How much do your dreams cost?

Mine cost fourteen dollars and twenty-five cents.

For some reason, it seems more real spelling it out like that.

And I'm taking it as a good omen that the stamps I bought for my self-addressed return envelope were called "Wisdom" stamps. Hopefully, the publishers will take that as a good omen as well and save the stamps to use on somebody else's envelope.

* * * * *

I am not a risk taker. I live a very comfortable life, sewing in my little shop, playing with my kids, doing laundry --

--oh, hang on a second, I have to switch loads --

--okay, I'm back. The point I was trying to make is this: I'm very happy going day to day, week to week, living the daily struggle of maintaining this comfortable, if somewhat humble, lifestyle.
Why shake it up?

To which I have to answer: Why not?

Seriously, this is scariest thing I've ever done. It's even scarier than childbirth. My hands were shaking as I printed out my manuscript, and I nearly threw up on the postal worker as he took my precious baby out of my hands. I contemplated for a split second jumping over the counter and snatching it back...

...but then I would have gotten arrested, and that would kind of defeat the purpose I'm trying to achieve.

What is the purpose I'm trying to achieve?

Oh, yes, going after your dreams. My friend Jenn did a Year of No Fear challenge last year, and that is part of what inspired me to take this plunge. I am not afraid of anything -- well, spiders and thunderstorms don't really count -- and large needles, and my children getting abducted at the mall. And I'm not afraid of bungee jumping -- I'm just afraid I'd lose my bladder control on the way down...

Honestly, the whole reason why I'm doing this is for my kids. I've been making up stories for them since they were born, and they are my biggest fans and supporters. One day, when Sara was still wearing diapers, I found some old stories I wrote for my Creative Writing class at BYU (back when I thought I was going to be an English Major), and I dug them out, brushed them off, and started writing again. Now, fifteen years later, I've edited and revised and combined and hacked and whacked and wrote by hand and typed late at nights to produce what I believe is a good book.

There. I said it. I wrote a good book.

But what I think really doesn't matter.

I feel like a frog. I just took a super-huge, scary leap into the future, and the outcome of this will only be determined by whether or not the powers that be decide if my manuscript is worthy of the kiss of success. It may take weeks, months, years... who knows? So, keep your fingers crossed for me and send me all your positive vibes and until I know anything, I'm not going to say another word about it. You'll all just have to stay tuned.

What's in a Name?

I just realized I have two new followers, and it's been too many days between posts, so if I want to keep my followers, they should have something to follow.

So here's a further sample of my literary brilliance....just a little something I like to call:

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am having an identity crisis.

Not for the first time.

And it's nobody's fault but my own.

(Actually, it's my sister's fault.)

The part of the problem that is my fault is facebook. Yes. I have become a Lemming once again. And who's fault is that? My 20th High School Reunion Coordinator, that's who. She started spreading the word to people via the internet (what other way is there?), and I had to go and get all curious, wondering if anybody would remember me from the old days, and wondering if everybody has aged as gracefully as I have (ha! that's a good one!).....so I took the plunge...and now I'm addicted.

But there's a problem. I have too many names.

Many of you know me as Suzy. This is only natural, since this is the name I've been called from the first few minutes after I was born and my mother actually called me Suzanne. (In fact, I can't even remember my mother ever calling me Suzanne, not even when she was mad at me.) There was another Suzy in my high school class, and even though we didn't look a thing alike, my high school buddies started calling me "Swazz" to tell us apart. (This came from our P.E. uniform t-shirts, which were labeled on the back with our first initial and last name. Mine spelled out "S.Wasden" which became Swasden, which became Swazz...)

Then I had to grow up and graduate.

Part of the beauty of leaving home and going to college is entering a whole new world where no body knows you, or your personality, or anything about you... which means you can 'be' anybody you want to be! I was on the road to my own personal self-discovery at BYU when my sister, Judy, who had just graduated from the Y, handed over her old job as secretary in the Elementary Education department to me. I had arrived in Provo a few weeks early before the term was supposed to start so I could get acclimated and find my bearings around campus and my new job. Judy took me around the offices, introduced me to all the professors, including my old youth conference pal Brad Wilcox (who REMEMBERED ME!! How does he do that?!), until, after a while, I suddenly noticed something was wrong.

