Country-can't-drive-in

Hey Erik - Country DriveIn is open!

My family decided to go there for dinner & icecream tonight.

Of course, everyone and I DO mean everyone else in a 150 mile radius had the same idea.... no parking to be had and the line was to the curb.

Phooey...but it's still spring!!

Spa Day for Emma

This is Emma. Isn't she just ADORABLE? She's just had a shampoo.

(My sister took this photo of her, and we have her mother's permission to use this picture in my blog. )

Emma weighs about one pound. The "towel" wrapped around her head is actually a washcloth.

I will be walking in the March of Dimes WalkAmerica 2006 on April 30. If you are reading this blog and actually DO know me in person, please sponsor me and make a donation to the March of Dimes! WalkAmerica supports research and programs to help prevent or treat premature birth, birth defects and other threats to babies’ health.

If you don't know the "real" me, please consider finding a walk in your neighborhood and joining in.

It's almost over

It's learning fair day! It's learning fair day! (Said in the tone of "the new phone book's here!" -- what movie was that from? It's driving me crazy.)

Normally I do not blog when I am trying to do silly things like get ready for work.

But when one is waiting for pictures of St. Michael's College to print, and one finds herself staring at the screen thinking "why did my kid wait until this morning to tell me the college women's basketball coach never wrote back to her, and she's the only one in her class who doesn't have something from a college in her state for her big white piece of posterboard?", well, one blogs. This one does, anyway.

The cookies are done, and delicious (we get to eat the "uglies" that didn't come out right). We have an outfit (you must dress as a famous person from your state. Do you realize how FEW famous people from Vermont there are? My daughter picked a pro golfer who "came out" a few years ago. I'm sure she's a wonderful woman. I fully support her right to BE who she is and admire her for trying to make the way easier for other people. But at the same time, I'm so glad my daughter didn't say "Mom, what does that mean?" because my daughter is "young" for her age and I don't think she's ready for that particular conversation yet.)

It could be worse. Daughter's best friend picked Oprah. Her father asked me how you dress up as Oprah when you are a little white Catholic school girl. I've got nothin'.

Oh, and the bug.

The bug is lovely. I'm sure you're all dying to see it. Here it is! Best part? I didn't have to do any of it. (Don't you love my kitchen floor? It looks clean. I'm keeping this picture forever.)


Later, kids!!

Cookies

Not the byte kind either... so far I have made 1/2 of the 75 cookies I need to make for the learning fair. Too much fun. The daughter is helping, but it's still a drag. They are delicious though. Her state is Vermont, so we made maple syrup cookies frosted with maple syrup/confectioner's sugar. I need to own a bakery. (with a fitness center built in.... you can only buy cookies if you walk on the treadmill while you wait in line...)

Sirius is keeping me sane. Yeah, I know, I'm going on and on too much about Sirius lately. But imagine you've eaten at McDonald's every day for lunch, and then someone takes you to a huuuuge buffet just across the street. It was right there all the time... Today I listened to Miranda Lambert (who I have heard of yes, Suzy is a big fan, but the more I hear of her the more I like) and Keith Anderson, who is also country, Nth degree / Morningwood, you have to hear if you haven't already, and then there is new stuff out by Keane, and Phil Vassar, and then I get into the old stations and start hearing stuff I used to love in high school... definitely putting me in a good mood these days.

If you can't tell I am in a GREAT mood today. One of the advantages of my job being a part-time position is that I get to leave at 2pm every day and enjoy the nice afternoons. Spring is here!!! Yay! My tulips have already been eaten but the daffodils and crocuses haven't been destroyed yet.

My best friend in England sent me this link to a story about blogs and how much time they waste over there surfing around the 'net. Nice to know it's not just us lazy crazy Americans!

Fabulous

Oy vey.

So a couple of years ago Suzy was dating a guy we will refer to as Fabulous. Because he REALLY thought that highly of himself.

(Side note... he was bald... when my son met him he stared for a while, then whispered "I'm really worried about your hair"... he couldn't wrap his brain around the idea that someone would shave their head by choice.)

Fabulous asked my sister to get a trailer hitch put on her new Jeep Liberty, because Fabulous had some sort of car that was too wussy enough to pull his jet ski around. So, he paid and she went to Uhaul and got a trailer hitch put on.

