PaulA is a regular GPS device. His developed map skills and built-in compass amaze me. He can get around major cities and even foreign countries without any trouble.
We were in Italy on vacation with some good friends…Hope and Dig. :) We rented a small car…is there any other kind there? We got around the entire country with Dig at the wheel and PaulA navigating the signs and maps. They did a great job especially with every sign in Italian. “Pizons Alt!” They make a good driving team...you might see them on Amazing Race one day (that is, if Dig can talk PaulA into it.) And Hope and Kat make a good sleeping-in-the-back-of-the-car-with-our-mouths-wide-open-catching-flies team…you might see us on Amazing Race too.
The only time PaulA’s internal GPS system is not working, is when he is looking for something in the refrigerator. OMG he can’t find anything…he yells to me when I am upstairs, “Kat, do we have any Miracle Whip? I don’t see it.” …It is there honey, next to the Hellman’s! …. “I don’t see it.”…..Then use the Hellman's…what’s the big deal???
The frig is only 25 square feet, but for some reason he is lost in there. Italy was 345677889 billion square miles and he did just fine. Go figure!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Very Meaty Story
Here comes the meat man…meat man you ask? Jokes aside, the meat man is the guy who delivers meat to our house…and I’m talking pork chops, hamburger, steaks, chicken. By the way, I don’t call him meat man to his face. I actually use his real name. When his truck pulls up to our house, I know I am on the meat hook.
We have known the meat man for over 10 years. The first day he showed up out of nowhere. Drove up in his pick-up truck with one of those deep freezers with the smoking ice. A regular butcher on wheels. With 3 little kids running around…I was an easy sell. It seemed like a great idea. I would always have something I could throw on the table…I mean lovingly prepare for my beautiful family. The only problem is, all 3 kids are not here anymore to eat all that meat. Do I need to be sitting at home gnawing on spare ribs and pork chops?
Being the salesman that he is…he gives me all the reasons why I should buy meat. Like…I would have meals for whenever Colinboy came home from college…and did I know college boys ate a lot of food? (duh) Oh, and I could have my friends over and entertain them. (Now that is an entertaining idea.)
I’m okay with the meat man giving me meat advice. The thing that gets me is…the meat man likes to give decorating advice…comments on what I have done with the house and even makes suggestions on paint colors and furniture. Decorating advice from the meat man is like…learning to dance from Heather Mills. Total Horse Meat!
Knock, Knock
Who’s there?
Meat man
Meat man who?
Meet man in St. Louis….okay not a good one
Knock knock…
Who’s there
Land Shark
Land Shark who
Land Shark eat Meat man….any better?
We have known the meat man for over 10 years. The first day he showed up out of nowhere. Drove up in his pick-up truck with one of those deep freezers with the smoking ice. A regular butcher on wheels. With 3 little kids running around…I was an easy sell. It seemed like a great idea. I would always have something I could throw on the table…I mean lovingly prepare for my beautiful family. The only problem is, all 3 kids are not here anymore to eat all that meat. Do I need to be sitting at home gnawing on spare ribs and pork chops?
Being the salesman that he is…he gives me all the reasons why I should buy meat. Like…I would have meals for whenever Colinboy came home from college…and did I know college boys ate a lot of food? (duh) Oh, and I could have my friends over and entertain them. (Now that is an entertaining idea.)
I’m okay with the meat man giving me meat advice. The thing that gets me is…the meat man likes to give decorating advice…comments on what I have done with the house and even makes suggestions on paint colors and furniture. Decorating advice from the meat man is like…learning to dance from Heather Mills. Total Horse Meat!
Knock, Knock
Who’s there?
Meat man
Meat man who?
Meet man in St. Louis….okay not a good one
Knock knock…
Who’s there
Land Shark
Land Shark who
Land Shark eat Meat man….any better?
Monday, April 28, 2008
A-scaredyKat
I was born a-scaredyKat and you could say, I still am. I am the type of person who looks under the bed in a hotel room and pulls back the shower curtain. God forbid…someone jumped out. To this day…and I mean today…after looking for something in the storage side of our basement, I turned the lights off and ran up the stairs as fast as I could…as if I was being chased by the boogie man. How old am I? My treadmill is in the basement…reason right there not to work out. What if a wild madman is lurking down there, waiting to pounce on anyone wanting to get physical fit?
Back in the day before we had kids, PaulA and I lived in Jacksonville….It was our first night in our new house after living in a hotel for 3 months. PaulA had to be away on a business trip…so scaredyKat had to spend her first night alone. We had the phone installed and it rang…at 2 o’clock in the morning. I jumped to answer it and there was silence… then a hang-up!!!! I spent the rest of the night on the tile floor by the front door…in case I needed a quick exit. That was before I had Colinboy.
I think my kids at a young age caught on to my scaredyKat tendencies. One night when PaulA was traveling…I heard a thud that woke me up. I jumped out of bed and looked around. Nothing. Then I went down the hall to Colin’s room. He was getting back in bed. I asked, “Colin, did you hear that noise?” He replied, “Mom it was me.” (Then I saw that he was getting back in his bed…with his baseball bat.) So I asked, “Colin is that a bat?” He said, “Mom, it was just me. Okay, it was just me.” I didn’t say another word.
When PaulA is gone…this scaredyKat still sleeps with one eye open. I don’t have Colinboy at home anymore with his bat to protect me.
Back in the day before we had kids, PaulA and I lived in Jacksonville….It was our first night in our new house after living in a hotel for 3 months. PaulA had to be away on a business trip…so scaredyKat had to spend her first night alone. We had the phone installed and it rang…at 2 o’clock in the morning. I jumped to answer it and there was silence… then a hang-up!!!! I spent the rest of the night on the tile floor by the front door…in case I needed a quick exit. That was before I had Colinboy.
I think my kids at a young age caught on to my scaredyKat tendencies. One night when PaulA was traveling…I heard a thud that woke me up. I jumped out of bed and looked around. Nothing. Then I went down the hall to Colin’s room. He was getting back in bed. I asked, “Colin, did you hear that noise?” He replied, “Mom it was me.” (Then I saw that he was getting back in his bed…with his baseball bat.) So I asked, “Colin is that a bat?” He said, “Mom, it was just me. Okay, it was just me.” I didn’t say another word.
