Mama Cleo

Back when I was in college and discovering/exploring new things in the universe (ie: looking past my Roman Catholic upbringing), I discovered Tarot. I know there are a lot of people who equate tarot with Mama Cleo and fake fortune tellers, but Tarot and the power of the cards has survived for centuries before that fake Jamaican actress. THERE ARE MANY WAYS TO HEAR THE VOICE OF THE DIVINE...

Tarot is one of those things that you can do....or you can't. No ifs, ands or buts. When I decided to pick it up and try it, I wanted to use it as a spiritual tool. So, before I laid out a spread for my guinea pigs (family and friends), I said (still say) a prayer to the Holy Spirit and ask that they help me to communicate the message that God wants the person to hear.

Surprises of suprises, I was actually REALLY good at it. So, I decided to go commercial (big F'in mistake). This was the late-90's before the fall of Cleo. (I actually worked about a month for Mama Cleo's sight and quit when they didn't pay me.) They were a bunch of fakes and I didn't want anything to do with it. After getting the "Training Manual" I realized that the majority of people who worked for her were absolute idiots and the manual encouraged you to lie and tell the querant what they wanted to hear. That's not the spirit of God and I couldn't take it.

Still, I knew I had a gift. Still, I knew I had helped some people realize what they already knew. I wasn't going to give up. After the Cleo-Catastrophe I researched a bit further and found a different Tarot line.

Before they allowed me on the line, they sent me through and interview and a test (novel idea, huh?). I had to get on the phone line with someone, not knowing if they were male or female, nothing about them at all, and lay out the Celtic Cross Spread. If I wasn't 100% accurate in my reading, they wouldn't offer me a job.

I did it. And God how I regret it. Every reading I gave was fine until one night a girl who was living in California came on the line. Her first question was whether or not her boyfriend could find out what it was she talked about. I told her no, but the number would show up on the phone bill.

She was scared. I started laying out her cards and stopped.

I told her I could see she was in trouble. I asked her who it was that was dangerous to her.

She told me her story about how she came to California with her current boyfriend, who had apparently killed her ex boyfriend in Ohio (a drug deal gone VERY bad). She was worried her was going to turn on her and hurt her.

I didn't need my cards for this one. I told her to hang up the phone, go somewhere safe and go home to her mom in Ohio. I've never had an intuition stronger in my life than this. If she didn't do exactly what I said, she was going to die.

I spent a half an hour on the phone, desperately telling her to do what I said, and to this day, 8.5 years later, I'll never know if she followed my advice.

I saw her death in my cards, (the only time I've ever seen it, Tarot doesn't work that way) and felt it in her situation and I only hope she listened.

I hung up my cards that night. At least in regards to strangers. I didn't even touch them for months after that reading, no matter how desperate my friends were for advice.

I couldn't and I wouldn't. I still to this day pray for that girl, so many years and miles away....

I hope she listened to me. I pray for her, that she did...

Because one Friday Meme Isn't Enough

Friday Fill-ins

1. Some relationships are meant to _end badly_.
2. _The Violent Femmes last fall_ is the last concert I saw; it was _incredibly AWESOME_.
3. Spring should be _skipped over so we go straight to Summer_.
4. Oh no! I forgot _to call Erin last night_!
5. I've recently started _blogging away the conversations I have in my head_.
6. _Darling Daughter_ never fails to make me smile.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to _laying on the couch watching tv_, tomorrow my plans include _cleaning, laundry and hanging out with some very cool people_ and Sunday, I want to _just relax and take Darling Daughter to the park_!

Friday Feast!

Appetizer
What does the color dark green make you think of?
The really, really warm and cozy comforter I had when I was in high school and forest green and burgandy were the hip colors

Soup
How many cousins do you have?
9

Salad
On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being highest, how honest are you?
8.5 I'm brutally honest about pretty much everything, but I still will sneak in the "Oh, that's such a pretty color on you" comment every so often.

Main Course
Name something that is truly free.
I've only got cheesy stuff for this one: beautiful sunsets, smiles, and my daughter's hugs

Dessert
Using the letters in the word SPRING, write a sentence.
Sometimes Problems Reveal Ideas Never Guessed.

(Softball) Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend

Dear Little Softball Field Down the Street,

I've missed you too. I've heard you calling to me in the depths of winter under that blanket of snow. Right now you're really muddy, but soon, very soon, I'll come play on you. Darling Daughter is ready. She got her very first wiffle ball and bat from the Easter Bunny. She's taken some practice swings in the back yard and she's really quite good. And you know how great she can throw, so I'm thinking she's going to be the next Jennie Finch, don't you? I've got my glove all ready and Handsome pulled out the "gear" from the closet when he was searching for DD's helmet (for her tricyle adventure) the other day. Soon, softball, soon.

Love,
Moxie Mama

There are very few things I love in life more than softball. March is always the month where my palms start itching for my glove and I start hunting down my glove and bat and softballs. Baseball/Softball is a second religion in my family. As soon as we were old enough to pick up a ball, all five of us were ready. My dad coached all of our Little League/Powder Puff teams at some point and I went on to play 2 years in college. (I quit the team when I decided on double majoring. I wasn't the next Jennie Finch and 2 demanding degrees was enough to keep me busy). I'm glad my mom taught my sisters and I how to wear high heels and my dad taught us to wear cleats. We're well rounded like that, I guess.

My lust for the field must be hereditary. Every spring I could see my dad getting more and more excited as the season approached. His father (my grandfather) is such a fanatic that back in the 1950's he really did build a Field of Dreams (but in a Kansas cornfield, not Iowa) for my dad and the neighborhood kids. Many nights of my childhood I was lulled to sleep by the sweet, sweet purr of Harry Carey/Denny Matthew's voice. To this day, when I hear Denny Matthew's voice, I am instantly sleepy.

When we were growing up, my dad always would gather us up and take us up to the local field to practice. While I kind of hated getting up that early every Sat. morning in summers, I was glad we did when I got older. That was one of the best family bonding memories I still have in a family relationship that isn't all that great anymore.

One of my stipulations before marrying Handsome was that he had to be able to not only play, but LOVE baseball as much as I do. The first time I saw him park the ball over the fence, my heart was his, forever more. I even forgive him for being a Cardinals fan despite living in Kansas City for over 11 years.

DD was born on the opening day of the 2004 Summer Olympics. The first couple of weeks of her life we did little more than eat, sleep, pee, poop, cry and watch the Olympics. Having a brand new baby, what do you say to them past "I love you" "You're the most beautiful thing in the universe" and "I can't believe you're ours"? So I talked to her about softball. We watched swimming and diving too, but it was Jennie Finch and the US Women's Softball team that had our rapt attention.

As the weather is finally warming up a bit outside, I'm looking forward to baseball/softball season. I can't wait the first day I get to play. The smell of the infield chalked out, the sound of the crack of a bat, the sting of the ball hitting my glove. Ahhh...I'm ready!

It's Merely the Shell of My Soul, So What's the Big Deal?

Wow, I was blown away by Sizzle's latest post. She is such an incredible blogger and what a familiar and painful story. She fully gets the Moxie Mama Seal of Approval for being so brave as to share that.

Her story made me think of my own. I never struggled with my weight until my sophomore year of college. I was date raped (and told no one at that point) and found out a week later that I was on a fraternity's Top Ten Sex List. (Yes, my rapist was in the frat). This sent me spiraling out of control. Over the next year I gained 60 pounds to hide myself away so that would never happen to me again.

Over the last 11 and a half years I've yoyo-ed all over the scale from 132 to 230. I'm not kidding. The scariest part was when I was nine months pregnant with Darling Daughter and STILL 30 pounds lighter than when I was at my heaviest.

While Handsome Hubby has never made an issue of my weight (He says, "My love for you only comes in one size: XXL") my family has always badgered me about it. My mother destroyed what little self esteem I had left after the rape and it's only been through Handsome's constant support and the love of my friends that I've healed that part of my life.

I hate dieting. I'm still doing it, I'm almost within spitting distance of a healthy BMI and have just 30 pounds to go to my ideal weight. But even when I get there, I know that I'm going to struggle with this for the rest of my life. And that's so depressing.

One of my favorite John Denver (I know, cheesy, but I love him) songs is called "Eagles and Horses". One of my favorite lines is, "My body is merely the shell of my soul, but the flesh must be given it's due"

For me, this means not losing weight to be attractive, but losing weight to be healthy. When I'm heavy, there are times I get depressed looking in the mirror and have to remind myself that my body is just the shell of my soul, the part of me that REALLY matters is inside.

So what's society's hang up with weight? Some of the most beautiful women I know aren't a size 5 (or even a size 16). My friend and I used to kid that if we were in a Reubenesque painting, we'd be super models.

I worry about Darling Daughter. While she's 3 and a perfectly healthy weight, I hope I'm always able to let her know that she is beautiful deep down inside of her even if she doesn't look like Hannah Montana (or whoever it is by then).

Just my random thoughts as I contemplate my Healthy Choice frozen lunch...sigh.

