Saturday, November 29, 2008

More later, but isn't Thanksgiving a fab holiday?

So, all the excitement is over. New York, Coldplay, lovely visitors, and Thanksgiving. And while it was all very fun and exciting, I cannot say that I am sorry that things will come back to normal. I am actually the sort of girl who likes her excitement by the teaspoon, so that I may savor it.

Jake has taken all the children and gone to dinner with his family at the Old Spaghetti Factory (bless his saintly soul), and I am all alone. This solitude is a rare and exciting in itself. I was feeling a bit contrary, because my planned and plotted nap this afternoon had been foiled, and I thought, I can totally picture myself in a big tub, bubbles up to my eyeballs, holding one of those long-handled cigarrettes from ye olden days of back knows when.

The mental image was very pleasurable, in a dangerous, old Hollywood way. But it isn't what nice Mormon ladies do, right? Or really, what any smart ladies anywhere do, who don't want cancer or stinky hair. Which is like, everybody. Or ought to be, anyhow. Plus, how weird would I look, when the drug addiction had grown, and could not be contained to my bathtub, flicking tobacky ashes from that foot-long cig out the window of my blue Honda minivan? Totally not gamorous, right?

So instead, I got in the tub with a frisbee-sized chunk of pumpkin pie and about 2 cups of whipped cream (please be advised that whipped cream is not one of those things I enjoy more by the teaspoon, like excitement), and read The Geurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society until my toes grew raisiny, and the water tepid.

Bliss, people.

Also, don't hate me, but I didn't gain any weight in New York. Even though I really should have. If only due to the many, many blueberry scones I ate with clotted cream every morning. And that was just breakfast. Perhaps I have a tape worm?

So now, I've grown bit cocky, and feel like maybe I'm some sort of superhero who's rear is immune to pie and scones. Which is a slippery mental slope, I know, but what a fantastic superpower, eh? Luckily, I've almost eaten the pie up, so the leftovers problem will be moot, soon enough.

After I've polished off the jell-o salad, anyhow.

Thanksgiving is a lovely, lovely holiday.

More on New York, Coldplay, and our fabulous Utah visitors later. I'm going to go paint my fingernails and catch up on some TV.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Live from New York...Friday Night

Kelly: So, hows about we take the subway to Saks Fifth Avenue?

Mom: No, I don't like the subway.

Kelly: You haven't been on a New York subway train since 1968.

Mom: So? People pee down there.

Kelly: What about you, Jen?



Jen: (Hailing a cab). (Cab pulls up to curb).

(We all slide into the cab.)

Kelly: Jen, are you ignoring me?

Jen: Huh?

Kelly: Can't you hear me?

Jen: I got these special thick earmuffs, so I can't hear you talk about riding the subway.


12:oo pm

Mom: I'm not feeling so good

3:00 pm

Mom: Maybe I shouldn't have taken that packet of vitamins the size of my fist? My stomach is all gurgly.

5:00 pm

Mom: I don't know if I am going to make it to August: Osage County. I'm quite uncomfortable.

Jen: Mom, you are a diabolical genius. You have totally been developing your alibi all day long! You totally have an out, at either intermission! I am totally stuck there.

Kelly: No, Mom is even smarter than that. She has cleverly refused to even hail a cab or pay a driver in all the years we've been coming to New York. If she needs to go back to the hotel, she'll neeed an escort.

Jen: Mom is a genius. Plus, my stomach is feeling a bit queer.


Jen: So, I read on your blog that Alyson is worried that you are a 50 year old pervert. And then you said you hoped that Alyson wasn't a pervy man, either. So I think you should tell Alyson that if she turns out to be a pervy man, she can go ahead and sit with us at the theater tomorrow, but she cannot go to dinner with us.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Cousin Joe Sings Christmas songs. You want his CD for free?

I think you people should buy like 100 of these and give them to all your relations and what- nots. (Who-nots?)

Or, getting only 10 would be okay, too. 

Or, I guess, just one, even. 

You can order them HERE.
Or you can go see them at the Mesa, Arizona LDS Temple, Dec. 20 at 7 pm for a free concert.

What's that you say? How about I give away a CD for free?

Yeah, okay, I will.

So leave me a comment to enter. And if you link to this giveaway in your cozy corner of the internets, you are entered again! And if you buy one for somebody else, you are entered again! And if you leave me a comment telling me how I'm awesome, you are entered 10 more times!

No, scratch the last one. I already know I'm awesome. Sometimes. (Not so much today, though, when I've been cleaning my house ALL THE WHOLE DAY LONG, and I think I forgot to brush my hair. And maybe my teeth. But my house is pretty awesome. You should come over.)

And since I'm going to be out of town, then very busy with COLDPLAY and then the turkey, let's let this CD thing go until Monday, December 1, shall we? About 10ish am? 

Okay! See you then!

P.S. Joe and I were in a fake band together for like two weeks in 1995. We played a sweet gig in my living room at the Riv*. 

