Friday, May 29, 2009

I'm so not ready for this


"Mom, is $6,000 a lot for a car?".

This was the question that the boy recently asked me at dinner. Obviously I knew where this was headed. He's 15 years old, need I say more? So I smiled (because I do find it funny that he does not have his permit yet and he's already looking at cars, oh and apparently mom is going to buy him one) and then I asked him "Doing a little car shopping are we"?

So he starts telling me about this $6,000 car. The rest of our conversation went something like this:

"I don't really care about the features, as long as it looks good. I saw one for $2,000 but it was ugly"
"What kind of car was the $6,000 one?"
"A Camareo"
"You're not getting a Camereo".
"Why?"
"Several reasons, but one is they're not good in the snow."
"Oh, so can you give me your car and just buy yourself a new one?"

Sure child, the car will be paid for by then and I am going to really really miss making those car payments, so why not? *sigh*


He then goes on to say, "I saw a car for $15,000 but I thought that was a lot, that's probably what yours cost".

More child, mine cost much much more...


So I explained that first he needs to get his permit, then go to Drivers Ed, then practice... LOTS of practice, then he will get his license. THEN, we can talk about a car.

My boy, driving... I'm not ready for this. I feel like every other day I hear about a teenager in a fatal car accident, sometimes they were at fault and sometimes not, but life altering just the same. My brother died in a car accident and although it was nineteen years ago, that type of tragedy stays with you forever.

I guess all I can do is try my best to teach him how to be a safe driver and pray. Lots and lots of praying...

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Fred made it look sooo easy...


It's been so long since I've watched the Flintstones.

I can't remember who was the better bowler, Fred or Barney. My money's on Barney.

Whichever one throws the balls in the gutter repeatedly, ends most strings by knocking down either 1 pin or none at all and swears much, that guy's me.

The one who forgot to mention she, I mean he, used to bowl on a league, knows how to keep score without the help of the computer thingy and actually knows the rules of the game, that one's Doreen.

For the record my friends, there are many things I can't do. Bowling is definitely one of them...

So here's my idea (and yeah, this totally works in my favor) - we do a bowling night, using the bumpers in the lanes. You still have to bowl 3 balls (candlepin for those of you who don't know) but the goal is to now knock down the least number of pins. I could so rock this game! Who's in???

Ziggy - great job on your fundraiser tonight! The girls held a Pajama Bowling event - everyone who brought a new pair of pjs for kids in foster care bowled free... Proud of you, my girl!

And hey Doreen, credit where it's due my friend, guess I needed the a** kicking!

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Ben & Jerry, I think I love you

On a hot summer day, what cools me off?
Ice cream.
When I'm feeling sad, what cheers me up?
Ice cream.
What makes a frozen drink so yummy?
Ice cream.

I remember when I was a kid, no matter what we were doing, be it fighting with our siblings, playing ball or Chinese jump rope (remember Chinese jump rope? do kids even play that anymore? Good times) - when the ice cream truck came down the street playing that all too familiar ice cream tune - children every where united. We'd stand patiently in line, waiting for our turn, dollar in hand. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!

Now that I'm an adult, I'll admit - the ice cream tune kinda annoys me a little... but I still love ice cream! I have to agree with Sharon (yes I'm back to mentioning her in my posts) when she said "in the summer, I could eat ice cream every day". I could too, I don't - but I could. Every day.

My favorite ice cream is Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey. There are many fun flavors to choose from, but I'm a one flavor kinda woman. I love banana ice cream, love it. Banana with walnuts and chunks of chocolate. What's not to love? Every spoonful takes my taste buds on a fantastical journey.

Men come and go, fads fade away and sometimes we lose touch with friends...but ice cream is forever.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Words I will never say, I promise.


You know how there are little sayings or phrases that when, used often, drive you absolutely, certifiably, ridiculously flipping crazy? Or a word that just makes you cringe, even if you don't hear it very often? I admit, sometimes little things get to me (Tom, I said I admit it. Now stop nodding your head and saying "yeah, no sh*t!" and get back on topic here). I have kept a list in my head of things I will never say, no matter what. Today you have the opportunity to peek at the inner workings of my brain. You're welcome.

If you catch me saying any of these things you hereby have my permission to slap me upside the head. Repeatedly.

In no particular order:

Anyhoo - I hate this. It's anyhow. Who started this and thought it was funny? It's not. This should only be used in one context, and you must say it with your lower jaw locked securely in place without moving your mouth if possible. "I just can't keep good help these days, Muffy (or Bitsy or Tippy), good servants are impossible to find. Anyhoo, have you seen the new pool boy?"