MY NAME.

She was introducing me to everybody as "Sue"!

Okay, even though my sister had known me for eighteen years, she had been at school for four of those years. Still, you'd think she'd remember my name, for goodness' sake!?

I asked her, "What's with the 'Sue'?"

To which she replied, "Sue sounds more grown up. You're an adult now -- and Sue just sounds better!"

Huh.

I had to think about that one. But she was a college graduate, after all, and I was a lowly freshman. She must have known what she was talking about, right?

So I went with it. My new boss presented me with a nameplate that read "Sue Wasden" to put on my new desk, and that's the day it became official. A week or so later when I moved into my new dorm, I picked up where my sister left off and told my roommates my name was "Sue."

Now, as I look back on that life-altering experience, I can't help but laugh at my reasoning. "Sue" was probably just as, if not more, immature as "Suzy" would have been. I did everything those co-ed jokes said co-eds were supposed to do: I slept out for football tickets, I painted my face blue and white for games, I "Rise and Shout"ed, I enjoyed two a.m. ice cream parties, and I even entered a dorm pageant where we had to make a dress out of garbage bags. Guess what kind of dress I made?

Yeah. Psychotic, pathetic co-ed. That was me.

My friends from home came to see me in my dorm and were like, "What the heck? Who's Sue?" I still put up with a lot of flack from them, but lately, it has become a bit of a difficulty, trying to decide who I am, when I'm supposed to be Sue, when does Suzy kick in, and will I ever figure it out before I'm too old and too gray to enjoy being anything else but "Granny"?

The really funny thing is, when Roy and I started dating, he started calling me Suzy Q, and he thought it was so cute until one of my friends from home called me Suzy, and Roy got all defensive and thought, "Hey! Only I can call her that!" I explained to him what I just explained to you, and it really bummed him out that he wasn't as original as he thought. Poor Guy.

So, from now on, to avoid any confusion, just call me George. I think that would be simplest.

Huddle Up....

It's time to get serious, people....

Remember that promise I made to myself and to the rest of you earlier this year?
The one about not eating fast food for a whole year?

Well, Becky reminded me of this recently (and Beck, I'm sorry I didn't respond earlier, but my kids published the comment before I could read it! I just discovered it last night!). We both thought a support group for Anti-Fast-Food-Eating -For-2009 would be immensely helpful (and somewhat necessary for those weak characters who can't seem to stick to anything for longer than three days without the threat of a support group to answer to if we mess up) (and I'm talking about myself, of course, not Becky!).

I have to admit...... I slipped. But not on purpose.

One day last week, I was far away from home, and I was faint from hunger and about to pass out (no kidding, my husband had to drive me so I wouldn't crash the car) and my blood sugar was about to fall off the chart so he went to McD's and got me an apple pie and a chocolate shake ...

...and he made me eat it.

Imagine the looks on people's faces as they passed our car in the McD's parking lot:
"Somebody, call the police! That man looks dangerous! He's holding her down ...wait, he's got something in his hand.... it's a pie! She's turning her head.....he's prying her mouth open..... And look....is that a straw? What's he doing.....is he shoving the straw in her throat??!!..... Good heavens to Murgetroid, somebody DO SOMETHING!!!"

Seriously.

So, I've had a few days to recover from the shattering experience, and now I have some practical tips on how to accomplish this feat for the year 2009. In the event of a moment of temptation, turn to one of these tips!


Tip #1: CHEW GUM


Instead of spending money on fast food, take the amount you would have spent and go buy yourself one of every kind of flavor of sugar-free gum you can find. Place the gum in strategic places, such as: your purse, the glove compartment of your car, the ash tray, under the driver's seat, in the back seat (where you usually dig to find loose change), or wherever. This way, when you're out and about and you find yourself overcome with hunger pains and you're surrounded by fast food restaurants, grab a piece of gum instead. This way, you'll give your teeth something to do, and fool your stomach into thinking it's getting what it needs.

