Queen Elizabeth Budget Cuts One

Cutting back is so very hard to do....especially if you’ve lived a lifetime of luxury...or even a laptime of luxury.

With the economy and such, the Queen of England has also had to cut back. The royal buck isn’t stretching as far as it used to.

So what does the phrase “tightening your belt” mean for the Queen? Will Queen E have to fire the Palace Chef and hire Chef Boyardee? Turn in her Bentley for a Beetle? Drink Ginger Ale instead of Gin?

Even though the Queen is cutting back...by cutting corners...she’s not exactly cutting coupons. She still has servants. But a few less. The plan is to cut back her staff of 1400 royal servants.

So that means saying goodbye to the royal piper who plays every morning under her window to gently wake her. Now she’ll have to kill her annoying alarm clock with a baseball bat like the rest of us. And the man with the job of “Official Swan Counter”...is now toast...or English crumpets. And instead of replacing her leaky roof...she’ll have to patch it. This might not sound like much. But for a Queen...these are royally mounting sacrifices.

Queen E might want to think about getting her Heinyness over to Target for some plastic buckets. I know it might seem to her like a pain in the royal ascot...but it rains a lot in England...and I think her roof is going on 3 centuries old.

Anywhoooooooooo.................................

The budget cuts do have an upside: when Queen E is entertaining and cuts the cheese...it will be less pungent. Her new cut will probably be more of a mild American processed cheese...not as aromatic.

Team Dunkin Donuts vs Team Starbucks

Pick a side…Team Dunkin Donuts or Team Starbucks.

Most people are coffee brand loyal…so they see a clear line in the coffee grinds. I am a member of Team Dunkin Donuts. My membership card is a DD card that automatically recharges. But one day, I set foot in a Starbucks…and this is my testimonial.

“Earlier today I was in another town and needed a place to rest my sorry butt while I killed some time. There wasn’t a Dunkin Donuts in the vicinity…so I settled on the Starbucks on the corner.

I figured why not park it in a trendy coffee shop and read my book while I waited? Only problem was, I could hear the alarms going off the minute I stepped inside the door. I’m a Dunkin Donuts regular and I just crossed over to the other side.

I was unfamiliar with the different Starbucks coffee sizes, so I motioned with my fingers to indicate a SMALL coffee. The Barista handed me a “TALL.” Other than rhyming with small I didn’t see the similarities.

So I took my small/tall coffee and looked around for a seat. Hmm...nice couches and chairs by the fireplace. The only problem was everything was taken…except one table in the corner with a chair that faced the wall. Yep…that would be for me. After all, I am from the other team.

I sat down and cranked my neck around. Who’s here? Let’s see…a few cappuccino moms with hot chocolate kids in tow. An espresso woman in for a quick jolt. A yuppie caramel frappuccino couple with a mocha syrup baby in a carrier… a skinny latte teenager and a Chi tea chick.

Anywhoooooooo……..

I’m not sure what Starbucks does to make me feel awkward………

…Maybe it's because their coffee pourers are called “Baristas.” And their coffee orders are complicated. The woman in front of me ordered a coffee that had 8 adjectives. Then the Barista made a coffee that sounded like a 747 landing…and no one ducked for cover…except me.


…Maybe because Starbucks plays its own coffee house music and I feel like I should be wearing a beret.

…Maybe because a coffee can cost…4 to 5 bucks.

I admit that I felt like an alien dropped onto Planet DarkRoast. I think they could tell that I am not one of them.

I’m not thinking of crossing over again too soon. And I would never switch sides. I guess I’m just your average Joe who likes her cup of Joe without all the fuss.


The line is drawn…I’m sticking with Team Dunkin Donuts.”

Betty White Bandwagon

All aboard. The Betty White Bandwagon is leaving...and I’m guessing you probably want to jump on. Why not? Everyone else has.

Hey, don’t cha think Betty White is pinching herself these days? She has to have realized she has stepped in it...big time. And I’m not talking the messy step into doggie caca. I’m talking the saweet step into lucky dog. That’s when everything is coming up roses....and you realize you didn't even planted any.

It seems like everywhere you turn...you will find Betty White. Betty has made a resurgence into the limelight. She’s moved from the back burner to the front burner...and she's on fire.