Tool - No, not the Home Depot type. More like "It was such a nice day yesterday, so I decided to tool around town on my mountain bike." Could also be said with a locked jaw, see above.

Journey, used in conjunction with Amazing - I see this a lot on talk shows and celebrity interviews. And my friends, I swear the Soulsta oath that if and when I am published, I will never, I repeat NEVER say this in an interview: "Yes, it was difficult, but it was an amazing journey. Let me tell you about it." or "My writing has been an amazing journey..." or any other version of it. Blah blah blah... you say this when you have nothing else to say. Says me.

Orientated - It is ORIENTED people, not orientated. Get it straight. The word doesn't exist. And to be completely honest here, I snicker behind your back when you say it.

Hoot - I will never do anything, ever, in my life that will require me to utter the words "That was a hoot!" I mean, seriously, have you ever enjoyed yourself so much that you actually hooted? No, I didn't think so. And if you did, well, we can't be friends.

Big words I don't know the meaning of - I dated a guy who loved big words. They made him feel big too I guess. And that's ok if you know what you're talking about and use of the word comes naturally to you. But I knew some of them were wrong so, me being me, I would look them up. His favorite was catamount, as in "It was exhilarating! It was catamount to climbing Mt Everest." Catamount is a noun, an animal of the cat family. Naturally I looked it up and waited for the next opportunity. When he said it, I pounced (much like a catamount) and told that pompous ass, in a very nice way, that perhaps his word knowledge was "tantamount" to my interest in our relationship, i.e. limited. (Same guy who said orientated with some regularity).

Coolio - you know who you are, user of this word. My teenager is mortified enough when I reply to anything with the affirmative "Cool." Which, no matter what I say, she doesn't believe me when I tell her that it was me who coined the popular one word phrase. (I also gave the Cheetah Girls their name, but that's another story). But there is someone I know, perhaps in an effort to redefine the hip parent, takes it as step further. As in - Daughter - "Hey, I got a 100 on my Science quiz!" Person who remains nameless - "Coolio!" So very wrong.

What words or sayings drive you crazy? Share them with me and if you hear me saying them, well, chances are I'm just doing it to irritate you.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Look at me


So I "polarized" this photo. (don't even ask me what that means, it was a photoshop option that I stumbled upon) I have to say, I'm digging how it came out. I look kinda hot as a cartoon.


I wonder if I can use this photo as my drivers license picture, Sharon can stay -people mistake me for her all the time anyway.

Friday, May 22, 2009



There's a word that brings chills to the spine, three syllables that can bring a grown man to his knees, a word so revolting to men and women alike it's like Kryptonite to Superman.

In German it's Jugendlicher, in Dutch it's tiener, in Swedish it's tonåring and in Chinese it's 少年 (I particularly like the Chinese version, c'mon say it with me!)

Friends and enemies alike shake their heads in stomach-churning pity, whispering among themselves as we pass, shells of our former selves. "Oh," they murmur to each other pitifully as the afflicted pass, "they have teenagers."

It's true, I am one of the afflicted. My name is Sharon and I'm the parent of a teenager.

I've survived my son's teenager years, barely. And it could've been better but hey, it could've been worse! No arrests, pregnancies, addictions, broken bones, house fires or smashed up cars. And not once has he ever said "I hate you". Thank God.

It's been 10 years since he became a teenager. Oh, you think, he's beyond it now, right? Wrong! It's not quite over yet. They mature faster than ever before but once they hit 19 the maturation process ends. Growth is halted. Frozen. Might even regress a little bit. I think it defrosts around 30 and they become human again but I'm not sure yet. Yes, 22 is the new 16. I love my first born, but I don't always understand him.

Now I'm not a perfect parent, so I'll get that out of the way before anyone starts posting comments about the less-than-perfect things I've done, and let's face it, will do again.

But I must have done something right, or right-ish anyway, because as much as Ziggy drives me crazy at times (her nickname based on mall behavior, zig-zagging from store to store), lately we've had some wonderful, insightful conversations that lead me to believe all is not lost.

PS - I'm not naive, so trust me when I tell you she's not pulling one over on me either. I knew when my son was experimenting with wacky tobacky, I can spot a BS'er from a mile away.

A new friend was recently caught doing some of those things that give teenagers (oh, that word! did you just shiver?) a bad name. I won't go too into detail here, but let's say, and maybe it's just me, that 13 year olds and alcohol should not mix. They also shouldn't pull an all-nighter at a boys house, or on the street, or anyplace other than where you told your parents you would be. Again, maybe it's just me.

But the thing is - Ziggy is no longer friends with the young lady in question. And this was HER choice. Yay Ziggy!

