Ricki, I've Got Your Number

Some bloggers have giveaways. Some bloggers review things. I have none of those things. I just have a post title that sings.

So, the Ricki Lake Story. Next on FOX. No, but I did get into a big contentious fight with a FOX personality on BlogHer yesterday. A good discussion of Keynesian economics, stimulus, fiscal responsibility. Fun stuff. I dig economics, always have. So, right now, it's like Britney [accidentally] getting married in Vegas to a pop culture junkie. Every headline has "read me" written all over it.

Enough of the thinking. Back to Ricki Lake. This is a LONGGGGG story. So, what better way to skip a lot of you hearing it but to blog about it on the weekend, when blog-land is deserted. The story begins back in 1995, when I was a camp counselor during the summer after my Freshman year in college. That, right there, should explain a lot. A freshman. What did I care about the future, or whether the name "Ricki Lake" was in my past? I went off to be a water-ski camp counselor at a [very expensive, exclusive] girls' sleep-away camp in the Adirondacks of Upstate NY. Literally, one of my campers' families endowed a major Washington DC university. Uh-huh. There was also a boys' camp, and it was on an island, far removed from the girls' camp.

However! There were plenty of little mixers. Especially for the counselors, whom I remember as some of the coolest, most interesting, most educated colleagues I had. The weekend routine became for a whole bunch of us to hang out off-"camp"us. You know, someone would get beer and we'd all hang out in a big parking lot, with a campfire. Exciting stuff, when you're not of age! So.... there was this guy. We'll call him "J" to protect the guilty. He was pretty much the life of the party.. Division I (Ivy League) basketball player, outgoing, etc. So, we hung out for the summer (really, I hung out with everyone.) But yes, we hung out a lot. My campers giggled, and to this day I do not know how they found out we were hanging out.

The summer ended, the way summers commonly end. Everyone went home and forgot all about all the people they'd met over the summer. I was a college Sophomore, that meant I was a Bigger Deal than the year before, I had a new apartment, I had an ID. It was awesome to be me. I was loving college life, my sorority, my friends, all my myriad activities that kept me from reading and writing papers.

Then I got the call. It was a producer from the Ricki Lake show.
"What?"
"Yes, I'm serious! I'm one of the producers from the show, and we got a call from your old boyfriend, 'J'!"
"My.. what? Oh, he wasn't my boyfriend."
"Oh, THAT'S ok. We'll just call him that. He says you're sexier than his 'ex."
"Um. Heh. What?"
"So 'J' is now dating this other girl, and he says you're sexier than she is. We'd like you to come onto the show to talk about it. She'll be there too. It's just a light, fun show. You know, fun and light."
"Hm. Can I think about it?"
"What's there to think about? We'll fly you up to New York, tape the show, you'll get to meet Ricki, we'll feed you, put you up in a nice hotel, provide all the transportation you need. It's fun! So, can I send you over to travel?"
"Hm. Wow. Hm. Let me think about this.."

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Horse Toy's Revenge

Welp. There's no way I can follow yesterday's performance. More people came and read Black Squirrel's letter than have ever read my blog posts, so I think we're on to something here. No, it's not some sick twisted plot to get those of you waiting for the Ricki Lake story to read my blog every day until I post that dreaded little disaster. (Plus, I made a deal with Jeanne from the Raisin Chronicles to post pictures, and that means locating and scanning said pictures.) I went and spoke to Horse Toy about this phenomenon, and she had a lot to say about the matter. She wanted her say. And thus, her sweet revenge.

::

Dear Black Squirrel,

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but. He's just not that into you. Do us all a favor and just leave Echo alone. The way you stare at him from across the room all the time, frankly, is creeping us all out. Especially Bear Toy. I saw the Kongs rolling away, too.

Just face it. You're washed up. You're old. I mean, I got here at Christmas time. He got you, what.. a year ago? My plush coat is plushier, my eyes are brighter, my squeaker is louder. Plus, I have a mane! A year ago, maybe I'd have some competition. That's a century in dog years. Face facts, little rodent. You're beaten. Done.

Just wait.. Mom is going away on a trip in Feb., and guess who Echo has requested come with? That's right. Yours truly.

And just because Echo brought you in from out in the snow earlier today does not mean anything.

Yours "truly",

Horse Toy

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To Echo. Love, Black Squirrel.

Echo, my loyal black lab.

Mama Kat over at Mama Kat's Losin' It has a writing workshop every week, and I usually like to participate (no, I'm not procrastinating from blogging about the Ricki Lake show, promise.) Today, however, I was asked to post a letter on Black Squirrel's behalf. Black Squirrel, it would seem, is doing:
4.) Write a letter to someone who bothered you this week.

