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!

"I Have Chlamydia" and Other Reasons I "Love" Jon Stewart

I am a horrible less than perfect mediocre mother. 

I love my kids. I really, really, really do!  I love them more than air.  I love them to the moon and back.

You know what else I love?

Alone time. Gloriously peaceful, quiet, alone time.

I love to pour myself a glass of wine beverage and sneak into my bedroom to watch my television crush, Jon Stewart.  I DVR his show since I cannot possibly stay up past 10:07 P.M. to watch it in real time.

Over the years Jon and I have developed quite a relationship.  Jon expects nothing from me and makes me laugh at the absurdity around me.  He keeps me up to date on all the "news" I need for one day, and I can fast-forward him if he starts to annoy me. It's truly the perfect relationship.

The other night while squirreled away watching Jon, my sweet 9 year old son came into the room.  He snuggled up with me and I melted.  How many more years do I have with my sweet boy wanting to cuddle?  On the other hand, Jon was making some pretty pee your pants funny astute observations about the Mayan calendar and it's relationship with North Korea.

In a moment of parenting weakness, I decided I could cuddle with my son AND watch Jon.  Simultaneously.

Certainly this is a rookie mistake, and I should know better.  I should. I didn't.

Shortly after making this lazy parenting decision, Jon proclaimed jokingly, "I have chlamydia!"

The audience laughed, and my son asked, "What's chlamydia?"

I took a breath, and I simply told my son it is a disease.

In the next breath, my sweet son loudly blurts out, "I HAVE CHLAMYDIA!"
He then laughs hysterically a lot like Jon Stewart had just done.  

I immediately know this is an exclamation he will make on the playground, in the classroom, and most definitely in Sunday school all in an attempt to generate laughter from his equally clueless peers.

That's the night I got to talk with my son about sexually transmitted diseases.

Thanks, Jon. Thank you so much for providing me with that unscripted, awkward, parenting moment.

Jon, I don't want you hanging around my kids anymore, but in fairness, I don't think my son ever wants to watch your show again!

Look Out, Waistline, Here Comes My Mouth

My mouth has literally become the most impressive garbage disposal in North America.  

I can shove anything in there and it disappears instantly.

I know everyone thinks November and December are bad dieting months.  Everyone is busy making cookies and candies.  Large dinners are prepared and served.  Leftovers are consumed in record amounts.

Yeah, I get it.  It's a total bitch to diet in November and December.  I won't argue that.

Once the dust from the holiday settles, I can't just stop the beast.  She's been feeding since November and she won't go quietly into hibernation.  No way.  She needs fed.  Feed her!

Adding to the problem is the fact I know a bunch of generous people.  You know who you are.  Honestly, every person I saw between December 1st and January 1st gave me either candies, cookies, chocolate, or wine.  My friends know me so well!

How could I refuse them?  Did it ever even occur to me to re-gift these baggies of goodness?  Hello?  Of course not!

I just spent the last month shoveling all that goodness into me via my attached garbage disposal. Mmmmm, mmmmm, and mmmmm.

Now it's January and I can't just turn the switch off.  Noooo, I don't have that kind of willpower.

The monster needs fed and that monster is me.  Specifically my mouth, the largest most effective garbage disposal in all the land.

The other day I stood in front of the refrigerator.  I may have initially intended to clean out the refrigerator - as in throw items away.  Instead I decided to clean it out by eating as much as I possibly could while standing in front of it.  I didn't even bother fixing a plate of food.  I just snacked right from the fridge like a poorly trained man.

I would tell you what I ate, but I don't want you to lose all respect for me.  Oh, hell, who am I kidding?

I had a fistful of garlic stuffed olives, four spoonfuls of cheese spread, a bite (or two) of mashed potatoes, a slice of pumpkin roll, a chunk of pork, and a diet coke.  Don't point out the irony, I'm well aware of it.

I would have stopped myself after the olives, but I'm kind of scared to come between me and cheese.

