School's Out for Summer...

I think Will may be old enough for me to introduce Alice Cooper's anthem to him at last! School is out as of 11:55 this morning. PS139 was a mass of swarming humanity - it was crazy!


Took Will and George, his buddy, along with George's little sister and Alex, to McDonald's in Forest Hills and then Barnes & Noble. Holy crap, it's hot. I think I sweated off a pound (from my lips to God's ears) just waiting on the 20-minute line at McDonald's. Yes, you read that right. George's mom, Theresa, and I were on line for 20 minutes. Take that fact as a testament to the love I hold for my children. Points be damned, by the time I got to the counter I was famished so I treated myself to a BLT Ranch chicken sandwich and a LARGE iced coffee. (How awesome is it that McDonald's has iced coffee now?)



Will and George chose the same books - maybe a summer reading book club? - Dracula vs. Grampa at the Monster Truck Spectacular and The Day My Butt Went Psycho. I love my son.

I feel the need to pull a descriptive quote from The Day My Butt Went Psycho, which could possibly be my favorite title of all time: "the story of a brave young boy and his crazy runaway butt... It's a story you and your butt will never forget!"






And as for Dracula vs. Grampa: "Grampa and Wiley meet Colonel Dracula, whose primo vampire truck turns out to feed on some pretty sinister "gas".

I think I see a pattern in my son's reading habits.

I Knew It All Along!




You are "Kraft Macaroni and Cheese". You cost a little more,
due to your promotional shapes and packaging, but the kids
won't stand for less. You try and be individual in
spite of this though. You prefer to be called "Cheese and
Macaroni" thank you very much.

Take the What Kind of Macaroni and Cheese Are You? Quiz

Created by LJ User RobProv222

E-mail newsletters

Why do I automatically sign up for e-mail newsletters that I know I'll never read? It's like I get seized by the moment and say, "Yes! I will want to read about this from 25 different sites at least once a week!" And 110 e-mails in my inbox later, I want to scream. Stop the madness!

Prevention published an article for me!

This article could have been written just for me... now I just have to convince my boss of the veracity and importance...

Ta-Da! New Phone!

Stacey's blog post about her new phone prompted me to post a picture of mine. Because in the comments section of the blog, the URL didn't post right.

So here it is - my pretty pink RAZR that Mike is convinced I will break ever since the guy in the cell phone store emphasized how fragile they are. Like I'm throwing it down a flight of stairs.

Just as long as neither Alex nor Will (dear God, especially not Alex) get a hold of it, I'm safe.

This is Why We Love DiscoveryChannel.com

Even the animal world has its fart jokes:

June 20,2006 — Norwegian killer whales slap their tails underwater to disorient and kill herring, which sometimes defend themselves from the assault by disappearing under the cover of their own bubbly flatulence, according to a new study.

The study is one of two papers presented at the recent Acoustical Society of America Meeting in Rhode Island that addressed some of the clever techniques whales employ to catch their dinner.

While whales often are successful, some herring escape. The study's authors perhaps say it best: “Farting may save their lives.”

Hump Day

Wednesday... Hump Day... getting over the hump of the week, it's smooth sailing from here. BLEAH.

No good magazines yet. I finally got my Marie Claire in the mail, at least two weeks after it's been on the newsstand - explain to me how it's more effective to have a subscription?

Worked out this morning. Denise Austin is much happier than anyone before 10 a.m. and two cups of coffee should be. As much as I actually do like the workouts (I watch her shows on Lifetime - yes, you read that right, I watch something on "The Network for Women" - they also show Will & Grace reruns, so stop mocking me) sometimes I feel like I'm watching a 30-minute commercial for her products. She hawks her new line of workout clothing for Sears during the workout - I'm trying to achieve Zen and thin thighs, lady! Her commercials for Oster and her latest food product zip by as I fast-forward (what did I do before DVR?) to continue the workout. Denise, you're killing me.

Gilad just scares the crap outta me. He yells at me! "Thank you for trusting me with your BODY!" Um... go away? Trusting you with my body, that sounds like a lot of commitment. Just show me how to sculpt my abs. Sharon Mann is like watching the Energizer Bunny work out, and Caribbean Workout just irritates me because they're always in such perfect sync. I just want to see someone trip. So while FitTV started out promising, it's really just ended up back to me and Denise.

But if it's yoga we're talking about, Sarah Ivanhoe is the person to watch. I've got both of her yoga workouts from All Star Workouts on DVD and when I have the 45 minutes to spend, I'm there. I also have a DVD of hers that has two workouts that are challenging and relaxing.

