Funner than fun.

Here are three easy ways to make your super fun night out even more fun. All you need is a digital camera and enough self esteem (or alcohol) to make a fool of yourself in public without giving a rat's ass. I chose to kick it up a notch at a friend's 30th birthday party with a large group of girls I had just met but you can apply the following guidelines to just about any social situation.

Photo Assignment 1: "I'm at a party but I'm dead inside"

This is how the whole taking pictures thing got started. I noticed one of the girls at the party had just ordered a couple of drinks from the bar. Since they were not clearly labeled like my PBR, I asked her what they were. "Slippery nipples," she replied. I tried not to choke on my beer and asked who the second one was for. "They're both for me," she said. "I have really high tolerance." I fell in love a little bit and asked if I could take her picture.

Then my sister and I died laughing for about 5 minutes. I mean, come on! Does she or does she not look totally dead inside? I just think it's awesome to pose for a photo like this. We were beyond inspired but erasing all life from your face when you're in the middle of a loud honky tonk is really hard. We had to try for a long long time before we finally got it right.

Then we shared the fun with some of the other girls in our party.

I know it's hard to tell because of the whole dead inside thing but trying not to laugh or smile or show any signs of life whatsoever is one of the funniest damn things ever! Whenever we were not trying really really hard to get a picture, we were all laughing hysterically.

Photo Assignment 2: Try to be in every single picture.

At some point in the night my sister Molly and our friend Sarah decided they wanted to be in every picture that was taken the rest of the night. This was not some ha ha, wouldn't that be funny kind of idea. Nooooo. They were completely serious. And so determined!

Sometimes they worked as a team, while other times they had to split up to cover multiple cameras.

A couple of random people at the bars saw what they were doing and thought they'd try to get in on the fun.

But they were no match for the dynamic duo.

Wherever there was a camera...

...that's where you'd find them.

Yes, that's Molly's hand.

NOTE: THIS ASSIGNMENT IS NOT FOR EVERYONE. IF YOU ARE NOT ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE AND PHOTOGENIC LIKE MOLLY AND SARAH, CHOOSING THIS ASSIGNMENT COULD BE A HIGHLY REGRETTABLE DECISION.

Photo Assignment 3 - Strike a pose.

Jealous of all the fun Molly and Sarah were having, I came up with a little game of my own. I wouldn't necessarily try to be in photos but if it just so happened I was in a shot, I'd be sure to give a nice wide open mouthed smile. Every time.

This assignment works with just about any pose you like. Tongue out, winking, peace sign - these are all acceptable choices. The only real key is consistency. And you might want to be careful when choosing a pose. For example, in retrospect, I can see that a big ol' gaping mouth is not necessarily a good look for me. It makes me look somewhat certifiable or, at the very least, wasted. Until I saw these photos I was pretty offended by how hung over I was. I thought surely I didn't deserve such punishment - I had only had a few beers! (Or something like that...) But once I started clicking through pictures and saw photo after photo of my tonsils, my throbbing head made a little more sense.

Next time I'll choose the thinker's pose.

For all you pregnant ladies out there.

Have I got a show for you!

No, it's not a peek inside the womb at the little miracle you've got cooking or a how-to guide for motherhood. It's nothing to do with what to expect or doctors who know too much or multiple births. It's WAY better than all that.

It's a show on Discovery Health called I Didn't Know I was Pregnant. Yes, that's right - didn't know. As in, I didn't know I was pregnant until a full grown baby came out of me. Like, Whew! I must have eaten something bad, I feel AWFUL. I mean, my back is KILLING ME! Wait. What's that noise? Is someone crying? Is that a freaking baby on the floor?

Yeah.

I think all pregnant women should watch this show because it is the only thing out there that will allow you to enjoy your pregnancy without being worried all the time. I mean, if these women can continue to play volleyball and and sing in rock and roll bands and drink alcohol and whatnot, surely you can have a latte once in a while. If a woman can drop an 8 pound baby out of her vagina onto the filthy cement floor of a campground bathroom (yes head first) only to discover that it's perfectly healthy and fine, you can probably arrive at the hospital without a birth plan.

