A Walk of a Different Kind

Since they’ve been born, my kids have been roping me into one television fad or another. Some stick. Some I hate, but others I can deal with. Hannah Montana wasn’t the end of the world, and SpongeBob Squarepants? That, before too long, became an addiction. Nothing, I’m afraid, prepared me for the latest round — “The Walking Dead.” Have you seen it? You wouldn’t forget it if you did.

The show profiles a group of strangers who come together to survive and (hopefully) build a new life in a world where zombies seem to have the upper hand. When my daughter asked me to watch the first episode with her (ah, the power of Netflix!!), I thought OK … one time, one episode. How bad can it be? BIG mistake. I was HOOKED! And please note, I am not into the whole zombie thing, even been known to call it DUMB. I still think that to a large degree, even though they attempted to explain the process of zombification in Season One. That being said, there’s something to be said for the life and death struggle they face daily. And, in some ways, it’s not all that different that my soap opera addiction, The Young and the Restless. Half of those characters (at least) are zombies of a different type, if you think about it. Granted, they are much better looking than the gross-outs from The Walking Dead, but I’m telling you, looks truly aren’t everything.

At the very least, the whole show gets you thinking. WHAT IF???? Last time I was at the grocery store I spent a lot more time in the canned food aisle, wondering how many wax beans it would take me to make it through a year. Or, me, the queen of peaceful resolve, was daydreaming about a rendezvous at the local shooting range. Can’t be too careful, and you need to protect what is yours (people or saltines!). Might want to spend a little time honing up on the knife and bow/arrow skills, too – just call me Katniss (dare to dream)!

If you’ve got some spare time on Sunday night, and can handle a little (or maybe more than a little) fake blood, check it out. Just don’t get too attached to any of the main characters …. J

Enjoy!

Cindy

Get Rid of It!!

While I’m sure that hoarders have been around since the dawn of time, it seems that, thanks to “reality TV,” the whole phenomenon has been brought into the spotlight. And I am not gonna lie… I am very strangely addicted to these shows! At first I think it was like rubber necking at an accident … you know it’s bad, but you can’t stop watching, then, for me, it became something more than that. It turned into a paranoia. I have a stack of magazines on the kitchen table – am I a hoarder? I have about 10 bottles of body wash – am I a hoarder?  I found two dirty tissues in the sofa – am I a hoarder? I always thought of myself as a little careless when it comes to keeping track of stuff, or maybe a little bit lazy about putting stuff away, but I never thought of it as potentially being the start of a much bigger problem.

The thing I don’t understand is the loose definition of “hoarding.” I always thought hoarding meant you just kept a lot of stuff, but it was usable, useful stuff. Of course most of it you don’t need, but you know you MIGHT need it someday! The thing I don’t get is that there seems to be a VERY fine line between hoarding and amassing a disgusting trash dump inside your house. I never considered it hoarding if you simply chose to throw your Snickers wrapper on the floor instead of putting it in the garbage. Even if you had 300 Snickers wrappers on the floor, I still don’t see that as hoarding. And, using the Snickers example, my son is a Hoarder, I suppose! But those things happen, poor dear, with the garbage can in his room more than two feet from his bed. I should be getting that Bad Parent of the Decade Award anytime now, right?

What seems to get most hoarders, and probably most of us in general, is that whole “I am going to really, really, really need that some day. True. You might need that oversized souvenir drink glass from Medieval Times. You might even need that Lance Bass bobblehead. But I doubt you will ever need that googly-eyed refrigerator magnet that spends more time on the kitchen floor than on the fridge door. What do you do? GET RID OF IT! Alarms won’t sound if you put it in the trash, and the skies won’t rain down on you!  Don’t wind up on TV. Well, if you wind up on TV, make it for something worthwhile, like being the long-lost Kardashian sister or the country’s newest lottery winner! It’s all about perception, and dead animals and rotting eggplant won’t do a lot for you social life.

To sum it up, keep it clean, girls!!! I mean, if George Clooney stops by unexpectedly, you want to be prepared… well, that’s MY motivation anyway! J

Enjoy your day!

What was he thinking?

