tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89834087452133004532024-03-13T18:49:12.882-07:00Blog TherapyJenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-14363374118669932092014-12-20T21:56:00.000-08:002014-12-20T21:56:55.766-08:00Magical Chicken Noodle Soup<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>Note: I wrote this a while back, but I have more draft blogs than posted ones, so I'm using them to keep you (and me) entertained. </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been known to mis</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">use the words "epic" or "magical" or even "amazing", but this is not the case here. You'll see why...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I also don't dabble in the "Dark Arts" at all ever, but somehow I made a MAGICAL chicken noodle soup the other night. No, really. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">It was one of those nights where I didn't know what to make, so I came home, stared at the contents of my refrigerator, and settled on chicken noodle soup. No recipe. No expectation of it turning out delicious. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So, the family sat down to their steaming bowls of soup (which I did not eat - that's how I can confirm that it's magical. You'll understand in a minute.), and ate. My little one had one bowl, my older daughter had two bowls, and my husband had three bowls. Some amalgamation of the stories of <u>The Three Bears</u> and <u>Little Black Sambo</u> has popped into my head, but anyway...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Next thing I knew, both kids were asleep before bedtime, and my husband was passed out on the couch. I was the only person awake at 8:00pm. **Magic** is the only explanation. That. Never. Happens. The dogs were bugging me, and I considered feeding them some to see if they'd also go away and fall asleep, but I decided against that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You know you want the recipe, so here it is with pictures of all of my magical ingredients. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Disclaimer: If you don't make it exactly to the recipe, then you might not have the same results. Even if you do, results may vary. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">First, get your magical Rachel Ray stainless steel pot. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UujQXm5Ov0E/UvT5Maf8T7I/AAAAAAAAB3g/miZ7rcVbn2M/s1600/magic+pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UujQXm5Ov0E/UvT5Maf8T7I/AAAAAAAAB3g/miZ7rcVbn2M/s1600/magic+pot.jpg" height="284" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Make sure you have a magical bamboo spoon. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TjojfPt3MzI/UvT5hI9fG7I/AAAAAAAAB3w/N1aBIgawc6M/s1600/magic+spoon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TjojfPt3MzI/UvT5hI9fG7I/AAAAAAAAB3w/N1aBIgawc6M/s1600/magic+spoon.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally, gather the following magical ingredients.</span> <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uLcBpZW-VMI/UvT5hTaWGeI/AAAAAAAAB30/_SznQxhXFDQ/s1600/magic+ingredients2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uLcBpZW-VMI/UvT5hTaWGeI/AAAAAAAAB30/_SznQxhXFDQ/s1600/magic+ingredients2.jpg" height="322" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once you've done all of this, do the following exactly how I tell you - or there will be no magic. Trust me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step one: Chop everything that is choppable except the noodles. Spend as little time as possible doing this step. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step two: Drink a glass of wine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step three: Put everything but the noodles in the pot, cover, and let it cook until it's finished. Season to taste. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step three-and-a-half: Refill wine glass.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step four: Add noodles and let it cook until they're done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step five: Serve. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Wooden Spoon: Use to stir AND to threaten your children if they come in the kitchen to tattle ONE. MORE. TIME.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Bon Appetit!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-66972310821983204612014-11-04T17:27:00.005-08:002014-11-04T17:27:52.510-08:00My Kids On Voting...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have plenty to say about voting, but you'd probably rather hear what my kids had to say about it. I'll sum my opinion up at the end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My kindergartener reminded me last night that I needed to vote today, and she and her big sister had plenty of advice on who I should vote for. When conversations like this happen, I kick myself for not having an always-on GoPro in my car or on my person, but I'll do my best to capture the spirit of the conversation: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Note: ALL CAPS is more enthusiasm than yelling.</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: Mom, You know you need to vote for governor tomorrow. I think you should vote for GEORGE WASHINGTON! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: NO! He takes your money! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: No he doesn't. He'll make a GREAT governor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Uncle Sam takes your money, not George Washington. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: Why would our uncle take our money?! (We don't actually have an uncle named Sam in our family). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They argued about who will make the best governor in a heated "Nuh-uh!" "Uh-huh!" exchange...</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uVsiMMo-CM/VFl3jYUHneI/AAAAAAAAB-o/8D2c2yRRnCw/s1600/nuh%2Buh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0uVsiMMo-CM/VFl3jYUHneI/AAAAAAAAB-o/8D2c2yRRnCw/s1600/nuh%2Buh.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Actually, neither George Washington nor Uncle Sam are on the ballot, so I can't vote for either of them. (I had to explain what a ballot is. If you need my explanation, just ask for it in the comments.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A&E: WHAT? WHY NOT?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Well, George Washington is dead, and...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">A: WHAT?! George Washington DC is dead? I mean, George Washington FROM D.C. is DEAD???? What happened to him? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: He was born like 300 years ago. He died a long time ago. Dead people make terrible governors. And Uncle Sam isn't a real person. He was a character created for... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">A: I know how to spell H.E.B.! H E B. hehehehe</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-20_4l2fnUgg/VFl6NnpFk4I/AAAAAAAAB-0/xjwHXBfado4/s1600/washingtongeorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-20_4l2fnUgg/VFl6NnpFk4I/AAAAAAAAB-0/xjwHXBfado4/s1600/washingtongeorge.jpg" height="320" width="273" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Well, I lost them after that, but I'm encouraged that they recognize voting as an important thing at such an early age...even if they DO want to vote for dead presidents and cartoon characters. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5i7fRGO9zU/VFl8ExS7mkI/AAAAAAAAB_A/MwlYyoln6-c/s1600/vote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5i7fRGO9zU/VFl8ExS7mkI/AAAAAAAAB_A/MwlYyoln6-c/s1600/vote.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-42928470279904138322014-04-15T20:14:00.000-07:002014-04-16T14:19:52.630-07:00I'm so OVER the Easter Bunny! <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the more I think about it, I'm over Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, too. (Elf on the Shelf is real, so I'm not including that guy in my rant.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I would consider my past self as someone who believed that children should hang on to those magical, mythical present depositors for as long as possible. But now that I'm a whole eight years into this shit, I'm ready to break the news to my kids. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Before you blow up my comments with how and why I shouldn't shatter their magical childhood, don't worry. I want to, but I won't. Not yet anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So, as I'm planning the Easter baskets for the kids this year, two things happened. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>First</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"> I told Jay how stressed I was about all I had to do this Spring including the baskets, and he said, "Oh. Those are easy." To which I replied, "Great. Then you are assigned Easter basket duty." He said, "Fine. I'll just go to Walgreen's and get one that's already made and ready to go." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I didn't say anything back, but you know I cringed. Because you just cringed when you read that. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqWHEA4pOiM/U03w7q7JkKI/AAAAAAAAB5M/FEQDh-16Bi0/s1600/easterbasket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqWHEA4pOiM/U03w7q7JkKI/AAAAAAAAB5M/FEQDh-16Bi0/s1600/easterbasket.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Um, no.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Second</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I made a list of what I wanted to put in their baskets. I was going for simple and fun. My list included sidewalk chalk, a birdhouse that they can paint, some seeds to plant, etc. You know, crunchy mommy things. Anyway, I started thinking about how creative and wonderful I am and how much they'll LOVE these baskets...that they get...FROM THE EASTER BUNNY?! And I realized then and there that I'm completely over busting my ass to make this magic on behalf of someone/thing that doesn't even exist! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">They'll grow up remembering that they had great baskets and gifts, sure, but they won't be able to thank me on the spot for the things they love. Selfish of me, I know, but those suckers are a lot of work, and I've done my time! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In conclusion, I'll probably let my husband buy the crappy baskets from Walgreen's...NEXT Easter. This year, I'm going to let the Easter Bunny blow their mind one last time and look surprised at how amazing and creative that jellybean-pooping, boiled egg-dying, candy-hiding, spotlight-stealing rabbit is! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-60029753128212172982014-04-15T19:40:00.000-07:002014-04-15T19:41:11.322-07:00Bedtime Stories (Mine, not the Adam Sandler Movie)<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was in bad need of some me-time tonight, so I tried to cut the bedtime routine short. I skipped baths, cups of water and reading a book. BUT, they insisted on a story. (For those who don't know, I have two girls. E is 8 and A is 5.) So here's how it went:</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: Mom! Read me a story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: I'll tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a girl named Aubrey who didn't go to bed like she was told, and she stayed up too late, and the night monster came and ate her. The end.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: Really, mom? That's not a real story. Tell me a REAL story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Okay. Once upon a time, there was a...(looking around her room for inspiration) dinosaur who lived in a cage. And that made him very very sad. So he bit through the bars, ran to the forest, and now he lives on our lot and eats all of the bunnies. The end. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--U4ntR16a_M/U03rlvZL4GI/AAAAAAAAB4w/D7_5dgbjWso/s1600/dinosaur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--U4ntR16a_M/U03rlvZL4GI/AAAAAAAAB4w/D7_5dgbjWso/s1600/dinosaur.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Inspiration</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: Grrrr. That's terrible!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: Tell ME a story.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Okay. (Looking around her room for inspiration) Once upon a time, there was a little girl who sewed. And she sewed and she sewed and she sewed and she sewed and she sewed. Then she stopped sewing because she realized she was hungry. But when she stood up, she saw that she had sewed herself to the chair. So she starved to death. The end. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJ2Kxq8VthU/U03sUAtoffI/AAAAAAAAB44/HLcmEsL_ZDk/s1600/dress+form.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZJ2Kxq8VthU/U03sUAtoffI/AAAAAAAAB44/HLcmEsL_ZDk/s1600/dress+form.jpg" height="320" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Inspiration</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: Ugh! You know that's really going to happen to me now, right? Tell me a REAL story about something REAL!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Okay. Once upon a time, there was a mermaid...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: THAT'S NOT REAL! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Okay. Once upon a time, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus went on vacation...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A: And Jack Frost and the Sandman and Elsa and Ana? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Yes. All of those people and all of the other Disney characters. And they went on vacation to Mexico. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: MOOOOOOOM! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: And they all went to dinner at Carlos & Charlie's. They drank margaritas and ate Mexican food and sang all of their songs. They all ate lots of chips and salsa. What they didn't realize was that the salsa was made from ROTTEN TOMATOES! So they all go sick and had diarrhea for a WEEK! </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cPOsBDTDQ30/U03s8D7-F8I/AAAAAAAAB5A/qIjtba9oAZI/s1600/goofy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cPOsBDTDQ30/U03s8D7-F8I/AAAAAAAAB5A/qIjtba9oAZI/s1600/goofy.jpg" height="167" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E & A: EWWWWWWWWWWWWW</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: But they're all better now. The end. Goodnight.</span> Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-61951214597310622452014-02-01T07:22:00.001-08:002018-05-03T07:59:19.148-07:00Why women are crazy<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Men. And kids. And mothers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The end.</span></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-72599602213435224942014-01-14T13:22:00.003-08:002014-01-14T13:23:39.097-08:00Last Thursday Morning (two months ago)<div dir="ltr">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi! I've been a little uninspired and/or inspired-but-afraid-my-post-might-land-me-in-jail for the past two months-ish. I'm back now. Calm down. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">You may be wondering what could possible bring me out of hiding. How fantastic could it be. Brace yourself. I had a morning last Thursday (two months ago) that left me so inspired, it only took me 6 days to put my experience into words. And two months to post it! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>The Bus Stop</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial;">So...my driveway is the bus stop. I spend as much time as possible out there bossing around other people's children when no other adults are around, and yet the children still like me. Take my little neighbor girl: We'll call her Suzy <a href="http://five-cents-please.blogspot.com/2013/08/bathroom-graffiti.html" target="_blank">(because I like replacing s's with z's)</a>. Seven-year-old Suzy ran to my door and hugged me as soon as she saw me. Sweet. She was excited to tell me about her new puppy: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">S: Hi! We got a new puppy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Oh yes. I saw him. He's cute. He's a pit bull, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">S: Yes! His name is TITAN! He has a brother at my cousin's named DEISEL!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Oh, he has a brother. That's nice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">S: Well...His name WAS Budweiser, but we changed it to Titan because my cousin's dog was named Bud Light, and he changed it to Deisel. So when he did that, we changed our dog's name from Budweiser to Titan. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: I think Titan is a much better name for a dog. I'm glad you chose that name. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">S: (Proud as any snaggle-toothed 7-year-old can be) YEP! His full name is Titan Budweiser Scotch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">WHA? WHY? WHO? Our dog's name (Schatzi Annie Cupcake Sprinkles) is ridiculous and long, but it's kid-appropriate, people!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Estaban's Monte Carlo</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On this very same day, I picked up my intern to take her to work, and on leaving her drive way, I backed into her neighbor's Antique Monte Carlo (before you get to gasp-y, we're in our mid-thirties, so shit we used to drive around in in high school almost qualifies for antique plates). DOH!! She told me, "His name is Steve, but his REAL name is Esteban Smith." Really? So I got an image in my head of what "Esteban" might look like. And then I met him (to pay him for damages). Here are the before and after pictures (neither are really Esteban, but you get the idea): </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More accurate, but he was smiling <br />
because I paid him $300 to fix his fender.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is an obvious lesson here. If your baby doesn't look like an Esteban, don't name him Esteban and get all of our hopes up. Oh, and his last name is not Smith I later found out...Added comment bonus: What would you have named this guy? </span><br />
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-8861766341122193672014-01-14T12:47:00.002-08:002014-01-14T12:49:16.181-08:00Fat Vegetarians ROCK their Blood Work!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I'm almost a year into my vegetarian lifestyle, and I'm thrilled to report that I'm in the excellent range for all of my stuff. Stuff = blood sugar, cholesterol, liver function, IRON (for you haters), metabolism, etc. NOW, if I only I could master the equation that is: </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.skinnysara.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="www.skinnysara.com" border="0" height="100" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rIhQiPreNds/UtWcgJ4r7PI/AAAAAAAAB2o/0obTbyE0vOg/s320/equation.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, for now, I'm healthy, y'all!! I'm not saying I haven't lost weight, but it's unclear if it's stress or the fact that I'm feasting on more plant-based foods. If only Oreos and wine weren't accidentally vegan. Well, most wine. It's at least vegetarian if not vegan. And I don't buy Oreos. (How do my posts always end up with confessions??)</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.thefussybritches.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="www.thefussybritches.com" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--zjO3H73Kjc/UtWdPPmfTCI/AAAAAAAAB2w/wnfrAOhjEOA/s1600/oreos+and+wine.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is all excellent news. Now for the bad news - for my husband, at least. The doctor did not test my sanity. I admit, it is probably not in the "optimal" range...but I urge you to ask yourself, "Would I REALLY like Jennifer if she wasn't bat-shit crazy?" If you answered "Yes," then maybe you should ask yourself, "Would her blogs be worth reading if she wasn't bat-shit crazy." I'm guessing that is a 100% "No." See! Crazy, but smart like a human! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a logical conclusion to this post coming riiiiiiiiight now. Since A) I'm a fat vegetarian, and B) I STILL <a href="http://five-cents-please.blogspot.com/2013/06/fat-female-hipsters-do-they-exist.html" target="_blank">want to be a hipster</a>, I'm going to go design my own ironic t-shirt. If you want one, just let me know. Here's my first draft. I'll probably try to sweet-talk my brother into some fantastic artwork. Sorry, Barrett. I can only pay you in hummus. </span></div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-49698832267578118972013-09-10T07:18:00.001-07:002013-09-10T07:18:38.284-07:00Don't copy me!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So it turns out that my four-year-old is a myna bird. She LOOOOOOVES to mimic people. I would venture to say it's her favorite thing. Not only that, but she has an excellent command of the English language, so it is not even funny to throw big words her way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">The other day, she was "copying" her sister until she was in a screaming fit of seven-year-old rage. Fearing for my littlest one's life, I intervened.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Stop copying your sister. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Brat: Stop copying your sister.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Stop copying me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Brat: Stop copying me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Seriously. I will pull over and leave you on the side of the road, and some stranger will pick you up. Then you can copy the stranger for the rest of your life because you'll never see me again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Brat: Fine. I'll copy myself. I'll copy myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Excellent idea.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Brat: Yes it is. Yes it is. I though of it myself. I thought of it myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">How does one get her own reality show, I wonder...?</span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-65449317002561710362013-08-20T21:20:00.001-07:002013-08-20T21:22:29.189-07:00My tiny therapist<p dir="ltr">Tonight, we were reading "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss, and the kid had some questions.</p>
<p dir="ltr">"What is a 'lurch'?"</p>
<p dir="ltr">"Why does this book say 'guy' when I'm actually a girl?" (Not much is cuter than hearing my 4-year-old say "actually"...or recognizing that I own a tiny feminist.)</p>
<p dir="ltr">"What is a 'slump'?  Is it like being bummed?"</p>
<p dir="ltr">"Why is he moving a mountain?"</p>
<p dir="ltr">As you can see, it takes us a while to read a single Dr. Seuss book.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Anyway, nights like tonight, I catch myself explaining ideas to this kid.  Tonight it was "climbing (figurative) mountains".  I think, "Why are you doing this?  She thinks you are talking crazy,"  But I just keep talking.  </p>
<p dir="ltr">In my example, I explained that I have "mountains" and one of those mountains is being a good wife. Before I could even get into the "climb" of it all (because why else do we have children if not to have tiny therapists?), she said, "You know what I know?  You are a great mom.  That was a great mountain!  Now let's go to sleep."</p>
<p dir="ltr">Ahh.  It makes me wish I was four.  But if I can't be four, I'm extra-super-delighted that THIS four-year-old is mine!  Oh, the places this kid will go...</p>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-81916143296551778252013-08-12T20:47:00.001-07:002013-08-12T20:51:01.731-07:00Friends<p>Today was kind of crappy, so I decided to dust off a post that never made it to press.  It reminded me that even on a crappy day, I have so much to be thankful for!</p>
<p>Friends...</p>
<p>No, not the show...the real thing.  I was driving home tonight from an evening of fund-raising and fun when something happened.  I just started crying.  Not because I'm sad or my life is incomplete, but because...just because.  </p>
<p>I suppose some of the tears were for people to whom I wish I could say one more thing - my dad, my first boss, my crazy aunt.  But mostly they were tears of joy.  Maybe, my heart is so full, something had to give.  </p>
<p>I have an amazing, full life.  Really, I do.  And a huge part of my amazing, full life are my awesome friends.  They laugh with me.  They cry with me.  They pray for me.  They even set me straight when I need it.  Some share my twisted sense of humor while others don't "get me" but choose to love me anyway.  A few friends will even wrap the preachers' houses with me.  Some sense when I need a pick-me-up, and others know how to let me down gently.  I can't imagine my life without them.  </p>