Darling Daughter

She is truly the most beautiful thing in the world to me. I'm so lucky she's my daughter. I hope she still feels like I'm the greatest Mama in the world when she's 30.

Trippy, Trippy Political Dreams

I've been waiting until I FINALLY finished my "If Barack Came to Dinner..." post to discuss this, but, this website is too crazy to pass up!

Let's say you have a wild dream about one of the candidates. It's 2 am and you HAVE to share it with SOMEBODY! Well, everyone you know is asleep. That's ok. You can share your crazy wild dream with the entire world.

A few dreams:

A guy who dreamt that he was finger painting during a war with Hillary who invited him to a Hillary pep rally

A 30 yr old woman who calmed from a temper tantrum by dancing with Barack

A guy who had a dream that Billy Idol and John McCain were really the same guy and while McCain was supposed to be at the Hanoi Hilton, he was really living the rock star life

I can be such a voyeur sometimes, but this is truly interesting. Based just on how many dreams people have submitted since Feb/March of this year, here's how the unconscious of America will vote:

Barack: 101 dream votes
Hillary: 91 dream votes (it's a close race)
John McCain: 6 dream votes (to be fair, his site was started in March while the other 2 were started in Feb. But STILL, not very dreamy!)

So there you have it. Barack is dreamiest. Just ask my neighbor.


Anywho, I feel boring. I haven't dreamt of any of them. Maybe I need to try the Homer Simpson method of transcendental lucid dreaming. (Remember the episode where he's at the Chili Cook Off and he eats Chief Wiggum's Guatemalan insanity peppers, passes out and goes into a weird dream. He hooks up with that crazy coyote spirit guide who tries to help him realize Marge is his real soul mate.)

Anyway, check out the site, enjoy, add something to it if you can. I'll let you know if I dream of any of them.

Wrap Up of the Dinnertime Chats

I'm still waiting for my Super Candidate.

There are things that I like/hate about each of the candidates and while I thought envisioning having each over for dinner would help me make up my mind of the lesser of 3 evils, it really hasn't.

There's probably no way on earth anybody could convince me to vote for Hillary. I like some stuff about McCain, but I really don't want another Republican in office. I really like some things about Barack, I just don't think he's ready yet to clean up the mess the next president is going to have to fix.

So, I'm back to the drawing board. I still have 7+ months to decide. I'm not sweating yet.

If Barack Obama Came To Dinner....

I think I would enjoy this dinner the most. Obama's got that "Cult of Personality" thing going for him...

Barack would probably arrive just a minute or two late, but we can't really blame him for that. What, with our neighbor from across the street accosting him with her adulation? She's pretty sure he's the Democratic Messiah and it was kind of embarrassing when we had to get the garden hose out just so she'd let go of his leg, but he eventually makes it into the house.

Darling Daughter immediately flocks to him and climbs up into his lap. She gives him a hug and introduces him to No Fuss Gus. They become instant friends and they watch Curious George on PBS while Handsome and I get dinner ready.

Barack had specifically asked for take out barbeque because he didn't want to put us to any trouble. So, we're having Gates (with Cheesy Corn smuggled in from Jack Stack). C'mon! What's more Kansas City than Gates BBQ and Boulevard Wheat? Nuthin' I tell ya.

Dinner is ready in a flash and we all decide that it would be nicer to eat in the living room and watch American Idol. (No, I promised to keep it a State Secret who he really wants to win.) DD shares her fries with Barack (a major sign of trust) and I tightly seal the curtains on the front windows against our neighbor (but we can still see her shadow, so it's kind of creepy).

Mid-way thru dinner, I ask him, "So, Barack, I've really liked you ever since I listened to your speech at the '04 DNC. But seriously, what's this whole 'Hope' thing all about? I don't get it."

....and you could hear the crickets chirpping...

He stares at me blankly and asks me, "Don't you have hope the country is going to get better if we all work together?"

I answer, "Well, sure I do."

He asks, "Don't you think I'd make a good president?"

I look at Handsome, who winces, knowing I'm going to be truthful...
"Well, as a sort of decent but mostly lapsing Catholic, I disagree with your stances on school vouchers, illegal immigration, abortion, and stem cell research.

I'm pretty good with your health care, Iraq, gay marriage, the environment, and civil liberties. I like that you preach a message to parents to be responsible for their children.

Do I think you can pull it all off? No offense, but not really. If you ran in another 8 years, I would vote for you in a heartbeat. I don't think you have the political allies or experience built up enough. As an average American, I've spent the last 8 years suffering under an inexperienced, one term governor. And, while, you are most certainly no George W. Bush, I'd like to love you, not just like-you like-you as President. I don't envy anybody who has to take over in Jan. of 2008. They better come in with a hell of big shovel to help dig us out of the hole we're in."

Barack just smiles at me and says, "Well, we'll just agree to disagree. You'll come around and be swept up with the flooding tide of American enthusiasm for change."

"Ok, dude. Sure. Hope that happens."

Barack turns to Handsome and asks, "Well, how 'bout you? Do you think I'd do ok?"

Handsome, always the politician himself, replies, "Sure, I don't follow politics all that closely, and I'm not really sure where you stand on the issues, but you seem like a nice enough guy."

DD, bored to tears by grown-up talk, begs to play Guitar Hero, so we do. Or at least, Handsome, DD and Barack do. DD's pretty rockin' at it for a 3 yr. old and Barack can really tear up "Sweet Child of Mine".

It's DD's bedtime and Barack tucks her and Gus into bed after reading some of the more dream-enhancing parts of "Audacity of Hope".

After giving Handsome and I hugs, thanking us for a lovely evening and telling us we should get together again real soon, he makes sure his Secret Service agents are posted outside and make a mad dash for his idling car before our 50-year old Obama Girl neighbor can mob him again.

Gas It Up On Wednesdays

Consider this you Public Service Announcement for the day...

Apparently, if you're looking to save some of your hard earned cash, you should buy gas on Wednesday mornings on the Missouri side of State Line.

I heard gas prices could go higher than $4 a gallon this summer...

Ugh.

Anyway, hope this helps.

Survivor: Family Holiday Edition

(note about above photo...YES PLEASE! How glorious!)

Thank God Easter is over! Darling Daughter is chocolate saturated, Grandma spoiled, and cheap-crap toy enhanced. Personally, Handsome and I are EXHAUSTED after 3 egg hunts, church, a visit with my mother, and seeing a show yesterday.

Holidays are fun, right? Until you have kids and then they are exhausting and fun and magical for them, or something.

Guess what I'm doing next weekend? NOTHING! Handsome and I are already planning on sitting on our butts, listless telling DD to "Stop it, or you're going to Time Out!" In other words, unless something better comes along, we're relaxing.

The only disappointing thing about Easter this year was the fact that I heard NOT ONE Cadbury Egg commercial. Not one...a bunny that sounds like a chicken? Cute kids saying "Thank you, Easter Bunny"?

Priceless.

I guess there's always next year!

Broken Hearts . . .

You want a heart? You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.



Tonight, being Good Friday evening, instead of being at church like a good Catholic, I'm at home in a funk. Painful memories from the past are swirling around me like ghosts of things I've put away, but still remember.

Years and years ago, when Handsome and I were still just dating, we broke our engagement abruptly. It was for the best and we needed time to seperate and get our deeper shit in order within ourselves. It probably saved our future marriage. The course of true love never runs straight and all that happy horseshit...Nevertheless it was of soap opera dramatics and friend splitting theatrics. We were the "Luke and Laura" of our peer group, the couple that would always be together. People were shocked, but it needed to happen. He needed to learn that I'm the most important person in the world to him and I needed to learn that I didn't need to be so possessive.

My birthday fell on Good Friday that year. I had been out on a distraction-from-Handsome date and when I came home, while my date was still there, Handsome's mother called me to wish me a "Happy Birthday", but it ended up being a sobfest because she was upset we weren't coming to their house for Easter and she was so upset by how Handsome and my relationship turned out. She had already accepted me as a daughter. We both end up crying, me mostly because Handsome didn't even call my on the day and even though we were broken up, it still hurt.

All the while, my date is downstairs waiting for me to finish talking to my ex-soon-to-be Mother-in-Law. I realized that night that I wasn't being fair to my date since I wasn't over Handsome. A week or so later I broke it off.

Handsome and I obviously got back together and got married and had Darling Daughter. I was grateful for the time apart, but that 2.5 months were some of the hardest of my life.

Maybe I'm down tonight because Handsome's brother just broke it off with his long time girlfriend. She's not taking it well at all, even though they both know it was never going to turn into marriage. I see a lot of similarities of her reactions to my own. She's even about the same age I was when Handsome and I broke up.

My heart goes out to her, but I don't know what to say that she'll listen to. I had a friend of mine tell me during our break up that "This will either make or break you guys" and he was right.

People are so careless sometimes with other people's hearts. So many marriages end that maybe could have been fixed if they both tried. Some are just unfixable. Popular culture encourages infidelity and society tells us to put our needs above others. If everybody is doing that, how can relationships stay strong?