(And chewing gum can take at least five years off your age -- seriously, how many old people do you know that chew gum?)


Tip #2: BEFORE YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE, EAT AN APPLE.

Or an orange, or a banana. My personal fruit of choice is a good, crunchy Braeburn or Fuji apple. It's less messy, you can actually leave the house with it, and the core won't stink up your car like a banana peel will. An apple will fill you up and make you feel good about yourself that you are actually eating something healthy.


Tip #3: CALL A FRIEND
(What a cool couch!)

If I get a case of the munchies and I know that all there is in the house is a pan of brownies my daughter baked for FHE, I will pick up the phone and call somebody I can gab with. Again, this is a trick to keep your mouth busy doing something other than eating. Hopefully, if you're lucky, you can keep your hands busy making something healthy and nutritious to eat while you're talking on the phone! What a great way to multi-task!


Tip #4: LOSE YOUR APPETITE

This tip take some visualization practice.

If you are craving something like a hamburger, imagine this:

Not so appetizing in black and white, is it? The lettuce alone looks .... well..... disgusting. And the bun looks like a birdseed on a sponge or something used to exfoliate your skin. And the fries look like twigs that were plucked off a tree. And who would want to eat anything gray and black? Looks burned to me....

See how easy it is? Which brings us to another point: imagine the food you crave as something that is burnt. Not so tasty then....

(unless you happen to enjoy burnt marshmallows. In which case, I can't help you.)

Last but not least, the best way I know how to lose your appetite is to do something really physical like jogging. Or better yet, find a park with a merry go round and spin yourself sick.


Works every time.



So, put up your dukes, people! Join me and Becky in the battle against temptation and weight gain and irresponsible, spontaneous craving-satisfaction!

Hey, there's another tip: imagine the employee at the drive-thru window is Sugar Ray Leonard, and if you order anything but a salad, he's going to punch your lights out!

As a matter of Fact ...

There are just some things a mother doesn't blog about.

I have to plead the fifth and respect my daughter's privacy and just keep my mouth shut. Suffice it to say, my kids are growing up and there's not a darn thing I can do to prevent it.

Nor would I want to! I love the fact that my kids are growing up and changing and taking on more responsibilities and surpassing all the joys and traumas that come with age...

(...and puberty!) See, if I type in really small print, it doesn't count. I haven't given anything away, have I? I mean, it's not like I announced that "Aunt Flo" has come for a visit, or it's time to stock up on "party supplies". Right? Nobody reads the small print on anything anyway...

So, let's talk about something else....

We've had our share of "The Talk" at our house, in order that lovely, life-altering rites of passage won't come as a surprise to any of our daughters. It cracks me up, though, how many euphemisms people create for human anatomy. Or natural bodily functions and fluids. Or lovely, life-altering rites of passage.

The Quackenbush household does not operate in code. I much prefer to shoot straight from the hip, and tell it like it is. TACTFULLY, of course, giving all of the above its proper respect and practical usage. We tend to water it down for three-year-olds, and even nine-year-olds, but for the most part, we have a well-educated group of progeny that are prepared for what life has to throw at them.

People ask me all the time, 'How can you talk about that so easily? Isn't it embarrassing?' Not really, and it's all thanks to Roy. Having grown up with three brothers and no sisters, there were certain aspects of the facts of life that were casually omitted, but Roy grew up with an open and inquisitive mind. Believe it or not, he never figured out the Whole Story until he went on a road trip to attend the wedding of one of his college buddies shortly after he returned from his mission. At one point on the road trip, he ended up in a car full of girls, and inevitably, certain euphemisms began working their way into the flow of conversation (no pun intended), and Roy couldn't resist piping up and asking, "What are you talking about?"

I will be forever grateful to those girls, whoever they are. He got an earful on that trip, and because he was just "one of the guys", he took it in his stride and didn't get embarrassed at all. It was just a part of life to him, and it made perfect sense, so what was all the fuss about?

