Adult Summer Camp

Adult Summer Camp

So lets get this straight...
For the last several months moms and dads have been working feverishly to find summer camps for our kids. We don't have the time and/or stamina to watch these wild creatures during the summer months.  The public school system is exhausted from trying to educate them and needs a break, too.  This means we need to figure out a way to keep our children out of trouble during the endless summer days.

Are we happy to just let our kids zone in front of their electronic devices all summer long?  No.  That's what they want to do so clearly we want to avoid that option.

Instead we search near and far, high and low for the perfect medley of summer camps.  We want them to experience everything within the realm of reason and a few things that aren't. After all, as children, we spent our summers riding bicycles with no helmets and eating dirt. We demand better for our kids!

We pay hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of dollars on summer camps.  The summer camps advertise they will create a wonderful, earth shattering experience for our kids. Our kids will fish, climb rock walls, dance, sail, learn archery, identify every tree in existence, learn which berries they can eat and which will poison them instantly.  They'll swim, draw, make masterpieces out of clay, learn a foreign language, play an instrument, and quite possibly become even more knowledgeable about insects than they were two weeks ago.

Wow!  That's a bucket load of fun for a child who would prefer to sit at home and watch YouTube videos.

This got me thinking which is always scary.

Why don't we take those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of dollars and send ourselves off to Adult Summer Camp?  That's ASC for short.  As long as we leave some pizza in the refrigerator and chips in the pantry, I'm not sure our kids will even notice our absence.

In my imaginary world, ASC is geared towards parents and has the following arduous schedule:

Welcome to Adult Summer Camp (ASC).  Our mission is to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Our camp is a relaxed, comfortable environment where you will be able to pee in privacy and have uninterrupted adult conversations.  Although we are a pet-friendly camp, children are strictly prohibited. The following is an example of a daily schedule, but your pleasure is our #1 priority so the schedule can be tailored to fit your needs...

Daily Schedule

Morning:
- Wake up whenever you feel like it
- Eat breakfast if you want, but you have no need to prepare a darn thing for any living creature
- Begin reading whatever trashy novel you want without guilt or judgement
- At no point will you hear any whining, complaining, or noises that need investigated

Afternoon
- Eat lunch with a bottle of wine. No judgement if the content of your glass is larger than that of your plate
- Take a nap which will not be interrupted by tattle-telling or complaints of boredom


Evening
- Eat a delicious dinner which will not be peppered with any noisy, crying, or disgruntled children
- Following the delicious, uninterrupted dinner, campers will have the option of sitting in a hammock, hot tub, poolside, or by a blackjack table
- Go to bed whenever your heart's desire vs. being forced to pass out after a long day of herding cats. 


Ahhhhhh...adult summer camp.  Who's in?

Fifty Shades of Volunteer Work

Yes, I confess I read all three Fifty Shades books. 

In fairness I read them for "research" purposes versus being a total horn-dog. I just needed to see what all the buzz was about and whether or not I needed to invest in nipple clips.

Now that I've read the books, I am a little curious about the movie. I hear a movie may be in the works. Although I cannot imagine how it could ever open in theaters, vs pay-per-view channels, I feel a certain obligation to assist with the casting choices.

After much introspection, I've decided to volunteer to search the globe for the man to play Christian Gray.  I've always considered myself a philanthropist so I really don't mind volunteering for what will, no doubt, be a vigorous undertaking.

In my spare time, I've been googling (and ogling) young actors who may just be qualified to play sexy, billionaire Christian Gray.

If I need to make this my life's work, so be it.
I just really feel moved to give to the arts. I'm sure you understand. In fact, you may even want to volunteer with me for this noble cause.

I'm pleased to say, my volunteer work has already started.  I feel I have found some real Christian Grey contenders.

I suggest you review the following candidates:

Garrett Hedlund
Josh Duhamel
Channing Tatum
Matt Bomer
Ian Somerhalder
Chris Pine

Especially Chris Pine.
Yeah, you really should indulge in a little eye candy. It has zero calories and won't leave you feeling bloated.

Now excuse me.
I need to get back to my volunteer work.

A Facebook Page is Born

I'm proud to announce the birth of a Facebook page.

It arrived at 11 PM on January 11, 2013.  It entered Facebook world with only one Like, but now it has over eighty. The Facebook page's momma is tired but doing well.  That woman is always tired so this isn't really saying much.

The Facebook page's momma named it "I've Got to Get This Off My Chest."  (Yes, she must have been drunk.)  You can visit the page on Facebook at:
http://www.facebook.com/IveGotToGetThisOffMyChest.

The proud parent is asking you to like and share the page with the masses so her delicate self-esteem isn't bruised and damaged by obvious Facebook de-friending and rejection.