I was disturbed by a post I saw on the KC Star's mom2mom blog this week from a woman who is the wife of an Iraq War vet. The lady was reaching out saying how hard it was to keep her marriage together while suffering PTSD as well as his issues. So many of the "supportive women" told her to take care of herself and her daughter before being there for her husband.

As the daughter of a Vietnam Vet, I've watched my mother lovingly support my father and all of the issues he brought back with him for all of the almost 31 years of my life. I've been amazed by her courage and selflessness (a rarity for her, but it shows how much she loves him). You do the impossible for those you love sometimes.

Unless the guy is a physical/emotional threat to her or her daughter, why shouldn't she stand by her husband and put him first, if not for just a little while? The pain of war eases in time. There's too much of a "grab the baby and run" mentality sometimes, I think.

I'll leave you with the ultimate sad, broken heart song, Linda Ronstadt's "Long, Long Time"...



Followed closely by the Indigo Girls' "Ghost"

Man, I'm depressing this evening.

Personality Test...hmm.

Don't know if this is the real me, but ok...


My Personality

Neuroticism	47
Extraversion	78
Openness to Experience	72
Agreeableness	50
Conscientiousness	56

You do not feel nervous in social situations, and have a good impression of what others think of you, however you feel strong cravings and urges that you have difficulty resisting. You tend to prefer short-term pleasures and rewards over long-term consequences. You generally make friends easily enough although you mostly don't go out of your way to demonstrate positive feelings toward others. You like the security of tradition, but sometimes have a desire to bend the rules and challenge conventional thinking. You find helping other people genuinely rewarding and are generally willing to assist those who are in need. You find that doing things for others is a form of self-fulfillment rather than self-sacrifice, however you do not enjoy confrontation, but you will stand up for yourself or push your point if you feel it is important. You take your time when making decisions and will deliberate on all the possible consequences and alternatives.

Take a Personality Test now or view the full Personality Report. PureAwakening Jewelry.

Spring is officially here! Yipee-Ki-Ya!

I'll get to Obama's dinner a little later....

It's the Spring Equinox. I don't care if it's supposed to snow this weekend. It's official. IT'S SPRING! Praise Baby Jesus, the Easter Bunny and Mother Nature. It's a beautiful KC day and after this horrible crap of a winter, Spring is...um...springing.

SCREW YOU WINTER! Sunshine and warmth and plants and stuff are back! It makes me itchy for sandals and playing softball.

That's it. After I go and cut some radio spots, Mama's playing hooky. Well, I'll take stuff home and do it tonight.

If Hillary Came to Dinner . . .

I had to really think about this one...

Hillary would of course show up precisely on time and enthusiastically hug Handsome Hubby and I like we were her BFF's. She would bring flowers, a bottle of white wine (after one of her handlers called to find out what I was preparing for dinner) and a signed copy of her book, "Living History" as gifts. (Handsome Hubby and I are a little disappointed Bill didn't come with her...)

I apologize for how messy the house is, but Hillary brushes it aside and says, "I understand how hard it is to be a working mom. You should have seen the messes Chelsea and Bill would make!"

She would condescend to DD's level and tell her that she likes DD's pig tails and ask the name of her little blue lizard lovey (No Fuss Gus, if you're curious.) She would then try to hug DD, who has never been receptive to strangers getting up in her face and certainly not one as intimidating as Hillary, causing DD to scamper off to her room.

Hillary then asks if she can help with supper and I let her set the table. We engage in small talk, complete with reminscent memories of Chelsea when she "was that age" and I ask her advice about how to get DD to eat something besides chicken, hot dogs and breakfast bars. She dances around the issue and vaguely tells me she never had that problem with her daughter, but when she's elected president, she will reform the Department of Education's nutrition curriculum and pressure Congress to stop advertisers from infiltrating children's television. (I don't remind her that I'm a marketer).

We're having caesar salad, my famous Lemon Pepper Chicken, wild rice pilaf and asparagus for dinner. I call DD to dinner and she comes scurrying into the kitchen wearing her Princess/Dorothy shoes, her purple and black witches hat and waving her magic wand. Gus is tucked under one arm. She puts on her "mad face" and points the wand at Hillary.

Both Handsome Hubby and I cringe, because this is her favorite game and we know what's coming next...

"NO, WITCH! YOU CAN'T HAVE TOTO!" (yes, I know she's the one wearing the witch's hat).

We both profusely apologize and let her know that DD's favorite movie is "Wizard of Oz" since her father was in that show last summer. Hillary laughs it off and we eat dinner, discussing the treatment of women by the Taliban, No Child Left Behind (and how I think it's the worst thing to happen to American Education EVER) and what it was like to live in the White House. I'm disappointed she only laughs when I ask if she ever slept in the Lincoln bedroom.

It's a little tense when HH says that we were big fans of Bill. She puts on her "mad face" and tartly retorts, "This isn't about HIM, it's about ME and winning the election. Oh, and average Americans, of course". She quickly recovers and we go on eating in silence.

During dessert (Strawberry Shortcake), we listen to a mixed CD including jazz, Journey ("Don't Stop" is definitely included)and Celine Dion (with of course, her campaign song "You and I").

After dinner, DD retires to her play room to watch "Dora" and we are praised for having exposed her to multi-cultural shows. Neither of us tell Hillary that we are suffering Dora and Diego burn out, but whatever. The three of us decide to play the Game of Life, a personal favorite of mine. We let Hillary win. We know that she's pretty used to getting what she wants.

As DD gets ready for bed, Hillary reads her "Good Night, Moon" which is a DD favorite. Apparently, it's Bill's favorite too.

After DD is tucked into bed, we bid the presidential hopeful good night and our evening is complete.

If a Picture Speaks a 1,000 Words....

This is why Ron Paul is not invited to dinner at my house and won't be anywhere near my 3 year old! Crazy ol' man!

If McCain Came to Dinner.....

So, I don’t know who I’m going to vote for in the Presidential election. I swing both ways politically and usually vote for the candidate I think will do the best job, regardless of their party.

I’ve tried to decide who to vote for...there’s the issues of course, but to make an informed decision, I’d like to pick and choose among the candidates, buffet-style to find the perfect palatable choice. I’d love to Frankenstein them into my own SUPER CANDIDATE!!!!

So, that got me thinking. Maybe I should think about who I’d like to have over for dinner. If I could pleasantly break bread with one of them, maybe they could win my vote.

So, the next few blogs will be dedicated to my "Dream Dinners" with the candidates and how I would envision how the evening would proceed....

First up, John McCain....

I imagine him ringing the doorbell and Darling Daughter running towards the door, peeking thru the window, screaming, "Grandpa, Grandpa!" I would quietly hush her before opening the door and say, "No, that’s Presidential Hopeful Mr. John McCain. Be nice to him,"

All 3 of us would greet him with a hearty handshake and say, "Glad you could join us, Mr. McCain" I would apologize that the house is a mess, but I’m a working mother and have no time to portray the Republican view of a perfect SAHM. Ignore the mess....

After about 5 minutes of silly small talk, DD would climb up in his lap and say, "Want to come to my room, John? We can play Dance Party!" at which time, being the gracious baby kisser I imagine him to be, he agrees and I scurry to the kitchen to finish the food prep. We’re having salad, steaks Handsome Hubby grilled, baked potatoes and rolls.

When dinner is ready, I peek in DD’s room, and see them singing along to "Bingo" and dancing in front of the mirror in tiaras and DD’s "Princess shoes" (sparkly pink similar to Dorothy’s ruby reds in the Wizard of Oz") and giggling as they wave their magic wands. Mr. McCain says that he’s going to borrow her magic wand so that if he’s elected President, he can wave it and there will be Social Security funds for when Mommy and Daddy retire.

I interrupt the revelry and announce that dinner is served. John then informs me that he served his country and was a POW for 5 years. After an awkward pause, I say, "My dad was a Corpsman, Second Class in Vietnam..." He responds like every vet that I ever shared that with, "Really? A Corpsman? We loved those guys. They saved our asses."

We then proceed to have our All-American dinner, complete with apple pie for dessert (Dude, I don’t bake...I bought a Tippin’s, ok?) and are serenaded by the melodic tunes of Baby Einstein’s Vivaldi (DD’s favorite CD). It seems Republicanish and DD refuses to listen to the unadulterated hard core classical we have. We discuss the war, the economy, and the illegal immigration policies he would enact (all of which I am in favor of) and who has a shot at winning the World Series....Ya know, regular people stuff....

After dinner, Handsome Hubby invites John to go out onto the back patio for cigars and, in that charming family way when they don’t know how else to entertain someone, asks if he’d like to play Spades.

After a rousing card game and too much red wine (during which I inform him he looks like a gopher and sounds like Ronald Reagan, which is not a good thing, but he takes pretty well), Mr. McCain watches School House Rock! with DD (He knows every word to "I’m Just a Bill...") and reads her favorite pop-up book of the "Wizard of Oz" to her, informing her that it is nothing more than L. Frank Baum’s vision of a Populist utopia and tucks her into bed.

