Thursday, September 30, 2010

Giving Props!


I just want to give a shout out to all the humor writers out there. I have been poking around blogs and websites that host all kinds of writers these last few days and, although I am neglecting ALL my duties at home and some personal hygiene ones as well, I am awed at the talent. I am not in the same ball park - heck, I'm not even in a town that has a baseball field where this talent is concerned. It is so great. The writing is fantastic and my laughs are genuine. I have sooo much to learn.

For Mature Audiences



If you are attempting to watch the last 5+ seasons of Rescue Me back to back on Netflix- be warned!!

You will start calling your husband an asshole, your children pussies and you will want angry sex every night of the week.

psst...men...it's a "watch instantly" on Netflix...I"m just sayin'.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Still Distracted By Shiny Objects...Thank GOD!

"Ahem...As I sit at the kitchen table on the eve of my 50th birthday I ponder my life. I think about the life that lies ahead of me. I get excited at the prospect of all that I still have left to accomplish. I feel...I feel... 50, 50 Fifffffftttyyyyyy!"

"Ah, Di, you're only 45 and your birthday is a month away."

"Fifffffftyyyyyy....well, soon I'll be 50."

"And soon I will be 87 but you don't see me lamenting my life past or dreaming of my future, do you?"

"Well, dearest, you are not a sensitive soul. You don't lament anything. Even the cancellation of Six Feet Under, which as you would know if you lamented anything, had THE best endings in the history of endings."

"Yes, but you over think everything. Why are you saying that you are going to be 50?"

"I'm just practicing."

"Oh."

"I need to feel it roll off my tongue to see how I feel about it. Fiffffttyyyyy"

"And how do you feel?"

"Well, it's hard to say."

"Why, 'cause you're not 50 yet?"

"No. Yes. Dammit."

"It felt kinda icky didn't it?"

"Yes. What am I going to do?  50. It's so...so..."

"Old? You're only as old as you..."

"Shut up. Really, that saying sucks. I feel old now."

"You look great, though."

"Seriously? Can't you see the lines? No, not the ones on my face, goober, the ones between my breasts. All of a sudden I looked and there's these three lines. WTF is that?"

"Honestly, I've never really noticed. Hmmmm....what do you want for your birthday?"

"A boob lift."

"I can work with that."

"What? My 34 Wanna-Bs just aren't doing it for ya?"

"How about an iPad?"

"Ohhh awesome. Yes. I would love that. I was thinking about getting a new laptop but I think I might like the iPad more. I can bring the photos to mom. I just don't know about that little keyboard. Do you think I'll get used to it? I should keep my laptop for home use. Right?"

"Sure. Let's head on over to the Mac store."

"I'll grab my coat. What were we just talking about?"

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Get The Hook!


I am totally Smitt(s)-en. Ever since that scene on NYPD Blue when Jimmy Smitts' character stood against the wall ready to plant one on Kim Delaney's character, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Oh, yes...great television back then, no?

Where was I? Yes, I was writing a review of Jimmy Smitts' new show Outlaw. I am not a reviewer by any stretch (I think I made this disclaimer before), however; every once in a while I have to opine if I feel something is really good or really awful. And I feel bad that this show may end up in the awful bucket. I really wanted to give this a chance. Fool me once Jimmy shame on you (Cane) but fool me twice...

And honestly, I started out really hoping Outlaw would have this amazing hook that would pull me in and make yet another crime solving show interesting to watch.

Back to Outlaw. Smitts' character Cyrus is a judge, then he's not a judge, now he's the attorney and he's going to defend a man who has been wrongfully imprisoned. Okay, cool. Then...and I'm almost embarrassed for them. Enter Lisbeth...oops sorry Lucinda. The hip dressing, ultra cool chick/private investigator with a tongue that airs on the side of naughty. She even mentions that she's "bi".

Oh no they didn't!!

I paused the show and said to my husband "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he said, "I'm thinking exactly what you are thinking". Our mystery was solved when Lisbeth...oops Lucinda says she was going to hack into the computer system to get some information. So now she's a computer hacker? That's ingenious! And I am sure in her past she tried to burn..never mind. I don't want to give away the story if, on the off chance, you are of the remaining few that have not yet read "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo".

Oh yes, they did!!

So, on this show goes. Yes, they toss a football around while brainstorming the case; yes, they win the case and yes, they have burgers and basketball to celebrate. B-o-r-i-n-g! No hook. Now the word hook is starting to irritate me.

Cyrus looks great but I am still not sure what makes this show different or compelling. Please don't tell me its Lisbeth...oops Lucinda. I feel duped. I know... Maybe Cyrus will solve one of his cases donned only in his undies? Or what if Cyrus gets killed and his body is still there but his mind is replaced with...say....Anna Nicole Smith!!!

They could call it Drop Dead "Damn Jimmy Smitts is Hot"!