When PaulA is gone…this scaredyKat still sleeps with one eye open. I don’t have Colinboy at home anymore with his bat to protect me.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Briefly Speaking
Sometimes I think my blogs might be too long…contain superfluous words and descriptions. Get to the point Kat. Where are you going with this?
Some people are full of…words…and like to use many words to describe something. And then there are others who use few words….like to keep it simple and do not elaborate.
PaulA is a man of many words. When he tells a story, he elaborates… and makes a good story even better. Being a man of many words, is a good thing especially when you make a living doing deals. Otherwise saying, “Here’s the deal…take it or leave it.”…not so good and we would have starved long ago. Colin can also be very elaborate when telling a story, but will keep it short…very short…when it works in his behalf. “Mom, I didn’t do it.”
With the written word, people do not want to read long dissertations. They get bored fast and start skimming. That is why email and text messaging is so popular…it’s a fast-paced world out there and could you hurry up, please? Long emails…go by the way side…or straight to the digital trash can. My favorite emails are the ones that contain pictures and no words.
It is an art to express yourself in writing with as few words as possible. Let's see:
Kat, a middle-aged blogger, enjoys spending her free time writing blogs at her computer as she wistfully gazes out the window, lost in thought.
vs
Old Kat wastes her time blogging.
I could have written this entire blog with fewer words:
Some people are long-winded, and some have no wind. People don’t like to read long emails. Kat is an old blogger.
Some people are full of…words…and like to use many words to describe something. And then there are others who use few words….like to keep it simple and do not elaborate.
PaulA is a man of many words. When he tells a story, he elaborates… and makes a good story even better. Being a man of many words, is a good thing especially when you make a living doing deals. Otherwise saying, “Here’s the deal…take it or leave it.”…not so good and we would have starved long ago. Colin can also be very elaborate when telling a story, but will keep it short…very short…when it works in his behalf. “Mom, I didn’t do it.”
With the written word, people do not want to read long dissertations. They get bored fast and start skimming. That is why email and text messaging is so popular…it’s a fast-paced world out there and could you hurry up, please? Long emails…go by the way side…or straight to the digital trash can. My favorite emails are the ones that contain pictures and no words.
It is an art to express yourself in writing with as few words as possible. Let's see:
Kat, a middle-aged blogger, enjoys spending her free time writing blogs at her computer as she wistfully gazes out the window, lost in thought.
vs
Old Kat wastes her time blogging.
I could have written this entire blog with fewer words:
Some people are long-winded, and some have no wind. People don’t like to read long emails. Kat is an old blogger.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Blog Habit
Have you missed me? (Ya Kat, like a hole in the head.) I was thinking I better post a blog soon otherwise I would lose what few peeps I have…and then I would be peep-less. And what is a blogger without peeps? Think of Little Bo with out her peep…very sad.
Wishy has a vacation week off from school…so I decided to try a vacation from my blog. I needed to see what it would be like to give up my habitual blog posting. What would happen to me? I was wondering if I would go through blog withdrawal and start getting the shakes ...from lack of blog. The blog is powerful stuff. Before you realize it, the blog has its grip on you and you’re hooked. I have posted over 100 blogs and I am beginning to doubt my contribution as a productive member of society…hiding behind my blue screen and blinking cursor.
I thought I should take a break from blogworld…maybe start with shorter and shorter blogs. See if I could make it through one day…put one blogless day in front of another…and eventually string 2 blog-free days together….get something going.
Instead, I decided to go for it... go cold blog turkey…and I made it through 3 whole days. Then I slipped. They say you do that when you try to go cold turkey…that there is always set backs and it is common to fall off the blogger wagon.
So I acknowledge my weakness …Hi I am Kat and I am a hack blogger. I am admitting that I am powerless over writing mindless blogs. I have to examine my past blogs and make amends to those reading my postings. Maybe I need an intervention…have my family gather around me and tell me how I have not attended to their needs because I have been wallowing in blogs. Maybe a sponsor could help stop me when I feel the need to sneak off and fire off a blog.
I never thought that when I first started blogging back in September 2007 that I would still be blogging today. The blogspot website should come with a warning: Caution! Blogging can become habit forming. And lucky for you, I am finding it hard to kick the blog habit. :)
Wishy has a vacation week off from school…so I decided to try a vacation from my blog. I needed to see what it would be like to give up my habitual blog posting. What would happen to me? I was wondering if I would go through blog withdrawal and start getting the shakes ...from lack of blog. The blog is powerful stuff. Before you realize it, the blog has its grip on you and you’re hooked. I have posted over 100 blogs and I am beginning to doubt my contribution as a productive member of society…hiding behind my blue screen and blinking cursor.
I thought I should take a break from blogworld…maybe start with shorter and shorter blogs. See if I could make it through one day…put one blogless day in front of another…and eventually string 2 blog-free days together….get something going.
Instead, I decided to go for it... go cold blog turkey…and I made it through 3 whole days. Then I slipped. They say you do that when you try to go cold turkey…that there is always set backs and it is common to fall off the blogger wagon.
So I acknowledge my weakness …Hi I am Kat and I am a hack blogger. I am admitting that I am powerless over writing mindless blogs. I have to examine my past blogs and make amends to those reading my postings. Maybe I need an intervention…have my family gather around me and tell me how I have not attended to their needs because I have been wallowing in blogs. Maybe a sponsor could help stop me when I feel the need to sneak off and fire off a blog.
I never thought that when I first started blogging back in September 2007 that I would still be blogging today. The blogspot website should come with a warning: Caution! Blogging can become habit forming. And lucky for you, I am finding it hard to kick the blog habit. :)
Friday, April 18, 2008
Pope Benedict XVI - The Closer
Pope Benedict XVI… is here! The Pope visiting America is a big deal even if you aren’t Catholic. You gotta love the Pope. And if you aren’t much of a fan…you gotta love Pope on a rope…a classic.
