I WANT TO LIVE IN A MOVIE

So I’m beginning to think that not everyone watches movies over and over again until they can recite complete dialogue like my family does. There are times when we have complete conversations that consist only of quotes from various movies, mixing and matching as we see fit.

Beloved favorites that are repeated often include:

“Kevin’s not here. Kevin’s not here. Kevin’s not here.” (It helps that we have a Kevin in our inner circle.)

“5:45! Five forty-five doesn’t do me any good. Network news is in make-up at 5:45.”

“You don’t want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie.”

“You’ve got a baby! ….in a bar!”

“So I can kiss you any time I want.”

“You can’t ride two horses with one ass, Sugarbean.”

“I never fully understood that expression but no, I’m not shitting you.”

“Look what you’ve done, you little jerk!”

“Sydney, this is just a dinner. We’re not going to be doing espionage or anything.”

As you can see, we have a plethora of verbal gems from which to choose. So many lines,….so little time.

So now that I’ve digressed almost to the point of where the heck was I………..

Yesterday I posted seven interesting facts that weren’t really about me but instead characters in some of my favorite films. I challenged you to identify yourselves as my soul-mate and name the characters and/or movies.

I’m happy to announce that my new found soul-mate is ……..Otin, the Wizard, himself. One of these days, Otin and I are going to sit ourselves down with some sweet-tea vodka and watch my our favorite flicks together. Right, Otin? I’m sure that Otin is dancing the fiesta dance right this very minute in celebration of my promised undying affection for him. Isn’t that right, Otin?

Otin came through with the answers to:

1. Sleepless in Seattle. (By the way, I really can peel an apple in one long, curly strip too.)

2. Twister.

5. An American President

6. Serendipity

Janie also knew Twister but if she hadn’t Oklahoma would have disowned her as their part-time spokeswoman.

Eileen at Hit40 knew that #3 was Sweet Home Alabama. And poor Dana is worried that maybe I really did blow up a bank…..with a cat. I’m just not sure if she’s worried more about me…the cat….or the bank?

No one knew my all-time favorite #4 was The Family Man.

MrsK didn’t get got #7 by proclaiming that it couldn’t be is You’ve Got Mail. Kimberly also said You’ve Got Mail but I’m not sure if she was only talking about #7.

And dear, sweet Auntie thought that I really did all those things.

Mona, love, you know you can be secure in my adoration of you.

Movie and Pseudo, Don’t make me come up/over there and do an intervention! You ladies need to pour yourself a glass of vino and pop in that video. Just do it!

I had so much fun reading your comments that I thought we’d play again today. Can you name the movies that I’ve quoted above? Can ya? Huh?

Game on!

Creative? Me?

I’m blushing. Mrs. K has gone and awarded me the Kreativ Blogger award. I feel quite honored and feel more grateful than I can say to receive this award. However, it comes at a very awkward time for me. You see, I’m not feeling very creative lately and am finding it hard to come up with much of anything to say here. Writer’s block, I guess you could say. Nevertheless, the award was given and while MrsK may be rethinking her decision at this point I’m keeping it deserved or not.

I’ve been sitting on this award for a few days because with it comes a task that I found a wee bit daunting. I am to list seven interesting facts about myself. At this point in my blogging career, with 250 (this one) posts in a little over a year, I’ve already spouted on and on about all the interesting facts about moi. I finally managed to come up with a few more facts that I haven’t mentioned before.

1. I can peel an apple in one long curly strip.

2. I once saw a cow flying through the air.

3. I blew up the bank…….with a cat.

4. I once wore a sweater that said, “Non profit layers do it for free.”

5. I hung up on the President of the United States.

6. I picked up my friend’s horrible Prada knock-off wallet by mistake. This turned out to be the key to finding my one true love. Well, that and leaving my jacket on a park bench.

7. Confession: I have read Pride and Prejudice about 200 times. I get lost in the language; words like thither... mischance... I'm always in agony over whether Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are really going to get together. Read it, I know you'll love it!

What? That wasn’t me? I guess my dvd player has been in overdrive lately and I’m confusing my own dull, boring life with the characters in some of my favorite films. If you can name the characters and movies in the above “7 interesting facts about me”, you will win a prize. Not a gift card, or a valuable item of interest but instead my undying friendship as surely we must be soul-mates.

What? That is SO a prize, dammit!

This award like all awards comes with rules and they are as follows:

1. Thank the person who gave you this award-Thanks, Mrs K. You are too sweet to me.
2. Copy logo and place it on your blog- DONE!
3. Link the person who nominated you- DONE
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting- OOPS!
5. Nominate 7 Creative Bloggers- I’m tagging YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU, YOU & YOU!
6. Post with links- Oh dear, I’m way to writer’s blockized lazy for that.
7. Let them know they got the prize-Consider this ME letting YOU know I’ve tagged YOU for this award!

Cheating? Me? Hey, I never claimed to play by the rules.