Unfortunately, the Facebook page's momma isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, and she's still trying to figure out all the Facebook bells and whistles.  Are there bells and whistles?

Truth be told, it took her a year just to figure out how to birth a Facebook page!
The lady needs help. In fairness, 364 of those days were spent trying to find a free moment to read the Facebook FAQs related to birthing a Facebook page.  She has two non-virtual children, and they are a complete time-suck joy.  They are so much joy it leaves her very like time to urinate in private, write clever blogs, decipher the many faces of Facebook.  The woman is still not sure she birthed the Facebook page correctly.  She's thinking of asking her non-virtual 11 year old for help. That tween knows everything. Or at least that's what the tween tells her.

All of this to say, Facebook has gained another precious page to their already enormous Facebook family.  Hopefully this page will be nurtured, loved, and will develop into a smart, funny, healthy page.

It's what every parent wants for their child..errr..Facebook page.

Please share this joyful news with others!

'Twas the Night Before the Night Before Bunion Surgery

Twas the night before the night
Before bunion surgery
When all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse

The children were nestled
All safe in their bed
While visions of pretty feet
Danced in my head.

Me and my bunion,
With the rest of my foot,
Had just settled down,
But sleeping was moot.

When out of the blue
My brain started to clatter.
I sprang from my bed
To see what was the matter.

Away to the bathroom
I ran like a pro
Tore off my slippers
And stared at my toe.

My bunion was huge
And angry at me.
I glared at it and...
I swear it starred back at me!

When what to my wandering eyes
Should appear
But a bottle of Ambien
To help me, my dear!

With a twist of the cap
And a swig full of water,
I knew I would sleep
I could not falter.

More rapid than eagles
The sandman did come.
I greeted him warmly
And then I went numb.

Zzzzz

5 Essentials for a Bug Out Bag

That bitch Sandy got me thinking about the time my family was without power for all eternity countless days. (Check out Sociology Experiment Gone Bad if you want to glimpse that madness.)

This then got me thinking about survivalists and other people with whom I have nothing in common.

According to my research, a "Bug Out Bag" is a backpack filled with items you will need when you come face to face with Armageddon.  Survivalist seemingly love their BOBs (Bug Out Bags).Bug-Out Bag (Google Affiliate Ad)

As I understand it, rational people put things like bottled water, canned meat, weapons and a variety of seeds (since, of course, planting a garden following Armageddon is necessary.  Duh!).

I would argue that truly rational people don't even pack a "Bug Out Bag," but what do I know?

All of this to say, either way you look at it, I am not a rational person.

I now want to make a "Bug Out Bag," but mine will not contain water and canned meat.

After giving this a considerable amount of thought, and by that I mean a solid five minutes, I've come up with the 5 essential items to place in my "Bug Out Bag."

1.  Multiple bottles of wine
There's water in wine and it's also sort of like fruit.  I'm not packing a corkscrew so the wine will be in screw top bottles. Notice I am also not packing any cups. Cups would take up much needed space.

2.  Razors
Yes, a zombie might eat my face during a zombie apocalypse, but I refuse to die with hairy armpits.  Simply Venus Disposable Razor - 16 ct. - Shaving & Hair Removal (Google Affiliate Ad)

3.  Cheez Whiz 
I hate to admit it during non-Armageddon times, but when face to face with the end of times, I will totally own up to the fact that I'm a huge fan of processed cheese.  All cheese is good, of course, but it's hard to beat the goodness of a rich, thick processed cheese product... especially while drinking cheep wine right from the bottle.  Cheez Whiz (White) T-Shirt (Google Affiliate Ad)

4.  Aspirin
Wine can give me a headache. I can only assume that wine plus trying to survive the end of times will also give me a headache.

5.  Multiple bottles of wine
Seriously, can you ever have enough wine during an apocalypse?

For scarier other ideas about what to pack, google "Bug Out Bag" bag.

Don't say I didn't warn you!

Achieving World Peace

Every once in a great while I have an epiphany. Something that was once confusing and complicated is revealed to me clearly and simply.

Not to brag, but the other day I had an epiphany. A pretty significant one.

Yeah, I realized how to achieve world peace.

I'm sure this is valuable information, and I'm probably stupid and naive for sharing it so broadly. I should probably call Homeland Security, the CIA, or whoever is responsible for finding the way to create world peace. I mean, really, I probably will get the Nobel Peace prize for this one. It is that significant. Consider yourself lucky to hear it from me first.

Ok. Here goes...

The key to world peace is to equip everyone with a high quality air conditioner.

There is conflict in the Middle East because they are HOT.
Hot, hot, hot.