Our Republican evening is over and we bid him adieu, telling him to stop by anytime he’s in the Midwest and advise him to try and channel a little more Harry Truman (a president that truly had large cajones). He smiles, shuffles a bit in an "Awww...shucks!" way and stumbles off into the night....

This truly made me giggle

I don't even like Marshmallow Peeps, but this was truly amusing. Or maybe it's just that there's an hour left at work on a dull Friday afternoon. Either way, I love it when people play with their food.

More Friday Fluff, I'm not suprised by this

You Are Most Like Bill Clinton

No doubt, your legacy may be a little seedier than you'd like. But even though you've done some questionable things, you're still loved by almost all.

What Modern US President Are You Most Like?

Friday Feast

Appetizer

On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 as highest), how much do you like your own handwriting?
I hate my handwriting. As much as I love to write, I think it looks boyish and sloppy. I was never one of those girls who dotted their i's with little hearts or stars...no pretty swirly loops for me. Just mostly-readable scrawl.

Soup
Do you prefer baths or showers?
Baths, by far, unless I'm in a hurry and it's a purely cleaning exercise. I like to unwind and relax and Calgon away the day in the bath tub before I go to bed. Usually though, my peaceful bliss is interrupted by Darling Daughter and her "I have to go potty...I need a drink of water..." or the even creepier, "I want to watch you" Then again, sometimes she puts on a show. The other night after going potty, she stood on her stool and showed me her ballerina dance. Complete with bow.

Salad

What was the last bad movie you watched? I honestly can't think of the last bad movie I saw. It was probably on Lifetime or something and I was bored out of my mind. I DID see the MOST AWESOME MOVIE EVER! last night, "Across the Universe" but that's in a whole other category.

Main Course

Name something you are addicted to and describe how it affects your life.
Diet Coke. If I could hook it up intravenously, I would. I hate coffee, but love caffeine. Don't stand in the way of my Diet Coke. How it affects me? Hard to say, but I usually have lots of energy...

Dessert

Which instrument is your favorite to listen to?
Violin, fiddle, whatever you want to call it. I love it in all it's forms. Nothin' gets me like strings. Vivaldi, Bach, Mozart, down home fiddlin', it's all good.

The Return of the Cougar....

I have no idea how I missed this incredible story, but apparently there must be a black market for taxidermied cougars. Or someone near Hickman Mills High School thought it would make a lovely accent piece in their living room. Seems that the Class of '79 wants their project back and offered a reward of $2000. The cougar, who "escaped" on Friday night, was mysteriously returned on Monday. All's well that ends well, no?

Nevertheless, it got me thinking....What would possess me to steal a taxidermied mammal indigenous to North America?

Top 10 Things I Would Do With a Taxidermied Cougar:
1. Take him for a bus ride on the Metro to see what all this public transportation fuss is all about. Find out his opinions on light rail.
2. Visit the Zoo and really freak out the animals.
3. Take him to the Sprint Center to watch the Basketball Tournament. See if anybody needs an impromptu mascot.
4. Send Polaroids of him to members of the Class of '79 and design a "treasure hunt" so they can find him. Each stop is a new clue.
5. Take him to visit the Plaza Bunnies. Pose him in threatening positions.
6. Sit him in Gloria Squitiro's chair at City Hall with a sign around his neck saying, "By proclamation of the Mayor, your 'volunteer services' are no longer needed."
7. Take him tailgating on Opening Day for the Royals. See how many drunk fairweather fans I can convince that he's the new mascot.
8. Build a float for the St. Patrick's Day Parade filled with screaming, fleeing leprachauns.
9. Sit him in my front yard and wait for the neighbor's evil yappy dog to keel over when he comes over to our yard to do his business.
10. Release him into the wild of Swope Park and let him live free (or wait until someone notices him.)

Sorry, some of these are even lamer than the others, I'm still sick . . .

I'm Fine...OK?!?

I'm starting to get the feeling that I have a little black cloud hanging over me. Monday night I had a friend call me because she thought I seemed a little down on Saturday night at Handsome Hubby's cast party and she just wanted to check on me to make sure that I was ok.

Last night, Darling Daughter came up to me and asked me if I was sad.

I'm not particularly down or in a bad mood or anything. I'm just sick, not my usual perky, spunky self. Geez, does it show that much?

I'm just still fighting the Plague of '08, the house is a mess and I'm under unbelievable amounts of stress at work. But, I'm fine, really. I just have to plan a parade float for Saturday's Brookside St. Pat's Parade and organize an Easter Egg Hunt on Sunday for about 100 kids. That's all. While fighting the plague.

Super Moxie Mama, get ready!

Maybe I'll just veg out on the couch with Handsome tonight and finally watch "Across the Universe". We planned on seeing it in the theatre months ago and you can see how well that worked out.

Sigh....

Mary Jane...er, I mean, Mary Ann...

This is truly just too funny. Dana Wells, who played Mary Ann on Gilligan's Island, was busted for pot.

Seriously. If even Mary Ann is tokin' it up, maybe the Pope should reconsider his deadly sins. Shouldn't there be a "pot indulgence" or something? It's been years and years since I actually might have imbibed, but it just doesn't seem like pot is really all that big of a deal.

People can make the argument of it being a gateway drug and all of that, but 95% of the people I know who still smoke pot, including a nun, have never decided to transisition to the hard stuff. I personally don't find marijuana all that amusing, but hey, if it's your kicks, whatever.

It seems like pot has become the wussy, white bread, suburban act of rebellion. (This is not to say I wouldn't be upset if years in the future I found out my darling daughter was smoking it.) It's so passe, why don't they just legalize it and tax the hell out of it?

7 New Ways to Go to Hell

I guess the Pope really isn't all that busy these days so he had to come up with 7 new deadly sins to help the Church fit into the modern age. I guess after 1500 years, an update seemed like a good idea. I have to rewatch the movie "Seven" just to think of what the old 7 Deadlies were.

Here's an article about the "updates": Vatican Issues List of Modern-Day Seven Deadly Sins

The New Mortal Sins:
1.Genetic modification
2.Human experimentations
3.Polluting the environment
4.Social injustice
5.Causing poverty
6.Financial gluttony
7.Taking drugs

Bummer for the potheads and litter bugs of the world. Your soul will be burning eternally. (Is it coincidence or does it seem to me that pretty much all of these are squarely pointing at the United States?)

None of these things are good, but aren't these things already covered under one of 10 Commandments or one of the original 7 mortal sins? Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Wrath, Pride, Envy, or Sloth....

I've always been and always will be a Catholic, but this Pope is getting on my nerves...I'm not crazy about abortion or cloning or crack smoking, but if people don't already see them as sins, declaring them such isn't really going to change anything. Pope Benedict is just making us look even more stuck in the Middle Ages than we already seem.

One positive note, though, is maybe now that there are 7 New Deadly Sins, Hollywood can make a sequel to "Seven" and name it something like "Seven....More"

Big Girl Bed

A Rite of Passage occurred this weekend. Darling Daughter graduated from Toddler Bed to "Big Girl Bed".

A month ago, I was discussing with my mother in law the fact that DD is getting too tall/long for her toddler bed and that it was probably time to start looking at twin beds for her. Being the thrifty Mother in Law that she is, she said we could have Handsome Hubby's youngest brother's bed. He's moved out and it's just sitting there....It's not my ideal choice, but hey, it's free.

It's one of those beds that has the drawers underneath and not having a ton of room in our house, it seemed like a great idea. More storage is always a great choice.....

Until we actually put it together in our house and DD stood next to it. She needs a ladder to climb up into it. I'm not kidding. It's mid-chest tall to DD.

So now I'm worried about her falling out of bed when her menagerie of stuffed animals she insists upon forces her to the edge. I was worried she wouldn't take to it (She's slightly fearful of heights).

I was wrong. She loves it. She's like the Princess and the Pea in her elevated glory. That makes me happy. I kissed her good night, left the room, closed the door and then I remembered.

I turned to HH and asked, "Did we...um....have sex on that bed several years ago?"

HH laughed and said, "Yeah...yeah we did"

Ewwww....creepy.

Tammy Wynette I am NOT!

The Gov. of NY got caught with his pants down (or caught on a wire tap, whichever). Am I shocked in this post- "I did not have sexual relations with that woman"/nefarious foot tapping in the men's restroom era?

No. I don't even care where the "Do-Gooder Gov" dips his wick. He's busted. It might end his career, it might not. I don't really care. It's a shame that he tainted a "better than most" record with such a disgusting crash n burn.

If it happens, I don't feel sorry for him at all. I do feel sorry for his 3 teenage daughters. I can't imagine showing your face at high school after such a scandal. It would be hard to heal a cut like that with your dad. What a great role model he must be.

I feel sorry for his wife. Most likely a wonderful, dedicated woman who's stood by him thru the ups and downs of his political career. It's always the sweetest women that get cheated on. How's he going to explain why he was seeing a prostitute the night before Valentine's Day? How could you ever sleep with a guy after finding out something like that? Especially your husband of so many years? Why even try to save a marriage after that?

