The nerve of this guy!!

I heard some giggling in my daughter's room the other day, and THIS...is what I found!

Can you believe it?! I KNEW that Elf on the Shelf was a sneaky looking dude.

I don't know who to blame...Kurt the Elf, or these sleazy Bratz dolls. Such sluts! I caught them fondling a Ken doll around Thanksgiving, and now this!

To add insult to injury, I found an empty bottle of Jim Beam spilled all over my daughter's floor. THANK GOODNESS my children were at school at the time. I don't want my innocent little girls tainted by the tawdry antics of this horny elf and his plastic concubines.

I told my little one that Kurt has been transferred to a family in Texas. He is no longer welcome in our home.

If you happen to have one of these sneaky little elves in your home, keep a very close eye on him. Hide your Barbies, and make sure you lock your bathroom door when you take a shower. Behind that cute little smirk lies an alcoholic pervert just waiting to take advantage of unsuspecting families, trying to add a little holiday magic to their children's lives.


On a lighter note, Merry Christmas to you all.

I leave you with this quote from Dr. Seuss' "How The Grinch Stole Christmas."

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons.
It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

That one gets me every time. Truly. It brings a tear to my eye. Dr. Seuss is brilliant.

I feel so blessed that I will spend my Christmas surrounded by the ones I love. I am so thankful for my amazing family and friends, and despite the fact that I haven't been blogging much, I am very grateful for all the wonderful people I have met through Caffeine Court.

Stay safe and I will be back in 2011!


Can you re-gift a post??

I guess technically, you can't. But you CAN repost a post.

Sooooo...without further adieu...here's a post from December 2009.

Christmas Letters: Writer Discretion is Advised...

Here's what NOT to write...

Dear Friends,

2009: the year (and the decade) ends. If we were like most of you, we'd be exhausted, but since we are better than you, we feel exhilarated!!

We're thrilled to report that our entire family is healthy, happy and excelling at all we do.

We realize that the economy is tough. Many of you are out of work or struggling to make ends meet. We feel for you.

Happily, our careers are thriving. Things on the job front are all moving in a positive direction. My company is growing in leaps and bounds. I received a big promotion along with a raise and bonus. We are so thankful for our good fortune and the sky is the limit.

Maryann has been teaching five courses at the university. All were at the masters level. She has traveled the country lecturing to sold out crowds in Boston, Denver, Philly and Chicago.

She also worked as the General Contractor on our massive home renovation. Wait until you see our new Chef's kitchen, home theater, incredible master bath and full finished basement. We certainly hope it makes you green with envy!!!

Onto the kids!!! Evan (12) is a lacrosse and baseball champion. In addition to making straight A's he has been playing on 5 undefeated teams and attending many prestigious lacrosse camps in his "free time."

Riley (9) continues with her rigorous ice skating program and we have our sights set on the 2018 Winter Olympic Games! Having such a talented daughter is quite an adventure and we thank god every day that he gifted her with such skill and grace.

And let's not forget little Will. (7) Will is the family daredevil. He has won a trophy case full of awards in snowboarding, surfing and skateboarding. It's amazing how he masters whatever he tries with such gusto and skill!!!

Well, that wraps up another chapter in our busy, blessed lives.

May you all be as lucky as we are in 2010.

With love-

The Fab Family

Oh and by the way...I live a few doors down from the Fab Family. I exaggerated their letter, but the REAL letter is embellished so damn much, it should win an award, for SCIENCE FICTION!!!


The card has been ordered!

Retro Wheel Green Christmas Card
Shop Shutterfly.com for elegant Christmas photo cards.
View the entire collection of cards.


It's been way too long!!!!

It's been almost a month since I last sat down at my laptop for any other reason than to check my bank account, shop for Christmas gifts or mindlessly browse Facebook.

I've lost that blogging feeling.

Blogs are like plants. They need attention and care, or they end up dried up in the corner, all shriveled up and brown.

My blog has reached that point, but all is not lost.

Even though Caffeine Court appears to be on it's last legs, there is still one little green leaf hiding behind the dead foliage.

I am going to take that little leaf and nurture it...and perhaps one day, my blog will be in full bloom once again.

WOW. No wonder I haven't blogged in so long. That was pathetic.

Anyway, I'm back, for now. Life has thrown me a few curve balls of late, but nothing I can't handle, and I remain optimistic that all is well. Life works in cycles. You've got to take the bad with the good, right?

On that note, I'm going to list some of the GOOD stuff that's been going on:

-A very big fundraiser for my daughter's school that I was on the committee for, was a HUGE success. Despite the sorry state of our economy, we raised a ton of money AND had a great time while we did it. (Oh and I discovered the magic of splurging on a blowout the day of a big event. It's totally worth it to have movie star hair when you are going to be hobnobbing with 250 of your closest friends.)

-My tennis game is smokin'. I know that can change at any time, but as of late...I'm on fire.

-One of my best friends is training to be a Pilates instructor at a really swanky studio that I could never afford to go to. She needs 75 hours on the machines, so I have been getting lots of free one on one instruction. It feels sooo good and it's very relaxing. The downside? I look like I'm having a seizure when I do the abdominals. After two c-sections, my abs are worthless and weak.

-I had a very Happy Thanksgiving at my little sister's house in Maryland. Both my sisters were there along with all our children. I love them all so much and we always have a great time together. (I won't get into the details of a very heated public argument my youngest sister and I had at the Christmas Festival from Hell that she took us to. THAT was a low point, but the kids really enjoyed watching us go at it. It was like something straight out of "Real Housewives of NJ." Not one of my best moments. Isn't it amazing what stress, no sleep, no food and a hot, loud, crowded room filled with mutants can do to a person? My husband still hasn't recovered from it. MORTIFIED doesn't even begin to describe how humiliated he was. (But he still loves me...remarkable.)

-Oh and one last thing. My eyebrows are loookin' good. I went to one of the BROWISTAS at the local Arch Brow Bar and they worked their magic on me. What a difference. Seriously, it's like an eye lift.

If you want an instant, major improvement in your appearance, go to someone who knows how to do brows. It will change your life.

It's been so nice touching base with you.

We really should do this more often.


On Politics and Manners

Another election has come and gone. If you've been reading this blog long enough, I'm sure you know I am very pleased with the outcome. I'm not going to do a victory dance or get all in your face about how happy I am, but I feel good.

What I don't feel good about is the nastiness that comes out during election time.

Yesterday on Facebook it was madness.

Friends of mine from high school posted the most absurd and rude pictures, including this:

and this...

I found these annoying and immature, and I thought to myself, "don't even dignify it with a response..it's not worth it." And then, what did I do????


I wrote a little note to each of these people letting them know, in a nice way, that I found these photos offensive.

Big mistake.

Why? Because people who put stuff like this up on the internet are not rational if you don't agree with them. If you disagree with Obama's policies they start screaming about Bush and they can get VERY nasty.