Bad, bad idea, almost as bad as dating Fabulous in the first place.

Lately Suzy's been having a leeeetle bit of trouble with her tail light burning out again and again. Then the other day her friend happened to be following her home from work and noticed that her lights were flickering oddly. "A." called Sue and said "are you tapping your brakes??" to which of course the reply was no.

Yesterday we took the Jeep over to the friendly dealership it came from, and hung around my house doing exciting things like napping, while the dealership checked out the situation.

Apparently whoever installed the wiring for the trailer hitch had done a pretty fabulous job indeed:


As you can see we very nearly had Jeep Flambee' - the box SMELLS like badly burned electrical crap. Awesome.

She has already called U-haul to have a little chat with them about quality workmanship. Stay tuned.

You have no idea

....unless you have small children, you have no idea how WONDERFUL it can be to take a 90 minute nap, in your own home, on a gray Saturday afternoon.

Today's adventures

First laugh of the morning:

I had a dream that this guy (I work with him) strolled into my cubicle followed by three brawny guys in white shirts and neckties (we are a business casual office so this is weird, and I didn't know them.) He proceeded to tell me that "That sister of yours needs to know that her Badonkadonk inspired a pretty big victory last night." The men were apparently somehow affiliated with basketball coaches from Duke, and they were not happy.

What? it could have happened.


Second laugh of the morning:

My arch nemesis sits right near me. We clash on a pretty frequent basis since he is incapable of properly using highly technical things like email and calendars and clocks. Today he was just about to walk into someone's cube, and as I walked up he stopped and said "Oh." like he'd just remembered something. Then as he was turning toward me, he mumbled "I'm an idiot." I was about two feet away and looking right at him so I just smiled sweetly, and said "Yeah, you are" and continued walking by.

All this before 9 a.m. ...life is good!

What does the sink look like?

You know, I could be cooking dinner.


I should be cooking dinner.


Instead I'm accidentally finding things like this which horrify and amuse me all at once.

Yes, that is a urinal.

Happy Thursday

This morning I walked into my son's room and he was holding an "air microphone" and was singing along to something on the radio. He was completely embarrassed, until I pointed out that I do that in the car, where people can laugh and point at me. And honk their horns.

Lost sucked last night. Very slow, very boring. You can skip an episode or two and still know pretty much exactly what's going on. It's like a third rate soap opera, with less sex. (I mean, Sun and Other Guy were in this gorgeous hotel room and they're practicing English? :::eyeroll:::) I'm done.

Unintentionally funny line of the day - my father telling me that at least his colonoscopy is behind him. I swear to you. There were more details about that offered up, despite me saying "TMI! TMI!" and blacking out in self defense. Here is an Actual Conversation About Sudoku:
"I've figured out the secret, if you add all of the numbers in a column it MUST total 45"
"Well, Dad, that's because you have to use each number from 1-9, only once"
"No, they have to add up to 45."

At this point I began googling Tahiti. (Only Suzy will understand that, but HI to all of her friends who are now visiting me!! Please donate to our escape, er, vacation fund.)

Could someone read this and tell me if it's useful? It's so long my eyes crossed just scrolling down through it.

I need a good nap.

In brief

I am trying to type this entry in seven minutes or less, as I have 10,000 other things I really really should be doing.

• Sirius is awesome. Get it. It's like having a kitchen full of every kind of food possible. No matter what you want, it's there.
• My son won a basketball trophy over the weekend. Today he gave it to me so that I could bring it to work and show my friends. I showed it to one friend so technically I did do what he asked. She was very kind and said "It's VERY nice." This is why she is my friend. She will put up with my annoying Kid things and not give me crap for it.
• My son's CYO basketball awards dinner is this Friday. He doesn't know it but he is getting the coach's award for his team(which equates to something like "... the kid on the team who is still a good sport despite falling a minimum of 3x per game and getting horrific rug burns each time he falls - he always gets back up and keeps playing and tries not to cry") I am excited because he is worried about being the only kid who doesn't get an award and I'm playing along saying things like "welll, only a few kids from each team will win something, so don't feel bad honey. You had a good season and did your best."
• I have this 4 PM meeting on Wednesday's that I am supposed to dial in to, to give a 5 minute update on certain projects. I can not get my head out of my posterior. I have missed this meeting twice in a row since I was assigned to do it. Damn. I have even set an alarm on my palm pilot and I didn't hear it go off today. Damn!!
• My cable's back so I can watch ::::gasp::: a new episode of Lost tonight. This is their last chance to keep me as a viewer. It better not suck.
• Time's up. Later, my dears.