I mean, if ever there was a show to make you feel like a rock star mom, this is it. No matter what the books and doctors and strangers on the street tell you you're doing wrong, at least you know you're pregnant. Right? That's like light years ahead of these poor mamas.




Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say this is a good show. It's terrible. But, there's something fascinating about it that makes it hard to turn away.

And, kind of like when you watch a show in health class about lice and then everyone starts scratching their heads and looking around all paranoid like Oh crap! I hope no once thinks I have lice!, I am pretty sure this show will leave you convinced that you're pregnant. Totally flat stomach? Haven't had sex in nine months? I don't think it matters. If it could happen to them, it could happen to anyone.

And, no, this is not some weird way of announcing I'm pregnant. I think I am, sure, but that's just the show talking. When I am pregnant you better believe I will know it. I mean, how else am I going to get daily massages for sciatica and twice weekly chocolate cupcakes for cravings? I'm not going to get to lie around watching bad television and whining about how hard it is to grow a human if I don't even know I'm pregnant. Seriously - not knowing would be a total waste.

Home, sweet home.

Did I forget to mention I was going out of town? How worried you must have been! Where's Maggie? Is everything okay? It's been forever since her last post! Maybe she was wrong about that whole death by chocolate thing...

You poor things.

But, fear not! I'm back and (almost) ready to jump back in to this whole blogging thing. Almost. But not quite. It's a lot of work! And my son is barely napping these days and my house feels like it's falling apart around me and we're going to have company later this week and it's summer vacation and, and, and...sometimes a sister just needs to go offline for a little while, okay?! (It took me three tries to remember my Facebook password - I think that's a good sign, don't you?)

In the meantime, I will leave you with a photo from my trip. My girls' trip (no kids or husbands allowed!) with my best friends from high school.

Pirates of the Truckee River.

Now turn off the computer and live a little! Reconnect with an old friend! Take your kid on an adventure! Make a recipe you've never tried before! Turn up the music and have a dance party! (Geez, get me in the mountain air for a few days and I'm like a totally different person. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll be back to normal soon enough...)

Hair today, gone tomorrow.

I asked my husband if he would guest blog about the sudden passing of Michael Jackson but no such luck. It's too bad too because while I, like most people, love(d) the King of Pop, Billy is a Michael Jackson fan. At least, that's what his second grade poster all about him read: Billy is a Michael Jackson fan. I looked and looked for the photograph of him standing next to it (I know it's here somewhere) but no luck with that either. I did, however, find the collage I made for his 30th birthday party and on it was one of the photos I wanted to share. Check it out - right there in the middle is a photo of Bill dressed up as Michael Jackson for Halloween in 2nd grade.

If you look real close you can see his one silver sequined glove and a Beat It shirt poking out from beneath his leather jacket. Is that a wig? you ask. No! It's his 7 year old hair DYED and PERMED to look like Michael Jackson's! What's up with his face? His nanny (the woman conveniently located to the left of young Billy on the collage) used her make up to turn him into one hell of a convincing young Michael. I wish I had some of the other photos - you know, the ones of him going to school on a normal day with a jet black jheri curl. I wonder how long it took to go back to normal...

I think it's very sad that Micheal Jackson is gone. He was a true American icon who changed the face of music and video and celebrity forever. I can't even begin to imagine how many people he impacted. Have you ever met a musician who wasn't inspired in some way by Michael Jackson? I haven't. And as a non-musician, he totally changed my life too. If it wasn't for my sister needing to listen to Thriller every night as she drifted off to asleep, I may never have gotten my own room (I couldn't sleep with the music on and she slept on her side so headphones didn't work). Now, I find myself listening to classic Michael Jackson at least once a week. It just makes the house feel good.