Okay fine, it wasn't a gig. It was a practice. In case we had a gig. But we didn't.

I think our fake band broke up because the other band members figured out I knew only 4 chords on my guitar. Or maybe because the songs I wrote with my four chords were so depressing it made them cry. 

I'm lying again. 
I'm the only one who cried.

Those songs were fantastic. I should record them like Joe and his boys did. But then I'd have to give all the copies away for free, because who wants to pay for only 4 chords?

I think the Christmas songs are better.

* The Riv (The Riviera) is a seedy apartment complex in Provo, quite near to the BYU. Not for even a moment of the 2.5 years I lived there did I ever feel like I was on a tropical vacation. 

You should leave me comment now.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Pie and burger fast. To get ready for the Big Apple. Where we will see 4 lovely musicals and one stinker high-brow play, maybe.

So guess what? I don't have any time to try to write something witty and clever. I'm going to NEW YORK this week! And then this morning I remembered I forgot to lose 5 pounds before my trip. So I am on a strict pie and In-n-out fast, (where I don't eat pie or In-n-Out). But it is very hard, because I noticed there was a House Hunters International recording on my TIVO last night, and nothing goes better with HHI than a Hamburger Animal Style, hold the pickles. So maybe I should go on a pie and In-n-Out fast where I ONLY eat pie and In-n-Out? Cause what if my plane goes down over Kansas, and I spent my last days depriving myself of some of life's greatest pleasures?

Talk about a tragedy.

So I am very thrilled about my upcoming trip. I got us tickets to 5 shows: Billy Elliot, Spamalot, Tale of Two Cities The Musical, 13, And August: Osage County.

Every year I pick a serious play that turns out to be a real stinker. Is tradition, like how I eat the chocolate out of the advent calendar pockets and blame it on the baby. The first stinker was Democracy, the second, Rock'n'Roll. Except, I didn't totally hate Rock'n'Roll, (just mostly hated it it), so I stayed when Mom and Jen left at intermission, both complaining of  ailing intestines (seemed rather convenient, as nobody got sick during Legally Blonde or Mary Poppins, now did they?), and had to find my way through Times Square and into a cab all alone late at night. 

So now, I think I pretty much know how it feels to be a pioneer.

Sorry. So this year, the probable stinker is August: Osage County. Which is 3.5 hours long. I think Jen is already planning to bolt. I am going to see if she wears her trainers. Or if she schedules dessert at Chickalicious during the third Act. She wanted to go strictly low-brow with the entertainent this year, but I just couldn't do it. Maybe next year, if Osage County is bad news. Which it could totally be. Seems likely.

And guess what else? A blogging friend, Alyson of New England Living, is coming out to see Spamalot with us! And then, I think we are going to an early dinner at Bar Americain, but Jen is holding the food itinerary hostage. I think she wants to laminate it and surprise us on the airplane (or maybe she is just really, really busy being the Young Women Prez).

As soon as I get back, my old (okay, not old, former) college roommate and her family are coming to see COLDPLAY with us, and are staying for Thanksgiving! Which is good news! But this roommate was always a bit fastidious. And by fastidious, I mean, she liked to keep her clothes in the dresser and did her own dishes most of the time. And she also liked to do calculus. Which seemed a bit suspect, at first, but she turned out to be nice in spite of it all. So I am trying to clean stuff up a bit, because back in college, I was too busy looking for boys to clean anything, and I want to show her that I have changed! That I am soo tidy now!  But creating that illusion will take some work, and I am going to be out of town for the days preceding her arrival. 

Maybe seeing Chris Martin live will blind her to my not-quite-pristine refrigerator shelves? I'm counting on it! Just don't look in my closets, okay, Kari?

Anyhow, I've lots to do, cleaning things out and not eating burgers and pie. (Or eating lots of burgers and pie. I haven't quite decided which.) Also, I wanted to read some Dickens to prepare for A Tale of Two Cities, the Musical. But that may not happen. Either way, I don't have any time for long, lengthy posts.


Oh well. You should tune in Thursday night, when I will be blogging live from
5th Avenue/Central Park South! 
(No, we are not staying in the Apple Store. Or FAO Schwartz.) 

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Dear Lemon Meringue Pie,

I'd like to apologize for eating you for breakfast on Monday. You likely thought you were safe from consumption until at least 10 am. You didn't realize that it was going to be a busy day around here, and if I was going to have time for stress eating, I was going to need to start early. 

Love, Beeswax

Are you people super busy, like me?
Are you forgetting stuff?
Do you have no time for your TIVO?
Do you have about $300 dollars worth of clothes you didn't use for family pictures, that need to be returned all over town?

What? No? Where did I lose you? Let me back up.

Do you get your kids off to school on Monday morning and wonder why your home looks like a frat house the morning after a crazy party? Like, a party with the sorority girls and lots of kegs? Cause mine does. Pretty much exactly.