Dear Echo,

It pains me to even write this letter to you, but I just couldn't figure out another way. I love you, Echo, I always have and I always will. But today, I've decided. I can't just keep rolling over for you. I've tried a long time to just suck it up, and look forward to the glorious, joy-filled moments when you hear Mom's car pull up, race over to grab me in your mouth to present me to her upon her entrance in the front door, and wriggle me all over the place as you try to vie for her attention. I live for those moments, Echo. I will always treasure the sound your nails make as they slide across the hardwoods towards me, as I am your prize that you must present to Mom.

But enough is enough. I can't take it anymore. Last week, when you accidentally took me outside, it was cold. Damn, was it cold. Real squirrels were laughing at me from their burrows. Then, when you left me outside, Gracie (the canine pogo-stick) stole over from next door and threw me around her yard for a while. As if leaving me wasn't cold enough, do you know how humiliating that was? And then today, the final straw. I've been buried up to my tail tip with snow and ice, all day. Snow and ice! Do you even know that I'm gone? Have you even noticed? Or has that new Horse Toy just completely taken over your brain?

Don't think I haven't noticed. You pick Horse Toy up soo gracefully.. gingerly.. even tenderly, whenever Mom comes home now. It's sickening. It's so obvious what's going on. I try not to blame myself. How can I get your love again? How can I get us back to how we were?

And then today, I just decided. With my tail numb from cold, my heart numb from neglect, I've decided that you no longer mean to me what you once did. So, I'm over it. I'm over you! I'm over you and next time Gracie comes over to steal me to her yard, I might just stay. I'll be able to laugh at Horse Toy from over the fence.

Love,
Black Squirrel

(I'm sorry! Can I make it up to you?)

Addendum! The One-Minute Writer has a prompt today to write from the perspective of an inanimate object! Great minds!

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I'm Getting Published!

Ok, not really.

But I do have an article getting printed in the MOM's Club newsletter, and that's a start. You have to start somewhere. Though I don't think it's going to make Virginia Quarterly come begging. I guess you never know.

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Blogging: A New Way of Life!

I've recently come under the spell of the latest affliction to hit Moms, Dads and the general population everywhere. And I do mean everywhere--the UK, Spain, Portugal, Hong Kong and Ireland are just a few of the places I've visited.. and been visited by. I recently started a new blog, which I’ve been keeping up daily: http://fingersandpaws.blogspot.com. Why, yes! Part of blogging is (shameless) self-promotion.

What is blogging and the blogosphere? The word originated from ‘web log’, or, from wikipedia: Blogosphere is a collective term encompassing all blogs and their interconnections. It is the perception that blogs exist together as a connected community (or as a collection of connected communities) or as a social network The typical blog involves daily (or regular) posts with day/time stamps, places for comments, archives and a recognizable structure.

It’s easy to start a blog. Many sites allow you to sign up for free. Blogger (www.blogger.com) is popular. You can also try www.wordpress.com, www.typepad.com, and, for more professional blogs, something like www.squarespace.com.

I’ll admit, the last thing any Mom needs is another addiction! But, there is so much good information that I thought I’d digest some of what I’ve found thus far. There is a blog for everything: antiques to natural parenting, dieting to kid yoga to gluten-free. Name it, you’ll find it! The unfair part of this? There are literally thousands of great blogs out there, and these just happen to be some that I have discovered. (Note: all addresses start with http://).

Directories list and classify blogs so that they may be found more easily, and many are dedicated to Mommy and women bloggers: MomDot.com, TheMomBlogs.com (Moms blogs, loosely organized by category)

: BlogHer.com, SecretIsInTheSauce.blogspot.com (Supportive blogger communities)

: Technorati (Very professional, “official” blog directory)

: Blogged (Also ‘official’, so to speak.)

So, what can you find out there? Cooking and recipe blogs are rampant, and for good reason. Check out foodie Chef E at cookappeal.blogspot.com, and hilarious Buffalo Dick at buffalodickdy.blogspot.com. Crockpot365.blogspot.com has a different crock pot recipe every day of the year (today: Orange-Apricot pork chops. Not your average crock pot lady here!)

Just interested in someone’s hilarious take on being a Mom? Mamakatslosinit.blogspot.com. Looking for gorgeous writing from a Dad? Irishgumbo.blogspot.com. I have a friend in real life that maintains a very funny Mommy blog, Interstitial-life.blogspot.com.

There is a plethora of product review blogs out there, mommainflipflops2.blogspot.com is just one (tons of giveaways, including Pedipeds recently.) There are also wonderful writing blogs, and I’ve become a loyal follower of two: The One Minute Writer (oneminutewriter.blogspot.com) and PicturesPoetryProse.blogspot.com provides photographic inspiration. I try to write on both daily. There’s also a 365sonnets.blogspot.com!

