A True Gem

A thousand thanks to my husband for proposing to me in private. This if for all you guys out there who wonder if it's a good idea to propose to your gal in front of thousands of people:

Eco-Unfriendly

I'm generally a big fan of The Disney Channel on cable. Turn it on, plunk the kids down, and get a half hour of work done. The morning shows don't even have commercials on during them. But they really kill you with the few minutes of airtime after the show is over. As soon as "Tigger and Pooh" ends, a bevy of short, public service type ads roll out in front of your child's vacant eyes. Remember to exercise. Being nice is cool. Apples are the new ice cream. You get my drift. Apparently they are running a new blurb about being eco-friendly. I only know because I'm one of the victims of the ad.

Out of nowhere, my four year old Pixie has started following me around the apartment turning off light switches. "We need to save electricity, mom," she says. "No we don't," I respond.

Imagine I'm going to the kitchen to make her a sandwich. She follows me, turning off the lights behind me, and when I get to the kitchen she flicks on the switch so I can see the peanut butter deep in the cabinet. I reach for the peanut butter. Off goes the light.

"Are you done now," she asks?
"I haven't even gotten the bread yet."
"You need to hurry and finish. We need to save electricity."
"Honey, it's fine if I have the lights on in the kitchen. Please turn them back on."
"But we have to turn out the light to save the electricity!"
"No. We don't."
"But mo-om!"

And around and around we go. Living with her is like living in that dream where you can only see 10 feet in any direction and the rest is obscured in darkness. She truly believes that electricity is on the same level as the endangered panda or perms. How could I treat it so wastefully? Heaven help me if she ever learns about recycling.

She's in bed asleep now so I have the entire front of the house lit up like a Viking pyre. I can't help but revel in the hum of precious electricity as it comes to it's pointless doom in my light bulbs. Just goes to show, parents should spend more time passing down their vices and less time with the television on. I should have known better.

Westurn!

My sister-in-law Mindy moved from Baltimore to po'dunk Wyoming this week. After years of living on the east coast, it's no small adjustment. Today Mindy sent the following email describing one of her first experiences in town:

"So this drunk cowboy guy came up to me in Wal Mart. He was missing a front tooth, wearing full cowboy garb, a crumpled up leathery face the works. And wanted to tell me what a great deal he got on DVDs. He started pulling them out of his bag. He pulled out Dances with Wolves and said "WESTURN!" then he pulled out 3:10 to Yuma and said "WESTURN!" and then he pulled out one more movie and said "WESTURN!" and I looked down and it was Brokeback Mountain. I started to tell him that he probably wouldn't like that one, but then I decided to let him discover that for himself."

Thanks, Mindy. I needed something to post about today.

How to Clean a Carpet

Yet more of my fabulous follies as an apartment manger. This job tempts me to hate mankind.

We have a family who moved in three years ago. They seemed nice, normal and promised to provide little or no hassle to me. But last year the wife knocked on my door.

"Hollywood, is there anything you could do for us? Our carpet is so dirty. Could we have a new one?"

I went down to their apartment and saw that the beige carpet we had installed only two years before was literally black throughout the entire apartment. I made a phone call. My management company was feeling generous so they put in a new carpet at no cost to the tenant. Yeah, they're just nice like that sometimes.

Last month there was another knock on my door. It was the wife.

"Do you think you could put a new carpet down in our apartment? It's black again. I was thinking you guys could put in a really dark carpet so you couldn't see the dirt."

"I don't think we are going to be able to do that. Have you tried cleaning it?"

"Yes. I clean it, but it always gets dirty again. Your carpet is so nice and clean..."

"I vacuum almost every day and shampoo it every few months."

"..."

"Would you like the phone number of a carpet cleaner?" I offered.

"I guess. Would the apartment company pay for cleaning?"

"No."

One week later she gave notice that they were moving out. On to newer, whiter carpet I suppose. I'm not the cleanest gal on the block, but I don't think these people even owned a vacuum. Even pigs don't live in their own filth. I wonder if she really weighed the options and decided that packing up and moving was more palatable than actually keeping her carpet clean. Gross. Really gross.

Rant over. For now.

The Christmas Diet

With Thanksgiving stuffed tidily down my gullet and the globs of candied yams scrapped off the kitchen floor, my husband Spike and I grimly face the December Diet. The one where you smile and say 'thank you' when neighbors drop of cookies but self-righteously dump them in the trash the minute you wave them off the doorstep. The diet where you repeat in your mind day and night that Santa is a fat fraud who would rather you end up with type II Diabetes and die in your sleep next month so he doesn't have to whip up yet another Christmas present for you. The diet where the Christmas tree lights shine a little dimmer because your eyes are misted over with the dull ache of hunger.

