Jami and the Overshares

For whatever reason, I'm one of those people that friends, family and strangers feel the need to share with. It's good and it's bad, depending on the person and what's being shared. I'm a pretty good secret-keeper, and I am sure (for the friends and family, anyway) that may be a part of it. But regardless, I'm that person. Here's a tip, for everyone about talking to "that person" in your life. Just think a smidge before you share, because you can't unshare. A few years ago, having a discussion about fashion (and/or my lack of it) with a friend, she shared with me that she only wears underwear if she's wearing jeans. Everything else, she goes commando. Interesting, but not helpful in my life. Now, when I see her, I don't think "Doesn't Mary look cute in that?" I think "Well, no undies today." I'm not in touch with that friend at the moment, so the chances are low that she'll see this, but if you are reading it - sorry. I can't help myself. I am sure you had a point following the announcement, but whatever point you made is long gone from my head; what I remember is that you don't always wear panties, and for better or worse, I now know when that is. I've had friends, especially in college, share their boy/girlfriends successes and failures in the bedroom. Occasionally, this is to ask for suggestions on dealing with issues (no kidding, one friend asked how to kindly ask her boyfriend to stop whistling during sex) but often, it's just "girl talk" (side note: Guys, you think you talk. You don't. Girls share everything about everything and if you've ever done or said it, her friends all know it. Just saying) and when it's just idle chatter about something particularly unusual or embarrassing, it's stuck in my head forever. So don't tell me that your girlfriend is a crazy bed farter unless you want me to suspect her every time there's a bad smell. I am actually proud that people entrust me with their private thoughts and worries. I am glad to be trusted and trustworthy and to be able to help folks with problems they might not know who else to ask about. But I am just warning you - once it's out there, I can't go putting it back.

Jami's Open Letter To Elsbeth (not her real name)

My friend, let's call her Elsbeth, has a bad back. Reeeeallly bad. Surgery followed by 6 weeks in bed bad. So I'm trying to think of ways to avoid the surgery, because that's the kind of friend I am. Dear Elsbeth (not your real name), I know you did not care for my idea of whacking your back with a hockey stick and then splinting you on all sides with more hockey sticks and duct tape. Okay, that was a little inconvenient. But last night, as I lay in bed, the answer popped into my head. Dr. Octopus's extra arm thing from Spider-Man 2! It goes right into the spine, holds it in any position that you want and it will enable you to do all the things you love but haven't been able to enjoy because of your back, like stepping over cars, stopping subway trains and throwing little old ladies off of buildings. What mother wouldn't benefit from having extra arms? Not one, I tell you. Now, you might be concerned, if you've seen the movie, about how the arms made Dr. Ock a bit evil. Well, first of, let's just admit that you're well down that path all on your own. Second, the arms only wanted to commit crime to help Dr. Ock complete that big fake sun thing. I know that you have no desire to work on that sort of science-y thing, so how could it go wrong? Would it want you to make an evil casserole? So, Elsbeth, just days before your surgery, I pull out the perfect solution. You're welcome and I know you feel lucky to have me as a friend. Regards, Jami

Jami

I have been thinking of the nature of internet friendships. I have a few friends, people I do consider friends, that I have never actually seen in person. People that I care about, confide in, pray for. People that I'd would certainly not have crossed paths with if not for this crazy contraption called the internet. You can go many places to hear about how online friends and communications are making us less social, more isolated, etc. It's true that if I feel lonely and want to go out for a beer, my internet friends aren't going to be able to help. But I also talk to a lot of stay-at-home moms who found a lifeline on the internet - you can't call your next door neighbor when you're nursing at 3am and sure that you are alone in the world, but you can log on and almost always find another mom at her wit's end looking for a friendly "voice". Friendships are hard to start. You usually need to find some sort of common ground, even if it's just a tv show you both like or the fact that you both hate people who fake run across the crosswalk in front of your car, like that's somehow saving you some time. That's where the internet does what hanging out in real life may not. I made some friends at the Firefly fan board years ago. Big dorks, yup, just like me. I had a great fun-filled weekend in Vegas with those guys, an experience that I'd have missed without making friends with them. I guess what I am saying is that friends are valuable, and you can have both the fleshy real ones and the more ethereal internet ones (in fact, you should have at least a few of the former, even if you have tons of the latter). I appreciate having these folks in my life however they have arrived and for as long as they'll stay. In the words of the Golden Girls - thank you for being a friend.

