Someone bought the ring! A very nice someone in Brisbane, Australia - so off to the post office I go. The money ($500.00) made its way seamlessly on Saturday to the New Orleans Habitat for Humanity (they accept PayPal, in case anyone is feeling generous today). What a great feeling that was. I had a bad day Friday (BAD. DAY.) and donating that money felt cathartic.
Random question of the day: If you were to suddenly go on a worldwide comedy tour as a one woman (or man, I know there is a little bit of testosterone that makes it over to this blog) show, what would your tour be named?
I love Cathy Griffin and she had a show called Cathy Griffin: Strong Black Woman. In case you don't know, she's Irish with really red hair and pale skin.
I would name mine: Jen M...: The Big Vagina Tour. Just in case you were wondering. Four kids with Charlie Brown heads? Yeah.
Monday, September 10, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
We Look Alike Except for You Can Tell I Have a Soul and She Has Just a Dark Spot
Sunshine over at ...And the Pursuit of Happiness is having a celebrity look-alike contest. I am thrilled to be in it, and embarrassed to say that the only celebrity I come close to looking like happens to be a soulless right-winger. You know, that obnoxious pundit who's name should rhyme with "Beezlebub" or "Idiotic Incendiary Mean Person." That's right: Ann Coulter.
It's a cute contest, with a few of my favorite bloggers also playing...so go on over and vote!
It's a cute contest, with a few of my favorite bloggers also playing...so go on over and vote!
Friday, September 07, 2007
We Have a Winner and PBN Blog Blast
The young ladies in my house have picked number thirteen, which corresponds to A Blonde Blogger! Thanks for playing and doing something great (she's walking for charity and soliciting donations...you can read her comment). Shoot me an e-mail and I'll get your Amazon g.c. to you.
Speaking of free things, participate in the Parent Bloggers Network blogblast any time today before midnight and you could win a $250 Coach gift certificate. I know as soon as I get home, my post for today will be the blog blast! Here are the rules:
We're sure that all moms have at least one item in their closets that really should have been donated (or trashed) years ago. Tell us how your style has deteriorated over the years and provide some photographic evidence - a picture of the most hideous item that's still darkening your closet - and 'fess up to why it's still in there!
Why should you embarrass yourself in this manner? Because you could win a $250 Coach gift certificate! Face it, a great bag can make any schlumpy mom outfit look better.
How to participate?
1) On Friday, September 7, before midnight PST, write a post about your style - or lack thereof - and include a picture of the item(s) in your closet that most desperately need to be donated. Title it creatively and descriptively.
2) In the text of your post, link to PBN (http://blog.parentbloggers.com/) and Harper Collins ( http://www.harpercollins.com/books/9780061234903/The_Little_Black_Book_of_Style/index.aspx)
3) Send us the link to your post (email to parentbloggers@gmail.com).
We'll round up all the posts on PBN and draw one winner at random (really, at random - http://www.random.org/) who'll get a $250 Coach gift certificate. Do you have a Coach bag? I don't! And even if you do, can you really have too many Coach bags? I doubt it!
Speaking of free things, participate in the Parent Bloggers Network blogblast any time today before midnight and you could win a $250 Coach gift certificate. I know as soon as I get home, my post for today will be the blog blast! Here are the rules:
We're sure that all moms have at least one item in their closets that really should have been donated (or trashed) years ago. Tell us how your style has deteriorated over the years and provide some photographic evidence - a picture of the most hideous item that's still darkening your closet - and 'fess up to why it's still in there!
Why should you embarrass yourself in this manner? Because you could win a $250 Coach gift certificate! Face it, a great bag can make any schlumpy mom outfit look better.
How to participate?
1) On Friday, September 7, before midnight PST, write a post about your style - or lack thereof - and include a picture of the item(s) in your closet that most desperately need to be donated. Title it creatively and descriptively.
2) In the text of your post, link to PBN (http://blog.parentbloggers.com/) and Harper Collins ( http://www.harpercollins.com/books/9780061234903/The_Little_Black_Book_of_Style/index.aspx)
3) Send us the link to your post (email to parentbloggers@gmail.com).
We'll round up all the posts on PBN and draw one winner at random (really, at random - http://www.random.org/) who'll get a $250 Coach gift certificate. Do you have a Coach bag? I don't! And even if you do, can you really have too many Coach bags? I doubt it!
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Philanthropy Thursday, Gift Card Give Away and Annoying Whispery Voices
I think I do like the idea of taking every Thursday (as opposed to once a month) and doing something good. The problem is, with only one cup of coffee in me and four kids plus a tagalong waiting for me to load them in the car, well, my brain hasn't woken up yet.