One of their favorite tactics is to become pompous and condescending.

Here are a few choice comments from some of my exchanges yesterday...

"I lived in Europe and we were a laughing stock when Bush was in office.
" (She lived in France...not exactly a model for good government. Things are a MESS in France. But I'm sure they all felt really good about themselves while they sat around drinking wine and talking about the "ugly Americans.")

"It's some place, this Duhmerica, isn't it?" (Apparently yesterday's election results were based on stupidity...I guess voting Republican means you are STUPID. It's a shame that they hate this country so much. Very sad indeed.)

"I just hear so much blather, such utter nonsense, particularly from IDIOTS like Glenn Beck. Sheer nonsense. And then I hear people parrot it back, like it's true."
Not everyone who votes Republican is an IDIOT who is simply parroting back the opinions of Glenn Beck. To imply that that is the case is once again...pompous and RUDE!

"Love ya too, you wingnut fascist demagogue! Joke!
" The adult equivalent of "those shoes are so ugly!! Just kidding!! They're cute. Why are you upset?? I was KIDDING!!"

And the piece de resistance...

Great. Let's put back into power the same party that fucked everything up. THAT WILL SOLVE EVERYTHING. Congratulations America, on your short term memory loss and idiocy.

Get over yourself. Do you think you could have voiced that opinion in a CIVIL tone? No, you can't, because you are so much smarter than everyone else, aren't you? And it makes you SOOOO MAD that people who don't agree with you are SO DAMN STUPID!!!! GRRRRR!!!

Later today, I'm going to do a little housecleaning on Facebook. I'm certainly not going to eliminate my friends who disagree with me politically. I respect their opinions and I welcome a good debate. A good political discussion is a beautiful thing, when you can keep things respectful.

If you can't play nice, then you're off the Caffeine Court team. CUT!!! Take your ball and go play with the other SMART mean kids.

Before I go, remember this...tolerance and diversity are what makes this country great. (Yes, I think America is a great country...DUH.)

Practice what you preach.


Peace out.


Mrs. Overly Competitive Middle Aged Team Tennis Player....

I was driving in the car today, when I heard the radio version of this commercial....it's one of Bud Light's hilarious "Real Men of Genius" spots...

This particular spot really hit home for me because it's all about ME...on the tennis court.

A few of the phrases really rang true...(sing the words in red...)

"A little competition never hurt anybody...unless of course that person happens to be the person you're playing against. Bring on the pain."


"Blazing speed? NO! Great hands? NO? Unresolved issues over being cut from the team 17 years ago? BIG TIME!!!! I still have issues!"

"You leave it all out on the field (court)...your blood, your sweat, your dignity. Dignity is overrated!!!"

No kidding. Just ask my sister. I played against her a couple of weeks ago and she laughed at me the entire time. The mean look on my face, the way I hurled my body across the court after every ball paying no mind to how absolutely hideous I looked as a flailed my 45 year old body around the court with full gusto.

It's quite a sight. Perhaps someday I'll have someone video me and post it for your enjoyment.

Picture the dude in this commercial with longer hair and a tennis skirt:

Sooooo, if you ever want to join me for a "friendly" game of tennis. FUHGGEDABOUT IT!!

I've got issues!!!

But at least I admit it.


The Breaking Point

I'm up, at 4:30 in the morning.

Why? You ask.

Well, I'll tell you why. About 30 minutes ago, I was rudely awakened by a deafening crash.

I leaped from my warm bed, thinking an intruder had entered my home.

I should have known better.

I entered my bathroom and there was glass everywhere, and in the middle of it stood my cat, licking up the water all over the tile floor and purring loudly.

I grabbed some paper towels and a broom and proceeded to pick up the mess. I then proceeded to wake each member of my family to ask them to avoid the area until I can vacuum at the crack of dawn.

Like the glass, I might have reached my breaking point.

Owning 3 dogs and a cat is starting to get to me.

(Okay, it's been getting to me for a long time, but I'm finally admitting it.)

I love them so much.

Too much.

But cleaning up the hair, poop, and throw up is wearing me down.

Throw in the vet bills, nail trimming, brushing, meds, helping my elderly Lab up and down the stairs as well as cleaning up the garbage every time my Dachshund gets in the trash and getting yelled at by my husband each time the Pug jumps on the couch and it really gets ugly. (Yes, it's a run on sentence, I know...cut me a break...I'm TIRED!!!)

Oh, have I mentioned finding someone to care for this menagerie every time we go away? Not an easy task, but easier than the pain I feel if I board them all for a week.


Oh yes, I forgot to tell you about the humiliation of running up and down my street with a hot dog if one of them gets out and tries to run down a busy road, or the screams of scared children who are afraid of dogs and come to visit our home.

Do I sound bitter?

I'm really not, because my love for them makes it all worth it.

But I am tired.

Very, very tired.

I guess nothing good comes easy.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go clean out the litter box.

(Unless one of the dogs gets hungry and beats me to it.)

Thanks for listening.


Okay Robblogger, your little tactic worked...

I just received the following comment:

"I just read your blog. It’s alright. By that I mean it’s not entirely horrible. There were parts where I thought I would rather be pleasuring myself with sandpaper, but you definitely have potential. I think it might be beneficial for you to check out a truly excellent blog, Inspired by Caffeine and Nicotine Operation Z. I am willing to give you a few tips. Love Robblogger."

SAY WHAT!!!!????

I was a little taken aback, and at the same time, intrigued, so I payed Rob a little visit and this is what I found:

"I just read your blog. It’s alright. By that I mean it’s not entirely horrible. There were parts where I thought I would rather be pleasuring myself with sandpaper, but you definitely have potential. I think it might be beneficial for you to check out a truly excellent blog, Inspired by Caffeine and Nicotine Operation Z. I am willing to give you a few tips. Love Robblogger

I posted that to a bunch of blogs today. I’m really not that big an asshole. Let me explain. But first, let’s move on with our second title...

To be completely clear I did not mean what I said in that comment. I am completely unwilling to give anyone advice. And the only place I posted that little love note, was on blogs I thought were truly excellent, and to those I thought might be able to take a joke. I blame my girlfriend. She suggested I post comments to Bloggerites I really enjoyed. For the last couple weeks I have been taking her advice, and Pearl Harboring sites I like, with adulation and praise. It hasn’t worked. I’ve been sending out love and getting none in return. I feel like Charlie Brown on Valentine’s Day. That is no way to make me feel, shame on you bloggers.

I have gone biblical, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” I had to come up with a teaser that would get viewers over here. What kind of remark would get me to go check out someone else’s thoughts? The above horribly insulting and egotistical memo is what I came up with. I am willing to admit it is not the nicest thing I have done, but I had an unhappy childhood. I didn’t have a Nintendo. I had to make do with an Atari. If my childhood had been filled with rescuing a Princess, instead of endlessly trying to get a frog across a busy street, I might not have the need for attention I suffer with today."