Granted, Betty has had a great career for many years before now. I remember seeing her on the Mary Tyler Show and The Golden Girls...and she was around before that in the television game show Password. Shhh....the PASSWORD is: Bandwagon.

But since her infamous Snickers commercial that aired during the Super Bowl, Betty has been catapulted into cult status. I guess there is something fun about seeing a woman in her 80’s get tackled and having the shit knocked out of her. She took a hit for her career.

Since January, she’s been everywhere...commercials, Jay Leno, Letterman, numerous talk shows. Thanks to a grassroots Facebook campaign she even hosted Saturday Night Live. And she has landed a TV sit-com “Hot in Cleveland” and is currently in a new movie.

Anywhooo.........

I wonder if Betty or her publicist have any worries about “Betty White Overload.” Worried that oversaturation might be too satiating... and that it could bring the Betty Bandwagon to a screeching halt. But then they probably laugh and High Five each other. Hello...she’s pushing 90 years old.

I recently saw a promo ad for Betty White’s new movie with Kristen Bell, Sigourney Weaver, and Jamie Lee Curtis. I thought the movie title couldn’t have been more perfect. The title happened to be EXACTLY what I said to myself when I saw that Betty White was starring in it... “You Again.”

I guess I just jumped on the Betty White Bandwagon by blogging about her. All Aboard.

Not to be Undertaken

Call me a grouchy Kat, but I hate getting unsolicited mail from credit card companies, mortgage companies, phone companies, and double-speak politicians. But what really plagues me is mail from a funeral home.

A letter showed up yesterday with a return address from our local undertaker…and I just left it on the counter. My first inclination was to throw it in the trash and bury it six feet under…under a headstone of banana peels. But I let it sit for a while.

Hmmm…why would I be getting mail from the sad guys in black suits? Have I reached “the ripe old age” already? I must be looking like death warmed over…with one foot in the grave. I was undertaken by the graveness of the situation.

I tried to guess what was in the letter………….

Maybe with the economy and such…the funeral home needs more business because people aren’t dying to get in there anymore. They are too freakin’ broke to die. Or maybe they are offering a coupon … "Bury one stiff and get the other stiff for free.” They might even be offering a group discount... “With 8 or more stiffs you get egg roll.”

I was sure they had a nice attractive offer…only problem is…having to redeem the offer is not so nice or attractive.

Anywhooooo………….

The letter kept haunting me…so I opened it.

Lo and behold it was a lovely invitation to a free seminar. And they “hoped I could attend.” They tried enticing me with: “You will be able to gather with your neighbors, enjoy a cup of coffee, and learn about the benefits of making funeral plans in advance.”

Don’t they know that when I gather with my neighbors…I prefer to enjoy a keg of beer…and talk about the other neighbors who could make it. IDK...maybe they had some enlightening information at the seminar, but I’d just be worried they were sizing me up for their newest container system.

If the funeral home was smarter…they could have gotten me over there lickety-split…by offering a makeover. I hear they can do wonders with make-up. They made Mrs. Finkell look like a million bucks...and she was pushing 98.

Ratdog

Large rat…or small dog? You be the judge.

I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that Duncandog is rather pissed at me for his latest hairstyle…skinned ratdog. I tried to tell him that it was all the fashion rage on the dog runways in Canine, France…and that his new style shows off his legs...but he wasn’t buying it.

Duncandog hadn’t been to the groomer in a dog’s age, so I instructed Terri the-commando-groomer…to take it all off. Not Terri…I don’t need to see her sans clothing. I’m talking Duncandog….sans hair.

I tried to explain to Dunks…that it was what he needed at this time, and that he would look great…in about 3 weeks. But he kept turning his back on me. Apparently he would rather sit in the room and face the wall than face the Kat. The other day he protested with three loud barks while facing the south wall. I know what he was saying to me, “Screw Off, Kat.”

It’s my own fault that I’m in big do-do with Duncandog. I should never have let him watch The View last week. But I gave in, because he was begging so hard to watch Barbara Walters.

Posh Spice…aka Victoria Married-to-Hunky-Six-Pack-Soccer-Star Beckham...happened to be the guest that day on The View. And don’t ya know…she showed a picture of her Bulldog, Coco. The audience went crazy over Coco…because bulldogs are UGLY adorable…PLUS she had Coco’s toe nails painted hot pink. I’m guessing Coco has all the Labs and Rottweilers this side of Fifth Ave, chasing after her.

