'm trying to do better. I'm not taking extra socks, because I'll have my sandals, so I can wear them without socks if I need to, right? I'm not taking a towel, because I'm sure the hotel will indeed provide them, even though I really want to take one. I'm only taking a couple band-aids and the small bottle of aleve. I am packing: Long and short sleeve shirts for both of us (don't know what the temp will be in Detroit where we're going) Jeans and shorts for both of us, plus 1 extra of each for Eddie because he likes to pee 2 full sets of undergarments for myself 5 snack size bags of, well, snacks for each of us for the trip up and 5 for the trip back ( I have a weird concern about starving) 3 twenty ounce bottles of diet pop for me, for each direction both of our daily vitamins for two days 15 diapers. Yes, this equals one for about every 2 hours we'll be gone, but what if . . . . . . Believe me, I can't put any back. I tried. Plus one overnight diaper, you know, for overnight. All my toiletries, of course. Stanley I. Poddy the ipod charger, the phone charger, the dvd charger, plus the car chargers and all related cords 1 Thomas video, 2 sesame street videos, 1 TMBG kids' video 2 movies for me 2 books, even though I know my mom is bringing some 1 book for me extra socks for Eddie - he doesn't have sandals extra shoes for both of us (always pack extra shoes) my sweater and his jacket, for the car His "Eddie" blanket for sleeping pack and play sheet PJs for Eddie Long and short sleeve PJ top for me, long PJ bottoms. Eddie's puzzle and some cars I'm trying not to put in my woobie or pillows, but I probably will at least put the pillows in. I mean, hotel pillows? Come on! I'm not as bad as the guy I worked with who, this is totally true, when staying at a hotel takes a sleeping bag in and takes the comforter off the bed, then sleeps in his sleeping bag (and his own pillow, of course) on the top sheet of the bed. I have the extra juice for Eddie's trip home in the freezer. Tomorrow I'll pour his trip-there juice in the two cups with the frozen thing in the middle so that will stay cold. And it's killing me to not pack: the first aid kit milk for him in a cooler the extra socks. I really want to pack them extra books for me (it's ONE NIGHT and we're doing stuff) my variety of OTC medicines my "emergency bag for ladies" my body pillow short PJ's for him (he hates them, but what if it's warm?) onesies more toys for him my laptop a dressy outfit for each of us his baby soap/shampoo his hooded towel the vaporizer (he's stuffy) So you can see that I have a problem, but I'm working on it.

Jami Rejoins the Battle

I'm sitting on the back porch. Minding my own business. Watching Eddie "golf". When I glance down and see them. The ants. They're back. Grrrr!!!!! For those who didn't read the saga of the ongoing war between me and the hideous little beasts last year, let's just say that I hate ants with a passion and wage massive war against them every year. It's that time of year again - the battle is on. To my horror, I discover that I am out of what the Husband calls "the killy stuff" - the Spray Of Doom. The ants get to live one more night. The Husband, planning on a trip to Sam's anyway says "I'll pick you up some killy stuff. What kind do you like?" It's simple. Read the warnings. The scarier the warning, the happier I am. I look for the ones that say "It's practically illegal to have this in the same house as your children. You'll die if you hold this can too long. Put it down now and run to the chemical showers". That's good killy stuff. Today we had our first round of Armageddon. I sprayed (accidentally hitting a worm, who I moved to a safer area. I hope he survived) and sprayed and sprayed. I watched for the escape route to be revealed and sprayed there, too. Then I sprayed a few more sprays for good measure and sprinkled the chili powder across the door threshold (that really does work). Then I glared around evilly, checking for survivors. None were found, yet. I've won this battle, but I know the war has just begun. I'm going to need more killy stuff.

Jami's Son's New Haircut

So sad, cutting his beautiful hair, but he was starting to look like Prince Valiant gone wrong, so it had to be done.

Of course he still looks good. You can't make a kid this cute look bad. Thanks to Grammy for the picture.

Jami and the Exciting Morning

This week, Eddie and I have been hanging out with another 2-year-old, sitting for him while his Grammy is out of town. The upside is that the boys can amuse each other, letting me have an unprecedented amount of sit-down time. The downside is that they are 2-year-olds which means they don't share well and they have micro-length attention spans (as opposed to me, who can pay attention to things sometimes as long as 4-5 minutes). Today, however, I learned just what it takes to keep them still and quiet for twenty-five whole minutes in a row. The answer is - landscapers. The boy we're sitting is even more fascinated with trucks than Eddie is with trains, and that's saying something. So when we heard a rumble outside, he made a beeline for the front door, pointing with great urgency until I opened it so we could see . . . . a parked pick-up with a trailer. Not moving. Engine off. Didn't matter. He was hooked. He'd watch it closely and every few minutes say his word for "truck" and point. I had to agree. "Yes. It's a truck" Eddie checked it out, but once he realized it wasn't doing anything, he moseyed back to the train table. Until . .. One of the guys in the truck took out a lawn mower. And then another. Soon two men revved the engines and were off. Both boys were riveted. I don't think they even blinked. After about 10 minutes, I begin to wish I had a book handy. I mean, there are times when it could be fun to watch someone mow a lawn. If the person mowing is particularly attractive, maybe. If they lost a bet and are wearing something ridiculous. If it's someone you hate and they are mowing the lawn on an unusually unpleasant day. Maybe. But not today. Watching someone mow the lawn is almost as boring as watching it grow. Unless you're two, apparently Then the men stopped and - gasp- emptied the bags into a garbage can. The boys cheered. Then the landscapers got out weed-whackers. Guess how exciting that is. Yup, almost as much as the mowing. Thank goodness the other mommy returned home after only about 25 minutes of this or I might have expired from the thrill. But hey, they were quiet and not fighting over a toy, right? Tomorrow I'm taking a book. If you have a truck or lawn mower, please feel free to drive by.