A crumby thing

I am sad.

"Why are you sad, Carly?" you ask. Well, allright, you didn't exactly ask, but you're still reading, so...

This afternoon a bakery near my home burned down. This bakery is known to be nasty, ie, I have heard a few too many stories about cockroaches. I do not GO to said bakery to purchase food.

The ::::cough:::: grease ::::cough:::: bakery fire was apparently quite large and has somehow knocked out my cable. Something about specific telephone poles and burning and so on. The funny part is that we can see the digital channel guide, but we tune to a channel and there's nothing there.

Nothing!

I. Have. No. Cable. TV. Channels. Pass me a paper bag, please.

I need to watch Amazing Race. Daughter needs to watch Idol.

We are sad.

Oh, I know, we could play a charming board game together. We could play cards. I could read my darling babies a story. Pffft.

I want my MTV.

The EFF-ing Learning Fair, part 495

I swear, the teachers all get together in the faculty lounge and have a good laugh at us parents.
They dole out assignments for the annual learning fair, sit back, and snicker, knowing the kids won't do the work all by themselves.

This year my son's class is learning about the rain forest. Frankly, I'm just about at the point where I'll cut it all down myself. I have things to do. Phone calls to make. And yet, we had to do research, do reports, and make a "creature" from the rain forest. This creature.

Using ONLY things that come from the rainforest.

Yes, read that back and mull it over. You are supposed to use materials that come from the rain forest(s).

(Is that singular? Is there one big rain forest, or are there a few forests? Shouldn't I know that? I was so embarrassed. I had to ask the kids. At least they both new, that yes, there is more than one rain forest. My tuition is not entirely being thrown away. I am learning too! Pfft. )

Anyway, a block of styrofoam does NOT come from the rain forest(s). Neither does playdough. You know what comes from the rain forest? Food.

Coffee, cinnamon, nuts, fruits and various other things that will certainly be completely funky a week and a half from now if they are used to build said bug.

So, we were contemplating how to build a bug yesterday afternoon. There was fighting, and whining and crying, but my sister got me to stop.

Off went the Mr. and the Son to the store, with a plan I didn't understand about foam rubber and bamboo.

Because, you see, they were on the list.

This is what we have so far...

It's going to be spray painted black, because we got lucky and "paints and lacquers" are on The List.

*Hot glue is probably not on the list. (This fact would explain why I burned my finger on the hot glue gun. It's all about Karma.)

Office gossip

Sigh, real life has intruded on my blogging. Pffft.

But if you're a fan of "the Office" check this out

Only 45 fat grams

A whopping 1000 calories. Read about this beauty here - yes, it is a burger on a doughnut.

Kinda makes my toasted subway sub dinner (ham, turkey, bacon & provolone) sound downright healthy huh? (Yes, I know it's Friday and I shouldn't have had meat. Shhhhhh. If there's an exception for corned beef, well really the whole thing is silly.)

A few quick comments:

• I am fed up with Lost. DONE! More reruns from last year?? Enough.
• Sirius is fantastic. But don't put Kelly Clarkson or Sting on your S-Seek list, or your radio will beep every 3 minutes. (S-Seek tells you when your favorite artists are on and takes you to that channel, if you hit a certain button when the radio beeps)
• My son saw the new Tim Allen movie, then called me and barked like a dog. Man I love him.

Sure can steal your heart away

Am I crazy to blog this? Maybe. It is very personal... but it's been on my mind more and more every day this week, and I thought maybe it would help to just write the words, and let them go.

Years ago, I had a miscarriage. I wasn't very far along - I just starting to let a few friends know that I was expecting, but really hadn't told many people.

One day in late July, my pregnancy slipped away from me, before I even could truly understand what was happening to me. I remember standing at the photocopier, and feeling one sharp cramp; things happened from there, and after a night spent in a room in the maternity ward, it was over. I didn't realize. thought that I was still pregnant, just spotting, and it wasn't until after an ultrasound the next morning that the doctor told me there was no more baby.

