The Verdict so Far

I think it's been about 3 weeks since I've had any diet coke and I have to say, I have formed some opinions on the subject. This is by no means scientific, it's just me, not drinking diet cola or consuming any artificial sweeteners.

I think I'm really glad I stopped.

What prompted me to write this post tonight is that my left knee isn't hurting. That may not seem like a big deal, but I am so used to accommodating a sore knee that I almost don't know what to do without it. It's kind of a shock to sit in my chair and not have to contort my body in a way that doesn't stress my knee. I also tend to have chronic pain in my right shoulder that seems mostly absent these days. I've read that one of the side-effects of drinking carbonated soda is joint aches-- I think I believe it.

Now I'm sure the diet cola addicts are still sucking up their aspartame and shaking their heads at my new-agey silliness. But I think I'm on to something here.

Normally when I try to lose weight I have two problems; appetite and sugar cravings. Since I've ditched the diet cola, those problems have almost disappeared. That isn't to say that I never want any chocolate, but it's a lot easier to eat it in moderation right now. I've also been able to incorporate a lot more veggies into my diet without feeling the need to go back and demolish the leftovers from dinner.

Baby steps.

I don't weigh myself because scales are deadly to me. But I have lost an inch off of my waist, so I'd say that's progress. I'm still lifting weights and doing cardio six days a week too.

I'm not trying to say that I think going off of the diet cola will make your weight melt off. Goodness knows it takes at least twice as long to get off as it came on. (If you haven't ever watched "Supersize Me" by Morgan Spurlock, you should. He gained 25 pounds in one month of eating nothing but McDonalds food. It took him 4 months on a strict vegan diet to lose 20 pounds and another 6 to lose the last five-- so don't expect overnight results) I can't stress this enough to anyone trying to lose weight--with or without the diet coke-- be gentle with yourself. Don't expect overnight results.

I've decided I'm going to give this whole diet-coke-less thing at least a year (though I'll probably never drink it again) just to see what kind of a difference just changing one thing can make.

If you don't mind, I'll post regular updates. This works for me as kind of a journal I can use to keep track of my progress and note the changes I feel in my body. Hopefully I can encourage some other people to try this experiment with me.

If that sounds interesting to you-- One trick to not drinking soda is simply switching to something else. Some people have luck with tea but I wanted something cold. So I drink a tall glass of water and juice; 3/4 water to 1/4 juice. I avoid juices with artificial sweeteners and the high fructose corn syrup. So far the juice/water combo works well for me.

Tell me what you think? Anyone else tempted to leave the diet evil?

Who Would Make Your 'Laminated List?'

I have this post over on my sci-fi blog but it's a good fit here too...


I was watching New Amsterdam this evening and decided I have a new crush. The star of the show, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, is hawt! I've also realized that I seem to have a particular type when it comes to the men I drool over. Maybe I'm the only one who sees it, but he reminds me a little of my main celebrity-crush, Hugh Jackman.

Anyway, thinking of these hot men reminded me of an episode of "Friends" that created the cultural phenomenon of the Laminated List. The urban dictionary defines the list as:

A list of the top 5 people, usually celebrities, with whom you could have sex with without repercussions, if the opportunity arose, regardless of whether you were in a relationship or not.

A woman's laminated list might be:
1.) Mel Gibson
2.) Brad Pitt
3.) Colin Ferrel
4.) Pierce Brosnan
5.) Russell Crowe

C'mon, don't tell me you've never considered who'd be on your list.

The funny part for me is that beyond Hugh Jackman, and now Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, I have a hard time coming up with a solid list. Well, okay, add Daniel Craig-- then it gets hard. The final two. Hmmm. Let me think. Brad Pitt? Good looking but not rugged enough. Jamie Bamber? Very good looking but I think he may be short. Orlando Bloom? Cute but too young. Justin Timberlake? Ditto. Jake Gyllenhaal? Ditto. Johnny Depp? Very nice but I like a man to look like he bathes once in a while. Harrison Ford? ...That's a tough one. But I seem to really favor men closer to my own age. Clive Owen? Ooooh, definite possibility.