Okay Rob, I get it, and your little trick worked. Here is some attention from me, a lapsed blogger who totally gets the need for comments and attention.

If anyone else would like to reward Rob with some attention after his desperate cry for attention, you can find him here.


A Minty-Fresh Pick Me Up!!!

Okay, so you loved the MAC "Shroom" eyeshadow, now I'm going to let you in on another product that I adore that combines two of my favorite things, fresh breath and caffeine...

FOOSH® Energy Mints.

These little suckers rock!! As you know, I love the burst of energy I get from my coffee and Diet Coke, the drawbacks of these two little addictions are, frequent trips to the ladies room, brown teeth, aspartame and coffee breath. YUK.

FOOSH® Energy Mints are sugarfree, fat-free and made with premium peppermint to give you amazingly fresh breath while energizing your life! More than that, each energy mint in every tin or blister pack of FOOSH® is like having a cup of coffee ready to go in your pocket!

Get Fooshed Today!

Imagine, smelling minty fresh while you whiz through your day full of vim and vigor.

FOOSH Mints. Truly a dream come true.

(The people over at FOOSH asked if I would be their celebrity spokesperson, but I politely declined. As you know, I'm too busy with tennis, Facebook and reading The National Enquirer to hold down such a demanding job...if any of you are interested in the gig, let me know and I'll pass the word onto the folks at Vroom Foods, Inc.)


Tip of the Day

MAC eyeshadow in "Shroom." $14.

So. Flattering.

Go buy it.


That's all I've got.

Stay tuned for my new favorite tee.


Farewell Sisley, I love you so....

Today was a very sad day for me.

A few months ago, my friends and I spent a wonderful weekend in NYC. One of the highlights for me was my makeover at the Sisley counter at Saks.

A miracle worker named Joey introduced me to the wonderful world of high end cosmetics and skin care.

Because my birthday and Mother's Day were approaching, I indulged myself and purchased a very expensive tub of Sisley Eye and Lip Contour Creme.

Big mistake.

Not because it was a rip off, but because it is fabulous!!! I love it so much. It really soothes my under eye area, it feels heavenly and it gets rid of my puffiness.

Every morning I would gingerly use my little Sisley spoon and dip it in this magic elixir and then revel in it's magical powers. (Did you know that you are supposed to use a sterile spoon to scoop your moisturizer...if you don't you might CONTAMINATE it.) C'est horrible!!!!

As we all know, all good things must come to an end and since I'm on a budget, I simply cannot justify purchasing another container of this wonder potion right now.

(And forget the Botox sister. I laid off that a long time ago and my forehead looks worse than my Pug's!!!)

Right now my only beauty indulgence is my trip to the hair salon every six weeks for the best highlights I've ever had. I skimped on my hair for a long time and the result was a brassy orange dutch boy hairdo that was an embarrassment to both me and my family.

Damn this economy!!!

Anyway, if any of you gals have a suggestion for an amazing eye cream that won't require me to take out a second mortgage on the house, please share.

We ladies have to help each other out in these tough times.

Oh and as always, if you have a product you would like me to advertise, especially one that can make me look better, you know where to find me. At home, sitting on the computer, while I should be scrubbing my shower.

Love ya!!


Common Sense

In my last post I promised to talk about my "wildly successful diet." I hope I didn't get you too excited because it's not really anything all that special.

Let's start at the beginning.

As I mentioned, I was with my girls this summer ALL THE TIME. It was stressful at times, so occasionally we entertained ourselves by going out for ice cream, or hitting the candy aisle at 7-11. No matter how tense things got, we all agreed that a Slurpee and a box of Nerds can make everything all better.

As you all know, there are consequences to every action, and boy did I learn that the hard way.

Towards the end of my tennis season I went to put on one of my favorite tennis skirts and I could barely pull it up over my thighs.

I was so stubborn that I managed to wiggle it up over my big, beefy butt. When I finally managed to get it all the way on, it actually hurt, but I refused to remove it. I wore the damn thing through an entire tennis match in 100 degree weather. Can you say "intense pain, coupled with an atomic wedgie?"

You can't even imagine how lovely it was pulling that tiny little skirt down to go to the bathroom after getting all sweaty and THEN having to pull that thing up again. Absolutely horrendous, I tell you, and the chafing was beyond belief.

Are you getting the picture? It was ugly, but it was good for me, to realize how chubby I had become over the summer. I needed to punish myself, and I refused to go out and buy larger clothes.

As a result of the ass and inner thigh injuries I sustained by wearing that little pink girdle for three straight hours, I began paying attention to how many times a day I blindly threw crappy food into my mouth. A marshmallow here, a handful of fries, a bag of jelly beans, a few goldfish crackers. It was like a cash register of calories, CHA CHING, CHA CHING, CHA CHING.

I was at a crossroads, either I could continue to consume massive quantities of junk all day long, while my body slowly but surely expanded, little by little, OR I could become mindful about what I was eating. By the grace of God, I chose to stop the insanity.

I started to stop myself every time I reached for a spoonful of ice cream or a couple of Oreos. I stocked my shelves with healthy food, like granola, bananas, avocados, and salads.

I started drinking one coconut water in the morning and then lots of water all day long, and very quickly, I started to notice that my pants got a little looser and my belly a little flatter.

I've only been good for about 3 weeks, but already the results astound me.

So that's it. No South Beach, no personal trainer, just an awareness of what I was consuming and cutting out the crap.

I'm also going to start running again this week.

I'll admit that I caved on Saturday and had a few beers and some cheese fries at our local fair, but I'm going to make up for it this week.

So that's my secret. Pretty common sense.

Less calories, healthier food and lots of water equals a very comfortable size small tennis skirt.

I leave you with a few weight loss quotes:

The rest of the world lives to eat, while I eat to live. - Socrates

We never repent at having eaten too little. -Thomas Jefferson

and finally, it I'm having a bad day...

When we lose twenty pounds... we may be losing the twenty best pounds we have! We may be losing the pounds that contain our genius, our humanity, our love and honesty. ~Woody Allen

It's okay to be fat. So you're fat. Just be fat and shut up about it. ~Roseanne Barr
So who am I going to emulate? Socrates and Thomas Jefferson or Woody Allen and Roseanne?

Only time will tell.

(Now go Google COCONUT WATER, then go buy some. It's awesome.)

Coming up...who knows? But I'm always open to suggestions!!


School's In!!!

Yesterday "unofficially" ended one of the longest, hottest, driest summers I can remember.

School is back in session!!!

I'm so ready for it, and so are my girls.

I love my children and I very much enjoy spending time with them.

Just not as much time as we've spent together this summer.

There was WAY too much unsupervised time and the demand for me to create fun was stifling.