Jami Waxes Thoughtful

I haven't blogged much lately, starting with vacation where I didn't have internet access and really, as much as I love to write, just didn't have it in me to dig out the laptop and commit thoughts to the virtual paper. Of course, getting back from vacation also meant laundry, cleaning and getting ready for our fall schedule. And, oh yeah, this here baby that will apparently be born at some point. With all that and the ability to commit brief thoughts to FaceBook, I just haven't been here as much. I do think of blog posts, mostly as I am drifting off to a restless slumber each night, but by morning, the posts in my head have slipped away. Naps are big now, I need them to avoid falling asleep while cooking or driving. Writing is one of my joys, and one of my sanity-keepers, and yet, how is it that it is one of the first things I let slip away? Do I really *need* to check my FaceBook Farmville Farm one more time instead of brain dumping into a blog? Logically no, but the farm I can manage while watching mindless shows, and the blog I feel required to put creative effort into. I actually got to read entire books while on vacation, reading while giving them my entire undivided attention for more than 3 minutes at a time, a rare luxury indeed. It felt as though I'd found an old friend living next door who I thought had moved to Abu Dhabi. This past weekend I went out for drinks (okay, soft drinks for me) with a few former coworkers. An event which had been so commonplace I never gave it two thoughts in a row became a major event for me: food and drinks with adults, and since they were guys, no mommy talk. I guess I am thinking about how the things I used to consider normal and essential for my mental health are now rare treats. Also long, hot bubble baths. What else has slipped away with barely a notice? Don't get me wrong, there are new things that to some extent have replaced some of these - mom's night out, though only once a month and with lots of mommying talk has replaced drinks with the guys. MOPS definitely keeps me from wanting to drive my car off a bridge. You can't beat cuddling with a sleepy toddler. It happened so fast and so slow. I had almost not noticed, and yet couldn't miss it. This is how our lives change.

Jami Wants Your Opinion

Years ago, I had a friend who was one of those friends you are certain will be a friend for life. You've pictured her sharing in the life moments ahead - weddings, children, hard times, good times. You've already been there for each other through ups and downs on both sides and it's not one of those friendships that you can imagine fading. Then, she hit a particularly tough patch. Nothing I'd wish on an enemy, and certainly not on a friend. I can't prove I did all I could, but I supported her in every way I could think of, and here's the interesting part - once she had come safely through the worst of it, she ditched me. Stopped returning calls, started cancelling plans at the last minute and never rescheduling. I took the message and let her slip away. Turns out this happened with several of the people who helped her through that time. I won't lie, I hurt over it. Mourned the loss. Questioned my actions, wondered about forcing the issue. But in the end, I said goodbye, I healed, I moved on. Of course, these are the days of FaceBook. And today, her face and name popped up. We have mutual friends. FB thinks we should be friends. I wonder, have I been suggested to her and she's not interested? Maybe she remembers and is embarrassed about how things went - I would be. My instinct is to ignore the suggestion, confirm her as a friend if she adds me, but not go after her. Honestly, I'm vaguely curious as to what she's been up to, but it's not going to keep me up tonight. So what do you think? Am I being petty not friending the one who de-friended me in real life? Or would it be sort of weird to reach out to someone who made it clear they weren't interested, even if that was going on a decade ago? Or am I nuts to even ponder this? It's just Facebook, Jami - who cares who you "friend"? Discuss.

Jami Has Been Tagged!