Several of her friends have also chose to distance themselves, and I stand up and applaud them all (quietly, in the corner so as not to draw attention to myself and embarrass the child).

I am so proud of the good choices she has been making lately that I was going to go out and buy her a pony. Or a car. Well, I thought about it anyway. Instead we went to Barnes and Noble and bought several magazines plastered with the smiling faces of the adorable Jonas Bros and an ice cream cone. Which is so much better than a pony anyway.

Now if only she'd hold my hand again in public, I miss that (sigh).

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Bob the $10,000 wonder cat


No, I did not spend $10,000 on a cat. Not yet anyway...

I am not really an animal person. I don't dislike them, but I don't have that "ohhh look a puppy" gene either. The boy (my son) loves animals. My ex-husband was allergic to cats and dogs so we never had a pet. After our divorce and because of all of the changes that my son had to endure because his parents didn't love each other anymore, (guilt) I agreed to get him a pet.

I vetoed the dog idea immediately. I just felt like a dog was too much work and I knew my boy well, I'd be the one walking the dog at 5:00 AM so my decision was made. Honestly, when I agreed to a pet I was thinking maybe a turtle or something like a fish. I'm all about low maintenance. He wasn't too keen on those ideas. So we settled on a cat.

It must have been fate, because a friend of mine knew someone who was moving and could not take their cat with them. So, the cat was free. Bonus.

Bob (that's the cat's name, don't ask) was timid at first. He didn't know us, and he hid under my son's bed for 2 days. (although I'm sure he snuck out when we weren't looking for food and to do his business, the cat box was evidence of that) Bob was an outdoor cat, but I was told that when a cat is in a new place - he needs to be kept inside for a week to get used to his surroundings so that he doesn't try to find his way "home". I'm not an expert on cats, so who was I to argue?

So after the week (and to my joy, I hate cat liter boxes) we let Bob outside. He was MIA for three days. The boy was sad, and I was cursing the person who told me to keep him inside. The poor cat was probably all - those people locked me inside, I'm escaping while I have the chance! After three days though, Bob was back.

Ever since then, Bob and the boy are buddies. Wherever the boy is, Bob is close by. If the boy is doing homework (don't ask me why but he sits on the floor in his bedroom to do his homework) Bob is sitting next to him. If the boy is on his computer, Bob is either on his lap or on the bed. When the boy watches TV, Bob is on his bed with him. When the boy goes with his dad for weekends, Bob meows at me - walks back towards the boy's room - then comes back and meows at me again. Probably asking what I've done with him, he misses his boy. Happy story right? Not so much.

The town I live in has very very few apartments. It is dominated by single family homes. I was on a waiting list for a "luxury apartment complex" (translation: we'll call it luxury so we can charge you rent that is not any cheaper than a mortgage). So after a year of being on the list we were finally in. At the time I applied, I didn't have a cat. Now that I did, I found out that they charge a $50 a month "pet convenience" fee. Yeah, not so convenient for me to be paying $600 more a year. So I ask the obvious question "is this in case there are damages?". Answer: "No, if there are damages, you still have to pay for them". Well that blows. But what can I do? The boy would be devastated if I told him we couldn't bring Bob with us.

So we move into our "luxury" apartment. I decided it was time to retire my love seat and get something new. I settled on an over sized chair. It cost me $450. Within a month - Bob decided this was going to be his new scratching post. No matter what I did, he wouldn't stop. Now it's got stuffing coming out of the side. Thanks Bob.

When he's not scratching up my new chair, he's scratching up the carpet in the corner of the boy's room. I estimate it will cost about $500 to repair. As I said Bob is an outdoor cat, but he can't just meow when he wants to come in like a normal cat would...he decided that that clawing at the window screen is a better attention getter. I had to remove the screens because he clawed them so badly they were shreds. Repair estimate: $50.00. Now he meows to come in. Stupid cat.

So, the life expectancy of a cat is about 15 years. Not that I will, but if I did stay where I'm living now, I did the math. At $600 a year, that's $9,000 in total I'd have paid for the "convenience of having Bob", plus the $1,000 in damages that he's already done. In the end Bob will have cost me $10,000.

I call him Bob the wonder cat, because it's a wonder that I keep him. But the boy loves him...and I love the boy. So Bob stays.
The things we do for love.
~ Doreen

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Women get shafted... again


There's a relatively new term out there, new-ish to me anyway. Perhaps you've heard it or maybe even used it. Bromance. It's a term coined for two male friends who are heterosexual but have a non-sexual crush on each other. A newer, deeper version of the BFF. A cross between brothers and romance. With me so far?


