Friday, July 24, 2009

For every positive event, there's an equally negative event......

Honestly, I'm having one of those weeks where so many positive, uplifting, and gratifying events are followed immediately by equally negative events.... complete downers that quickly turn my smile into a frown. Knowing that life often seems like a random sequence of events, I'm guessing over the course of one's lifetime...the pluses and minuses balance each other out like debits and credits on an accurately completed accounting statement.

What is so bizarre is how short lived my celebrations seem to be. Almost like "Yes I WON the lottery" to just a nanosecond later stepping off a cliff and plunging to my death on the jagged rocks below. OK, that's a bit extreme, but has been a bizarre week of nice ups and quick downs.

Today was the last straw. I was waiting to get a haircut at Supercuts (don't ask) when I read that my beloved Cardinals just traded for Matt Holliday, a three-time All Star who will hopefully take them over the hump and lead them back into the playoffs. Ecstasy for the sportsboy, right? Yes, but just a few minutes later I'm sitting getting my haircut, and for the first time in umpteen years, a stylist tells me that I have dandruff! NO freakin' way I say. More on this later.

Now, earlier this week I was leaving Bren's and Vivi's eye doctor in midtown. I had just talked the parking attendant into reducing my parking fee from $2 to $1 because in all seriousness we were there from 2:42 to 3:44, and parking was $1/hour. I was like "it took me those two extra minutes just to find the exit out of this bloody lot." Completely satisfied and wondering whether to invest or save that extra dollar I turned from the lot onto the street and a crazy lady flagged me down.

She had to be a 'tweaking' meth or some type of drug addict. After slamming on the brakes and reluctantly rolling down my window she asked me to either watch her kids or give her some money because her car was broken down and she needed to take the bus. She was probably 35, but looked 45, filthy as all heck and had a hospital bracelet which was crumpled, partly torn and dirty. I didn't see any kidlets nor did I see a broken down car. This was a tough decision, but without being witness to any event, after reading "Beautiful Boy" and with my two young girls in the car I decided that I had to leave. I said no, rolled up my window and hit the gas. Safety was the most important consideration in making my decision, but I still felt guilty.

My final incident was a bit less serious, but more physically painful. Vivi asked if we could go to the pet store on our way home. I really really didn't want to go as I needed to come home and do Facebook or blog fold laundry. I'm like "how 'bout a piece of gum instead?" She said "yes." I said "YES!" Of course, while celebrating a victory over a five-year old I reached for the gum, and sliced my thumb on the side of the gum package........paper cut, paper cut!

In conclusion, I'm NOT going to jump for joy for awhile. I won't even smile or present a hint of a smirk. No way. I'll put on my poker face until this positive vs. negative, plus vs. minus, or whatever you choose to call it goes away.....

As for me, right now I'm going to hit the shower scrub my scalp and start using the expensive "product" that everyone else in this house uses...I'm going wean myself off the Kirkland brand for good!!!!

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Guess What I Am?

Let's play a quick game. I'll give you three words to describe a brand or name of something. You tell me what I'm talking about.

  1. Plastic
  2. Unscented
  3. Super
HMMMMM, tough one?

**Update: K and J, you are absolutely correct. Aunt JB, you were certainly on the right track. BC, you're silly 'cause silly p is not made out of least it wouldn't make sense if it was??
Since I've become House Beotch and have had to run 'that' errand on occasion I've never seemed to get it right....I've brought home cardboard when plastic was requested...scented when unscented was asked for....and finally regular instead of super. This is more difficult than finding irrigation system replacement parts at the Home Depot or a very specific rare ethnic ingredient at Safeway...

Alas, after her slamming my head against the wall helpful words of encouragement, I've finally found an E-A-S-Y way to remember...I just go by the first letters of the three words listed above. They certainly point me in the right direction... I'll never forget again. Thanks for playing along.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Let's mix it up a bit - a controversial topic.