It seems so crazy that on the very same day Michael Jackson passed away Farrah Fawcett died, too. I must admit I only really know her from her hair and the poster. I think I was a little young to watch Charlie's Angels when it was in its prime but then again, I never saw Star Wars as a kid either. Maybe it wasn't that I was too young - maybe I was just kind of a dork.

Here's how you know she was an icon: I never saw the show yet I still knew who she was. I got a hand-me-down Farrah Fawcett head (with "real hair" to practice feathering on!) from my neighbor and never for one second questioned who it was supposed to be. And in between fourth and fifth grade, I found a Farrah-esque wig at a yard sale and wore it around the house all summer long.

Yeah, I was totally a dork.

Speaking of hair...

I got a hair cut! Here are some photos Liam took this morning:

It will probably never look like this again because, even though I had years of practice on the fake Farrah head, I still cannot replicate a professional blow out at home. But, then again, these photos were taken after riding in the car with the windows down, drinking beer in the back yard on a very sweaty night, and sleeping all night long. So, I guess there's hope yet.

I like it because it's versatile.

It looks good with a sombrero...

...and a hunter's cap!

Playing dress up is fun.

Because knowledge is power.

Just a quick public service announcement:

Death by chocolate is NOT POSSIBBLE. If it was, I wouldn't be writing this right now. I would be dead. By chocolate. Brownies, specifically. A whole lotta brownies...

Do you remember that Sex and the City episode where Miranda bakes a cake because the one she really wants at the bakery is like $70 and that's just ridiculous even for Manhattan? So then she's home alone with a whole entire Duncan Hines cake (with chocolate frosting from the can!) and everyone knows, This is not going to end well. She eats a slice and then another slice and then, since no one else is around to judge her, a third slice. Then she covers the cake with tinfoil like, Okay lady, walk away from the cake. But then she uncovers it and stares at it for a minute before slicing off a teeny tiny sliver all along one side like you do when even you don't want to know you went back for fourths. Then she shoves the entire slice into her mouth like, What the hell is wrong with me? and throws the rest of the cake in the trash and leaves the room. But then, not 4 seconds later, she comes back and eats more cake. Out of the garbage!

Everyone was watching like Ew, gross! Please tell me she did not just eat cake out of the trash? But I was thinking, That cake was totally taunting her. What the hell was she supposed to do?

It's kind of like that with these brownies. I haven't eaten any of them out of the trash yet but that's just because I haven't gotten to the point where I'm ready to throw them away. We're so close to being done with them, you know? I am certain we can get rid of them the old fashioned way. One thin little slice after another.

Baked goods just don't make any sense unless there are lots of hungry people around to eat them. Two people and a picky three year old are no match for an entire pan of brownies. Typically I know better than to stack the odds against us like this but it was Father's Day and everyone knows Father's Day is incomplete without brownies and Pepsi. My hands were tied.

After I ate several brownies for dinner last night, I woke up this morning with a firm resolve to try harder. I had a healthy breakfast smoothie, took some vitamins and went to a Pilates class downtown that I had never tried before. As luck would have it we were doing lots of twists and other moves designed to help flush out the system and get rid of excess baked goods. I'm pretty sure our instructor was looking at me when he advised us to drink lots of water after class, "not beer or wine or hard liquor" but I think that was more to do with me falling off my ball and getting church giggles in the middle of class than anything else. I mean, there's just no way he could have known I was going straight home after Pilates to eat more brownies. Right?

Anyway, the point is, while eating excess chocolate may be somewhat problematic, it will definitely not kill you. So go nuts. Like walnuts. In, say...double fudge chocolate brownies? With a Pepsi. The Dad in you life will thank you for it.

Going, going green.

Drum roll please...

This week I cleaned the bathtub TWICE.

That's a No Mommy Brain first! I mean, where do I think I am, La Quinta Inn? Twice a month, maybe. But twice a week? Never before.

But, I really didn't have a choice. Right after my last post Liam and I were at the grocery store when I accidentally stumbled upon this:

Don't let the natural setting or eco-friendly looking label fool you - there's scrubbing bubbles in there!

Hello, old friend.