The one thing I don't understand is how his wife stood by him at the press conference. It's always the same scene. Bad boy politician, backed into a corner finally confesses to the public that he "acted outside of good judgement". Long suffering wife, humilitated, heart broken, glassy-eyed, somber standing in the background.

WHY DO THESE WOMEN DO THIS?! Why show the prick that cheated on you and destroyed your family any solidarity or support? Why? Why? Why?

I didn't understand it back in Bill and Monica scandal and I certainly don't understand it in the long parade of women since Hillary.

I'm waiting for the day that the wronged wife doesn't show up for the press conference, or interrupts it by calling him out. I don't think it shows "class" to stand in the background, looking down trodden but strong. It seems weak to me.

It would just take one woman to string her man up by the balls publically to start a different trend. Infidelity is so passe these days, it seems. If it's made to be such a public thing that he has to confess on live tv, why can't the apology where he is on his knees begging his wife's forgiveness be there as well? Why no follow up stories about how hard he tries to win her back? Oh, because the aftermath is supposed to be private.

Wronged women are giving themselves a bad precendence. They are expected to be quiet and somber in the wake of such betrayal. I've always been taught silence is compliance.

Why doesn't the media do a story on how morals should be upheld and the personal accountability to one's spouse should be above anything?

Wow. This is a really preachy post, but it's a sensitive subject to me. I've seen so many of my friends' personal lives destroyed by straying spouses that I can't help but get riled up by this...

Moxie Mama Salutes...Lyda Conley

There is hardly anything that I admire more in my fellow women than a healthy splash of Moxie. Being the history addict that I am, I've decided to periodically post about historical women that had it. A lot of them will probably be from Kansas City, since that's my historical specialty.

My first salute goes out to Lyda Conley. Why? She was the first Native American (Wyandotte Tribe) woman lawyer, she guarded her parents' graves with a shotgun and put a 7 generation curse on anyone who dared to defile the Huron Indian Cemetery.

In 1906, Congress approved a measure that would allow for the bodies in the cemetery to be moved in order to make way for building progress. Lyda, along with her 2 sisters, guarded the Huron Cemetery in KCK for several years, taking turns guarding it against the government. She sued the government and argued the case all the way to the Supreme Court, where they eventually repealed the sale of the cemetery based on an 1855 treaty that had promised to protect the Wyandot tribe's burial ground.

Lyda was murdered on her way home by a robber (who only got 20 cents from her purse)in 1946 and was buried in the cemetery. In 1971, the cemetery was placed on the National Register of Historical Places. I'm sure she rests in peace now.

This is a great article about her.

Zen Penny

This is possibly the coolest use of spare change I've ever seen! A massive Zen Garden made entirely of pennies at Rockerfeller Center. Awesome....too bad all those pennies would hardly be enough to buy a tank of gas! Check out Tattfoo&Ensze's blog. This is some very cool artistic photos of New York.

The Winter of My Discontent

Seriously. I'm sick of winter. We had such a brief break from it last weekend, it was just enough to get me craving Spring. Mother Nature is such a weather tease. She just needs to put out and give us some Springtime lovin'.

I thought I was conquering that horrible flu crap that was going around and just when I start feeling better, nope, I'm plunged into sickness again complete with snot and body fatigue.

Swell, just in time for Handsome Hubby's birthday. Uncontrollable coughing and nose blowing is really sexy. So much for a romantic evening.

"Happy Birthday, honey, my gift to you is the plague!"

How do you gift wrap THAT?

I survived!

Despite feeling kinda yucky this weekend (still battling the vestiges of that horrible flu/snot thing going around), I survived my mother in law's visit mostly still in tact.

Tomorrow is Handsome Hubby's birthday so his parents and Grandma came up for the weekend. (Plus they came to see his show). I love my mother in law, I actually like her better than my own mom, but she wears me out. Between her siege of my kitchen (she's a horrible cook, but insists on cooking when she visits. One of her signature dishes: shredded cabbage in orange jello), her extreme Republican opinions, and my dreaded feeling that she's judging how I'm raising Darling Daughter, I'm worn out by the time they leave.

I'm officially worn out, but it was a nice weekend anyway. HH had a call back audition for a show that's going up this summer after he had already done a performance of his current show, so he's worn out too. LATE last night he got the call that he got the part he wanted, so good for him!

Tonight is definitely a sit our butts on the couch night. Sigh...I'm so looking forward to that.

Wow! Somebody actually reads this . . .

One of the first blogs I read everyday is Tony's Kansas City.

How suprised was I to discover that he linked to my article on "Bodies Revealed"! I had no idea anyone was even reading this thing. I haven't even told my husband. I kind of like my litttle secret corner of the internet.

I also have a MySpace blog, which I've written for over a year. I know, amateur, but it's fun. I have a great following of my friends as readers, but I noticed I started to censor myself. There were topics that I wouldn't want my husband, friends, husband's friends or family reading my real opinion about.

So I decided to uncensor myself. So I started this blog. I read a lot of blogs (especially Kansas City bloggers) and thought I could open myself up to strangers opinions. I'm in advertising, I'm used to criticism. I'm cool with it, but I wanted to build up a collection of posts before linking to others/asking to be linked to.

I guess Tony outed me. That's cool. I feel honored to be read by the most well known/read blogger in Kansas City. I agree with roughly 6% of what he writes, but I still always read him. He always has something interesting to say. He's alternative, and not afraid to get in people's faces. I'd go so far as to say "He's got Moxie!". (He's the one that actually started my addiction to reading/writing blogs.

So anyway, cool that I'm not the only one reading my own blog. Soon I think I'll be ready to start contacting other bloggers.

Stop asking, alright!

My husband is "an actor with a day job". Actually he works at a very, very flexible internet-based company and pursues acting as well. Sometimes his shows are professional, sometimes they are improv troup shows, sometimes they are community theatre. It's his dream. He does whatever he can/wants to. (He was quoted yesterday in the paper about his current show!) I've been supporting his dream for the last 11 years and it seems perfectly normal and quite fulfilling, thank you.

That's why I hate going to cast parties sometimes. His theatre friends must think that he keeps me locked in the house, bound with Darling Daughter Duty. This couldn't be further from truth.

After a hard day at work, filled with Working Mom Guilt, I love coming home eating dinner with Handsome Hubby before he goes off to rehearsal. Darling Daughter and I have some quality one on one time before her bath and bedtime at 8pm. After 8, I can relax, read, surf the internet, whatever for a few hours until he comes home. It's really not that bad at all. I enjoy my family/daughter/me/couple time. Sure, it takes effort to make sure that we spend enough time together as a family and a couple, but it works for us and Darling Daughter seems pretty well adjusted.

That's why I hate cast parties. Inevitably, someone will come up and ask me "I bet you'll be glad to have him back home after this show is over!" Or "Aren't you glad to get out of the house? Who's watching the baby tonight?"

Whatever. Sure it's nice to have him home, but just like a professional athlete, he only has a finite time in his life to do the roles he wants to do. I believe whole heartedly in "Carpe Diem". We've both made sacrifices for our passions, and staying home with our darling daughter is hardly a sacrifice. She's one of the most incredible people I know.

Nobody at the museum I work at every other weekend ever asks my husband, "God, don't you wish she were home more often on weekends? Don't you hate being chained down with Darling Daughter?"

The well meaning women at cast parties probably can't think of anything remotely intelligent to say, but it bothers me nonetheless. After so many years of the exact same questions and getting fed up with defending/explaining our lifestyle, I've come up with a pretty good answer that drops a few jaws and fills me with fiendish delight.

Recently, after being asked "Who's watching the baby tonight?" I answered:
"Well, she's 3 now, she's getting old enough to watch herself, but I felt a little funny about it tonight so I duct taped her to her toddler bed and left a little bowl of Cherrios next to her. I also spiked the milk in her sippy cup with Kaluha, so I think she'll be asleep when we get home. She really prefers White Russians, but, what are you going to do? I'm out of vodka."

Muahahahaha! I love the looks on people's faces when I say that.

Actually we are really lucky on the baby sitting front. We have a wonderful family support system in his siblings and they love Darling Daughter almost as much as we do. Her aunts and uncles (and friends of aunts and uncles)still in college love the Rent-A-Kid experience and Darling Daughter loves being the center of attention. It works for everybody.

Out of the mouth of babes...

Yesterday, after picking my 3 year old daughter, I groaned and told her, "My God, you're getting big. You just keep growing!"

She smiles at me after pondering the statement and says in a pseudo-Valley Girl voice, "Yeah, I grow like a flower or sumpthin."

I laughed so hard I almost dropped her. Of course she wouldn't grow like a weed like most kids do.

My Tarot Card (today....)

I'm a great fan of tarot. I'll probably write a lot more about it later, (maybe even my few days reading for the infamous Mama Cleo before her great fall)...but I ran across this Blogthing and thought it was quite curious considering some of the things that have been going on in my life lately.

For me, and in my readings, The Hanged Man usually means balance is needed. AND HOW! I feel like I'm swinging (not like THAT) right now and need to come to centered balance.

Maybe my chakras are dirty and need to be cleansed. I think they've hit their "30,000 miles" They probably need a good flushing and rejuvinating!