With my oldest turning 20 years old recently, I've unknowingly waded into yet another uncharted parenting territory. I figured by this point in my life i would have seen it all, either in real life or on TV, and would surely get totally shocked by anything he did far less often. Sadly, this has not been the case. Let me make the disclaimer ***HE IS A GOOD KID*** OK, with that out of the way, it doesn't mean that all of this "good kid's" decisions are going to be wise ones, but I did make the (ever so foolish) assumption that he knew enough not to lay himself down on the tracks of the food poisoning express.

If you are at all familiar with the White Castle fast food franchise, you know that even on a good day with the "sliders" you are risking gastrointestinal distress. In fact, I have long held the theory that White Castle is owned by the makers of Imodeum, and I KNOW most of you know what I am talking about (sparing you the details, you can thank me later). Here's the lowdown. He had been out with friends and came home at about midnight with a bag of White Castle cheeseburgers, chicken rings and fries. Apparently he lost his appetite somewhere between the front door and the basement sofa because he fell asleep before taking one bite. I mean, given the chance to sleep or tease my stomach in the wee hours of the night, I would choose sleep hand's down, so I don't blame him there. It's what happened next that had me picking up my jaw from the floor....

Flash forward about nine hours. I decided to treat myself to some excitement around 11 a.m., and threw in some laundry (my basement also doubles as a laundry room, craft room and teen entertainment zone). I see him sitting on the basement sofa, he never made it upstairs, instead choosing to give in to the temptations of our exotic Value City sofa (the stuff dreams are made of!). Here's how this breaks down, much better in dialogue form:

"I was going to go into work, but my stomach is not feeling so good," he said.
"What's wrong, oh loving son?" I said (I embellished the part after the oh, BTW)
"I ate that White Castle," he said.
"Did you put the bag in the fridge last night?," I said... YOU KNOW, THE MINI FRIDGE THAT IS FOUR FEET FROM YOUR REAR END???? (again, I did not say this but boy did I want to!
**are you ready for this???*
"No," he said.
"So you ate White Castle that had been sitting out for about 10 hours?" I said, about to blow.
"Yes," he said.
"Why?" I said.
"Because I was hungry,"he said.
"WHAT??? Are you kidding me??????" I said. I mean, this part was almost too logical to get angry about, the more I thought about it.

That's the good part. I figured if White Castle hadn't already killed him at some point in his life, it probably wasn't going to now, and maybe some of the grease had even evaporated ... off chance that it could have even gotten less dangerous... probably the only food where that could be the case. That all being said, I did have some fun with him and told him he better stay home all day (he had a day full of plans) and rest, you know, it could hit him at any point. He was not happy about that but was too afraid to move a muscle to argue with me. I told him next time maybe invest the three steps over to the fridge to put the bag away.

Message received, albeit the long way.

Anyway, that's life in my house, never a dull or un-nauseous moment! :)

Enjoy the day,

Cindy

My $100 Windfall

Hello!!

One regular Christmas gift from my mom is a handful of instant scratch-off lottery tickets. While I never expect to fund a retirement account from any winnings, there's that lottery dream moment that you automatically get because until you rub that coin across the shiny gray spot, the world COULD be yours ... and this is the promise that keeps state lottery systems booming year after year.

As I worked my way through the 10 tickets, my dream faded slowly, but with a hint of promise because I had a few free ticket winners, and a $2 winner. In my mind, to keep the lottery gods on my side, any winnings go back into the "pot" for the purchase of more lottery tickets, with the plan of having a never-ending supply of tickets (and big hopes!) coming my way. Now we both know that never quite works out... the luck always eventually runs out. This time was pretty much like any other. My five new tickets turned into four, and four turned into three.

There I was with my three little potential pots o' gold, saving them to savor after everyone had gone to bed... just me, a glass of Arnold Palmer iced tea, a day old donut, the TV remote, my tickets and a quarter (due to unexplainable superstitions, I refuse to scratch off my tickets with anything less than a quarter). And, since I am the one responsible for the vacuuming in the house (NO... vacuuming once a year does not entitle you to say you vacuum here), I was scratching them off over a magazine because those weird little shavings get everywhere! My butt hadn't even settled into the groove in the sofa when lo and behold.... the very first spot was kind of implying that I had won $100. I reached for my reading glasses. Still $100. I reached for my bifocals. Still $100. What? I wanted to scream, but then I figured the dogs would start barking so I thought better of it. I looked at the clock... it was midnight... everyone I knew was sleeping, so I couldn't even TELL anyone! I put it in a safe place, sent out some very braggy e-mails and Twitter posts, counted on some sweet dreams, then headed to bed.