So you can see my dilemma. It's hard to nail it down isn't it? So I guess my list -- so far-- would be.

1. Hugh Jackman (he is my first love)
2. Daniel Craig (Bond. Need I say more?)
3. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Sigh)
4. TBD
5. TBD

Now it's your turn. I'd like to know who you'd put on your list. I'm not going for sci-fi people either. Just those people who'd make your top five. Maybe I'll get some good suggestions...

Diet Evil

I'm sure I've mentioned in past posts, since I can be a bit obsessive-compulsive on some subjects, my struggle to lose weight. I'm not talking about a ton of weight, but enough to bother me.

Ever since I had my first child I've struggled to lose weight. I was always thin prior to having kids and it has bugged me to no end that I can't get my svelte physique back. My obsessive nature has seen me exercising up to two hours a day and eating virtually nothing--with no results. I knew something was not right from the get-go but could never figure out what it was. I worked twice as hard as anyone I knew with half the results.

I didn't give up completely, but I've come close. Over the last year I haven't really been as rigorous as I was before because it has been too darned hard on my body. Running 4 miles a day has taken a brutal toll on my knees and they forced me to take a look at the fact that my body just isn't going to take too much abuse anymore.

The most frustrating part of this is that I gained about 20 pounds a little over a year ago due to what I now know was a hissy-fit thrown by my thyroid. Now, if any of you have ever had to deal with a thyroid that has decided to act up, you'll know it's hell. You get the joys of insomnia, dry skin and weight gain. Woo Hoo! I haven't had a lot of luck in dealing with my doctors over the years. I tell them I can't lose weight and they tell me I'm fine. Healthy as horse. Nothing to worry about.

So, out of total frustration I started using over-the-counter glandulars for my thyroid. And am I glad I did! They have been a godsend and I feel tons better. I saw my doctor last week and she tested my thyroid and it came back normal. Whew! This sh*t really works.

But I'm still overweight. Not tons. I can wear a size 10 or a 12 and that's not deadly at 5'9". But I wanna lose more weight (I whined).

And then I heard something on the TV that really got my attention.

I don't know how many of you are Diet Coke addicts like me, but maybe it's time to rethink that addiction. This article and others like it have been quite the eye opener for me. If you haven't heard, it seems that researchers are now seeing a correlation between diet coke consumption and obesity-- to an even higher degree than regular soda consumption.

Well knock me over with a feather.

I have thought on an intuitive level that I should stop drinking diet cola for some time. Mostly I was thinking in terms of the acid content and the fact that it can lead to osteoporosis. But weight gain? From a diet soda? No way!

I always assumed that diet cola was God's gift to me. I could enjoy a fizzy drink without any calories. But if any of you drink diet cola you have probably noticed that over time your consumption has increased. I used to drink one or two a day, but then it evolved into grabbing one right when I wake up and plowing through the majority of a six-pack throughout the day. But according to studies, the more diet soda you drink a day, the higher your risk of obesity.

Oh hell.

Apparently your risk of being overweight is significantly increased by just drinking one a day. Heck, the study suggests that just 1/2 can a day will prove deadly to you weight.

Now, if you're like me. You're probably all too ready to scoff at this study. I have read tons of posts on different blogs about this topic and I can't believe the amount of denial out there. People are seriously attached to their diet colas. I've heard people say it's the sugar industry that's behind the studies or the tree-hugging crowd trying to rain on our parade again. I've had friends react almost violently when I have suggested trying to wean ourselves off of the diet coke. They say things like but it's my only vice!

Believe me, I know. I've said if for years. I have a ten-year diet cola habit to break. But by golly I'm going to. I am tired of my body rebelling every time I try to lose a few pounds. And if you think I'm being overly dramatic, there are now studies that show diet cola is linked to metabolic syndrome, that lovely cluster of symptoms that include the inability to lose weight, high cholesterol, abdominal obesity and high blood sugar.

Some people are trying to say that there are other lifestyle factors that cause metobolic syndrome and that diet cola isn't to blame. I might be willing to give this some credence if I had not been dieting and exercising myself to death over the last ten years. I know, I mean, I know my body has been fighting me for a long long time and the only thing that makes any sense is the diet coke addiction. Some studies suggest that the artificial sweeteners in the drink actually stimulate appetite and sugar cravings.