Wow, I totally did not intend to post about working out, but there it is. Now I can nap.

How we suffer for beauty...

Just got back from having my brows and lip done at the threading place nearby. Now don't get me wrong, as grooming goes, in my humble opinion, threading beats out waxing by a mile - the finish is so much cleaner, more defined - but sweet bird of youth, why does it have to sting like that?

I know some, like my darling hubby, would say, "Why do you have to DO things like that? Why would you pay to have someone yank the hair out by the root from your face like that?" And time and again, I respond, "Because I choose not to look like a cavewoman." I'm from frickin' French stock, for crying out loud - I know what happens when I let things go.

Pour hot wax on the most tender areas of our bodies? Sure, bring it on! (Just not the face, please - it's a threading-only zone.) Take a razor blade and attack our extremities every three days? Have you seen the weather outside? Of course, it's time for skirts and strappy sandals!

I'm not complaining - but man, it does take some intestinal fortitude to be a gal these days.

Slapstick is Funny!

So we're watching the commercial for Nacho Libre the other night and during the clip where the bull tosses Jack Black into the air, I let out a giggle. Mike mentions that I love pain and suffering. Hardly.

Slapstick is funny stuff, people. Three Stooges? Grew up on 'em. Dodgeball? Give Rip Torn a wrench and the line, "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball!" and I'm off the couch. In real life we'd be horrified, but it's a movie and it's a comedy for a reason - it's so outlandish, it's hilarious.

No, I do not find human suffering funny - well, maybe Mike's once in a while, but he's my husband so it's expected. But on the big and small screens, a banana peel and a running waiter go a looong way.

Bleah.

I'm sleepy. And under-caffeinated. I think I need to put up some water for coffee.

Will wants to watch Bruce Almighty, so I have to cue up the DVD. I tried to convince him that Dodgeball was funnier, but he wants to see Jim Carrey walk on water. I told him that Rip Torn throwing wrenches at people is far more amusing, but he's having none of it.

Kids.

By the Way...

It's almost 11 a.m., and I have yet to do anything productive. In the workplace, I mean. I've moderated my ClubMom forum, posted to this blog and Domestic Goddesses (mm... tostones...) and checked out who's going to be in Spider-Man 3 so far. Oh, and I've hit the Sisterhood's blogs, checked in with TheSuperficial and GoFugYourself.com.

So I guess I've actually been pretty productive so far. Now I feel better.

Domestic Goddesses, Assemble!

I realize that the little Domestic Goddesses blog has been neglected. So I started posting some mroe recipes there, and maybe I'll throw in some amusing anecdotes about my daily struggle to keep my apartment clean (despite living with two children, some fish, a cat and a husband). Are my other Domestic Goddesses doing anything interesting that you'd like to share?

We had Will's celebratory weekend this past weekend, taking him to see Cars which was very cute, but at 117 minutes, a bit long for a kids' movie. Alex was very rambunctious. If you go, stick with the movie through the credits. Pixar always throws fun stuff in at the end. Larry the Cable Guy was hilarious as Mater, Owen Wilson was lots of fun as Lightning McQueen, and Paul Newman was sweet and gruff as Doc Hudson. We also had a pizza lunch and he got a video game from us and from my mom, so I think he's pretty happy with life as he knows it. ;-)

Alex is determined to ride out the 'Terrible 2s' to its bitter end, with a lovely screaming fit in Bed Bath & Beyond yesterday. Sigh... serenity now... He did some yoga poses with me yesterday - now, if only the Zen bit would kick in for him!

It's definitely a 3-cup of coffee morning. And I've only had 2. Bleah.

By the way, Will ROCKS.

Just wanted to crow about Will, who's been invited into the Kappa program at his school for next year, which is a beginning level gifted class. They have the same curriculum as the rest of the classes but it's accelerated and enriched. He really kicked butt this school year, and this invitation is just the culmination of it. I'm so proud of him that I had to mention it here, because I know he'll also dig seeing his name in print. I'm sure I'll have to have a whole photo session to commemorate this, because he's also a camera hog. Hey, it's his moment in the sun, he's earned it.

And, giving equal time here, Alex has taken it upon himself to count on his own when we read his favorite counting book, Teeth Tales and Tentacles. He can get up to 10 before veering off into his own numerical system ("10, 14, 12, 18, 20! I did it!") so he's quite pleased with himself.

Magazine-less...

So after a rain-soaked run to B&N yesterday, I came back empty-handed. I saw no magazines that demanded I purchase them immediately, no matter how much I wandered through the racks.