Sure, we had many moments of fun, but I am making a vow to save my money for next summer. We need some camps, classes and structure. With two girls four years apart, what's fun for one, isn't necessarily what works for the other. I tried desperately, but it was a bust.

I'm hoping my increased alone time will allow me to revive the old blog. I have really missed it.

In sadder news, I will not be attending this year's U.S. Open. My rich friend decided to invite her husband to sit in the Trump Box this year instead of me. Maybe she's still annoyed at me for inviting a bunch of people up to drink with us last year.

Since I'm saving every penny for next summer's day camps, I simply cannot justify shelling out the big bucks to attend.

If any of you are looking for a really fun companion take to the Open with you, I am ready, willing and able to oblige. I'll tell lots of funny jokes, buy you drinks and make it a memorable experience for you.

Really, and truly, it's killing me that I can't go.

Can you help a sister out?

Coming up: My diet, which has bee wildly successful and my upcoming Girl's Weekend in Atlantic City to celebrate my sister's 40th.

Stay tuned.


Pure Desperation

In exactly 10 days my children start a new school year, at which time I anticipate my brain functioning normally again.

Until that time, I am completely incapable of coming up with anything remotely clever.

I figure if I can't be clever, the least I can be is helpful to anyone who wanders over to this blog.

So here is a little something you might find interesting.

At this time, I'm going to ask any male readers to please move along to a manly blog.

You have been warned!!

Okay, if you're a woman, here is a product I just discovered...

Tampax Pearl.

I know what you're thinking..."she's 45 years old and she's just discovering Tampax?" Or maybe you're thinking. "Wow, she wasn't kidding, she IS desperate for material!!"

Whatever. I really am trying to help you, so chill.

Anyway...I have discussed this subject before, and perhaps you are familiar with my "little problem" the first couple of days of my monthly visitor. It's a real drag running to the bathroom every half hour to tend to my hygiene. When you factor in that I have to do this for approximately 24 days out of the year, feminine products are a big deal in my life.

I have been a loyal user of the standard Tampax tampons, but I got a free sample of these little gems the other day and they have set me free!

They are sooo much better than my old tampons. (Ewww.. old tampons...gross!!)

Let's just say, I can now go about my business with full confidence.

I love these so much that I now feel comfortable wearing my tennis whites each and every day of the month...JUST LIKE SERENA!!!

Take it from me...if you want powerful, convenient, leak proof protection, these are for you!!!!

Wow. This blog has really hit rock bottom. So, so sad.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for any cases of TSS or other health hazards due to reader usage of Tampax Pearl. I have not been compensated for this endorsement. I have not been compensated for ANY endorsements, but I am open to anything. You know where to reach me.


I missed my Blogiversary! And a "by request" story.

Wow. Time flies. My blog celebrated a big milestone 2 days ago and I totally missed it. I could not, for the life of me, recall how many years it has been, but then I checked my profile and lo and behold...August 2007. It's been 3 years.

Writing this blog and reading your blogs has enriched my life, so much more than I ever anticipated. I have "virtually" met so many funny, sweet, thoughtful and special people through this little hobby. You are all great.

I want to thank those who commented on my last post. I don't usually write much about my children, I'm not sure why, but for some reason, I feel a little weird about doing it...like I'm invading their privacy or something.

Anyway, I'm glad I shared some of my concerns with you, because your input was VERY helpful to me.

My mother thinks I anticipate trouble before it starts, so I am going to try to practice the art of Zen and let things be for awhile.

Thank you again for your advice.

And now, as requested by my friend Dr. Zibbs, (a fellow West Chester, PA native) I will tell you a typical night in West Chester Pennsylvania, when I was 16 years old. Zibbs asked that I include some West Chester landmarks, which I have made bold for easy reference.)

Things would usually start and end with a lie. I would tell my parents that I was going to see the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" or going to the the Chester County Library. (Those were the days before the Internet, so in order to write a report I truly DID have to go to the library, where I would usually check out a few reference books, change a few key words around and plagiarize my "work.")

I would pack up all my books to make my story look good and then I would get picked up by my friend Suzanne in her electric blue TR-7. (A gift from her Dad who wasn't around very much.)

We would then meet up with some of our college aged guy friends who liked to hang out with high school girls. Sometimes we would drive to The Courtyard Inn to get some beer and then we would cruise to the reservoir on Airport Road to drink beers, crank tunes and be complete derelicts.

Some nights we would mix things up and use our fake I.D.s to get into The Rat, or go over to Rams Gate Apartments for parties thrown by West Chester University students. (That was always fun, because we would usually run into one or two of our student teachers, which was SUCH a thrill!!!)

After that we would cruise into downtown West Chester to pick up some Chicken McNuggets at the McDonald's drive-thru on Gay Street. After that I would make them take me to the 7-11 on Boot Road to pick up some gum and Visine.

Sometimes I made it home by curfew. Usually I didn't.

My parents would grill me about where I'd been, they would smell my breath and look at my pupils to see if they were dilated. Sometimes I would get the all clear to go to bed, other times I would get screamed at and grounded.

It all depended on how much beer we drank at the reservoir or The Rat.

So there you have it Zibbs. Now it's your turn. I have lots of stories to tell, but I'm too tired and and only a small portion of my audience has any idea where West Chester is.

The other problem is that my parents read this blog and stories like this tend to upset them.

At least now you know why I get stressed out about my daughter getting older. If she turns out like me, I'm going to have to take Xanax morning, noon, and night.

Thank goodness I got that out of my system when I was a youngster.

There will be no mid-life crisis for me. I got my ya-yas out way back when, sitting by the reservoir with my derelict friends, who, by the grace of god, also turned out to be responsible adults. I'll bet their parents agonized over their children's behavior just like I do and like I know my parents did.

It's a curse.

The curse of parenthood.

The toughest job you'll ever love.


What's goin' on?

Here I sit, AGONIZING over exactly what to write.

It was so easy when I could just cut and paste my neighbor's travel blog, but that could have ruined my life, so I was ordered by husband to CEASE AND DESIST. There is so much material here, it really isn't fair. I could blog for a year about them and it would never get boring.

They did make it back, alive. One of their dogs was almost dead, (Copperhead bite to the head) but they are all alive and well and continually knocking on our front door. *sigh*

Basically, my summer has been filled with entertaining overnight guests and keeping my daughters who are four years apart in age and have totally different interests entertained.

Not an easy task.

My almost 11 year old daughter who is getting really moody and hormonal and is only happy when she's texting her friends, or actually with her friends. (She has a very small group of friends, and if none of them are available, it's a nightmare.!) I am getting a bit stressed about her entering 6th grade, where, I am told some of the meanest girl nonsense starts. She is an awesome child. Smart, sweet, funny and very kind, but SO shy and with absolutely no interest in sports. When I was her age, I would go outside and skateboard, or ride my bike, or play with the kids in the neighborhood. That's not her thing. She has a tight little group of friends, and if they aren't around, it's quite frankly, a pain in the a**! The only exercise she gets is swimming in the pool or the ocean, but if none of her friends are around, she won't go, and if I force her, she mopes around the whole day.