You know what, I agree. I've been off the cola for a little over a week and I can't believe how much change I can see already. I haven't dropped 10 pounds (I wish) but my appetite and sugar cravings do seem significantly reduced. I have girl scout cookies sitting on top of the fridge and valentines candy in the pantry that I don't feel an immediate desire to devour. Wow. That's new.

So whether you agree with the dangers of diet cola, wish me luck. I'll be everyone's guinea pig if you'd like. I'll go off the soda-- and all artificial sweeteners-- and let you know if I see any results. That way, if you're not ready to give up the diet crack, you can at least think about it while you watch me fumble around and try to figure out what it is that's keeping the fat on my belly.

Trout Pout

I've never had plastic surgery. I've never been injected with Botox or had anything surgically implanted into my chest.

I think I'm in the minority in my town. I went on a mommy's-night-out awhile ago and it dawned on my during dinner that there were more women at the table with breast implants than without.

Yikes!

My new gym membership has also provided a quite a view into how prevalent plastic surgery has become. I saw a woman in the locker room who had the scariest implants I have ever seen (and that's saying something since my mom had the old-school-hard-as-a-rock silicone implants) they puckered on the sides and left her with vaguely square shaped breast. Yowza.

But truthfully, I'm not trying to be judgemental when it comes to all the plastic surgery out there. When the most beautiful women in the world go under the knife, how is Ms. Average (like myself) supposed to feel? Take Elizabeth Hurley for example. I can't think of a women with more natural beauty, but she has become one of the many to inflate her lips into what has become infamously known as the "trout pout." And apparently Jessica Biel and Lindsay Lohan have followed suit. (I could mention the Paris Hilton pic, but do I really need to bother?)

The "trout pout" is the one the few forms of plastic surgery I haven't seen among my peers yet, which surprises me a little given what I have seen. My mom alone had implants and and eye job. I've had many friends get implants, lipo, Botox and the occasional tummy tuck.

If this seems excessive, remember, I live in California.

And I have personally felt the pressure to get plastic surgery. Prior to having kids I had a great figure-- super flat tummy, great ass-- but no boobs. I had a boyfriend who made not-so-subtle hints that I should get a boob job and I think my mom wouldn't have exactly frowned upon it. I'm glad to say I didn't cave to the pressure and ditched that boyfriend. This proved to be a good thing since childbirth brought me from and A to a C cup. Sure I have some extra cushion now and the abs aren't what they used to be. But I'm comfortable in my skin and plastic surgery isn't likely to improve upon that.

Like I said, I don't mean to be judgemental. If someone has a nose they don't like, by all means, get it fixed. But I gotta say, all this craziness over trying to stay young just doesn't seem to be working. Have you noticed that all celebrities running around with massive amounts of surgery seem to look worse? I mean, hello, Burt Reynolds? Joan Van Ark?

I hope we're just on the upside of a pendulum swing in the direction of plastic surgery that will wane on the down-swing. I sincerely hope that people will begin to realize that living healthy is the best means toward looking good. That gastric bypass surgery, lipo and face lifts are likely to only be a short-term fixes.

But I doubt it.

Nonetheless, I think mother nature is going to keep trying to tell us to leave well enough alone. I think we're going to keep seeing ridiculous looking celebrities trying to deny the effects of father time to disastrous effect. If we'll only bother to learn the lesson.

Me & Tina Fey

Have you ever had those moments when you decide to radically change your look? If you're a woman you probably do.

Last week I decided I was tired of being blond. I don't know why, but it seemed like time to go brunette again.

That isn't such a big change, but then I realized I needed glasses. I've been wearing contacts for over 20 years but they started bugging my eyes, so I needed to switch to glasses. I have an older pair, but they're the rimless style and very boring to me.

So I decided to go for some Nerd Chic and do the Tina-Fey-dark-framed things.

What do you think?

And no, I can't take a picture without the camera showing. I'm retarded when it comes to taking a pic while holding my arm out. I need a mirror.