The due date I had been given was St. Patrick's day. I had visions of a tiny baby with fire-red ringlets, given that my husband is Irish.

He didn't stay overnight with me that night in the hospital, because I told him to go home. I guess he didn't understand that I didn't really mean it, that I knew the chair was uncomfortable and he couldn't sleep in it, but I wanted him to climb into bed with me. I didn't tell him. It's not his fault. I've never really been good at telling people what I'm truly feeling. I give the answers that I feel like I'm supposed to give. So, he wasn't there with me when the doctor gave me the news. It's not his fault.

While I waited for him to come to take me home, I watched through my open doorway as a woman across the hall arranged her gifts and flowers and balloons and bundled up everything to go home with her baby. It's an unbelievably cruel irony that all too often when you are miscarrying, you are in the part of the hospital with the women who HAVE made it to the finish line. I was too numb and cold to cry.

My mother later tried to comfort me by telling me that maybe I hadn't even been pregnant; I know she meant well, but... not only was my baby gone, now I felt like I was supposed to just forget that he or she ever existed, and that just hurt too much. I'd already had a blood test, so I knew I WAS pregnant at one point. It seemed so useless to debate the issue.

I've tried to put it all behind me. Most of the year, I don't think about this. It seems like it happened in another life, and I guess in a way it did. But the shamrocks, they get to me every year. I feel as though it was only yesterday.

I did go on to have two children, of course. We waited a couple of months, and after a few heartbreaking months of no success, I conceived again. I was blessed with healthy babies. In my heavy heart I know the logical reasons why I might have miscarried. First pregnancy sometimes means hormones not quite all ramped up for the task, or there was a "problem" of some sort. Who knows? Every minute of the first four months of my next pregnancy I was terrified, and I couldn't even really enjoy it. I was almost five months pregnant before I dared wear a single maternity outfit.

I know that I'm lucky to have my children - I know that. It was SO long ago. I do know that. But when St. Patrick's day rolls around, I still can't help but think of it as that baby's birthday, and miss him or her just a little...

I guess I'll never completely escape those feeling, of longing to know that child. Wondering, what he or she would be like.

Onnn, Aaaaim onnn

Today's adventure started at 7:14 a.m. when we arrived at Dr. Friendly Oral Surgeon's office.

Since my children's teeth just DON'T fall out, like, I don't know, normal kids, we go to see him every now & then as the orthodontist dictates. So far I think at least a dozen of my kids' teeth have met their fates in his chair. I have the bills to prove it. ( I could have gotten more than one S-50, but that's beside the point.)

He's a really wonderful man- in his waiting room he proudly displays plaques & photos from his trips to Honduras to provide dental care for patients there as part of some children's charity. A kind, friendly man who wants to make this as easy as possible for scared little kids, and show them that it's not so bad, really, so that each time gets less stressful, instead of more.

We get to go there at a ridiculously early hour because kids can't eat for 6 hours before they get teeth yanked.

Here's about how it goes:

• First step - drink the kiddie version of valium, mixed in with apple juice. This is so that you can't run away. Heh... gotcha now.
  
• After you start to fade just a little , you get to go sit in The Big Chair and breathe in some "nice" air for a few minutes. I wonder if I can get that hooked up at my desk. Some days I could really use a little breath or two of "nice" air.
  
• Then Dr. FOS puts novocaine on your gums "so that your teeth go to sleep". Sleep? I think they've been sleeping. Just wake them up. Get them doing something, so that maybe they'll fall the hell out on their own.
  
• The preliminaries take much longer than the actual extractions, which take about 1 minute each despite the fact that he has to stand on my baby's chest with a giant pair of pliers to yank these suckers out....Note, they are too big for the Tooth Fairy cases (the Tooth Fairy is broke anyway because she has to leave $250 at Dr. FOS's office... man I hate my dental insurance)
  
  

• He packs the gaping holes with gauze, which my son promptly starts to chew, generating profuse amounts of drool, and triggering a mini panic attack in me because I just know he's going to swallow that gauze. I feel it in my bones.



• Then we get to bring Spaghetti- legs to the car, (or "my little drunken sailor" as I refer to him) and go home.