Pope Benedict will be in the U.S. for 6 days and will visit Washington D.C.(God knows G.W. needs some extra blessings), Ground Zero (God Bless the sacred ground), and Yankee Stadium(God knows the Yanks need mega blessings.) He will hold Mass for 57,000 worshippers in Yankee Stadium. Even with all those seats…you can’t get one now. I wonder if anyone is scalping tickets (admittedly, not very Christian.)
I’m wondering how long Mass will last inside Yankee Stadium. Mass usually lasts an hour…just the way Catholics like it…get in and get out. But maybe this will be like one of those marathon Yankee/Red Sox games and go for 6 hours. Yikes! (Note to self: do not try to scalp tickets.) I would think with a longer service (thus making us Catholics very fidgety) they would have a seventh inning stretch…I think that would make Mass very enjoyable. Maybe sing my new rendition of “Take me out to the …” during the stretch. This could become a new Catholic tradition.
I was thinking it was too bad the Yankees were out of town and the Pope won't be able to watch a game, eat some peanuts and spill some beer. I just hope that the Pope’s visiting Yankee Stadium doesn’t give the Yanks the one up on winning games against our beloved Red Sox.
You can’t mention the Pope without mentioning the Popemobile….not a dignified name, but a cool ride. I’m sure if Pope Clement V, back in the 1400s, saw the Popemobile of 2008… he’d give his gold mitre for one. A much better way to get around…then schlepping (I mean, spreading the Word) around the empire in the hot Roman sun while sweating profusely under heavy garb.
The other thing you can’t go without mentioning is the Pope’s red shoes. Have you seen them peeking out from under his long Pope kimono? He has brought back the tradition of wearing red shoes…they give him much needed fashion. He actually reminds me of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz…..
When Pope Benedict heads for home…he’ll pack up his things…his Pope kimono, cape, and Popemobile. Then he’ll close his eyes, tap his heels together three times. And think, there’s no place like the Vatican.
“Take Me Out…” for the Pope’s Mass in Yankee Stadium:
Take me out to the Pope’s Mass
Take me out to the vowed
Buy me a rosary and crusifix
I don't care if I ever get kicks
And it's root, root, root for the Catholics
If they don't win, it's a shame
Cause it's one, two, three sins
You're out
At the old Pope’s Mass
Pope Benedict will be in the U.S. for 6 days and will visit Washington D.C.(God knows G.W. needs some extra blessings), Ground Zero (God Bless the sacred ground), and Yankee Stadium(God knows the Yanks need mega blessings.) He will hold Mass for 57,000 worshippers in Yankee Stadium. Even with all those seats…you can’t get one now. I wonder if anyone is scalping tickets (admittedly, not very Christian.)
I’m wondering how long Mass will last inside Yankee Stadium. Mass usually lasts an hour…just the way Catholics like it…get in and get out. But maybe this will be like one of those marathon Yankee/Red Sox games and go for 6 hours. Yikes! (Note to self: do not try to scalp tickets.) I would think with a longer service (thus making us Catholics very fidgety) they would have a seventh inning stretch…I think that would make Mass very enjoyable. Maybe sing my new rendition of “Take me out to the …” during the stretch. This could become a new Catholic tradition.
I was thinking it was too bad the Yankees were out of town and the Pope won't be able to watch a game, eat some peanuts and spill some beer. I just hope that the Pope’s visiting Yankee Stadium doesn’t give the Yanks the one up on winning games against our beloved Red Sox.
You can’t mention the Pope without mentioning the Popemobile….not a dignified name, but a cool ride. I’m sure if Pope Clement V, back in the 1400s, saw the Popemobile of 2008… he’d give his gold mitre for one. A much better way to get around…then schlepping (I mean, spreading the Word) around the empire in the hot Roman sun while sweating profusely under heavy garb.
The other thing you can’t go without mentioning is the Pope’s red shoes. Have you seen them peeking out from under his long Pope kimono? He has brought back the tradition of wearing red shoes…they give him much needed fashion. He actually reminds me of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz…..
When Pope Benedict heads for home…he’ll pack up his things…his Pope kimono, cape, and Popemobile. Then he’ll close his eyes, tap his heels together three times. And think, there’s no place like the Vatican.
“Take Me Out…” for the Pope’s Mass in Yankee Stadium:
Take me out to the Pope’s Mass
Take me out to the vowed
Buy me a rosary and crusifix
I don't care if I ever get kicks
And it's root, root, root for the Catholics
If they don't win, it's a shame
Cause it's one, two, three sins
You're out
At the old Pope’s Mass
Thursday, April 17, 2008
A Super Big Kid
Do you know an adult who is a big kid? We do…we’ve been friends with him for a long, long time. This person passed the age of 40 a few years ago…but missed the memo: “Dude…you have entered middle age.”
The best description of him would be during the annual Fourth of July parade on the Block…not the cell bloc at Sing Sing (I’m sure he was never incarcerated.) I’m talking Block Island. This was before the Block officials changed the parade route and put wild and crazy guys like him out of business. Guys like him were having a little too much fun.
You know the guy…the guy carrying a 100-ounce water tank capacity super-soaker… backup water pistols…and water balloons. Each year his super soaker got bigger and more high tech. He would take no prisoners. Just give him a reason…or no reason…and he would take you out. Those poor unassuming parade watchers would get an eyeful they were not expecting.
Every year the parade has a theme and everyone is welcomed to enter. He would always enter the parade under the guise of getting the kids involved. The themes over the years have been varied…a story book, a movie, a T.V show, or a president. It was interesting to see how he conveniently fit a water device into every theme. “What, I thought everybody knew George Washington carried a super-soaker and water balloons to ward off the British….I swear the 101 Dalmatians used super soakers to wash their spots off.”
