Archive for the ‘Rants and Randomness’Category

“Decorate Your Blog Like Your High School Locker” Day

Seriously. It’s not like many companies have a “Decorate Your CUBICLE Like Your High School Locker” Day, right? Go ahead. Be jealous. Or grab one of these pics and throw it up onto your computer background for a day. Have some fun with it — it’s friggin TUESDAY. Live a little — nothing ever happens on Tuesday!

Anyway, here’s a peek of what my locker would have had taped to it’s insides, circa 1989-90 (my senior year of high school).


I memorized EVERY BLOODY WORD from Hysteria. Wore a Union Jack tank top with my Guess shorts, and teased my hair relentlessly. To this date, I still re-create Joe Elliott’s moves from the video “Pour Some Sugar On Me” whenever I hear the song. (DON’T JUDGE! You know a rock band with a one-armed drummer is the coolest shit EVER.)



Okay, okay. I loved cheesy hairbands. But don’t hate on Sebastian Bach. Back in the day, his range was tested only by Geoff Tate (who obviously won — I’m not a complete idiot). Look at that hair . . . those pouty lips . . . he even had the “smokey eye” going on long before it was a trend!



No self-proclaimed “Rocker Chic” could have ever made it through high school without a little Jon Bon in her locker. (No . . . really. Have you ever stood next to Jon Bon Jovi? He’s shorter than Tom Cruise.) C’mon, who can resist the song “Livin’ on a Prayer”? Tommy and Gina! They’re gonna make it, right?



I threw that one in there on parent day, to appease the folks and the nuns. I kept it up long afterward, because, c’mon, can I get a glass with that six-pack?



I may have been a die-hard Rocker Chic, but I also knew a classic when I saw one. During high school, I worked for a mom & pop video store. After “Say Anything” had it’s run in the “New Releases” section and was replaced with “Goodfellas,” I snagged the poster. I think it’s still somewhere in my mom & dad’s garage.


Okay, there you have it. My top five locker pin-ups.

I dare you to respond with what you had in YOURS!



07 2011

Filling the Void

Truth be told, my life is not complete unless I’m writing. And I’m not sure why it took so long for me to figure that out.

Maybe because I’ve been so preoccupied this past year, watching almost helplessly as my job, children, and unexpected drama slowly took over my life. It happens. Kids start growing up. Decisions need to be made so they can have a better chance to excel in school and athletics. Dads become coaches. Mom becomes a coach’s wife and supermom all while struggling to remain focused at a job that had doubled its duties and hours. I was a mess.

So I thought, “Something needs to go.” And out went shooting and blogging. I couldn’t keep photography appointments when my days kept getting longer and longer. And I sure as hell couldn’t blog because who the hell has time for THAT anymore, especially if they have a 3-year-old son who keeps trying to poop his pants while hiding in the closet?

BUT, even though I was not writing and shooting, I managed to FACEBOOK AND TWEET LIKE HELL. Updating everyone on just about everything, which helped me keep my sense of humor.

Would love to be on #maternity leave without the hassle of the whole “having a baby” thing. #lazy #badparent

I just watched a dog play the accordion. And no, IM NOT DRUNK.

If there was a doctor who would prescribe it RIGHT THIS MINUTE, I’d totally give Benny ritalin. He just broke a cash register at Costco. Yes, I AM THAT MOM RIGHT NOW.

I told him [the LOML] that I made “#Friday” my ringtone, and he said, “You mean the ‘Just Got Paid’ song?” #seriously

Forgot my phone was in my bra, so u can imagine my surprise when #pandora started up. Music to my boobs! AT WORK. #awkward

In fact, after just about every Facebook post, someone would say, “You need to put that on your blog.” And I’d be all “what blog”? I don’t write anymore! Writing is for people who have time to sit and think and gather thoughts that are RELEVANT. I barely have time to make sure I’m wearing UNDERWEAR before I leave in the morning, let alone be a blogger again. No way. That part of my life is behind me! Right?

What I didn’t realize was that I was, indeed, WRITING. Just in small bursts. Just enough to keep me from losing my mind. And I JUST HAD to share what was happening, because dammit, if I was going to experience the kind of crazy ass shit that was going on in my life, I was going to do it with anyone with a cell phone and a connection to Facebook or Twitter. I did NOT want to be alone.

Whenever I picked up my phone to post something, the LOML would give me one of his “sideways” looks and say, “Now what?” and I’d reply, “It’s the closest thing I can get to blogging. Give a sister a break. I miss it, you know . . .” And then he’d say, “So, go blog,” and then we’d get into it about how we never have time to do anything anymore because we’re so busy. Which was a whole new experience to us, since we weren’t used to arguing.

And just when I thought I was going to go off the deep end, things at the office settled down, and I was back to working the awesome hours that lured me to the company in the first place. I was getting part of my life back.

My afternoons and evenings would be free of my work laptop, and *I* would be free to do other things.