And this is how we've raised our daughters. Be honest and open (within reason and maturity level, of course), and your children will appreciate you for it.

You snooze, you lose...but I have good news!

I swear I just woke up yesterday and it was Monday.

Where has the week gone??!!

I feel like I have missed so much in the past few days, and I have a lot of blog hopping to catch up on (including the birthday of an old high school buddy of mine -- not that she's old, of course! She still looks like she's eighteen!)

So here's the Good News: Emma and Sara both got a part in Annie! The director called me today, and we're all pumped up for rehearsals .... which don't start until February 9th. (That's the bad news-- we have to stew in our excitement for a few more weeks!)

Better News: Emma got a certain letter in the mail today. (And in case you can't read the return address, it's from POLAND!!)


Even Better News: I have employment. Typically, work slows down for me in the month of January. Last year, the dry spell lasted all through March, which made life more than a little difficult for us. This year, however, is a different story. I have more work than I can almost handle. I have signed a contract with CMTO once again (click on the link if you'd like to see a clip of our last summer's production of Oklahoma!), and in March we'll be putting on our next show, Broadway II, The Journey Continues. They did a Broadway Revue last spring which was a huge success, so this is kind of like a sequel of sorts. It's going to be tremenjously exciting to work with these people again, not to mention the incredibly talented kids ... all 62 of them!...but I'm a little on the overwhelmed side because not only do I have to put all 62 kids into 17 different sets of costumes, I still have other jobs to do (hospital gowns, alterations, and some day my kids will actually get their own pants hemmed and holes mended!)

Continuing on the good news streak: I'm really not that overwhelmed, because I have a crew of 16 seamstresses (all volunteer mothers from the show) to help me with sewing. It's still a huge undertaking, but I'm getting paid more to organize everything and design costumes. My crew are eager to put in the volunteer hours!

The bestest news of all: is coming out in a press conference sometime in the next few weeks, and I'm not sure if I can say anything about it until then, but suffice it to say, it is wonderful, WONDERFUL news for the future of children's theater in this area. It may not be very exciting for the rest of the world, but since this is my job now and forever, I'M SO STOKED!!!!!! I hate to leave you all hanging like this (well, not really!), but since I do have some local readers who might spill the beans before the media gets their hands on it, I have to zip my lip. (It's not that I don't trust you people -- I can hardly trust myself, okay??!)

Red-Letter Day for the Quacks!

Well, I'm in danger of breaking my ten-minute time limit with this one, folks. I'm just so proud I could bust a blood vessel!

YESTERDAY.... was such an awesome day!!

First of all, a few months ago, Sara's English class was assigned to write a prequel to the story "The Most Dangerous Game." (Click on the title if you want to read the whole story: otherwise, click here for a synopsis.) They had to write about how the villian became the man he was. I have to say, Sara's story was pretty amazing. (I'm not biased or anything...) Anyway, a few weeks later, her drama teacher announced that the seniors were going to be directing a cabaret theater production of plays written by students. Guess how surprised we were to find out that Sara's story had been chosen to be turned into a play! She actually got to rewrite herself, script and stage direction as well, and it was submitted and reviewed and she was the only Freshman to have a play accepted for performance.

!!!!!!!!

And it only gets better.... since she is in fact a drama student, she also got to audition for the cabaret show. Yesterday, Sara found out that she got a part in another story (there's eight ten-minute short plays altogether), and she's playing opposite an experienced Senior. I'm just so stinkin' proud....

Whew. Well, that isn't even everything. Number two piece of excitement has to do with anothertheatrical production, also being produced by Crater High School (after the Cabaret, thank goodness). The drama department chairman told me last spring that they were going to be doing "Annie" for their spring production this year, so we've been looking forward to this for nearly nine months now. We downloaded the soundtrack from itunes, we rented the movie, we memorized all the songs, we memorized the dance numbers..... basically, we soaked it all in. Emma could talk about nothing else for months. She still feels gipped that she didn't get to be in Wizard of Oz last year, but she's well over the age limit this year and she's so excited to be a part of this show!