THE BIG MOVE – Minus the Drama this Year

Daughter #2 is all moved into her new apartment, pledged to a sorority, her classes and work have both begun. She is a very busy girl. I’m happy to report there was no drama during the move. The apartment is nice and most of the time, she was busy with rushing for sorority, so we didn’t get to see her much. Daughter #1, MHS and I did our best to set her up. We left her with a few more things to organize and a few more pictures to hang but other than that, she is good to go. We ended the move with ice cream from that same shop that calmed our nerves and soothed our souls last year. Is there anything better than ice cream?

I did learn a few things during our moving adventure.

• Never order a margarita in a college town. It comes in a glass as big as your head (for $7) and if you finish it, you may or may not be able to walk to your car without assistance. Just sayin’.
• There is nothing dirtier than a college kid’s kitchen. (Due to the fact that one of D2’s room-mates lived in the apartment last year, the common areas were not cleaned by the apartment complex and were instead supposed to be cleaned by the roomie. That didn’t happen.) I think something exploded several years ago with every cabinet and drawer open. ACK!
• Not all girls love pink. (Pink is very big with my girls no matter how old they get.) D2’s roomies were kidding her about her love for all things pink. (I think she did a great job of using the color with sophistication, instead of bubblegum style.)
• If you do order the margarita, stay away from the hotels with striped carpet. I’m getting a headache just thinking about it.
• Even though kids need the same items every year at the beginning of school, stores will still run out of important items like shower curtain hooks, ethernet cables and mattress pads.
• It’s best to pre-medicate your husband before said shopping adventure begins if he lacks the patience of a saint like MHS. (MHS hurt his back during the move. I was armed with muscle relaxers and he was a kinder, gentler MHS all day long.)

So once again, my baby is off to college. Learning, growing, becoming the woman she is meant to be. *sigh*

Some Mamma Mia lyrics might be in order:

Each time I think Im close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

HERE WE GO AGAIN

I can’t believe it was a year ago when we set off on the adventure that was taking Daughter #2 to college. Twelve months later and it’s time to go for round 2. She will be living in an apartment this year instead of a dorm so with any luck we won’t have the drama of last year’s trip. Wouldn’t you know there’s another storm out there brewing but it looks like we won’t get it this time. Let’s hope so, anyway.

Read my rerun below if you’re interested in hearing about last year’s drama and with any luck, I won’t have any drama to tell about when I get back. *fingers and toes crossed*

This was last year's summer dorm. (not the dorm from the story below)

OFF TO COLLEGE (original post 8/22/08)

We got a late start. My husband,( who today I will refer to lovingly as My Harley Stud but in the future may be better known as JackAss depending upon my mood - or should I say his) works from home and was slammed with things to do before we could leave. The stressometer was creeping ever so slowly up the chart with each passing minute that went by that didn’t see us in the car and on our way. D2 had agreed to take her friend, Band Boy, along with us as he was not taking his car to college. Each time Band Boy would call to check on our status, the stress would mount. We had hoped to leave the house at about 8pm but didn’t actually get on the road until after 10pm. There was some discussion that maybe we should wait until morning and leave very early but that was quickly shot down due to Tropical Storm Fay. As fate would have it, TS Fay strategically wound her path in such a way that each Florida University would be affected as thousands of students would travel to their schools to start fall session. The outer bands of TS Fay arrived at our home on Tuesday providing me with a much-needed day off from work and the added benefit of now referring to my home as “waterfront property”.

I should mention here that D2 and Band Boy both went to summer session and drove home together with all their STUFF in just her car. D2 added a 3 drawer storage bin to her STUFF but since she was driving her car and My Harley Stud and I were driving my car, it stood to reason that we should have plenty of room. I should also mention that My Harley Stud is kind of a control freak when it comes to things like packing cars, mowing the yard and all things that include tools or paint brushes. This is fine with me. I don’t like to do any of those things. However, MHS, as I mentioned was very busy prior to leaving so the job of packing the cars was left to me. I really tried to leave room for Band Boy’s STUFF but it’s hard to pack when you don’t know how much cargo you will be transporting.

We arrive at the pre-arranged spot to meet with Band Boy and his dad. They open the back of their SUV and we quickly realize that there is a problem. This is when My Harley Stud turns into the JackAss. Not to make excuses but he has had little sleep, we are about to embark on a 4 hour trip after 10pm and he now has to repack both cars in order for all of D2 and Band Boy’s STUFF to fit. I have to say I saw this coming and offered to make the trip alone. He was completely stressed out from work overload and he would have taken me up on the offer had it not been for TS Fay. He didn’t like the idea of us travelling through the storm by ourselves. He’s very macho like that. So anyway, I let him rant for a few minutes to get it off his chest and then showing an appropriate amount of refinement informed him that he was being a JackAss. He simmered for a few more minutes but eventually was able to at least smile at me when I would mouth JackAss to him.

Quick Note: My brother in law, Brain Buckets, taught me that the beauty of calling someone a JackAss is that even if they have to read your lips, the message is always clear. Not many words sound or look like JackAss.

