It's been 3 months and now I'm kickin' it Katarina style.

">Okay,  Sorry for the absence.  Summer took over and then it really took over.   I know from all of the letters of complaint it's been challenging, you know,"missing me."  So whilst encouraging my offspring and then being totally pissed off because already they are cuter and way more athletic than we (the man in my life) could have ever been.  (Oh ending with a preposition.)   So a picture.  Katarina style.  Hanging out with a bunch of pre-pubescent youngsters, their parents and a bunch of 8 year olds.  Not to mention, cheetos, bagels, beef jerky and a shit-load of chlorine.  Luckily, no murder.   Just some basketball and some Hokey-Pokey.  It's Utah.

\

It made me appreciate the people of Louisiana and also take 2 minutes to love the one your with. We survived.    I love swimming.  It's good people.  Plus some KFC, hilarious hormones and just a lot of sweat.  You'd love it too.

with love and a high five.

jen

So I mentioned one unreasonable fear. Today I found another.

Food disposal, sink disposal, waste disposal?  What do we call it?  What's the right word?  Well, I have yet another irrational fear.  Luckily my food disposal doesn't require that I fill that bad boy up with petroleum and cause a static fire.  I fear putting my hand in the disposal.  This morning the disposal was making a weird, grinding noise.  I hated the thought of sticking my fist in that hole.  (That sentence belongs on an entirely different blog, wow.)  But clearly something was wrong.

Why do I question reaching in?  It's not like my other hand is going to reach over and flip the switch.  It's not like some freak electrical malfunction is going to throw the switch and rip my hand to shreds.  It's my mom's fault.  She warned me. OVER and OVER.  Be careful. you'll lose your fingers. Maybe your whole hand.  GROSS!

Today, while reaching in and saying a little prayer I found limes from last night's cocktails.  Those should be in the composter you loser!  ooops.  forgot.  But I also found a torn up piece of "plastic who knows what" that totally doesn't belong in the composter.   Risked my life for that crazy piece of plastic.

Glad to be alive.  Still afraid of the disposal.  Be careful out there, especially in the kitchen.

After paying yet another Vet bill....this is how I feel. Warning. They say "fuck." Which is what I said after paying yet another vet bill.

I would like Foghorn Leghorn on my forehead please. And, by the way what do you charge for that?

I saw a van with curtains today, at the liquor store.  Vans with curtains make me nervous.  Who buys a van with curtains?  And then if you have a van with curtains, why do you keep them drawn?  It makes me nervous.

Face tattoos make me uncomfortable.  How bad do you have to hate your face to tattoo it?  What about a tattoo will make your face better?

Just a few things I am pondering.  Pondering....

I don't need Nostradamus, this makes it very clear to me.

So, whilst browsing a stupid catalog I received in the mail today I came across a little summin, summin'.

It is exactly why I know that the end of the world is near.  Very near.  Check it out please and then go build a safe room or a cellar or something.  Just build baby.

The Pet High Chair.

Satisfying a mutual desire for companionship, this high chair permits your dog or cat to accompany you at the dinner table. The high chair clips securely to tables up to 2" thick and its height adjusts without tools to elevate your pet to near eye level. It has a frame of powder-coated 5/8" steel tubing and its arms are rubber-coated so they will not mar table surfaces. By providing an alternative to sitting on your lap, running disruptively underfoot, or outright banishment, the chair assuages a pet (and its owner's) frustration, and promotes more refined behavior. The chair's 600-denier tan/brown nylon fabric cleans easily. Two tethers on the chair protect your dinner guests against any lapses in etiquette. Folds for convenient storage and travel. For pets up to 10 lbs. 10" H x 12" W x 9 1/2" D. (4 lbs.)

This thing cost $49.95!    Seriously?  This satisfies a "mutual desire for companionship"?  This worries mel  And some poor schmuck had to write that copy.  Oh dear Lord, the end is near. 

Forgive my sarcasm but you gotta be shittin' me?!

So Littlest Pet Shop has taken over my home. And I'm friggin' pissed.

I can't take it anymore.  The little toys.  The Littlest Pet Shop, The Polly Pockets, The Legos, The Knex.  You name it, they are taking over my home.  I tried to pee in the eldest child's bathroom and had to remove a whole Littlest Pet Shop habitat before I could even lift the lid of the chamber pot which is a commode which is a TOILET!  I stepped on a chameleon and a lion or a puppy or a kitten not sure which...anyhoo.