Am I repeating myself? That's because it's stressing me out. Can you tell?

If anyone has advice, I am open to it. This summer has been a challange for me. My younger daughter makes friends easily and just runs and plays. She can keep herself entertained and make friends wherever we go. The older one is stressing me out. BIG TIME.

I also spend huge amounts of time cleaning up after my 3 dogs, who I love dearly, but who trash my house on a continual basis.

BOOORING!!! (At least to those who have to read about it here on my blog.)

I SWEAR I will come up with something entertaining soon.

In the meantime I might have to resort to funny YouTube videos to keep the old blog going.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make my 11 year old work on her pre-algebra packet and finish her summer reading, after I confiscate her cell phone.


Please help me...PASS IT ON!

My friend Dr. Zibbs posted this on his blog and I feel that everyone in the world deserves a chance to view this amazing talent.

If you agree with me, please post this on YOUR blog.

I know my life is better because I viewed it.

Watching this clip just might have even been the best 23 seconds of my life. (Right after having my children and my wedding day...) CLASSIC.

Where were guys like this when I was in high school? I'm guessing they were deeep inside the closet.

I'm so glad this dude feels comfortable enough to let loose shake his groove thing...

Pass on the joy...


Nocturnal Admission

I am a nocturnal woman in an early bird world. Some would call me a "night owl."

I hear friends crow about how they rise at the crack of dawn, before anyone else is awake to go for a run, do a few loads of laundry and enjoy their cup of coffee before their day is filled with the demands of their husbands and children. They are so proud of themselves!!! Being an early bird is so admirable!! I discovered today that these bright eyed and bushy-tailed folks are called "larks." If you were blessed with the "lark" gene, you are a lucky person indeed.

I, on the other hand, am not so blessed. Being a night owl housewife is just plain shameful. (Unless of course, you're nursing a baby, or working the night shift at the emergency room.) I would love to go for a run, drink a cup of coffee and vacuum the house, at 1:30 am. The only problem is, these are all activities which are stimulants, which would result in my staying up ALL NIGHT, which would be fine with me, if I could sleep until 11.

If you want to have a good old time with me, come on over to my house at around 10 pm. I am a bundle of laughs at 10 pm. I am not, however, pleasant to be around at 6 am. (The only exception to that is when I'm curled up under my comforter snoring. And YES, I do snore.)

My energy level hits its stride around 4 pm. At 11 pm I am still rarin' to go. Tonight at 12:20 am I sat in my closet organizing sweaters, quietly, so as not to wake my slumbering husband. I felt ashamed. I should be sleeping, like all the other respectable citizens in this town. What's even more shameful is getting snagged in my pajamas at 10 am by some go-getter neighbor who has been up for 5 hours before I even open my eyes. Get off your high horse you annoying lark!!!!

I've been like this since I was a kid. When I was as young as 7, I would sneak a flashlight into my room and read until way after midnight. Sometimes I would even sneak and turn on records quietly in my room. The mornings were a nightmare. "Just five more minutes Mom, I'm sooo tired!!!"

According to my research, our internal body clocks (or circadian) sleep-wake cycle, which regulates hormone levels, body temperature, blood pressure, alertness and performance ability is genetic. My poor children have inherited my night owl gene. If we had it our way we'd all stay up until midnight, EVERY night. It is my job to fight our natural body clocks and function in our 9 to 5 society. Some school mornings, it gets just plain ugly around here.

Why can't my body clock work in a more socially acceptable way? Believe me, I've tried it, on myself and my kids.

I cruised the internet and came up with some pretty obvious tips to change my owl-like ways:

1. Set your wake-up time -- and then stick to it like glue. Ideally you should get up at the same time every morning, including -- gasp! -- those precious weekends. If you sleep more than 90 minutes later on a Saturday or Sunday, you will affect your body clock, readjusting it to the later wake-up time just as you have to get up early again Monday morning.

2. Seek light. Immediately upon awakening, expose yourself to bright light for at least 20 minutes, either by walking or exercising outside or using a special light box or portable light visor around the house, with approximately 10,000 lux of light.

3. Try melatonin. It's important to discuss this first with you doctor, but for many people, taking this over-the-counter supplement -- a synthetic version of the natural hormone -- about six hours before you want to go to sleep can help regulate your body clock.

4. Put yourself in a position where you can sleep. Avoid eating, alcohol, caffeine and exercise, which rev up the body, for at least a few hours before bedtime, and then turn off the TV, power down the Internet and get off the phone. Instead, turn to your MP3 player for some mellow music or a "boring" book on tape. That way you'll evade additional light exposure and be able to start winding down. "If you keep moving, keep doing things, you're going to override any sleep signals you want to be reinforcing,"

As you can see, there is no hope for me, except to change my nature. If you were born a "lark." God bless, you can just go with the lord gave you and the world will applaud your vim and vigor.

I, on the other hand, will have to fight all my natural tendencies in order to fit in with society.

It's not fair I tell you!!!

I think I'm going to start a revolution. This country is all about equal opportunity for all people. Am I right here?? I think we should have special programs in our schools for "night owl" children. Perhaps we can hire some special "night owl" teachers to start the school day at 11 am.

I'm tired of being discriminated against! Why should I have to fight the way I was born just because society tells me I have to get up at 7!!!???

Are you with me here? What do you think? If you're a night owl, do you feel sick and tired of trying to fit into society's schedule?

I think President Obama should take some of that stimulus money he has and implement some programs designed to help "night owls"function better in society.

I'm going to start my own group, and I'm calling it the NAANO. The National Association for the Advancement of Night Owls.

Say it loud and say it proud. "NAANO!!"

A representative from my organization might be calling you or come knocking on your door to ask for your support. When they do, please keep an open mind. Try not to see night owls as lazy, or strange. Remember, we were born this way, and we just want to be accepted.

Okay, I'm actually tired now.

Good night.

Please don't call my house before 9 am.

And please don't judge me.

Thank you for your support on behalf of the NAANO.



You all know how busy the summer is...especially when you have the kids with you ALL THE TIME for two and a half months, like I do...so I'm taking the lazy woman's way out and combining my Facebook page, with my blog.

Last night my husband and I along with our good buddies had a blast at a Steve Winwood/Santana concert at the PNC Arts Center here in beautiful Central Jersey.

Here are some photos from our very fun, very sweaty evening.

Here's me, with my $14 frozen margarita in a special guitar "souvenir glass" which I promptly tossed when I finished sucking this baby down.

Here are some of our bestest buds and a random dude after we switched over to beer.

Here is a distorted photo that I took of myself and my sweet husband Brad, we celebrated 12 years of wedded bliss on Saturday.

