Thursday, July 09, 2009

If you saw this thing you wouldn't be laughing

Last week as the girls and I were getting ready to leave for an errand, I was attacked by a wasp. For those of you who think I'm exaggerating (and I've been known to on occasion) let me just say I'm not embellishing in the least here, this thing was as big as my palm and its head was the size of a marble. I could see its hairy legs kicking around, and I swear as it came at me it hissed, "Get ready to die." I think it may have even been carrying a teeny knapsack filled with tools.

The girls were already in the car and I was locking the front door when the brazen attack on my life occurred. I think I shouted out a few obscenities as the bird-sized creature flew towards me intending to kill me, ran in a serpentine pattern to confuse it and leaped into the van just in the nick of time. It's all a blur, but I think I remember having to pry its claws off my back. The girls were plugged into their iPods and examining their fingernails, but I do remember them glancing up momentarily to show they cared. Actually, I think they may have only looked up because they were hoping I hadn't dropped my purse in the melee, which would mean they wouldn't be able to have their daily tall-mocha-frappuccino.

Even worse, we could see from the car that the wasp was building a mud nest right near our door. It was pretty ominous, and not wanting to put my children's lives in danger, I called Rigel and informed hm that we wouldn't be returning to the house until after he had gotten home from work, sprayed the nest and wrestled the cat-sized wasp to the ground. Sure that might not be until 9pm, but I was willing to wait it out as long as it took for the situation to be made safe. For the children.

And wait we did, for an hour or so at Starbucks. We finally got the 'all clear' call from Rigel signaling that he had used every toxic chemical available to annihilate the beast, and the nest had been demolished using a combination of heavy machinery and an ancient Mayan chant known to dispel evil. You can't be too careful with these things.

During the whole ordeal, Kiyomi kept ribbing me, apparently amused by the fact that I had run from what she called a "teeny tiny thing." (For the record, she was afraid to get out of the car as well. Not that I'm ratting out my kid in order to make myself look less ridiculous or anything.) Then she asked me what I would have done if we had gotten home before Rigel and the wasp had gotten into the house, and without hesitating I said, "I'd call 911." I was joking of course, since everyone knows you don't need an emergency crew to show up to kill a wasp - that's what husbands are for.

Besides, I just found this video, that shows what happens when you make frivolous calls for help. This woman dialed 911 three times because some of her cows had gotten loose. She tells the emergency operator:

Yes, this is a damn emergency. I got seven fucking cows out loose!

The woman was eventually issued a citation for misusing the emergency call system, and rightly so. I mean, it's not like she was being attacked by a wasp or anything.



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Monday, June 29, 2009

Just Say No, No, No: Amy Winehouse's New Line of Greeting Cards and Wrapping Paper

I have a new post up at MamaPop about Amy Winehouse getting her very own line of greeting cards and wrapping paper. For some reason this makes me want to down a bottle of tequila.

So I'm wondering how the product meeting went, the one where they came up with the idea to market a line of Amy Winehouse greeting cards and wrapping paper. I'm thinking someone suggested a line of flasks, or perhaps a perfume that smelled like a combo of cloves and Jack Daniels. Then someone else threw out the idea of a line of hand towels and the room fell silent and the head of the marketing department shook his head and told everyone to go to lunch before he fired their asses.

Then just as everyone was deciding whether to go to Applebee's or HomeTown Buffet one of the new guys, the one who was real quiet during the entire meeting, piped up and said, "Hey, how about a line of Amy Winehouse greeting cards and wrapping paper?" Everyone started clapping and hoisted the guy on their shoulders and now that guy is president of the company.

Okay, that's probably not how it went because that idea is absolutely awful.

Finish reading this fascinating story »

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Thursday, June 25, 2009

Michael Jackson

I heard this on the radio today and almost burst into tears. I grew up listening to Michael Jackson. I don't care what anyone says, the guy was a freakin' genius when it came to songwriting. I'm going to miss him.