I am sick of the little toys and this is coming from a woman who played with Smurfs.  You know the Smurfs.  LOVED THEM!  My mom still has my Smurfs.  Papa Smurf, Smurfette.  She's got 'em.

Now if I threw them all over the Master Bedroom floor and tried to navigate over them during my 4:00 a.m. pee (face it we all do it) I would be PISSED. Clearly there is some connection between my urinary habits and little toys and if anyone out there is studying something like this, I could be available for some sort of paid study group.

In the meantime, the little toys are taking over.  There is no rule, no organization, no hope.

Smurfette, help me now.

Is my irrational fear holding me back?!

I have an extremely irrational fear.  It crept up on me when I was about 35 and has becoming increasingly more present now that I am the big 4-0.  It's a weird one I tell ya' but I'm willing to share it.

I fear pumping gas.  I am certain that I will be that static fire statistic that they show pictures of on the pump.  You know the stick figure that sparks off an explosion at the tank because she wears fleece pants (i.e. snuggy pants) way more than she should.  And said snuggy pants are quite static-y.  Dog hair comes straight off the dog and attaches it self to these pants.  They bunch at the ankles because of the static.

So I have become that gas pumper who gets out of her car and touches her car.  Then I touch the trash can next to the gas pump.  Then I touch the post next to the gas pump.  Touch my car again.  Say a little prayer and then grab the gas handle.  OCD, Nay!  Maybe, okay, probably.

I have looked at the statistics.  The chances of such a fire or explosion are extremely rare (150 cases out of approximately 50 million fill-ups a day) but I'm still considering ditching the snuggy pants.  And not because they unflattering.  They are a fire hazard.

If you are so busy strategizing you forget about living!

Had a discussion with The Man in My Life today.  We spend WAY to much time strategizing and a lot less time living. Here's an example.

Took all 3 offspring to see "Alice in Wonderland" in 3D!  today.  We discussed when we should show up at the theater (so we could get a seat)  Should we hit Petco first, do we have time? Maybe you should go see if we can get seats and then we can go from there?  Should we think about running to the store first to get soup for dinner?  You know it will be dinner time when the movie is over?  What do you think?

Once it was determined that we could not get into the theater for seats but we could wait in line we had this discussion.  Should we all wait in line?  Where are the boys?  Do you have a quarter?  Mom, when are you getting some drinks because I am hungry? (oh, wait I'm sorry son the small bottle of rum in my purse is yelling at me so don't talk to me about mixers right now.)

We have now made it into the theater.  Here I am asked... Where should we sit?  Are you sure this is a good spot for 3D perhaps we should be down a row, whatya' think?  Are there 5 in a row?  Should we move down so as not to leave a single seat that no one can use?  I have to use the restroom, should I do that before we get snacks?

Getting snacks was frightening.  What should we get the offspring?  Will they eat that much?  Will they want more?  What do we want?  Should we share a large drink?  Does that small bottle of rum in your purse cover 2 large drinks?  Do you want popcorn?  I don't know, do you?  Now that we have this popcorn, should we put some of that fancy flavoring on it?  Do you think there is too much sodium in that stuff?  Aren't we watching our sodium intake?

We spend WAY to much trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.  In the meantime, we miss most of what's going on.  We are trying to get everywhere faster, quieter, stronger, louder, bigger, better, smaller and God knows what else.  All the while, no one is looking at us and everyone is looking at us too.

Live without Strategy, you will be surprised how nicely it will work out and finally someone will have just made a decision.  Finally.

Calling all Beautiful and Funny People, You know who you are!

My self esteem is in the shitter.  I hate this time of year.  I need the sun and some money.  God I need the money.  And some sort of self worth.  I don't got it right now.  I want to be brilliant.  My kids are sucking the brilliance.  Actually they are the brilliance I just showed up to sign permission forms.

I'm cool.  I just want to be cooler.  I used to have so much more style.  I've lost a bit, I want to get it back.  It will come.  Right?  Indeed.  My brother and I discussed the power of attractiveness and humor.  Are relatively attractive and funny people treated better than those who lack humor and good looks?  I think so.

What do you beautiful and funny people think?  (I mean it.)