Vogue Knitting? Still too intimidating at this fragile juncture of my knitting career. Creative Knitting? Wasn't feeling the pattern love. Knit.1? It's become horribly disappointing after the first two issues. Cutting Edge? Still not sure whether or not to commit to that many craft projects that will fall by the wayside.

Natural Health? I couldn't decide whether or not to buy it. Which probably means I'll get it this weekend. The yoga magazines (except for YogaLife, which I already have) are all too Zen for me at the moment. I can't contort myself that deeply yet, I'm lucky I can get both feet on the ground for a downward facing dog.

Saw a somewhat promising one, SheKnows, that seems like another entry into the health/wellness/fitness foray. I've been hemming and hawing for at least two weeks on this one, maybe I should just buy the damned thing.

I think I suffer from a surfeit of choice. Life was good when there was Prevention for Health and Glamour for everything else, but now there's 80 different magazines on every subject. You know I melt down when faced with big decisions, and at $5-$6 a pop, buying a magazine is becoming a big frickin' decision.

I'm meeting my mother for lunch today. I can't go back in there, or the BN security people will think I'm casing the joint.

Oh, and did 45 minutes of yoga again today. Serenity Now!

I'm in a Magazine-y Mood.

Ever get like that? When you just want to buy all these magazines, lock yourself in your apartment with the hot (or cold) beverage of your choice and read magazines?

I'm in that mood. I feel like wandering down to B&N and just gorging myself. The problem is, most mags are like $5-$6 a pop. If I spend $50 on magazines, I will smack the crap out of myself.

Maybe one. Or two? I can stop at 3. I'm sure.

Crap. I'm going to spend $50 on magazines.

The Zen of Kicking Ass

Did 45 minutes of yoga with weights this morning. Achieved Zen in the knowledge that after working out for 45 minutes doing yoga poses while holding 5-pound hand weights I am becoming an ass-kicking machine.

I will not be tempted by chocolate. Or junk food. I will stick to the food I brought with me today.

I am a Zen terminator!

Forget Homer...

...my friend Piera's trip home on Friday night made Odysseus' little sojourn back from the Trojan War look like a walk to the grocery store to get a gallon of milk. Witness:

"We witnessed the downpour that took place at 4 p.m. The skies darkened and an eerie silence fell over the city right before the water came crashing down.

So we leave at 5. Instinctively, I knew that the V, E, R, and N were not working. I knew it. However, we walked to the 53rd/Lexington Avenue station. No V or E service. The MTA suggested for all us Queens people to take the 6 train to Times Square and take the 7 train. So I walk with my co-worker to the 6 since she has to take the 6 two stops to get home. IT WAS RIDICULOUS! I'm already a bit claustrophobic and that platform was ridiculous. My co-worker decides that she can walk the 20 blocks home. So we leave and by that time, the rain has subsided and the weather was now a misty rain. We walk and I realize that the Q101 bus is nearby. Salvation! I temporarily erase all memories of me taking that horrible, horrible bus from high school. It never came then. I always had to walk 30 blocks home, everyday, in high school for 4 years. (But damn, did I have some great legs!)

The line wasn't so bad. I was the 10th person in. NO BUS! Three Q101s pass by with a "Not in Service" sign. After waiting for about an hour (now it's 6:30 p.m.), I decide to grab McDonald's and head back to the office (5 blocks away) to wait out the rush. So I head back, go upstairs, eat my Quarter Pounder, and pay some bills online.

At about 7:30, I decide that the best course of action would be for me to walk to Times Square (20 blocks away - about a 15-20 minute walk) and take the 7 train to Woodside and have my father pick me up from there. If the 7 train is not working, then I can just hang out at one of the hotels and hail a cab from there. The 7 train wasn't running (lying MTA bastards!), so I head off to one of the hotels. Seems like everyone else had that idea because there were CROWDS at each and every hotel in Times Square.

So, off I go. I walk over to 58th and 8th and stop in front of a hotel there. Three cabbies come by (after trying to hail one for an hour) and no one wanted to go into Queens. One guy said, "I do not like Queens." I told him, "I do not like you!" I walk over to 9th Avenue and stop in front of a small hotel there. I see a man getting out of a cab and the hotel attendant assisting him. Of course, I am on that in two seconds. I hesitantly ask, "Queens please?" and he tells me to hop in. HOP IN! The two most magical words in the world for me.