Anywhoooooooooo……

After Duncandog saw Coco’s flashy toe nails…and how Posh gives Coco the royal treatment…he was furious with me for turning him into such a bow-wow.

I guess I owe Dundcandog an apology, “Rorry, RuncanRog.

Rease, Rorrive, Re.”

Bedbugs Bite

“Sleep tight ...don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Nothing like sending little ones off to Slumberland with visions of bugs gnawing on their skin.

I never used to give the little buggers a second thought. I thought the phrase was a harmless old saying from the Colonial Period. But it seems, bedbugs are tired of sleeping around. They want to take a more prominent place in the world.

Bedbugs have found their way to hotels, movie theatres, and retail stores. It seems even Victoria Secret has been bitten by the bug. After all these years...now we learn her little secret...Victoria has bugs.

Anywhooooooooooooo..............

Here are a couple of bedbug precautions to take with you while you’re traveling.

Get a good look at what is in your hotel bed by turning on the lights and pulling back all the bedding. Make sure you’re not sleeping with the enemy.

Bedbugs are not microscopic, so if they are present...you’ll see them. They are easily spotted with the naked eye. Just make sure to keep your naked body out of the sheets before checking.

Another tip....put your suitcase on the luggage rack instead of the bed. You don’t want to bring bugs home with you in your luggage. It will give new meaning to “Hey kids, look what I brought home for you.”

Being the informative Kat that I am, I did a little research for you...which has left me with a creepy crawly feeling.

Bedbugs are hardy little devils that can survive a wide range of temperatures. Below 61°F they enter semi-hibernation and can survive for at least five days at 14 °F. Their thermal death point is 113 °F. Bedbugs apparently cannot survive high concentrations of carbon dioxide for very long. Natural enemies of the bedbug include cockroaches, ants, spiders and centipedes.

So a remedy appears easy: Set your thermastat at temperatures below 14 F or above 113 F, release carbon dioxide into your ventilating system, or invite colonies of ants, spiders, and cockroaches into your home. Those bedbugs are as good as dead, should you still be around to notice.

So the next time you venture out...be VERY careful you don't pick up bedbugs that are hitching a ride. No matter how much they offer to give you for gas.

Different Strokes for Different Folks

It seems that if you are a celeb or someone with political clout…the rules that apply to us common folk…don’t apply to the rich and famous. To borrow a line from Arnold, I call it “Different strokes for different folks.” What’cha talking about Willis?

Well, Willis…I’m talking about people like Lindsay Lippy Lawbreaker Lohan and Paris Pouty Pampered Hilton. “The girls” get in and out of trouble faster than my car can get an in and out of a Jiffy Lube.

The latest celeb to find trouble is Justin Beiber. (Oh, Baby…say it isn’t so.) Justin threw a water balloon at a state trooper before his show at the Maryland State Fair. Maybe Justin couldn’t help himself from horsing around at the State Fair…because there was so many equine around. And maybe it was all just a prank...but WHO gets away with throwing ANYTHING at a state trooper?

Actually...The Beib threw 2 water balloons at 2 different cops. One balloon broke on a trooper’s gun belt making a splash…and the other one bounced off a trooper’s belly. I guess that trooper has all those jelly donuts to thank for sparing him a wet front.

Anywhoooooooooooo……….

The Beib appears to get special dispensation for his actions because of his haircut...you know, that Nike Just-do-it swoosh haircut he sports. But Willis, it just doesn’t seem fair to the rest of us that there are different strokes...for different haircuts.

I think Justin Beiber should have to face some form of punishment for pummeling a state trooper with a water weapon. I’ve got an idea. At Justin’s next concert…people should be allowed to throw tomatoes at him…just for fun.


Or maybe just give him a haircut.


Baby, baby, baby, ooo...Baby, baby, baby, oooo

Losing Face2Face Time

With all the advances in technology over the years, we have lost...face2face time. There are fewer and fewer reasons for us to look each other in the eye. A person could easily become a hermit and never step foot from their house.

Anywhooooo……......

I hear you challening me about the notion of never having to leave the house, so you ask…”What about.........?”