Once on the road, we quickly catch up to TS Fay who is one slow moving witch. It’s raining, we are tired but we outrun Fay and make it to my Dad’s house at 2:40am. We set our alarms for 6:30am and crash. We’re off again at around 7:30am and TSF is just catching up to us. We have the breakfast of champions: My Harley Stud and I have McDonald’s (and the South Beach Diet dies another death) and D2 and Band Boy have those awful orange colored crackers with peanut butter in them. Finally, we arrive at the university at around 11am.

I don’t know if it’s like this everywhere but moving into a dorm (oh excuse me, they prefer to be known as residence halls) at D2’s university (D1’s alma mater) is a nightmare at best. After being instructed on the move-in process by the very helpful campus policeman, we decided to split up the get things going. We hauled all of Band Boy’s STUFF to the sidewalk in front of his dorm,(oops, I did it again) Band Boy went to check in, I waited on the sidewalk guarding his STUFF and MHS took D2 to her dorm (I’m such a rebel) to get her started.

Mistake #1: I left my cell phone in the car.
Mistake #2: I should have gone with D2.

Checking Band Boy into his room took longer than expected. As I stood on the sidewalk guarding his STUFF, I could see the clouds from the outer bands of my old friend, Tropical Storm Fay, starting to gather. This was when I realized I didn’t have a phone. I quickly took inventory of his STUFF to determine which items I would try to save from the rain if Fay decided to let loose. His guitar and sound system seemed the obvious choice and as I was trying to figure out how I would manage both those pieces, he came out with his key. As Fay started to just sprinkle, we made it into the building. Once his STUFF was stored in his room, I used his phone to call MHS to get directions. It wasn’t a far walk but was TS Fay was still spitting at us. I found MHS standing on the sidewalk with most of D2’s STUFF and he informed me that she took the first load to her room and he hadn’t heard from her since. I grabbed as much STUFF as I could manage and started the trip to her 7th floor dorm room. The door was locked when I got there. I could hear her muffled voice inside. I knocked and waited. No answer, just the muffled voice. I knocked again. She opened the door, cell phone in hand, big tears in her eyes and threw herself into my arms crying. This was BAD!

It’s probably a good time to mention that D2 attended summer session to get her feet wet when the university wasn’t packed with kids. During summer, she stayed in a newly renovated dorm, a suite style, which means she shared a room with another girl and a bathroom with the room next door. Her assigned housing for fall/spring is a community style dorm. This means she shares a room with another girl and a bathroom with everyone on the hall. (About 35 girls)
The new dorm is in an old building. There is a window air conditioning unit. The walls are concrete, the floor is old linoleum and the beds are built in without the adjustable options she had in her summer room. Her roommate had already moved in and the side she had chosen was decorated with all her pictures, knick knacks and pretty bedding. This made D2’s side look even more drab. At home, she has her own room and because her sister has been away at school for the last 4 years, she has had her own bathroom for that whole time. This was a very rude awakening for her. She was absolutely and completely devastated. I could hear the soothing words of her best friend on the other end of the phone. She gave her decorating suggestions and assured her that it wouldn’t be that bad. She promised to help decorate when she came to visit. (BF will be attending a school 2 hours away and they have big plans to visit back and forth.) All the while, she is collapsed in a heap in my arms. I tell her it’s not that bad, it’s going to be great when she gets all her STUFF unpacked and arranged. I remind her she is only here for a year (an eternity in her mind). I do my best to comfort her. Bless her heart, she was just so disappointed. She knew about the community bathroom but had not toured the building; she was so excited to get started on her college life and then was slapped in the face with this “disgusting hole in the wall”. She was not to be consoled.

As a mother, your heart breaks when your children are hurting. You long to comfort them and make all their troubles go away. But at some point, your comforting becomes enabling. I knew her dad was still waiting on the sidewalk clueless as to the melt-down. Band Boy had been delivering STUFF every few minutes during the whole ordeal. I would quickly usher him out to save them both the awkwardness of the situation. I decided enough was enough. I told her as gently as possible that it was time to put on her big girl panties and suck it up. Make lemonade out of lemons. Put one foot in front of the other and make it happen. My new approach was rewarded with the death stare. Eventually the tears stopped. MHS and Band Boy arrived with the last of her STUFF. BB left to go set up his own STUFF. No tears from him but his room isn’t any better. I guess boys don’t care about these things.

We decided it might be best to walk away for awhile. We took her to lunch. She refused to eat at her favorite place because she “didn’t want to associate this awful day with her favorite eatery”. Yeah, she is a bit of a drama queen but she is my drama queen and I love her to pieces, princess pout and all. So in honor of the occasion, we took her to a Mexican restaurant because she hates Mexican food. She felt this was appropriate. I promptly ordered a margarita and was thrilled to find that they were two for one.

Another quick note: D2 doesn’t usually get this worked up about things like this. She is actually pretty easy going most of the time. She was just SOOOOO excited. And then CRASH!
After lunch, it was off to Target to get some things to spruce up the place. A rug, a curtain for the closet with no door and a bookshelf would make things homier. Back at the dorm, we unpacked, arranged, decorated and settled in. She decided maybe it wasn’t so bad. Her new roomie arrived with her twin sister and another friend and they all hit it off famously. Things were definitely looking up.

