House arrest

Today's my birthday. Blah blah, don't bother with the "Hey, Happy Birthday, Birthday Girl!" messages. I'm not having any of it. 37 isn't a year to celebrate. I'm not sure what year is a year to celebrate anymore, but maybe 40?

I rang in my birthday (and our anniversary) by taking the boys to the pediatric dentist this morning. It wasn't bad, their teeth looked great and they had fun. You know who else was having fun? The guy who showed up in shorts with his wife or female companion and a small boy [that's the sad part about this story].

As he walked by, Cooper said to me "Why is he wearing a watch on his leg?" in a really loud voice which was cool.

Cause it wasn't a watch.

It was one of those homing devices people have to wear when they're on house arrest or something?

So what in the hell was this guy thinking, that a nice little trip to the pediatric dentist was a good idea? And that on a cold rainy fall day on said trip he should probably wear shorts because then everyone could see this obvious sign of CRIMINAL ACTIVITY and maybe we'd all think he was cool? He looked like a guy who wasn't embarrassed by the boot on his ankle.

Sheesh. I bet there's a story there.

- H

You think you have problems?

Have you ever found yourself inspecting your navel for lint, thinking your life is in a shambles? Maybe your hair didn't turn out right today. Or if you're like me, you have adult-onset acne. Or your neck is stiff. Or your new shoes hurt your feet. Oh my God, I'm talking about myself.

Yeah. You know you've done it.

A sweet co-worker of mine was recently diagnosed with Stage IV breast cancer. Metastasized to her liver and in her lymph nodes. She's my age.

Here's her story, if you're one for praying or positive energy thoughts, please visit her site and send her some well-wishes.

- H

In-flight reading

I’m on a flight back from a meeting in Dallas. Regrettably I was too cranky at the airport to buy a magazine for my in-flight enjoyment, and I’ve read the American Airlines magazine three times in the last two weeks.

So let’s turn our attention to the Sky Mall magazine. Otherwise known as The World’s Strangest Compilation of Stuff to Spend Your Money On.

For instance, did you know you can buy a toothbrush that cuts your brushing time by 60%?! It’s called the 40 Second Electronic Toothbrush. So now, instead of wasting two full minutes of precious time brushing your teeth, you can complete the job in 40 seconds with this neat-o contraption. For the low low bargain basement price of – get this – $99.95. Holy crap, that’s quite a bargain. I’d be saving almost 100 seconds, twice a day, that’s 200 seconds at the price of almost a hundred bucks, carry the one, that comes out to something like sixteen dollars per minute per month? Or not. I was an English major, not a mathemagician.

A few pages later they’re offering an authentic (very very different from the knock-offs you see everywhere like at Walgreen’s or Borders or gas stations) handmade Irish Shillelagh. Picture a cane without the curved handle. With a bumpy surface because it’s been carved out of wood with knots. And it has a copper tip so that if your kids get a hold of it it becomes a deadly weapon that is seriously more dangerous than lawn jarts ever were. In fact, in the description they say it evolved (because honestly, would a walking stick ever just spring to life on its own?) from traditional fighting sticks (of course) and are used today to herd sheep and cattle. Good thing it’s offered in the American Airlines Sky Mall catalog, otherwise sheep and goat herders would probably never get a chance to see it, you know?

They have a diamond-tipped microdermabrasion kit. For some reason, the thought of using diamonds on my skin doesn't make me very comfortable. Diamonds cut glass. My skin is sensitive enough as it is. Pass.

There’s a portable microwave oven for three hundred bucks. That’s kind of a cool idea for those of us who love irradiated food. And it’s red, so that's cute.

There’s a telekinetic obstacle course. You know, the thing everyone already has (for a hundred bucks) that hooks up your scalp to electrodes and uses your focused brainwaves energy to move a magnetic ball through an obstacle course? Blah blah. Boring.

The laser-guided pool cue. Come on, people. That’s like calling “shooting guns at animals that aren't also carrying guns” a sport. The fun of billiards is hitting the cue ball a thousand times with no success, but then one time by some freak of physics magic you get it right on the mark and sink another ball. That’s when you get to cheer and gloat and act like a ringer. Laser-guided pool cue, jeez. Takes all the fun out of it.

The indoor barking dog deterrent. For those inhumane animal owners who like to send ultrasonic piercing soundwaves through their dog’s brains at the mere sound of a bark. Which, by the way, is how dogs communicate. And how they protect us from intruders. But yes, let’s punish them for talking. For a mere $49.95. There's actually quite a few interesting pet related items. Like two different end tables - one that becomes a dog crate and one that becomes a cat perch. And don't forget the fake palm tree potted plant kitty litter container. Because I want my cat's kitty litter in the living room.

They have the requisite Slanket. And a framed Bon Jovi gold CD collection for your wall, because who doesn't love the eighties. What better gift than a framed collection of CDs you can't play on a stereo? Huh?

- H

A Halloween confession.

With the notable exception of my Most Excellent Halloween Spiders, and the planting and gardening that goes along with the season, I really am not that into Halloween. I am not one who spends months planning their darling children's costumes or thinking about what I could be. I don't go to Halloween parties (this may have more to do with never having been invited to one, but I digress). I just could care less, really.

It's a miracle I'm making the boys' costumes this year. Mostly it's because the stores aren't carrying anything cute, and cute does matter to me. I'm shallow.

I like the trick-or-treaters until 7:15, then I'm usually sick of the damned doorbell ringing and want them to go home. And if no one comes until 6:30, I'm usually ticked off that why are they skipping our house? Don't they know we give out rock star candy and we're nice? What, are they afraid of, the spiders? Sissies.

And then every year is the Very Sad Doorbell story, where the bell rings after 8:00 and it's two or three adults plus a few skinny, sickly kids without costumes, holding bags and basically needing the food because it's calories for their families. That's about when I want to shoot myself and join the Peace Corps. That's when I turn out the porch lights and lock the door.

So it may come as no surprise that the requisite Trip to Ye Olde Pumpkin Patch is not my favorite ritual either.

Today, we decided to torture ourselves and go before lunch. It would have helped if I'd looked up the weather forecast for today.

If I had, it would have read COLD AS HELL. Our car thermometer read 46 when we got there. I was not dressed for 46 and windy. With Halloween festivities.

So we whizzed through the not-so-scary haunted house (mostly so I could get in out of the wind), sat on the tractor and antique firetruck, ignored the sign on the tractor that said "Stay Off Tractor" (oops), and had a pony ride. Threw three pumpkins on the cart and got the hell out of there.

You may notice, my children were also not dressed for 46 and windy. Do they own hats?! Who knows. I usually have another month before I need to think about their heads.

Yeegads, next year I will be checking the weather and maybe coming down with strep throat or gangrene in a toe so I don't have to go.

But the kids had fun. That's all that matters.

- H

My post with unnecessary quotes

I'm sending this picture, snapped by me on my very own Blackberry, to the Blog of Unnecessary Quotes. I just thought I'd share it with you guys cause Lord knows she gets a lot of emails. And because I was so giddy to finally see some obviously unnecessary quotes I squealed like a schoolgirl!




- H