Had I been thinking clearly in December, I would have asked Santa for a muzzle. Or, at the very least, a little self-control.

How to Resolve Cruise Envy

I've got a bad, bad case of cruise envy.

It's not my fault. I blame it entirely on friends who have the audacity to escape the real world and go on a weeklong cruise in January.

You know what I get to do in January?
Hang out in Ohio.  Woohoo!

It's a well known fact I don't cope well when friends go to exotic places or even when they travel to non-exotic places like a nice mall with a Starbucks.

These friends totally and completely deserve and need a cruise to a tropical location. I want them to go and have fun.  Truly, I do.

I also need to get a grip on my cruise envy.
To cope with my feelings, I have no other choice than to squeeze myself into their luggage as a stowaway create a cruise-like atmosphere right here in my own home.

Here's how I plan to do this:

1.  I'm turning the thermostat up to 87 degrees.  We just spent a small fortune getting an entirely new heating and cooling system so I might as well test it, right? Look out, electric bill, you are going up this month!  Of course, I'll need to mask off nearly every window and door in plastic wrap because it gets rather drafty in here.  And with the cost of electricity going up, this may cost me as much as an actual cruise.

2.  I'm going to ignore the mold around my bathtub while I sip a Mai Tai in my lukewarm tub. I'll close my eyes and pretend I'm in the Caribbean.  I have a pretty good imagination and could probably pull this off if it weren't for the fact that from that position I will have a direct view of the back of my toilet.  When was the last time I cleaned back there?  Hopefully the alcohol in my drink will keep me from pursuing that line of thought too much further.  Maybe I should take two drinks with me into the tub.

3.  I'll ask my husband to whip me up a plate of surf and turf, and when he looks at me like I've lost my mind, I'll just eat chips right out of a bag.   It will be like eating gourmet food.  Speaking of food, I'll also eat around the clock since food is always available on a cruise ship. Jealous yet, friends?

4.  I'll start leaving myself tips.  When I go to bed each night I'll put $5 on my nightstand.  After I make the bed each morning, part of me will feel like I'm getting a nice tip.  The other part of me will feel like I'm throwing money away.  It's win-win.  I'm just demented enough that finding bills in random places around my house could be loads of fun...assuming I find them before those pesky kids.

5.  Speaking of kids, I'll turn on the television and I insist the kids watch it for at least 4 hours each day. During that time, I'll pretend they are at the cruise ship's kid program.  While they are at "Camp Cruise," I'll drink the bucket of frozen margarita I keep in my freezer.

6.  When all else fails, I'll shake my head back and forth repeatedly until I'm outrageously dizzy in a vain attempt to replicate that delightful feeling of seasickness.

However, at no point during this cruise replication am I putting on a swimsuit!  For the love of all good things, I'm still digesting holiday cookies.

Who Voted for these Bozos?

I have a job. 
My job has deadlines.
I cannot just sit on my thumbs and pontificate about how much I hate my boss.
I actually have to meet my deadlines.
I actually have to w-o-r-k.
Yeah, it's rough. That's why I get paid to do it. I am not a volunteer.
If I don't meet deadlines, and instead choose to blame everyone around me for the lousy job I am doing, I risk losing my job.
It's called reality.
R-E-A-L-I-T-Y

Reality seems to be missing from our United States Congress.

The last I heard, Congress is not composed of volunteers.
They can neither compromise nor meet a deadline, BUT they continue to get handsomely paid for these failures.

They have plenty of time to meet with the press to complain about the President, taxes, other members of Congress, but they cannot compromise?

Did they skip kindergarten?  It's time to share the damn crayons. You cannot all have the red one!   Is there a time-out chair in Congress? They need disciplined.

This particular Congress will go down in history as one of the least productive Congresses in our nation's history.

Way to go!  We are all so proud we voted for you. Do you actually think we took time to vote just so we could have the pleasure of watching you totally muck up our state of affairs while we sip on $8/gallon skim milk?  Is that what you think?