We took her for ice cream (another South Beach no-no) before we left. It was really good. One of those homemade mom and pop shops. Yummy. While enjoying our treat, I asked her if her roommate turns out to be as good as she appears on first glance, would she still want to move if another room became available? (She is on a waiting list) She smiled and said, “Give me a week and ask me again.” I think she is going to be just fine.

Wish me luck…….

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO…..”HUH?”

All my life, I’ve lived my days through the lyrics of music. There’s not a crisis, celebration or everyday happening that I can’t find a song to sing to express my feelings. The line that keeps coming to mind these days is: “God is great. Beer is good. People are crazy.

Here are just some of the things I’ve recently heard from crazy people.

• I wish my brother was oddtistic. - out of the mouth of a 10 year old boy in the back seat of my car.
• I’m going to send my dog to boarding school. I sent my kids to boarding schools and look how well they’ve turned out. - from an acquaintance
• I’m sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now. She’s delivering a baby. Can you call back in a couple of hours? - into a cell phone on the elevator
• My t*tties hurt real bad and I think there’s something wrong with them. – a woman making a doctor’s appointment.

When you’re spinning round, things come undone. Welcome to Earth, 3rd rock from the sun.

What crazy things have you heard lately?

YOU DON’T SAY?

I received a prestigious award today but before I get to that allow me to wish one of my bestest bloggy buddies a belated happy birthday.  I don’t know how it happened and I’m hanging my head in shame but I missed Janie at Midlife Slices’ birthday!  Oh.Yes.I.did!  I know!  Awful!  See how I am! 

Happy Birthday, dear friend from your slacker bloggin’ buddy! 

In the same day, I found out that I’m a terrible friend and completely dropped the friendship ball and then I received this lovely award from Jane at Gaston Studio telling me that I’m a good blogging friend or at the very least leave good comments.  Hmmmm?  I think that this means that I’m a good friend with a crappy memory.  Yeah, that’s it, I’m sure.  

The Super Comment Award is given to bloggers who leave comments worth discussing on other blogger’s posts. It may also be because those comments are great in quantity, great in substance, or just great in general.  Leaving comments at Jane’s site is easy because I’m always in awe of the very exciting life she’s led and her tales of adventure leave me begging for more.  I am honored that Jane would think of me to pass along this award.  Thanks, Jane.  I promise to keep commenting if you promise to keep telling me stories.  Deal?

There didn’t appear to be any firm rules attached to this award but passing it on to great bloggers who leave great comments is the general idea.  I hereby award the following bloggers the Super Comment Award:

Only a Movie

Mrs K

Midlife Job Hunter

Linda at Fat Cat Crochet

Midlife Slices

Jason of The Jason Show

City Gal Moves to Oz Land

Congratulations, bloggers!  And thank you so much for your comments.

Thanks again to Jane for bestowing this award upon me.  I will keep it on my mantle in a place of honor. 

And happy belated birthday to my friend, Janie!  MUAH!!!

IT'S MONDAY......ALL DAY

Oh Boy is it ever! I was late to work today. I didn’t oversleep. I just didn’t want to move. I was thinking that today might be a good day to have a nervous breakdown take a mental health day and just lie in bed all day going, “buh, buh, buh, buh” read a good book. I figure I’m due a good mental collapse. When the poop hits the fan in my life, there’s no time to have an emotional breakdown and drop my basket. I’ve got to soldier on through it otherwise all the spinning plates come crashing down. During those difficult times, I always say to myself, “Self, you can melt into a puddle later, there’s always time for that. Right now, you’ve got a mountain to move. Put on your big girl panties, and suck it up, Princess!” Well, today, I thought it might be a good day to cash in that raincheck. No mountains to move…………..right this minute. I could lay my superpowers down for the day and just melt…….for a little while.

And then I smelled the coffee.

God bless that man-O-mine.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

BLUE SKIES FROM THE PALM BEACH POST

I'm not much of a news hound. It's all so depressing and I like all the skies in my world to be blue ALL the time. Nevertheless, I subscribe to the feeds from my local paper. I scan them daily (while wearing rose colored glasses) looking for a little good news. Today I realized I haven't looked at them for awhile and had 380 articles to peruse. With so many, I was bound to find a little good news today. I thought I would share the good news I found.

Home prices are up in Palm Beach County. Foreclosures are down. This is good. Things are looking up.

If you watch college football at all, no doubt you've heard of Tim Tebow. I could be excommunicated from my family for even mentioning this name but I will risk it for the sake of WTH? Realizing that Tim Tebow will not play college ball forever, Coach Urban Meyer said Tuesday that backup quarterback John Brantley, a redshirt sophomore, will receive "meaningful minutes" in games this season. Seriously? "meaningful minutes"? Meaningful minutes in football? What is that? At any rate, without Tim on the field, the announcers may even realize there are other players on the team and more on the opposing side. This is a very good thing. I think Tim Tebow is a great guy and a great player (that's hard to say as a Seminole mom) but he doesn't play the game all by himself. *rant disguised as a good news over*

Call me a sentimental fool but a shiny new penny makes me smile. If you feel the same, you can smile big today as the third of four new pennies celebrating Abraham Lincoln's bicentennial was released today. That's pretty cool. There is a down side to this good news: It costs the US mint 1.04 cents to make a penny these days.