Ok so why don't us women have a term for this non-sexual crush? Unless I've missed something of course (which, trust me, is quite possible) we don't have a fabulous phrase to describe the close-knit relationship between two women. Is it because women have always had these special bonds? Or perhaps because we don't need to define it to know it's there?
Perhaps it's because for centuries we have supported one another through thick and then, while for men, well let's face it, this is a new thing for them, right? Wrong! It's because, once again, we've been shafted! Men get a word because well, because they're men.


So where's our word? Let's see... combine chick and crush and you get chush. Nope, that's icky and sounds like a word you might use with a three year old. "Wipe your chush when you're done in there sweetie!"

Ok, let's try ladies and infatuation - ladulation? Huh, rhymes with flatulation. No thanks.

Female and ardor? Farder... right up there with ladulation. ('course guys would love these words, since they did invent the "pull my finger" trick).

So ladies, I'm here to say we need our own word! Help me right this wrong, post your suggestions today, let's come together as sisters (oooh, how about sisters and fancy - the Brits use that instead of crush. Sancy? uhhh, me thinks not.) and before you know it we'll get our female version of bromance the recognition it deserves, - a full page on wikipedia, with pictures, even.
So as I wait for the women's words of wisdom, I give you this to ponder, a poem dedicated to Doreen, my girdmire (that's girl and admire, totally not loving it).


A friend who...

Has big Chinese eyes,
(I don’t agree but you do)
Loves Ed like I do
And the Stuckeyville crew

Knows who’s “spoon-worthy”
And who should talk to the hand
Agrees I’m a princess
From a faraway land

Can only find Boston
If it’s drawn on a map
Puts up with her family
And takes lots of crap

Makes good on all bets
And gets me back good
Never throws me under the bus
(Even though she sure could!)

Flirts with my husband
And sometimes my son
Laughs ‘til we both cry
‘Cause she knows how to have fun

Brings cupcakes and cookies
To parties and dinners
Loves to play poker
Some losers, more winners

Fed me tequila
When my world fell apart
Babysat me for weeks
And helped heal my heart

Belts out “It’s Alright”
When Big Head’s in town
Teases and jokes with my daughter
Then knocks my dog down

A Red Sox connection
Big Patriots fan
Drinks by the pool
Gets a beachy sun tan

Voted for Obama
(I forgave her for this)
Laughs at my jokes
That others may miss

Knows my real family
Should be Dan in Real Life
Makes me crack up
When my head’s full of strife

Answers my texts
When late night I buzz
But most of all you “get me
Like no one else does


Thanks for being my brodore (broad and adore, rhymes with odor? uggh!)




Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Lia Sophia can kiss my ....

I confess, I love Jewelry. I'm not talking diamonds and jewels (although I wouldn't refuse them), I'm talking specifically about accessory jewelry. I can't help it, I like my bling to match whatever outfit I'm wearing and I like to have a variety of jewelry to choose from. That's right, I want it all. Now, because I'm a single mom (translation: paying all the bills on one income), I can't afford to go shopping at high end boutiques to feed my obsession. I've been to the obligatory Lia Sophia jewelry parties that friends have. I'll admit, they have some nice stuff but it's so expensive. Since I always feel like I have to buy something when I go to these parties, I'll buy one necklace for like $60 bucks. When all is said and done, I walk away feeling like a guy leaving a strip joint. Broke and unsatisfied.

I have found, thanks to Sharon (yes I am going to find a way to refer to her in every single one of my posts) the BEST place to buy jewelery ever! These ladies are the best kept secret in the world of jewelery. I'm going to share the secret with you because hey, what can I say? I'm a giver.

K&J Jewelry is owned by two very cool women (Kim & Janet). You can buy their stuff online at
http://www.kandjjewelry.com/ or you can have a party and get great discounts for yourself. It's not like a Lia Sophia party where you pay a lot of money for mediocre jewelery. (for the same $60 bucks that I paid for one necklace at Lia Sophia, I bought 3 necklaces that were MUCH nicer from K&J) To top it off, at a Lia Sophia party (after you've spent a fortune) you have to wait for whatever you bought to be delivered. That's not the way these two ladies roll. You like something, you pay for it and you take it with you. Face it, we're all about immediate gratification am I right? Okay, maybe that's just me...

So release the fashionista within and check out their website, but I highly recommend having a party because they have way more stuff at the parties than what is displayed online. Your friends will be glad you did!

I love their tag line.. "because you deserve it"

Damn straight I do sister!

~Doreen

Monday, May 18, 2009

Migraines, swine flu and tumors, oh my

Ever have one of those weeks when you think more thoughts than your brain can handle? For the first time ever, or at least as far back as I can remember, I had a migraine. Two actually. An honest-to-goodness-I'm-going-to-throw-up-it-hurts-so-bad migraine.