Really. You name it, and you’ll find it. If you’re looking for the kick in the pants to start writing (again, or for the first time,) blogging is an excellent outlet. The community of bloggers out there are wonderfully supportive, creative, self-effacing and dedicated. Oh, and most are busy, too.

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Snow in the Capitol

My version of Wordless Wednesday. (Not quite wordless, but as close as I get.) The view out my front door yesterday. Today, everything you see is one solid sheet of ice.. like thick ice. The kind you shouldn't drive on. It's very pretty, though. Which is why I snapped these. And also, it's like reliving your childhood when your child discovers snow for the first time. It is pretty cool stuff, all light and fluffy and melty.
Also, I will post the Ricki Lake story in a few days.. when I have time to [remember] write the whole story. (And no. I do not plan to scan in the pictures I have from that trip.)

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Killing Two Birds, Part 2

This works out perfectly, sometimes life is just like that. I was just tagged my good friend R. on facebook, for 25 Random Things about myself. This works out just perfectly, since Keely over at the Un-Mom also has Random Tuesday Thoughts. So, I did my homework, and I'm ready.


1. I have a serious [granola] bar addiction. Quaker Chewy, Nature Valley, Trader Joe's Choco, Trail Mix bars, you name it, I have to have it.

2. I was once on the Ricki Lake show.

3. I sing. All the time. Shower, car, changing the Bear, changing the radio station.

4. I'm a Liberal Catholic. They do exist.

5. We adopted two lab mixes when they were 8 months old, who had been left in a cardboard box. Someone moved out and left them.

6. I used to work on a football-field sized trading floor.

7. I have a secret crush on Matt Damon. But my husband knows about it. It's okay because they look alike.

8. I've been to Kevin Costner's ranch in Aspen. Twice.

9. My secret dream is to be a film director.

10. I own 5 pairs of jeans. Three were purchased in the last six months. The first step is admitting you have a problem.

11. I'm obsessive about nearly everything. Especially my hands being clean.

12. I love coffee. I hate flavored coffee.

13. I'm a night owl.

14. I hate mornings. See #13.

15. It snowed today.

16. I rarely stop talking.

17. I moved to Breckenridge, CO after college to be a ski bum for half a year.

18. I've run a Half-Marathon. Twice. If I could add it together, I'd brag about running marathons.

19. I'm a recycling addict. I buy things just to recycle them, then recycle things just to get them back.

20. I'm a craigslist addict. I've sold both a house and a car on craigslist.

21. I'm a freecycle addict. I've given away a lot of crap.

22. I might, if prompted, tell the story about #2.

23. I probably won't tell the story about #8.

24. I'm not good at keeping things to myself, so #23 probably isn't true.

25. I wonder how many people will make it to #25.

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Killing Two Birds, Part 1

As most of you out there in the blogosphere know, there lots of bloggy games (like reindeer games, but warmer.) I like them. Not only because it wards off writers' block before it occurs, not only because it's spontaneous and creative, but because someone asked you to do it! And if someone asks me to write something, it often follows that they will then read it. Parfait!

Twoday.. pun intended... I'm doing two for the price of one. High Heeled Mama, whom I know in real life, over at High Heels and High Chairs, tagged me for the bag game here. The bag game is great, it allows me to share a little story about what being a Mom is really about.

So, in that vein, here is the story. My mom got me a Coach bag for Mother's Day this year. It meant the world to me, because 1) I've never had a Coach bag before, nor have I ever owned a bag worth more than $40 (which was my last J.Crew Mom purse, that I called a "Mom purse" long before I was a Mom. Irony.) 2) It means I'm officially a grown-up. My son didn't do that. Just the Coach bag.

The problem is, I'm too disheveled and carrying too many things to carry anything more than one bag. Ergo, everything has been going in the Coach bag as late. This leads me to my humor.

This is my Coach bag:

This is my Coach bag on Crack:

Here are the rules:

1) Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you cannot go up to your closet and pull out that cute little purse you used back before you had kids. I want to know what you carried today.

2) I want to know how much it cost :) And this is not to judge. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, I'd love to hear it.

3) Tag some chicks. And link back to her post so people know why the heck you're showing everyone your diaper bag/non-diaper bag.

With that, I tag:

:: K over at Interstitial-Life. This is also a friend in real life, who has an amazing blog that you should check out. I have no clue what she is carrying these days but I do know she has her hands full with her little guy.

:: BigBi over at Songs in the Key of Kibi, another friend in real life. Really great blog, and a really cute kid! Though, she's been away, so not sure if she'll play.