EDW tagged me with this meme, and since I am thereby honor-bound to complete it . . . . Four places I go over and over again: - MOPS: meetings, Moms' Nights Out, you name it - Church - Giant Eagle (our grocery store) - to the fridge Four people who mail me regularly: - Lori - My mom - Stephe (who actually sent me this same meme recently!) - Heidi from MOPS - gotta find out about those Moms' Night Out Four of my favorite places to eat, (apart from home) - Quaker Steak and Lube - Dave and Busters - Eat'N'Park - Anywhere someone brings me food that I didn't cook and don't have to clean up after Four places I'd rather be now: - On a cruise to anywhere warm - At an all-inclusive resort on a nice beach - At the Penguins' game with a beer, pretzel and nachos - Moms' Night Out - really, they're that fun Four favorite TV shows: - The Simpsons! Of course. Not like I'm a total Simpsons geek, but do YOU know Millhouse's middle name? I do. - Psych - hilarious and filled with 80s music. What could be better? - Ugly Betty - soapy, but also smart and with great heart. - the Office - funny and wrong every week Four movies I could watch over and over again: - Serenity (only after you've seen Firefly, though!) - Snakes on a Plane. Seriously, I love this movie. It has it all. - Grosse Point Blank - you have to love this heartwarming tale of a hired killer. - I, Robot - because it's got Will Smith and a great warning. And I choose to add to this meme, after doing the second to last one: Four Shows You Wish They Hadn't Cancelled - Pushing Daisies - a clever, new premise, great actors, hilarity, occasional singing, and great cliffhangers. Oh, and solving murders. Why wouldn't this smart, fun show be cancelled? - Futurama - as evidenced by the three movies released since cancellation, they still had stories to tell - Firefly - Great writing, great acting, great ideas - no advertising, played out of order, gee, wonder why it didn't do well. - Arrested Development - a great push was made for this, too little, too late. This show was so wrongly funny it makes the Office look like Matlock. I don't really have anyone to tag, so I just randomly tag whoever wants to do it. If you don't have a blog, feel free to answer in the comments here. And EDW, you gotta do the last one.

Jami Meant to Write This Last Week

I had this idea of posting all the things I'm thankful for, and even started writing it, but you could probably guess it. Family, friends, a potential for a great new job, home, etc. Good stuff, no doubt, but same-old-same-old. So here are a few shout outs to people that I should have thanked and probably don't do it enough. I'm going to leave off my immediate family, even though I am immensely grateful to all of them, but it's both too personal and too obvious. In no particular order . . . MOPS Mommies - Thanks for saving my sanity when I think I can't survive another minute. I can't tell you how it changed my outlook when you told me that I am not just fine, I am cool and funny. When you let me cry and everyone had a story about doing the same thing, when you gave me a chance to reach out to other mommies and just because I really needed friends right then. Aerie - Thanks for helping me put together the bunk beds, most recently, but also for being a friend I can do stuff with and forget that I'm old and someone's mom. EDW - Thanks for being the person I called when I had a total moment of losing it this summer, and being the "yeah, you're totally right!" person I needed, even if I wasn't. I love chatting with you, though we don't get to often enough. You're proof that you don't need to be in the same state to be a great friend. Friends Who Stay in Touch - Stephe, Charlie, Lori, Kris, Anne, Monica, and Cheryl, especially. Thanks for keeping it going! We might not get to get together as often as we'd like but at least we email, call and send pics around. It's important to me to have you in my life, even if it's not for tea twice a week. My Church Family - Thanks for being more than the other people in the pews. You're one of the reasons that I know that you don't have to be biologically related to someone to be their family. I strive to give back to you as much as you've given to me. Lauren - Thanks for starting the youth group back up, sticking with it even though the kids are, uh, not what we'd expected and for reminding me how much I love that ministry, especially when I'm not in charge. You, Aerie and Giovanna are my proof to myself that I have done at least something of value with my life. My neighbors - Thanks for being people that I enjoy talking to. Thanks for loving Eddie and for inviting us to fun events. In an increasingly non-personal world, it means a lot to me to have people I like and talk to living around us. Everyone who makes a fuss over Eddie - Thanks for verifying my belief that my son is extra-special, adorable, intelligent, witty and charming. This especially goes to: Kim and Jen, the staff at the Library, Pam at the Bank, the other "teachers" at preschool, and my parents' and grandparents' friends. Not that you could help but adore him, but I do appreciate it.

