Sandy Doesn't Even Cover It

Yesterday morning, while I was feeding the little one, I was watching myself a little GMA (not sure what that is?  Well, become a stay at home mom and you will be very aware of all the hits in the morning.)  Anyway, on GMA they were showing numerous images of devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy on the east coast.  As I saw fires in Brooklyn, waves crashing over the Atlantic City Boardwalk, trees down on homes and roads covered in water I started thinking - should all this mayhem really just be called "Sandy?"  I know, I know the World Meteorological Organization uses six lists of 21 names (Q, U, X, Y and Z names are not used) that it cycles through every six years, with the gender of the season’s first storm alternating year to year, and genders alternating through the rest of the hurricane season to name each storm, but come on, we really need to come up with a better system.  (You didn't know all that?)  My east coast readers - you are locked in your homes - try to learn something!

Anyway, this naming process is cute and all but let's be honest - is a name like "Sandy" really covering all the craziness that is going on right now?  I mean, to me, "Sandy" sounds more like the east coast is experiencing a wet kiss and loveable cuddle by some blonde Labrador, than 60mph winds and devastating rainfalls.  Therefore, I think from now on all major storms should be named after former WWE wrestlers.  Seriously, think about it - wouldn't you me more inclined to board up your house and run out for batteries if you heard the "Abdullah the Butcher" was about to hit your hometown?  Or what if it was being reported that "Gorilla Monsoon" was moving from a tropical storm to a massive hurricane?  Gorilla Monsoon?  Heck, I would move if I heard that bad boy coming.  And lastly, if "Sgt. Slaughter" came to my hometown it wouldn't just be forgotten once the debris was cleaned, but the day the storm hit would be remembered for years to come.  Children would become freakishly quiet if the word "slaughter" was ever used.  Adults would shudder as they recalled the time they first heard the meteorologist say, "'Sgt. Slaughter' is coming our way."

Think about it - these storms are reeking havoc.  The least we can do is they give them the respect they deserve.

Gender Conspiracy

After 30 minutes of searching on the internet for clothes for my child I have determined, that makers of baby clothes and moms around the nation, need to come together and come up with some kind of compromise.  I get it, for generations of time we have all believed that girls must be dressed in pink and boys be dressed in blue, but who then decided that girl outfits must also include ridiculous amounts of ruffles, lace, embroidered hearts and any other kind of bedazzling that screams, "No, seriously, my bald child is a girl.  A girl, I say!"  Why can't girl clothes come in blue?  Would this cause a great darkness to come over Asia and parts of Australia?  What if a girl's outfit had a car on it?  Would that mean sudden deaths would occur to people in Rhode Island, while they drive to work?  Honestly.  What is the big deal?  Do people really think babies look down at their outfits to determine their gender identity?  If so, the Dallas Cowboy football jersey, cut off jeans and Converse shoes I wore every single day, really should have caused me massive confusion, but it didn't.  And sure, there was a time when a sales clerk told my older brother he had a really cute younger brother, and I had to inform the dumb lady that I was a girl, but hey, it all got straightened out...oh wait...

Alright, alright, let's just lay off the pink.  I swear my girl will wear dresses occasionally, choose the correct bathroom at school and marry a man - can I now buy some blue clothes?

Evidence

 

Above are pictures of an actual house in my neighborhood...and the reason I wrote my last entry.  These pictures don't even show the half of it.

I felt this one deserved mentioning because of the pathetic effort.  (I also judge "mailed in" decorations.)  A leg caught in the window? That doesn't even make sense.

Points awarded for an actual pumpkin, but major deductions for the overuse of cobwebs and creepy children coming out of the ground.

I've included this picture because my child and I were questioned for our picture taking in the neighborhood by this woman with the dog.  I replied that I have a blog that gives advice on decorations, and that I was taking pictures for my readers.  So, I'm posting this picture to show that lady I wasn't lying.  My advice - don't do this.

I would like to apologize for ant typos - I wrote this entire blog with one hand while a baby sleeps in my lap.  Apparently, Elton John and blogging knocks her out.

 

Where Did All The Pumpkins Go?

I don't know what the equivalent of a Christmas "Bah, Humbug" would be for Halloween, but I think I've got it.  Don't worry it's not about the gluttonous amounts of candy that will be consumed, or the fact, that grown men will finally be able to fulfill their secret, and somewhat bizarre, desire to dress as a woman (Is it the fact that they get fake boobs for three hours?) but this year my complaint is about the ridiculous decorations I'm witnessing in the neighborhoods around my apartment.  Listen, where I grew up, Halloween decorations consisted of a carved pumpkin, maybe two if the family was going crazy, and maybe a fall themed wreath.  That was it.  Out here, in Santa Monica, I see barely any pumpkins (which makes me feel like the Communists are winning) and absolutely no wreaths.  But you know what I do see?  Homes covered in fake spider webs, skeletons left on the ground, fake grave sites, blown up pumpkins (this is definitely a Communist plot) and ghosts hanging from the trees.  IT'S TOO MUCH! 