And when it is his birthday…he is expecting the Big Kahuna treatment. You have to hand it to his wife…the pressure is on her each year to come up with the perfect celebration. (Girlfriend, you’ve got less than 2 months…tick, tock.) She has done an amazing job with his 30th and his 40th birthdays…each memorable parties …but his 50th will have to be the super duper of all events. (I just hope she has started planning…only 6 years left.) I’ve already thought of his gift for his 50th….(duh, get with the program already)…a super big, super-soaker.
The upside of having a super friend who is a super big kid is…he will keep the rest of his friends young…and Lord knows we could use that.
The best description of him would be during the annual Fourth of July parade on the Block…not the cell bloc at Sing Sing (I’m sure he was never incarcerated.) I’m talking Block Island. This was before the Block officials changed the parade route and put wild and crazy guys like him out of business. Guys like him were having a little too much fun.
You know the guy…the guy carrying a 100-ounce water tank capacity super-soaker… backup water pistols…and water balloons. Each year his super soaker got bigger and more high tech. He would take no prisoners. Just give him a reason…or no reason…and he would take you out. Those poor unassuming parade watchers would get an eyeful they were not expecting.
Every year the parade has a theme and everyone is welcomed to enter. He would always enter the parade under the guise of getting the kids involved. The themes over the years have been varied…a story book, a movie, a T.V show, or a president. It was interesting to see how he conveniently fit a water device into every theme. “What, I thought everybody knew George Washington carried a super-soaker and water balloons to ward off the British….I swear the 101 Dalmatians used super soakers to wash their spots off.”
And when it is his birthday…he is expecting the Big Kahuna treatment. You have to hand it to his wife…the pressure is on her each year to come up with the perfect celebration. (Girlfriend, you’ve got less than 2 months…tick, tock.) She has done an amazing job with his 30th and his 40th birthdays…each memorable parties …but his 50th will have to be the super duper of all events. (I just hope she has started planning…only 6 years left.) I’ve already thought of his gift for his 50th….(duh, get with the program already)…a super big, super-soaker.
The upside of having a super friend who is a super big kid is…he will keep the rest of his friends young…and Lord knows we could use that.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Taxed-Off
PaulA asked me why I didn’t post a blog about tax day yesterday… April 15th. I actually forgot it was tax day. I guess you can see who the bread winner is in our family…and who lives in La-La land.
I am not totally ignorant about taxes. I do understand them…I am not that far out there. I know…that you work hard, everyday, through sickness and snow, sometimes without lunch, to earn a paycheck. I know…you do this over and over for at least 40 or so years until hopefully you can retire. I know…the government takes most of what you earn and has plans to take more. I know…PaulA groans loudly when he looks at his total taxes paid.
I do see the tax forms every year and I sign my name on the dotted line. PaulA has me read them before I sign. I get out my readers, and I take a close look… making sure that the accountant has done his job correctly…looking for mistakes in subtraction. Most tax accountants love it when I check their work.
I remember back in the day when I had a responsible job that paid a salary. It taxed-me-off that Uncle Sam could actually take my money. The job I have now (blogger extraordinaire) is non-paying…but if Uncle Sam could figure out a way to take taxes out of a non-paying job…I am sure he would.
Uncle Sam is disguised as a nice guy who wants to see everybody gainfully employed…but he’s really the grim reaper. He even comes up with new things to tax every year. OMG, there might be a tax on blogging that we haven’t heard about and the IRS will be looking for me.
The Tax Man Taketh Your Money…the Tax Man Looketh to Taketh More next year.
I am not totally ignorant about taxes. I do understand them…I am not that far out there. I know…that you work hard, everyday, through sickness and snow, sometimes without lunch, to earn a paycheck. I know…you do this over and over for at least 40 or so years until hopefully you can retire. I know…the government takes most of what you earn and has plans to take more. I know…PaulA groans loudly when he looks at his total taxes paid.
I do see the tax forms every year and I sign my name on the dotted line. PaulA has me read them before I sign. I get out my readers, and I take a close look… making sure that the accountant has done his job correctly…looking for mistakes in subtraction. Most tax accountants love it when I check their work.
I remember back in the day when I had a responsible job that paid a salary. It taxed-me-off that Uncle Sam could actually take my money. The job I have now (blogger extraordinaire) is non-paying…but if Uncle Sam could figure out a way to take taxes out of a non-paying job…I am sure he would.
Uncle Sam is disguised as a nice guy who wants to see everybody gainfully employed…but he’s really the grim reaper. He even comes up with new things to tax every year. OMG, there might be a tax on blogging that we haven’t heard about and the IRS will be looking for me.
The Tax Man Taketh Your Money…the Tax Man Looketh to Taketh More next year.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
I Scream, You Scream, Moms Scream
One of my favorite things as a kid was the ice cream truck…hearing the happy music off in the distance…listening as it got closer and closer….knowing it was coming to my street. The anticipation was too much. Kids everywhere would stop what they were doing and come running from every direction. So many choices…what ice cream to choose…colorful pictures of popsicles, nutty buddys, push-ups…on the side of the truck. The Ice Cream Man would put smiles on kid’s faces and then head out for another neighborhood… the sign on the back: Watch that child!
Every now and again an ice cream truck comes to our neighborhood. Ice cream is my number one food group, but I was just thinking how much more I would appreciate a…What’s for dinner truck…a sort of meals-on -wheels…one that came through our neighborhood every afternoon.
I’m loving this idea. I can picture it now. You would hear the theme song to the Rachael Ray Show in the distance...listening as it got closer and closer. And then it would pull up…a truck filled with prepared meals that you could serve your family for dinner.
Over-worked, stay-at-home Moms everywhere would drop what they were doing...put down their playing cards, mah jongg tiles, their golf bags, and tennis racquets…..and run to the truck. So many choices…What’s for diner tonight…colorful pictures of pasta, chicken, beef…on the side of the truck. (Even gallons of milk…just in case you ran out.) The dinner truck would put smiles on Mom’s faces and then head out for another neighborhood…the sign on the back: Watch that Mom!
Families everywhere would be happy….and over-worked Moms would have time to get back to what they were doing…. “Who’s got the Ace of Hearts??” “Anyone for another 9 holes?” “Hey…I got mah jongg!”