Saturday, September 18, 2010

My Sunday Morning Addiction

So here I am Sunday morning. It's way before the kids get up and my husband is still snoring lightly. Feeling a little guilty, I'm about to do what I know I shouldn't. I've tried to quit. I know it's not good for me. I am sure it's causing brain damage. But, I am powerless.

Click. The room fills with that unnatural blue light. It doesn't take long - two maybe three clicks to find one. It has gotten to the point where the brand doesn't even matter. I am dependent, hooked and in need of help.

But look...the people...they are so happy. Those aren't fake smiles. Look at them sitting there in that make-believe world that is that kitchen. Look around at all the beautifully prepared little bowls of vegetables and fruits. And the cheese tray, look....don't you see?? We know the little elves that got up in the wee hours of the morning to peel and chop are tuckered out and sleeping happy, little elfin' dreams. It's all good 'cause we know if we buy into this we may have little elves preparing for us, too. We believe.

I watch. Unabashedly I will watch. Every meal prepared in under 10 seconds. Every smoothie and sorbet (I KNOW I would make these every day just like the woman in the front row said she would) whipped up in 3 seconds with all natural ingredients! But wait...there's a hold out. A man several seats away from her, he's...can it be....frowning...he...doesn't....believe. They spy him. Oh, he's in for it. As they gaze into his face they tell him to behold. He's shaking his head - can you believe this guy?? They prepare for him not just a milk shake, no, but a chocolate, mint milk shake made with those candy mint wheels. Yes, mint wheels ground to minty perfection. As they hand it to him, he eyes it suspiciously, takes a sip and....Yes!!! He smiles. He loves it! He's a believer. Whew!

Back on track. Mixing guacamole, cheese sauce, marinara. Is there no end? No end to the magic? Clean up's a breeze (of course it is). Oh look, they show a clip of a woman completely struggling with her "old blender". She's got bubbles up her arms, on her nose, a mess in the sink, she's just about in tears. Please, help her! Send her one...pronto! They will save us all from that horror!

My heart's pumping, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I've reached a high like no other (well, some might say low...they're not my friends anymore). It's bliss. I sit back on my pillow to take it all in. I'm smiling and hoping my squeals and yelps haven't awoken anyone.

Then, as is bound to happen 'cause it happens every time, they reach the part where my little fantasy comes crashing all around me. It has to be this way. I know this. I have things to do today - goodness. It's very painful but never painful enough to make me want to quit. Some might say it's part of the sickness. I brace myself. I try and avert my eyes but I am still under the spell...still powerless. Here it comes...

4 Easy Payments of $33.33. Like ripping a band-aid off quickly! It's over before I realize it. They do try and make it easy for me. They tell me if I order in the next 18 minutes, I can take 1 payment away. Oh, how sneaky they are. But I am not fooled - or rather I am, but my husband would kill me. And I know, yes I do that there's always next Sunday. A skin cream perhaps? A miracle workout program?

I'll be there.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

An Outpouring of Love...on Facebook!


Say what you will about Facebook. I have only been on the bandwagon for a year or so (my first year I was only keeping tabs on my son's page, yup, I am one of those moms) because I couldn't understand the concept. Now, I get it. And although I am less likely to post what I am doing/feeling/eating/cleaning, I will post pictures for relatives and I will check all my friends' pages to see what they are doing/feeling/eating/cleaning. Why do I care? Who the heck knows.

But my post today is on the somber side. A young girl in our town, 16, passed away this week from complications of viral meningitis. My son was friends with her and took several classes with her. This has hit him incredibly hard. It is so hard for me to find words for him as I was 31 the first time a friend passed away. I can't imagine being 16!

This is where help comes...in a very unexpected place. The posts that are being written on this young lady's Facebook wall are simply amazing. These are young people writing unbelievably powerful posts. None are ashamed at posting their raw emotions; all are giving voice to their abundant joy at having know her. Posts are from dear, dear friends, family, her boyfriend, school pals, church friends and kids that didn't even know her. The list goes on and on and the posts have got to be nearing the hundreds.

By writing, these kids still feel connected to her. It is obvious, in the words they choose, that they are letting her know, where ever she is, that she is loved and missed terribly. They are also letting her know how much she touched their lives, helped their lives, inspired them and they will never forget. The love they are showing this family and this girl is breathtaking.

Say what you will about Facebook, but this is a way for young people to grieve like there's never been. And for that, Facebook, thank you.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

"Go Away, I'm Blogging!"


My 10 year old daughter wants my attention. Something about watching her new dance routine. Or did she ask me to wash her jeans?

My 12 year old son wants me to drive him to his friend's house across town...NOW!

My 14 year old son asked if I could come watch him reach that final level on COD. Or maybe he's asking to have fish for dinner?

My 16 year old son ignores me as he lumbers by.