:: Ditto for my pal at Isabel & Dudley; I hope she doesn't mind that I'm taggin' her! She's also a busy Mom, so I hope she finds time for the little game.

Remember to link back!

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Poetry by Air and Wine Music

To recap, I accidentally got drunk in First Class this past weekend, and, with the help of my iPod, cranked a few quickies that I'm willing to share.
(In the order they were written.)
==========================================================

Strange
Strangely becoming
Twisted fate
Bifurcated freedom
My calling
Do you hear it?
Our wandering
Do you fear it?
Meandering
Pandering
Emptied vessels of pleasure
And squandering
Every square inch of
Our landscape
Our life
One life

:: :: ::

It's ours to take
Mine - ours - to make
Do it for love
What was it that drove
Endless tomorrows in sight
Give us a chance, we might
Slow it down now
I'll show you how
Chase away the demons
I'll show you the reasons
And I promise
You'll want to try
(I know why.)

:: :: ::

Earthly pleasures
And luxuries
"Rules"
And guidelines
No longer apply
No restrictions
More addictions
From the sidelines
Blink! You might miss it
Reclining, fair dining
Darkness is coming to us.
From you
I take no chiding.

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Act Like You've Been There

"It's Like the Endzone." It's my husband's mantra. (He watches a lot of football.) It's a good one.

It can be applied to so many, many situations one finds oneself in, and allows for maintenance of a calm demeanor and appropriate reactions to things. Like you've been there.

Neither was the case for me on my flight on Friday night. Quick background: my husband is a consultant, and for a good while there, flew back and forth to clients, building up tons of miles on various and sundry airlines. So, he got some of that good ol' fashioned "status."

His "status" and my "genius" got married, and landed me in First Class for my flight down to Charlotte this weekend. First is not a big deal. You get a cushy seat, they look you in the eye, take your long coat from you to hang. No biggie.

Unless, of course, you are ME. And you decide to drink.

I'm not gonna go on and on about how it wasn't my fault. How she kept coming after me the ENTIRE (50 min) flight, smiling, pouring the Cabernet, or how irresponsible it is to drink before having dinner when you're a self-professed lightweight. But, when you get little time to yourself, another friend is on the plane, you're headed down to a bunch of girls you used to party with, oh and it's F-R-E-E, things happen.

It happened. I was hammered. I was crank my iPod, sing softly to myself, glare at the gentleman beside me, hammered. I was whip out my pen and paper to write poetry hammered. (Yes, I will share that in the next post.)

Embarrassing? Slightly (mostly for my friend.) Liberating? Absolutely. Who cares if it was a bottle of a cheap Cabernet that I'm pretty sure one other dude shared with me? I managed to get my roller suitcase out the overhead and didn't knock myself out, right? I coaxed a few smiles out of the Captain and my temptress flight attendant. That counts for something.

I then coaxed my friend into catching up with me once we arrived in the airport... and... Let's just end the story there.

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I Blog, Therefore I Am

I'm going away this weekend. Flying. Away. By myself. (And if you need a translation, that means no toddler in tow.) A friend of ours is pregnant in Charlotte and I'm flying to her baby shower, which I helped plan. I'm very proud of the favors I'm flying down with, because, unlike a lot of you blogging women out there, I am not a crafty person. Actually, the word gives me the jitters. I'm twitching now. It's difficult to type.

But I wouldn't let that stop me.

I feel like it's important to reflect, now and again, on new developments that go on in my life that dramatically change how I live, what I do daily, what I think about, and with whom I interact. So, I solemnly dedicate this Friday to: BLOGGING IS SO FLIPPING GREAT day.

We get to chat. We get to rant. We get to disguise rants as raves. We get to disguise rants as cute stories with happy endings. We get to talk about our amazing kids. We get to rant again.

There are so many things yet for me to learn. Like, what the hell is "trackback" and why do people do it? Why do people put their email addresses like fingersandpaws[at]gmail[dot]com? Did they suddenly forget how to puncuate? Are they using a European keyboard? Am I the only one who doesn't understand this oddity?

I'm still relatively new to this [daily] blogging thing, and I'm lovin' it. That was not a product placement there. I realize some blog for the fame->readership->AdSense->Money. Some blog to keep up with each other or family. Some to promote a product, or another blog. Some because there is not a single household chore to do or meal to make (wait a minute.) I appreciate all of that.

I blog because, I just can't shut up. No... really. As melodramatic as it sounds (and it will, just wait,) it's adding to my overall life experience.

And.... truth? (Finally!) Yes, it's improving my writing. And I do hope it leads to something else which leads to something else and I follow the yellow brick road to publication.

As our pediatrician once said (discussing how to get a 3-mo old to sleep)..... "It's good to have goals."

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