First of all, why all the crap?  Did the store Michael's blow up and all this crap just accidentally landed on people's property?  Because if that's the case - then fine, all is forgiven.  However, if this crap was purposely purchased and then took an entire Saturday to put up - then no, nothing is forgiven. 

Second of all, Christmas decorations = pretty, festive, inviting.  Halloween decorations = tacky, doesn't look good in direct light or at night.  Oh, and come on, real gravestones don't say "Trick or Treat!"  GEEZZ.

Lastly, what are we celebrating here?  A man, who was burned and then put knives on his hands and scared the crap out of kids through their dreams?  Or is it the guy in the hockey goalie mask?  No, wait it must be that guy with the chainsaw...ahhh, I love that guy.

Okay, I take it all back.  Celebrate away...I hear Michael's still has some crap.

I'll be taking some pictures on my walk tomorrow. 

My Review of P90x

For the past few days I've been attempting to do P90X.  (Which has been awesome because I'm fulfilling two objectives: 1. Trying to get back in shape.  2. And continuing my plan of retaliation for the trombone and trumpet playing, that occurs everyday at 3:45, from my downstairs neighbors.  I've been going with the tried and true practice of holding my screaming baby up to the window, but I think this pounding of the feet will make some waves.) 

Anyway, can we talk about these videos?  First of all, I AM NOT GOOD at following a tape.  And this one isn't even that hard, but heck if I ever have the right foot forward or even remotely synchronized with these freaks of natures.  I swear, sometimes I feel like turning off the tape and for 30 minutes just kicking around the room, while my hands make flailing motions...it would be just about the same workout. 

Second of all, I hate the people on this tape.  Why?  Because they'll be like, "Hey Tony, I just did thirty reps of squats, but now I'm going to jump in the air and squeal with joy after each rep because this is the easiest and best workout!!"  Really, you paid actors?  I wish the tape had people like me on it.  Honestly, how funny would it be to see some fat guy dressed in sweatpants, (I love fat guys in sweatpants) panting through the tire jumps, or see some clueless woman in the back just stop and stare as she tries to figure out the jab, swing, hook and uppercut combination.  Now this is a workout I would do.  One, because it would be highly entertaining, and two because it would make me feel slightly more coordinated...slightly.

And lastly, I've got to stop having the audio on while doing this tape - it drives me nuts. Honestly, if I'm going to do your stupid tape, Tony, at least have the decency to be funny and not so awkward.  Some of his comments really should have made some intern in the back scream, "Um, can we do that again because Tony is making me feel weird again."  Seriously.  He'll walk up to his sweaty volunteers and say, "Are you breathing hard?  Are you?  I'm going to put my microphone up to your mouth so I can tell."  Hey Tony, I can see she's sweating, I don't need to hear her labored breaths every time I do the tape. 

So, what am I going to do with P90X?  Continue it, master it, make my own tape with the uncoordinated people in the background, market it as a blooper reel and work out video, and lastly, find Tony, get a microphone and tape his breathing to use as an additional feature on my DVD.  It's going to be fantastic.

Last Lesson

I think this sums it up.

Not So Much The Same Parts

Here's the thing - I understand that people work out and sweat.  And because of this sweat they feel the need to shower.  And, because they happen to be at a gym, that offers showers, they feel it makes sense to disrobe and then clean off.  Again, I'm okay with all of this.  But, here's what I'm not okay with - the public display of disrobing.  OH MY GOSH.  People, I don't know if you don't have loved ones if your life, who will speak honestly to you, or if you think sagging body parts are normal, but please, let's do the whole naked thing locked in a bathroom stall, in your car or anywhere, but in the freaking area you have to walk through to get to the bathrooms.

So, I'll be honest, I've been frequenting the locker room at the gym in order to weigh myself and monitor the lack of weight I'm losing after having a baby.  (The weight would be coming off except for the fact that I'm hiding another small child in my boobs.  I'm not sure the due date, but I'm pretty excited, as is the husband, to be having a set of twins in the next few months.)  Anyway, it seems like every time I enter the locker room some creepy woman is just standing there waiting for me to enter...and then it happens.  You know what I'm talking about - the awkward eye contact that is made to say from her end, "Yep, I'm naked from the waist up.  Pretty cool huh?"  And from my end, "I'm making eye contact so I don't have to look down and throw up."