You Are The Hanging Man

You represent the seeking of enlightenment and spiritual clarity. You tend to confuse others, but your oddities seem deeply satisfying. Self sacrifice is easy for you, especially if it makes you a better person in the end. You are the type of person who is very in touch with your soul and inner spirit. Your fortune: Right now is a good time for reflection and meditation. You should stop resisting the problems in your life, and let yourself be vulnerable to them. You may need to sacrifice something important to you to move ahead in your life. Accept your destiny with courage, and learn to let go of what you think you need.

What Tarot Card Are You?

God sanctioned debauchery...Who's with me?

Since I've ran across this topic twice in as many days, it seems blog worthy, so indulge me.

Have you heard about the 30 Day Sex Challenge? Yeah, me either until yesterday. Apparently, a preacher in Florida is challenging the married couples in his congregation to increase their intimacy by having sex at least once a day for thirty days straight. Inversely, he is challenging single people to refrain from having sex for thirty days. Dude, sorry guys, this blog's not for you.

Read the article and come back, pretty please:
30 Day Sex Challenge

When I first read this, I had several reactions.
1. I'm a married Roman Catholic, sex is almost deemed mandatory by the Pope himself. Nothing new here. Yawn.
2. Only in America.
3. The one-quarter part of me (my dad's dad's family) is Southern Baptist. Why are we discussing such a thing?
4. Dude, is this preacher getting paid off by The Johnson & Johnson Co. (makers of KY Jelly) or Trojan condoms? This is GREAT marketing for the "Sexual Intimacy" market. (I can't help it, I'm a marketer, EVERYTHING is about advertising.) Way to "stimulate" the economy! Screw the government, I like the cut of that "Economic Stimulus Package"!

What I don't like is the idea that just by shaggin' you're going to reach spiritual union with your partner. Yes, I believe intercourse is a pleasurable gift from God, but as a path to deeper understanding to your life partner? Maybe.

How many people have you known that equate sex with intimacy/union of spirits? Pretty much every girlfriend you had in high school and college. How many of those relationships really lasted? Maybe I'm jaded as a rape survivor, but I don't think it was very many.

Yes, there is the physical aspect, but you can have incredibly intimate relationships with people without any physical contact whatsoever. Some of my most incredible moments with my husband over the last 11+ years were not sexual in any way, shape or form. And, believe me, as a Taurus, I am far from being considered frigid in that respect. Most Tauruses consider sex one of the essentials along with food, water, air, and shelter.

I think it's a nice thought, but I think the concept of the 30 Day Sex Challenge is short sighted. Yeah, go ahead and have sex for 30 days straight. That's great, hope you enjoy it, but don't forget how important spiritual connection is to the other person.

The best, most intimate gift (next to our darling daughter) that my handsome hubby and I ever gave each other....

Last year, in my Internet surfing compulsion, I ran across a post/idea from a woman who was in a troubled marriage and it just sounded like a good idea for all married couples, regardless the status of their married bliss...

She gave her husband a glass bowl full of slips of paper. On each slip was a reason she loved her husband or a poem or a song lyric, or something else that reminded her how much she loved him. She presented the bowl to him on Valentine's Day and he was so touched, he returned the favor.

As they were working out their issues, and when times seemed really tough for them, if they felt like they needed to, they went to the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper.

I thought she was exaggerating when she said whatever they pulled out seemed like the perfect thing they needed to hear at that moment.

Yeah, that was until I asked Handsome Hubby if he would like to try this. He agreed and so we did it. On one of our dressers sits both of our bowls. If you want to talk about hearing God's voice in your relationship, I can attest to this gift's power.

I can't tell you how many times over the last year or so that we put our 75-100 slips of paper into the bowls that I have pulled out the perfect message that I needed to hear. It's almost as if God choose for me to hear that message at that specific time to remind me that I was loved by both my husband and my Creator. It's all mystical like that.

I learned some really surprising things about reasons my husband loves me because he wrote it down on paper. He always acts surprised and says, "Didn't you know that already?" There are so many ways to express love for your life partner. Some of them are really quite shocking. From personality traits to song lyrics you would never associate with your relationship to things you've said off handedly in the past....it's always amazing to discover how and why you're loved.

To create intimacy, discover the undiscovered. And that truly is a mental/emotional/spiritual thing. That bonds marriage, not mind-blowing sex (which, BELIEVE ME, is a TRULY lovely added bonus).

I think having sex for 30 days straight sounds like a lot of fun, but I think the "I love you because..." bowl can really bond your soul. Plus, if you're Catholic....it's Lent....a time of fast and abstinence. No "meat on Fridays"! Don't let your Catholic Guilt get in the way, just shag (said in my best Austin Powers voice).

So, here is my ending homework:
1. Create the "I love you because" bowl. Share with your partner.
2. Celebrate my friend Mike's favorite holiday, March 14th. (Google March 14, holiday and steak if you're clueless).
3. Check out this hilarious post from one of my newest favoritest viral sites/v-logs: Red State Update for the Red Neck definition of The 30 day Sex Challenge. See if you don't start giggling. I dare you. (I'll blog about them later because I love the concept.)

4. For nostalgia's sake . . . EVERY college party we ever hosted had this song played at least once. It's also dedicated to all Monty Python "Life of Brian" fans.

You've Got to Be McShitting Me!!!!

As I was surfing online over my lunch break, I ran into
this article
Basically, some idiot at Esquire Magazine named the McRib sandwich at McDonalds as one of the best sandwiches in the country.

Maybe this idiot doesn't eat out much. Maybe his taste buds were burned off in some horrible McDonalds coffee scalding incident. I really think he probably could have done better if he put some effort into research when trying to write a real story. A national food chain with a "Best Sandwich"? Seriously? Maybe the iconic Big Mac, but the McRib? No way, Jose.

Don't get me wrong. Whenever this promotional pigstuff comes out, I occassionally imbibe. With a 3 yr old, we're in the McDonalds years and it's a decent change from the double cheeseburger staple I usually go for. However, I would NEVER consider it barbeque. It's pressed pork-like meatish stuff shaped sort of like a mini-slab of ribs. And it's not really all that good. I would never consider the sauce stuff on it to be barbeque sauce. It's just McRib sauce. Or something.

What really slays (fillets) me about the article is the quote from the Esquire Idiot:

“The pickles slay me,” Dickensheets wrote. “The other components of the McRib — sauce, meat, onions, bun — are straight outta barbecue antiquity. But the pickles are an unexpected wacko touch. Is that how they do it in … what, Kansas City?”

Wow...just wow....did you just gasp? I did.

Hope this poor idiot never makes the mistake of actually visiting Kansas City ever. He probably shouldn't even fly over the state for his own safety. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. What is barbecue antiquity? Pickles are whacko? Granted they should be on the side of the sandwich, but still. And I can honestly say I have never eaten onions anywhere near any "real barbecue". Besides that, barbequed meat sandwiches are usually served on white bread, or at least not a sesame bun, for Pete's sake.

As a lifelong Kansas Citian, I admit, I have often pitied those who aren't within driving distance of Gates, Jack Stack or Oklahoma Joe's. Those poor, unlucky bastards. They really don't know what they are missing. Maybe they really don't know that real Kansas City barbecue is so much better than the Kraft product called "KC Masterpiece BBQ Sauce".

So, like every other Kansas City blogger, here's my top choices of bbq:

Sauce: Gates is the ONLY sauce. If I could hook it up intervenously, I would. I love it that much. It was torture when I was pregnant, but I suffered through the heartburn for the delicious taste. It's even good on frozen burritos!

Meat: Jack Stack. From beef to sausage to burnt ends, the delicious best. It's really all about the quality. It's not as fatty and I like the way they smoke their meat (hee hee)

Best ribs: Believe it or not, the best ribs of my life were eaten at the Marina Grog and Galley in Lake Lotawana. The rub they put on them is incredible. They are like nothing else. I haven't been there in quite awhile, but it's worth the trip.

Best baked beans: Zarda. And that's the only good thing about that restaraunt. And I can even buy the beans at Price Chopper, so no need to even go there.

Fries: Arthur Bryant's...crispy outside, soft inside. A meal in itself, especially dipped in their pretty good sauce.

Side dish: Cheesy Corn from Smokestack. (Yes, I know JackStack has the same recipe since they are brother and sister, but Smokestack is closer to my house.)

Best other condiment: Barbeque Mayonnaise from Oklahoma Joe's. Sounds weird, but it is extremely delicious.

Best atmosphere: BB's Lawnside Barbeque. Holy Smokes, their Blues/Jazz rocks! It's a biker bar and it's beautiful! Where else can you buy Pabst Blue Ribbon by the tin bucket? Not at high brow Jack Stack, that's for sure. Damn fine food and VERY affordable.

Most psycho-attentive staff: The "HI, MAY I HELP YOU?!" folks over at Gates. Before you even open the door they're screaming at you for your order. And you better know what you want, quick. "Beefonbunwithfries" The faster you get it out, the better it goes for you. I always warn out of towners to brace themselves before entering.