Here's my review of the concert. Steve Winwood, awesome, sounds exactly the same as he did way back when. His songs really brought me back to my younger days. He looked pretty old, which of course made me a bit sad. I know we are all getting older, but I still don't like to think about it. Perhaps I should see a shrink to discuss my aversion to the inevitable passing of time.

Santana...well...let me tell you...UNFRICKENBELIEVABLE. I saw them years ago. (About 25 years ago!) I liked them back then, but I looooved them now. Their music is perfect for an outdoor summer concert, totally hot, everyone was dancing, and smiling and having a blast.

Carlos Santana's parting words to the audience were "you are the light and the love."

As corny as it sounds, I really felt it last night.

Good times.


An observation....

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, if I have, please forgive me, I'm getting to that stage of life where I tell the same stories over and over. I'm also getting to the stage in life where you would THINK most women wouldn't be able to wear bikinis in public and look halfway decent.

You would think that wouldn't you?

Well, I have to say, there are a ton of women at my beach, who are in their mid forties and look AWESOME in bikinis.

Damn them.

I kind of thought I was past the age where I'd have to feel pressure to look hot. I thought this was my time to wear a mom bathing suit and a mu mu, while I apply sunblock on my daughters and read "Good Housekeeping" magazine by the pool.

Apparently not. It seems lately everyone my age is looking BUFF and strutting their stuff. WTF? Why are you doing this to me? Can't we all be soft, chubby, middle aged ladies together?

Playing tennis does not cut it for me. If I want to join the over 40 bikini club, I'm going to have to step it up and dedicate myself fully to getting ripped. If I start now, maybe, just maybe, next summer, when I'm 46 I'll be playing frisbee on the beach while I sport a hot little string bikini.

So tell me, are you one of those hateful middle aged women who look a cover girl from "Shape" magazine? It's okay if you are, you can admit it. I won't hate you. Maybe you can inspire me.

If you sport a Lands' End tankini with an Old Navy cover up over it, like me, that's okay too. Please make yourself heard. I need to know I'm not alone.

That's all I've got today. Now I'm going to scoot over to my neighbor's cross country travel blog, so I can feel a bit better about myself.




I have been blogging for almost three years and FINALLY I met a fellow blog buddy, FACE TO FACE!

Today I met Patty from Preppy Player . My niece was playing in the "Lax for The Cure" lacrosse tournament in New Egypt, NJ today and I knew Patty was a vendor there, so I stopped in and payed her a little surprise visit. (Although it turns out it wasn't really a surprise since my sister stopped by a few hours before I did and told Patty my plan.)

It was so great to finally meet her, she is so cute, as is her daughter Michaela. We talked tennis for awhile and then it was time for a little shopping at her awesome booth. She has the best selection of adorable items including great Scout bags, pajama pants, painted tubs, tunics and jewelry. I got the prettiest preppiest bangle bracelet set that Patty put together for me, (she has great taste ) and she even gave me a nice little "blog friend" discount.

Of course I forgot to bring my camera, but we did manage to take a picture of us with my Blackberry.

Oh and BTW...I removed my previous posts. I am discontinuing my "series." My family has all advised me that I'm playing with fire, so I am done.

Thanks for tuning in.

Now I have to come up with material all by myself.



There's Something About Sarah...

I have always loved Sarah McLachlan, so I was thrilled to learn that the Grammy award winning, singer/songwriter released her long awaited new album, LAWS OF ILLUSION on June 15th!

The album is fueled by the deterioration of McLachlan's 11 year marriage and all the songs are really touching and poignant.

The album’s first single is “Loving You Is Easy” is my favorite, it points an optimistic face towards the future and the tune is really catchy.

My second favorite song "Bring on the Wonder,” is one of the album's most beautiful. It's very simple, with McLachlan's voice singing over piano.

All in all, this is a perfect album to put on when you want to relax, and cut out some of the clamor from your life. I'm going to keep it in the minivan to pop in whenever I need to chill.

I love it, and I think you will too!

You can purchase a copy of Sarah’s new Album "Laws of Illusion" from
Amazon or you can purchase the single " Loving you is Easy" on iTunes or Amazon right now.

I would like to thank the One2One Network for providing me with a copy of the Sarah McLachlan Laws of Illusion CD for the purpose of this review.


Who needs therapy when you have a pole?

How many of you watched last night's episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey? HOLY HOBAGS!

You know what I'm talking about...the scene where Danielle tries to get her sexual confidence back by taking all her buddies to a strip joint for stripper pole lessons. Did you miss it? If you did, you are lucky. I can't get the image out of my head of 70 year old Kim "G". awkwardly mounting the pole in her saggy tight boy shorts and white thong. I seriously felt sick thinking of her son and family watching this crap. Why??? What is she going to get out of this humiliation? I don't get it.

I was dying watching the look on Danielle's face as her friends struggled to straddle the pole like pros. She was salivating and couldn't WAIT to show them up. And show them up she did!! She really came alive on that stage, gyrating on the pole and bending over in front of Danny and crew to give them a better view of her entire ass. Her grand finale included some incredibly intricate stripper moves including an impressive full spread eagle on the floor, followed by a split that would have killed lesser women.

How empowering and inspiring she is for women everywhere.

I was moved by how impressed Danielle's friends were at her skills as a pole dancer. How supportive of of Danny and his friends to drool, hoot and fling one-dollar bills at the her. (Which she stuffed into her panties.)

It was a bitter sweet moment. On the one hand, she was reliving the thrill of having men throw money at her for giving them a boner. On the other hand, it was only one-dollar bills. In the old days, it was fifty and one hundred dollar bills.

What do you expect Danielle? Times have changed. We're in a recession. Even hot strippers like you have to cut back.

The most touching part of it all is Danielle's friendship with the ex-con Danny. What a great guy. So sweet of him to join Danielle's crusade to enter back into the dating world and reclaim her womanhood. That, my friends, is a man who has been rehabilitated and is now a contributing member of our society. The more I think about it, the more empowered and touched I feel.

It all makes me very proud to be a resident of the great Garden State.

Would someone please pass me a tissue?

Im getting all faklempt.


Time in a Bottle...(Volume 1)

The other day I was at the liquor store, shopping for the ingredients for my world famous sangria, when I passed a bottle of Goldschlager on the shelf.

Suddenly, I became very nostalgic and floods of memories of liquor runs past came rushing back to me in waves.

It seemed that each bottle had a memory and a great (or horrible) story attached to it. I have decided to chronicle my experiences with a few of these bottles of booze in a series entitled "Time in a Bottle."

I'll start with a classic, Southern Comfort. As I the gazed at the old fashioned bottle full of amber liquid, I was transported back to the summer after my freshman year of high school. A bunch of kids in my neighborhood were wandering around aimlessly goofing around when my friend's older brother ran into some bushes in the back of his house and pulled out a brown paper bag. The bag contained none other than a big old bottle of SoCo.