You all have been so kindly commenting.  Why thank you.  I love the comments.  Does anyone know how I can get an email notification for each of your comments.  I really need the instant gratification!  Really, I just need to know when a new comment shows up without checking in and trying to remember how many had commented an hour earlier!  Honestly.  How about I get a job?  Like a real job, where I have to show up in something other than my pajamas and just because it's 5:00p.m. I can't automatically pour myself an adult beverage.

Lord help my Narcissistic self.

The Aboriginal People SHOULD be pissed. They are NOT having a gay old time.

Did you see it?  Did you watch the nonsense?  Oh my hell, the Russian Ice Dancing Team just pissed the shit out of me.  There has been some controversy over their costumes. Their costumes?  That's what we are talking about?  What about the actual routine? It sucked, sucked bad.  It was like the Flintstones gone bad! Did you see their facial expressions at the end?  These are adults and this is their job and they can consciously make those faces at each other and get paid to do it?  I know what you are thinking, Olympic athletes are amateurs, they don't get paid.  Hell ya', they do.  They are RICH!   And, how does the Aboriginal leader, whoever he may be have access to Ice dancing and the costumes and  routines that are being competed in International Ice Dancing?

I'm so confused.   The Russians and their Fred and Wilma outfits which were not well made and totally distracting have gotten a shit load of attention for their lameness.  The Aboriginal people are proud.  They should be, but they have an inside track to what's going on in Ice Dancing? Really?  They know what's going on in this arena?   Don't they live in the Outback with no T.V. no radio, no internet?  It's shocking!  I am so fucking confused.

I love the Olympics but it's got me all in a bunch.  I don't get who's who and what's what and what not?  I will continue to watch.  But WHAT UP!?  Off to eat a bloomin' onion, because that's the only thing that will make me feel better.

A couple of things.

Did you read the Wall Street Journal business section (ok, we get the abbreviated version in our Sunday paper) that blogging is passe. Old school.  No one wants to read more than one paragraph.

Just when I get something, it's considered out of touch, no longer cool, I SUCK.   Fer reals?!  I don't Twitter.  Don't even know how to Twitter.  Don't want to Twitter.  The Man in My Life finds all of this ridiculous.  Twittering, blogging, Facebook...tiresome, ridiculous, overly overt. But  wait, blogging?  I like you people.  I think you are smart and funny and smart.  I'm not giving up.  I've lived long enough to see the cycle.  It happens.

Guess what Twitter won't be forever.  Twitter is weird.

Second and totally off base... she who is my 12 year old saw a taxi driver smoking in cigarette in his taxi.  Gross. We live in Utah. Only a few of us smoke and those of who dream to smoke are smoking cloves.

But just gross. If I owned that cab company, you would not be allowed to smoke in the cab.  We have money to make damn it.

Allright and Amen.  And then see ya' later.

You like me, you really, really like me. Or not.

So I was wondering how to drum up some viewers?  listeners?  lookers?  voyeurs?  Whatever, just check me out?  Well guess what happened.  Met one. Met a viewer.  She recognized me.  Via my picture.  My really lame, self-taken picture.  Have another drink kinda picture.  She wasn't scary.  She was nice and normal and nice.

We talked.  I liked her.  I think she liked me.  It was cool.

So, there are three still three.  I love you three. Thanks, would you recognize me on the street?  I am memorizing your faces so that I will know you on the street.  I  must travel to see you but who knows, stranger things have happened.

Shout out to my followers, you make me happy!

Where are you?

When do you give up? When is a post not worth posting? I want followers. I am a Narcissist. I expect followers. How do you drum them up? What's your strategy? Give it up,fellow Narcissists. Tell me how you get folks to read your drivel? It's affecting my self-esteem which is luckily being held aloft by my Narcissistic personality. I'm okay. Are you? Bring it boys and girls. Let's talk.

Jealous.

I want to be in Florida.  Hanging with The Man in My Life.  No kids.  KIDS!  Just reading magazines, books, each other's palms.  I want to be away from reality.

Do you think these questions might show up on the Census?

Did you know that because I live in the West, I am more likely to have breast implants?   If I lived in the Southeast I'd be rockin' some serious derriere implants.  

Now, I do not have breast implants and have mentioned in a past post I quite like what The Good Lord (or G*D, that's a shout out to my friend over at wifemotherexpletive.blogspot.com , she'll get it)  gave me.  Derriere implants, are you serious?  Buying jeans is tough enough, petite in length, but not "Mom jeans"  but not so low that I risk showing off the fact that I have birthed 3 large children.  I mean really, we need to add extra room for my derriere implants so that making buying said jeans puts me directly into the funny farm?!  Luckily, I don't live in Florida, this will not be a problem.