After I have thrown out my back hoisting him from the wheelchair into the explorer (duh, note to self: bring car next time, so that we can just sort of tip him in) we are on the way home. I get to sit in the back with him so I can deal with lovely messy things like barfing. It's always hysterically funny. (Yes, I am saving up for him to get therapy someday, why do you ask?) The funny thing is not the barfing. I'm not that mean. It's the little glimpses of what's going on in his mind.

Bear in mind he had a mouthful of gauze, he was numb from novocaine, and stoned on the little kids' version of valium they pass out. First he mumbled "rollercoaster" a little bit while I was switching his gauze. (His nasty, drool filled.... oh, sorry.)

Then he asked me why I have two heads. I caught that despite the fresh gauze stuffed in his mouth because I remember him asking me "eye ooo haaa ooo ess? " last time. I have asked myself that same question SO many times. Why DO I have two heads?

He started asking me "unh I waaaah aim onnn ? " over and over. I tried "what, buddy?" twice and then took out my palm pilot and brought up the notepad (shut up, I was desperate because he asked me over and over... I knew it wouldn't work...) This is what he wrote for me:

Note that he DID write "007' -- twice, he just wrote it backwards, that's all -- but he underlined it. I see 007. Catch a clue, mom. "Can I watch James Bond?"

Well, we got him home, brought him in to my bedroom and got James fired up on the dvd player. The last highlight of our adventure was getting his hooded sweatshirt off. His hooded sweatshirt which has gotten too tight, causing it to get STUCK on his head. Picture if you will, an intoxicated kid on a virtual rollercoaster, who can't find his way out of his own sweatshirt, and has someone pulling at it.

My poor baby. (snicker). Big fun. All before 9 a.m. Do I know how to partay or what??

Sirius-ly

Fifth grade joke for today:
How do you know an ocean is friendly?
It waves.

Hey. I've gotta hear them, you've gotta read them.

****

So, I recently came into a little bit of spend-only-on-Carly money, and decided to get Sirius. A coworker of mine got it for Christmas and she loves it. (Tania has the top of the line receiver, the S-50 which can store up to 50 number of hours of music. Damn, child free people always get the best toys.) She's been urging me to get into the new millenium so I decided to splurge.

I picked out the Starmate last week, because I can get it with a car kit and a home kit and it has some good features. I thought maybe I could pick it up in person over the weekend. Hahaha... that didn't happen. Got home last night, went online to order it.... and the home kit is sold out.

Everywhere.

I'm sure that what happened is that everyone got a receiver, plus a car kit, plus one home kit for home, and one for their office. Everyone except ME that is.

:::pout::::

So once my receiver arrives, I'll be working from my car for the next couple of weeks, parked outside of some Starbucks that has a strong enough wireless internet.

****

In the meantime, I'm still listening to Iceberg Radio - good songs today (artist/track/album) include:

• jason mccoy / still / sins, lies and angels
• odds / someone who's cool / nest
• jacynthe / look who's crying now/ seize the day
• boomtang / moving on / wet
• krysta scoggins / run run run / (single)
• delerium feat. sarah mclachlan/ silence / karma

Yes, sort of

Today I took B. out shopping for an Easter outfit. She suckered me into two outfits, not just one, because we have some other things coming up too that she can use this extra cute outfit for, and she wanted this gauchos, and hell I wore gauchos when I was her age, and can you believe they're back? I also bought her shoes which bring her approximately up to My. Eye. Level.

Just one :::cough::: small problem.

When we got HOME she decided the shoes didn't really fit. Because, you see, her feet probably grew in the car on the drive home.

She shared this little problem with Mr. C before mentioning it to me. He pointed out to her that it was good she figured this out today, rather than on Easter. Her response was quite pragmatic....

"I'd be screwed."

Burn, Baby

Club Burn makes me happy.

Quite simple, really. I love to dance while listening to loud music. If I go to a "real" club these days, I feel rather stupid since it's mostly rap music, and I'm old enough to have given birth to almost every other person in the room. I stand there wondering if someone is snickering at me. As for the music, I like rock better; I like many different types of music but not really most rap.

When I go to see the Burners , it's all different. They rent out a banquet house for a month o' Fridays & Saturdays and call it Club Burn. There are still younger people there, but also plenty of people my age and beyond. It's nice not being the oldest one in the room.