I just don't get it.  I know, I know the first grade answer of, "We all have the same parts," but I got to be honest, my parts might be the same but they don't look the same as these National Geographic escapees.

Please creepy women, do me a favor, and let's cover it up.

Lesson 4

Sorry, sorry I had family in town and was unable to finish my lessons. Here's number 4. It's pretty self-explanatory.

Lesson 3

Listen kiddo, your mom has a lot of good traits...however, speaking in a foreign language is not one of them. Don't believe I have a flaw...well, watch this.

Lesson 2

Ah yes, lesson #2. So, I was in fifth grade and we were going to perform a whimsical musical about clowns. I decided, because no one took it upon themselves to tell me how bad I was, that I would try out for a lead role, which included a solo. The day of the try out for the role, I got a good night's sleep, ate a good breakfast and performed Richard Marx's "Right Here Waiting" with all my heart. To my utter surprise I was given the role...however, the original solo was slightly altered.

Lesson 1

For the past few days I've been going through some old videos of my childhood and college life. As I was looking through my awkward stages and "glory days," I thought, there's a lot of life lessons to be shared with my daughter. Therefore, for this next week I'll be sharing a video/lesson each day. Feel free to enjoy and hopefully you'll learn something too.

My New Schtick

I'm not going to lie, having a baby has not been the easiest transition.  I mean, errands?  Forget it.  Some how she always ends up knowing we are not out for nice walk, but in the middle of Costco.  However, there are times her strange knack for knowing we aren't enjoying a nice stroll can come in handy.  Take for example the other day when we were in Target:  I entered the store, returned an item, got a gift card with the return money and proceeded to do some shopping.  As I was checking out, Avery decided to wake up and started to get fussy. No big deal. However, the gift card, that I had just received, wasn't working and so I was directed back to the returns counter.  Now Avery is flat out angry.  As the Target employee was trying to figure out the problem with the gift card, Avery started to wail.  Finally, I said, "Listen I'll just pay for it for real."  Again, no problem - except their credit card machine was down.  Avery, and now myself, are beside ourselves.  Eventually, the transaction is made and I'm informed I've been given a 10% discount.  "Great," I say, and leave Target.  As soon as I take five steps from the return counter, Avery instantly stops crying.

This could become a great schtick: Go to store, attempt to make a purchase, shake baby, get discount, leave store with happy baby.

Good Idea?

This past weekend, here in LA, was Carmaggedon.  For those of you, who are lucky enough not to live in this convoluted city, Carmaggedon constitutes part of a major freeway being shut down while a bridge is constructed.  Now, I can imagine in most cities this wouldn't cause much of a disturbance, but here in LA it causes virtual mass hysteria.  Honestly, signs go up warning motorists about a month out, TV news anchors warn people to stay home, half of LA's police squads are out "defending" the closed down freeway and side streets, off the freeway, are monitored and watched by parking and traffic officials. 

So, with knowing all this, and having graduated from college, the husband and I decided to stupidly drive right into the epicenter of this madness.  Things were going alright until we decided to exit the freeway about two miles before the real traffic began and take side streets home.  Honestly, (I'm writing this with my head down) it seemed like a good idea...but then...actually before I write what happened let me ask you:  What do you think would be a good idea for LA to do when they shut down a major freeway?

a. Have city officials at corners and stopped lights offering their apologies for the traffic inconvenience through free hot dogs and popsicles? 

b. Place clear and easily understandable signs directing people to alternate routes in order to speed along their travel?

OR

c. CLOSE OFF A MAJOR SIDE STREET WITH A TRIATHLON SO NO ONE CAN GET EITHER NORTH OR SOUTH.

I guess you know what happened.  I have never been so angry in my life. We get off the freeway and are instantly dumped into another cluster of traffic.  No one knows what is going on, cops are sitting there defending the cross street and the idiots on bikes, who are participating in this triathlon sponsored by Satan, and all we are told is, "Get back on the freeway."  Really?  This was the plan?  Close off a major street and push cars back onto a gridlock freeway?

Honestly, if anyone knows who approved a triathlon on Carmaggedon I would pay handsomely for either their hanging, incarceration or the loss of their employment.  I will pay double if you make all three happen.  Come on people, it's Carameggdon - you don't do this kind of stuff.

Just Another Saturday Night

So, this is a great story.  The other night my husband and I went out to this great new restaurant and were given the total VIP treatment. We had this amazing table, our food was given to us for free, there were some celebrities next to us...

Oh wait..no...my baby threw up on me.