Best use of space: Oklahoma Joe's. BBQ joint + gas station = pretty cool. Just don't try to get in around lunchtime. Especially if you're claustrophobic. Or addicted to gas fumes. Still the food is deliciously yummy slathered with barbecue mayo.

Cutest waiters: Hickory Pit in Lee's Summit. I don't know if I was drooling over the food or the cute waiters. Definitely worth the trip if for no other reason than the "scenery".

If I can find it, I'll scan in this awesome cartoon that used to be on my fridge. It's a little boy and his father barbecuing and the boy asks his father, "Who invented barbecue, Daddy?" The father responds, "Probably back in the Stone Age, right around the area that is now Kansas City"

Amen, brother. Amen.

Bodies Revealed....GROSS!

While I won't go as far as Tony at Tony's Kansas City, I sort of do protest the new exhibit (opening Feb. 29th) at Union Station, "Bodies Revealed" While I really don't know if the participants in this science meets art project really and truly "volunteered" to give their bodies to it, I really don't think we'll ever know. Are you going to take the word of Red China as Gospel Truth? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Humanitarian issues aside, I think it's just gross. There are some parts of the body I just don't need to see. While I understand that it's supposed to show the anatomy and physiology of the human body, do we really need a traveling exhibit? I wouldn't want the dreaded question from my child of "What's THAT, Mommy?"

Many people that I've talked to that have seen it say that it's very tastefully done and really pretty interesting, but, ya know what kids, I think I'm sitting this one out.

I'm very squeamish. I don't like blood and veins and guts. Not my thing.

I do applaud Union Station for getting such a huge exhibit though. Guess they proved themselves during the Dead Sea Scrolls last year, which was a totally kick ass exhibit. I went with Handsome Hubby on my 30th birthday and WOW, that sort of put aging in a whole different perspective.

I've pretty much always enjoyed their "Smithsonian" exhibits. My favorite was probably Titanic, but I really like "Daniel's Story" (about a boy in the Holocaust). This time, I'll sit it out.

Not your thing either? Do yourself a favor and go support one of the other really great museums that you've never visited in Kansas City. Being a Museum Mama (Moxie still in tact), let me suggest:

John Wornall House Museum
Shawnee Indian Mission
Liberty Memorial
Negro Leagues Baseball Museum
Strawberry Hill Museum
Bingham Waggoner Estate
1859 Jail
Jesse James Museum
Vail Mansion

Can I have a different choice?

It's only February and I'm already depressed about November. I have a history degree. I LOVE politics. I love the drama of American politics. What I don't love this year are my choices. Not a single one. No candidate speaks to me, inspires me, gives me any kind of reassurance that the "sun'll come out tomorrow" on the doom and gloom of the economy and war.

I admit that I voted for McCain in the primary (I am not committed to either party, I vote my conscience. BUT....I've never voted the Republican ticket in a primary ever!). I only did it to stop Mitt Romney. I don't like that guy. I don't know what it is about him but he gives me the willies. McCain is the lesser of the two Republican evils.

While I haven't met any rabid McCain fans, and I am very far from one myself, the Obama/Hillary folks are getting on my nerves. I have met so many women who stare at me flabbergasted that I'm not on the Hillary Hoo-Rah Wagon. "Don't you want a woman president?!" they almost shriek hysterically. Yeah, I'd love it, but I'm not going to vote for somebody just because they have a vagina.

Similar deal with Obama supporters. "Don't you want ~Change~? Don't you have ~Hope~?Are you racist? Why don't you like him?" First off, I don't care if our next president is purple, I don't get what Obama's gonna change. I was ~Hoping~ for something better than what we've had the last 8 years, but the Democrats really disappointed me but not rising to the challenge of a decent candidate.

I don't care about gender/race/whatever, I want somebody with the political cajones to fix the country. A fist term, still wet behind the ears Senator who hasn't had the time to build up the experience and political support behind him or a conniving, something I don't trust career politician just aren't going to pull us out of the pit that the US is tumbling into.

I took a political quiz about a month ago and based on answers given, I was supposed to be aligned with my perfect candidate. Apparently that would be Ron Paul, the grass roots whackadoo. Swell. I know I'm VERY conservative on some issues and VERY liberal on others, but seriously, Ron Paul? I'm still reeling in shock.

Maybe I'll vote for that kid that got kicked off American Idol already. You know, the skinny teenager with the mop hair, Buddy Holly glasses and the ties? Kid's got as good a chance as anybody, if he were old enough to run....

Sigh....can we have a do-over this year. I was so looking forward to it and now I'm disappointed. I'm still waiting for Super "Semi-Conservative, Semi-Liberal, Fix the Shit at Home First" Candidate to fly in and save the day before November. I'll even play a damsel in distress that needs saving if need be. I'll even show off a little bit of heaving bosoms for the cause if it'll get the job done. It's not beneath me to flash a little cleavage if it's my patriotic duty. Yeah...I'll sink that low...

Sayonara Aught 7...Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out!

This is a drag over from my other blog...in a late celebration of Chinese New Year's, I post it here.....

So, now that Christmas is over, everyone from Time Magazine to VH1 is doing their "Year in Review". Even being the history addict that I am, I usually do this as a glance over my shoulder and then start planning for the next year. This year, 2007, being what it was, probably deserves a bit more retrospection. Ok, fine. I'll sit down, Indian-style in my own little nook of my deepest being and really think about this year. I'll swish it around in my mouth and then spit it out like the cheap, nasty wine that it was.

More than any year of my life, I'm glad this one is almost over. It sucked, and it sucked bad. When I'm done reflecting, I'm going to stand up, brush off my hands briskly and close the door with a satisfying slam and a "Well, that's done. Moving on…"

I know it's not as easy as that, but it's good to at least have a plan.

I'm not going to go into specifics or turn out the lights for the "Highlights" reel to reel film. Instead, upon deep reflection, and a bit of perspective, I think the theme of this year is my best friend's Sicilian proverb: "Not all bad comes to do us harm." I'm going to take this time to blog and to make myself remember one of my own proverbs: "It's only a mistake if you didn't learn anything or grow from it."

Here are some of the lessons that I learned/relearned this year:


1. When your world is turned upside down and you're hanging off the edge by your fingertips, it's ok to get upset and cry about it, but take a deep breath and wait for the world to turn, because it always does and you'll be back on your feet soon enough. Don't make any plans until your feet are on the ground.

2. I'm a hell of a lot stronger than I ever thought I was.

3. Never say never about anything you would or wouldn't do until you are in that situation.

4. There is ALWAYS (at least more than) 2 sides to a story. Nothing is black and white. Some stories, like Kafka's "The Metamorphosis", I'm never going to fully understand no matter how hard I try. Not even with the Cliff Notes. I will some day learn to accept this.

5. Selfishness is the root of all evil and there are a lot of very selfish, destructive people in the world.

6. Blind faith sucks. But sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

7. Even when I'm mad as hell at God and declare a "friendship break" with Him, He's still present and still loves me.

8. "Patience gains all things." St. Teresa is right, but it's not one of my usual virtues.

9. Turning 30 wasn't THAT bad.

10. Never ever ignore intuition. Never talk yourself out of your gut feelings. You're spot on right, 9.75 times out of 10.

11. "Make new friends, but keep the old." We sang this song in Brownies when I was a little girl and it's great advice. I'm so thankful for my new friends acquaintences that turned into better friends and my dearest old friends. I leaned on them when they didn't even know it.

12. My daughter is the most intuitive, beautiful, precious and loving person I have ever known.

13. Estrogen is a beautiful thing. Surround yourself by strong, powerful, incredible women and banish the bitter, selfish, life-sucking bitches to the darkness, no matter how great "a friend" they supposedly were/are.

14. Handsome Hubby, Darling Daughter and I need more sunset picnics at Loose Park.

15. I finally have figured out how to deal with my family. Good for me. It's about damn time.

16. Art therapy is something both HH and I need. Art heals SO much. I started to write (on and off line) more creatively than I have in years. "Children of Eden" was a show that God wanted HH to do.

17. Don't forget to think and ACT outside the box. The surprising results can be quite good.

18. Use your head, but follow your heart. Let them fight it out for a while. Logic and passion are vital to good decision-making.

19. I don't need to forgive anybody until I'm damned good and ready. And I'm not ready to forgive some things yet. I'll just work towards it. It will happen. Also, I don't need to offer forgiveness to those who don't care if they have it.

20. I'm not my mother. Not at all. Thank God.

21. HH and I can have incredible conversations by not saying a thing, just holding each other's hand.

22. I'm damn good at both my jobs. I have had resounding success in both this year.
Remember to pat myself on the back once in awhile. It's ok to be proud, but don't be smug.

23. It truly is about not giving up.

24. Facebook and MySpace are clinically proven to be 25% more addictive than crack cocaine.

25. It's ok to go wild sometimes. I haven't done enough of that in recent years. Screw anybody who judges me badly for it. If you really know me, you know I really needed it.

26. I need more intelligent people to argue with me. I miss debating issues. It's ok to voice my opinions in a loud voice. If you judge me negatively, you're not really my friend.

