Mother of the Year

Yesterday, feeling overwhelmed, I started sobbing at work. Later, my computer crashed. Blue screen. "Beginning dump of physical memory." Not that there's ever a good time for that but, now? Really?

Around 7:00 p.m., on the way home, as I was losing my mind, one of my favorite songs was playing on The Zone (a station I never, ever listen to but may start now): Where is my Mind? And the bumper sticker on the truck in front of me read, "Nope to Self." What exactly does that mean?

As I pulled onto my street, I noticed my mom's car pulling into my driveway. She had gone for dinner/drinks with her girlfriends and brought with her an empty travel mug. Why? To buy a cosmopolitan for me, sneak it out of the restaurant and deliver it to my doorstep at the very moment I arrived home.

Some may call that enabling. I call that love.

Thanks mom.

Sign Sign Everywhere a Sign

On our trip, we encountered two signs that I wish I had snapped pictures of  (yeah, another pesky dangling preposition):

(1) "Back by popular demand: fried bologna biscuits" (Shining brightly in front of a vile Hardees somewhere near a real-life, Deliverance-like, hellhole in VA)

(2) "Antique tables made daily" (another VA gem)

The good news? I found the latter online. And, in an odd twist of fate, I think we actually own one.

Becoming Me

What do Mother Teresa, Jackie O., Chrissie Hynde, Samantha Bee/Amy Sedaris, Mary Tyler Moore, Sydney Ellen Wade, Elizabeth Gilbert and Oprah have in common?

If you figure it out, please let me know.

I've decided that I want to be a combination of all of those people. God-centered. Elegant. Accomplished. Sexy. Gritty. Funny. Smart and successful yet still cute and vulnerable. A talented writer who travels the world and makes millions (!). An entertainer (in my own, small way). Someone who makes the world a better place.

Until then . . .

LoOk It'S bACk

I don't want to jinx meself; however, it looks like my original post (below) is baaaaack.

Going Waco

Years ago, when the feds were piping loud music into the compound at Waco in an attempt to drive out cult leader David Koresh and the Branch Davidians, our friend Jason made the following observation, "If you really want to drive people crazy, don't blast Alice Cooper to a rock 'n' roller, pipe in 'Pop Goes the Weasel' at loud decibels for days on end."

Made sense to me.

Makes even more sense now. Son #1's saxamaphone teacher has her students practicing that song night after night after night. It's been confirmed: that song WILL drive you nuts even in 20 minute increments. Calgon take me away.

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers
They can't be seen with me

Dirty (Construction) Boots

I just downloaded a report from the World Economic Forum on Engineering and Construction: Scenarios to 2020 and subsequently clicked on the accompanying video. I was totally impressed with their choice of background music until I realized I still had my Pandora streaming.

In related news, if I ever highlight "My Girlfriends" on this blog, Kim Gordon will be front and center alongside Chrissie Hynde, Zooey Deschanel, Diane Lane and Natalie Portman.

Idiocracy

My neighbors "defriended" me on Facebook because they believe that I'm the "mole." It took me a while to notice because I had hidden their comments from my newsfeed.

I have a shocking news alert for them: Facebook is public. What they post, all of their "friends" can see -- including the "friend" they're bashing. No mole required. Crazy, I know.

Old adage: Good fences make good neighbors

Facebook addendum: Heinous public comments make bad neighbors. Own it.

I have also hidden the comments of an ex-coworker who shouts AWESOME in every post -- often myriad times throughout the day. "Just had lunch with my AWESOME wife." "Riding my bike to work on another AWESOME day." I can't stand another AWESOME sighting.

I think I'm becoming cranky.

Riddle Me This

Q: What happens when you're too tired to carry your laptop home even though you have heaps o' work to do?

A: Why you freak out, shower and come to work at 3:30 a.m., silly.

Isn't that what everyone does?

Snow White

While I don't have a New Year's resolution, per se, I joined Weight Watchers yesterday to take off the 15 pounds I gained over the last two years. I also began taking my vitamins again and added, per my acupuncturist's request, TwinLab's Cod Liver Oil with Mint which she claimed was like a tablespoon of whipped dessert but I think tastes, oddly enough, like cod liver oil with mint. This in combo with my DDR "workout," should leave me feeling less stressed and on top of my game once again.

So cheers to 2008 being the year where little birds sing at my shoulders and bunnies come to rest at my feet. Where the sun is always shining and my step is light and breezy.

And my fingers jump for joy at the sound of my keyboard gloriously typing business and marketing plans . . . or, better yet, a money tree begins to grow in my yard and bear fruit.

Yep, this'll be the year.

Fortune Cookie

I took my recent fortune cookie as a sign from God. It read, "You are offered the dream of a lifetime. Say yes!"

My husband took the fact that I was now believing in fortune cookies as a sign of the ongoing and prolonged demise of my faculties.