Free to shoot. Free to write. Free to Zumba. Free to start addressing some of the drama that had been piling up.

Free to hit happy hour on the way home.

I don’t know how long this is going to last. But I don’t care. I’m writing and shooting again.

And I am whole.


07 2011

Wait . . . THAT’S What You Called Me About?

Here is a list of things that, over the course of the past few weeks, the LOML accidentally on purpose forgot to tell me about:

  1. Benny fell off of the back of the couch ONTO THE TILE FLOOR.
    “Oh, yeah. You may want to keep an eye on him because I didn’t EXACTLY see the fall, but it sounded awful. He could have a concussion, but his eyes look okay and he seems to be playing okay. What’s for dinner?”
  2. I got a parking ticket. TWO MONTHS AGO.
    “I’ll just get work to cover it. But we need to pay it by tonight or else we’ll have to pay a penalty. And then I can just turn in the receipt.” (I’m still waiting for the reimbursement…)
  3. I kind of, sort of, maybe volunteered you to help with the Jr. Pee Wee website. Why do you ask? I bet you someone said something at practice . . . I was supposed to tell you a couple of weeks ago. My bad.
    “Okay, so they don’t actually HAVE a website. But you built one for the school, right? How hard can it be to do it again? I mean, really?”
  4. I found Benny at the sink, washing off your phone.
    “You know, I meant to say something to you when I called you today, but then your phone cut out and I forgot . . .”
  5. You don’t have to Febreeze Jake’s (football) pads.
    “What are you doing? You should just be throwing those in the wash. Oh, wait. It was me who said you should take them out before washing them, huh? But then I asked the team mom about it and she said to just throw the pants and girdle in the wash with their pads inside. But you can still Febreeze the shoulder pads. How long you been doing that, anyway?”

I know, right?

But here’s why I bring all this up:

Today he CALLED ME AT WORK. A rare occasion, which usually means something is wrong or that he has to work late. Just to clarify, HE called ME.

And it wasn’t that he got in a crash or someone died or was on his way to the ER because Benny had finally broken a bone.


“What? Are you okay? What’s the matter?”

“I just saw the trailer for the new Resident Evil movie. It looks [sing-songy] SA-WEEEEEET!”


“Yeah, I know, huh?! I didn’t know either. I’m TOTALLY going.”

“I’m hanging up now.”


The LOML frying piroshkis at the 2010 Holy Cross Festival

Just look at him. How can you stay mad at that face?


I Always Do This . . .

Yeah, it’s me again. Guilty of allowing my blog to collect dust and then suddenly I’m back. And here is where I’d normally say something like, “Oh, yeah, I’m sooooo sorry for not writing. This thing called life kind of got in the way but I promise to get better.”

And then, of course, I do for a while, and then something will happen, and then I stop again for a while . . . and then all of the sudden I’m on some weird blog diet and I write for shorter periods of time (exercise) and I go away for longer periods of time (off the wagon) and then all of the sudden I’M NOT WRITING AT ALL. And it probably would have stayed that way for a while but I received an email from a MAJOR MOM BLOGGER (whom I promised would remain anonymous) asking, “What happened to your blog? Why aren’t you shooting anymore?” And I’m all, “YOU WERE READING MY BLOG?”

It was kind of like writing about my family and pulling together a manuscript and mailing it to publishers and three months later — after giving up hope of ever getting printed — receiving a call from Vanity Fair.


And it’s not like I didn’t have REALLY GOOD REASONS for not writing. Or shooting.

For example, I broke my beloved Nikon back in May.

Yes. IN MAY. And it took me a long time to get over the fact that I broke it so hard that it almost couldn’t be repaired.

I was devastated. So much so that I almost let it depress me in a bad way. Like, having to take drugs to make it better kind of way. I let it affect my writing. And posting. I thought, “How can I tell a decent story without adding any of my own photos for emphasis.” And then I decided that I shouldn’t write because I couldn’t shoot.

As if I needed my camera so I could write. It brings to mind the old saying, “I only smoke when I drink!”

Then I decided that I’d leave the company that taught me how to save a life by sitting in a chair for 30 minutes and go work for a small outfit named PEPSI.

Which was an awesome move, considering I can do some work from home when I want as long as I get a certain portion of it done by SIX THIRTY IN THE MORNING. Which means I’m done for the day a few times a week by 2:30pm. Not a bad deal.

THEN, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate, I decided to go back to school. I even REGISTERED and stuff!

But then, I got calls to do a few photo shoots, and it had been SOOOO LONNNNNG since I held a camera that I didn’t think I could even swing it.

So I threw caution to the wind and rented a rig and for the first time in WEEKS, my soul felt warm. Not that it had been cold or dead or anything melancholy like that . . . I mean that, when I held the camera in my hands and began to JUST SHOOT — anyone or anything — it just FELT RIGHT.

Which REALLY threw me for a loop because I had gotten into the mindset of being a working student. But I decided to put that on hold because photography IS A PAYING GIG.