Virgin American Airlines announced plans to begin non-stop flights from Ft. Lauderdale to San Francisco and Los Angeles this fall. The introductory fare-$99! I just love a bargain!

Coach Bobby Bowden is entering his 34th season as Florida State University's football coach. Our beloved Bobby is on a year to year contract. Here's hoping this season will be his best....and ours. :-) Go Seminoles!

Smoky Bear is 65 years old this month. Happy Birthday, Smoky!

That's it. Out of almost 400 articles, this is all the good news I could find. A little good news is better than none, right?


What's your good news today?




Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

THE SECRET TO WEIGHT LOSS

All this time, I've been banging my head against the wall, searching for the motivation, failing and picking myself up to try again. Little did I know that all I had to do to find the sticktoitiveness to succeed at my diet/fitness plan was to go to the doctor. Dr. Black Cloud supplied with me with all the information necessary to conclude that I need to get fit and thin PDQ or I should start shopping for burial plots, I can look forward to an old age filled with disease and medications that will surely bankrupt me. Bottom line: Dr. Black Cloud is scaring me skinny.

Since making the executive decision to switch my family to the South Beach Diet way of eating, I've lost 14 lbs. My Harley Stud has also lost 14 lbs. This really ticks me off I'm so happy for him and God bless his soul, he isn't even trying and is losing the same amount by default. You see, he eats whatever I cook in the evening and eats however he pleases throughout the day. However, I don't buy sugary, high fat treats so he has less to choose from. Still and all, he is matching me pound for pound without any apparent effort and THAT IS SO UNFAIR isn't it wonderful!

I still have a long way to go but I am optimistic that I can still lose another 10 lbs before my class reunion. I still won't be at goal but finally moving in the right direction works just fine for me.

Daughter #1 has made it her personal mission to kill me, drag me all over the county to walk 4 miles a day, oversee my food and beverage consumption like the food nazi that she is (She hates that name) get me in better shape before my reunion.

Oh and by the way, wii wii no longer shouts to the heavens in his way too cheerful fashion that I'm OBESE! I am now just merely OVERWEIGHT. The damn wii wii still makes the announcement with a smile on his face and isn't even aware that he's in danger of having a remote shoved up his arse. Stupid wii wii!

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

SOMETHING ABOUT SMB

I’m back from hiatus and want to thank you all for reading or re-reading my reruns. I was certain back then that the only people to read this blog would be my family and friends who were shamed into it. A year later, I’m by no means in the league of VodkaMom or Braja but am astounded by and grateful for the blogging buds I’ve met here in the interwebs. You guys are the BEST!

I think I may have mentioned after my physical that my physician, Dr. Black Cloud, ordered an ultrasound of my thyroid. What I didn’t mention is that I’m a knot-head. Yes, I have a knot on my head. A perfectly round slight protrusion from my forehead. (Certain family members are saying that my natural horns are beginning to show.) So Dr. BC figured since I was already having the ultrasound of the thyroid, she would just throw in my head as an extra study. Doctor’s appointments were just some of the things on my plate last week while I was on hiatus.

Last monday, I arrived on time wonders never cease for my ultrasound studies. The tech was friendly and since he recognized me as someone in the medical field, he put me at ease by chatting about his experiences in the OR with my employer. The thyroid ultrasound was without event and we moved quickly on to the knot on my head. The location of the knot made it difficult to get a good image and several gadgets were used to try to get a better picture. If you’ve ever had an ultrasound, you know that they use that slimy gel on the probe to facilitate ease of movement. I was very clear that he was not to mess up my hair or makeup. It took him a minute to realize that I was kidding.

Eventually he was satisfied that he had gotten clear images and the study concluded. He gave me a towel to wipe off the gel and led me out the door. There was no mirror in the room. I was sure that my hair was a mess. I did my best to smooth it down as best I could without a mirror. I thought I had done an OK job. I walked to the elevator where I rode with a father and his two young children. I walked thru a crowded lobby and out the door to my car. It was there that I saw my image reflected in my car window.

Remember that movie, “Something About Mary”? Poor Mary mistakes Ben Stiller’s character’s body fluid for hair gel and creates quite the “doo” for their date at the restaurant. Yeah, that was me. *sigh*

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

ONE THING AT A TIME

I don’t know about you but for me, one thing at a time is better.  Today’s world demands more but I think the world was a better place when we took the time to give each task the care and attention required to accomplish it successfully.   I’m tired of keeping all the plates spinning at the same time.  Juggling and struggling…..it’s exhausting.   And speaking of a lack of sleep  energy  zest for life  creativity  blog fodder, I’m on hiatus this week.  (What?  We weren’t speaking of those things?  Hmmm.)  Carry on.