I didn't miss a beat. We ripped the top off the bottle and proceeded to swig down the bottle in no time flat. No peer pressure here, I couldn't WAIT to chug down as much of that nasty brown liquid as I could get my greedy little hands on.

Things get a little hazy, but do have vague recollections of sitting on my friend's brothers lap, staggering around and then sneaking upstairs to my room before my parents saw me.

My next memory is the room spinning, trying to get out of bed and then vomiting into my trash can next to my bed.

Needless to say, I was a mess. I weighed less than a 100 lbs and I had consumed almost half a bottle of warm bourbon in less than half an hour.

Unfortunately, I didn't get away with it. My parents returned from an evening out with their friends to find their 14 year old daughter passed out on the bed with a trash can full of puke next to her.

All I remember hearing is my mom's voice. "Billy, she's drunk."

My dad attempted to reprimand me, but I was in no shape to defend myself, or even feel remorse. UNTIL THE NEXT MORNING.

At 7 am SHARP, I was rudely awakened by my father who announced that we would spend the day doing yard work, in the hot sun. It was hell. Sheer hell. To add to it, I was grounded for 2 weeks, which for me at that age, was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me. To sit at home knowing that everyone else was out having a great time wandering around the neighborhood doing nothing, KILLED me.

And now, 30 years later, I still can't get near a bottle of bourbon, without having my stomach contract. That stuff is nasty.

I will end this post with a prayer.

Please sweet Jesus. I know I haven't always been a good person, but PLEASE spare me having to find one of my daughters in this predicament. I pray that my daughters have inherited my husband's "good boy" gene and not their mother's "bad girl" gene. Are there any geneticists reading this? If so, please tell me. Which gene is dominant?

To be continued...


A.D.H.D. It Ain't No Fairy Tale...

Today I am "in a mood."

There's nothing or no one to blame. I'm just feeling overwhelmed. The laundry keeps piling up, along with the piles of dog hair, the weeds in the garden and the dishes in the sink. I keep plodding along, washing, folding, vacuuming, scrubbing...and it keeps getting dirty over and over and OVER again. I try to be positive, like Cinderella happily doing her chores. And then...I get distracted, so I decide to Google..."Cinderella happily doing her chores." and I come up with this little gem:

I don't feel sorry for Cinderella anymore. Now, I know the truth about the little brat. In truth, she is a spoiled child of loving parents. She suffers from ADHD and a huge case of selfishness with a side order of self-pity.

That raggedy old dress you see her in all the time, in truth, it was brand new last week. Instead of changing into her work clothes for chore time, she'd wear it to pick berries, clean the ashes out of the fireplace, and an assortment of other mundane tasks, all of which she had been told a hundred times before not to do in her good clothes. That raggedy old dress you see her in all the time, in truth, it was brand new last week. Instead of changing into her work clothes for chore time, she'd wear it to pick berries, clean the ashes out of the fireplace, and an assortment of other mundane tasks, all of which she had been told a hundred times before not to do in her good clothes.

The reason she seems to always be doing chores while her stepsisters were playing was because she spent ten times the time doing her chores as it took the average person to do them. It also didn't help that she kept getting sidetracked playing with the pesky mice rather than staying focused on what she was doing.

(You can catch the rest of this article here...)

OMG!! I knew I loved Cinderella!! We are sooo much alike! I wish Disney would do a "very special" episode of Cinderella and Prince Charming's marriage on Disney Family. Perhaps they could delve into Cinderella's dirty little secret, and how her handsome young husband copes with her issues.

Does he accept Cinderella's condition lovingly? Or does he explode in a rage when he returns from a long day ruling the kingdom, to find that Cindy ordered a pizza for dinner and forgot to pick up his dry cleaning.

Does Cinderella go on Adderall? What is she taking that keeps that perpetual smile plastered on her face?

I can't answer for Cinderella, but I can speak for myself.

I might not have all the laundry done...EVER. I may never learn to enjoy scrubbing toilets, but I am very blessed, and so, like Cinderella, I will strive to keep a positive attitude, despite the frustration we cause those closest to us.

This is my Facebook status today:
Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at
least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we
didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us
all be thankful. ~Buddha
The Buddha, Cinderella and me. We make a great team.

Oh and P.S. If you call me lazy, selfish, or spoiled, I will slap you with a lawsuit...I have a DISABILITY, you got that? No, I haven't been diagnosed by a doctor, but it IS a huge issue. It's not nice to make fun of people who have problems. So don't do it.


Love ya. xoxoxo


A True Inspiration

I received this e-mail from a very good friend of mine. Please take a moment to vote for her Grandmother, she is a sweetheart and it would mean the world to her if she won this contest!!

My 96-year old Grandmother, Grace, is in a contest for older Americans called Age Strong! Live Long! sponsored by the US Administration of Aging.

I wanted to ask you for a favor, if you could please check out the website below and go to the Video Entry #41 to vote for my grandmother ~ I know she would appreciate it!!

As you can tell by the video she is an amazing woman! For those of you who know her personally feel free to send this out to your friends.
Here is the website:

Video Entry #41

Voting ends tomorrow night, Friday May 28th, at midnight.
Thanks and God Bless~


Tennis Freaks...

My USTA women's team tennis season started last week. As you may or may not recall, a member of my team got IN MY FACE a couple of weeks back over a late call.

On Monday she SCREAMED at our coach when he was trying to correct a problem she had.

Today our lineup went out for a match we're playing tomorrow. The "loose cannon" and her partner were not in the lineup.

This is the e-mail my team captain (and friend) received a few minutes ago.

Subject: Making things right...

Dear Sue and Sally-

As captains of a USTA tennis team ourselves, we understand and appreciate all the work that goes into managing a team. We know how tricky lineups can be, with so many schedules to honor, who can partner with who, measuring how strong/weak the opposing teams are, etc. However, we notice that your philosophy and methods of managing lineups are HUGELY different than ours.

We are not proponents of welcoming and inviting players to be on a team and not giving them fair playing time, especially when a player pays for registration, a uniform and puts in many hours and money in practice time. We try to keep the team to only 12 players plus subs, so that everyone can play a lot of matches. If a player makes the investment of time and money, they deserve to play equally. (our 3.0 team chips in and pays for our subs's registration fees).

It was our intention that we were part of your regular lineup, not subs or second string players - if you wanted us to be this type of player for your team, we should have been told this from DAY ONE - we feel like we were terribly misled. Especially since we have done so well in all the practices and been consistently praised by teammates and Sergei, we felt like we earned our stripes and earned your support. Now, though, seeing your lineups for the last few matches, we are forced to make the assumption that you guys do NOT think we are strong enough players to be on your team and maybe you are too focused on the "3.0" next to our names.