Last night Suzy kidnapped my from my blissful world of puking children with overdue homework and forced me to got to Club Burn with her and stay for the entire two sets. "This is for your own good" she said sternly. No, I'm kidding. I was just happy that she didn't conk out --people who work nights never really get enough sleep and sometimes when we try to sneak away she winds up with that glazed look in her eyes all too soon.

One of the advantages of NOT being the oldest person in the room is that once in a while I get to snicker quietly at someone 5-10 years older than me who is just trying a little too hard... sequin-y top and hair teased to an inch of its life, always with a martini, (I'd like to thank the bitch who poured hers down my arm because she was so drunk she was waving it around... nice way to waste $6 honey...) arms way up in the air with vivid "I'm dancing, I'm out with the girls dancing!!" faces. I prefer to get my limited funk on a little bit more quietly, and it was jeans, a vaguely in-style cute shirt, and Coors lite in a can for me (sponsor of the event, whatever, beer was fine for me last night)

So there I was beer in hand, riiiight up next to the speakers, (I am so deaf right now) totally forgetting about all of the "junk" in my life. It's great to watch this band because they're obviously having SO much fun while they perform.

They mostly sing 70's/80's/90's sort of hits. Car Wash. Brown Eyed Girl. Roller coaster of love. Get up (James Brown) They dusted off a KISS tune(I want to rock & roll all night). A little Tom Petty, a little Steve Miller. Billy Joel (Italian Restaurant) Good fun. The sax player is excellent and really makes some of the songs like the Joel stuff that they cover. The lead singer is a real live wire and always seems to talk about places I remember going to when I was in college... the Rafters, Sneaky Petes (the original),.... so it's all good.

At one point they played Amazing Grace. Now, I know all 3 of you, my darling readers, are saying "WTF, Carly? Amazing Grace??" I wouldn't have thought that it would work either, but it did. The keyboard player started with this intense electronic piano version, with lights, smoke, etc (the other players were probably grabbing a beer...) then Jay, the lead singer, sang one verse, and then the trumpet player played a verse as a solo. You probably had to be there, but it worked. The crowd loved it.

I may be able to sneak back next week....shhhhhhh

A Few Things

Things I didn't want to read this on the Grey's Anatomy writers blog....

• (a recent post explaining that the cute bomb squad guy is really dead)
• (any mention of George, Meredith, and the coupling of same)
• and I quote: "McSteamy is indeed hot. And yes, there is the possibility for a return visit sometime - but the deal was this: he asked Addison to meet him at the bar and come home to NY with him. And Addison didn't show. So Mark went home to NY alone. Sad but true."

Damn!! First they kill off Hot Bomb Squad Guy, now this. But I need to read that blog sometimes to "get" a particular scene(what the writers were actually trying to do with it). Sooo.

Things I do every Lent:

• say that I am giving up Coke and mess that up almost immediately. Although, I read recently that it's just about as bad for you as a cigarette. I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of the article, and the association I hope to form in my mind to quit it once and for all. (I drink way too much of that stuff.)
• forget that the kids need something new for Easter (gotta get outfits for the kids nowwww before they are all picked over - I am probably too late)
• spend hours and hours rehearsing and singing; by Easter morning frankly I am almost sick of those particular songs
• skip confession (shhhhhh.....)

Carded

I haven't made many cards lately, just the occasional one for a special person now & then.



This one was for a woman I've worked with for many many years, who just turned 60, which is hard to believe if you know her. She certainly doesn't act "old", she's a blast to have around.

I call her "Momma" (as in, walking into her office we greet each other with 'yo, Momma', it's a mutual greeting) and every now & then we talk about the fact that she's my mother's age, but the two women are very different in that the birthday girl loves to travel and head up to the racino and any number of other things like that, and my mother is more of a homebody.

Birthday girl took herself (along with some family) to Hawaii when she turned 50. I think I need to do that. Pack up, Sue!!

The tip of the Iceberg

If you have a fairly fast internet connection, check out iceberg radio .

Unlike yahoooooo radio, there are no annoying commercials and I didn't have to PAY anything.