And what about my artistic side view? You think you know what I look like but you wouldn't recognize me if you saw me face on-- since I'm not really blue and all... At least that's what I tell myself.

But the change is good. My husband gets to pretend he's going to bed with another woman and I can hide behind my glasses. We both win.

Checking My Ego at the Door

I got a gym membership.

I've been sweating it out running at 5:30 in the morning and that was surprisingly okay. Except my knees didn't think so.

I've been running for eight years and frankly, my knees are more than just a tad angry. I notice this the most when I sit in my recliner to play Guitar Hero. After amazing myself with my manual dexterity and masterful playing skills I will shift in my seat to gear up for my next virtuoso performance and notice that my knees have locked into place.

That kinda hurts.

So I was forced into thinking of another way to get some exercise and really, the only thing to do was sign up for the gym.

I've learned a couple of things.

First, I am in better shape than I thought. It turns out I'm pretty darn strong. When you sign up for the gym you get three sessions with a trainer and I am pleased to say that I can lift a lot of weight. This, I am sure, is because my 40lb son still insists that I lug him around all the time and that little sack of potatoes has given me some pretty strong arms and legs. Not only that, but running all the time has given me great endurance. I can do an hour long cardio kick-boxing class and not collapse on the floor.

Secondly, I have learned that I am in worse shape than I thought. I have done karate for years and that does involve standing in front of a mirror for an hour straight. But in karate we wear a little outfit called a gi, and those gi's are pretty baggy. At the gym there are lots of women running around in little gym outfits that prominently display their midriff and their oh-so-buffed arms. Me? Not so much. I am about the same size as Tyra Banks without the massive hooters and I have shoulders like a line-backer.

I don't think I'm going to be wearing a tank top to the cardio class again soon. I don't think my ego can take it.

Hmm, I Can't Decide if Winehouse Was Good or So So

Yes, I watched the Grammy's just so I could see Amy Winehouse.

Of course they put her on near the end. I wouldn't be surprised if they Grammy coordinators were sweating it the whole time. You know they had it organized so they could put her on in a moment's notice in case she threatened to bolt.

I can't help but feel bad for this poor thing though. Did you notice how many times she mentioned her husband Blake (her "Blake incarcerated") during her performance? I noticed at least 2 during the songs. There just seems something a little desperate about that. She also looked like she was too frail to stand up on the stage.

I hope she gets help at some point. There's obviously some talent there, just a tortured soul to go with it.

Me and My Shadow

I haven't had a dog in a long long time. I've always been a cat person. Cats are ideal for me because they don't ask for much. Most cats I've had mainly just demand food and the occasional leg to attack, and they're good.

Dogs on the other hand....

I mentioned before that I inherited a small ball of poodle fluff named Sassy. Sassy is the first dog I've had in awhile. We briefly adopted a dog about 6 years ago, but when she decided she was the alpha to my husband and started baring her teeth we spun her little hind-end around and out the front door real quick (on the advice of our local SPCA who promised to try and find a home for her without children). My daughter likes to say that Bear (the dog) "had issues."

So Sassy.

She is cute as can be. A little 8 pound fur ball that follows me everywhere. I don't think that I am usually a klutz. Well, maybe a little. But lately klutzy is my middle name. Every time I turn around to do anything, Sassy is there, entwined between my feet ready to lick her little heart out. (Let me tell you, that dog can roto-rooter your nose if you're not careful).

I hardly know what it's like to walk without a dog underfoot anymore. Walking down the stairs is now an acrobatic routine that I pray won't end up with me in a cast or a broken neck.

But oddly, I kind of like have the little fur-ball underfoot. I've never had a dog attached to me like this before. Growing up, our dogs usually took to my mom or my older brother. The cats usually liked me best but they never felt the need to follow me to the bathroom for a game of catch.

Yep, it's a whole new world.

But Do We Really Know Who They Are?

I've been blogging for almost a year and a half and for the most part it's been a really positive experience. I've become acquainted with a lot of great people and for me, it's been a good outlet and way to socialize when I'm feeling overwhelmed with being a stay-at-home mom.