At first I thought it was because I just finished writing a fantastic scene (btw, I hit the 100K mark on the book, a little wahoo in in order here. Wahoo!!) that was so incredibly moving that I was bawling my eyes out. And I wrote the darn thing. And it was that good. Trust me on this. I cut and paste it and sent it to Doreen because I get a weird sort of kick in sending her emails at work that make her cry. Which, by the way, she didn't because she promptly deleted it insisting she must read the book in order instead of the pieces I keep sending her. Whatever.

Anyway, I thought that the migraine was all about that - the emotional stress I brought upon myself (I'm modest but that scene was 2 syllable good, like the southerners say guh-oood). But the second migraine hit the next day and I was pretty sure I had a tumor or at the very least, swine flu. I had no idea what brought on the migraines but with the possibility of it being a tumor I felt the need to share a little love today, to think about the things I love and how good they make me feel. And to let them know I love them. Just in case the tumor is fatal. Which I don't think it is since I haven't had a migraine in several days. But still.

So here goes - things I love and not necessarily in order:

God
My wonderful son
My terrific daugther
My loving husband
The inner circle (Doreen, Lisa, Teresa, Warren, Rob, Linda, Paul and if I forgot anyone else, you too)
Friends
Microwave popcorn, movie theatre butter
My laptop (currently monogamous with a Dell)
Gardenia scented candles
All kinds of accessories
Calvin Klein boy cut jeans, size 4 with huge holes in both knees that have been with me at some really good times and always make my ass look good (8 yr old jeans, real holes)
Dark bing cherries
Books, all kinds
Whoever invented the internet (no Dan Quayle, it was not you)
Vince Vaughn (tee hee)
Digital cameras
My random animals except when they pee or poo in the house and then not so much
Every island in the Caribbean I've ever been to
Room service
Kim Crawford savignon blanc
Polite people everywhere
The praise band at church (seriously good)
A great steak house
Babies and toddlers
The first ring my husband ever bought me (silver thumb ring inscribed with "love conquers all" in latin, c'mon say it awwww, sweet!)
Doting grandparents
My house
The cottage in PA
The Dan in Real Life family summer house
The Dan in Real Life family (seriously, where can I sign up?)
Alone time
Family time, when the kids aren't calling each other gay all night
Girl's Night In
Dishwashers
Fireplaces indoor and out

So yeah, I could keep going on but the point of this list was to make me feel better. Now that I do I'm done.

Self serving, pointless blog? Maybe. Read that little thing over to the right, this site is not about you, it's about us remember??? Sheesh.
~Sharon

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Fortress of Solitude

If you've ever heard of Superman, then you probably know about his Fortress of Solitude. No idea what I'm talking about? I'll explain. The Fortress of Solitude (FOS) is this really cool pad that Superman created for when he needed a little "me" time. I'm sure that being a superhero, he needed to decompress from time to time. It must be exhausting kicking-ass 24/7 right? Or maybe it was just his escape from Lois Lane when she was being a nag (she always seemed kinda bitchy to me), or when the pressures of the Daily Planet were too much, or maybe just to get away from Jimmy Olsen (who I think was secretly in love with Clark Kent). Or it could have been to contimplate being surrounded by morons who couldn't tell that Clark Kent and Superman were the same person. I mean seriously people, a pair of glasses isn't a very sophisticated disguise - get a clue.

OK, I'm going off topic...this isn't about Superman, it's about his FOS. Which brings me to my point. I need one, badly. I'll admit I'm not crazy about his choice of location, a cold and dark place covered with ice and snow. The whole time I'd be thinking "it's so freaking cold, I need to get out of here". Maybe his cape was super-insulated? My FOS would have to be some place warm, an island in the Caribbean perhaps? Of course, I'd style mine up a little (I know that "less is more", but c'mon Superman you couldn't spring for a sofa?). I'd add a comfy reading chair, a nice lamp, some soothing art work, lots of candles. You get the picture right?

I realize I'm no superhero. I can't stop a speeding bullet. I can't even prevent myself from getting a paper cut, but does that make me any less deserving?

Lately I feel like my life is so hectic. The whole single mom thing can be exhausting at times. Doing all the shopping, the laundry, the cooking, the clean-up, helping with homework, arguing with the boy because he'd rather play video games then clean up his room. Has anyone figured out the cure for 15-year-old-laziness? If so, please share.

Work is insane and recently my boss has decided to stalk me. He lives in Wisconsin, so I am constantly bombarded with emails and phone calls every time he has a thought. My "to do" list is like 8 pages long and just keeps growing. Meanwhile, I have 3 books that I've been wanting to read, but lately (and I swear it's an old age thing) I can't read more than one chapter before I start falling asleep. So at this rate, I'll be finishing book one of three sometime in the year 2011. I'm always making a cake or cookies for someone and presently my house looks like a bomb went off in my living room.