The "about us" page says that IcebergRadio.com is owned and operated by Standard Interactive, a division of Standard Radio Inc, the largest privately owned broadcast company in Canada. It also confirms that it is FREE. Yeah!(There are Dell ads all over this site, so watch where you click.)

If you create a password you can save a list of your favorite stations. (They've got categories, rock - pop - country - alternative/indie - dance/electronic - urban/r&b - metal - folk - blues jazz - soul/funk - reggae - world - classical - nostalgia , and time capsules: 50's 60's 70's 80's & 90's - and these categories all have multiple stations. )

Now, one thing I liked about Yahoo radio was that if I was hearing someone I didn't like, I could click a button saying "never play this artist", or conversely, set the person as a "favorite artist", etc. That functionality doesn't seem to be present here. But so far I've listened all day and been pretty excited about the variety of music available.

The interface could use a little bit of work - the pop-up window that shows what station/ song I'm currently listening to takes up FAR too much room on the screen and can't be resized. When I minimize it, I can only see what station is playing when I hover over it, and not the artist/ song title. I think I might not be doing something exactly right because it seems like it's supposed to work with windows media player. So, I'll ask my friends who are smarter than me... or give their tech support team a whirl.

Anyway, check it out... enjoy... tell them Carly sent you. Maybe I'll get a month free or something. Hahaha. (Listen, if you were home with a sick kid that joke would be funny, trust me.)

Bunny movies

Since I have not really recovered from Shartfest 2006 (neither has my son, and now my daughter implies she may be waiting in the wings for her turn), I don't really have anything else to write about for you. But I'll be working on a piece featuring Match.com do's & dont's courtesy of Sue, once things settle down here.

SO in the meantime, please just watch a movie or something.

Here: Brokeback Mountain in 30 seconds.

Another

..thing that is Not Really Funny but makes me laugh anyway:

the "Runaway Bride Any Similarity to Actual Persons is Unintended and Purely Coincidental" bobblehead doll

Sorry, not available for sale. Except maybe on Ebay.

(Frankly, I would REALLY prefer a Dwight Schrute bobblehead but those aren't available - yet)

Someday I'll learn

Ok, you know what? After today, I DO want my money back.

"today" started just after midnight when I got home from the gala and checked on my son before I went to bed -- while leaning over to kiss him, I wondered what he ate while I was out, because he had apparently passed some serious gas. He's only 8 so I was surprised and thought it was funny.

On looking back, I realize that the alarm was ringing, but I didn't hear the bell. Silly me, wanting to go to sleep.

This morning I walked in the bathroom to take a shower. I faintly smelled something rather "off" again, but I wasn't quite awake. Had to go to church, etc. So, I didn't investigate.

My son was eating breakfast when I walked out into the kitchen. Now, you have to promise to NEVER speak to him of this, please. He doesn't know his mother's blogging it for all 5 of her readers. ;-)

He got up and jogged into the bathroom and then I heard that dreaded "Mommmmmm?" that tells you Something Is Wrong.

Mr. C ventured in (knowing that no kid who calls Mommmm ever really wants Dad, but sometimes Mommy is hiding under the kitchen table and it's easier to go yourself than to listen to the kid call over and over) and made the discovery that apparently Son had been peeing, and let a fart rip, ... and shit all over himself and his pajamas.

Yeah.

THAT is parenthood, the most glamorous of vocations. Put your cereal spoon down, go into the bathroom where your child is crying and wash goopy stuff out of your kid's jammies while you both assure him that Mommy Is Not Mad, It's OK and We Will Fix It.

Wash your hands 50x with antibacterial soap and think about how you are no longer hungry. Aspire to this, people! It is a noble goal to humble yourself and serve your children in this way. Or it is the sheer insanity of not thinking through that nooky under the christmas tree and what it will cost you for 18 years?

After church laundry time rolled around. Back in the main bathroom again, I yanked open the door to the closet where I keep the big laundry basket, and almost fell over.

More poop.

Only this was clearly poop from last night.

After a few rounds of Please TELL Us What Happened Because We're Not Mad, we determined that he shat himself during the night also, got up all alone in the dark, stripped THOSE pajamas off, and put them in the laundry hamper(I swear to you this is the only time this year he's taken an item of clothing off of his body and put it into the hamper).

Inspection of his sheets... well, you know what I found. More skids and more weeping. Not him, me.