But like anything else blogging can be abused-- if that's really the appropriate term. Over the last couple of days I've noticed something on two blogs that I regularly go to; appeals for money. I don't have a problem with people making money off of their blogs. I've toyed with the idea of doing PayPerPost so I could raise money for giveaways on my other blogs. There are several blogs that I respect who advertise and earn all kinds of money. I have no issue with that.

What I don't like is blatant appeals for money using a sob story of some kind. The fact is, I really don't know these people and have no idea if I'm being conned or not-- and let's face it, they're more than likely being dishonest.

One blog in particular caught my attention. The blogger (who shall remain nameless unless I find out for sure there is any wrongdoing going on) is one of those who has had ads and donation buttons on her blog for some time-- no big deal. But about a week or so ago she decides to put up a post about some pyramid-type business she's doing and wondering if anyone is interested in joining. Okaaaaay. Her credibility is dented a bit but not irreparable.

But then yesterday she puts up a post about her ailing grandparents and how they need money for meds and so on.

Am I wrong to be suspicious?

The post is all touchy-feely, sweet and certain to pull at the emotions. But is it real? I have no way of knowing. I do know, due to her gushing gratitude, that over $4000 has been raised by donations on her blog.

Granted, the people who donate are doing so of their own free will and they have the ability to question the credibility of the story as much as I do. But still, I have a feeling they're being conned.

Another blog has an appeal for money to help a young girl leave an abusive situation and go back home to her mom. There's pictures of the trailer she lives in and everything!

Yeah, I'm not buying it.

Sorry folks. No donations from me. I'll take my money directly to my local receiving home if you don't mind. It's nothing personal. I just don't know you people. Really.

Purple

My husband decided this weekend that we needed to paint my daughter's room. Actually, since babysitting is hard to come by, he decided he needed to paint her room while I kept the kids out of his way.

Ever since we bought the new house, my husband finds little ways to put his his mark on it ("piss all over it" is his more earthy way of putting it....) and I can't blame him. If anyone has been paying any attention to the housing market for the last 5 or so years, then you know how crazy it's been. We waited a long time to buy and now that we're owners, hubby likes to do little things that remind him that we can do whatever we want to the place.

My daughter is 7, so the color choices are generally predictable for a female at that age. She settled on purple. Not lavender. But a fairly jarring shade of purple called "Freesia Purple." It's better than Pepto Bismol pink, right?

I don't really care too much about the color though. My daughter is (luckily) not a hyped-up ADD child that's already bouncing off the walls, so I doubt the color will jazz her up too much.

[total tangent here] My sister-in-law has a kid who is diagnosed ADHD and she painted his room "Cardinal Red." WTF??? You want the kid to be a 24-7 nervous wreck? [tangent over]

But I am surprised at how overall this color situation is making my head spin. This is the first time in my adult life that I have been able to pick colors for my home and I am finding out how style-challenged I am. Back home, when I still lived with my parents, I painted my room a very pale peach color and that was fine. I didn't have to match anything other than my bedroom walls and my comforter--simple. But the whole-house-matching-the-furniture-thing has me totally intimidated.

And I can't really defer to hubby. He thought the purple my daughter picked out was perfectly tasteful.

Scary.

The purple is fine for a 7-year-old girl's room, but I would hyperventilate if it was anywhere else in the house.

I don't live in a brothel.

(Oops! Did I just hint that my daughter's room looks like a brothel? That can't be good.....)

Morning People

I am not a morning person. I probably never will be, no matter how hard I try.

I've been a runner for almost 8 years. It's the only exercise that seems to reliably keep my weight down, so I keep doing it. I've tried pilates but I just can't get any excitement for yoga. I've been doing martial arts for 15 years, but I don't put it into the exercise category because two days a week just doesn't cut it.

So I run. But the problem is that with two kids and a husband, and all their corresponding schedules, I have a heck of time squeezing my exercise time in. In a strange bit of desperation I've started running in the morning before my husband goes to work. The problem is, my husband leaves for work at 6:30am and that means I have to get up at 5:30am or so.

Ugh.