27. I am a good mother. My worries were unfounded. We're doing great with her.

28. Laying my head on HH's chest and listening to his heartbeat when he's sleeping banishes the worst nightmares.

29. It's ok to be cautiously vulnerable to things that MIGHT hurt me.

30. I need a t-shirt that says, "I survived my Saturn's Return. It sucked and all I got is this lousy t-shirt"

31. Rediscovering my passions in life is an excellent choice.


There's other lessons. Maybe I'll add to this list later, but for now, this is good enough for sharing. Even years are usually good years in my life, so welcome '08. Hope you're worth the wait!

Breaking and Entering is FUN!

Several months back I read this really cool/somewhat scary book "Creepers" by David Morrell about a journalist who infiltrates a group of urban explorers in order to write an expose on the phenomenon also called urban spelunking. They enter this old hotel and of course there's murder, mystery and hidden agendas. It's an incredibly awesome book.

If you don't know what urban exploration is, check out the Wikipedia article. It basically is a group of people who trespass in abandoned buildings/sewers/other "off limits" places in order to explore and see what's there. They usually take pictures, and they don't usually vandalize or steal anything. Seems like a dangerous, illegal kind of hobby to me, but hey, one man's law breaking is another man's jollies.

When reading "Creepers" I couldn't help but regret that I never took advantage of my chance to see the underground tunnels from Union Station to the Post Office across the street. When I worked at Union Station, my friend in Collections had keys to the deeper recesses of the basements and I should have taken him up on it.

Today I was reminded of the tunnels when I ran across
this blog post:.
Be sure to check out the photo gallery.
This place looks really cool!

How cool is that? An abandoned, underground, lost streetcar tunnel in Kansas City! I'm been familiar with that particular stretch of road because I helped one of my Wornall House friends on a family history project. Her family had an interest in the streetcars and we had done a little bit of research about that area of Kansas City. I can tell you, that is one STEEP hill! She's going to be excited to see this.

I admit I'm kind of intrigued by the idea of urban exploration. As someone who's worked at 3 different historical museums/sites, I've been really privileged to go "behind the scenes" of some pretty cool places. There is a definite thrill in being where you know you're not supposed to be, even if all of my visits were properly sanctioned.

There's not really any point to this post (like most of my posts), I just thought it was something cool and semi-historical to share with others....if you get inspired to "explore" some place, be sure to send me pictures of your adventures.

Hey, Winter...Newsflash...YOU SUCK!

Dear Old Man Winter,

I'm sick of you, ok? I want to break up. All that charm of holiday cheer and pretty white snow has worn off. I know I was excited for our first snows and didn't even mind your frostiness way back in December. But by now, I'm so over that.

I know statistically Jan. 24th is the most depressing day of the year according to sociologists, but sometimes I'm behind the times. And I'm always sick of you in about mid-February. Go back and look at my attendance records in grade school. Yeah, it might not be coincidence that I was "sick" at least one day in February almost every year.

So, it's your fault all these people are depressed. Way to be a Debbie Downer, Winter. You need a new attitude. February is the worst. Yeah, there's Valentine's Day, but really, that's a Capitalist holiday and President's Day...is that the best you and the government could come up with? You could try a little harder you know.

You're my least favorite season and I've tolerated you long enough. I miss green grass, and leaves on the trees and sandals and baseball and not freezing my butt off every time I go outside. I want to swim in the lake, darn it!

Don't think I didn't notice that extra day you threw in there this year. Leap Year...USELESS! Right now I'm cursing that damn groundhog and demanding a recount. Lazy little SOB only works one day a year and all he does is confirm the obvious. He's on your payroll isn't he? You grease his paw with a little extra nuts or whatever it is the rodent eats, don't you?

So, anyway, I know you'll probably stick around for another month or so, but come on, start packing it up, buddy, 'cause I'm so through with you. Today was the official first day of Spring Training Camp for the Royals, so you're being given notice to vacate.

C'mon Springtime, you sweet, beautiful season! I'm ready!

Sincerely,

The Committee Against S.A.D
and
The Anti-Cranky League

Fishstix Verboten

Every year when I was growing up, as if it were an edict from the Pope himself, we always had fishsticks and macaroni and cheese for dinner on the Fridays of Lent.

I really don't like fish, in any form, except alive and swimming. I hate the taste and I'm allergic to shellfish. When I was preggers, we couldn't even go NEAR the seafood section without me retching. (Don't tell me I just haven't had fish cooked the right way for me to enjoy it. I sampled everything under the sea when I worked 4 star seafood restaraunt; I'm pretty sure at almost 31 that I don't like fish.)

I hate fishsticks with a passion. Every Lenten Friday and Ash Wednesday of my childhood was purgatory and Catholic sacrifice wrapped up in soggy, oily batter. Even though all five of us HATED fish sticks, our mom would ALWAYS serve them. God bless ketchup which could almost drown out the taste.

The worst Fishstick Fridays? My birthday (April 21st) which always seemed to fall on a Friday during Lent. (I know this is mathmatically impossible, but hindsight is fuzzy/fuzzy). The absolute worst was when my birthday fell on Good Friday. Hard to be excited about a birthday when you have fishsticks, mac n cheese for dinner and it's the day Jesus died. That's a bummer, lemme tell ya.

That's why I vowed before DD was born that I would never subjugate any child of mine to such a horrible dinner.

I'll be damned if one day when we picked Darling Daughter up from daycare the baby sitter told us, "We had fishsticks for lunch and DD LOVED them. She ate 4!" Handsome Hubby (who shares my distaste for fish) just looked over at me and burst out laughing.

So....am I a bad parent if I don't give her fishsticks? I don't know. I do know that I won't be eating any. YUCK!

To Top it all off

The fierce, evil, fever-inducing, body-aching snot-capade that I've been enduring for the last week has now officially given me an ear infection complete with golf ball sized throat gland. Lovely. Take me to the glue factory like a dried up dead horse.


*no animals were intentionally harmed or was anyone encouraged to harm an animal in the posting of this blog. Unless I tripped over the cat on my way to the Kleenex box. In which case, it was purely coincidental.


**I'm sick and I'm blathering. I'll stop now.

You can't shield kids from advertising....

As a professional marketer, one of the things I strive for the most is brand recognition. Everybody should know my company and keep it at the pinnacle of TOMA. But how far is too far?

Darling Daughter (DD) is 3 years old and is pretty darn smart for her age. I love kids at this age because their brains are like sponges that never get soggy. I never have thought much about the effect of advertising on DD until right before Christmas. Handsome and I had taken her out to eat at Applebee's. A few days later when Hubby was "doing the books" she pointed to the logo on the top receipt and said, "Let's go to Applebee's?" I was proud of her recognition of where we had gone, but just a bit uneasy.

Another example...HH and I have just started letting her watch tv shows on Noggin and the like. Before this, she either watched only PBS shows or educational videos like Baby Einstein or Disney movies. As we were watching Dora one day, commercials came on and she ran across the room and pointed to the advertised toy (I can't remember which it was) and said, "I have to have this! Please, please!" I'm not kidding!

At 3 are children able to understand that ads are supposed to make you want to buy things or are Mattel, Hasbro, Disney, etc. just sending subliminal toddler mind warping messages? ....Can I get them to build an ad that will make her clean her room?

A few weeks ago I went to a Marketing seminar for service companies. One of the topics was brand building. To prove the point of the power of a great logo/brand recognition, we were asked to name the companies that represented the letters of the alphabet. I got every single one right (go ME!) which proves the power of how permeating advertising messages are into our daily lives. Take the test, see how well you do:



Want the answers? Here you go:
A:Saturn
B: ABC
C: Cannon
D:Glad (Dr. Pepper?)
E: Zales
F: Ruffles
G:Lego
H:Yahoo
I:Bic
J: Jif
K:Burger King
L:Google
M: Sam Adams
N:Nasa
O:Kinko's
P:UPS
Q:Dairy Queen
R:Walgreen's
S:Sony
T:Citi
U:Blockbuster
V:Volvo
W:Mountain Dew
X:Twix
Y:Lay's
Z:Zenith

So, there you go...

Bathtime Funtime....

So, tonight's bathtime dialogue:

Me, entering the bathroom, noticing Handsome Hubby washing Darling Daughter. I make note of his plumber's inpersonation and adjust the level of his pj pants. I turn to DD and say:

ME: "DD, repeat after me: Crack is Whack"
DD: "Crackawhacka"
ME: "Close enough. We just had our first anti-drug talk. Nobody can say we didn't start early."
HH: "Repeat after me: 'You got it dude!"
DD: "Gotitdude"
ME: "If you ever turn out like the Olsen Twins, I'm putting you over my knee and spanking you."
DD: "But it would be nice if you supported us in our old age"
ME: "DD, Repeat after me: 'You got it dude!"
DD: "Gotitdude"
ME: "Can you be a nuclear physicist and support us?"
DD: "Gotitdude"

Excellent (In my Mr. Smithers from The Simpson's voice). Screw Social Security, my old age is SET!!! We're the best parents EVER!