I'm getting ahead of myself....yesterday was the audition for "Annie". Last Saturday, the director brought in a professional theater performer to give the kids some audition tips to help them prepare. Well. She was a nice, talented lady, and gave some very good tips, but it simply overwhelmed everybody. Totally and completely. Even reduced some kids to tears. The basic problem, in my mind, was simply that no one was prepared for a professional to come in and tell everybody how to do everything professionally when we were expecting an amateur production. I won't even go into all the things she told the kids they had to do, but suffice it to say, a lot of kids dropped out at that moment which was really too bad.

Still, there were quite a few kids that stuck with it. We all raced home on Saturday to hunt down a monologue to memorize in less than 24 hours, and find sheet music for the song they suddenly had to memorize as well. The high school kids auditioning seemed to take it in their stride, but the younger kids ... uh.... didn't. This really was more than anyone was bargaining for. For two hours Sunday afternoon, Emma struggled and struggled with her monologue from Alice in Wonderland -- (she had her song down pat, thank goodness) -- but eventually Emma had a little melt-down Sunday afternoon, wondering if it really were meant to be for her to ever make a stage debut. We took a step back, did something else for a couple of hours, then went back to her monologue and tried again. Something happened -- she suddenly nailed it! Her confidence restored, she went to bed actually a little more excited than nervous.

Monday afternoon, we arrived at the high school and started filling in the necessary papers as hordes of people started showing up. The stress level of everyone in general was pretty high, but for some reason, Emma just relaxed. For the most part, she was rolling on the floor with her friend's baby brother, playing and cooing with him while everyone else was going over their monologues for the two hundredth time. By the time they eventually started taking kids in to audition (by THEMSELVES with no audience whatsoever -- including parents!), Emma ended up being the second one to go in. I waited outside in the lobby, chatting a hundred miles a minute with a few of my friends to hide my own nervousness. How's she doing? I thought. Is she going to hold it together? Will there be another melt down? Or will she nail it?

Ten minutes or so later, the door opened and out came Emma.....

WITH A HUGE GRIN ON HER FACE!!!

Yes, she nailed it. Not one glitch or forgotten line or flat note or anything. The director's comment said it all.

EXCELLENT!!

So now we can all breathe. Sara also auditioned, and for some reason, I'm not so nervous for her as I was for Emma. Emma got a callback this afternoon, and they're teaching the kids a few dance numbers which should be fun (and somewhat interesting, since Emma has no experience with this), but the directors are absolutely wonderful with the kids and I have no doubt that Emma will have the time of her life, whether she gets a speaking part or not. At least she's guaranteed a spot on stage!

Last but not least..... when we finally got home from auditions, there was a message waiting for me to call back a news reporter who's doing a series of articles on The Rapid Rise in Blogging Trends. She looked over my blog and wanted to interview me...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, well!! Thanks, Sarah for the tip.... I'm not even that much of an authority on the subject, but once we got to talking, I couldn't shut up!! She asked me all kinds of questions, mostly the 5 W's (who, what, where, when, why Blog?) and I may have given her too much information, but she seemed to like it all, and she even said something about sending around a photographer to take my picture for the paper. I'm not so excited about that part, but I did tell her about the MMB and she was enthralled. Over 600 bloggers all hooked up to ONE blog? Unbelieveable!

Anyway, I have no idea what's going to come of all this, but if I make the papers, you can bet I'm sending you all a copy!!

How My Grandmother Nearly Offended The Cooking Staff at Claremont High School

Margaret Lorraine Raymond, in her early 20's

As promised, here is a tale of one of the most talented, delightful women I have ever had the privilege to know in my life: My grandmother, Lorraine Raymond Wasden. This story occurred when my dad was still in high school, but it was a story that was enjoyed at every family reunion and Thanksgiving dinner that I could ever remember, and continues to bring a smile even now, eight years after she passed away.