I'm guessing the mini explosion happened before I got home, and by kissing him goodnight I disturbed him enough that he eventually got up a little while later. See, you shouldn't kiss your kids goodnight. No, I'm kidding.

Someday I'll learn that if I don't listen to that little alarm bell I'll be sorry.

An Evening in Paris

My nephew has been living with epilepsy for at least the past five years. (He's 11.) My brother in law is co-chair of a dinner to benefit an epilepsy foundation in this area, and the dinner always features a dessert table like the one shown above (that's this year's, the theme was An Evening in Paris and you can see the ice sculpture is the Eiffel tower).

The table is loaded with chocolate desserts of every kind. I really mean it, EVERY kind imaginable. Mousses and tortes and petit fours ... well, you get the idea.

The funny thing is that I really don't LIKE chocolate all that much. I like strawberries dipped in chocolate. I like a little square of very good chocolate now & then.

I amuse myself by watching the other guests at this dinner. Wealthy, fabulous beautiful people RUSHING to get into line and nearly panick stricken that the particular gob of chocolate they had their eye on will be snapped up by someone else. Honestly, you'd think that chocolate was becoming extinct.

I get a little bit queasy watching people walking around with three or four huge slabs of chocolate-y things mounded on their tiny little dessert plates.

There is always more than enough to go around, with plenty of slices of various cakes still left over. Later in the evening the scavengers get pieces of foil from the kitchen and creep around the table, scooping up the bedraggled remnants of cakes. I saw one woman who had somehow gotten the kitchen to give her THREE of the boxes that the desserts had been delivered in. Get out much??

I don't wait in line, (I go up to the table a few minutes later) but I always manage to get a few strawberries and a slice of plain cheesecake that has somehow found its way onto the table (donated by someone who knew that there would be SOMEONE like me at the dinner who didn't want the other stuff)- thank you, whoever you are!

Another tale of Sue

Red. Blue. Pretty easy for most people to tell apart. Right?

One tail light on Suzy's jeep was out, and so she went to an auto parts store to get a new bulb. Not like the time her Explorer had a tail light out, so she traded it in and bought a new car. (No, I'm kidding. It needed some other work too. But it was fun when we told our mother that, just to see her reaction.)

She needed a red 10 amp fuse. Dumb Boy at the parts store gave her a blue 15 amp. (or vice versa. Does it matter?) D'oh! The fuse he replaced wasn't even in the right slot.

I'm sure he was just distracted by the badonkadonk.

Badonkadonk this

I loves me some Trace Adkins. Especially "Chrome".

He's going to be singing in town and a radio station had this contest based on his current single, Honky tonk Badonkadonk. If you've never heard it, it's about men in a bar admiring a girl's backside. (You can hear it, it's # 11 here or read the lyrics here.)

By the way, if you're annoyed by the idea of a man admiring an attractive lady's backside, A) it's Trace Adkins, singer of "one hot mama", so what do you expect?? B)get over it please, and C) just find that little "next blog" up in the upper right of this screen.

So anyway the idea of the contest was to send a picture of your badonkadonk in, to win front row tickets. My beautiful sister offered me the suggestion that surely a photo of her badonkadonk would win tickets for me to see Trace. She works nights and is sleeping when most people are up and about, but we worked out that I would go over yesterday and take a picture or two for her to send in.

Problem: we were one day too late. The web page said by 2/28 and I thought that we could send it in on the 28th before, who knows, 5PM or whatever, but lo and behold, on the morning of 2/28 the link was gone. Losers! Put a damn time and some more specific entry rules! Geez.

These are the pathetic losers who did get their entries in on time. (Try that link, but if it's gone click on this thumbnail. There's a couple that are worthy, and most of them are BAD. )

Without further ado, I give you the picture that SHOULD have won. Would have won.

Don't you think she would have COMPLETELY won this contest?

Is it weird that her own sister is blogging this? Does any red-blooded American man reading this right now really care if I'm weird or not??

(She does read this blog. Just sayin'. Be nice. And yes she is single, but morons need not apply. I am the screening committe, and today I am cranky. Be warned. But be nice and maybe she'll mail you the OTHER version of this picture, which includes her cowboy hat.)

Merry Christmas, boys. Slap your grandma.