Work? With a computer and cell phone, you could work from home in your bathrobe ...just keep it closed, por favor.

Food? Grocery stores deliver…just order online and the truck dumps it at your front door. No one will know how big your sweet tooth has grown.

Entertainment? Watch concerts and movies on television. Order DVDs through Netflix. Besides...video stores are becoming obsolete...which brings the upside: You won’t have to worry about running into irritating Ina.

Banking? Automatically deposit your check and do your banking online. Never run the risk of meeting a bank robber face2scary mask.

Post Office? Get your stamps and shipping boxes online. No worries about someone going postal on you.

Pictures? Print your pics at home and digitally enhance your appearance.

Shopping? Buy anything you want online….gizmos, Elmos, or ammo...they got it all.

Music? Download digital music...especially the band, Dear Havanah on iTunes or at DearHavanah.com. Record stores are old school and closing all around us.

Books? Order a Kindle and download books and magazines...keep it clean.

Friendships? Stay in touch with old friends online, the cell phone, or texting. Make new friends online through social networking sites. Stay away from Craigslist...you could meet the Grim Reaper.

Education? Take classes online…and get an online degree. You won’t have to sit through a 4 hour graduation ceremony.

Exercise? Move your butt to exercise routines on TV, DVD, or Wii games. Nothing like a little Wii golf to throw your back out.

So there you have it...no reason for face time.

Wait…just thought of one. If you throw your back out...you’ll need to see a doctor. Darn docs don’t make house calls anymore.

Wat up wit dat, Doc?

Season Four

Anywhooooo..................

It’s the middle of September which brings a new season of television. Must See-TV. Oooo yea. The pilot season promises a new line-up of shows...cop shows, sit-coms, contrived reality shows, dramas...and a new CSI city...CSI Simsbury, CT.

But lucky for YOU…September also brings a new season of Kat’s Blog...Season Four. Yahoo...Mountain Dew. And like the TV shows that ended last spring with cliffhangers...and intriguing storylines designed to keep you coming back for more...my blog will be no exception.

I have a great line up of blogs planned for you this year. It will be a blog year full of surprises and give-aways. Think Oprah giving away those all-expense paid 8-day trips to Australia. Then think....No Way. Never Happen.

Okay, I don’t exactly have the bucks of a Ms. Winfrey. Wait, just realized why Oprah is the “Queen of Give-Aways.” It’s her last name....Win Free. It’s only natural that people on her show win free stuff. Plus...she’s loaded...in a monetary way.

Well, I’m loaded too. And it’s only 9 am. I’m loaded with ideas for blogs that will entertain slash irritate you. And most importantly, I’ll answer the provocative and burning questions from where I left off. The cliffhangers to entice you to tune in............

Did Duncandog pack his rubber toys and leave home, because of consistently constant undogable living conditions?
Did PaulA get a hole-in-one, or was it ONLY in his dreams?
Did Wishy, Colinboy, and Big C miss Kat so much they moved back home, or was it ONLY in her dreams?

This will be a season of Must-Read Blog Entry. Trust Me...you won’t want to miss a minute of it.

Happy Blog Anniversary To Me

Today marks the THIRD anniversary of when I first started writing this blog. 3 Years, folks! That’s a long time in dog years...let alone Kat years. So today I am reprinting the VERY FIRST blog that I wrote on September 13, 2007.

Anywhoooooooooo..........it went like this:

What to do…….Well, let’s see….My “To-Do” list has lots on it...Stop and Shop, clean bathrooms, (why did I want more than one?), laundry...but I don’t want to tackle my list. I find all those chores irritating, I guess that’s why they call them chores, eh? So here I sit thinking, “Hmmm, maybe I’ll start a blog and avoid doing chores for a little while. Then maybe later I’ll feel inspired and get busy. There’s always hope!”

For some reason, I like writing online. I have three children...and the two that are away at college have said that I am much more fun to talk to when I’m online. We’ll see if anyone out there agrees…..............

One thing I do when I write online is use dot, dot, dot, like this………… It’s a good segway …..so that I can change subjects…..and think while I write. It’s almost like a written “ummmmm”….. and it gives people a chance to take a breath when they are reading. (You breathe when you read, don’t you?)

