Am I Really Having a “Calgon Take Me Away But First Let Me Punch Someone in the Face” Day?

You know that scene from Mary Poppins when Mary, Bert, and the kids jump into one of Bert’s sidewalk drawings? They magically arrive in a colorful world (beautifully clad I might add) where they ride around on carousel horses, sing with animated pigs, and get served sarsaparillas by bumbling penguins.  The day is truly Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Yesterday was not that day.

I’m sure we can all agree that everyone one has experienced that crappy day.

Let me break mine down for you via a tally.

It started off on the downward slope when I realized I had not set my alarm and that I was going to be late (again) for getting my butt ready and my child to school.

CRAPPY DAY          1                                  ME                              0

Sears called to say they would be delivery our shiny new refrigerator and range hood by 8:20 a.m.  I had to drop off our daughter, so my husband said he would stay home and receive our goods.

CRAPPPY DAY        1                                  ME                  1

Upon returning home, I called my husband to see if he would like a coffee (I am a nice person). He informed me that the refrigerator was too large for the space (even though we gave exact measurements to the sales person), and they would not install the fridge or the hood. This left us with large holes throughout our kitchen and a mongoloid ice box.

CRAPPY DAY          2                                  ME                  1

Walking through the door, I took in the sight of the shitstorm that was once my kitchen: papers askew, food spoiling on counters, old fridge downstairs in the basement, useless mongoloid fridge in the middle of the room, dirty dishes, and no microwave.

CRAPPY DAY          3                                  ME                  1

It was at this point I began to cry a bit (I had not ingested any coffee yet) and commence the clean up process.  At the sink I did what any sane, mature adult would do – I began to throw things and say words that began with the letters, F, S, GD, MF, and some words that were probably a cross between Spanish and a Slavic language (of which I know neither). During this tirade, I broke the faucet (apparently I have super human strength).

CRAPPY DAY          4                      ME      0 (deduction of points for stupidity)

The broken faucet, spewing water, caused my husband to react by saying, “Oh dear, what a shame you broke that.”…..If this was a Disney Cruise Line commercial.  What actually fell from his mouth were a bunch of colorful phrases with words beginning with F, S, GD, MF, along with my name as he proceeded to belly crawl under the sink to shut off the water.

CRAPPY DAY          5                      ME      -1 (deduction, no explanation needed)

This caused more TV Novella crying on my part, while standing in the middle of the chaos in dirty gym clothes (which I had yet to visit) and a stained sweatshirt that was once my brother’s.

After more Tammy Faye Baker crying, we decided to re-group after some burritos.  We felt better with full bellies. The plumber had come by the fixed our faucet issue. My husband would go to Sears and amend the issue and then pick up a new Microwave.

CRAPPY DAY          5                      ME      0

My husband returned triumphantly with a new microwave, plugged it in…..and……wait for it….it did not work.

CRAPPY DAY          6                      ME      0

He called the microwave hot line number and they promptly advised him to bring the item to a repair shop.

CRAPPY DAY          7                      ME      0

He took more time out of his day and brought the sorry excuse for a food heating device back to the store.

CRAPPY DAY          8                      ME      0

Other events occurred, including me spilling red wine on myself and other permanently stained items, my husband forcing himself into a sugar coma with a sack of sour Skittles, and my daughter staging a coo due to the lack of peanut butter granola bars in the house.

GRAND TOTAL

CRAPPY DAY          247                  ME      -12

The day was just that, a crappy day. And even though I would have risked jail time to strangle somebody, we all survived. We are lucky to have these ridiculous problems. When I look around and see people suffering, children suffering, I want to Tammy Faye Baker cry all over again. It sucks for some really great people out there. So yes, while the day was a pain, I think I’m lucky.

There will be more crappy day ahead, but if I can remind myself that hey, this will pass, and isn’t this a better problem to have versus something else – then I’ll be able to sail through the day with that much more ease.

That and a case of wine. Seriously, any type, I’m not that picky.

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Am I Really Wondering Why Kelly Ripa Looks Like a Bobble Head Doll?

In the words of Mary J. Blige, “Don’t need no hateration,” and I am not going to give Ms. Ripa any. She seems like a lovely person. I’d like to take her to lunch. But damn, that noggin. And why can’t I get that Fanta jingle out of my head every time I look at her?

This rant is not about her effervescence, but rather the size of women’s heads and other body parts in Hollywood/TV/Movies.  In the case of Ms. Ripa, it’s like an orange on a toothpick.* You know what they say, the camera adds ten pounds. Uh, yeah, apparently on their hair.