I'm on my third week of this schedule and I still can't seem to get a clue. If I want (hahahahahahaha) to get up at 5:30, then I should be in bed by 9:30pm to get 8 hours of sleep, right?

Oh, that will so never happen.

I am a night owl in the worst way. During my college years I worked nights and rarely got into bed before midnight-- and that's being very conservative. Usually I was lucky to be off work by midnight. And many a night was spent at the local Denny's eating french fries and chocolate shakes with my co-workers. Maybe if I'd had fewer nights like that I wouldn't need to get up while it's still dark outside....

I've gotten myself into this vicious cycle where I get up and run, stagger home tired and bleary eyed, drink one of those super-duper caffeinated energy drinks to wake-up, get through half the day on a caffeine buzz, crash about mid-day, drink tea to get through the slump and then get my second wind about 7pm which kills any hope of getting into bed before 11pm. The worst part is that my body gives out sometime around Friday afternoon and most of Saturday is spent recovering.

You really would think I would get it together and go to bed. But no, I'm dense. Every night, when the family is in bed and the house is quiet, I say to myself I should go to bed. But then, the quiet of the night lulls me into staying up, just a little longer. I read a little or enjoy having control over the remote and before I know it-- I've cut my sleep by two hours.

Sigh.

There is a bright side though. I don't think I was aware I was awake until after I ran two miles this morning. The third mile was a bitch though.

Can a daughter be too pretty?

You're gonna think I'm just a bragging mom. Maybe I am a little. But I have a seriously gorgeous kid.

See, you think I'm bragging.

But from the time she was an infant I've had people stopping me to comment on how beautiful she is.

You still think I'm just bragging.

I got cornered once in the meat section of the grocery store by four people- who did not know each other- who said they had to come over and look at the gorgeous baby. I am not making this up. I've had a lot of people ask me if she models and even had one woman dig up a magazine to show me a picture of a child who looks amazingly like my kid. I swear she still thinks I'm hiding my child's secret modeling career.

The point of all this is that it's kind of tough to encourage your kid toward a career in medicine while everyone else is saying she ought to model. A couple of weeks ago my husband's family was over at the house and the conversation was something like this.

Great Grandma: Oooooh, look at those long legs, you should be a model dear.

Me: Or a doctor.

Grandma: Oh I know, she could be an actress.

Me: Or a doctor.

Great Grandma: And those eyes, definitely a model.

Me: Or maybe she could GO TO SCHOOL.

*Sigh*

I'm happy my daughter is pretty. Mostly. But I also fear the fact that people (like family) might skew her perception of reality and make her think she doesn't need things like an education. Or a personality.

And don't even get me started on boys.

Ugh!

I hate New Years resolutions. I never make them. Well, mostly. I pretty much resolve to lose weight year round and pretty much gain and lose the same 10 pounds in an endless cycle of self-loathing.

So I threw the scale away. I really did. I just can't live like that anymore; pegging my self-esteem to a number on a scale. I swear, it got so bad that if I weighed myself and I was up 2 pounds I'd be depressed all day.

What kind of life is that I ask you?

I blame my mom. She of the freakishly high metabolism that kept her at about 100lbs her whole adult life and couldn't figure out why I had such a hard time. After all, being skinny is easy, isn't it? I should never have relished in her menopausal weight gain but I did. She stopped griping about my weight for the first time in my life and I got to lecture her about how beneficial a trip to the gym would be. Oh paybacks are a bitch.

I feel like I am in this weird flux state in my life right now. I haven't weighed myself in a couple of months and it's been pretty great. The world didn't end, my clothes still fit and I can make it through the day without a fit of self-loathing. Who knew how liberating ignoring ones weight could be?

Sadly, it does help that my mom is gone (not dead, just out of the country...). I no longer worry about comments about my current hairstyle, clothing or shoes. Yes, I can wear my Croc's without comments about how wide they make my feet look. These are silly little freedoms but you'd be surprised how the little things add up.

I just hope that I have learned something though. I hope I can raise my daughter without so many superficial judgements. I hope I appreciate her for who she is and what she can offer without letting 'appearances sake' get in the way. I've had enough of that for one lifetime.