Yesterday we did book Chloe's appointment for Locks of Love, but that is eight days away, and I wanted PT to also be about doing small things to make the world a better place. It doesn't always have to be donating jewelry or ten+ inches of your hair. So...something small for Thursday. I just popped into the kitchen and Maddie gave me my task for today. While at the grocery store today, I am to pick up an extra bag of dog food and drop it by our local no-kill shelter. She's volunteered there before, and she just informed me that they are always needing dog food. Okay! Done! What are you going to do today? AND, just to make it interesting, I haven't had a give away in a looong time. So, out of the commenters who mention they're doing something small today, I have a $10 Amazon gift card to give away. I'll have the girls pick a number and we'll give it away tomorrow morning. Hey, who couldn't use $10??
********
On another note. My best friend just informed me that she spent an excruciating two hours last weekend at a work-related barbecue hosted by her husband's co-worker and his wife. His wife was one of those women who relates best to men, sexualizes everything, and has perfected the whispery helpless voice when talking to men. You know the type? The type who doesn't have much to say to you, but you have to practically peel her off your husband's leg? Yeah. I've always known women like this, and one time, when I was forced to live across the street from a soft whispery type, my girlfriends and I decided to try an experiment.
Question: Do all men secretly like it when we talk like helpless, brain-cell damaged bimbos (think Marilyn singing Happy Birthday to JFK)?
Experiment: Talk in lilting, breathless, whispery bimbo voice to husband and gauge his response. Do this over phone so he cannot see convulsive laughter from other end.
Results: I called my husband at work, and in a barely discernible Marilyn Monroe-esque voice I asked, "Bobby? Sweetie? Can I ask you a favor?" I thought I would choke on my tongue, I sounded so ridiculous, I was certain he'd ask me if I were drunk. But. BUT. His voice deepened, he sounded concerned and willing to jump in front of a train as he answered, "Yes! Of course, baby. What do you need?" I could almost hear his shoulders pull back, his chest puffing out. Sickening. My husband, by the way, was raised by a feminist, and also calls himself one. I did this later that day, at home, and it was the same response.
If you don't believe me, TRY THIS AT HOME. You will be dumbfounded at the results. Do not harm your husband (or male co-worker or whomever) after attempting this, as it is not his fault that the Neanderthal wiring is still alive and well in his brain. He cannot help himself.
Go, be breathless and airy and see for yourself how effective this is. It is disturbing. And also? Go pay it forward today.
Yesterday we did book Chloe's appointment for Locks of Love, but that is eight days away, and I wanted PT to also be about doing small things to make the world a better place. It doesn't always have to be donating jewelry or ten+ inches of your hair. So...something small for Thursday. I just popped into the kitchen and Maddie gave me my task for today. While at the grocery store today, I am to pick up an extra bag of dog food and drop it by our local no-kill shelter. She's volunteered there before, and she just informed me that they are always needing dog food. Okay! Done! What are you going to do today? AND, just to make it interesting, I haven't had a give away in a looong time. So, out of the commenters who mention they're doing something small today, I have a $10 Amazon gift card to give away. I'll have the girls pick a number and we'll give it away tomorrow morning. Hey, who couldn't use $10??
********
On another note. My best friend just informed me that she spent an excruciating two hours last weekend at a work-related barbecue hosted by her husband's co-worker and his wife. His wife was one of those women who relates best to men, sexualizes everything, and has perfected the whispery helpless voice when talking to men. You know the type? The type who doesn't have much to say to you, but you have to practically peel her off your husband's leg? Yeah. I've always known women like this, and one time, when I was forced to live across the street from a soft whispery type, my girlfriends and I decided to try an experiment.
Question: Do all men secretly like it when we talk like helpless, brain-cell damaged bimbos (think Marilyn singing Happy Birthday to JFK)?
Experiment: Talk in lilting, breathless, whispery bimbo voice to husband and gauge his response. Do this over phone so he cannot see convulsive laughter from other end.
Results: I called my husband at work, and in a barely discernible Marilyn Monroe-esque voice I asked, "Bobby? Sweetie? Can I ask you a favor?" I thought I would choke on my tongue, I sounded so ridiculous, I was certain he'd ask me if I were drunk. But. BUT. His voice deepened, he sounded concerned and willing to jump in front of a train as he answered, "Yes! Of course, baby. What do you need?" I could almost hear his shoulders pull back, his chest puffing out. Sickening. My husband, by the way, was raised by a feminist, and also calls himself one. I did this later that day, at home, and it was the same response.