Every now and again an ice cream truck comes to our neighborhood. Ice cream is my number one food group, but I was just thinking how much more I would appreciate a…What’s for dinner truck…a sort of meals-on -wheels…one that came through our neighborhood every afternoon.
I’m loving this idea. I can picture it now. You would hear the theme song to the Rachael Ray Show in the distance...listening as it got closer and closer. And then it would pull up…a truck filled with prepared meals that you could serve your family for dinner.
Over-worked, stay-at-home Moms everywhere would drop what they were doing...put down their playing cards, mah jongg tiles, their golf bags, and tennis racquets…..and run to the truck. So many choices…What’s for diner tonight…colorful pictures of pasta, chicken, beef…on the side of the truck. (Even gallons of milk…just in case you ran out.) The dinner truck would put smiles on Mom’s faces and then head out for another neighborhood…the sign on the back: Watch that Mom!
Families everywhere would be happy….and over-worked Moms would have time to get back to what they were doing…. “Who’s got the Ace of Hearts??” “Anyone for another 9 holes?” “Hey…I got mah jongg!”
Monday, April 14, 2008
Pregnant Man
Huge news…Oprah aired the first pregnant man on her show the other day. (pun intended) Women everywhere were running to their TV sets…calling each other on the phone…setting their DVRs to capture it all. Finally a pregnant man! It’s about time a man knows how it feels. The man has it easy for 9 months and only has to play “coach” for the delivery. I wish I could have traded places with PaulA during my deliveries. I am having a flash back...
…Flashing back to when PaulA was “my coach” for Brianna’s delivery. It was 5 AM and I was in the middle of labor. PaulA was holding my hand and then he did it….he freakin’ yawned! A big fat yawn in my face. That really set me off… “Hello, am I boring you here!!” Back to Oprah……..
Pregnant man…my uterus! By the way, that is exactly what that man has. He was born a girl…a beautiful girl who even won a beauty pageant. I can understand that “she” has always felt like a “he.” (I am okay with the transgender thing…after all, this is 2008 and I’m “on bored” with that already…that was so last year.) I can understand that he feels like he should have been born a “he” and not a “she.”…but just because you cut your hair, take some testosterone, grow a beard and cut-off your breasts…(whoa now!) does not a biological man you make.
Sorry dude...you may be feeling nauseous, have swollen ankles, and cheese whiz sandwich cravings…but the fact that you own a uterus, fallopian tubes and eggs prevents you from being the first pregnant man.
By the way, Congratulations …giving birth to a human is a miracle…no matter who you are.
…Flashing back to when PaulA was “my coach” for Brianna’s delivery. It was 5 AM and I was in the middle of labor. PaulA was holding my hand and then he did it….he freakin’ yawned! A big fat yawn in my face. That really set me off… “Hello, am I boring you here!!” Back to Oprah……..
Pregnant man…my uterus! By the way, that is exactly what that man has. He was born a girl…a beautiful girl who even won a beauty pageant. I can understand that “she” has always felt like a “he.” (I am okay with the transgender thing…after all, this is 2008 and I’m “on bored” with that already…that was so last year.) I can understand that he feels like he should have been born a “he” and not a “she.”…but just because you cut your hair, take some testosterone, grow a beard and cut-off your breasts…(whoa now!) does not a biological man you make.
Sorry dude...you may be feeling nauseous, have swollen ankles, and cheese whiz sandwich cravings…but the fact that you own a uterus, fallopian tubes and eggs prevents you from being the first pregnant man.
By the way, Congratulations …giving birth to a human is a miracle…no matter who you are.
Friday, April 11, 2008
You've Got Mail!
Ahhh, I just love it when Benny, the Voice inside my computer announces, “You’ve got Mail.” That’s the greatest. Almost as good as when I go to our mailbox and find a letter…instead of another Capital One “No-Hassle” credit card offer.
I turn the volume way up on my computer just to hear Benny. The only problem with that is… I hear a door slam every time anyone from my buddy list signs off. The slam can be so startling, that I actually jump off my chair. Then there is the creaking sound of a door opening when someone signs onto my buddy list. (Come on AOL geeks, get a little oil and fix that.) You would think that all these noises would make me turn down the volume…but nope…I am waiting to hear from Benny, the Voice…
I guess if I wanted to hear “You’ve got mail” more often…I could send myself emails all day long. But that would be totally pathetic. I would never do that…Kat is not that desperate.
Yes! Benny just announced, “You’ve got mail.” All of a sudden I feel so popular. I spy the little mailbox with the red flag up and a little letter sticking out. It shows I have 2 emails…“Yea, I’ve got mail!!! I click on it…. Let’s see...
First email…Paddle practice cancelled due to rain. (duh)
Second email…Viagra sales up. (double duh)
Just like my mailbox outside my house….lots of crap still finds me. But there is always that moment of excitement when Benny, the Voice announces, “You’ve got mail!”
I turn the volume way up on my computer just to hear Benny. The only problem with that is… I hear a door slam every time anyone from my buddy list signs off. The slam can be so startling, that I actually jump off my chair. Then there is the creaking sound of a door opening when someone signs onto my buddy list. (Come on AOL geeks, get a little oil and fix that.) You would think that all these noises would make me turn down the volume…but nope…I am waiting to hear from Benny, the Voice…
I guess if I wanted to hear “You’ve got mail” more often…I could send myself emails all day long. But that would be totally pathetic. I would never do that…Kat is not that desperate.
Yes! Benny just announced, “You’ve got mail.” All of a sudden I feel so popular. I spy the little mailbox with the red flag up and a little letter sticking out. It shows I have 2 emails…“Yea, I’ve got mail!!! I click on it…. Let’s see...
First email…Paddle practice cancelled due to rain. (duh)
Second email…Viagra sales up. (double duh)
Just like my mailbox outside my house….lots of crap still finds me. But there is always that moment of excitement when Benny, the Voice announces, “You’ve got mail!”
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Super Powers
Sometimes it is fun to think about super powers. (Admittedly, I am a little odd.) There is a television show called Heroes where the characters have different powers. So I got to thinking, hmmm…what power would I choose if I could choose only one?