But before I go on, you must understand a few things about my Grandma: she was a classy lady. She had studied piano at the Boston Conservatory of Music in the 1920's, and taught piano in her later years to hundreds of kids in the Rogue Valley. She was also the ward chorister in her ward for over thirty years, and she never missed an episode of Masterpiece Theater or Lawrence Welk. And yet, with all of this, her five-foot frame housed one of the feistiest spirits I've ever known. (That's where all of this starts to make sense...)




When my dad was in the 9th grade, Grandma worked in the Claremont High School cafeteria. Working with her in the cafeteria was a Hispanic woman, Mary Paulos, who spoke broken English, but enough for Grandma to understand her.

That year, Dad was taking first year Spanish. In the class, he had to read several stories in Spanish and, to the best of his ability, translate it into English. As he read the stories, certain words stood out - he liked the way they sounded - and tried to remember them by pronouncing them out loud, over and over, until he had them memorized. He liked the way they rolled off his tongue, and he would exaggerate the words with his best, newly acquired Spanish accent.

Brooks and Lorraine Wasden, around 1950

For some reason which he could not fathom, Dad selected three of these words, ran them together into a single phrase, and made them sound as though he was angry when he said them, or as if he had just accidentally hit the end of his thumb with a hammer. He must have gone around the house muttering this three-word phrase over and over until, unbeknownst to him, Grandma picked up the phrase. (To give her some credit, I think she was trying to glean from my Dad any morsel of Spanish so she might be able to converse with Mary on her own right. Little did she know...)

One day, while working in the school cafeteria, my grandmother was slightly splattered with some very hot cooking oil, a few drops landing on her arm. She instantly drew back, and uttered the "terrible three." Right. Out. Loud. For everyone to hear.

**!CASCARONES, HORMIGUIERAS, AZULEJOS! **

Mary heard her and Grandma could tell immediately that Mary was very confused, alarmed, and dismayed. She said, "Lorraine, you know what you say?"

Grandma instantly thought, Oh no, what awful thing has David taught me to say?

Instead, Mary turned to Grandma with a quizzical look on her face, "Lorraine, you say 'egg-shells,... fig trees,... and roof tiles'," wondering what would cause such a selection of words to be expelled from my grandmother's mouth at a time like that.


Later that evening, Grandma and Dad both had a good laugh over it. I guess she learned from that experience not to repeat anything in Spanish unless she knew what it was, and Dad learned not to practice nonsensical Spanish word combinations, no matter how good they sounded.... at least out loud!

Brooks and Lorraine at their 60th Wedding Anniversary

**One of the stories Dad had to read was about children celebrating a birthday with home-made party favors made of hollowed-out eggshells, gaily painted and carefully filled with confetti which would be smashed on another person's head. This would festoon the person hit with hundreds of tiny paper particles all over his/her head, hair and everywhere in the vicinity. These are called "CASCARONES". (Accent normal, on the next-to-last syllable.) Another story was about a mysterious mythical place that was made all the spookier by enchanted fig trees, or "HORMIGUIERAS". The final story was sited near the seashore, with white stucco houses covered with blue roof-tiles on a hillside overlooking a beautiful blue ocean view. The roof tiles were called "AZULEJOS".**

And as long as we're at it.....

I do so solemnly swear...

...not to read the last page first of any books I read this year.

I know. It's terrible. It's an awful habit -but I can't help it! I don't even know how it got started... I just picked up a book at the library one day, I can't even remember which one, but it grabbed me from the get-go and after two or three chapters, I HAD TO READ THE ENDING. I had to know - I just couldn't wait - which guy does the heroine end up with? Does the evil nemesis get mortally punished or destroyed? Does true love really conquer all, or will I have to content myself with a cardboard ending?

Sorry... that requires a little explanation. In our house, anything that is not 'real', we call 'cardboard'. Such as cheesecake from a box mix instead of from scratch. That would be a 'cardboard' cheesecake. Or some generic cereal tastes like cardboard. (I think that's how we coined the phrase in the first place.) And some books are just ...well...ready for recycling even before you even open the cover.