I am at risk for being tempted by other invasive procedures such as Liposuction and an Eyelid Lift, you know because I live in the West.  Tummy tuck, no. The folks in Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi want that more than me.  They live in the Southeast.  It's what they do.

Now on the minimally invasive front, Botox, soft-tissue fillers and a random chemical peel might get me through my 40's.  That's how we Westerners roll.  What about Botoxing my ass, Chemical peeling my boobs and then just adding some soft-tissue filler to my tummy.....that way I am just accentuating what I already have going.    Why stop this train from wrecking, I'm well on my way!

So, is the Census 2010 compiling this information?  I mean this is important shit.  We need to know.  When the Census Man/Woman comes knocking on my door, I'm speaking the truth.  Leave my body alone.  It rocks!

Because if I didn't you would have been disappointed.

"The coolest people on Earth" don't seem that cool.

We watched the Grammy's last night.  Of all the award shows, it's my favorite.  Maybe because it moves faster than the others, maybe because there is more entertainment.  I don't know what it is.  For the most part, it was really lame.

Sick of Taylor Swift much?  I am really tired of that child.  We love Stevie Nicks, she's cool.  But singing with Taylor Swift.  Uggh.  It was painful.

Green Day.  Awesome.  I would travel to New York to see American Idiot on Broadway.  They just come off as cool.  They are probably dicks but they seem cool.

Pink was incredible.  Loved the silk ribbon acrobatics.  Way better than the Beyonce's  dancing.  I usually like Beyonce but those head spins, where she was whipping her hair around were just plain ridiculous.

The act with Eminem and Drake and Lil' Wayne could have been interesting but unfortunately the whole thing had to be censored.  I kept asking The Man in My Life if something was wrong with the television.  Seriously is loses it's effect when you can't hear the words.

Quentin Tarantino looks like Elvis Presley.  And his attempt to sound hip and urban was just embarrassing.  He makes us 40 year old white folks look ridiculous.

I'm kinda thinking I want those two and a half hours of my life back.  But you can guarantee I will watch again next year.  Narcissist and Hypocrite.

No Sir. Someone stole my idea!

 I have some great business ideas.  I am creative and smart.  Innovative, maybe? I have ideas.  But seriously, someone pitched this idea? Someone bought it?  Some poor soul in China is producing this (questioning every minute of it I'm sure)?  And most importantly, people are buying this?  Spending their hard earned money on this?  Honestly.  I give up.

I am totally buying this for my in-laws for Christmas this year.  I am a Narcissist and a Hypocrite.  It will make my holidays so much more bearable knowing that this is under the tree ready to be opened.

I have the link if you need it.  Let me know.

Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers.

So I had a little medical procedure done last week.  It wasn't anything cosmetic.  Totally a necessary surgery that did not make my boobs bigger.  It doesn't matter, I already have nice boobs.  I was very, very nervous about said procedure as it required general anesthesia and some hard-core pain management.

While waiting in the hallway to enter the operating room, I found myself getting rather emotional.  For the past 3 weeks, I have been rather stoic.  Didn't want the rest of the world to know how I terrified I was.  I am a rock,  I see humor in everything.  Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride.  Except seeing my beloved doctor standing there holding my hand trying to calm me down.  I lost it.

The anesthesiologist  kindly administered something (Lord knows what it was but did I ever need it) and asked if I could say "Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers."  Is this a challenge?  Do you know who are talking to?  I came in here with super high blood pressure because I thought "the higher the score, the better you are!"  I am the highest of high achievers, bring it on.  So I proceeded to say "Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers" over and over and over and over.

Into the operating room, they wheel me still blabbering about "Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers."  Now I have an audience, I was coherent enough to notice.  Well, this just makes it worse.  I know this about my self.  This Narcissist LOVES an audience.  Especially when I now these people are about to see a part of my body that doesn't get much exposure.  The Man in My Life couldn't agree more on the statement.

With the audience in the palm of my hand, clearly impressed with my ability to slur "Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers"  I proudly announce, "You know I can really hold my liquor, I'm Irish."  At that moment they quickly put something over my mouth and INSISTED that I breathe deeply.

Can you imagine what the said about me for the next four hours?  Only a Narcissist would wonder.