Jami Chases the Turkey

So, the annual Turkey Chase - well, okay, the first one I've attended, but apparently this was the 21st one. What, you ask, is a Turkey Chase? It's a scavenger hunt style activity for adults who have temporarily forgotten that they are too old to be doing it. At the starting place, you and your team (the people who fit safely in your car) get a clue, which sends you to another location where you hunt for another clue which leads you to the next one and so on and so on. The final clue leads you to the PARRRR-TAAAY, where the three D's come into play - Dinner, Drinking and Dancing. Our car of rookies came in 7th - not bad for first-timers, we are told. Over 140 people participated, all of whom are normally intelligent, responsible adults. As we rushed (obeying all traffic laws) from spot to spot, we contemplated how embarrassing it would be, if we were pulled over for speeding, a carload of 30 year-olds rushing to the parking lot of a T station to find a hidden can, because our crossword puzzle told us to. Hmmm. One member of our team wanted to win, of course, but didn't really get the passion until the end of the evening, when the awesome rubber-chicken-and-random-objects trophy was presented. Suddenly, the win-lust hit and now we have plans to win the whole thing next year . . . Lessons learned: 1. Thinking too hard doesn't always help. Occam's razor has endured for a reason. 2. Don't climb over railings if you're not sure you can make it. 3. Ice is slippery. 4. If you sing badly enough, they won't make you do the entire song. 5. Child locks should be turned off, if you want your whole team to exit the car quickly. 6. People who start drinking BEFORE the Chase should not be allowed to interpret clues. I guess that's it. I'll post pictures at some point, if I remember.

Jami's Reasons This Week Sucked

This week was long and stupid. I hate it when the bad days gang up on you. Combine that with my son deciding that it's fun to wake up in the middle of the night and scream for Mommy, only to immediately fall back to sleep as soon as I drag my tired butt to his bed and say "what's wrong?" Here's why I hated this week:

• The dentist found some "not cavities yet" due to my bad teeth - NOT bad brushing - that need to be "drilled and filled" to make it possible for me to brush them properly. The unpleasant office manager worked up the estimate for me and when I asked about the meds I got last time to make me mellow and less likely to flip out and run out of the dentist office with a hygienist still clinging to me, she said "Why would you want that for THIS?" Excuse me? Do you know what I've been through in my dental history? Do you know how fragile I am in regards to this? Shut up and give me the estimate, bad word. ("bad word" is the phrase I've been replacing bad words in my speech with. Not only is it less offensive, it usually makes me laugh my bad word off.) So, not only to do I feel bad about having to have it done, I feel worse about being scared of the drill. Thanks so much.
• I spent another 4 hours (bringing the 6 month total to 20 hours) over three days on the phone with Verizon's Customer Screw-vice. This time, those Bad Words assured me that it's all taken care of - even though I've yet to have a single correct bill from them. But, hey, I'm sure it is, this time.
• My company sent me the FAQ for this week's work yesterday. That's right, all the work I've had to do already because it's due Saturday at noon, they sent the FAQ on Friday afternoon. Oh, so bad wording helpful. Guess where the info for next week's work is? Here? No, don't be silly.
• I hate to get into girly stuff, but I had the dreaded PMS so bad this entire week that I actually hoped I had a mental disorder so I could get some meds. Since I'm starting to feel better, I guess they probably won't believe me that I have some initials disorder from a TV commercial (SAD, PMSD, CRAZY).
• Eddie has entered an exciting new phase called "PLAY WITH ME NOW". It's not that I'm neglecting him, it's just that after 3 straight hours of playing trains, I'm actually looking forward to cleaning the bathroom, but if I attempt that, I have 35 pounds of weeping crazy attached to my leg screaming that he CAN'T play trains alone, even though if I go back, I'm not allowed to actually touch any of the trains because I'm doing it wrong.
• I tried to do my MOPS set up early because I had a church meeting at my church and some people were in my main set up room. So not only did it slow down my set up for that night, I still had to get up early for MOPS.
• The dog has decided that the basement is an appropriate place to poo if he doesn't feel like going outside. Shut the basement door, you say? Yeah, that made him decide to use the dining room. At least the basement isn't carpeted.
• I haven't read more than 10 pages of my doula materials because of, well, everything else I've written here.
• I have to finish the Christmas Eve service tonight (writing it) and if I can't get out of this funk, it's going to be like "And the shepherds said 'Holy Bad Word! What's that?"