To introduce myself....My name is Kathy-Anne or like my husband and friends call me, Kat. Before I was married my initials were K.A.T.…so Kat makes a fitting nickname. I am still not sure why my parents gave me a double first name. We were not from the south, unless you consider that the state of Vermont is south of Canada. Then there is the enigma of a missing middle name...which gets confusing on applications and registrations. Sometimes I throw them a bone and give them “Anne” if they must insist.

I like the name, Kat although I do not have a cat. I don’t dislike cats, but I just don’t have one….I own a dog. Oh, and his name is Duncan. He’s a Portuguese Water Dog. I don’t know how fitting the name Duncan is for a Portuguese Water Dog, but he’s stuck with it. My sister-in-law's family got a dog like ours and named him Magellan. A Portuguese explorer is a very fitting name for a Portuguese Water Dog. Why weren’t we that clever?

So it’s September and the kids are back at school. And I’m at home...on the brink of an empty nest. I‘m so thankful that I have 3 kids that are spaced out over 5 and a half years... (Wait, they are not spaced out kids)...this way my nest doesn’t get dumped all at once. I honestly do not know how moms of twins or triplets do it.

My oldest child, Chelsea, is a senior in college and not excited about graduating in May and joining the Real World….unless it’s the reality TV show. She likes to think of herself as the boss of the kids…and the other two let her think she is. She has earned the name “Big C” given to her by her brother and his friends. She has also commented on how she’s been the guinea pig kid child. She may have a point. We are hoping to have it right the third time around.

Colin is a sophomore in college. I call him Colinboy and not really sure why, but it’s just one of those family things that happens and you forget why. He’s been referred to as “Six Degrees of Colin"...like Kevin Bacon. He just seems to know many different people from many different circles, and if you don’t know him, he knows you….does that make any sense???

Okay, quickie Colinboy story to give you an example. We were at a Red Sox game and I saw a man eating an enormous piece of meat, that looked like turkey or chicken. I’m talking the whole animal and it was very gross. There was food falling from his mouth and grease dripping from his face, that he didn’t even bother to wipe off. So being the immature mom that I can be…I said to Colin, “Hey, check out that man eating animal to your left!” He looks over and says, “Oh, I know that man!” I said, “Come on Colin, how is that possible?” Colinboy watched the game for a few minutes and then said to me, “I remember now, I’ve seen him at the Y….he goes to the same YMCA I do.” There you have it, enough said about Colinboy.

Then last, but not least is Brianna. First of all, she does not like it when I either say or write “Chelsea, Colin and Brianna”…she insists I take the “and” out. I guess it makes her feel like an afterthought, but I explain to her that it really distinguishes her and gives her the spotlight that she so deserves! Our nickname for Brianna, other than Bri…..is Wish, Wishy, Sweet Wish, Wish Queen, or Wish Queen of America! Okay, it’s a little corny, but when she was really little, I would sing the Disney song “A dream is a wish your heart makes,” along with the musical score from Les Miserables (jk)…and then whisper good night “Sweet Wish”. Awwwww. Anyway, Wishy is a junior in High School and I am desperately holding onto her before she also leaves for college...and leaves me to me!!

So that’s the rundown on my 3 kids and 1 dog...nicknames and all. I do have 1 hunky husband named Paul. I don’t have any cutesy nicknames for him like love bug, babe, or honeybunch. I call him Pauly or PaulA. It totally cracks me up that his credit card and airline tickets print his middle initial “A” right next to Paul so it looks like PaulA. Even flight attendants like to tease him that he doesn’t look like a Paula. There are other times when he’s traveling for business, I like to call him “Willy”……you know, Willy Loman from Death of a Salesman. PaulA’s a great guy who works hard for the family. After all, he’s got 3 kids and a wife who hates to do chores, to feed!

I should end now. I plan on sharing stories...some personal...some public, but all with a Kat’s brown eye view of life. No major life issues will be solved here.

So I’m warning you...I’ll be back………katOUT

The Mourning of September 11th

I remember the morning of September 11th nine years ago…stepping outside and looking up at the sky and thinking it was going to be a Top 10 Day. Summer was turning into Fall. The sky was the bluest of blue…no rain clouds in sight. The air was cool and crisp…the sun's rays were warm. At 8:45 am… Tranquility turned to Devastation. It was a day of contrasts.