<p>To my friends, thank you from the bottom of my heart. </p>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-2195686372576038012013-08-12T06:36:00.000-07:002013-08-12T06:36:21.822-07:00A new tattoo? <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been contemplating a new tattoo. I'm not totally sure why, but it sounds like a good idea. Maybe I'm mid-life and don't know it. Whatever...that's not the point. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The point is, I have been talking to my extremely anti-tattoo mom about it. What to get, where on my body, etc. I was considering a few things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe this somewhere on my back:</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XQeNIDSa5Ms/Ugh0gqfCZhI/AAAAAAAAByg/-_3LDPllHhY/s1600/woman_symbol.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XQeNIDSa5Ms/Ugh0gqfCZhI/AAAAAAAAByg/-_3LDPllHhY/s320/woman_symbol.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My (ex) best friend suggested this to cover my entire back (maybe because it looks like her a little...). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I think it's sexy. In a very confident kind of way...for an asshole." Her words, not mine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really REALLY love this, but it would require a flawless, 20-year-old back and about $600.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, you can vote in the comments if you like, but my mom decided to give her two cents. She suggested I get a tattoo of a mermaid in honor of my sweet little wannabe Mer-child. I thought it was a great idea...then I started thinking out loud:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: I COULD do that! She would love it! But then, I would have to get something for the little one. Maybe a ballerina? Or a Mermaid with a tutu? I KNOW! A ballerina mermaid with a wand, so it's a fairy princess ballerina mermaid. That should cover everything...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mom: How about you just go buy yourself a nice shirt?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well played, mom. Well played. </span></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-66556238698316420312013-08-10T21:44:00.000-07:002013-08-10T21:44:02.055-07:00Vanity Plate Advice<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some people don't think these things through. Vanity plates can really affect the rest of your life. Clever uses of vanity plates include: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"BUGCHIC" if you make a lifetime of driving VWs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"FSTBTCH" if you drive fast or put out on the first date</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"TEXNFAN" if you LOVE the Texans</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"AGGMOM" if you have a kid at Texas A&M or little kids who aggravate you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">"ASSMAN" if you are a proctologist</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">You get the picture. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Some other loves/like/habits, though? Not so much. Take this guy for example. I'm sure his wife makes the best, and I'm sure it's delicious, but why advertise that you LOVE LOVE LOVE to eat:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's a "W" not an "N". Yes. It says: </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kXPW4evGxDc/Ugb4H1JP36I/AAAAAAAABx4/yBACXQw3PuU/s1600/Pstew" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kXPW4evGxDc/Ugb4H1JP36I/AAAAAAAABx4/yBACXQw3PuU/s320/Pstew" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Gross, dude. Gross. </span></div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-18870329427790877862013-08-09T22:05:00.000-07:002013-08-09T22:05:14.758-07:00Vacation Week Blog Challenge<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Written at 10:00 am in a massage chair:</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My vacation week officially started today, so I am challenging myself to one interesting blog per day. (I'll measure "interesting" by my own amusement level in case you are curious.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Written at 11:26 pm on my mom's couch:</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was a great-sounding idea at 10 this morning while I was getting a pedicure and (surely) had something clever to tell you all; however, now that it's almost midnight, and my brain has melted from a day of getting my kids ready to go out of town...yeah, I got nothin'. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, Hey! It's tax-free weekend, so I will most definitely have an adventure to tell about tomorrow! In the meantime, here is a <i>Freaking Mermaids!</i> update.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought my plan was golden: have her say goodbye to all of her loved ones and her new kitten. Drive her to a nice rocky hill (volcano) and then tell her to get out of the car and go live her dream. My friends did not think that was a "Mom of the Year" type move, so they made lots of suggestions. A favorite was to dress up like a mermaid myself and embarrass her to death, but they don't make mermaid tails in plus size. (I know! I was shocked, too!) So, I made her a deal. I told her that I want her to live her dream, but we have to compromise. If she promises to stay a human until she graduates from high school, then I will take her to this volcanic moon pool (this is not a REAL thing, y'all) and she can jump in. She TOTALLY AGREED! Thanks to my friends for their advice!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's hoping she grows out of this over the next 11 years. </span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-50260950513420259412013-08-06T15:24:00.000-07:002013-08-06T15:24:52.124-07:00FREAKING MERMAIDS! <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Does anyone know of any books or movies (that are kid-appropriate...) that portray mermaids as ugly, evil, wretched, vile things??? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">My kid longs...LOOOONGS to be a mermaid. It's all she can think about, and I can't convince her that she will never be a mermaid. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;">Even if God Himself visited her and said, "I am God, and I made you a human, and you will never EVER turn into a mermaid because I never made mermaids," she would not believe Him. Not because he speaks in run-ons, so how could He possibly be the real deal?, but because she has seen mermaids on TV, SO. THEY. ARE. REAL! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And she <em>knows</em> how she can turn into one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"How," you ask? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step One: Ask your Nana to make you a mermaid tail from beautiful pink fabric. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step Two: While you wait for your tail, spend as much time as possible practicing your mermaid kick. (AKA dolphin kick for you human swimmers out there.) Reading a book before bedtime? Mermaid kick. Laying on the floor watching TV? Mermaid kick. At swimming lessons? Mermaid kick (even when you're told not to and you get kicked out of the pool). Setting the table? Mermaid kick - which looks like belly-dancing because she's standing up... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">When do you NOT mermaid kick? When you're told to "BE STILL!" Then, practice sitting how a mermaid would sit on a rock. </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpF8fZGUi3U/UgEULBJGiKI/AAAAAAAABw0/vUGEQvnaXvQ/s1600/ariel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dpF8fZGUi3U/UgEULBJGiKI/AAAAAAAABw0/vUGEQvnaXvQ/s320/ariel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step Three: Find a volcano, by an ocean, that is the right temperature inside. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step Four: Wear your bikini (because cool mermaids ALWAYS show their midriff). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Step Five: Wait until the full moon, then JUMP INTO THE VOLCANO! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Here's where I had to intervene. It went something like this: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Alright. If you jump into a volcano, you will DIE. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Her: No I won't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Yes. They are filled with lava. You will die instantly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Her: (As convicted as any person might be) Not if it's the right temperature! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: *speechless*</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know, I know. She sounds like a character from <u><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0172493/" target="_blank">Girl, Interrupted</a></u> right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">HELP!!!!!</span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-51627726754075062852013-08-05T11:09:00.000-07:002013-08-05T11:43:25.163-07:00Bathroom Graffiti<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had the honor of attending a luncheon with my family at a restaurant at the Beltway and Beechnut. Truly an interesting part of town, so the fact that it had bathroom graffiti was...well...it was not surprising. While the food was decent, the bathroom graffiti was the real treat du jour! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'm sure I became the talk of the table when I kept getting up and taking my phone to the bathroom. (I did this for you, reader, because I love you.) So much to take in in one, ahem, sitting. AND I almost got busted taking photos (with flash) in the stall when another restaurant patron walked in. "Creepster is the new Hipster." Pass it on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I'd like to pose two statements/questions that cover almost all of these works of art. First, lawmakers might consider poor phonetic spelling of baby's names a Class B Misdemeanor. Qs weren't really meant to be used THAT much. Second, WHY do so many people carry permanent markers?? And why do those people think it's okay to write on walls? Why?? I have lived to see 34 without EVER writing on some one's wall - well, except when I was three, and my mom told me I'd have to find a new home if I didn't quit that shit immediately. (I'll share that story some other time.) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Alright. Without further ado, here are the pictures and my commentary on this first edition of "Bathroom Graffiti".</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSv85Z7unZA/Uf_Ab4sNY7I/AAAAAAAABqk/ObgjmS4jdaQ/s1600/20130727_130800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSv85Z7unZA/Uf_Ab4sNY7I/AAAAAAAABqk/ObgjmS4jdaQ/s320/20130727_130800.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Not sure about Tweety's use of symbols. Maybe she's sneering at me. Maybe she's almost a feminist...if. those two. plus signs. will. just. touch. the. circles. of. LIIIIIIFE! I already like her, but that blob next to her artwork cried a little bit. See the tear? </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TJrkW-VRf3k/Uf_Aht9dPVI/AAAAAAAABqs/D8YRVGr_n4Q/s1600/20130727_121107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TJrkW-VRf3k/Uf_Aht9dPVI/AAAAAAAABqs/D8YRVGr_n4Q/s320/20130727_121107.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look at these two BFFs complimenting each other on the bathroom wall. "<em>[Ber]anna's the best." "No, girl. You are. 'Qaliya got swag'." "Hold up. Let's go get these made into tattoos!"</em> <em> "I'll call Tweety!" "Naw. That hoe is practically a feminist."</em></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y7pf-myqnS4/Uf_AuoVI4FI/AAAAAAAABq8/fezhKIQDtA4/s1600/20130727_121058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y7pf-myqnS4/Uf_AuoVI4FI/AAAAAAAABq8/fezhKIQDtA4/s320/20130727_121058.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Oh yeah? I <3 albert moost. *smh* Canadians...</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S8Lm8f90_ag/Uf_APyNR_MI/AAAAAAAABqU/jqE2ZeYbzds/s1600/20130727_121116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S8Lm8f90_ag/Uf_APyNR_MI/AAAAAAAABqU/jqE2ZeYbzds/s320/20130727_121116.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NZdXyqj3rRY/Uf_ApQADh5I/AAAAAAAABq4/g9Ry3U-Tlig/s1600/20130727_121124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NZdXyqj3rRY/Uf_ApQADh5I/AAAAAAAABq4/g9Ry3U-Tlig/s320/20130727_121124.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going to need y'all to agree how to spell "Zayn". Just zayin. Az far az uzing "z" in playz of "s", I think it's charming...zaid no one ever. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YATIGW4WZM0/Uf_AWMgjgjI/AAAAAAAABqc/lFucXb1InjM/s1600/20130727_130744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YATIGW4WZM0/Uf_AWMgjgjI/AAAAAAAABqc/lFucXb1InjM/s320/20130727_130744.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please. Someone volunteer to give me a post-mortem, bathroom wall shout-out. Please. (You may volunteer to do so in the "Comments" section of this blog.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">AND FINALLY...</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QSZgcb6OkM8/Uf_AL5Kc-3I/AAAAAAAABqM/j9DoKqO_-Pg/s1600/20130727_131100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QSZgcb6OkM8/Uf_AL5Kc-3I/AAAAAAAABqM/j9DoKqO_-Pg/s320/20130727_131100.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Do this. Not because I say so, but because the Wing-ed Bear Head says so. (By the way, this is one worthy of MY calf.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Until next time...Keep thoze Sharpies sharp!!!</span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-1936286768223092012013-07-24T07:46:00.000-07:002013-07-24T07:50:07.324-07:00My observations<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sears needs an updated logo. This late-eighties-neon-esque look will not do. </span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0UCl00MAlQw/Ue_mr2W3vOI/AAAAAAAABig/UHEvBUWi8Uo/s1600/Sears_logo_1984-1994.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="75" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0UCl00MAlQw/Ue_mr2W3vOI/AAAAAAAABig/UHEvBUWi8Uo/s320/Sears_logo_1984-1994.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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The afternoon weather report on News 92 FM starts off, "This is MEATEATER-OLOGIST, John Dugowinski..." What is a "meateater-ologist"? I searched <a href="http://www.google.com/images">www.Google.com/images</a> for that exact word, and here's what I found: <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VKz6OuilChs/Ue_m0AnkjQI/AAAAAAAABiw/2nbfhTNf5Ik/s1600/klown9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VKz6OuilChs/Ue_m0AnkjQI/AAAAAAAABiw/2nbfhTNf5Ik/s320/klown9.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
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I'm guessing my "Filter Explicit Results" filter is on. But my "Filter Creepy-Shit" filter is not. <br />
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McDonald's' food is a crime against humanity...except during Monopoly season. Then, it is just fun because everyone wants to be a winner. Are you "PEELIN' LUCKY?" I am. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EOtfS_QTXD4/Ue_njfe2eSI/AAAAAAAABi8/CcXfJx050wI/s1600/mcdonalds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EOtfS_QTXD4/Ue_njfe2eSI/AAAAAAAABi8/CcXfJx050wI/s1600/mcdonalds.jpg" /></a></div>
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"Mayor Weiner" is a terrible idea unless a) his Chief of Staff's name is Mr. Oscar, b) they are always together, and c ) everyone addresses them with "Mr. Oscar, Mayor Weiner..." Also, he looks like the bad guy from <u>Ghost</u>, so I don't like him. WHO hires a man to kill Patrick Swayze? I mean, seriously??<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MAAp0VGOaAc/Ue_mzPcevPI/AAAAAAAABio/bi0XTIqAgcY/s1600/anthony-weiner-getty4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MAAp0VGOaAc/Ue_mzPcevPI/AAAAAAAABio/bi0XTIqAgcY/s320/anthony-weiner-getty4.jpg" width="277" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EbCcplC0CDA/Ue_nlCVDkMI/AAAAAAAABjE/z8kr73V5QYA/s1600/TonyGoldwyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EbCcplC0CDA/Ue_nlCVDkMI/AAAAAAAABjE/z8kr73V5QYA/s320/TonyGoldwyn.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-15669001959043513272013-07-21T22:14:00.001-07:002013-07-21T22:14:08.570-07:00Rediculous Weekend <p>Ted is a rediculous movie. Yet I watched the whole thing and laughed. Shame on me.</p>