If you don't believe me, TRY THIS AT HOME. You will be dumbfounded at the results. Do not harm your husband (or male co-worker or whomever) after attempting this, as it is not his fault that the Neanderthal wiring is still alive and well in his brain. He cannot help himself.
Go, be breathless and airy and see for yourself how effective this is. It is disturbing. And also? Go pay it forward today.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Not Quite Wordless Wednesday
I just packed the lunches for the kids, and we're getting ready to head out the door. Chloe walked by her lunch and sighed. "Thank you, mom. I love Cool Ranch Doritos. They're my favorite. Do you want to know my favorite chips, in order?"
"Hmmm hmmmm."
"Number one: anything in the itos family. Doritos, Cheetos, Fritos. Number two, anything that says sour cream and onion."
Meanwhile, Jacob was pulling on my shirt. "Mom! How can my underwear breathe?"
I thought this was interesting, since it was, actually a valid question. I started in on an answer about the breathability of cotton and he interrupted with, "My boxer breathes can breathe. Okay." We just bought him boxer briefs, like daddy.
And it's not even 8:00 yet! What do your kids say in the morning that cracks you up?
"Hmmm hmmmm."
"Number one: anything in the itos family. Doritos, Cheetos, Fritos. Number two, anything that says sour cream and onion."
Meanwhile, Jacob was pulling on my shirt. "Mom! How can my underwear breathe?"
I thought this was interesting, since it was, actually a valid question. I started in on an answer about the breathability of cotton and he interrupted with, "My boxer breathes can breathe. Okay." We just bought him boxer briefs, like daddy.
And it's not even 8:00 yet! What do your kids say in the morning that cracks you up?
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Starfish
I love my kids' school. It's the kind of place that reminds me of everything good about elementary school and it makes me want to stay. I spent last night cutting out pieces of paper with an inspirational saying and attaching starfish pins that I had hot glued earlier that day with the girls. My job is to get more parents to volunteer at the school, and I think it's an easy one.
As I attached the hundredth starfish, I thought about their old school. It had an entirely different philosophy, and assumed the worst about people. If you didn't log in the minimum amount of hours of volunteer time, your family was fined hundreds of dollars at the end of the year (this was a tuition-based school). Our children, and eventually us, had to hand in singed slips of paper from the priest attesting to the fact that we had, indeed, attended church. The consequences were a little more ambiguous with that. Hell, maybe? Anyway, it pissed us off to the point that even when we did go to the school-connected church, we never turned in the signed slips. What were we? Children? Is this how you motivate people?
Happily, we're at a different church and school, and the funny thing is, we're motivated to give even more of our time, even more of ourselves.
People don't like to be forced to do things, do they?
Strolling along the edge of the sea, a man catches sight of a young girl who appears to be engaged in some kind of an artistic dance. She stoops down, then slowly straightens to her full height, and casts her arm outward in a graceful arc.
Drawing closer, however, he sees that the beach around her is littered with little starfish and that she is throwing them gently one by one back into the sea.
He laughs light-heartedly: “There are starfish stranded on the sands as far as the eye can see, for miles up the beach. What difference does it make to save just a few?”
Smiling, she bends down and tosses another starfish out over the water saying serenely,
“It makes a difference to that one.”
As I attached the hundredth starfish, I thought about their old school. It had an entirely different philosophy, and assumed the worst about people. If you didn't log in the minimum amount of hours of volunteer time, your family was fined hundreds of dollars at the end of the year (this was a tuition-based school). Our children, and eventually us, had to hand in singed slips of paper from the priest attesting to the fact that we had, indeed, attended church. The consequences were a little more ambiguous with that. Hell, maybe? Anyway, it pissed us off to the point that even when we did go to the school-connected church, we never turned in the signed slips. What were we? Children? Is this how you motivate people?
Happily, we're at a different church and school, and the funny thing is, we're motivated to give even more of our time, even more of ourselves.
People don't like to be forced to do things, do they?
Strolling along the edge of the sea, a man catches sight of a young girl who appears to be engaged in some kind of an artistic dance. She stoops down, then slowly straightens to her full height, and casts her arm outward in a graceful arc.
Drawing closer, however, he sees that the beach around her is littered with little starfish and that she is throwing them gently one by one back into the sea.
He laughs light-heartedly: “There are starfish stranded on the sands as far as the eye can see, for miles up the beach. What difference does it make to save just a few?”
Smiling, she bends down and tosses another starfish out over the water saying serenely,
“It makes a difference to that one.”
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