 

MULTI-TASKING (originally posted 8/8/08)

Yesterday it became very clear to me that I am not good at multi-tasking. I really want to be. My life demands it. But I just don’t have the ability to truly concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Does anyone? I see people all the time who seem to be able to tackle several tasks at one time competently. Is it an illusion? Do these people just appear to be extraordinarily efficient at accomplishing multiple jobs at one time or are they failing to perform at their best in all but the one task on which they are truly focused. Or does the entire performance fall short due to the divided attention? These are questions I would like to have answered. So, readers or imaginary readers, as the case may be, please feel free to comment on this post.

While getting gas at the BP near my office yesterday, I was talking to my husband on my cell phone and trying to get the gum off the sole of my favorite sandals. I used my debit card to make the purchase and then (I believe) stuck the debit card into my pocket. About 10 minutes later, driving toward the turnpike on my trek home, I realized that I hadn’t put my card back into my wallet. I reached into my pocket and found nothing. I felt around the seat, still nothing. I quickly pulled over and frantically checked my purse, wallet and the floor. I returned to the BP and checked around the pump with no success. I went inside and asked the clerk behind the counter if anyone had turned in a debit card. He looked at me like I had two heads, smirked and said slowly, “No…….no…….no.” I’m not really sure exactly what that was all about but it ticked me off. I returned to my car, called Bank of America on my cell and went through the steps of cancelling the card. I was shocked to hear that the little snot that stole my card had used it 3 times at a Chinese take-out in the 30 minutes it took for me to realize the card was missing, return to the gas station and report the card.

I’m mad at the kid who saw my misfortune as his fortune. Let me say here that I am assuming it was a kid who took the card because any professional criminal with the semi-good fortune (good fortune would be to find Oprah’s card) to find my debit card would have purchased something more exciting than pork lo mein and an eggroll. Anyway, whatever happened to common decency? Is the golden rule an outdated practice?

And I’m more than a little miffed at the clerk behind the counter at the BP for treating me like a naïve idiot. Far be it for me to expect people to practice good citizenship.

But mostly I am mad at myself. I have to assume the card fell out of my pocket at some point. Had I not been on the phone or if I were better at multi-tasking, I would have noticed when it fell to the ground. Hopefully this is a lesson well-learned.

And to the little jerk who took my card: SHAME ON YOU!

HERE’S YOUR SIGN

Before we get started, I just wanted to let out a big WOOT! for President Clinton who negotiated the pardon and release of Laura Ling and Euna Lee.

I’m lazy out of new material really busy tired on hiatus this week so I’m posting some reruns of the early SMB posts that were never read by anyone but my family. This was one of my favorites. This was my third blog post.

THE SIGNS WERE THERE – I just didn’t read them. (originally posted 8/5/08)

I have friends that freak out over birthdays. Surprisingly many are men. Birthdays have never really bothered me. I’ve always enjoyed them. I’m for anything that includes a party and cake. I guess I have been in denial. This might explain my complete shock at the fact that I am indeed well into middle age. For me, it’s not the birthdays but the little milestones along the way that revealed the years passing by…..daughter #1 and #2's first day of high school, college applications, last proms, high school graduations, leaving for college…….and more everyday.

I remember the first time I felt the clock ticking: Daughter #1 “became a woman” November 11, 1996. You might think it strange that I remember the date. For some reason, my brain remembers insignificant dates, numbers and commercial jingles from the early 70s. I guess that is why I can’t remember the important things that I should remember. My brain is full of things like, “Wrigley spearmint, gum, gum, gum.” Do you remember that one? I remember this particular date because it was 2am on Veteran’s Day when she woke me with the announcement. I was certain I had prepared her for this occasion nevertheless she was quite distraught and convinced the world as she had known it was over. I remember thinking that it was fortunate that it was Veteran’s Day and there would be no school. She would have 24 hours to get used to the idea before she had to go out into the world as a new woman. My next thought was that while it wasn’t likely, it was now biologically possible that I could become a grandmother. OUCH.

Fast forward a few more years: We are sitting at the table eating dinner when I mentioned that I had heard on the radio that Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt were separated. I said that I was disappointed because until that time I thought they would be this generation’s Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Daughter #2 raised her head with a look of complete confusion and said, “The salad dressing guy?”

A few years later: Daughter #2 is studying to take the SAT. The pressure of getting into the college of her choice is getting to her. Her entire future depends on the score she will receive on this test and she is descending into a serious melt-down. When I tried to offer her encouragement, she launched into a tirade about how I had no idea what she was going through; after all I had never had to take the SAT.

I said, “I didn’t?”

I will never forget the look of shock on her face. “YOU took the SAT?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t know it had been around that long.”, she said.

“Well, I did have to dip my quill into the ink to fill in those little boxes.”

“Really?”

UGHHHHH!

So, I guess with daughters like mine, my advancing age should come as no surprise. They have reminded me every step of the way.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

RERUNS

As previously announced, I’m re-posting the Best of SMB this week – aka – the first posts that nobody but my family read.

MINI MID-LIFE CRISIS (First posted 8/2/08)

What was I thinking!