So here I sit, using the time I've bought by starting Sesame Street to pour my troubles out onto all of you. I should admit the following good things:

• I had MOPS which was great. I love MOPS and I may have another kid just so I can keep going when Eddie ages out.
• We had a Girls' Night Out on Thursday, where I self-medicated with fried foods and a drink the size of my head.
• The Husband found out he will have Thanksgiving off
• I'm going to lunch tomorrow with PaperWriter, who I haven't seen in forever.

So I guess it all balances out, right? RIGHT? It has to . . . .

Jami Celebrates September 11

I struggled with the title of this. Certainly the word isn't one we associate with the tragedy of that infamous day. I ended up looking it up on dictionary.com, and the first definition is "to observe (a day) or commemorate (an event) with ceremonies or festivities". And that's sort of what I was going for. This year I took a different tack to planning the day. In the past, I've tried to eliminate all the unnecessary activities, to spend time praying for the survivors, those who lost loved ones and the brave heroes from that day. But when I was thinking about it this year, I decide that a better way to honor those who died is to spend the day celebrating our lives. We slept in, cuddled in bed as a family, went to the zoo, went to "Old McDonalds" as Eddie calls his favorite fast food place. We had ice cream. I went to a play with a friend and out afterward for a few beers with some friends. It was a day to recognize the goodness that we have. We were blessed to not lose anyone, and for that I thank God. But we should all remember how fragile and unplanned life can be. Let's grab every moment together we can. Watch the baby orangutan climb with awe on our faces. Giggle at an old inside joke. Hug our loved ones as tight as we can. Never let a chance to laugh or sing or love go by. That honors the lives lost more than a ceremony, or a bell toll, or a wreath.

Jami Learns a Disappointing Fact

In the course of a conversation with one friend, she mentions that one of the reasons she is no longer close to a mutual acquaintance (let's call her Mary) is the racial slurs she uses. Mary and I have just been getting to know each other, this other friend has known her for several years, so I guess Mary either hasn't felt comfortable enough around me to use the offensive words, or knowing that I'm from a multi-culti family, she has restrained herself. This is one of the problems with political correctness - it calls racism where there sometimes isn't, and it helps people who are racist hide it better. See, I'm a big believer in: if you're racist, let the world know it. Use the most crass, evil offense words you know. Use them all the time. This is the USA and you have the total right to believe any crazy thing you want. And I have the right to not want to be your friend if your ideas don't work for me. But I have to know what you think to decide if we can be buds. I respect you and your beliefs, but that doesn't mean I want to spend too much time exposed to them. So let's be upfront about it. In a world where it's not longer socially acceptable to even admit there are differences, people who think those differences are important are increasingly harder to spot.