Jami and the Blue Haired Girl

a random memory As a high school freshman (freshperson?) I hung out with a group called "the Freaks" by the other kids. Think of goth-style clothing, but without all the death and creepiness. We wore black, read poetry, liked art and books and (in our estimation, I'm sure) looking dramatic. One of the reasons I loved the Freaks was they embraced all styles and such - you didn't have to wear all black to "fit in"; one girl dressed so preppy that I heard overheard someone say "Why does she hang with the Freaks? She dresses nice enough to be friends with anyone". Tracy, one of the Freaks,was beautiful and had long flowing blue hair that I secretly envied, even knowing it would look wrong on me. I desperately wanted her to like me. Not that she didn't. Tracy's thing was being sort of aloof. Young and trying to be cooler than I felt, I knew the group accepted me, but I still wanted to be Tracy's friend. Heck, I wanted to be Tracy. I thought the kids who made fun of the Freaks didn't pick on her, but more likely, I just didn't see it. Tracy had learned to not give a rat's behind what they thought;I had yet to grasp that important lesson. I truly believed that her ultimate coolness and grace transcended clique lines and even the "in" crowd wouldn't dare bother Tracy. At an assembly, I had unfortunately been seated by two boys who teased me regularly. Adding to the horror, I spotted Tracy's blue hair diagonally in front of me. She'd hear them make fun of me, and not want to associate with such a dork. The boys started in on my clothes (all black, of course) and my nail polish (also black). One jerk said "You must be a devil worshipper if you have black nails. Black nail polish means you worship Satan". Dumb, hunh? But as a young Christian, also sort of devastating. I didn't know how to respond. Tears threatened as I floundered for a cool response. Tracy whipped around, blue hair flying out. "What is wrong with you idiots? I have blue nail polish, does that mean I bite the heads off live chickens? " The boys were silenced; how do you respond to that? "If she wants to wear black nail polish, and even if she does worship Satan, what the hell business is that of yours? Why don't you shut the hell up and mind your own damn business, you (really bad word) jerks!" Their jaws fell. Tracy nodded to me and said "hey" in her usual relaxed manner before turning back around. The assembly started, but I floated on the glory: Tracy stood up for me! She'd shut up the boys I never could. It was better than if she'd stood on the stage and yelled "Jami's cool and I like her." She might have just been sicking of hearing them spout off. She might have felt sorry for me, the pathetic newbie Freak desperately seeking her approval. She might really have liked me. At the time, it didn't matter why, because I just needed it. The ironic end to the story - when I was a senior, I heard that Tracy's sister was a freshman. I sought her out and said "Hi, I'm Jami, I was friends with your sister." The younger sister, carefully dressed in the latest fashions and surrounded by clones said to me quietly, "Don't tell people that. My sister was a total weirdo." I thought of standing up for Tracy, but I knew that while I'd finally learned to not care, this one hadn't yet. I just smiled. "She sure was. Me too."

Jami Shares the Memory

When I'm working, or really, when I'm doing anything sort of mindless, my brain picks a memory and sort of reruns it. I think about how I felt about it then and how I feel about it now. I ponder how it changed me and made me who I am now. Because let's face it, we are, at any given time, partially formed of what we've lived through - good and bad. I don't know if I'm more introspective than others, or if this is something we all do. I wonder if how I look at things now is how I'll look at them in another 5 years, especially if it isn't how I looked at it 5 years ago. I have one friend who says that when he hits "major" birthdays (the 5's, you know - 20, 25, 30, etc) that he looks back and says "Man, I was a jerk then", but at least it's a different kind of jerk each time, right? It's important me to understand myself and my motives. I tell you think because I have some random memory posts in the works and now you'll know why.

Jami's Baby Brother Hits the Big 3-0

That's right, my baby brother turns 30 today. It's very strange for me, especially since I'll be turning 29 this September (for the 6th time). Sometimes I am shocked at how time slips by. A few days ago, my brother was a pudgy toddler, a little boy who got his head stuck in a railing. He's the whip-strong teen who is suddenly cool. Yesterday he was a college kid, then engaged, and today married for years, a homeowner with a baby about to turn one, he's - a grown up! My brother is one of the great blessings of my life. I love my friends, but a sibling is a friend like no other. Happy Birthday, Baby Brother.