After hearing those dreaded words from my physician the other day informing me of my advancing age, I hauled myself into the gym. As I explained to my doctor, I exercise regularly and have for 2 ½ years. I have to admit that my routine has become a bit stale and I haven’t felt challenged for awhile. Maybe I need to try something new. These were the thoughts that were going through my head as I walked into the gym. I am not someone who truly enjoys the process of working out. The whole “runner’s high” thing – never experienced it. I’ve run 6k and 10k runs before………..nothing. My favorite part is when it’s over. But I realize that working out is a necessary evil in my life and I trudge on. The most enjoyable experience I’ve had while exercising has been taking aerobics classes. I think this is because I enjoy laughing even if it’s at myself. So anyway, I stopped at the desk on my way into the gym and asked if they plan to add any evening classes. I was told they do not. The classes are not well attended and they have to pay the instructors. I wanted to say that maybe the classes might be better attended if they held them when average people weren’t at work. I didn’t say that though. Instead, I continued on to the locker room and started up a conversation on this topic with a complete stranger. My new friend suggested that I try the IRON BODIES class that she was on her way to right that very moment. I made my “I don’t think so face” and told her that I thought I might be better matched with a Soft, Round, Cushy Body class. “Do they have any of those?” She smiled very sweetly and told me that the class is a great all over body work-out, you don’t need to bring anything more than a towel and water and you can go at your own pace. Uh, huh. Right.

For some reason that still is a mystery to me, I followed her into the classroom where IRON BODIES was being held. The instructor, Chris, looked like a nice enough man. He welcomed me as “fresh meat” and smiled as he instructed me to be sure to work at my own pace.

The music began. We used all sorts of toys during the class. There were steps, free weights, body bars, and rubber bands. We ran, forward and backward, we lunged, we lifted and moved to the music in ways this tired body has not moved for awhile. At mid-point in the class, as I was gasping for air and gulping down water, the nice woman from the locker room asked how I was doing. As I wiped the sweat from my brow, I told her that I didn’t think we could be friends. She offered encouragement saying that I was doing great. I was not convinced.

I don’t really consider myself competitive but at some point I completely forgot those words “at your own pace”. I don’t know what happened to me. I was determined to keep up with my classmates that have been taking this class on a regular basis. I’m not saying that I was keeping up with them but I was certainly trying. I didn’t quit. There were times I had to slow down to avoid collapsing in an embarrassing heap on the floor. But eventually we arrived at my favorite part: The end. I walked out of the gym on that day proud of my accomplishment. Thoughts like,” don’t tell me I’m getting older.”, “I’ve still got it.” “I finished, didn’t I? “ all went through my head.

Driving home, it occurred to me that maybe pushing myself to the limit on the very day that my doctor tells me that my blood pressure is high and I could be at risk for stroke might not have been the most intelligent decision I’ve ever made. What was I thinking! I think I could be having my own mini mid-life crisis. My “I’ll show you” attitude would not have played well had I stroked out on the dance floor.

Around 4:30pm the next day, I was reminded of my foolish behavior the day before. I had trouble standing up from my desk. For the next two days, I was stiff and sore beyond belief. Returning to the gym was out of the question as walking was barely possible. Oh yeah, I really showed ‘em.

You know, I really thought I was above all this. I thought getting older wouldn’t bother me. And it didn’t until that day that I woke up and saw bags under my eyes that don’t disappear after I’m completely awake, lines around my mouth and excess me around the middle that doesn’t want to budge no matter how much I diet and exercise. Oh and let us not forget the words of Dr. Good News. So apparently, I’m not above it all. I wonder if there a way to approach 50 years old …………….. (someday) …………..without having at least an occasional melt-down? Is there a way to escape this desperate attempt to hang on to our youth or is it something that we should just embrace and go for it?

Will there be another IRON BODIES class in my future? You bet but this time I will go at my own pace with nothing to prove to anyone but myself. And the next time I see a middle-aged, overweight, balding man in a little red corvette, I will still smile but it will be a knowing smile saying, hey, buddy, I’m right there with you.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

CALL ME DAVID LETTERMAN

After blogging for one whole year, my contract states that I’m entitled to a vacation. But being a responsible blogger, I don’t want to leave you with empty pages here so like my good friend, Dave, I’m happy to present you with the best of SMB – aka – the early posts that no one read. Hey, at least it’s something.

I’ll be busy gettin’ some things done here in SMBland that have gone neglected for the last year. With any luck, I’ll come back to you a wiser, smarter, mouthier but kinder, gentler SMB. Or just the same ole me.

Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I give you: My first post.

I RECEIVED A LOW BLOW TODAY (first posted 7/31/08)

I received a low blow today. While suffering through my annual lower-body inspection, I heard the words, “You’re at that age when…….”. As if the exam itself wasn’t punishment enough, do I really have to be forced to listen to this! She must be mistaken. I never thought it would happen to me. I’m certain my 27^th birthday was just a few short years ago. But then again, I guess there have been signs…………….oldest daughter graduating from college….youngest daughter leaving for college……….28^th wedding anniversary approaching. This phrase was followed with instructions about getting regular blood work to check things like thyroid and cholesterol and informing me that my blood pressure was a little high which may put me at risk for a stroke…. But frankly after hearing those afore mentioned unspeakable words, all I heard was blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Apparently unaware of my glassy stare and semi-comatose reaction to her observations, she went on to gently suggest that I am overweight. Of course this came as no surprise to me. With the exception of a few years when I was a fitness instructor in my twenties, most of my life I have been what my mother referred to as……………..wait for it……………..you’ve heard it before………....ding, ding, ding: and the prize goes to: “pleasantly plump!” I personally prefer the way voluptuous rolls off your tongue. But I digress.