My Dog is in Lust With Santa Clause

I almost didn't get my dog a Christmas present this year. I've never been one to buy my pets presents on holidays because, well, they're pets! It's not like they're going to know or anything. But when my seven year old daughter asked me what I thought Santa was going to bring Sassy this year, I knew I had to get something for the dog.

So my husband picked up a fairly generic doggie-stocking stuffed with doggie toys and we put it under the tree. At first it didn't really seem like the dog was that into her present. She'd kind of half-heartedly chase the squeaky ball or nose the toy candy-cane around, but no real excitement-- maybe she had been hoping for a new exciting chicken-flavored chewy-- I don't know.

But after a day or so I noticed a new light in the dog's eyes (or at least the one she can see out of). She seemed to be favoring the stuffed-Santa toy. She'd kind of sidle over coyly and gaze at Santa with a look that could only be called adoring.

And then she'd attempt to hump the bejeesus out of the thing.

I didn't know girl dogs did this until Sassy came along. Unfortunately my mom never got her spayed. At first there was a glimmering of an idea to breed the dog, but then it just turned into laziness and the dog was left with these feelings, or yearnings maybe, that can't find expression without a boy dog to help her out.

Apparently Santa is a decent surrogate.

When this slightly alarming behavior started (you try explaining what the dog is doing to Santa to your young children) I had already had Sassy scheduled to be fixed so I didn't worry too much. I assumed the dog's hormones would cool it once she was no longer fertile, but it turns out that was a foolish hope.

I don't know if all dogs will try to hump stuffed animals after being fixed, or if it's behavior that's only common to dogs who are older after being snipped. I doesn't really matter, Sassy still wants to get it on with the guy in red.

But I've had to put the kibosh on her party. It's just too awkward with kids or polite company. So I had to take Santa away.

The dog usually sleeps on our bed at night, but for the last two nights she's slept on the downstairs couch. I don't know if she's in mourning or if she simply isn't speaking to me. Or maybe she knows Santa is sitting on top of the TV and she's hoping he'll come down for a midnight tryst.

I hope I'm not getting in the way of true love.

What a Drama Free Life Looks Like

My parents have been gone a little over a month now and it's HEAVEN I tell you. My mom calls every few days but the phone cards only last 6 minutes so the calls are blissfully short. It's beautiful.

So what have hubby and I done with our new peaceful existence? Did we take up zen meditation to get into tune with our spirits-- or whatever the hell that stuff is for? Heck no! We bought "Guitar Hero."

I have never in my life played video games before. I hate the whole joystick thingy. I cannot push buttons and aim at the same time. I don't know if it's an X chromosome thing (kind of like being directionally challenged) or if I'm just lazy. But "Guitar Hero" rocks (no pun intended)!

I can play a game that lets me hold a guitar and pretend I know how to play it. How great is that? I don't need to know my way around notes or chords or melodies or any of that junk. Nope. I just push the blue button when it appears on screen and music happens! Instant gratification never felt so good.

Blogging is tough though. My hands are all tired and cramped up. The first night I put a brief post up on my sci-fi blog and I could barely type.

But I have found it's a great stress reliever and oddly enough something my husband and I can do together. Yeah, we're dorks. Parent free dorks....

Big shock, they're gonna sue....

I'm sure most of you have heard about the tiger attack at the San Francisco Zoo last week. If you haven't, all you have to do is google San Fransico Zoo and tiger and you'll have all the details you can handle. But in a nutshell, 3 boys were visiting the zoo on Christmas day and according to bystanders were teasing the tiger, which resulted in the animal scaling the wall and killing one boy and mauling the other two.

So, big shocker, the surviving boys (brothers) have retained a lawyer (ambulance chaser Mark Geragos of Scott-Peterson-trial fame) and it's looking a whole lot like they're going to sue the zoo.

What bugs me to no end about this whole thing is that I think the zoo is responsible for the attack despite the fact that the survivors appear to be total tools. The boys haven't spoken to or been cooperative with police at all. I don't know if they have even spoken to the family of the boy who was killed but I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't because their behavior thus far would indicate they are complete assholes.

