Thursday, July 31, 2008

Love Bursts

Last night, Mimi came out and sat right next to me so our BOBs (Big Ol' Butts) were touching. She still, at age 8, likes to sit as close as she can, since she's outgrown our laps. I noticed her nose and eyes were red, as if she was crying. I couldn't think of any reason why she would be crying, she didn't get in trouble or anything. She was just in her room cleaning it. I guess sometimes I cry when I have to clean, too.

I said as I touched her nose, "You have a red nose."

She looked at me and said, "That's because I've been crying."

I said, "Why have you been crying?"

"'Cause I was thinking about Lauren and what a good friend she is and how we'll always be best friends and it made me cry." She experienced her first "love burst."

Quite a few years ago, The Link Between Ape and Man - I mean Jared - and I would call each other up and say,"I was just thinking of you and I had this overwhelming burst of love for you." Then we started calling them "love bursts." I'm sure you have felt love bursts for others, too. They start in your toes and wrinkle your nose.....well, maybe for some people. But it's when you think about someone and you find yourself smiling. Then it makes you feel grateful that you have a friend or spouse like them. But it seems really weird to call up your friend and say, "I love you, man." They might think you swing the other way. It's kind of a shame we can't always express ourselves, but I can tell friends I had a love burst for them.

When children love each other as good friends, they hold hands as they run and play. Sometimes they invade other's spaces a little too much until the other child is crying, "Quit hugging me!" They eventually grow out of it. Except maybe Frankie. 'bout telling your BFF how much they're appreciated next time you have a love burst. Jared and I still call each other or text "love burst!"

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Holey Hairspray!

I've had blogger's block. Only a few more days and we'll be on that Qantas airplane to Oz. Hopefully, there won't be any holes blowing out in the fuselage. I wonder if I should bring my can of hairspray with me or if there's a possibility of it exploding. Now I'm wondering if it is worth risking the lives of hundreds of passengers all in the name of vanity. I think it's a risk I must take. I don't think they have strong enough hairspray to hold my do in place there in Oz. With such a complicated, sophisticated style only a few hairsprays can conquer! I know darn well there will be other passengers with explosive toiletries in their bags!

One thing I love about flying internationally is you get to watch movies, get served food, watch another movie, get served drinks, watch another movie, get served a snack. I really like being served! I could totally get used to having a maid. One day.

We flew Japan Airlines on the way to USA when we immigrated. Well, I didn't immigrate, I was a citizen. Ali was three years old at the time and this cute little Japanese grandpa folded origami animals for her. He didn't speak English and she was still learning the language but it didn't matter. A smile is the same in every language and they were new friends. It helped that she had blonde hair and blue eyes and had the sweetest disposition. They just sat together and smiled at each other. Ali still talked to him and didn't realize he didn't understand a word she said.

The flight attendants took her for a walk around the plane and gave her a children's pack with little toys. If you've never flown JAL their customer service is amazing. Their flight attendants look like Japanese models and were the prettiest I've seen in my career of traveling. Sad for Seth because he had blonde hair and brown eyes and didn't get as much attention. He was "five and a hawf" as he would say with his Aussie accent. Now he's almost 18 and I'm sure he'll get more attention from the flight attendants than Ali this time. He's grown up to be quite a handsome man and looks older than he is, so I'm just going to hold his hand everywhere we go. Okay, that's a bit weird. I'll just keep announcing his age when I introduce him.

Back to the airplane ride, where I will be served my breakfast, lunch and dinner (and did I mention the warm, moist towels they give you to wipe your face in the morning?) and watch movies......sigh. I'm already there. Hairspray and all.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Thanks For Seeing Things My Way

Somehow, I stumbled across this video clip that said, "Sad song." I guess I was feeling emotionally stable that day and wanted to find out how sad it really was. It was kinda nice throughout the whole thing, the song is really beautiful, the actors are beautiful and at the end there was a "shocking" event. I thought, "That is so demented." I couldn't believe my eyes! And I couldn't believe the sappy comments made about the video. Doesn't anyone see how absolutely twisted this is?! When you watch the video, you'll understand my title a little more and see the humor in it.

It's not that I'm a cold person by all means, but how do people think up these things? I clicked on the English version and couldn't understand it anymore than the Korean version. Then I watched the version with English subtitles and the words are actually really nice, and like some of the comments said, had nothing to do with the video. Does anyone else think this is demented?