Today marks the ninth anniversary of the September 11th attacks and we remember all who lost their lives that day. We remember the 2,974 innocent men, women, and children who were going about their daily lives that beautiful September morning…to have it all suddenly taken away.

We remember the heroes that sacrificed their lives to save others. We honor the firefighters, the police, and emergency workers who worked to save lives. We extend our thoughts and prayers to the families and friends of those who were lost that day.

However you decide to commemorate September 11th is your choice. Whether it's through a special ceremony, moment of silence, prayer, or flag flown…it’s your choice. We are fortunate to live in this great country where we have the freedom of personal choice. We honor those men and women in the Armed Forces who work to defend and protect our freedoms.

September 11th…Just remember….Never forget.

DEAR HAVANAH, New Music

Are you looking for new music, a new sound? I’ve got a suggestion. Listen to Dear Havanah. (Two H’s…one N)

“Every so often, a band comes along that blurs the lines of musical genres. With hints of pop, soul, and rock 'n' roll, Dear Havanah is that band. The Boston-based group is celebrating the release of its second album, The Whole Way Home, produced by Alan Evans of Soulive.” With a “strong, soulful vocalist and a pocket heavy rhythm section garnished with screaming electric guitars, a whirling B3, and thick, funky horns”…Dear Havanah will knock your socks off.

An open letter to the band:

Dear Havanah,
I love your new CD “The Whole Way Home.” I downloaded it the first day it was released on iTunes. On a scale of 1 - 98…You were crushing it at “Ninety Eight.” I’ve been knocked out and “Reeling” from your fresh new sound.

I take your music everywhere I go…even in “The Rain”… “Ohio Sun”…and my last white-water trip down the “Big River.” And “when there is no more work to be done”….I like to “Burn like the sun”……….oooo yea…

I enjoy your music LIVE, but “I could waste all day” listening to you on my “A.M. Radio.”

“So Maybe I should try again” and say:
Good Luck to you Dear Havanah… “it’s all about you now.”


You can find Dear Havanah on iTunes or DearHavanah.com

Dog-gone Distractions

Go ahead and add Fido, Spot, and Rover to the list of distractions while driving.

A recent survey from AAA determined that 80% of dog owners bring their dogs with them on a variety of trips. 31% of them admitted being distracted by their dog while they are driving…which isn’t a surprise. Dogs move around the car, add to your blind spots, bark in your ear, and lay in your lap.

I hear there are even some dogs who have tried to commandeer the steering wheel. After driving behind some folks, I would say there a few dogs that would be an improvement behind the wheel. Take the Border Collie, for example…that dog has amazing dexterity. It’s not easy to catch a Frisbee in your mouth…it requires true skill. The steering wheel is just a bigger disc.

There are many dog owners who love their dogs more than their relatives. I can’t see them leaving their pooches behind or jailing them in the back seat. Take Oprah Dog Lover Winfrey, for example.

Oprah began a campaign against distractions while driving and asks her guests to join her cause by signing her petition. But the question is: Would Oprah add her doggie to her list of distractions…even when dogs are said to be as distracting as cell phones and texting? I think Oprah would prefer to let sleeping dogs lie, when it came to bringing up the issue.

Anywhooooooooo………..

I don’t bring Duncandog with me in the car…unless I absolutely have to. (I hear you can’t leave a dog in the house with food and water for extended perioods of time.)

And I never bring Duncandog in the car while I’m doing errands around town. It’s not because he’s a distraction while I’m driving…it’s because he’s a distraction while I’m trying to exit. When the car comes to a stop…he positions himself to bolt for the door because he doesn’t want to be left behind. He will break his limbs and mine to get out the door first. The Kat usually beats the dog to the punch. (Wait, you know what I mean. I would never Michael Vick my dog.)

I do make one exception when I’m willing to risk Duncandog’s antics. I bring DD with me when it gets bitter cold. He keeps my seat warm in the winter when I’m running in and out of different stores doing errands. Thanks DD.

But neither Rover nor Duncandog is more of a distraction than a woman shaving her legs while driving on her way to work. Or the kid in the backseat, kicking the driver’s seat and throwing his toys and bottle at the back of your head.

I think a new distraction survey needs to be done to include kids and ladies with hairy legs. I’m giving AAA a call in the morning.