And if their personalities were taken into account they probably wouldn't get anything from a jury.

But here's the thing. The tiger got over the wall. No matter what those boys did to provoke the tiger the fact is the zoo should have been damn sure that such a dangerous animal couldn't have made it over the wall. Because we're talking about a wild animal, whose to say what could have caught the tiger's eye at any given time and made it curious enough to get out? What if it had been my kid (or yours) on the other side of that enclosure carrying a balloon that made the tiger just curious enough to check it out?

See what I'm getting at?

The zoo takes our money and offers us the spectacle of wild animals on display with the promise of safe viewing. It doesn't matter whether you approve of keeping wild animals in captivity or not, it just is what it is and the zoo didn't ensure the public safety. And now, two complete shitheads will probably walk with a ton of money they don't deserve and a beautiful animal was put to death because the zoo was careless. And lets not forget the boy who was killed. He sounds as if he was the most decent of the bunch. At least, for his parents sake, I hope he was.

Favorite Christmas Movie Quotes

George Bailey: What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary.
Mary: I'll take it. Then what?
George Bailey: Well, then you can swallow it, and it'll all dissolve, see... and the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair... am I talking too much?
~It's a Wonderful Life

Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] Over the years I got to be quite a connoisseur of soap. Though my personal preference was for Lux, I found that Palmolive had a nice, piquant after-dinner flavor - heavy, but with a touch of mellow smoothness. Life Buoy, on the other hand... YECCHH!
~A Christmas Story

Fred Holywell: [on his Uncle Ebenezer] ... His wealth is quite useless to him, really. He doesn't do any good with it; he doesn't even make HIMSELF comfortable with it.
Ebenezer Scrooge: [whom nobody else can see or hear] I haven't SQUANDERED it, if that's what you mean by "making myself comfortable!"
Ghost of Christmas Present: You mustn't argue with those in the right. It's pointless, and even tactless.
Ebenezer Scrooge: Tact is a quality I despise.
Ghost of Christmas Present: *That* I can see.
~A Christmas Carol

Frank Cross: I want to see her nipples.
Censor Lady: But this is a CHRISTMAS show.
Frank Cross: Well, I'm sure Charles Dickens would have wanted to see her nipples.
Guy who works on set: You can barely see them nipples.
Frank Cross: See? And these guys are REALLY looking.
~Scrooged

Kevin McCallister: I took a shower washing every body part with actual soap; including all my major crevices; including in between my toes and in my belly button which I never did before but sort of enjoyed. I washed my hair with adult formula shampoo and used cream rinse for that just-washed shine. I can't seem to find my toothbrush, so I'll pick one up when I go out today. Other than that, I'm in good shape.
~Home Alone

Clark Griswold: Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse.
~Christmas Vacation

Santa: That's another thing... Buddy you should know that your father... he's on the naughty list.
Buddy: Nooooo!
~Elf

John McClane: Merry Christmas, Argyle.
Argyle: Merry Christmas.
Argyle: [Argyle shuts the limo door]
Argyle: Man, if this is their idea of Christmas, I *gotta* be here for New Year's.
~Die Hard
(Yippie-kay-yay, motherfucker is really my favorite, but I was trying for a holiday quote.... )

Have a great holiday everyone!

Who Knew Burger King Was Into S & M?

This site just cracks me up. It's called Subservient Chicken and you have to see it for yourself.

I'm generally too chicken myself to ask him to do more than the chicken dance. Let me know if any of you are brave enough (or clever enough) to come up with some interesting commands.

For Those Who Can Get to New York on Short Notice...

I have movie premier tickets at Madison Square Garden for "I Am Legend" to giveaway on my Sci-fi blog. Go HERE to find out how to enter!

The Light! I Can See the Light!

My parents flew out this morning. They really did it. They really left and I managed to prevent them from moving in with me. How I prevented this miracle tragedy (already drunk while writing this...) is still a mystery to me. Of course, I still need to stay vigilant to make sure that I don't end up with family members mooching off of me later, but I think we've set a good precedent.

I can breath now. I may not even need a bottle of wine to go to bed with. Starting tomorrow...