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Tuesday, June 23, 2009

I just figured out what to do with the kids this summer

I took Kira and Kiyomi shopping the other day and figured out that in a few years I'll be flat broke and homeless. When someone asks me why I'm living in a tent on Wilshire boulevard and eating cat food with my weathered, blistered fingers, I can tell them how it's all because of a couple of pairs of leggings from American Apparel and that sequined tunic from Hot Topic.

Then I found this story about a girl who made her own prom dress out of coffee filters and my mind started racing. Why, with an entire summer stretching before us and a garage full of paper goods from Costco, I can get the girls to make their own back-to-school wardrobe! I can see it now - a few paper towels and a Swiffer cloth magically transforms into a chic miniskirt, and a box of dryer sheets and a couple of lunch sacks becomes that rad hoodie I refused to pay $58 dollars for. And turn them loose with a stack of foam plates and a pack of picnic napkins and the sky's the limit for the kinds of purses they'll turn out. Sure some people may call it 'cheap' but I call it saving the earth while saving my wallet and cleaning out my garage at the same time.

Wait till you see the plans I have for turning yesterday's yard clippings into tomorrow's dinner casserole.

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Thursday, June 11, 2009

Gordon Ramsay, You've Been Served.

My newest post is up on MamaPop and it's titled, "Turns Out Gordon Ramsay Really IS an Asshole." Well, I guess that kind of explains it all.

Ever since Matlock went off the air I'd been looking for a new TV show to occupy my time. That changed a few years ago when Hell's Kitchen came on the scene and I'd tune in every week to see Gordon Ramsay berate, belittle and bully his lowly contestants until they cried salty tears into their béarnaise sauce and became hallowed-out chicken carcasses of their former selves. It was so fun! And the part at the end where the loser's picture catches on fire? That was awesome and stuff.

But I always thought the whole angriest-man-in-the-world thing was just an act. I figured that after the cameras stopped rolling Ramsay would get everyone in a group hug, dry their tears with the edge of his apron and they'd all pile into his Prius and go get some fro yo.

Apparently I was wrong...Read More...

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Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Here's one of those posts where I try and make my life look interesting

I'm going to write one of those entries that condenses the events of the past few weeks or so into a few short, neat paragraphs. This makes my life look way more interesting than it is because it's action-packed and gives the impression that I'm doing something other than updating my Facebook profile every five minutes. You may even say to yourself, "Holy crap that Sweatpantsmom has got an interesting life!" which is what I say to myself to keep myself from crying while I'm scrubbing the toilet bowl.

HOW TO LET A THIRTEEN YEAR OLD DOWN EASY

Kira recently got asked out on her first date. I mentioned this before, but it bears repeating only because I didn't get to explain how the boy asked her out which is so - for lack of a better word - cute. Apparently he found out who sat next to Kira in math and texted that girl during class and asked her to ask Kira out for him. I told you it was cute.

Then, when the girl relayed the message and Kira said 'no,' he told the girl that now he felt like an ass and to tell Kira he was just kidding. I don't think he meant for the girl to relay the 'ass' part of the message but she did, and when Kira told me this story I immediately felt sorry for the poor guy. I asked her if she was at least nice when she turned down, and she said she told the girl to tell him, "I'm too young to date." Is that brilliant or what? She had already learned to let the guy down easy with the teen version of, "It's not you, it's me."

I KEPT UP WITH A KARDASHIAN

kim-kardashian-shawn-johnson-dancing-with-the-stars-finaleA couple of weeks ago I interviewed Kim Kardashian for Genlux magazine. She showed up without any makeup and was still beautiful, and the best part was that she ate like a real person, because I have this thing about not trusting anyone who doesn't eat. You'll have to read the article when it comes out to see what she ordered, but let's just say for once I didn't feel lonely while chowing down on my fried chicken.

Also, she talked about O.J. Simpson (her dad Robert was O.J.'s best friend and also part of his defense team) which was really intriguing, and surprising since I wasn't sure if she would be willing to divulge anything about it. When I was telling Rigel about it Kira overheard and said, "What? You talked about orange juice?" I told her she certainly wouldn't get asked out on any more text dates with that kind of sarcasm.