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Introducing The First Female President

I just went to someone's Facebook account and one of the ads said that George Bush has an IQ of 125. Ha! I am smarter than our president! No offense, President Bush, your royal highness in whom I have great respect for. Please don't send the men in black! I would like a comment from you though. I think I'll add that in my resume, that I'm smarter than our president. I might win a whole new respect. I'm going to run for office.

Then, it said a friend of mine wanted me to challenge their IQ score of 115. Ha! I laugh at that challenge! Anyone who has played Cranium with me knows I'm the champion! Except the Data Head questions, Jared always knows those. Some of them I have known. It's a good thing he's on my team. In fact I was thinking if I had a pseudo name for him, it might be Data Head. Or the Alien, because he was a "Resident Alien" until he got his citizenship. And he likes Sci-Fi. Or Sweetie Pie Babycakes Honey Muffin. Or "The Link between Ape and Man."

S0 it's made my day that I'm smarter than George and way smarter than my friend who wants to challenge me. I'm going to do the "Smarty Pants Dance."

Friday, July 18, 2008

Pork Chopsh and Appleshaushe

Yesterday I woke up to Mimi wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt with Bobby Jack the monkey's face in rhinestones on the front. She had on jeans that she had folded just below the knee that created one giant cuff that covered most of her thigh. Instead of her flip flops she had tennis shoes with socks. On her head she wore Seth's red T-shirt sleeve that he tore off. She cut the edges so it created little curls on the end. She decided she was going to be a tomboy now that she looked the part.

She told me she likes sports. I told her you don't have to be a tomboy to like sports. "I know, but I'm still a tomboy, " she says. "Is dancing a sport?" I said yes. "I like ballet and hip hop" she announces, while attempting a combination of both. She looked quite"special" and that's the only way I can explain that. If you remember the "Solid Gold" dancers, she danced like that but on steroids.

Then she asked "Is hula hooping a sport?" I said, "Sure." " 'Cause I love hula hooping!" she said. Actually, everything she says ends in an exclamation point. I was wondering what I was going to do with all the pink clothes, accessories, bedding, etc. My baby has gone to the dark side.

This identity crisis reminded me of Peter Brady (Brady Bunch) when he had his identity crisis. He would experiment with different characters and he acted like Humphrey Bogart saying, "Pork chopsh and appleshaushe." I love that episode.

So I had this little talk about being yourself and not changing who you are, cause we love Mimi just like she is. By the end of the day she was our little pink dictator - I mean princess again. Then she was asking about getting a puppy. Her words were pouring out of her like.....Niagra Falls. I said, "Mimi. Quit talking so much." Her reply, "Then I would change who I am!"

Thursday, July 17, 2008


1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!
2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Will Work for Liposuction

I went to a job fair today. I don't know why they call it a fair. It's not fun. And it's not fair that I don't have a job! Well, it still didn't help me know what I want to be when I grow up. Growing up sucks. But not as much as growing out.

I had my resume scrutinized by a professional at the "fair." I got an "A" on my resume. I just needed to change a couple of things, like the font size for my address, the hot pink paper and get rid of the part where I say I'm 29. The girl said they may think I live a really hard life if I get an interview. Oh.....and she said I should leave out the part where I said I'm a Hispanic African American of Indian descent in a wheelchair and not sure if I'm male or female. But my 127 IQ score sure comes in handy! Especially being as gorgeous as I am and smart, too. I was commended for graduating from high school. That's such a big accomplishment for a blonde! No, really I was commended for graduating and all that other stuff was made up, except being gorgeous. And I don't know why I have to keep trying to prove to people how smart I really am. Maybe I should get a shirt that says "I'm with stupid" so they will know I'm smarter than them. Or "I scored a 127 on a free IQ test that comes with liposuction information."

Job hunting sucks! And why do they call it hunting? Like deer hunting? Like Easter egg hunting? Why couldn't I just be a rich housewife having lunch at the country club with a massage man named Sven? Then the only hunting I would do is "bargain hunting." Armed with plastic, with a mission to conquer and put lots of goodies in my basket.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

I thought I would include this picture for historical purposes. This is where my art talents started. I drew this when I was four years old, the same year my brother was born.
(He didn't know I was supposed to be an only child until later.) Just kidding! I mainly put this in because my dad would like a copy of it. I won't include the one I drew of you in the shower though, Dad!
Since this picture I have improved in my art skills and have changed my subject matter completely. Maybe I would make more money at it if I kept nature real - animals going potty, monkeys eating poo, etc. Another job opportunity in answer to my mid-life crisis!