The next day at 6 a.m., funnily enough, come to find out that no one seems that excited about a $100 windfall in my house. I still was!!! I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with the money. Do I buy $100 in instant tickets? Probably not. Seems kind of showy!! Also seems kind of dumb. Should I put it toward those Oakley sunglasses I wanted at Macy's? Should I take it to the casino and have 400 pulls on the quarter slot machine? Should I put it toward the $500 payment on my son's camera for school? Uh, no. How did that thought even sneak in there?? This is FUN money! And now, three weeks later, I still don't know! I still have that ticket tucked safely away and I check on it often .... is it weird that I peek at it three times (or more) a day? I figure when the right expenditure comes along, I'll know it.

It has got me thinking, can you imagine if I ever did hit the "big one"? I might actually do a real backflip, which would be the first backflip of my life. At least I'd have money for the chiropractor!! :)

Until the money tree grows in my back yard.... I wish you all a great day!

Hugs,

Cindy

The Not-So-Secret Life of My Dramatic American Teenager

Hi friends,

My daughter is halfway through her freshman year of high school, and I am beginning to think I should have put her in a performing arts school because the drama she is kicking out lately would surely have her at the top of the class and starring in a first-class Broadway production.

See, I was an easy kid at that age.... stayed home a lot, happy just talking on my baby blue Trimline phone and playing Atari (I was a beast at Frogger!!). I never had a car, didn't want the responsibility that came along with it, but had a blast all the same. Fast forward 30 years. Now, while my daughter is a beautiful girl, smart and funny, I am sure somewhere I am in the middle of a big karma payback because she is putting me through heck and back. You name it, it's complicated or emotional. If it's food, we have calories, fat and sodium. She has COMPLETELY ruined Twinkies for me, and for that I can't easily forgive!! If it's clothes, it's not Kohl's, Sears or Penney's, it's Buckle, Hollister, Gilly Hicks and Abercrombie. I am pretty sure her body would turn to dust if she put anything other than a super-cool name brand on it. And boots, it's all about UGG, and trust me, at $200 a pair, I am saying UGG (ok, I know it's UGH!!) a lot. Her latest pair were gold sequin boots, which I told her made her look like C3PO from Star Wars (and yes, she said, "WHO??"). The kid hasn't seen one Star Wars movie, can you believe it? Sorry, I digress. BUT... the worst of all is BOYS....

Boys!!!! Like I said, she is cute, charming, obviously well dressed (and soon likely to be living in a box because of it!) and socially has mastered things I still don't get and surely never will. Maybe most importantly, she knows how to "work" her hair... mine gets 10 strokes of the brush (on a good day), and we call it done. This all adds up to her having an easy time meeting and being comfortable around the opposite sex. Recently she came across the love of her life (du jour) at the drive-through of a local fast-food restaurant. Via his name tag, and through the magic of social media (THANKS A LOT FACEBOOK!) she found out who he was, sent a friend request and the rest was history. He took the bait and ran with it, and soon enough he asked her to "do something," and two weeks ago they hung out at his house. The first six days were heaven on earth, and she was in la-la land, which I am not going to lie, had me really wanting to GAG. Naturally, it didn't take long before she saw the downside of dating an upper classman and Mr. Hot and Super-Dee-Duper turned into Mr. I Don't Understand Why He's Like That. In other words, the last 10 days or so have been like living a nightmare, like a Taylor Swift song that I can't get off of replay. Now that I think of it, maybe drama is an understated word for it, and just maybe, the right word hasn't been invented, but I'm working on it... so keep me in your thoughts because my sanity has its bags packed and is ready to catch the next flight....

Anyway, it's good to be back... feel free to follow me on Twitter at cindytwit... you can find daily doses of my life and times there....

Love and hugs to all!

Cindy