I would like to propose a new reality television show called "Politicians R Idiotic, Cowardly Kwyjibos" or "PRICKs" for short.  Please brush up on Bart Simpson trivia or refer to the Urban Dictionary if you're not sure of the definition of a Kwyjibos. Yes, I'm pleased with my urban dictionary prowess.

Every Friday night Americans could tune in and see all the ridiculous things our Congress members did or didn't do in the course of the week. You know, like the time they had the giant cojones to block the reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act and then deny there is a war on women.

Then, at the end of the mind-blowing hour, we call or text our vote for which idiot Congress person should be relieved of his or her duties.  The following Friday evening Ryan Seacrest would reveal, in an overly suspenseful manner, which lame Congress person gets booted into a low paying job in middle America.

In fact, that could even lead to a spin-off show, "Can Your Ex-Congress Person Survive Middle Class?" The answer, of course, is "No," but I digress.

I, for one, do not want to go over any cliffs.
However, if the entire Congress were to slip off a cliff, I think we wouldn't even notice they were gone.

Most Fascinating Person of 2012

If Barbara Walters can name Honey BooBoo as one of the most fascinating people of 2012, then I also have the right to name one of the most fascinating people of 2012.

And I would name him.  I would. If I knew his name.

I only know what they call him, but let me tell you about him first.

This man is 80 years old. He doesn't look a single day over 79.  He was a smoker, but quit 35 years ago.  He didn't want to quit smoking, but his wife made him quit the same day she decided to quit. I have a soft spot for obedient husbands. He and his wife raised their children, and long ago those children all moved away from home.  His wife passed away, and now he spends some of his quality time watching football with my father.

On the day I met him, I was with my father and husband. We were in a local watering hole watching "The" football game of the year.  My dad introduced me to him.

He seemed like an absolutely normal, average, run-of-the-mill, non-fascinating person until I learned the following:

He had a large painful callus on his foot. It bothered him so much that he decided he needed to do something about it.

Proving he is a fascinating person, the man decided to get his electric sander and sand the callus off his foot.  Electric sander!

He summed it up by saying, "You know the callus went away, but you see the skin got really hot."

And by "really hot" he means he burned the bejeezes out of his foot.  The burn then led to an infection which resulted in him needing surgery on his foot.

He was given his nickname prior to the infamous callus incident.
Ironically enough, this man is called Hoppy.

Beat that, Barbara Walters!

David Gregory Must Be Stopped!

If you've not yet heard, sit down because this is going to shoot...errrrr.... knock your socks off!

David Gregory is a gun-touting 30 round magazine carrying journalist who was trying to have a rational conversation with NRA's Wayne LaPierre on Sunday's Meet the Press.  As you can tell from this article, I don't think it turned out the way David Gregory anticipated.

Apparently in Washington DC there is a ban about possessing magazines even if they are not attached to an actual gun.  David Gregory's was not attached to a gun.

And you know what this means, right?

All those politicians in DC are way more valuable than those of us not in DC as evidenced by stricter gun control laws.    David Gregory needs to go to jail for breaking the law.

Duh!  Of course, that's what it means!  Just ask the 7,000 people who have already signed an official petition asking for charges against David Gregory.

Obviously, he posed a threat to Mr. NRA and possibly to our national security. However, certainly Mr. NRA would be opposed to charges because that's a violation of the journalist's freedom, right?  This country doesn't need more gun control, right? Guns don't kill people, right? That's what David Gregory does? On Meet the Press?

I am sooo darn confused!!!!!

I would think, as a nation, we would want to create environments that allow for the safe ownership and use of guns.  An environment were we are more concerned about the safety in our schools and public areas than we are about the safety on the set of Meet the Press.

As I ponder the absurdity of all of this, I'm thinking about whether or not I need to make and sell "Free Gregory" t-shirts.  In the spirit of American entrepreneurship, of course!