So now, it's about 9 p.m. To get to the 59th Street Bridge lower level via 3rd Avenue is HELL. So he asks if I'm okay if he takes an alternate route. Of course - as long as I'm out of the city, I'm fine. So he calls his other cabbie friend to make sure another route is available. His friend is telling my cabbie that he's crazy to drive into Queens. My cabbie, my hero, tells his friend that I need to get home. Awww... God bless that man.

So by the time he pulls up in front of my house, it's 10:15 p.m. I tip the man well - he deserves it! I thank him a million and one times and get out.

So that was may tale. I hope you enjoyed it."

Piera, you have no idea...

Marooned in Jersey!

So apparently, the NYC Transit authority mistook some rain for the next flood and screwed commuters yet again. Methinks another raise hike is imminent and they needed some ammunition.

Anyway, the F train announced at 42nd Street that there was no Queensbound service, and invited us all to try our chances on the number 7 train. Anyone who knows me knows I'd almost rather watch Bush address the nation (I said almost) than ride the 7 train. And considering that every underground line was discharging Queensbound passengers and telling them to take the 7, which is already a clusterf*ck of human proportions at best, I opted to head for my mom's. I left the station, left a profanity-laced voicemail on my mother's cellphone, informing her that I'd be meeting her at home, and headed for Port Authority.

Got to Port Authority at 5:40, got on a bus, the bus took off. (Turns out my mom's E train took almost 40 MINUTES to go three stops, so she was two buses behind me.) I was in Jersey by 6:40. Watching the news that night, seeing what people were continuing to go through in order to get home, I could only sit back and realize that going to Jersey most likely saved someone's life, because I know I would have gone Berserker-Rage Wolverine on someone had I tried.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (dressing), I have got to get my crap together and start eating right. Working out 3 days a week isn't going to do a blessed thing for my backside if I keep diving into Will's Doritos stash. I just don't know if I want to be aggravated by logging into SelfDietClub.com every day to put all my meals in. As cool as the site is, the logging in thing gets tedious and the inner brat in me doesn't wanna do it. I have to figure this out and be done with it already. Argh.

Oh yeah... I'm still knitting...

I haven't slacked off, I am still a knitting fool. Mike got me a book, One Skein, which features 30 things I can knit, allegedly with one skein of yarn. Since I have many 'one skeins' in my stash, I decided to go for it. I've finished the cable scarf, which looks mighty nifty if I may say so myself. It's a ribbed scarf with a single cable running up the side. Easily knit up on size 9 needles on a regular worsted weight yarn.


Next up, I'm back to an old issue of "Knit It" magazine (Fall 2005, to be exact- and I can't find its site, what the hell?) where there is a very cute baby blanket I'm currently working on for Helene's friend, Helena, who is having a baby girl at some point this year. I'm using a different gauge, but it's going to be a lighter, airier blanket. It's a checkerboard pattern (stockinette/garter) and it's another worsted weight yarn on size 9 needles. I'm using one of those "Pound of Love" monster skeins my mom picked up to crochet a blanket for someone whose child is probably near college age by now (hee hee, Mom). Anyway, it's knitting up nicely so hopefully I'll be posting a photo soon.

I see by the clock on my lower right hand side of the monitor that it's time for me to head out and pick Will up. Ta ta for now, all.

Amendment To My Former Post

All of that stands, except for anything pertaining to Ash Wednesday. All bets are off for Ash Wednesday. For 12 years, I got herded into Church on Ash Wednesday and inevitably ended up with the priest with the biggest thumb. I hated walking around with that giant blob on my head. I'd try to cover it up with my bangs, and my mom would shove them out of the way. Argh!

The last day I got ashes was Ash Wednesday, 1988. I was a senior in high school. Catch my drift?

Catholicism... WOW!

I hope you recognize the Dogma reference and don't think that I've been somehow "saved". ;-)

Anyway, Will had the closing liturgy to his religious ed class (for the school year) last night so we went. He was so cute singing that I had to hug him during one of the songs. I'm not sure how much he appreciated that, what with me spoiling his street cred, but I'm a mom, we do wacky things like that.

It was pretty funny... he kept glancing up at me as I repeated all the responsorial phrases and nudged him when it was time to kneel, sit or stand. Finally, he says, "How do you know all this?" I told him, "I did this for 12 years in Catholic school."

Which got me thinking. Wow, it never really leaves you, does it? In some way, shape or form, no matter how lapsed a Catholic I've become (in some ways), the Mass is there, ingrained in me. Which, to be honest, is kind of comforting. Although for a while now I've said that I'm a Catholic in my own sense of the word, sometimes the old habits of Mass are nice to come back to.

Not my usual post, but just something that I've been thinking about today. That, and how adorable my boys are. But I think about that every day...