My husband just asked "what's for dinner?" I told him fish.

I have an addictive personality and it ain't pretty.

Flashback to 1990: It was a little game called Tetris. You may remember. There had been nothing like it before. All those shapes falling faster and faster. Do I turn this one? Can I move it quick enough? Oh, it was pure joy. And really, it was my husband's fault - putting that 6,000 lb. computer in my bedroom. Yes, we were newly married and short on space so in the bedroom it went. He still gets the shakes when anyone mentions this game.

Jump to 1997: Online backgammon this time. Ah yes, remember it well -- playing with people in different countries, racking up the points. Family? They were there, I am sure. I mean, I did have two toddlers and was pregnant with a third, how could I not hear them? Plus, I think it was they who planned the intervention.

Present day: Now I'm trapped in the blog-o-sphere. I know there are things I could be doing. Heck, should be doing. But this thing about how I'm not doing anything that I should or could be doing isn't going to write itself.

"MOM!!!!!"

Sunday, September 12, 2010

The Name Has Been Changed...


Definitely not to protect the innocent...

My blog was originally called Moon Clippings (a cute story about cutting my child's fingernails and the moon - not cutting the moon's fingernails - that'd be silly). This was when I thought my blog would be about cute family/children stories. Then I realized, we don't have any cute family stories or cute children. JK. But really, I found my voice (my fresh voice) was better suited for humor. Thus, A Fresh Voice. Since someone owns afreshvoice@blogspot (which he's not using BTW...whatever!), I kept the URL as moonclippings. Anyway, I have gotten a lot of comments about the name moonclippings and how it is WAY better than A Fresh Voice. FINE! Back it goes..you guys know way more about this stuff than I do anyway.

Onward and upward!

Thursday, September 9, 2010

If I forget - Happy Anniversary, Sweetie!

This month my husband and I are celebrating an anniversary - 20 years! Considering I got married at 13, I'm a young 46 year old.

I would like to share a few snippets from married life then to married life...now!

Then: I come home to find yellow post-it notes leading me to the bedroom, which is not only candle lit, but also has little pieces of chocolate strewn on the bed...he's getting to know me.

Now: I come home to find yellow post it notes on the fridge reminding me to pick up my own chocolate 'cause..."isn't that time of month coming?"....yup, he knows me!

Then: All bathroom "duties" were done with the door closed and locked, window open just in case, fan running drowning out the loveliness.

Now: Bathroom door hasn't been closed since 1994. Not only do I see but I hear all the loveliness. That's okay, I'm too busy cutting my toe nails to notice.

Then: Dinner was prepared together, side by side. Jazz played on the stereo in the other room. Wine was poured, table set, conversation ensued.

Now: Wine is handed to him as soon as he walks in. He's careful not to trip over the garbage bags that line up like little soldiers waiting to be brought to the basement. Homework is checked, piano and/or guitar practices are nagged over, money is asked for (surprisingly not by me), reading lists are signed and lights out. Dinner? Oops!

Then: "Honey, I filled your gas tank for the work week."

Now: "Honey, while you're getting gas, have them rotate the tires and fill the washer fluid looks like it might snow. Oh, and pick me up some of those Slim Jims."

Then: "Oh, Sweetie, you look so beautiful. That dress is amazing on you. How did I get so lucky? I'm going to wear the tan pants and new blue shirt you bought me. That'll match your dress nice, right?

Now: "I'm not changing."

Then: "Happy Anniversary, sweetie. I made dinner reservations at your favorite place."

Now: Billy has lacrosse practice at 6. Shelly has gymnastics until 7:30. John wants the car but I'm gonna need to bring that casserole over to the Martins. Margie is feeling better but I still think it's nice to help since Chuck has been laid off. What time do you have to be at the meeting? Okay, you drop off Billy, go to the meeting and then when you're done grab him. DON'T let him talk you into going to McDonald's afterward. It's a school night. I'll drop off the casserole and then grab Shelly from gymnastics. Oh, while they were filling my tires with air, they told me we are going to need to replace all four. We good?

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

I'm Just Sitting Here Watching The Ants Go 'Round and 'Round


I am very sure this was not in my job description - or maybe it was. Who knows?

I woke up to find several sugar ants having a party on my kitchen island. I know... I left the lemon squares out covered only in tin-foil, my bad for sure. So, I throw out the offending squares, kill the little suckers one by one and wash down the island with an organic lemon-scented cleaner. Certain that has done the trick.

2 hours later - 4 little buggers are back. Where are they coming from? Squish, throw out, clean again and set out for my girlicologist appt. (I was hoping there would be something funny to report about it, but really, how could there be? Other than the fact that my doctor had an emergency and they asked me if I wouldn't mind seeing another NP. Nah. She walks in... "Nice to meet you" says my vagina...whatever!!!)