Now we all know that these Hollywood broads are skinny, it goes with the territory. I am not here to bash on them. It’s their livelihood and in the words of my mother, “It is what it is.” However, if I were to see one of these ladies on the street I would: a) offer them a sandwich, b) call a 1-800 number to sponsor them with food and running water, and c) show them the food pyramid.

It just seems as though they are disproportioned. Take Angelina Jolie for instance. Super skinny.  Even when she was pregnant her arms looked like twigs in the middle of winter. But she has those gi-normous lips. How?  Kelly Ripa, tiny body. Big head. Kiera Knightly, a lithe girl.  Big feet (well actually I have no idea, just a guess).

Here is what I think is happening.  Even though a person loses a crap ton of weight, some of it hangs around somewhere. That person still has the same number of fat cells. These cells probably get agitated because there is no room for them in their current location, so they set off to find a new home – hence the big lips, big head, and large index fingers. Now I am not a scientist, or a doctor, or even a hospital orderly, but I read WebMD.  Therefore it must be so.

As I write this from the comfort of my home, eating an almond butter and jelly sandwich (so good!), I look pretty proportioned. And guess what, you people probably do too.

So the next time you beat yourself up for having dessert, or not losing those last five pounds for your high school reunion, just remember: those five pounds might end up on your face, maybe even your nose.

Be proud of your even-keeled body. You can always buy lip plumper if you want the Jolie look.

* I would like to thank Mike Myers for this line. It is from the movie “So I Married an Axe Murderer.” Funny stuff, check it out!

Am I Really Practicing my Academy Awards Acceptance Speech in my Dirty Slippers?

I would like to thank the Academy, my parents, and my husband. I would like to thank Cabernet Sauvignon for being there…always.  I would like to thank the Girl Scouts of America for producing the Thin Mint Cookie. I would like to thank my daughter for throwing away her granola bar wrapper instead of sticking it under the couch, like she usually does. I would like to thank my yoga pants for not walking out on me because I never actually take yoga. I would like to thank…….

Many of you tuned in this past weekend to watch the 84th Academy Awards. Many of you could have given a sh*t. I am in the first category.

I loooooooove awards shows. I like the hoopla, the dumb interview questions when clearly the anchor did not see the movie, the ridiculously scripted banter between award givers, the slightly awkward musical numbers, and of course, the star watching.  It is all just so exciting to me. I feel as though I am right in the middle of it.

But of course, I am not. I am here, at home, eating a lukewarm calzone and thinking, “When the hell did that movie come out? Did anyone go and see that thing? And why is Angelina standing like that?”

Although, it does make me wonder:

Why am I practicing a speech when clearly I have not been nominated for an Oscar (at least not yet!)?  Somehow, I don’t think I am alone here.

People do not get thanked for everyday life events. Kids don’t walk up to parents and say, “Sorry you puked during delivery, but thanks for being a trooper and bringing me into this world. Oh, and P.S. – I hate bananas, but thanks for trying.” I have never heard a husband say, “Hey, thanks for nagging me to put the dishes into the dishwasher instead of just around it. It really does make more sense.” Women never say, “Thanks for repeatedly trying to get into my pants. If it weren’t for you, I’d forget I have a vagina.”

Bosses don’t thank employees for showing up to work. No one is applauding when you get out of bed, exhausted, and make breakfast for an over-exuberant child.  Confetti never rains down on me at the grocery store when I remember to use my coupons and save $14.96.  When a person finishes their “To Do” list, a rainbow doesn’t magically appear with singing munchkins as a reward.  And when you sort and properly bundle recycle items, the garbage dudes never break out into a jazz routine just to say thanks.

So why do these Hollywood people get all the praise? Why don’t we have any everyday person awards ceremony? We’re here, everyday, making it happen; whether we like it or not.

One reason: lack of reality. These wonderful movie makers provide us everyday folk with entertainment.  They take us away, far, far away from our everyday lives. They transport us to another land, another time, another reality.  Movies are magic. They make us laugh, they make us angry, and they make us wipe our noses on our sleeves when we forget tissues while watching Marley and Me.

During depressing times, movies help distraught people deal with the harsh pain of poverty, loss, and feelings of being alone.  Deployed soldiers watch them. Kids watch them. People who don’t even like movies watch them. They help people forget. They help people remember.  And you know what? We (and by “we” I mean the Academy) want to thank the movie makers for this gift.

So good for you film people of the world! Be proud, polish off your golden little man and give yourself a pat on the back.

The rest of us will be awaiting our award for unclogging the sink.