Debate over California's Prop 8 which amended the California constitution to define marriage between a man and a woman continues to rage and thus polarize citizens of the "Golden State." The Sacramento Bee had an article this A.M. about a proposed bill that would recognize gay marriages from other states.

As some of you know, I lean to the right both fiscally and socially. I don't believe one can be fiscally conservative, but socially moderate. I also realize that it isn't chic to champion conservatism, but I decided to comment anyway.........

"Doesn't tolerance and acceptance of gay marriage fall into the belief of Federalism? Beneath federal laws (enumerated powers) each state comprised of various groups of people has the authority to determine the will of the majority based on beliefs, values, etc. Therefore, if you're offended by smoking, don't live in North Carolina. If you hate paying more taxes live in Nevada, Florida, New Hampshire, etc. If you are repulsed by the death penalty, don't live in Texas. If you hate farmers don't live in North Dakota. If you love to drive fast live in Montana.

My point? You have a choice to live in ANY state that you choose keeping in mind that every state is unique, has different customs, demographics, and laws. Just like I wouldn't go to Alaska and ask fisherman to stop fishing or move to Nevada and expect the gaming industry to end gaming...I wouldn't move from Massachussetts to California and expect Californians to change what the majority BELIEVES IN and that is marriage between a woman and a man."

Friday, July 17, 2009

Give me the "Dumbing it Down" version

Are you ready for some yummy tuna casserole or as we tell the triplets....noodles with stuff in them?

I recently found myself in the kitchen, alone and staring down at what I believed was the simplest cooking recipe known to any man, woman or preschooler for that matter. Oh no, actually I'm quite wrong about this. I became aware last evening that I'm too dumb to even decipher the easiest of the easy Internet tuna recipes from

Last night while I was in the process of boiling my elbow noodles for the above recipe (which by the way I've learned to "doctor up" with onions, cheese and a bad of potato chips), Mom MD walked by the stove, peered into the pot and asked how many cups of noodles I had used? My reply was "three, as that is how many it says on the recipe!" Here's how the simple recipe reads:

3 cups noodles, cooked

Mom MD's reply was "no, that's not right." I then said "Huh, what do you mean? Says right HERE, 3 cups noodles, cooked.....I put 3 cups of noodles in and I'm cooking them." She then said that this is not what it means and she can see why a man wouldn't understand this.....What the freakin' hell exactly am I missing here?

OK, I've read articles in recent years about the necessity by Betty Crocker and Co. to "dumb down" their cookbooks to reach new generations of culinary challenged individuals. Again, how am I getting this wrong? This was a SIX ingredient recipe from the Internet for pity sake. Mom MD then proceeded to explain what the directions really meant.

The cooked noodles should equal 3 cups. So how in the heck am I supposed to know how many noodles to put in the pot in the first place? We all understand that raw noodles expand when cooked, so how many dry cups of noodles yields 3 cups of cooked noodles? IF I put in three cups to begin with then I'll be wasting plenty of noodles when it's time to combine the ingredients. Am I lame here or what? I'm starting to think so............

Perhaps the answer to my puzzle is how the directions are worded? 3 cups of noodles, cooked....3 CUPS of noodles, cooked...3 cups of NOODLES, cooked..3 cups of noodles, COOKED.

OK, I think I understand. The recipe wants 3 cups of cooked noodles. So why doesn't it say this in the first place? Why doesn't it tell me how many cups of raw noodles to put in to yield 3 cups of cooked noodles?

The more I think about this...the more I think there is some kind of gender bias working against me. We men (especially those challenged in the kitchen) want to know how much to put in the pot in the first place to have enough noodles to complete the recipe. Is it 2 cups to make 3? How about 1.75 cups to make 3? We prefer exact numbers and appreciate precision. Just tell us. Forget the guessing and the eye balling. Just tell us (& me), please!

I suppose I can take comfort that I was only making a tuna casserole and not building a rocket or something..........