But NOT my new friend Heidi's book-- of COURSE --- THAT book was AWESOME!! I love, love, loved it, from beginning to end. Or (gulp) from end to beginning. Yes, I read the last page first of that one, too -- but that doesn't count because I started reading it Christmas day, and I finished it two days later. Now, when I read it through the second time (because I always read books too fast when I really enjoy them, and inevitably miss some stuff), I read it from cover to cover, without skipping to the end. Of course, it didn't matter then, because I already knew what the ending was, but ... well...

Oh, stop already, Sue. You've dug your hole deep enough.

Okay. Sorry.

Anyway, I'm on track for the 2009 Reading challenge. Gals, this is going to be a lot of fun! (Click on Mr. Linky there if you want to jump on the bandwagon, and then read through the posts to get the gist of what it's all about.) Basically, there are six categories in which you have to find a book with something in the title that corresponds with the category. For example, my first read falls in the "Building" category -- I found a delightfully light read called "Norah's Ark", which is about a single, Christian woman named Norah who owns a Pet shop and is owned by a mutt named Bentley, a darling, neurotic, paranoid dog she rescued from an abusive past. Her mantra is "Love me, love my dog," and her life mission (other than loving animals) is to find a Mr. Right that will love her dog as much as he will love her. Right now, I'm a third of the way through and I've literally had to sit on my hands a few times to resist flipping to that last page (this is really a sickness!!) because she suddenly finds herself being pursued by THREE different guys.... and the suspense is killing me. Which guy will she fall for?!! And who's been stealing money from everybody on Pond Street?

Sorry -- that wasn't a spoiler, just a teaser. There is a bit of a mystery involved in the lives of all these shop owners in this small town, and that's got me a little bit hooked as well. It's a well-written book, with strong Christian values threaded throughout, and I can't wait to see how it all turns out!

Do-Overs! Do-overs!

I'm going to have to take a Mulligan on this one:

"And now, for this year, the banned item of choice is: SODA.

Pop, carbonated 'soft' drinks, fizzy nose-tickling beverages of every kind. Nix. Nada. No more, quoth the raven. Give me a good ol', super tall glass of water with a chunk of lemon. No chaser."

Huh. Well. Evidently, my self discipline has expired. I took Sophie out for lunch today and we stopped by our favorite fast food joint of choice, and without even thinking about it, I ordered a Large Sprite with my burger. I took about three big gulps .... looked at the cup.... and wanted to *curse in some foreign language* so Sophie wouldn't know what I was saying.

Once again, my mind has no control over my appetite.

See...I told me so! It was doomed to failure before I even started! Every year I've tried making New Year's Resolutions with the idea that I would start January 1st, they ALWAYS fall through. Every time. Without exception. I firmly believe that the only reason I made it a year without chocolate (and NO Mulligans AT ALL, even though both my friends each took one, which legally should mean I won and should therefore get the pot of money instead of splitting it three ways which is what we've decided to do)....where was I? Oh, yes, the only reason I made it last year was because I started my resolution on December 26th instead of waiting for the 1st. I mean, come on, why wait? If I want to make a change, I should go ahead and do it already! So I went ahead and did, and succeeded, then completely blew it for this year and it's only one measly week into the year.

But the year is not over yet! So, in order to redeem myself, I'm raising my own stakes: Now, instead of banning just Soda, I am now (gulp, this is really going to be hard) banning ALL FAST FOOD for One Solid Year.


Did I really just say that, or has my evil twin possessed my body and taken over?


Yes, Sue, you really did just say that and what's more, you have 20 followers and a couple dozen stalkers that witnessed it.... as long as you publish this post, which I know you will because you live for those little comments that pop up in your email on a daily basis.

So, everyone synchronize your calendars: on January 8th, 2010, I'll be meeting you all at Sonic for lunch!!!

**Okay, I have a really funny story about this particular topic and my Grandmother, believe it or not, but you'll have to wait because...oops....there goes my timer once again and I can't take any more Mulligans, so stay tuned for a Hysterical Post on How My Grandmother Learned to Swear in Spanish!!

Tuesday's Ten Minute Tirade

Okay... I'm setting the timer....ready....GO!