Jami's Two Part Series of Having Friends - Part Two

If you didn't read yesterday's, you might want to start there. Either way . . Part Two: It's Important to Have Not-Mommy Friends Not-Mommy Friends (NMF's) can either have no children, yet, or children but their youngest is an adult. You need Not-Mommy Friends because you have to be able to go out sometimes and they are way easier to schedule with than Mommy-Friends. I remember, I do, before kids. A friend would call me up and say "Wanna go see a movie?" and I'd say "Sure!" and meet her at the theatre. Maybe go to dinner. Now, it goes more like "You want to see a movie?" "What day? I have to see if the Husband is working and if not then I have to find a babysitter" "Okay, I have a sitter for Thursday night or Sunday afternoon" "Okay, Sunday afternoon I can do if we can see a movie that starts no later than 2 and come right home without even watching the credits". Aeire, who I have mentioned before, I'm certain, is a great NMF. She still has obligations and schedules and stuff, but if I want to go hang out, we can find a time. She doesn't have to deal with a sitter or cancel because her kid threw up. We don't have to figure out if we need the car with the carseat in it. Plus, she's totally cool. You need Non-Mommy Friends because you need someone to remind you that there are other things to talk about besides children. Sure, you can mention your children or what you did that day, but your NMF's aren't going to stand for an hour of discussion of Potty Training Issues or the co-sleeping debate. They will remind you that there are books and movies and world events and fashion and whatever else. You need that. Turn off the mommy-side of the brain for awhile and remember who the rest of you is. You need Non-Mommy Friends because they are usually the ones you've known the longest. When you become a parent, it seems that most of the new friends you make are through parent-stuff. The NMF's you keep are usually the ones you had before the little ones came along. They're the ones who threw your shower, even though they didn't know what the heck half the stuff you registered for is. They are a part of who you are now because they were a part of making you that person. And they'll probably end up being Mommy-Friends at some point, so don't let them go now. You need them more now - they'll need you more then. It's what friendship is about. It's important to have Non-Mommy friends. Here's a shout out to the people I love - my friends of the Mommy and Not-Mommy variety. Each of you is special and wonderful and makes my life as rich as it is. Thanks, God bless you - I love you!

Jami's Two Part Series of Having Friends - Part One

I'm a lot of things - wife, sister, daughter, friend, cousin, employee, etc. You know that drill. But most of my time right now is spent being a Mommy. As you know if you have a kid, it changes every facet of your life. For me, the biggest change was in my social life. Being a mommy changes your friendships. And I learned two things: 1. It's important to have Mommy-Friends 2. It's important to have not-Mommy Friends. So this is Part One: It's Important to Have Mommy Friends The first month I was a stay at home mom nearly stole my sanity. That's a story for another post. But let's just say, I loved even while losing my grip. Then came MOPS. A friend of the Husband's gave me the info for her group and after the first meeting, I couldn't wait the two weeks until the next meeting. They had what I needed - Mommy Friends (MF's) You need Mommy-Friends because you need to talk to someone else who understands that you can love your kids and not bear to be away from them for a minute and still want to lock them in a sound-proof room so you can watch a grown-up TV show and eat junk food. You need Mommy-Friends because they find your kid-stories cute, and you will listen to theirs. You know your friends without kids can only take so many "the adorable thing my kid did today" stories. Your MF's can sit around a table and share them for hours and no one is bored. You need Mommy-Friends because the topics of your conversation are going to be uninteresting to others. One of my MF's just told me about a time she and her not-mommy friends sat around a campfire chatting and she went into her camper and cried because she didn't know what to talk about anymore. None of them had an opinion on which is better - Diaper Genie or Diaper Champ. They were talking about doing things she couldn't afford, and even if she could, probably wouldn't be able to participate in anyway, with the kids. You need Mommy-Friends to convince you you're not crazy, bad or going to permanently mess up your kids. They've been there. Someone else's kid spit up on a stranger or said the cuss word you blurted out in traffic to your minister. Everyone had that moment when she wasn't as vigilant as she normally is and had a could-have-been-tragic moment. We reassure each other. We offer suggestions or a shoulder to cry on. We keep each others' secrets. We laugh and hug and cry, and then we all hug our kids and are glad we have them and each other. You need Mommy-Friends because becoming a parent is moving to a whole new world and you better make friends on your new planet. It's important to have Mommy-Friends.

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, 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.