Heat makes people rabid in their irritability. I know this first hand because my loving family of four recently spent 9 days without electricity. We were loving to one another one minute, and in the next minute, it was scary ugly. We were unarmed so no one actually died. I can only imagine the destruction that armed hot people can create.

While we are equipping everyone with air conditioners, I think we should also give every family and organized terrorist organization a dishwasher. When you are hot it is one thing, but when you are hot and surrounded by dirty dishes, it's enough to make you want to go fight with the first person you see. In my case that's my husband, but it could just as easily be Afghanistan.

Do you see the brilliance behind my plan?
Cool the world off. Coolness = peace.

In fact, I'm fairly certain PEACE is an acronym for:

P. Provide
E. Everyone with
A. Air
C. Conditioning;
E. Eliminate war

Wonder where I should keep my Nobel Peace Prize?

Perhaps next to my Pulitzer.

Walmart Drama

I routinely text "I'm in hell" to my husband while in Walmart.

I have a strong love-hate relationship with Walmart. I hate it, but where else can I buy a loaf of bread, a coffee pot, and a can of paint under one roof?

I believe it is a scientific fact that no one can leave Walmart spending less than $17.96. Even if you just run in for a gallon of milk and band aids, you will discover Walmart has rolled back prices on random items like citronella candles, toothpaste, and flip flops. Before you know it your cart is full of forty-two dollars worth of products made in China and shipped to the U.S. for your convenience.

Inevitably, I take my odd assortment of necessities to the checkout line where I am reminded that hell exists on earth.

Hell is being in a Walmart checkout line with three carts ahead of you and a price check going terribly wrong at the register.

Looking around at the other lines you discover they are moving, albeit rather slowly. You're trapped in your lane because you are committed to it. You are superstitious enough to believe if you move to a faster lane, you will cause it to halt immediately.

There are no express lanes in Walmart despite the fact that several are labeled that way. This is just Walmart's way of instilling false hope in your heart before crushing it like a bug.

Damn you, Walmart!

No matter what line you choose, it will come to a dead stop as some walmartian insists the sign for live bait said $2.50 and not $2.99. Of course, the clerk at the counter has no idea so she needs to call the pimply faced, high school student worker to go find out.

Of course, the live bait is sold in the camping and fishing department which is a mere 2.5 miles from the register. As the pimply faced, high school student saunters off at a pace slower than your 92 year old aunt Erma, you begin digging in your purse for 49 cents. You are willing to make this donation to Walmart on behalf of Mr. I-Cannot-Dig-Up-My-Own-Worms just so the line moves. You can only find 27 cents at the bottom of your purse.

At this point, you have an out of body experience. You realize there are people not in Walmart, and you imagine what they are doing with their freedom.

You start to understand the desire to shoplift, and you know serving time would be less painful than standing in the Walmart checkout line from hell. As you consider shoving a gallon of milk up your shirt, you catch the eye of a 4 year old girl in the cart ahead of you. Her nose is running and she has Doritos stains on her cheek. Her look brings you back from your fantasy of shoplifting and you remain rooted in the line from Hell.

You look around for others who feel your pain, but there is no one willing or able to make eye contact with you except that 4 year old girl in the cart ahead of you. She begins eating her boogers and you realize you're hungry. When did you last eat? Will you ever eat again? Oh my! You might actually die in this line.

Panic sets in. You need to say goodbye to your loved ones. Your blood sugar is dropping and you know you aren't going to make it. You root around for your cell phone and text, "I'm in hell!" to your husband and a few other random people. At least they'll know where to find your dead body.

Aisle 27. Walmart, U.S.A.

Fifty Shades of...You've Got to Be Kidding Me

It's fiction, obviously.

Fifty Shades of Grey reminds me of Christmas.
EEK! I think that might be blasphemy.

My inner goddess just cringed and made a run for the hills.

Let me re-phrase:

Fifty Shades of Grey reminds me of when I have to wrap large amounts of presents.
There are only so many ways to wrap a present.

1.  You can wrap a present on a table or other hard service.
2.  Presents can easily be wrapped on the floor assuming you can get down on the floor and back up again without hurting yourself.
3.  You can wrap a present any time of the day or night.
4.  You can wrap a present in total silence or while listening to loud chamber music.
5.  You can bag your present. You know, place the present in a nice gift bag.
6.  You can wrap a present with a pair of scissors in one hand and cable ties tape in the other.
7.  You can tie the present up with rope ribbons and put a blindfold bow on top
8.  You can perhaps wrap a present in or around a bathtub, but it can get awfully messy if you go that direction.

In the end, you are left with a wrapped present.
Sure, sometimes the present feels looks better and more satisfying than others, but it is still a wrapped present.