<p>In other rediculousness, I had to break the news to my seven-year-old that she can never be a real mermaid. Not even if she looks at the moon while she is swimming in the ocean...(Wtf did she get that idea?) She still does not believe me. Thank goodness my mom is going to help the situation by making her a life-like mermaid tail to wear in the bathtub. </p>
<p>Oh my gawd. I'm thinking in Ted's voice. This is terrible. </p>
<p>And finally, my kids absolutely do not believe that "Jennifer" has been my first name my whole life. Rediculous. They told me that if I was their kid, they would have named me "Sunshine of the Flowers of the Whole Universe Barbie Transformer Mermaid." Wow did I luck out or what? But I would have loved to go by "Sunshine." </p>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-50353813235205183082013-07-09T11:49:00.003-07:002013-07-09T11:56:34.068-07:00Friend Rules by My 7-Year Old<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These are "Friend Rules" and advice as told to my 4-year-old by her big "stister" because she was having drama with her friend at pre-school. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Background: This little friend yelled, "HUSH, GIRL! HUSH!" in B's face and then wouldn't play with her for the rest of the day. After many tears and much heartbreak, her sister came up with this list of rules: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>First Rule Number One: Be nice to each other. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Second Rule: Do not hurt one uh-other.</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Three: Be good and be nice and not hurt each other. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Seve-...Round One...Round Four: Be careful to each udders and others. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Five: Do not hurt anybody.</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Six: Do NOOOOT eben put...Do not hurt anybody or others. Be kind to others.</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Seven: Do NOT DO NOT hurt anybody.</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Seven...Round Eight: You have to be kind. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Nine: Say "Look over there! There's a butterfly!" and run away. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>Round Seven...Round Ten: Run away if they are not nice. </em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes: these are quoted. No: she's not drunk. No: she didn't learn these from me. Well, maybe the distract-her-with-a-butterfly idea... Yes: it appears her favorite number is seven. Because she IS seven. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Such a nice list of suggestions...Much nicer than mine. I taught B how to say, "Callate!" (cai-yet-te) since this friend speaks Spanish. That way, she won't get in trouble for actually saying "Shut up!" which is a "bad word"...but only in English. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>My parenting advice book is due to be published next year.</em> <em>LOOK! A giant butterfly!!</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-80391682067362621612013-07-07T12:09:00.000-07:002013-07-07T12:09:08.283-07:00Would someone please come get my "Mom Card"? <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's not that I don't love being a mother. I REALLY love my kids. It's that sometimes I don't think I'm cut out for this. Surely other mothers have felt this way. -ish. I'm hoping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Anyway, take today for example. We get home, let the dogs outside, and my 7-year-old discovers some lizards doing the boomshakalaka on her little rocking chair. How do I handle it? Much like you'd expect Lilith from "Cheers" to handle it (Frasier's wife, remember her?) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid: Look, mom! Lizards on my chair! Uh...what are they doing? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: They're copulating. Leave them alone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid: Cop-a-lating? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Yes. They're making baby lizards. Leave them be. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid: Sister! Come here and see these lizards! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid2: Wow! That green lizards is biting the brown lizard. Let's stop him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: No! Let's let them copulate in peace and quiet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial;">Just when I thought I had made it out alive...</span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid2: What's that mean? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Making baby lizards. Inside. Now. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kid2: Did you know lizards poop babies? They poop them out of their butts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4Bif7UQNek/Udm8D-op0lI/AAAAAAAABhs/XQMMJsHET-o/s1600/199px-Cheers-bebe-neuwirth-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b4Bif7UQNek/Udm8D-op0lI/AAAAAAAABhs/XQMMJsHET-o/s1600/199px-Cheers-bebe-neuwirth-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Nap time. Let's go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I sure hope my kids grow up to be normal adults. If they don't, I only have myself to blame.</span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-31018642437614099942013-07-01T18:53:00.004-07:002013-07-10T07:55:12.543-07:00My underappreciated feminist side<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, I had a great idea while on the phone with my husband. We were discussing salary differences between men and women.</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Me: Ugh! I either need to get my MBA or grow a penis.</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"> I think I will move away and become a half-naked vegan feminist and fight for women's right. </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J: Would you really abandon your kids?</span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: No. You're right. I'll take them with me. They'll be little half-naked vegan feminists, too. Might as well start them young. </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J: Mmhmm.</span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: I know! I know, you can come, too! You can be a half-naked vegan MAN who fights for women's rights. You'll be on the<i> cunt</i>ing edge. You'll be like the white guy at the March on Washington, but that's good because you'll stand out. </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Silence</span></i></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J: Did you <i>mean</i> to use that word?</span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Of course I did....Okay, well, I'll go get the kids.</span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrPxUniGF3Q/Ud11v69YrQI/AAAAAAAABiM/oyO7H6J-eHE/s1600/Woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MrPxUniGF3Q/Ud11v69YrQI/AAAAAAAABiM/oyO7H6J-eHE/s320/Woman.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess I will have to fight for women's rights fully clothed here from home. </span></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"></span><br />Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-35897032685053449092013-06-27T13:48:00.001-07:002013-06-27T13:51:40.592-07:00Fat (female) hipsters: Do they exist? <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to be a hipster. Bad. I mean, REALLY bad. But before I make the conversion to hipster, I need more information. What is a hipster? Thanks to <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/">www.UrbanDictionary.com</a>, I have (could pick from several) my (two favorite) definitions (created by people like you and me):</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"The term "hipster" is cross-applied from the 1930s Beatniks. The modern hipster is a composite of individuals with a certain bohemian life situation and lifestyle..."</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Stop. You had me at "bohemian". </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>"<span style="font-family: Arial;">Definitions are too mainstream. Hipster's can't be defined because then they'd fit in a category, and thus be too mainstream."</span></em><br />