Its in times like these when I turn to the cooking channel. I am a vicarious eater when I have to be. Tonight, I was pacing the living room, agonizing over our bare cupboards (my enterprising husband dropped all our ice cream, sweets and sugar goodies off at a neighbors home the night we started our Christmas fast). What did I want? What did I really want? Food. Plain and simple. And the food network delivers. If I turn up the volume just enough and get cozy up to our 47" t.v., it's almost like they are serving me. I silently salivate through the preparation of a delicate tiramasu, watching to make sure they dust just enough coco powder on top to fit my liking. Then the dish is presented and I drop my mouth open just in the slightest to receive a sliver of the t.v. delight. I can taste it. And it's everything I hoped it would be. Spike moans in agony and begs me to change the channel. He hasn't learned to feed off of a satelite signal. I ignore him and prepare for another bite of the seductive dessert. Spike leaves the room. Good. Now there's more for me.

Sneaking in a post...

So I haven't posted in months and have received many emails wondering if I'm dead. I didn't respond and was tempted to let it play out disappear to Costa Rica never to be heard from again but alas, here I am, alive and well in Los Angeles.

Here's the summary of what you've missed. In June I was feeling spunky and changed my life-long left hair part to the other side. Things got a little funky after that and I even switched from my Republican allegiance to Democrat. But I was unable to control the whirlwind of change and the day before the November 4th election, my part and my party allegiance reverted to old ways.

In August I read all the Twilight books, while silently hating myself. Apparently I'm a Jacob girl.

In August, I read all the somber, intelligent books I could handle (Kite Runner, anyone) to atone for my flippant reading of August. It was overcompensation and many nights I went to be sobbing at the terrifyingly awful things I was reading about. But it did get the taste of teenage romance novels out of my mouth.

In October, I called in sick and played computer games for about 2 weeks straight. I developed a nasty case of carpal tunnel. I kicked the quickly developing habit but my wrist still aches day and night. Halloween (my favorite day of the year) was a blast with Pixie being a princess (yawn) and Cher being a pint-sized flapper.

In November I started sewing again after a three month long break. I'm happier that way. And my ad people were starting to email me reminding me that they would pull my ads if I didn't post so here, for sheerly mercenary reasons, I give you a post. I have my pride and seeing a blog writhe in malnutrition does make me feel a bit guilty.

So yes, after a long mental health break, I'm back. All three of you who are still reading my blog can get together and share a bowl of ice cream in celebration. I'm going to comit to blogging at least five days a week for the next month to help myself get back into the habit so feel free to start checking daily again. I'll be here.

Million Page Mission: Now Accepting Applications

My one year old Cher has recently become obsessed with books. She has her favorites that she plops in my lap anytime I'm sitting down and takes the whole process quite seriously. Most of her books are only about 10 pages long and she makes me read them over and over. But she's quite emotional about the whole ordeal. Every time I turn a page she gets upset, seeming to know that a page turn signifies the approaching last page. As I get closer to the end, she gets more hysterical and by the time I reach the last page, she's a wailing, sobbing fit and demands I go back to the beginning. So we read a lot of books, and not many last pages.

It seemed fitting that Cher accompany me to an event last week sponsored by Lunchables and First Book. Lunchables has organized a Million Page Mission. Basically, for everyone who comits to read at least 100 pages to their child during the back-to-school season, Lunchables will donate $1 to First Book, an inspired non-profit organization that gives books to children who have none. Television actress Lori Loughlin was at the event doing a book reading to a group of school children and I got to talk with her about the Million Page Mission before the event. She's the one who played Jesse's girlfriend in Full House and is currently in the new 90210 series. Lori has children at home as well and I really enjoyed talking to her about our families and the event. I've also dedicated to work on my tan after seeing her perfectly bronzed skin. She's very sweet and the kind of person who you'd love to spend a day at the beach with.



But back to the event - I easily read 100 pages a day to Cher, but her books only have about 5 words per page so it's not too hard. I think it's a great mission, however, and was really surprised by some of the facts I learned. For example, recent studies find that only one in 300 children living in low-income areas has access to an age appropriate book. First Book is the organization dedicated to providing free books to these children. The representative from First Book who I spoke to told me about the impact that owning a book can have on these children. She said that after giving a child just three books, it is easy to measure the change in their performance at school.

I always was surrounded by books as a child and spent most of my young adulthood hidden inside a book. It's easy to take that for granted. At the event, I heard about children in Head Start pre-school programs and how in some neighborhoods, when the teachers as the child to bring in a book from home, the most common book the children bring back is a phone book - the only book in the home.

It literally takes 3 seconds to pledge to the Million Dollar Mission. For your pledge to read to your children, Lunchables will donate to help First Book get books to children. This is only going on through October 31st, so please take a moment and make your pledge. Then make sure to actually read to your kids! Those are always my favorite moments in the day.

Man, I so pale.

This is a post about

nothing, really. I just can't stand to see that picture pop up as the first item on the blog for even one more minute. So I am posting about pretty much nothing. 