Your hair is your best accessory.

That's what I've been told.  Your hair truly is your best accessory.  Great Clips?  Don't bother.  It's like wearing cheap earrings.  Cost Cutters?  Even worse.  You might as well tattoo your face.  Like Mike Tyson face tattoo.  Your hair is important.  You need to take care of it, style it properly.  Wear it with pride.

I have great hair.  I have waited years for great hair.  If you asked me, "Jen, what's your greatest physical trait?"  I would say, aside from my dimpled ass, it's my hair.  Actually, ass #2 , hair #1.  I pay WAY TOO MUCH to have great hair but my ass would cost SOOOO much more.  So, I am loving my hair.  Now that's the Narcissist in me speaking.  The Self Conscious-side says, "Oh thanks for liking my hair, but have you seen how gray it is?!"  Oh it's a battle between these two!

So speaking of hair?  Should I have said something?  You know me, with my fabulous hair.  Should I have mentioned that this is not okay?

 I am sure she is charming.  She was smiling and in my book that makes her "pretty."  See previous post.  However, this is atrocious.  It's unacceptable.  It's awful.  This is not a hairstyle.  Please make her stop.  If you have this hairstyle and I have offended, I apologize, but change it.  This is BAD!  With a little creativity and some scissors, you can take care of this.

Your hair is your best accessory.  Leave the earrings, the necklace, the make-up at home.  Wear your hair like you own it (and btw, you do!)  But please, wear it fashionably and with a smile.  You will knock 'em dead!

If you smiled you would be prettier.

Today I passed by someone in a car I pass by daily.  She's not attractive.  That's mean, I know but it's true. The look on her face every time I pass her (which is at least twice a day, see previous post) is a scowl.  Here's the deal, scowls are not attractive.  Have you not heard about the frown?  It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.

So, The Man in My Life and I had a discussion.  "If ugly people smile, are they less ugly?"  I say "Hell yes!"  Exuberantly with smile on my face.  I know beauty is subjective but The Man in My Life is beautiful and the narcissist in me says I'm not too bad to look at either.  However, when we frown...not as pretty.  So if you are ugly already, Guess what?  Frowning is not your best bet.  You should smile.  Smile the God out of it.  Smile like you have no idea what is going on.  You may look totally clueless but that is so much better than looking ugly.

I love people.  You could be the ugliest ugly in Uglyville and guess what I'm gonna love you because you are a person and I just like you for existing.  However, if you've done a horrible crime, I won't like you even if you are ugly.  The ugly don't got no free pass here.  But if you are ugly and are willing to smile, a sincere smile, a "I am trying to see the good in all of this " smile, you are going to be a bit more beautiful in my mind.

Smile, baby smile.  I know it's hard.  Some days just don't deserve it but you will feel better.  And I am going to call you "Pretty!"

"Oh Hello Mr. and Mrs. So and So" by all means let me acknowledge your presence.

So, I am working on a new wave. We live in a place where everyone waves. Driving in the car, people wave. Walking down the street, people wave. We live in a small town, people wave. So you know me. I like people. I wave. But I am starting to think my wave doesn't really give off my true essence. So I am working on some new waves.

How about a salute?  "Too military?"  It's easy while driving but might just be too political. I don't know.

What about genuflecating? It's quite powerful but at the same time most of the folks don't deserve it. Plus it requires you get on your knees but that's not appropriate while driving.

What about the standard "Rock On" sign. Totally eighties, which kind of dates me. And brings some kind of hair band vision. Not great. I'm trying to keep it classy.

What about when someone starts at their forehead and makes a circular motion and bows slightly? What's that called? Again, maybe not appropriate while driving....kind of distracting.

Peace sign? Over used. Not as cool as we think it is.

Pointing straight at the person, acknowledging their presence. Kind of hostile. Might be misread by recipient. Road rage, hell no, just saying "Hi!"  The Man in My Life thinks this might be his new wave.  Such a follower....

Flip them off? Well, some I would like to, but it's a small community. I need to keep it in check.

What about blowing kisses? I can be sweet and thoughtful with my blowing. It will take some by surprise. They won't be sure of my motive. I love that.

Keep 'em guessing. That's how I roll. Kisses it is!  And you didn't even have to vote.   From here on out,  I will blow kisses to everyone who waves. They are going to hate me or think I'm crazy.  Excellent!

Check. Check. Am I on? Is this thing working?