I was looking for more Nature's Source Windex which is really great and totally helped wean me off Mrs. Meyer's Lemon Verbena Spray. I could go through that stuff by the bucket full if I'm not careful. It's like crack cocaine. Someday when I'm rich beyond my wildest dreams I will have a whole closet full of Mrs. Meyer's cleaning products (and while I'm at it, my own clothes closet and a coat closet too!). But, until then the Nature's Source Windex is a good inbetweener (not as cheap as vinegar but less expensive than Mrs. Meyer's).

Imagine my surprise when right next to the Windex I saw the little scrubbing bubbles guy staring up at me like, Check it out, lady - I've gone green! I was so excited. I threw it in the cart and raced home to give Liam a bath.

Here he is telling me he's three.

Here he's like, "Is that enough bath crayon for you?"

And here he is going all Sean Penn on me like,
"Get out of here you paparazzi scum!"

I let the crayon sit over night before trying to scrub it off. I would have let it sit for a couple of weeks like usual but we had more friends coming over for dinner last night (frequently inviting people into our home is my trick for staying on top of the cleaning - if it was just the three of us, this place would have fallen apart years ago).

Nature's Source - meet your match.

First I tried scrubbing the bath crayon off with water and a scratchy sponge just so you could see what we're working with. The blue came off fine but the red? Yeah right.

Next I sprayed on the scrubbing bubbles and watched them go to work.

Wahooo!!! It's just like on TV!

Here is the finished product:

Nature's Source Scrubbing Bubbles: Take a bow.

I was very surprised and impressed but also kind wondering, do you think this line of cleaning products is really more eco-friendly than the original? It seems legit but I keep hearing a voice of reason say, "Yes my dear but don't you know that arsenic is also natural."

When this stuff runs out, I'll be sure to try some of the great suggestions you left in the comments. Thank you!

*************************************

In unrelated news, someone opened my bathroom window really, really wide to take an earthy looking picture of some cleaning products and in the process totally broke the frame and let one of the window panes fall into the overgrown depths below.

So, while I may not have to worry about asphyxiating the next time I clean my bathtub, there is a very good chance I will be eaten alive by mosquitoes while I sleep. (Well, there would have been had Bill not placed a magazine over the gaping hole - now why didn't I think of that?)

Don't blame me, I'm high on fumes.

Damn you, generic scrubbing bubbles and your unholy ability to clean a bathtub. You are making it next to impossible for me to fully go green.

I mean, I want to be all eco-friendly and biodegradable or whatever - because it's good for the planet and our health and Oprah has told me on more than one occasion that it's something I need to do (WWOD) - but I also really want to get the bath crayon off my bathtub once in a while. Ain't no vinegar in the world gonna make that happen.

Who needs elbow grease when you've got this little guy?

It's not even me that keeps buying the stuff. It's Bill. If we lived in a Dateline NBC episode, he would be buying it specifically to poison me with noxious fumes. He'd get Liam to draw all over the bathtub with the red bath crayon (the worst offender) and then invite someone over for dinner so I'd be forced to clean it. I wouldn't know until after I'd pulled on my rubber gloves and sprayed every inch of the bathroom with magic bubbles that the window and door were "broken" and I was stuck. Eventually I'd asphyxiate and die - Death by Scrubbing Bubbles - and he'd show up to my funeral with some buxom blond dripping in diamonds he bought with the money from my life insurance policy.

But, obviously, that stuff only happens on TV. In real life, my husband buys scrubbing bubbles because he likes to use them when he cleans the bathroom. Yeah, I know - real life is so much sweeter than the crap on TV.

I have tried to stay away from the scrubbing bubbles but they keep calling me back. There's just nothing I don't like about them. Even the fact that they make the air around me turn to poison is somewhat of a selling point. I can almost always get Liam to leave me alone for five minutes when I cite something serious like toxic gas. My usual excuse - because alone time is good for us - just doesn't have the same ring.

PS - Vinegar? You smell like douche and everyone knows it.