This is a harder decision than I originally thought. Let’s see….Oh, to fly! Naw…I am uncomfortable flying in a plane…so I wouldn’t enjoy flying by the seat of my pants.
X-ray vision? Forget that! Do I really want to be sitting in church and looking around at people? I don’t want to know what people look like underneath their clothing…especially the priest.
Mind Reader? Nope, definitely not that! Read the bubble over people’s heads and know exactly what they are thinking? PaulA’s bubble: Kat is looking particularly scary this morning.
Tell the future? Nope! I don’t want to know that some geezer is going to back his car into mine at Dunkin Donuts next week.
Super strength? Forget that! Then I would be busy all day moving furniture and pianos around for people.
Invisible? Not sure about that one. Good when someone is asking, “Where’s mom?” But bad when you hear all the nasty stuff people are saying about you (‘cause they think you are in the bathroom and not sitting at the table, right beside them.)
Got it! There is one power that I would love… Super Metabolism. Whatever you eat is instantly metabolized so it can’t turn to fat. I could saunter up to the take-out counter, and order anything, “Yes, I’ll have the cheese burger with bacon and extra cheese, cheesy fries with extra cheese, and an extra large chocolate shake, and side order of cheese.” That’s my afternoon snack before dinner.
I wouldn’t ever have to think calories, cuz I would be …da..da…da…daaaa… SUPER METABOLISM girl!!! Yes !!! Super Metabolism girl…Able to burn thousands of calories at a single meal. Now that is what I am talking about!
What would you choose?
This is a harder decision than I originally thought. Let’s see….Oh, to fly! Naw…I am uncomfortable flying in a plane…so I wouldn’t enjoy flying by the seat of my pants.
X-ray vision? Forget that! Do I really want to be sitting in church and looking around at people? I don’t want to know what people look like underneath their clothing…especially the priest.
Mind Reader? Nope, definitely not that! Read the bubble over people’s heads and know exactly what they are thinking? PaulA’s bubble: Kat is looking particularly scary this morning.
Tell the future? Nope! I don’t want to know that some geezer is going to back his car into mine at Dunkin Donuts next week.
Super strength? Forget that! Then I would be busy all day moving furniture and pianos around for people.
Invisible? Not sure about that one. Good when someone is asking, “Where’s mom?” But bad when you hear all the nasty stuff people are saying about you (‘cause they think you are in the bathroom and not sitting at the table, right beside them.)
Got it! There is one power that I would love… Super Metabolism. Whatever you eat is instantly metabolized so it can’t turn to fat. I could saunter up to the take-out counter, and order anything, “Yes, I’ll have the cheese burger with bacon and extra cheese, cheesy fries with extra cheese, and an extra large chocolate shake, and side order of cheese.” That’s my afternoon snack before dinner.
I wouldn’t ever have to think calories, cuz I would be …da..da…da…daaaa… SUPER METABOLISM girl!!! Yes !!! Super Metabolism girl…Able to burn thousands of calories at a single meal. Now that is what I am talking about!
What would you choose?
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Queen of Mess
OMG I just walked into Wishy’s bedroom! Wish is a wonderful daughter and sweet as can be, but is a messy girl. I’m not talking about her appearance. She always looks good and that totally amazes me when I look at her room. How does she manage to get dressed in the morning? She might have a system that I just don’t understand. Maybe the clothes on the floor tell her that she has worn those and to choose something else, and the clothes on the bed and chair are future possibilities. And the clothes over the door…and the clothes falling out of her bureau...and the clothes hanging from the lamp…well, I haven’t figured out her whole system yet.
What is it about teenagers that they can’t put anything away, or hang anything up? Wishy used to make her bed when she was in elementary school. I used to think BigC was Queen of Mess…but Wishy took her crown away a long time ago. Once I took pictures of all her crapola strewn around her room and made a poster. I posted it on the refrigerator door: “Wanted: Someone to clean this room. Reward: to any one who will clean-up this mess.” It worked…her friends offered to clean her room.
I have to tell myself not to go into her messy kingdom…keep walking Kat. In spite of all the begging, reprimanding, and public humiliation….Wishy is happy to continue to reign as Queen of Mess. I need to invite a few of her royal subjects over here…where is that reward poster?
What is it about teenagers that they can’t put anything away, or hang anything up? Wishy used to make her bed when she was in elementary school. I used to think BigC was Queen of Mess…but Wishy took her crown away a long time ago. Once I took pictures of all her crapola strewn around her room and made a poster. I posted it on the refrigerator door: “Wanted: Someone to clean this room. Reward: to any one who will clean-up this mess.” It worked…her friends offered to clean her room.
I have to tell myself not to go into her messy kingdom…keep walking Kat. In spite of all the begging, reprimanding, and public humiliation….Wishy is happy to continue to reign as Queen of Mess. I need to invite a few of her royal subjects over here…where is that reward poster?
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Just...Rubbish!
There is no accent cooler than an English accent. The reason that green gecko on the GEICO commercials works is because his accent makes him charming and gives him credibility. The American accent doesn’t stand a chance next to the English accent. When an American says, “pass the ketchup”, it sounds so pedestrian… but when a Brit says the same thing …Presto, the ketchup is now a fine reserve condiment. The person is seen as intelligent, and charismatic …just like our green gecko friend.
For some people, accents are easy to pick up. (Just listen to Madonna who is from Michigan.) I have to watch myself around my English friend. I don’t want it to seem like I am mocking her…I actually love her accent. But if I am not careful, within 45 minutes I am sounding like the late Margaret Thatcher.
Some English people never loose their accent…even after living here for 25 years. Maybe they play a tape over and over while they are sleeping : “I am feeling peckish. That food looks scrummy. I watch the telly whilst lying on the settee.”