2 hours later - 1 lone little sugar ant. I dispose of him as I had done his brothers and then I think. I need to know where they are coming in. What good is it to get them when they are here. I need to find the point of entry...Lordy...this could go on forever.

So I sit and lo and behold I spy 2 ants in front of the fridge. And I'm sitting there thinking this could make a funny blog post. I'm noticing now that I have this blog, my life is lived in terms of "is this a funny entry?" So, I'm waiting and watching. They prefer if I don't move so I have to sit very still. I thought they would head straight for the island, but no, they circled around and around and I was like "come on one of you head for something, do something" maybe they were doing that signaling dance that bees do to alert the nest under my fridge that there could be a feast of lemon squares here or, more likely, that there's a 5'4" nutbag just lurking and killing them for no apparent reason. And could someone send in the reinforcements 'cause although she's sitting still, she ain't foolin' anyone.

Anyhow, I ended up squishing these two wayward ants 'cause they obviously have no idea what is going on and didn't get the message about the lemon squares. So I sit. And wait.

Soon my kids will be home and ain't this gonna be a sight. Mom squatting on the floor, napkin in fist, not moving, staring at the fridge, muttering to herself about lemon squares and an island. If I know my kids they'll be like "Hey mom, can you move, I gotta get in the fridge."

Monday, September 6, 2010

No Cats Were Hurt During The Making Of This Blog


Remember those first glorious nights when your baby was finally sleeping through the night? The precious hours of sleep that evaded you for 3, 4 or in our case, 9 months. You remember. Food tasted better, the sun shone brighter. Do you also remember the little backslide baby went through? When baby would yell out at 3am..sort of an "Are you still there? I'm still here, just making sure we don't forget about each other. First baby on the left...helllooooo!" Your first instinct was to run in, comfort, tap his little bottom while you are slung over the side of the crib praying to the ever-loving Gods to make this child go back to sleep.

Then you clued in that this was some sadistic game the baby was playing. He cried, you answered, he went to sleep, you were up for the night decorating or making shopping lists. Hmmmm....Then, you sought help. "Let the baby cry". The books told you. "He's only crying because he knows you'll come in ". Freakin' Pavlov and his dogs. Anyway, it worked. You beat the game and baby realized his morning breakfast tasted much better when not scraped off his bib first. It was win-win.

Now the children are older. Everyone is sleeping and the problems are different (different blog). And never again will you discount the value of a good night's sleep. But WAIT...

The cat has started meowing at 4am. Just a one time thing, you think. You get up, open the door to let him out (he turns his back and struts into the kitchen). You look into his bowl (there's still plenty of food). He lays at your feet and stretches. You curse a little and go back to bed. Next night, same thing. Are you kidding me? What does he want? Terror fills you. PTSD!!! You realized your cat is now the new baby. Said cat is 5 years old!!

Off to Google you go.

Google tells you that the cat has learned that meowing will get you to come to him and he needs to unlearn this behavior. Pavlov! Google also tells us that to help this along, we should spray the cat with water when he meows in the middle of the night. Fine. Desperate times and all that. We have filled the water bottle. We are armed and ready.

Then we hear the battle cry. Last night at 3:30am, he started. My husband is like "we forgot the water bottle downstairs." I'm like "what else can we use?" He's like "I have no idea." I'm like "can't we just throw a bucket of water on him or spray hair spray." He's like "that's cruel and we don't want to traumatize him." So we wait 25 minutes. Then my husband, a little traumatized himself, had an idea! An awful idea! My husband had a wonderful, awful idea! He crept to the bath, filled his Waterpik and stood at the ready waiting for the next meow. My little soldier.

One meow. Wait make sure the cat's really talking to us. Two meows. Open door. Spray. Cat is already halfway down stairs when door was open 'cause he thought he was getting what he wanted. Water missed target. Close door. Wait. Cat comes back. Meow. Open door. Wait. Cat is confused. Cat comes near door and meows. Cat is sprayed with water. Target hit. Cat flies downstairs. Cat is quiet for rest of night. I'm cracking up. Sorry, it just looked so silly. Waterpik, cat flying down the stairs. Hahaha.

I'm still giggling a few minutes later when my husband gets up. Goes into the bath. Comes back. Waits. I am about to giggle when...I see the Waterpik.

Friday, September 3, 2010

What's In A Name?

My 10 year old daughter had a doctor's appointment scheduled so we were talking about what the good Dr. was going to say and do and, more importantly, if she needed to have a shot. She was asking me about my doctor and I told her I see many doctors for the different parts of me that are now in need of looking after (skin, eyes, boobs). I told her I see a gynocologist for woman issues and she asked if my doctor was a man. I said no, that it was a woman. "So you see a girlicologist?"

My dear Doctor Greene will now always be referred to as my girlicologist. Do you think I can get her to change her business cards?