Jami Manages the Crazy Death Monkeys

It's not as exciting as it sounds, really. What we are talking about here is fantasy hockey. The Husband had had a league for the last several years and at first I had no interest in it. However, I like hockey and I like games. I have no knowledge of players who aren't on the Penguins, however, or at least very little. I suspected this would be my downfall. Last season was my first attempt. I allowed the computer to draft for me, since me trying to make up my own draft when I didn't even really understand most of how the league itself worked seemed like a poor idea. I did choose the name "Crazy Death Monkeys" which was my gaming nickname given to me by a good friend. (Of course, when it was just me, it was just Crazy Death Monkey, but since this is a whole team, one has to pluralize, unless one is a "Blue" or a "Wild" which apparently don't. But I digress). So last year my strategy was:

• Allow the computer to draft for me
• Replace people I didn't like or who weren't doing well or were injured with the player in the same position who had the funniest name.
• Forget to update my team for several days at a time.

This strategy did not work as well as I hoped. I did enjoy one glorious day at the top ranking, and then pretty much rocketed to the cellar like Auntie Em when the wind picks up. The only thing that kept me out of actual last place was the team manager who started the season, then got busy with real life and decided not to play anymore. We defeated him soundly. Go, Monkeys, Go!

This year I employed a new strategy which I choose not to give away here, lest my opponents seize on it. It does not involve any more knowledge, research or paying attention to the games, though I will say that I have managed to keep the team updated almost daily this time. Also, I again let the computer draft for me, since he did such a fine job last year. And the results? As of this writing, CDM lead the league by more than 80 points with less than a month to go. That's right. We've been leading for a few weeks, though I've been loathe to brag, assuming karma would then mortally wound all my players. But I have to crow a little, don't I?

I'm winning. I don't even know who some of the fine young men on my team play for (yes, I know it says it under their names, that doens't mean I remember it once I click away), and yet I am kicking the butts of some serious hockey junkies.

So let me just say:

Crazy Death Monkeys rock the house! We are kickin' butt and cookin' chickens! They said the Hanson Brothers couldn't be beaten (acutally I said that). They said a Monkey can't beat a Unicorn (okay, no one said that). They said someone who doesn't really even "get" some of the rules can never triumph.

They were wrong . . . . The Crazy Death Monkeys are leaving 'em all behind.

Go, Monkeys, Go!!!

(I encourage you to chant this, right now, wherever you are.)

Jami and the Coworkers

You can read EDW's issue with a non-coworker but person working nearby here. In a way, it's what I've been sort of thinking about lately. When I tell people that I'm a stay-at-home mommy (though now I have a part-time gig), one of the things some people will ask is "Do you miss work?" Let me just say, does anyone miss working once they stop it? Do I miss my job would be a better question. I do miss spending time goofing off online. I miss having nice lunches at a restaurant. I miss having work that was actually done once I finished it (as opposed to laundry, dishes, dusting, etc). I miss intelluctual challenges. I miss happy hours. I don't miss the commute. I don't miss my alarm clock (though I have one now that goes "MMMOOOOMMMMMYYYYY!!!!"). I don't miss demanding clients, impossible deadlines, or some of the more tedious tasks. Mostly I miss my coworkers, who at the last job at least, were mostly a good lot. This new job doesn't have coworkers, which is a bit of a bummer. Ah well. At least I already have friends, right?

Jami Guest Blogs and Stews in Her Jealousy

Yes, that's right, I am honored to be a guest blogger over at EDW's place while she whoops it up in Vegas. Soooo jealous. If wishes were horses, I'd be selling a few of them to fly my butt on out there and join in the debauchery. But wishes are not horses. It's true. And since my son is either insane or systematically trying to destroy me as part of some evil toddler plot, I can't write another post at this time. So go there, read that and if I'm not committed to an asylum by tomorrow, I'll post here then.