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Silly Haiku Wednesdays

Join the fun!

Hot steamy Roseville
Maybe I will stay inside
Nah, Sunsplash is close

Let's here it for Jen @ You Know that Blog who has more Haiku creations.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Summer of '89

Summer has always served as my season for reflection. Perhaps this is because I often find myself living vicariously through my children while they swim, attend camps, play outdoor games, eat popsicles, and otherwise enjoy anything and everything that kidlets do during those steamy months.

As Mom MD and I discuss on a regular basis, kids' carefree summers from the 70's are worlds away from the carefully planned summers of today. OK, admittedly it was a different world with no bike helmets, MP3 players or Wave boards, but it was our time, my time..a simpler time full or great memories.

But I actually wanted to look back on ONE of my favorite summers as an adult.

Summer of '89 - In Chico between my 3rd and 4th year of college.

Talk about hot, steamy and still. Chico summers remind me of the Midwest without quite as many mosquitoes. College guys are notoriously cheap when it comes to modern comforts like central air conditioner. We preferred to spend our extra $6 on a twelve pack of Coors and why not, when you're buzzed who the heck cares about dripping with sweat? I mean we had an apartment pool, showers, fans, and of course the river.

Tubing down the Sacramento River back in the day felt like heaven on Earth. Sun, women, beer, sun, and more sun, beer and women! OK, so the women didn't always want to go with us, many actually went to summer school or held down jobs, but the beer and sun never turned us down. After a few hours of drifting down the Sac with beers consumed, and bodies baked, we'd jump into the backs of the trucks, laying on the tubes to keep them from flying away. No cops within miles, fewer rules and no cell phones to disturb our buzz.

If you're wondering I did hold down a part-time job working for a local pet store. I suppose you could have called me the king of the dipshits the unofficial assistant to the assistant manager. Tales, not "tails" from the pet store are reserved for a future day. Summer music rotated between Tom Petty's "Full Moon Fever" and The Cult's "Sonic Temple." All bars were within walking distance. I had a girlfriend. I had a roommate who worked for a liquor store. I had few responsibilities. It was our time, my time, a simpler time full of great memories.

Fast forward twenty years to reality, it's now my time to check the laundry. I will do about five loads today along with the grocery shopping, the soccer daddy duties, and the preparation of this evening's family supper. Maybe, though, I'll take a few extra minutes and head to the garage and reach way behind all the rubber target tubs to that Huggies size six box that contains most of my old CD's. Perhaps I can steal a few more moments with tracks from good old Summer of '89.

Tell me your best summer memory............

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Random Tuesday thoughts on Saturday: Why not, it's almost Tuesday again!

Here we go again. Time for Random Tuesday Thoughts, this time on Saturday as I'm a day late and a dollar short. Check that, I'm four days late or three days early (take your pick) and god knows how many dollars short.

Well, this Thursday R.E. Dad shaved which has become an increasingly rare event since I left the labor force almost two years ago. Heck, who am I kidding? I hardly ever shaved for the benefit of my fellow office mates either.  Just ask them.  After a few weeks, however, I just couldn't stand that tingly feeling of my whiskers swaying  like prairie grass in a meadow (felt like dozens of bugs crawling on my mug).

Funny, I used to think that when I shaved I looked years younger like I'd be carded trying to get into a rated "R" movie.  But what about now?  Not so much.  I see the beginnings of a "Turkey Neck".   I remember that my Mom used to give my Dad shit  a hard time about the loose skin below his chin.  I don't believe he liked the idea of having a big ass wattle either!

Speaking of family...Mom MD and I have a couple of ongoing debates.  I'm curious what you think.  The first one is unwrapping presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day?  The second has to do with kissing on the lips.  Nope, I'm not talking about your spouse.  I'm talking about kissing everyone else on the lips like your kids, your mom, your step dad and your grandma.