I know what you're thinking. Stop your whining, right? Now I'm not that self absorbed, I do realize there are people who are far busier than I am and who lead an even more hectic life than I do. For example, I don't know how Sharon has the energy to get up in the morning. That chick goes non-stop. On top of being a mother, a wife, a social planner, a chauffeur, a charity fund-raiser, a gourmet cook, and a business partner she's writing a novel (not to mention the few short stories she's written in between). Honestly, I think she's an alien.

Yeah, I get that everyone is busy. But this isn't about them, it's about me. So back off, you're just adding to my stress. :)

I think we all need a Fortress of Solitude. So I'm on a quest to find mine. I know I'll find it and no, I will not tell you where it is. Superman didn't share his secret location and neither will I. Well, that isn't totally accurate. He did bring Lois Lane back to his FOS in hopes of getting lucky (although I'm not sure he thought that plan through, doesn't it shrink in the cold?). Truth be told, Sharon will probably figure it out. She can usually read my mind, which further proves my alien theory.
~Doreen

Friday, May 15, 2009

Why my prescriptions cost $500.00


My daughter's pediatrician sends prescriptions over electronically now. Isn't that a time saver??? Suuuureee it is.

In the old days (2008) I'd take the 4x4 piece of paper the prescription is written on and bring it with me to the pharmacy (oh and a bonus, let's save a tree!).


So no dropping off, standing around CVS trying to kill 15 minutes until your name is called, during which time I tend to purchase $160.00 worth of make up I'll never use, a People magazine I won't read, several really funny Hallmark cards that I'll tuck away somewhere to be sent later and then promptly forget about and candy that I will eat but shouldn't. So I don't get out of there for less than oh, two hundred bucks, easy.


The point is, this new electronic communication method is supposed to save me money. I mean time. But in my case money. Right? Wrong!!!!


Join me on a recent trip to the doctors. She's sick, prescription necessary, blah, blah, blah, click, click, click and Mrs. Mommy the prescription will be available as soon as you get there! (says perky cute doctor who is closer to my daughter's age than mine).


I leave the doctors, 20 minutes home to deposit said sick child with loving husband, how was your day, what's wrong with her, blah blah, an hour or so at home fussing about and by the time I get to CVS a minimum of 2 hours have passed since the prescription has supposedly traveled through space and time. Be right back honey!!!


So I bypass the beauty products, the pseudo-Yankee candles, the swedish fish (ok, I don't bypass the fish) and the delightful greeting cards (someday I'd like to write for Hallmark, they are pretty funny), march right up to the pharmacy where I'm promptly told, nooooo, we don't have a prescription here by that name. May not have transmitted properly. We'll call your doctor though, Mrs. Mommy. Give us a few hours, okey dokey? Ugh!


Off I go, not back home, though, oh no. More likely off to run other errands, now I'm hungry so I stop at, where else, McDonalds, and then hmmm... Target is right there, and though I don't need anything it's closer to stop here than drive all the way back home... I'll just look to kill time. Cute scarf, oh I needed new work out pants, loooove the new stuff Isaac Mizrahni is putting out for spring, I did need some candles and oh, the cards here are pretty funny too.


The NH state liquor store is right there? Well, I didn't bring my list but I bet we're low on house red at home (in our case, Davinci chianti) and oh, there's a sale on Kim Crawford savignon blanc and just as I'm getting in line with my case (yes, I said case) of wine... oh, look. A sale. On every frickin' flavor of rum you can imagine. Which flows like water at my house when Lisa and Doreen are over (oh puh-lease, don't comment and deny, either one of you!).


I return to CVS four hours later. I've now spent $480.00, eaten 3,500 delicious McDonald's calories and have seriously contributed to the alcohol intake of my good friends.


Ok so what's my point? Actually there isn't one today.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Facebook, oh Facebook

Dear Facebook,

We have to talk. You're not the same as you were when we first met. You've changed.

In the beginning I will admit I was a bit reluctant, but my friends insisted I give you a chance and so I did. At first we had so much fun didn't we? We'd spend hours together. You wanted to know everything about me, how old I was, where I lived, what I did for work, where I went to high school, who my other friends were...you even encouraged me to share my pictures with you. The more time I spent with you, the more I got to know you and the more I liked you. You even helped me reconnect with old friends, and I thought that I was so lucky to have you.