Jami Dreams a Little Dream of You

Well, not all of you, but my dream last night featured three of my regular friends/readers: PW, EDW and Patrick. Also, two celebrities. Basically, EDW, PW and I were scheduled to appear on Dr. Phil. I'm not entirely sure why, I think it had something to do with people who blog. Patrick told us he lives close to where they film Dr. Phil (not true in the waking world) and we could stay with him. When we got to Patrick's house, it turned out that his wife was not at all happy about the arrangement. She didn't believe we had been invited there for the Dr. Phil show, she believed we were "some internet hos" that Patrick had "ordered up for himself". Not the best hostess, she called us very not nice names and even spit at us. Nonetheless, we stayed at her house, since Patrick had set up a nice little work area where we all had laptop docking stations. We had Dr. Phil call Patrick's wife to explain that we three happily married women were not purchased online, and after talking to her, Dr. Phil decided that they made a better story than the three blogging girls, so we were out and they were in. Disappointed, but not out of options, PW, EDW and I went to a casting call for a commercial. They were looking for a "mother type" which we decided that at least one of us must look like. Piers Morgan did the interviews and none of us were chosen. So we all went bike riding, Piers included. I guess overall, it's a good trip if you get to go biking with Piers Morgan.

Jami Hears a Few Funny Things

Regular reader and all-around awesome woman Aerie informed me that I've been slacking lately and since I live to make Aerie's life better (as do we all), I wanted to be sure to post today. So here's a few quick things that made me chuckle... At a drug store where I worked yesterday, a couple was examining diet aids. The husband didn't evince much interest while his wife compared, until he checked out the cost. "Look at the price!" He said. She ignored him. "Couldn't you just exercise??" I started to chuckle as she glared at him. He started to whistle what I later recognized as the theme to Rocky. She was not amused. For any guys who see nothing wrong with this, I would suggest trying "Baby, you don't need to lose weight, you look just fine" That way you save the money and get good hubby points. At the Super Bowl Party I attended last night, Aerie's cousin (who we'll just call AC) wore an attractive black sweater-dress, tights and boots. She told us that as she and her husband (we'll call him "John" were leaving for the party, he exclaimed "Aren't you going to put on some pants?" We all had a good chuckle, but let's look at this from John's point of view. Imagine the trouble he'd been in if AC had arrived at the party without pants, and not meaning too. Then he'd really have been in trouble. He said "It looks like a shirt, I didn't know." He's got a point. Sure, she had tights and boots on, but what if she had somehow forgotten her pants? Wouldn't she have been grateful that he noticed? Poor guy, that really was a no-win situation for him. I mentioned before that when I'm working, people approach me to ask questions about the store's sales or stock or whatever, and I explain that "I don't work for this store" and that I'm sorry I can't help them. But recently, people have been trying to argue with me about it. Look, if I lied to you and I do work for this store, do you really think I'm going to go "Oh, you caught me, I DO know!" If I'm a such a crappy employee that I already lied to you, why would I help you if you keep bothering me? Maybe I'm some lunatic who has a scanner and a UPC fetish or a competitor sneaking in to gather info on this store. The last one was: Woman: Do you work here? Are these (pointing at a picture in an ad) still on sale? Me: I'm sorry, I don't work for (name of store), so I don't know. Woman: You don't? Me: No, sorry. Woman: But you have that price gun thing. Me: Yes, I do inventory for a market research company. It doesn't tell me prices. Woman: But you were here before. I just need to know if these are still on sale. Me: I'm sorry, but I don't know. Maybe you could ask at the front counter. Woman: (annoyed at my rudeness) Can't you just scan it and tell me? Me: No, it doesn't tell me prices, it just takes inventory. Woman: Well, it looks like you work here. She storms off. Now, seriously, did she really think at some point I'd just go "Ooops, wait a minute, I DO work here. I totally forgot. Silly me"? Maybe I'm wrong, but I'd like to think that if I asked someone, even if he/she was wearing a sign that said "I work here, ask me!" that when he/she said "I don't know", I'd believe it. But that's just me. Sorry you probably already knew at least two of those stories, Aerie. I'll try to be funnier tomorrow.