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another definition had something about Pabst Blue Ribbon, so I'm drinking that now, too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I started thinking about what I would wear/how I would change my wardrobe, and it occurred to me: I've never seen a fat hipster. Googling "Fat Hipster" yielded some entertaining and some disturbing results. One page compares them to unicorns while another refers to them as hippo-sters. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And, although I'd like to be this unicorn he speaks of, I would probably be more of the hippo-ster and wind up on <a href="http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/">www.peopleofwalmart.com</a>. You know? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I could, however, take the advice of one commenter and </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"either join a gym, get on drugs, or drop the cupcakes cuz it's not working with your poor downtown eighties look..." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Um. Joining a gym is expensive, and dropping a cupcake is just another mess for me to clean. Looks like I'm stuck with cocaine. Does anyone even "do" cocaine anymore? (I'm pretty old. In fact, I won't fit the age demo for hipster much longer)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Recap: </strong></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Bohemian - Check</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Shops at Goodwill - Check</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Rejects mainstream - Check</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Pabst Blue Ribbon - Check</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Cocaine - Checking</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Ironic t-shirt - Googling (Or I was until my SIL told me that Googling is completely mainstream, so I grabbed an encyclopedia instead)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And found this: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EPJCvLNPUk/UcyZ1qfvf7I/AAAAAAAABgs/WHfcxsE6Wek/s482/bustedtees_48de92e6-701b-4860-aeb3-062050126704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3EPJCvLNPUk/UcyZ1qfvf7I/AAAAAAAABgs/WHfcxsE6Wek/s320/bustedtees_48de92e6-701b-4860-aeb3-062050126704.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">HOW IRONIC IS THAT?!?! A fat hipster chic (me) wearing a shirt about fat people. OMG. Let THAT swim around in your head! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT when I went to order it (by mail, with a check, of course), I was like, WHAAAAAAAT? </span><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVMALTbeN4A/UcydvF8MhHI/AAAAAAAABg8/xdU36biaiPg/s283/MALE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVMALTbeN4A/UcydvF8MhHI/AAAAAAAABg8/xdU36biaiPg/s283/MALE.JPG" /></a></div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVMALTbeN4A/UcydvF8MhHI/AAAAAAAABg8/xdU36biaiPg/s283/MALE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVMALTbeN4A/UcydvF8MhHI/AAAAAAAABg8/xdU36biaiPg/s283/MALE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><div style="text-align: left;" unselectable="on">
</div>
</a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ewji-U6h2mU/UcydxAYaWrI/AAAAAAAABhE/KjekmXhk6L8/s285/FEMALE.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ewji-U6h2mU/UcydxAYaWrI/AAAAAAAABhE/KjekmXhk6L8/s285/FEMALE.JPG" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ugh. Gender Biases are so mainstream. Get with it, people! </span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Conclusion:</strong></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fat female hipsters do NOT exist because they aren't allowed to. Because ironic t-shirts only come in S, M, and L. Fat male hipsters, are totally allowed. </span></div>
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-34986858333600288152013-06-26T11:39:00.001-07:002013-06-26T11:40:21.333-07:00Death by dryer sheets and Humpty Dance<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>I had four, count them FOUR, topics to blog about before I made it to my parking garage at work. Here are the first two, combined for your enjoyment. </em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A friend of mine is trying to kill me with dryer sheets. If I didn't have a "don't use people's names on my blog" policy, I'd tell you who so when I die you can tell the police, but alas...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's true. When I told her this morning that dryer sheets are toxic and they are Killing us Slowly (...Strumming my pants with its fragrance...Stealing my life with its scent...killing me slowly with its <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Linalool</span> killing me sloooowlyyy...) she insisted I provide sources for my claim:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504763_162-20097302-10391704.html">http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504763_162-20097302-10391704.html</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><br />
</span><a href="http://www.holistichealthsecrets.com/alternativehealth/main-content/the-toxic-dangers-of-dryer-sheets-and-fabric-softeners/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.holistichealthsecrets.com/alternativehealth/main-content/the-toxic-dangers-of-dryer-sheets-and-fabric-softeners/</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="http://ecowatch.com/2013/why-you-need-to-ditch-dryer-sheets/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://ecowatch.com/2013/why-you-need-to-ditch-dryer-sheets/</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="http://healthylivinghowto.com/1/post/2013/04/healthy-body-7-toxic-reasons-to-ditch-dryer-sheets.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://healthylivinghowto.com/1/post/2013/04/healthy-body-7-toxic-reasons-to-ditch-dryer-sheets.html</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/new-study-scented-dryer-sheets-159942"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/new-study-scented-dryer-sheets-159942</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Claim: Sourced. Now to my friend's arguement. It was basically this: They can't be toxic. The Government wouldn't allow companies to use the ingredients if they were bad for us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JmaldoXwpA/UcszX_2Pz_I/AAAAAAAABgc/9gUZR1FVEig/s1600/tumblr_ls25jjE8Wj1qfoj4do1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JmaldoXwpA/UcszX_2Pz_I/AAAAAAAABgc/9gUZR1FVEig/s320/tumblr_ls25jjE8Wj1qfoj4do1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4UtFrlaGSp0/UcszQyU289I/AAAAAAAABfs/snL0QIKy7qE/s1600/imagesCAD1QMAH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4UtFrlaGSp0/UcszQyU289I/AAAAAAAABfs/snL0QIKy7qE/s1600/imagesCAD1QMAH.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UKiTZmUzaC4/UcszR6H04NI/AAAAAAAABf0/oKr2OOZt38g/s1600/imagesCASL2ZGB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UKiTZmUzaC4/UcszR6H04NI/AAAAAAAABf0/oKr2OOZt38g/s320/imagesCASL2ZGB.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmhmmm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HGidP3NRhjw/UcszTK0SV7I/AAAAAAAABf8/hYNuzEYN-k4/s1600/jackie-chan-wtf-meme-face-70958233396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HGidP3NRhjw/UcszTK0SV7I/AAAAAAAABf8/hYNuzEYN-k4/s320/jackie-chan-wtf-meme-face-70958233396.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whaaa?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qRqenF8TnDk/UcszUTg_gfI/AAAAAAAABgE/IzR2ikFUy5I/s1600/John-Travolta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qRqenF8TnDk/UcszUTg_gfI/AAAAAAAABgE/IzR2ikFUy5I/s320/John-Travolta.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*disappointed stare*</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i132CQRux_o/UcszVQE_B5I/AAAAAAAABgM/U1qczaE0hKU/s1600/misc-seriously.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i132CQRux_o/UcszVQE_B5I/AAAAAAAABgM/U1qczaE0hKU/s320/misc-seriously.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M6KaGkjKOvo/UcszWmH3PUI/AAAAAAAABgU/v5KeWhRPrJA/s1600/serious-face.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M6KaGkjKOvo/UcszWmH3PUI/AAAAAAAABgU/v5KeWhRPrJA/s320/serious-face.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grrr.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Moving on...The Humpty Dance came on 90's on 9 this morning, and I couldn't bring myself to change the station. I just couldn't. What's WRONG with me? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Seriously. </span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-68677444174585221102013-06-21T09:37:00.001-07:002013-06-21T09:37:20.959-07:00Toyota Will Donate One Meal for Every View This Video Gets<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have completely blown my "One Serious Post Per Year" goal. Oh well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This video is absolutely AMAZING! Watch and learn and volunteer, y'all! Jesus' message to help the needy was very clear, and these folks are very clearly doing it, now, in a most efficient way! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Kudos to Toyota for sharing their knowledge and their resources! </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.kprcradio.com/pages/950nonsense.html?article=11413503#.UcR_49VbeBB.blogger">Toyota Will Donate One Meal To The New York Food Bank For Every View This Video Gets | The Nonsense Page</a><br />
Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-23002410336076258982013-06-20T21:07:00.000-07:002013-06-20T21:07:08.979-07:00The Talk<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had to have the talk with my 7-year-old. She's awfully young, and, to be honest, I never actually thought she'd ask. Dumb, I know, because kids these days...*sigh* I guess I have movies to thank. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She spent the day with me at work today. I basically shut her into my file room with her laptop and let her watch Twinkle Toes. A movie produced by Sketchers. Yes. Sketchers shoes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hang on while I polish my Mother of the Year trophy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's where she learned about...555 numbers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, here's how the talk went:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: (running into my office) Mom! I need your phone!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: Why?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">E: Ughhhhhh. It's PER-SUH-NULL.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me: No. WHO are you going to call?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">E: Mooooom. Just let me handle my business. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Tell me who, and I will think about it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">She showed me the number she wanted to call, and I must admit I did an amazing job keeping my composure...for, like, 3 seconds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>I remember learning that 555 numbers were fake. I am certain at some point during my childhood I tried to call and order something from ACME or chit chat with "Deej" from Full House. Boy was I mad when I found out they were using fake numbers! I mean, why would they do that? Don't they want to talk to me??? </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Who's number is that? Twinkle Toes? </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D_rrRzmIGG4/UcPQNgS0G3I/AAAAAAAABes/TlPIK1bYWVM/s1600/imagesCAHFUAH9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D_rrRzmIGG4/UcPQNgS0G3I/AAAAAAAABes/TlPIK1bYWVM/s320/imagesCAHFUAH9.jpg" width="131" wya="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Call me! 555-0123! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">E: Yes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: Honey. That's not a real number. TV shows and movies use 555 numbers instead of real numbers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">E: It's REAL, mom. It is! And I need to call her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: What are you going to tell her? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">E: Lots of stuff. We have lots to talk about. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Me: It's not a real number, sweetie. And have I told you how cute you are? I love you. Let me take your picture because you're so precious and I want to remember this moment forever. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"For real, mom, I need to call her. It's personal."</td></tr>
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Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8983408745213300453.post-61364914966877080812013-06-20T10:33:00.001-07:002013-06-20T14:18:23.977-07:00My annual Serious Post...<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I consider myself a fairly normal person with just a tinge of "Feminist". My male co-workers, brother and husband think it's more than a tinge, but they would. They're men. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So, this article about inner city kids and baby dolls really got me misty. And by "misty" I mean, "I cried." I'll let you read it before we discuss: </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.today.com/moms/stay-home-mom-i-regret-not-working-6C10388324#brooklyn-school-girls-get-american-girl-store-thrill-6C10383238" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wGtt1Sf0Zl4/UcM01Mg4BMI/AAAAAAAABeM/wh9YDHvD1PM/s1600/ps28.jpg" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="http://www.today.com/moms/brooklyn-school-girls-get-american-girl-store-thrill-6C10383238" target="_blank">Brooklyn school girls get American Girl store Thrill</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wow. This was a neat story. There were so many things swirling in my head as/after I read this. I'll try to unpack them one by one: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. To think that ANY girl of ANY background thinks for one second that she can't do/be (doo bee doo...can't help myself) anything she sets her mind to makes me sad. So many famous quotes came to mind. Pick your favorite and write it on your mirror. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"If I conceive it, and my heart can believe it - then I can achieve it." - Muhammad Ali</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Every word in "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" - Dr. Seuss</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." - Henry David Thoreau</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">"So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains, and we never even know we have the key." - The Eagles </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Whether you think you can, or you think you can't -- you're right." - Henry Ford</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">These last two quotes takes me to my second "thing". </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">2. Why do these kids at such a startlingly young age have it programmed in their heads that there are places "white kids" go? Or, places "black kids" go or don't go for that matter? WHY? Who told them that? Maybe I live in a teeny-tiny-itty-bitty box of privilege and wealth (NOT!), but I haven't seen TV shows that promote that ideology. Not TV shows for kids, anyway. Are adults feeding them that line of bullshit? If so, SHAME SHAME SHAME on them! I mean, seriously. Shame on them! This really has me angry...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">3. Good for their teacher for springing into action. High praise for this guy, seriously! I'm willing to bet he has an inner-city-kid-turned-into-a-teacher inspirational story of his own. (At least I hope he does...that would make this that much more awesome!) And good for all of those people who saw to it that these girls got their American Girl dream. They are American girls, after all, and they should enjoy their experience...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">4. But I hope the adults involved did not miss this teachable moment. The moment where they could teach these girls that they are living this dream not because they were complaining to each other about their lot in life but because there are people out there to whom they can express their dreams and who will show them how to make their dreams come true! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">5. They should make their next trip somewhere "whiter" than D.C. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">6. And please tell me that they aren't going flying on airplanes and staying in swanky hotels because that's what "white people do." It is what successful people do. And success comes in many colors and creeds, shapes and sizes and genders. Well, just two genders. </span>Jenniferhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04961712706885825391noreply@blogger.com1