Whoever coined the term "Reality Shows" missed the mark by a mile and a half. "The Bachelor"? "Mamma's Boys"?? And that other show about judging people on their inner beauty..... Are you kidding me? How are these shows supposed to represent any measure of reality? They should have been called "Fantasy Shows". Or, better yet, "Ridiculously Desperate and Bored Out Of Our Minds So We Have Nothing Better To Do Shows".

Every night after I put my kids to bed, I hop out to my shop to burn a little midnight oil, and I usually plug in a DVD to keep me company. Alas, last night I realized I had watched all my Christmas Presents (thank you Kaylynn! And Robyn, and Anne....) enough times that I was ready for something different. I actually turned on the t.v. for the first time in a while....

....and was completely sucked in.

For the first hour, I cut out pillows and and piping to the tune of 26 giggling, minimally-clad, toothy-grinned, bare-clawed 'women' all vying for the hand of Jason, the rejected bachelor-dad from last season's show, trying to redeem himself on his hunt for a mother for his son. I have no explanation for this. Why didn't I turn it off? I could have watched My Fair Lady again.... or the 16 hours of special features, which would have been much more positively entertaining and educational and enjoyable. But somehow, that remote just lay there on the table.....

...... for a whole 'nother hour!!! (And no, Lisa, I don't think " 'nother" is considered a viable word. Point proven.) Pardon me, but those Mamma's Boys need to cut the cord. Embilical, that is. That one mom is as psychotic as Jerry Springer, and the other two just seem way too nice to be sucked into agreeing to expose their sons and themselves to this kind of humiliation. And what kind of girl....

What the heck??!!!!! Why do I care??!!! Seriously, I had nightmares about this show all night!! And it was the first night I was able to sleep without the aid of any sort of medication! (Santa brought me a sinus infection for Christmas, but I'm okay now.)

Sheeesh. I'm just as guilty as the rest of the world, I guess. But it has been bothering me all morning, and my ten minutes are up (New Year's Resolution #417: Put a Time Limit On My Blogging), so I'll have to leave you all with that. Rest assured, I'm developing a theory about all of this, but I would love your input!

All. Growed. Up.

It's official.
Now that I no longer have a child in nursery, or the possibility of ever having a child in nursery ever again (knock on wood), I am a middle aged parent.

Having two teenagers didn't do it for me.

This does.

Choco-Shock: Breakfast of Champions

Is it possible to get too much chocolate? I have 365 days to make up for, right?

My good friend supplied me with a goodie bag for New Year's Eve, which I celebrated in the comfort of my very own plush, reclining couch, itching for that ball to drop.

Here's a play by play of the last ten seconds of 2008:

And here's the first second of 2009:

Heaven, people. Simply Heaven.

My two friends have sworn off chocolate for life, so my celebration was a little anti-climactic and somewhat lonely, not having my two buddies by my side to revel in the bliss of renewing my addiction, but I think that's why they're not going back.

I have to admit, I still flinch at the sight of a chocolate chip cookie, and it's a small relief to tell myself that I don't have to not eat it anymore. But trust me, I'm not going crazy, and I'm not going to binge, and I'm certainly not going to put on twenty pounds. (If I can help it.) It was a wonderful year, being able to conquer my 'addiction', which I use in loosely defining terms because I don't think I was really addicted. I mean, I didn't have secret chocolate stashed in my medicine cabinet or in my sock drawer or anything. And I could go a day or two without it, usually.

Am I a coward for going back to it? Not at all. I'm a realist. I have proved to the world that yes, I do have self-control, and I have proven to myself that I could exist without it. So, mission accomplished.

And now, for this year, the banned item of choice is: SODA.

Pop, carbonated 'soft' drinks, fizzy nose-tickling beverages of every kind. Nix. Nada. No more, quoth the raven. Give me a good ol', super tall glass of water with a chunk of lemon. No chaser.



And on the off occasions that I don't indulge in a plate full of chocolate, I often pop over to Pancake's blog for breakfast instead! And hopefully winning a black and white blankie can help her get out of her blogstipation! Congrats, Pancake!