Speaking of kids....a tripletism.   The triplets have been taking swimming lessons through the city parks and recs the past couple weeks, but missed a couple days due to a pooping brat some kind of chemical imbalance at a local high school pool.  The city added a make-up day to be held on Thursday at another high school.   The night before the trips were to attend their make-up session, five-year old Alec asked me what the boys would be doing at tomorrow's swimming lesson.  I said "I don't know what do you mean?  Probably, the same thing as the girls....why?"  He said "Well, the girls will be doing make-up!"

Yeah, different type of make-up Mr. Man.   Again I don't make this stuff up.  

I wanted to go into some other stuff like what a difference between telling a new relationship with whom you will soon be cohabiting  that you'll be moving in with extra baggage vs. additional luggage.  This is a potential life altering event.  How do people learning English as a second language survive?

So much more, but gotta go for now.....hope everyone is enjoying their weekend...

Thursday, July 9, 2009


Ok, so it's R.D's daughter again! Since I haven't been able to get into my own blog lately, I wanted to post something. Now, it's time for a R.D. pop quiz!! I will ask you a few multiple choice questions about my dad, and the person that gets the most right without looking at his bio or past posts will be recognized in a future blog. (don't tell my dad,he's sleeping) Anyone who wants to may participate, . Ready? Begin!

1. How old is my dad?
A. 28
B. 34
C. 50
D. 41

2. How many kids does he have (including me)?
A. six
C. three
D. four

3. What is his favorite food?
A. blow pops
B. filet mignon
C. pizza
D. tuna casserole

4. What is his favorite drink (you'll have to guess this one!)
A. Dr. Pepper
B. Diet Coke
C. Sierra Nevada Beer
D. Hi-C

4. What does he refer to my mom as in his posts?
A. Big Mama
B. The Mum
C. Mom M.D.
D. Amy-Amy

5. What is his favorite thing about my mom?
A. she is smart
B. she is beautiful
C. she is kind
D. she is wealthy
E. she doesn't like hannah montana

**********you are not required to participate, only if you choose************
**Update 7/10/09 - Answers now on comment section and please note that I was NOT taking a nap yesterday when she hijacked my computer, I was doing bills!

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Why do married people over 40 drink?

Another one of life's little mysteries has crept up behind R.E. Dad, tapped me on the shoulder and asked quite the perplexing question..."Why do married people over 40 drink?" By "drink" I'm referring to an adult beverage which has the potential to alter one's physical or cognitive ability. I'm wondering what purpose does consumption of alcohol really have once you've found your life partner, reached middle age, and finally understand that it's easier to function the next day without a hangover.

I understand why young people consume mass quantities of intoxicating liquid be social, to meet members of the opposite sex, and to break away from their parents. I understand why senior citizens drink as be social, to meet members of the opposite sex, and to break away from their adult children. So why the heck do "hitched" middle agers tap the keg?

I asked a couple married forty-year olds this past weekend why they think their peers still drink. One said "to relax after a tough day." This totally makes sense to me...stress release. But aren't there healthier alternatives such as exercise, yoga or a deep penetrating shoulder massage? Another answered "to take you away from your worries." HMMM, this sounds like something a good book, relaxing music or just an evening of Home & Garden TV can solve.

Binge drinking and alcoholism are beyond the scope of this blog. I don't really want to go there. I have discovered that I do not need a drink in my hand to be social. In fact, I choose my words much more carefully and am less likely to put my foot in my mouth. So again, why should I drink? Why do married people over 40 drink?

Is it the kidlets...the children? Do they drive us to drink? Once upon a time I DID think that this was the case. I thought that a fantastic idea for a company that sold alcoholic beverages would be to create an ad campaign that exclaimed "We don't make the kids or raise the kids...that is your job...OUR job is to make them much more fun!"

OK, so tell me...what do YOU think? If you're married and over 40...or heck, married under 40...or even single over/under 40...give me your thoughts.............please.