It is funny how the English and Americans speak the same language, but use different English words for the same thing… holiday is a vacation, lift is an elevator, vest is an undershirt. And my favorite…Hooters are noses. (Interesting) If a man is said to be wearing pants and suspenders, the English picture him wearing underwear and a garter belt. (Very Interesting)
As far as accents go, I am hanging around English folks from now on… …that way I will sound more sophisticated...“Sorry to trouble you madam, however, I am in dire need of your loo.” So much better than…“Hey lady, where’s your can?”
For some people, accents are easy to pick up. (Just listen to Madonna who is from Michigan.) I have to watch myself around my English friend. I don’t want it to seem like I am mocking her…I actually love her accent. But if I am not careful, within 45 minutes I am sounding like the late Margaret Thatcher.
Some English people never loose their accent…even after living here for 25 years. Maybe they play a tape over and over while they are sleeping : “I am feeling peckish. That food looks scrummy. I watch the telly whilst lying on the settee.”
It is funny how the English and Americans speak the same language, but use different English words for the same thing… holiday is a vacation, lift is an elevator, vest is an undershirt. And my favorite…Hooters are noses. (Interesting) If a man is said to be wearing pants and suspenders, the English picture him wearing underwear and a garter belt. (Very Interesting)
As far as accents go, I am hanging around English folks from now on… …that way I will sound more sophisticated...“Sorry to trouble you madam, however, I am in dire need of your loo.” So much better than…“Hey lady, where’s your can?”
Monday, April 7, 2008
Lucky Number
Do you have a lucky number? Come on, I bet you do. You could be 8 or 88 and you have a lucky number…or one that you like. So you like the number for some special reason…either it’s your birthday, the number of kids you have, the number of girls you dated …the number of girls you wish you dated. And if you are Warren Jeffs …it could be the number 45, for the number of wives you have.
But you have one. Mine is 11. Once when I was in the 6th grade, I was in a Halloween costume contest. (Okay, this is lame.) We were given numbers and had to walk across a stage…and then were picked for best costume. The number on my penny was 11 and I won (the very last thing I won)...so I adopted the number 11 that day. I play the lottery every now and then and always throw in the number 11, but so far..I have come up short.
The number 11 has since played a way in my life. When I was young, my grandmother owned a camp on a waterfall previously owned by an electric company. The building was number 11…so we always called her camp, “Number 11”.
For some reason when I check the time on a digital clock….it will have the number 11 in it… 3:11, 8:11…or even 11:11 (which is the mother load of 11s). I frequently randomly wake up at night and will see some early hour plus 11…freaky fact. And this is interesting (to me)…this blog posting is number 111…eerie. So by my calculations, the next big day for me should be 1/11/11. Maybe that will be the day I win the lottery.
Hey, now that you know my favorite number…my favorite color is green. You know…like cold hard cash.
But you have one. Mine is 11. Once when I was in the 6th grade, I was in a Halloween costume contest. (Okay, this is lame.) We were given numbers and had to walk across a stage…and then were picked for best costume. The number on my penny was 11 and I won (the very last thing I won)...so I adopted the number 11 that day. I play the lottery every now and then and always throw in the number 11, but so far..I have come up short.
The number 11 has since played a way in my life. When I was young, my grandmother owned a camp on a waterfall previously owned by an electric company. The building was number 11…so we always called her camp, “Number 11”.
For some reason when I check the time on a digital clock….it will have the number 11 in it… 3:11, 8:11…or even 11:11 (which is the mother load of 11s). I frequently randomly wake up at night and will see some early hour plus 11…freaky fact. And this is interesting (to me)…this blog posting is number 111…eerie. So by my calculations, the next big day for me should be 1/11/11. Maybe that will be the day I win the lottery.
Hey, now that you know my favorite number…my favorite color is green. You know…like cold hard cash.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Call Me Martha
Are you or your kids a finicky or picky eater? Chels can be fussy when it comes to food. Colin is like his Dad…eats absolutely everything and Bri is somewhere in the normal to fussy range. One thing all 3 kids agree on: they don’t like cake. So the birthday cake is out of the question…. I make ice cream pies for their birthdays. I am now disclosing my ancient TOP SECRET recipe passed down from Nana. This recipe is very tricky…so good luck.
Make Rice Krispie treats according to the directions on the box. Put the Krispie mixture into a 9 inch pie plate to form a crust. Spoon in a half gallon of softened ice cream and put in freezer. Whala!!!
Martha Stewart can eat my cake tins.
I grew up with a dad who was finicky…which worked in the kid’s favor. My mom would look so proud bringing out her new casserole and my Dad would look at it suspiciously …taste it and say, “Alice…this is good.” For the next 30 minutes he would push it around his plate. It didn’t take her long to figure out that he was playing “hide the casserole.” We were saved...thanks Dad. She was too busy being mad at Dad to notice 4 kids with lumps of casserole staring back at them.
PaulA is a different story. No matter, what food I put in front of him…he’ll eat. So sorry kids, you can’t hide behind your father and his plate….his is totally clean and I see my tuna surprise wiggling over there.
Make Rice Krispie treats according to the directions on the box. Put the Krispie mixture into a 9 inch pie plate to form a crust. Spoon in a half gallon of softened ice cream and put in freezer. Whala!!!
Martha Stewart can eat my cake tins.
I grew up with a dad who was finicky…which worked in the kid’s favor. My mom would look so proud bringing out her new casserole and my Dad would look at it suspiciously …taste it and say, “Alice…this is good.” For the next 30 minutes he would push it around his plate. It didn’t take her long to figure out that he was playing “hide the casserole.” We were saved...thanks Dad. She was too busy being mad at Dad to notice 4 kids with lumps of casserole staring back at them.
PaulA is a different story. No matter, what food I put in front of him…he’ll eat. So sorry kids, you can’t hide behind your father and his plate….his is totally clean and I see my tuna surprise wiggling over there.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Where's The Cloned Beef?
Would you eat meat from a cloned animal? Would you want to know it was cloned meat? The idea is not particularly appealing to me. I am trying to figure out why. Let’s see. If the cloned cow has the exact same DNA as the original…then it is the same animal. Why would it make a difference? I guess it doesn’t, but it just doesn’t sound very appetizing…sounds like I would be swallowing a science experiment. I don’t know…a sort of DNA “mixture.” (Rosie, I know you love that word.) I picture some scientist sitting in a lab, mixing DNA, and placing “the mixture” in petri dishes. Whala…Cloned Beef…special of the day.