But lately, you've changed. At first the changes were subtle. I don't know why, but you changed your whole look. I didn't say anything because hey, sometimes we all feel the need for a little make-over from time to time. Who am I to judge? But now, you're moving things around without asking me and frankly I just think that's rude. You don't do the same things you used to do for me anymore. What brought this on? Why do you have to make it so difficult for me to see my friend's status updates all at once? I used to love that about you and with no regard to my opinion you just stopped showing them to me. What have I done to deserve this?

I know you have insecurity issues, but how many times do I have to tell you that I am not leaving you for Twitter? I have no profile there. You can check, although I'm sure you already have. But even if I were to have a profile there, we had no commitments. This was supposed to be casual fun remember? Yes I know you think I have a commitment phobia, but this isn't about me, it's about you - so let's try to stay focused. And seriously FB, the stalking emails have got to stop. At first I looked forward to your notification emails, but 20-30 a day? It's really getting out of control. It's a distraction for me at work, I do have a job you know.

I have to be honest with you, my friends have noticed the change in you as well. They are starting to resent you too. I hear them talk and it hurts.

I'm not saying I want to break-up, but I miss the way things used to be. All I'm asking is that you stop worrying about what Twitter is doing, stop being so insecure (it's really kind of a turn-off) and stop changing. Just be you.

~ Doreen

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Hello, my name is Doreen and I'm a blogger

Why do I blog? The honest answer is because my friend asked me to. I never considered myself a blogger, you could say I was in blogger denial. I didn't think I had anything interesting to say, and I probably don't...but blogging I've found, is kind of therapeutic. I can rant and rave, reflect or just comment on random things that probably mean nothing to anyone else (except Sharon of course, we do after all share the same brain). Yes, I have a non-sexual crush on my friend - don't read more into it than there is. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it's just not how I roll.

So, let me tell you my immediate goals.

#1 It is not to write a book. Unlike Sharon I do not posses the skills to pull something like that off...but if I were to write a book it would be about the joys of dating in your 40's. Oh, the stories I could tell...the "Minute Man", the "Emotionally Challenged Narcissist", the "Sociopath", the "Cryer" (the list goes on and on) - but who wants to read something on that topic? We've all got stories, am I right people?

So, no book for me... my first goal is to quit smoking. It's time. I'd like to say it's because it's a nasty habit or bad for my health (of course those reasons don't hurt the cause), it's really the social limitations that come with being a smoker. When I started smoking, (back when a pack of butts only cost $1.50), it was socially acceptable - people smoked, it was an ice-breaker "hey got a smoke?", "do you have a light?"..now, I stand off to the side...away from people...a social outcast. Being a smoker my friends is a lonely existence. Time to quit.

#2 Be a better person. It's not like I kick dogs or frighten small children or anything...but I think that I could be a little more considerate, a little less judgemental, do a little more for those less fortunate, be more patient with people. You get the idea.

#3 Lose weight. No, I'm not going to tell you what I weigh. Did you really think that was going to happen? Really? The truth is that I'll never wear a bikini. I'm ok with that. I just want to get to a weight that I am happy with. I've actually made some progress here, I've lost 30 lbs since January, so yay me!

So there you have it, I'm no longer in blogger denial, thanks to my good friend Sharon. Of course, if I start receiving hate-blogger-emails, I will blame her. Just like I blame her for the Red Sox loss on Saturday...but that's another story.


~ Doreen

Earl, call the exterminator, I just found another newbie under the sink (Sharon)

Why another blog site for random thoughts on nothingness? Well, why not?

If you're here then you probably know who we are (when I say we, I mean me and Doreen, not speaking about myself plural-ized) (and I don't care if plural-ized is really a word so please don't look it up and get back to me, just go with it). Also I wasn't going to do an introduction because I look horrible in black and white.

But since I'm here anyway, might as well... so here goes - yes, we are newbies, much as I dislike that word.

Inexperienced, virginal, first-timer. All appropriate, as it applies to blogging. However I prefer ingenue. Though can you be, at our age? When I think of ingenues, right or wrong, I think young innocent bombshells. Think Marilyn Monroe, the early years aka Norma Jean.

But ingenue, (say it with me, aahn-jhah-new) it does sound a bit more intriguing than newbie, right? I mean, come on, newbie rhymes with doobie. Also with boobie. See what I'm saying?

We're at the halfway point of my blog today and I still haven't told you about me. But you're still fascinated right? Ok, let's share.

My immediate goals are 1) finishing the novel I started last summer and 2) find an agent I love who loves me back most of the time. Oh also 3) look killer in a bikini this summer, like gee-Mrs. Kendrew-can-I-bring-you-a-lemonade-or-maybe-just-stare-at-you-for-a-bit killer.