Don't believe me? Well, just keep reading. There, now aren't you glad you read a post about nothing? Here's a nice picture to get the taste of the other one out of your mouth:

Transvestite Blondes Have More Fun

My dear old dad works out of New York City and was thoughtful enough to snap this photo on the subway a few days ago of a fellow passenger. The thing that cracks me up the most is that with all the questionable fashion choices that this outfit entails, he (she) had to throw in socks-with-sandals. The uber-mini skirt I can understand, but seriously, what was he thinking with the socks? My father commented to me on the phone today about how grateful he was for the dim lights on the subway car so the contents of the mini skirt could remain a discreet mystery.

Three cheers for New York City!

War May Be Hell, but Hollywood Is Even Worse

Posted by Spike (without Hollywood's permission)

Here is a story from the New York Times that doesn't actually have anything to do with the Hollywood, but I thought the headline was funny. (The story is about Tropic Thunder.)

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/13/movies/13trop.html?bl&ex=1218772800&en=bf042c4d96f94d9e&ei=5087%0A

Also, it is almost time to do another "Best of Youtube" post, so post comments with links to the funniest videos. The winner (picked by me) gets glory.

Flaky Friends Coupon Code and Giveaway

Get ready for definitely my most effusive review yet. Head on over to MamasLike for the latest giveaway as well as a really good COUPON CODE to use if you want at 20% discount to my Flaky Friends shop. I have to admit, the coupon code is a little too generous and I'm going to be doing a lot of slave labor sewing this week, but it's a good chance to nab that Flaky Friend that you've been pining over.

Check it out!

Adventures in Prototyping

I've been working with a factory in China for the past few weeks trying to get some of my animals ready for mass production. In first stage, the factory looks at my sample piece, then tries to reproduce it as a prototype. After I okay the prototype, mass production of the animals can begin.

You'd think this would be a relatively simple task. After all, I've already made the animals and the factory simply needs to look at my pictures and do the exact same thing. Let's take Lester the Giraffe for example. He's a fine young mammal, endowed with many handsome characteristics. I sent this photograph to the factory to help them manufacture a prototype:


A few days later, I got back this picture of their first attempt:


Not bad, but I had a few concerns, one of which was the size of the eyes was too large. I asked them to make the eyes about half the size that they were in their prototpye. So they got to work and today I received their second attempt:



Okay. So obviously we're dealing with some communication issues here.

Two more Flaky Friends Giveaways

The first is hosted by the lovely Mel of Pink Crab Creations for a $25 credit to the Flaky Friends store. Go here to enter.

And then my darling Lindsay is hosting another $25 shop credit giveaway here. I swear, I've given away more of these guys then I sell. But really it's more fun that way. Good luck everyone!

Seriously, everyone should have won one of these by now.

Why I WON'T Blog about the Earthquake

Quite simply, this is a humor blog. There was nothing in the least bit funny about the earthquake. In fact, I've never been so terrified in my life. Can anyone explain the humor in thinking that you and your sleeping one year old baby are about to be crushed under thousands of pounds of rubble? Is there really any humor in suddenly having your house start grumbling, shaking and swaying under your feet while your possessions are shaken off the shelves? And I'm dying to know where the humor is in try to decide while your house is being shaken like a Mexican maraca whether to immediately dive for cover and save yourself, or whether to risk running back to your child's room, grabbing them, THEN dive for cover? What would you do? I couldn't decide so I just stood in the hallway doing nothing until the house stopped shaking.

But even after the 12 second shake-up, my house was still moving. In L.A., buildings are built to sway when an earthquake hits (rather than crack) so for a good 20 seconds afterward, my chandeliers, mirrors and confidence were still rather wobbly. A picture that had fallen from the wall in my baby's room had woken her and she started screaming. Lester the Giraffe wasn't built for this kind of excitement and he tumbled from his perch on the shelf. My sugar bowl in the kitchen fell onto the floor, seeking cover.

But wait - I think I'm still missing some of the humor. You see, an earthquake can often trigger aftershocks, which can be even bigger than the main event. For 24 hours after the main earthquake, you are at risk of aftershocks getting you. Rather than sitting around gripping my children with white knuckles for the rest of the day, I picked up Pixie from pre-school, cranked up the volume on the white noise machine, and made us all nap all afternoon. I didn't want to be awake when the roof fell in on me.

So no. I don't get the humor in earthquakes. Ironicly, I've spent the last four years that I've lived in L.A. secretly hoping to feel a big one because I thought it would be cool. I was wrong. Not cool.

So tell me, peanut gallery, where is the humor?

Lady of Perpetual Chaos Giveaway!

Because I can't seem to make room for them, Lady of Perpetual Chaos is doing me the honor of hosting a $25 Flaky Friends credit giveaway on her blog. Stop on by! Any other takers to host a giveaway? There is a host/hostess gift in it if you do!