If you've not yet read Fifty Shades of Grey by E L James, you need to do so.
Not because it's a literary masterpiece but because your inner goddess will thank you for it.

Plus, it's better than spending an evening wrapping presents.

My Oscar Speech

They don't give Oscars to working moms who lack all talent and aren't in movies.

That's really too bad because I know I could win an Oscar for my role in my life.
I play a woman who appears occasionally organized, superficially competent, and mildly witty.
It's not reality. It's just a role I play.

However, on the off chance I need it, I've written my Oscar acceptance speech.
I can just imagine giving it...

I need to preface this with the fact that when my name is called, I will act completely shocked. Notice I said "act." In my heart, I am sure I deserve the award, but I don't want to be presumptuous by walking halfway to the stage before my name is announced.

As it is, I will wait until my name is called, feign shock, and then walk slowly to the stage. My slow pace will be based partly on my desire to drag out the applause and partly on the fact that I will have difficulty maneuvering in my dress.

I've chosen a dress by my favorite designer who also happens to be my daughter.
My budding fashion designer has literally countless years left of practice before anything she designs can make it anywhere near the red carpet. The dress is made out of feathers, glitter, and her favorite blue bed sheet. It's assembled using pins, yarn, and hot glue because who can be bothered threading a needle?
I look stunning. Well, stunningly ridiculous, but no one will have the nerve to say that to my face.
Why?
Because I'm an Oscar winner! Try to keep up with my rich fantasy life.

Once on stage, I will smile down at Oscar and then clutch him tightly to my breast as I recite my speech:

"It's such an honor just to be nominated. So many amazing women in this category. The PTO president, the homeroom mom, the church choir director, and ...oh, I'm sorry, I'm so nervous I can't remember everyone.

"I want to thank my obscenely dependent family. I would not be standing here without them. If they were just marginally more organized, I wouldn't need to pretend to be. If they could learn to take care of themselves just once, I would never have even been nominated! I would also like to thank the woman who made this night possible...my manager. Wait. That's me! Well, needless to say, my manager is amazing! She's really the glue that keeps me and the rest of my family together."

At this point, I would look straight into the camera and say, "Somewhere out there a little girl is watching. She wonders if she can ever be an overwhelmed, stressed mother who lives in a fantasy world. A woman who wakes up each morning and totally acts like something she is not...balanced. To that little girl I say, Yes! Yes, this chaotic, outrageously cluttered life can be yours, too. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Music will start playing and the crowd will cheer loudly. Oscar and I will exit stage left.

Once off stage, I will realize I forgot to thank my own mother.

Well, isn't that just typical! Even Oscar winners can't remember to thank their mothers!

Seth Meyers and I Spent the Night Together

That's right! I was out with Seth Meyers Friday night, and I had a fabulous time!
Yes, Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live.
Yep, him! He is such a cutie pie.

OK, fine.
Ruin my fantasy, but technically I DID go out "with" him.
Him and several hundred other people who were watching his hilariously funny stand-up routine.
I wasn't actually "with with" him, but I was with him. You know what I mean?
(Oh, no. I feel myself channeling my junior high school self, and I seemingly have no control over it!)

I'm really not one of those women who pine after unattainable famous men. I just happen to have a rich fantasy life. I also have eclectic taste in my leading men. My favorites include, in no particular order: Seth Meyers, Matt Lauer, Tom Hanks, Jimmy Fallon, Denzel Washington, Ben Affleck, and Woody from Toy Story.

I carry no guilt regarding my fantasy crushes because I know my husband has a few of his own. Jennifer Aniston has been his television crush for over a decade, and I know he is drawn to Tina Fey, too. In fairness, Tina is on my crush list, too. That lady is funny hot!

As it turns out, Seth and my son have something in common. They both like fart jokes.
Only Seth's fart jokes are more high-brow, if there is such a thing as a "high brow fart joke."

Although I mean no offense to the delightfully funny, cute, smart Seth Meyers, I think he would make a lovely Polly Pocket doll. I just have the urge to keep him in my pocket. He's so tiny and cute! I could pull him out whenever I feel like I need a good laugh. He's such a cute, funny, little guy! Mattel could make a fortune off this idea!

Perhaps it was the pre-show cocktails, but I really felt like Seth and I had a connection Friday night.

No, I'm not a stalker. I perfected those skills in junior high but ultimately abandoned them in college. Young teenage girls really are very scary creatures, aren't they?

Well, Seth doesn't have to worry. I'm not going to show up unannounced at his place of work or anything wacky like that!

By the way, anyone want to take a trip to New York with me?
I hear it's lovely there in Spring.