I'm getting there with #1 - my goal is to have it in relatively decent shape before I check out of this incredibly lovely old building in Boston I'm holed up in this week for that very purpose. Away from the kids, husband, job, cell phone (not really), housework, employees, clients, dry cleaners, emails (also not really)landscaper, gynocologist, friends, family, people I like, people I don't like and people I don't really know. You get the idea.

#2 I am still researching and have only queried 2 agents so far. Lauren Abramo, to you I say your loss, sister. Your rejection was the first and it didn't even hurt. Except a little bit.

#3 Ummm, yeah. Not so much.

So as I listen to the sounds from below and outside my door - the traffic, the foreign tourists calling out to each other (why do they all talk so loud anyway?), the occasional bird at my window and the delightful sounds from down the hall knock, knock, knock, "Housekeeping!" (could be worse, that knocking could be a headboard on the other side of my wall, right?) - I took a break to share some of me with you. Cross your fingers for me. Friday's going to come sooner than I expect.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Is Tom Brady Pitching? (Doreen)

Sharon and I have been friends for about 8 years now. Our betting tradition began about 7 years ago when we were out at a a bar with a few girls. It started out very innocently, a good joke gone bad kinda thing. She never thought I'd actually take the bet. Ten bucks if I would go up to this hot guy that we noticed across the bar and ask him to spin around so my friends could see if the back looked as good as the front. This was my challenge.

Fueled by liquid courage (quite a bit of alcohol) I headed straight for Eye-Candy-Man. I did modify the "so my friends could see" to "my friend, the blond over there could see"... after all, I wasn't going to jump on board the humiliation train alone. So he laughs, does his spin...the girls clapped, I thank him, and head back to the group. Of course Eye-Candy-Man came over shortly after, but unfortunately his looks were really all he had going for him. We escaped about 10 minutes later after Sharon gave him a fake phone number. Don't judge, he was creepy and she didn't want to be mean. Giving a guy a wrong phone number saves him the shame of rejection in front of her friends or his. See how selfless we are?

So that's where it all started, in a bar in Portsmouth. Since then, we've set some rules...nothing illegal, nothing that hurts or humiliates another person (the goal is to humiliate ourselves for the other person's amusement), and we can't tell anyone at the time that "my friend bet me that I wouldn't do this".

While at a concert at the House of Blues, Sharon's bet was to walk up to a random couple and stand right in the middle of them, snap a photo of the three of them, then walk away. I was sure that she wasn't going to do it ... but on the way out, she came through. We of course found this hysterical. Tom and Warren thought we were retards.

This now brings us to the title of this post. I knew it was my turn next, and I knew after the "random-couple-photo op", she would show no mercy and it wasn't going to be pretty. I was right. On Saturday afternoon Sharon and I went to the Red Sox game. While we were walking to our seats, she laid it on me. I had to turn to the person sitting next to me and ask if Tom Brady was pitching. It was a good one, I'll give her that. Bitch. :)

So we take our seats, I was hoping that the person next to me was going to be a girl - maybe a "pink hat" (how men refer to women who really know nothing about sports, well actually they give that status to all women until proven otherwise). No such luck, it was a guy. A cute guy. A Vascular Surgeon guy. So I bided my time, waiting for the right opportunity and made idle chit chat (this is how I found out he was a surgeon). We talked about the Sox. We talked about why Youkilis wasn't playing, and he was clearly impressed by my knowledge of the game...I was cleared of the pink hat status.

Around the 5th inning I went in for the kill and asked "Is Tom Brady pitching?". There it was, the look. The "how embarrassing for you to ask such a stupid question" look. He just shook his head and smiled at me. Then he said in a tone that you talk to a 4 year old with "Tom Brady is the quarterback for the Patriots". I tried to recover by saying "Oh, I know but I thought Tampa Bay had a pitcher named Tom Brady". There was no recovering, he just shook his head and laughed. He then turned to his girlfriend, or mistress, or whoever she was and told her what I just said. Side note: during the game, this chick couldn't keep her hands off this guy and at one point she was giving him an ear massage. Now I have to ask, have any of you ever given or received an ear massage? Oh wait, let me rephrase...an ear massage at a sporting event? Seriously?

To my right, Sharon was laughing so hard I thought she was going to cry. With my pink hat status now confirmed by Mr. Vascular Surgeon I figured I'd just go with it, so when Tampa Bay changed pitchers I leaned over to him and said "Oh look, it's Tom Brady". Apparently only Sharon and I found this hilarious, he of course thought I was serious and said "No, that's not Tom Brady".

It's okay Mr. Vascular Surgeon guy, just enjoy the ear massage...we amuse ourselves and that's really all that matters.