Jami May Need Pomegranates

Did I miss a meeting? Do pomegranates cure every known ailment including toe fungus? Because over the last few months, the number of products features pomegranate has exploded, and not just the edible ones, either. I mean, sure, there's pomegranate teas, juices, lemonades, flavored waters, breakfast bars, cough drops, cookies, cereals and diet drink mixes, but there's also pomegranate shampoos, conditioner, body lotion, body spray, candles, make-up, lip gloss, finger nail polish, deodorant, cologne spray and I kid you not - disinfectant. I am sure the pomegranate is a fine and noble fruit. I just don't know why it's invading. Should I be worried?

Jami Crushing

Ah, the Crush. I gotta be honest, dear friends, I love nothing more than love. Crushes, aren't love, they are l-u-v. They are the fun and silly part of luv that you know will never go anywhere. You'll never find the little niggly things that make you want to smack the object of crush in the forehead. They never are annoying or forgetful or snore. That's what's fun. I love luv, too. Paperback Writer, the brilliant friend who got me into blogging (blame her!!), posted this list of her current crushes. It's a fun list and one I agree with on some points. I "get" girl crushes by straight women, just like guys who have man-cruses, but the truth is, I couldn't think of one to save my soul. As I've sort of alluded to here and there, I've had some troubles with girl friends and part of that still lingers, I guess. So, here is my current all-boy crush list. Probably partial, because I'm not spending a lot of time on it: Will Smith - duh, always number one. If Jada weren't so perfect and in great shape . . . Al Yankovic - you may know him as Weird Al. Brilliant. Funny. In shape. Hines Ward - happy, gorgeous and has a Super Bowl Ring. Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory - He's so adorable. I want him as a pet. Johnny Depp - Now with Singing! Steve Buscemi - like a pug, so weird looking, you just have to love him Hank Azaria - could anyone be more under-rated than this guy? Plus, see him starkers in Run, Fatboy, Run Alan Tudyk - just because he played Wash on Firefly and I still think I'm Zoe. Spike from Angel/Buffy - not James Marsters,the actor who played him, I love Spike. Dr. Cox on Scrubs - Again, not the actor, the character. I can love a fictional character - don't judge me. Ewan McGregor - just watch Down with Love and Moulin Rouge and try NOT to luv him. Brad Pitt - cliche? sure, but let's be fair, this man's just plain tasty. Jay (of Jay and Silent Bob) - the real Jason Mewes is probably very nice, but again, it's Jay that got my heart. Val Kilmer - never could "get" why Tom Cruise was the star of Top Gun, who even noticed him next to Val? Even with the weird "teeth snap" thing. He sings, too, check out Top Secret. The Rock - He's just big and like, meanly pretty. I don't know what that means, but it's what's I think. M. Night Shyamalan - Not a great actor, but a neat brain and Indian men seem to like me Naveen Andrews- Hot, plus he's Indian, see above. Jay Chandrasekhar - continuing with my Indian theme, smart, funny and the director of the Broken Lizard's movies, which earns him extra props. Data - Shut up. I love him. Harrison Ford - who could be hotter than Han Solo AND Indiana Jones? no one, that's who. and briefly, people I would have a crush on, but they are flawed: Jack Black- smart, funny, sings, BUT he'd have to be able to turn it off, or I'd have to put a barbecue fork through his tongue. Penn Jillette - he's tall, he's funny, he's smart. But he's soooooo outspokenly atheist, I just can't get past it. Peter Tork - it is with great regret I move Pete to this list from the above, but he's just getting a bit too old. John Cusack - I love him, but really, it's just the brotherly way. Michael Cera - adorable and great comedic timing, but just too young. Robert Downey, Jr. - Dude - STOP DOING DRUGS. Thank you. River Pheonix - Beautiful, talented, but you know, dead. And finally - Sarah Silverman- adorable and so hilarious, but a chick. That's all for now, folks. Feel free to share or discuss.

Jami Can't Believe Someone Sells (and Buys!) This

The only thing more disturbing than this product's name and packaging. . .






is that the next time I was in the store I saw it in, it was sold out.

Jami Demands Answers

Why is it only when I'm late and stressed already that I can't find my keys? Why does Eddie refuse to get his shoes/coat/pants,etc. on when I really, really need to be somewhere, but if we're spending the day loafing around the house, he will insist on being in full regalia, as if we might need to flee at any moment? Why is it warm on the rainy days and cold and windy on the sunny ones? Why does everything that happens every-so-often all hit at once? Why do I let it bother me? sigh.

Jami, Men and Women

I have a post brewing, about relationships between men and women, but when I write it, it's not what I want to say. I love being a woman. I love having women friends even though I'm still really learning to do that. I love having men friends. I love joking around and flirting. I love that as an adult I am finding more women who "get" me. I miss the kind of friends I had in high school where we kind of piled on each other and that was fine. I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just that men and women are different and that's great. And that men and women are alike and that's great, too.