Sometimes….it is just better not to know where the food you eat comes from. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. In college we had a friend Henry who was a very interesting guy from a farm in northern Vermont. Anyway PaulA and I had visited him on his farm, met his family and met his farm animals. One weekend we had a cook-out on Lake Champlain and Henry brought the burger meat. Which was all good…until he told us that it was actually Bessie his adorable cow…the one with the big eyes. All of a sudden it didn’t taste so good. The next cook-out…we had Henry bring the chips.
I just hope cloned meat is safe and that years down the road consumers of cloned meat don’t start making mooing sounds…or developing hoofs.
“Hey Moooooo-om….What’s for dinner?”
Sometimes….it is just better not to know where the food you eat comes from. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. In college we had a friend Henry who was a very interesting guy from a farm in northern Vermont. Anyway PaulA and I had visited him on his farm, met his family and met his farm animals. One weekend we had a cook-out on Lake Champlain and Henry brought the burger meat. Which was all good…until he told us that it was actually Bessie his adorable cow…the one with the big eyes. All of a sudden it didn’t taste so good. The next cook-out…we had Henry bring the chips.
I just hope cloned meat is safe and that years down the road consumers of cloned meat don’t start making mooing sounds…or developing hoofs.
“Hey Moooooo-om….What’s for dinner?”
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Happy 100 To Me!
The other day I reached the number 100! (That’s funny Kat…you don’t look a day over 96.) Okay, not in age…I’m not that ancient. I have actually written over 100 blog entries…and that’s a lot of blogna. (Wow…I must have a big mouth.) My 100th entry was about Tiger Woods and his PGA tournament winning streak. Unfortunately, I jinxed him. (In case you read my blog… “Sorry Tiger.”)
So like other people who have hit milestones…I thought I should at least mention my 100th landmark number. You know, like when Ellen hit her 100th show. I think they rolled out a giant cake. And when Jerry Springer hit his 100th show …I think a giant guy rolled out his ex-wife’s cousin’s illegitimate daughter’s half-brother who had been sleeping with his girlfriend. (Not that I ever watch his show.)
100 is a big number…a milestone. 100 bottles of beer on the wall, is a lot of beer on the wall. (Unfortunately if you took one down…you would only have 99 bottles of beer on the wall.) If I shot a 100 for 18 holes of golf (speaking of Tiger) that would be a milestone for me…I would do a jig. (I think Tiger would club himself over the head with his driver at least 100 times if he did that.) And if I ate a 100 hot dogs in a hot dog eating contest….that would be my personal best.
Thanks for putting up with me for 100 blogs.
Dell desktop computer…................ 600 dollars
AOL internet service…....................25 dollars/mo.
Time wasted writing 100 blogs….....priceless
So like other people who have hit milestones…I thought I should at least mention my 100th landmark number. You know, like when Ellen hit her 100th show. I think they rolled out a giant cake. And when Jerry Springer hit his 100th show …I think a giant guy rolled out his ex-wife’s cousin’s illegitimate daughter’s half-brother who had been sleeping with his girlfriend. (Not that I ever watch his show.)
100 is a big number…a milestone. 100 bottles of beer on the wall, is a lot of beer on the wall. (Unfortunately if you took one down…you would only have 99 bottles of beer on the wall.) If I shot a 100 for 18 holes of golf (speaking of Tiger) that would be a milestone for me…I would do a jig. (I think Tiger would club himself over the head with his driver at least 100 times if he did that.) And if I ate a 100 hot dogs in a hot dog eating contest….that would be my personal best.
Thanks for putting up with me for 100 blogs.
Dell desktop computer…................ 600 dollars
AOL internet service…....................25 dollars/mo.
Time wasted writing 100 blogs….....priceless
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
No Foolin'
Did you hear that Hillary Clinton is throwing in the towel… after getting overwhelming pressure from the Democratic Party for her to end her campaign? April Fool’s! Okay, not a good one. Did you hear that Hillary has burned her bright yellow jacket…the one that makes her look like a giant bee? (I wish that were true.)
Watch out for pranks and shams today…you never know where they will come from. About 10 years ago…Burger King announced on April 1st they had a new burger…the left-handed Whopper. Same ingredients, but that the condiments were rotated 180 degrees for left-handed customers. I only heard about it afterward, but I am sure I would have swallowed that one whole…I am a very gulp-able.
I loved April Fool’s Day when the kids were little…they would come home from school…and totally trick me. Colin would come limping in the door: “Mom, I broke my leg! April Fool’s!”...and then take off in a full sprint across the room. Chels: “Mom, I flunked my spelling test! April Fool’s!” Bri: “Mom, there’s a spider behind you! April Fool’s!” Those pranksters were so clever…got me every time.
Did you hear that Hillary Clinton had to duck for cover from sniper fire when she visited Bosnia…risking life and limb? (Too bad Hillary didn’t make that misstatement on April Fool’s Day!)
Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit to all you Fools out there :)
Watch out for pranks and shams today…you never know where they will come from. About 10 years ago…Burger King announced on April 1st they had a new burger…the left-handed Whopper. Same ingredients, but that the condiments were rotated 180 degrees for left-handed customers. I only heard about it afterward, but I am sure I would have swallowed that one whole…I am a very gulp-able.
I loved April Fool’s Day when the kids were little…they would come home from school…and totally trick me. Colin would come limping in the door: “Mom, I broke my leg! April Fool’s!”...and then take off in a full sprint across the room. Chels: “Mom, I flunked my spelling test! April Fool’s!” Bri: “Mom, there’s a spider behind you! April Fool’s!” Those pranksters were so clever…got me every time.
Did you hear that Hillary Clinton had to duck for cover from sniper fire when she visited Bosnia…risking life and limb? (Too bad Hillary didn’t make that misstatement on April Fool’s Day!)
Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit to all you Fools out there :)
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