Rain Rain Go Away


It’s pouring in Southern California. I guess winter finally made an appearance. I personally don’t mind the rain- it’s the only weather change we experience around here. Well wait, maybe I mean I don’t mind the rain when I’m lying in my bed, eating bonbons and watching Ellen. I DO mind the rain when I have to join society and drive on the streets with Californians. Good God, are they scared of the rain! Total shit-for-brains. It’s not sleet, people. It’s rain.

My mom left this morning. We had a great mother/daughter weekend, except it wasn’t a mother/daughter weekend. It was a mother/daughter/son-in-law weekend. Yes, D was supposed to be in Las Vegas for a bachelor party ensuring our fabulous all-girls rendezvous, but those plans were scrapped when he woke up hurling from food poisoning on Friday morning. When my mother called to tell my father the situation, he casually asked her if I had poisoned D’s food to keep him from frequenting the titty bars, to which she replied, “Probably”.

OH, THANKS FOR THE VOTE OF CONFIDENCE. Although, seriously, why didn’t I think of that? Kidding, people. I kid. Or maybe not. Hahaha, MWAHHAHAAAA!

He was in some pretty disgusting form all weekend. Our toilet was working overtime in the most heinous way. How fun for my mom!! But did that stop the shopping bonanza? HELL NO! And I plan on showing you all my new baby gear when I get my ass out of my comfy bed and take photos (which isn’t going to be until tomorrow).

Until then, I will ponder why Goldfish crackers leave such a shitty taste in my mouth.


Queen Bee Arrives Soon


This is a quick post because my mom will be arriving in Orange County in less than 2 hours. I am seriously jazzed. It’s a bonafide mom/daughter weekend free of any men. Do you know what that means?


Not only is my mom fantastic in every way possible, but she is already spoiling the shit out of whoorlito. Every week while chatting on the phone, she will mention oh-so-casually “I think the baby is going to get a present today…”

Within an hour or two, the UPS man is knocking on my door with things like this


Um yeah, it has fucking darling froggies on it.


And she doesn’t discriminate against other animals, such as ducks.


Calling geisha services…


I’m not sure what animal this is, but HELL it’s a cute bath wrap.


The softest blanket ever.


Are you catching my drift? The woman has gone BABY CRAZY. And she is about to experience the Baby Boutique Mecca of the West Coast. Hell yes.


Seven Things


Hey, Sarcomical! Remember when you tagged me with this meme in 1989? Oh, you forgot? Yeah, I kind of forgot, too. Until TODAY, my friend.

Seven Things To Do Before I Die:
1. Spend at least one month in Italy.
2. Live closer to my family.
3. Be a loving, funny and “in-touch” mother.
4. Paint.
5. Be an excellent cook.
6. Host dinner parties with all sorts of interesting guests.
7. Tell my grandchildren stories that completely captivate their attention.

Seven Things I Cannot Do:
1. Get on a plane without touching the outside of it while boarding.
2. Sleep late.
3. Drive leisurely.
4. Watch television for more than 12 minutes at a time.
5. Stay away from the internet for more than 2 hours at a time.
6. Talk on the phone without pacing the house.
7. Surf. And I live 5 minutes from the ocean. Gah!

Seven Things That Attract Me to Blogging:
1. Keeping an online account of my life experiences. Bonus if people find it entertaining.
2. Meeting Friendternets (© Sarcomical).
3. It’s a great way to clear my jumbled thoughts.
4. This.
5. And That.
6. And That.
7. And That.

Seven Things I Say Most Often:
1. Gaawwwddddd (while exhaling loudly and rolling eyes).
2. I don’t feel well (thanks Dad for the reminder).
3. You rock!
4. I’m freezing.
5. I’m hungry.
6. This sucks donkey balls.
7. I can’t believe (insert random fact).

Seven Books I Love:
1. The Pregnancy Journal – Christine Harris
2. The Witching Hour – Anne Rice
3. Cry to Heaven – Anne Rice
4. The Time Traveler’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
4. The Baby Name Wizard – Laura Wattenberg
5. 501 Italian Verbs – John Colaneri
6. Do periodicals count?
7. Who do you think I am? Jurgen Nation? Shit.

Seven Movies/DVDs That I Watch Over and Over Again:
1. Dream For An Insomniac
2. Cinema Paradiso
3. Secretary
4. The Royal Tenenbaums
5. Down With Love
6. Sex and the City (except season 5…boooring)
7. Like Water For Chocolate

Seven People I Want To Join In (unless you’ve already done it, in which I apologize profusely for not paying attention to your fabulous entries):
1. Shana
2. Kris
3. Stacy
4. Alicat
5. Sizzle
6. Molly
7. Nabbalicious


Post Office Blues


D forced me to accompany him to the neighborhood post office this weekend. I almost died a thousand deaths. I despise our neighborhood post office. It smells of mothballs and Polident, and you have to take a fucking PAPER TICKET with a number printed on it and wait your turn like in the 1950’s or something. No line, no organization, just a trillion absent-minded peeps waiting around for their number to be called. Total bullshit.

Why am I so passionate about being forced to visit our crappy post office? Well, mainly because if you drive an extra 5 minutes from our home, you can experience the NEW FABULOUS Post Office, which doesn’t smell like Polident! And has an AUTOMATED POSTAL MACHINE! As Ferris would say, it is sooo choice. I can walk in, walk up to a machine, place my package on the scale and do all of my business with an automated teller. Need insurance or delivery confirmation? No problem. Oversized package? Bring it on. This machine does everything a postal worker could do minus the stinky postal worker breath in my face. Just me and the machine. And the best part? Everyone is scared to use it! Like it’s going to sprout teeth and eat them in one big munch. Over the holidays, I would shimmy past thirty to forty people standing in line, straight up to my shiny automated friend and get down to business. The people in line would look at me, and then at each other, thinking, “What is she doing over there?”, “Can I do that?”, “Oh, I’m afraid. It might sprout monster teeth and eat me”. I would finish in about 3 minutes, turn around, look at the line that hadn’t moved one inch, and smirk. Yes, I am the smirky girl at the post office, but C’MON! How could you not smirk at forty oblivious suckahs standing in line with their packages for days on end!

One day, an older gentleman summoned the courage to saunter over and check out what I was doing. He said something to the effect of “Oh, you youngins and your computers…I wish I could do that.”

Um, it’s a fucking touch screen, not a complex code of software engineering. Good God.

Hey, not that I’m complaining. I hope the majority of Americans never learn how to use the automated teller, thus ensuring many more pleasant days at the United States Post Office. Peace.