Monday, July 14, 2008

Prosecuters Point at Penny Press for Puzzling Pain

My pulsating pain is proof the promotion of puzzles (particularly "Places Please" puzzles) propogates pain in people's palms. I propose to prosecute Penny Press Publications who profits profoundly from people who are prone to palm pain. Prompt professional proceedings to prioritize this problem prevents prodding for pricey, pragmatic pressings. "Places Please" puzzles possess and pillage plausible people like a plague. Please pray the perpetual pain will perish and my prognosis will improve. I'm a painter in poignant peril, plummetting from my pale pallette. Prescribed Prozac pills doesn't prevent persistant pain and personality problems. Perhaps people pooh-pooh at this preposterous pursuit, but prepare for prolonged pain in your palm.....and pupils - if I don't prevail.

Try reading this with freshly applied lip gloss! Now I will publish post.


I noticed one of the options on the personality test I took (which was very accurate) you could take a free IQ test. I wanted to see where I stood compared to Einstein and my 17 year old.

It starts out asking some intelligent questions, to which I knew most of the answers. Then in the middle of the questions it asks if you're interested in a cruise, winning a free dinner, refinancing your house, etc. A little marketing tactic. Then I finish the test and it says to see your score you must choose from the following options and check the boxes of your interests. So of course, I check that I'm not interested in any of the options. Then it says that I have to check at least one box to continue. Then I realize I'm not very smart at all because I'm desperate to find out my IQ score so I check that I'm interested in winning a $500 credit card, a cruise and plastic surgery.

Finally, after pages and pages of options of interests I get my score. I got a whopping 127. I was very excited to get my score except I didn't know what 127 meant. So I had to look it up on Wikipedia. This is what I found: First answer, are you interested in a second mortgage?

That score, 127, means that I am smarter than the average blonde! The IQ test is based on the bell curve. I hate that system! The highest it went to was 145. Average is 100. I just hope the Lord doesn't grade us on the bell curve system. (Then it would be called Hell curve.)

I was an honor student in high school, when my hair was still it's natural color. (To find out my natural hair color first answer if you are interested in getting a degree in phlebotomy.) After report card time other students would ask each other what their grade point average was. (4.0 being the highest, for my foreign readers.) I would answer 3.8, 4.0.....whatever it was at the time and some would say, "I didn't know you were smart." They were just confused because usually intelligence and beauty didn't go together.

So now, when people discover how smart I am (and they start expecting too much out of me) I know that it's definitely time to get my roots touched up. Except, a lot of them are gray, which is actually another shade of blonde. I not only have blonde moments, but senior moments too. It's much more fun in my world. I can blame my age or hair color for my senility.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

While Hubby's Away.......

Here is the top ten advantages of hubby going on a business trip:

10. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
9. I only have to make half the bed.
8. No one is disappointed when I don't make a gourmet dinner, again.
7. I get the bathroom all to myself. The toilet is cleaner.
6. I can drive either car and use up all his gas instead of mine.
5. I get his undivided attention when he phones.
4. I can sleep in and not feel guilty, because he won't know what time I actually got up.
3. I don't have to have the house spotless (because it is every day!)
2. He doesn't know that I've been shopping. He may not go out of town ever again.
1. There's only one person with flatulence in the house (that would be my son.)

But I do miss him......kinda. Okay, really. Please refer to #1 above.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008


Last night I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep. Everytime I was conscious of my thoughts I had the children's song "Five Little Ducks" going through my head. Then, in one of my momentary lapses of sleep, I dreamed about singing that song with rubber duckies. I actually had twenty ducks and to speed it up I started making two at a time "come waddling back."

So this morning when that song was still going through my head (they call that "brain worms" when you can't get a song out of your head) I analyzed why that song. Probably because those duckies were obedient. When mother duck said, "Quack, Quack, Quack, Quack" they came waddling back.

My version would be: mother duck said, "Quack" and the ducklings ignored her so she threatened their little duck butts and took away duckie privileges. And then she held their little duckie heads under water until they were gasping for air and promised they would get a job, mow the lawn and pick up their underwear off the bathroom floor.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008


I was talking to my two BFF's yesterday. I was experiencing PHD according to one. That's Post Hysterectomy Depression. She said it was kind of like how you feel after you have a baby. I asked, "I'm depressed because I had kids?" This probably isn't a good week to discuss them. School has been out for three weeks now. Need I say more? Because of them I have another PHD. The chores that are Piled Higher and Deeper.