STEP ASIDE KATIE COURIC

shawn-johnson-wins-dancing-with-the-stars-finaleWe were invited to a Lunchables event and Kiyomi got to interview Shawn Johnson, the Olympic gold medalist and Dancing With The Stars finalist. I think she did a good job, considering the kid is only ten and this was her first interview. (I'm talking about Kiyomi, not Shawn.) When we got to the event Kiyomi was pretty nervous, but she walked right up to a Los Angeles Times reporter and started chatting him up and pretty soon he was divulging what kind of Lunchables he liked best. I think this kid's going to go far - imagine if that was Charlie Sheen and he was talking about hookers. CLICK HERE to see Kiyomi's interview with Shawn.


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Monday, May 11, 2009

I Think About Denise Richards So You Don't Have to

My latest post is up over on MamaPop, and in it I ponder the enigma that is Denise Richards. Why is she so famous? Who asked her to sing? Did she really ask for Charlie Sheen's sperm? Some may call it an obsession, but I just call it the musings of a concerned citizen.

You can read more, and listen to Denise sing over here.

Let's just say she's no Susan Boyle.

And speaking of Susan Boyle, surprising voices and Britain's Got Talent, take a listen to Greg Pritchard.

Let's just say he's no Denise Richards.




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Thursday, April 23, 2009

What a girl wants

Kira turned thirteen last week and I vowed a week of posts about her, but as you can see that hasn't happened. Not that it would matter to her, since she would be perfectly happy if I never mentioned her on my blog, ever. Apparently there are some people who just don't like having every little detail of their life splattered across the internet for strangers to see. Strange, I know. I would say she's no daughter of mine, but if you saw her tear through a sale rack at Macy's you'd know otherwise.

A few weeks ago Rigel bought Kira an early birthday present. She already knew what it was, but that didn't dampen her excitement as she started to unwrap it. She did it slowly and deliberately, and when she finally had the prize in her hand she looked like a kid who just found out school had been cancelled forever.

"OMIGOD, isn't it beautiful?" She cooed over it for a few minutes before she let any of us touch it. You would have thought there was something priceless in her palm, like the Hope Diamond or the world's last piece of bacon.

A tiara? A shiny new iPod? A bar of solid gold? No, what she was hyperventilating over was her brand new capo, a device that clamps onto her guitar and allows her to change its key. I had no idea what it was, and when I first saw it I thought Rigel had made a horrible mistake and had just given our thirteen-year-old daughter some sort of gynecological instrument.

While she's still determined to go to art school, one of the things that has become very evident is that Kira has a natural gift for music. Where I took seven years of piano lessons and came out of it barely being able to play a chord, Kira spent only a couple of summers taking guitar and has already taught herself how to play a lot of her favorite songs just by using the 'tabs' she finds online. My musical future ended when I played an off-key, mistake-laden version of the theme from 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang' that nearly caused my teacher to come at me with a crowbar, and here's Kira plucking away to her beloved Ting Ting's tunes, strumming a few pieces from the "Juno" soundtrack and jamming along to a song from some band called The Kills. So it's safe to say that all of her musical genes have definitely come from Rigel, although the way she curses under her breath and kicks the table when she gets a note wrong? That's totally me.

She's been wanting to learn how to play the piano as well, so our 'big' gift to her for her birthday was a Yamaha keyboard. She doesn't start her lessons until next week, but she's already managed to teach herself the theme from her favorite show, Fringe. I have to say it's so exciting to see her so inspired about something, and I'm hoping she remains this passionate about music as she grows up. This whole thing is a bonus for Rigel as well, since picking out Kira's gifts at Guitar Center is definitely preferable to having to shop for leg warmers at Claires.

And while she's forbidden me to videotape any of her recent performances, I still have this video of her playing guitar to Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams when she was 10. (I can sell it to MTV one day when they ask me for early footage of Kira once she becomes an international recording sensation. I guess I better hang on to that capo - it could pay for my new kitchen someday.)