Kat's Weigh to Weight-loss

Many of us (at some point) have tried a fad diet to lose weight...The South Beach Diet, Grapefruit Diet, Cabbage Soup Diet, Mediterranean Diet. Fad diets go in and out like our waistlines.

But in the end...we all really know that the real way to lose weight is simple. It has a lot to do with NOT eating the triple decker bacon cheeseburger with fries and gravy...and substituting it with 3 stalks of celery and two of carrots. Not a fair trade.

Excuse this little digestion.....I mean, digression...but I remember in college when I decided to go on the ultimate fad diet...an ice cream diet. My roommate told me about it...and I remember thinking I was gonna be living Heaven on Earth. I couldn’t have been happier. I was gonna lick myself to a skinny body. But after having ice cream for each meal for two days…I would have given anything to sink my teeth into something crunchy…a celery stalk, bone marrow....anything.

Anywhoooo..........

It seems everyone has some weight-loss diet out there. So I’ve decided to join in and write my own weight-loss book. It will be a diet plan with a totally revolutionary idea. I’ve decided to call the book: “Kat’s Weigh to Weight-loss.” And it will employ my scientific ELEM method…Eat Less and Exercise More.

Step One: Weigh yourself. “No way...“Yes, weigh.” But forget weighing your food...and never bring food scales to restaurants. I have found that it is hard to weigh the Never Ending Pasta Bowl of Pasta Carbonara at Olive Garden...too slippery for the scales.

Step Two: Two step. (No, that isn’t a typo.) Dance the two step or salsa (if you prefer Mexican over country-western.) When the buns move...the jelly does too. And my favorite is Smucker’s Strawberry Jelly on some piping hot cross buns. Oooyea.

Step Three: Replace every third glass of wine with red colored water. After a few...you don’t really notice.

Step Four: Replace every third burrito with ...beans only. Beans...the musical fruit not only provides interesting sounds...but is also good for you.

Step Five: Repeat Steps 1-4...as necessary.

Feel free to comment and weigh in on my new revolutionary weight-loss plan...on a scale from 1 to 10...or join me in a sticky bun.

Pig-Out this Labor Day

It’s Labor Day. Time for a last blast of summer.

What is Labor Day without a cook-out of burgers and dogs... the all-American meal for an all-American holiday? Actually, I remember a particular Labor Day with a certain pig. I’m not talking about anyone in particular… I am talking about a big ass pig with pig ears, pig’s feet and a squiggly tail...the Real McPorky.

Once Upon a Time...we lived in a neighborhood that got together every Labor Day, One year we decided to forgo the burgs and dogs...and roast a pig. Believe me, it wasn’t my idea. I wasn’t particularly excited about seeing a whole pig choking on an apple, rotating and roasting over an open fire pit for 12 hours. I’m pretty sure a few neighborhood kids needed psychological counseling after that day.

Anywhoooooooo....

Our buddy, Lou, volunteered for pig duty for the Labor Day party. He picked up the pig the night before (not in a bar, smart ass) and needed a place to store it...so he put it in his bath tub. Might sound crazy/cozy, but it wasn’t like he was taking a bath with it. Although Louie confessed to washing the pig’s back.

Lou unwillingly became close and personal with his piggly wiggly friend when he slipped...trying to lift the pig out of the tub. Lou landed right on top of him in an open Bacon sandwich. Yet, a few more kids needed counseling, after seeing Lou press the ham.

Have a great Labor Day. Go hog wild, burger happy, or hot diggity dog crazy..and enjoy the last blast of summer!

Stay Away Earl

Hey Earl...I hear you are planning on visiting us sometime tonight. You haven’t visited since 1991, so you probably think we have missed you...but you would be wrong. Stay Away Earl.

I don’t think it’s really about you wanting to have a nice calm visit with us. I think it’s all about you needing a final place to land and carry-on before you fizzle out. One last blast.

I hear you’ve been hanging out in the tropics for the past few weeks, sucking up all that “tropical water” with all your other buddies down there...and now you’re looking to bring your wild ways...our way.

Apparently you like making a big entrance, and having people throw your name around before you actually arrive. You seem to enjoy putting on a big show.

Anywhooo...........