Honestly, we feel we have proved worthy to play on your team through:

a) coach recommendations
b) practice play - we've consistently won matches against many of our teammates during practice sessions
c) we gave you both an excellent run for your money when we play you guys in practice runs!

So with all this being said, we would like to withdraw from playing on your team. Please take us off your team's email list. This just isn't working for us. You seem to be winning your matches without us anyway so God bless, don't let us interfere. We'd rather just concentrate on our 3.0 team and play well there, and most importantly keep our confidence up and keep having fun! We do not have hard feelings--it is just better for our psyche not to be put on schedules only to be taken off again, and be disappointed and wondering why.

Yes, we would have enjoyed playing at a level that is more challenging to our tennis skills. However, we prefer to earn our 3.5 status through our own achievements, which we're TOTALLY convinced we can do and maybe already done, and next year join or coach a team that treats players equally and openly, building tennis partners and friensdhips on the way....making this our priority. We are proud to say that we have this relationship with all our 3.0 players. So far, we have not felt this kind of camaraderie on your team.***

Good luck to you all in all your tennis endeavors! We hope you guys earn the really, really big trophy you seem to be striving for!

Wow. As always, flying off the handle.

And the saga continues...as always, the real drama in ladies tennis is usually played out off the courts.

The season has just begun...stay tuned for more backstabbing, outbursts, gossip and hurt feelings. Yeah, yeah, I know, I should take up yoga. What can I tell you? My love for the game is strong enough that I deal with this absolute insanity.

Now that, my friends, is dedication.

*** HINT: You might feel a bit more camaraderie if you didn't SCREAM at people when you disagree with them.


A Bloggy Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, in kingdom called Jersey, there was a lady who had a little blog. She loved the blog with all her heart and devoted many hours writing posts about her life in the magical land of suburbia.

But alas, the lady became distracted and began to neglect her blog. She spent time in other pursuits, while her little blog sat, alone, untouched and lonely. (Much like the mountain of laundry sitting in the corner of her bedroom.)

One fine day in May the lady went back to Caffeine Court. Her heart broke when she recalled all the hours of joy she shared writing and visiting her virtual friends in their kingdoms.

As she scrolled through her archives and relived moments of victory and defeat on the tennis court, happy moments spent at the makeup counter at Saks Fifth Avenue, and sad moments, such as the time her husband almost murdered her in cold blood when she purchased her third dog. She laughed and cried (not really, but it sounds dramatic) as she reflected on her life.

She took comfort in knowing that someday, she and her blog would be reunited, and she began to feel the old feelings of bloggy love stirring within her heart.

to be continued....


Wisdom of the Ages

Just checking in to let you know that I am still alive. My blog is pretty much dead, but I am very much alive.

Last week I celebrated a somewhat milestone birthday. The big 45. That combined with Mother's Day made it quite a week, which included dinners out, manicures/pedicures, guilt free shopping and lots of hugs and kisses from the family.

Since I am reaching my golden years, I thought I'd share some of the wisdom I have accumulated over the past 45 years.

Here goes:

Anyone who talks continually about how "nice" he or she is, probably isn't. I know this sounds harsh, but I've noticed it's pretty consistently true.

There is no avoiding the passage of time, so enjoy where you are NOW.

You might THINK you know someone else's life, but you DON'T ever really know, so don't judge others too harshly. Be kind.

If someone is talking trash about other people to you, you can be darned sure they are talking trash about you.

You cannot change even other people. Don't even try . Accept and love others as they are, not as you think they should be. Everyone will be much happier if you do.

I've got more, but in order to avoid sounding preachy, I'll leave it at that.

In other news, I had my first tennis match of the USTA season. We won, in a tense third set tie-breaker. As far as ladies' housewife tennis goes, it was quite a dramatic battle, but we emerged victorious by 2 measly points. The line between victory and defeat can be so thin sometimes. We hung in there, and never gave up, and this time around, things ended up in our favor. (You can add that one to the list of stuff I've learned in my life!)

If you've got any pearls of wisdom you'd like to add, please do!

I might be old, but I'm always open to good advice.


The Healthiest Girl in the Poor House....

Right next to the club where I play tennis is an amazing health food market. They have the most delicious smoothies, a fabulous bakery section chock full of goodies made without artificial colors, flavors, sweeteners, preservatives or trans fats. Their organic produce is beautiful and all the snacks for the kids are all natural with no crazy sounding chemicals in the ingredients.

For the past couple of months I have become a regular and I wish I could shop there for all my groceries. I love the whole experience, and I get a kick out of how mellow all the employees are. So Zen. They move slowly and with purpose as if they are filled with the peace and joy of the Buddha. My new pal Justin who works the juice and smoothie bar sees me walk in and my strawberry smoothie with soy milk and bee pollen is in the blender before I have a chance to utter a word. It's my own little oasis of calm, nestled in the heart of Jersey.

The only catch.... CHA-CHING!!

As I balanced the checkbook it became abundantly clear to me that my little healthy food addiction is going to put us in the poor house.

I did a little Google search and apparently I'm not the first blogger to write about this. (Damn, and here I thought I was so original and groundbreaking! )

There are a ton of great articles on the subject. Go ahead, do it, Google "high price of healthy food." About a million journalists and about 2 million bloggers have beat me to the punch.

One of the best and easiest to read articles I found was from Time Magazine, "Getting Real About the High Cost of Cheap Food."

The gist of the article is that it is just plain cheaper and easier to buy food that is bad for us.

Some possible solutions:

I could give up some things, like tennis, trips to Banana Republic or getting my hair highlighted every six weeks to finance my trips to the Health Fair, but I think we all know that I'm too shallow and selfish to do something that drastic.

I could get a job (doing what I don't know...maybe a stock girl at Whole Foods???) to pay for my new interest in pure, fresh, flavorful, cruelty free food.

I could build a greenhouse and a barn in the backyard and start growing my own veggies and harvesting my own milk and eggs.

or...I could get real and face the fact that I'm going to have to mix it up.

Some days we'll have to throw caution to the wind and eat chemically tainted apples, abused cows and piles of refined white sugar. We won't feel good about it, but at least we will be able to pay the mortgage every month.

When we start to get sluggish and chubby, we'll switch back to the healthy stuff.

There are tears in my eyes as I write this. I'm going to miss Justin and all the crunchy, easy going folks at the Health Food Market. Maybe it WOULD be worth it to have mousy brown grey streaked hair and STILL drink a smoothie every day. Maybe my neighbors would like the sound of mooing cows and clucking chickens waking them at the crack of dawn everyday. I'll bet they'd admire my commitment to healthy eating and would overlook the smell of manure wafting from my back yard. Maybe my new job could be farming my 50' X 150' lot and SELLING my bounty directly to the Health Fair.

This could be big. I wouldn't even need to play tennis because I'd be so buff from picking strawberries and bailing hay.

I think I'm onto something here.

To be continued....

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