What, you don't believe me? You don't think I've been inside like, a trillion frat houses? You think I'm a nerdy goody-goody who went to the University of Arizona for two years and never went to a single frat party? Or tapped a single keg? And you think when I write about crazy keggers, it sounds false and uncomfortable, like when 7th Heaven tried to deal with the hard hitting issues?

Well, you might be right. But I was totally invited to the parties. All the time. (All the girls without moustaches were invited). But I was super busy doing the stuff that nice, goody-goodies do. Which is a secret. So I can't tell you. But I'll give you a hint. It might include going to Church dances where sometimes we had to dance to the Footloose Soundtrack

Yes, this was 1992. Everybody did not need to cut loose.

So anyhow, my house looked really bad on Monday morning, but actually, my carpets didn't reek of vomit, urine, or beer, and worse, like what I imagine is on the carpets of real frat houses (those boys should really opt for tile), so I guess that's a plus. But apparently I can't lie very well about the checkered past I don't have, waking up in dirty fraternity houses, etc. So there goes my career in fiction. 

The one I was going to have when I wasn't quite so busy.

I'm not so busy to notice that my kids are pretty hilarious right now. Even though I'm still in mourning because Tommy started calling Winnie-the-Pooh by his given name instead of "Yucky-Poo," and he doesn't scream "hot SH*T" when he is concerned that his car SEAT is going to give him second degree burns (only downside to fab weather). But Ross asked me yesterday if he thought he could make a living with a television show in which he crashes self-designed lego vehicles into walls. And in the lego store, Sam saw the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull merchandise and told Jake "Hey, Dad, that reminds me of double-u double-u double-u dot legos dot com backslash Indiana Jones!"

It is all about the Legos around here, nowadays. Except for Tommy, who is over in the corner right now playing with Lincoln Logs, and potty talking to himself. "Pee or poop, pee or poop, pee or poop?" I wonder if this means he's ready for toilet training? He seems a bit confused. I should wait.

Family pictures could have gone way worse than they did (and have in the past). It was like when you go to the dentist and you don't have any cavities. Great, of course, but still, a trip to the dentist. I sure hope we get something good, cause we aren't doing that again for two years. I ended up scrapping all the previous outfit ideas for Jane, thanks to some of your helpful comments, and bought her this cute little ensemble from Janie and Jack, which she wore with jeans and ballet shoes:

I could go on. But I need to go can 20 pounds of meat that will soon go bad, put away all the groceries I was out getting until 10:30 last night (but spent $25 and saved $150, so it was worth it, I think), go get Tommy out of the corner and interact with him a bit, and take a shower. I might need some In-n-out for lunch to sustain me. And then afterward, more pie. 

Dear Lemon Meringue Pie,

Consider yourself warned.

Friday, November 07, 2008

Hey you. Please help me dress my kid.

So, we are taking family pictures with a new-to-us photographer on Monday morning. Which is torture, and I'll likely become murderous, so I don't do it very often. Anyhow, I think I have everyone's outfit picked out,  but one: Jane.  

Choice #1

Choice #2

What? You think the skirt in choice #2 looks like my sister's junior prom dress from 1993? Er, it could be. You are clearly a very perceptive (wo)man. You see, if you hoard stuff long enough, you can use it again. Maybe. If the people who read your blog pick it. 

Being a pack rat is really a fantastic idea. I'm not sure why it gets such a bad rap.

So be honest. Tell me if it looks like I rigged up my only female offspring in cast-off formal wear. The rest of us will all be in black, red, white, and gray. And Justin Timberlake's jeans. So that we will look like hot tamales.

And by we, I mean, me. O'course.

So,   #1 0r #2 for Jane? Or should I spend tomorrow afternoon shopping? 

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Election day! And fun size gluttony! And a free apron at Jane's blog!

Yeah! After today, I will not get any more robo-calls! Because, who listens to those things, anyhow? And I need to drop off my early ballot, which is not so early, but I have researched everything, including every single proposition, non partisan race, and judge. So I feel I have done my duty as an American citizen for today.

Halloween was fun. I always like the actual trick-or-treating, you know. Too bad I've been eating hundreds of tiny candy bars for 4 days now. (My Mom gives out full sized candy bars. She says they are the REAL fun size.) Need to quit eating, so that I can save my gluttony for New York in a few weeks! 

Today our high should be only 79! BRRR, is nearly chilly! So in celebration, I am going to attempt to wear a juicy tracksuit all the whole day long! And a bra, too, even! Oh, and my "I voted early" sticker, too! I totally think I can do it. I am gonna look super fine, people. Cause that bra really makes the whole outfit! If your see me on the street, you're gonna be like, "wow, see that hot-civic-minded-soccer-mom over there? She is medium foxy!" It might get pretty sweaty, later, but I can crank up the AC, if I need it.

My sister-in-law, Jane, is giving away an apron over to her place. That she will make you, her own self. Remember how she made one for me, for my birthday? And how, when I wear it, I feel like Donna Reed, only in color? So you should go enter to win, because if you do win, and you wear it to cook your dinner, you will not be able to resist humming "I Feel Pretty."