I was then interrogated on the subjects of my diet and exercise routine. I was quick to inform my physician that I work out for at least one hour three to five times a week. And true to form, she said, “It must be your diet, then.” Clearly, there are some areas of my life I should work to improve. But does she have to be so darn blunt about it!

So now , faced with the fact that I am “at that age when………..” What am I supposed to do with this new revelation?

Daughter #1 tells me that I should blog. I’m always saying that I’m going to write a book. She says that instead of not writing the book I am always saying I will write, I should blog. After confessing that I’m not exactly sure what it means to blog, she explains that it would be a great way to exercise my creative process. I’m pretty sure her motive might be to deflect the pearls of wisdom that I cast in her direction.

So, blog, I will. I will embrace the process of aging gracefully, tackle the struggle of creating and maintaining a healthy lifestyle, and make observations about life in general as a woman who is “at that age when….” I will share my thoughts and feelings on these issues with you, who are more likely than not, my imaginary readers.

While I am fairly certain a psychologist might agree that blogging could be therapeutic to my mental well-being, my physician has suggested that I make some other changes in my life. I’m told that if you make yourself accountable, you have a better chance of attaining your goals. So I hereby commit, in writing for all the world to witness, that I will strive to reach my health goals because as I’ve so kindly been told, “I am at that age when…..” My goals are as follows and in no particular order:

• Lose weight or grow taller

• Improve my fitness level

• Lower my blood pressure

• Eat a healthy diet and practice portion control

• Lose weight ( I thought it might help to list this one twice)

• Blog all about it

• Define myself as “at that age when……I am energetic, fit, healthy and lovin’ life!

Lofty goals, you say? Maybe but hey, why not! Go big or go home, right?

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED

I’ve had a hard time sticking to my workout regimen lately. All of a sudden the things that I’ve been neglecting while sitting on my fat arse blogging have piled up to the point that they can no longer be ignored. I’ve spent the last couple weeks trying to play catch up. Friday arrived and I committed myself to getting back on the exercise wagon because as you know my physician has informed me that I have one foot in the grave and it’s critical to improve my health it’s good for me. I made plans with Daugher #1 to go for a long power-walk after dinner.

When I say “power-walk”, I use the term loosely. D1, on the other hand, takes it very seriously. She walks like my mother…………….FAST! I have little stubby legs that have a hard time keeping up with her gait. Sometimes she even runs ahead and then runs back to get me. (Always good for my self-esteem) I’m no stranger to cardiovascular exercise and can usually hold my own with women my own age but this young chickee pisses me off, runs circles around me provides a challenge to which I can aspire.

We walked 4 miles on Friday evening. It was HOT! But it felt good. So good in fact that we made plans to walk at the beach the next morning. We walked for an hour the next morning at the beach. We wanted to power-walk so we didn’t go down to the water but instead chose to remain on the sidewalk where we could walk at a good clip without obstacles to slow us down.

The beach walk pretty much wiped me out. I think I was a little dehydrated and it didn’t help that I mowed the yard when I got home. By evening, I was feeling more than a little stiff and sore. I went to bed early to read and avoid excess movement that resulted in pain.

This morning, I awoke with the worst kink in my neck and my back and legs are so stiff and sore. It always amazes me how walking uses such totally different muscles as any other exercise including running. If you exercise regularly but don’t walk often, I would caution you to take it easy and ease yourself into it or end up like me: Popping muscle relaxers and ibuprofen while whining, moaning, groaning, b*tching, cursing and whining some more on the couch while watching favorite movies, tweeting and blogging.

All that and my crackberry died a slow death by drowning at the hands of a wicked water bottle that erupted all by itself. Contrary to reports by eyewitnesses, I swear it wasn’t my fault! I was merely trying to save the life of a flying library book and happened to have said water bottle in my hand at the time. Library book – 1, crackberry – 0. I think that the Palm Beach County Library system should reimburse me for my expenses to replace the phone and I don’t think it would be excessive to throw in a million or two for pain and suffering. (I’m sure that must be where the kink in my neck came from.) Oh sure…I’ll get a new crackberry but I’m not sure I can ever love another. It will never be the same.

Before I go back into my drug-induced coma, I want to mention that Nanny Goats in Panties is having a giveaway. Rachael Ray 10-pc cookware set! I think they would look very nice in my kitchen. In fact I’m sure of it. I get another entry by mentioning it here. You should go there and try to win them yourself or you could increase my chances to win by completely ignoring this paragraph. It’s up to you.

Hugs,

Smart Mouth Broad