Then came the email from one of my favorite bloggers.

My wake-up call.

She didn’t take my sorry ass reasons for not writing as excuses and said, “The Mama I knew would have found a way to shoot with her nose or write with her teeth if her hands got chopped off. Where’s THAT woman at?”

And I was all, “Hell frickin’ YEAH I’d have done that!”

So, here I am.

Writing with my teeth. And ready to show off some photos taken with my nose.

I can do that, you know . . . now that I’ve got a NEW camera . . .


08 2010

See What Happens When You Go Out to Dinner?

Wednesday, March 10

Dear Diary: What a great day! The LOML & I took the boys to BJ’s for a splurge dinner and had an awesome time. After wiping down our table (it was a little dirty) we ordered our food and colored and the boys put their napkins around their head and pretended to be princesses. Oh! And Jake didn’t back up their toilet either! Mama also got to see her favorite bartenders. After dinner we told stories, had a bath, and then went to bed.

That blur is the closest thing we get to Benzilla being still at dinner time.

Thursday, March 11

Dear Diary: Uh, what into the hell? I woke up with MAJOR CONTACT DERMATITIS. My hands were so swollen that I could barely bend my fingers! What could I have touched? Who knows. Have to go to work, so, I took some Benadryl and headed out.

If Princess Fiona was human, this is probably what her hands would look like.

Tried to have a normal morning but when one of the staff doctors got wind of what my hands looked like he sent me to a local urgent care facility to have my ring cut off. Apparently when there’s no blood circulating through your hand you can lose a finger. Imagine that!

Okay, so here’s the before picture:

It's like I pressed a button and all of the sudden my ring got five sizes too small.

And here’s the ring after the physician’s assistant sawed it off. It took two sets of forcepts to bend that sucker enough to get around all the swelling.

That's three generations of gold, platinum, and diamonds. All cut up and bent like a dime store prize ring.

And this is what my hand looked like afterward. When the physician’s assistant saw my hand, he exclaimed, “Whoa! That TOTALLY needed to come off, didn’t it! Wow . . . one or two more hours and we’d have had some serious damage. Seeer-eee-usss damage. Good thing you came in when you did!!” And my immediate reaction was to run like hell and never come back since the physician’s assistant was starting to sound a little too much like he was having an excellent adventure. I ran so fast that I forgot to get a cortisone shot. I’m such a dumb ass sometimes, aren’t I, diary?!

Got circulation?

Friday, March 12

Dear Diary: Okay. This is totally getting old. After having a total blast at Red Robin (yum!), and after packing everyone up in the truck,  I notice a grape-sized welt behind my right ear. Then I looked down at my hands, and saw more red spots. And then I realized they were itchy and swollen again!! WHAT INTO THE HELL?!! So I had the LOML drive me to a nearby Med7 for a cortisone shot and get all this crap taken care of. I have no idea what I touched. Let’s see . . . we wiped the table down, had onion rings, had burgers, paid the bill . . . am I newly allergic to onions? No . . . then my throat would be swollen too. Maybe I’m newly allergic to thermal image paper and should have the LOML start paying for everything. Hmm.

I’ve got no photos to share from the Med7 visit, since the physician’s assistant there had the pleasure of having to see my naked butt in order to give me a cortisone shot. And he was not up to taking a picture of THAT for Facebook. Trust me. I asked.

Saturday, March 13

Dear Diary: MYSTERY SOLVED! While at the furniture store, I noticed that my hands, again, were full of red spots and starting to swell. Moreso my RIGHT hand than my left. Then I realized what the common thread was in all of this: HUGGIES WIPES!! Remember?! At BJ’s, I wiped down the table (then my hands, then Benny’s hands). At Red Robin, I wiped down the table (then my hands, then Benny’s hands). And today, the only thing I’d done before heading out was change Benny’s diaper. It HAD to be the wipes!  Oh! And this is what my hand looked like this time:

Dude! I am so totally allergic to my kids!

Okay, so maybe I’m not allergic to my kids (as my cousin suggested). Nor am I allergic to dining out (although that could probably save us about $75 a month). But I will tell you this: After telling the LOML that, until we switched out ALL of the wipes in the house, HE’D be doing all the diaper changing, it took him less than 20 minutes to find some hypoallergenic fragrance free dye free wipes. Damn that Walgreens for being open 24 hours . . .

* * * * * * *

One more thing – in my previous post, I mentioned that I’d be discussing the details about my illness that kept me in bed for most of last week (after a visit to the ER, two I.V. bags, a mondo shot of Tramadol, and a cat scan, the doctors determined it was either a really bad case of the stomach flu or gastroenteritis. It’s been 13 days and I’m STILL experiencing some of the more, let’s say, “unpleasant” effects). Anyhoo, after writing it all out, re-working it, re-reading it, and editing some more, I realized it wasn’t all that funny. And I wanted it to be funny. So I scrapped it.


03 2010