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Friday, April 17, 2009

LA Moms Blog: I wouldn't know a celebrity if they moved in next door to me

I know I promised a week of posts about Kira, but that'll have to wait until next week since I'm busy preparing for the 20 teen girls who are going to descend on our house tomorrow for her 13th birthday party. So my current post on the LA Moms Blog will have to do. Besides, I thought many of you would probably rather check out a half-naked picture of my good friend David Boreanaz anyways.

Almost thirteen years ago, right after I had my first baby we were living in the Hollywood Hills. Like most new mothers, I spent a freakish amount of time pushing my newborn daughter in her stroller around the neighborhood, partly to let her get some fresh air but mostly to pull myself away from endless hours spent on the couch crying and watching Roseanne reruns.

A couple of times on those walks I ran into a neighbor, David, who had recently moved into a house around the corner from us. He mentioned that he was an actor but I didn’t give it much thought until one day when my nieces, who were tweens then, were at my house watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer and while changing a diaper I happened to glance up at the TV and saw my neighbor on the screen. “Hey, that guy lives two houses away,” I pointed out, gesturing towards the TV with a poop-smeared wipe in my hand. Obviously I had never watched the show and had no idea who this Angel character was, but judging by the ear-piercing, alien-sounding squeals coming from my nieces this David Boreanaz guy was a big deal...Read More...

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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Let me tell you about Kira

Kira turns 13 this week, and in honor of her becoming a teenager I'm going to do a week of posts about her. I'm also thinking of relaxing the No Reading My Blog rule, so that she can see what people are talking about when they walk up to her and say things like, "That was so funny what your mom said about you," and "If my mom said those things about me in public I'd DIE." Also, I'm hoping it'll have the exact effect I'm hoping for: after reading a few of my posts she'll never, ever want to to read my blog again. Sort of like the aftermath of seeing your parents push their way onto the dance floor at your cousin's wedding; thanks for the glimpse into your life, but I can really do without ever seeing you two do the Electric Slide again, thank you very much.

mtv-ultimate-fan-gwen-stefani-tweens-teens-teenagersI remember years ago watching a show on MTV about extreme fans, and they were featuring a thirteen-year-old girl who was obsessed with Gwen Stefani. One segment showed her parents taking her to get her hair dyed pink, just like Gwen, and I remember getting all bent out of shape as I was watching it. This was back in my early, first years of parenting, those idealistic years when you tend to say crazy things like, "My kid will never watch TV," and "I'll never pick up my kids from school wearing my pajamas and then lie about it and try to call them my workout clothes."

I mean, what kind of parent lets their minor child change their hair color? Why not just give her a stripper pole and a pair of lucite heels? As far as I was concerned, this was just one step away from a life on the streets. Sure it's just a bottle of hair dye today, but tomorrow you can bet they'll be smoking crack in a back alley and showing up with their 50-year-old boyfriend and your new 'grandchild.'

At least that's what I thought. Until Kira told me she wanted to bleach her hair for her thirteenth birthday, and Rigel and I thought about it for all of two minutes and then said, "Okay." Because here's a kid who gets straight A's, does her homework without having to be told, is polite and respectful and a joy to be around. And in light of all the things she could have asked for as she plunges into teendom, a new haircolor was the least of our worries - we were just happy that she wasn't asking for a ride to the free clinic to pick up some 'supplies,' or asking if some guy she saw perform at a club could come stay with us when he was in town. (Oh wait - she did ask us that one. Stay tuned for Wednesday's post.)

In fact, my thoughts about that MTV show didn't even cross my mind until I was in the salon watching Kira getting her head lowered into the shampoo bowl. It made me think of a few things that I'd want to say to the mom I was back then: Not to worry, that haircolor doesn't make the girl, and Kira is going to grow into such a great kid you'll be happy to let her dye her hair every color of the rainbow.

Oh, and another thing I'd tell myself back then - everyone knows those are your pajamas.

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tags: | teenagers