We have a close eye on you and know you are making your way up the East Coast....probably thinking about a stop in Wrightsville Beach and wreaking havoc with our friends in the Carolinas.

Earl, you will find that we are not excited to see the likes of your kind. We don't appreciate the force, devasatation, and chaos you bring with you...the way you break and destroy things in your path.

If you could only learn to change your ways....maybe settle down a bit and not let yourself get out of control.

If you happen to show up at our house you will find the windows covered...and the doors secured. Things will be tied down and put away. We just can’t trust the likes of you.

You might want to keep moving...maybe go cruising out to sea.

And just don’t get any ideas of sending any of your friends our way. We’ve heard Gaston is just as troublesome.

New Face of Facebook

Usually new words and expressions start with the younger generation, then over time they make their way upstream...like salmon (which I should add....is especially tasty grilled with barbecue sauce.) Eventually they hit the mainstream population of the mommas, the papas, and the bubbas.

Back in the 60’s and 70’s...the hip generation was wearing bell bottoms, tie-dye, and platform shoes and saying things like “cool”, “groovy” “dig it” and “far-out.” They were also leery of old folks. Their motto was: “Don’t trust anyone over 30.” Thirty-somethings might just say trite comments like “Get a job.” (Wait...that eerily sounds like 2010.)

But as time went on...hip words made their way from the lips of beatniks to the lips of all micks, and worked their way into everyday conversations.

Before you knew it, your mom was standing in the kitchen saying: “I was having such a groovy day...and it was ruined when I burned the casserole I was planning for dinner. I was watching a far-out episode of the Monkees and lost track of time.” (Think Carol Brady catastrophe.)

But fast forward to 2010....and now we have new words...new technology...and a new world. A 2010 Carol Brady could be pictured as saying: “I was having an epic day, but it was freakin’ shit-canned when I burned the crap out of the casserole I was planning for dinner. I was watching an awesome episode of The Family Guy” that I downloaded off of iTunes onto my iPad and forgot what planet I lived on.”

So I got to thinking... Do once parents start using the same words...or join in on the fad...is it game over...time for the younger generation to move on?

Anywho..................

I’m actually surprised that Facebook isn’t considered passé with kids…now that parents have Facebook pages. Does it make it uncool to have parents friending them? It’s one thing to associate with parents as parents...but now friends??

I live and breathe my computer…but I can’t bring myself to go on Facebook. The face part of Facebook doesn’t phase me...no problem...I can upload a picture of any great face. But I’m afraid I might ruin their cool scene.

Besides....who could be cooler than Carol Brady? Especially with that hairstyle.

Multiply Your Luck

Can you believe it’s September 1st?? I remember when the summer season was first getting started and now it’s on its way out. Hare today...gone tomorrow.

Speaking of rabbits, I hope you said "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" this morning. If you didn't...I feel very sorry for you. You’re doomed for the rest of September...or you’re S.O.L.

“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” is said on the first day of the month for good luck the rest of the month. And our fam never forgets. We know better than to test the rabbit. Never DARE a HARE.

To be the recipient of the kind of luck where you say, “life is so easy, it's like shooting rabbits in a barrel”...you must say “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” when you FIRST wake up...and BEFORE you say anything else. You can’t even yell, “Sorry Duncandog, for stepping on your head...because you are always underfoot...and I didn’t see you...because I didn’t have my contacts in yet.”

This morning, my eyes popped open at 3:11 a.m. and I said, “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit”...OUTLOUD. Does that make me a weirdo, or the next LOTTO winner?

I’ve googled “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” to find out where this superstition might have come from. And “Presto” – a winner. I pulled a rabbit out of my hat when a whole Google page appeared regarding the superstition. Apparently I am quasimoto-normal.

Google says the saying has been around since 1800 and is a common British superstition. There is something about the rabbit being lucky and having lucky feet. (I wonder which foot is considered the luckiest.)

On a lop-eared note: I find it very interesting SLASH ironic that rabbits are commonly eaten in England. I guess the Brits like to multiply their chances and eat their luck...for good measure.

So to make sure the five of us are covered in the luck department, we send out “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” text messages..as a little hare reminder...because we care.

If you didn’t get the “rabbit, rabbit, rabbit” memo for good luck...I would suggest eating a rabbit tonight for dinner....hare and all.