Thoughts Before Sleep

Do you ever have those nights
when you just can't sleep?
That no matter what you do,
you can't rest,
close your eyes,
or seem to get comfortable?

That is the time
I try to take my mind off
stressful things
and do some creative thinking.

I was lying in bed last night
wondering what I would do
if I won the lottery.

I know, fat chance.

But at least if it happened
I wouldn't be sitting around
pondering the options
and wasting valuable time
as a rich woman.

So, I got to thinking that what
this country needs desperately is...
pajamas.

No-I haven't been drinking!
Hear me out, please.

Today's basic options in the pajama department:

1. Funky flannel with teddy bears, crescent moons,
cartoon characters and bleeding skulls.

2. Thin, lacy, barely-there silk and satin 2-piece
Fredrick's of Hollywood, made for skinny people stuff

3. Striped, elastic waisted, too-short pants
with a spaghetti strap tank top that covers nothing

4. Thick, velour sweats with uncomfortable attached hoods,
pockets and zippers

I sadly have resorted to my husbands soft tee shirts,
workout pants and giant Big Foot slippers.
I usually top it off with a sweater on these cold mornings.

Give me a shopping cart
and I'd be in business.

I call my current pajamas
the Bag Lady look.

But that's not the look
I'm hoping to convey...

I want super soft, loose fitting
pajama bottoms that at least hit my ankle-
won't shrink, ball up, pill
or twist.
I want a pattern of soothing colors
and mature prints.
(NO Winnie the Poohs,
Kitty Cats drinking coffee,
or smiling polar bears snow skiing.)
Please.

I want a top with sleeves-
(short or long depending on the season)-
One that supports,
completely covers-
but also compliments the bosom.

I want slippers as comfortable
as flip flops,
but as warm as fuzzy socks.

I want to look like
I am ready to slip into
a beautiful dream world
of total comfort and relaxation.

(And I know what
some of you are you are thinking...
If you are going for the sexy look,
buy red or black,
nix the bottoms for five minutes-
and get over it!)

At the present time,
I look like I should be
crawling into a cardboard box
with my paper sack bottle
and a mangy dog.

So, folks...
here's the business plan:

All the above improvements
and designs-
all presented in a scented slip knot bag
(for easy storage and night time freshness)
and called
The Bedtime Bag.

Whenever I would come up with
a new design,
I would have a giant pajama party
and invite women of every single size
so that other ladies can get an idea
of what they might look like
in my creations.

We would have strawberries
and popcorn and beer and wine
and all the ladies would
look stunning
and be laughing
and dancing and singing...

...until some party crashers
broke in wearing Eeyore and
ACDC and Twilight pajamas
with trashy tank tops
and thong- y bottoms
and crunchy lace
that tears holes in their necks
whenever they roll over at night...

and we'd fill our Bedtime Bags
with walnuts or wine bottles
to drive them away...
or have a giant pillow fight
and force those traitors out....

Oh... I finally fell asleep didn't I?

Sorry.

When You O.D on F.B

Up until a few weeks ago,
my life was going great.
I was content to stay home all day
and write, clean house,
watch TV and pursue some hobbies.
I felt self-confident, energetic
and hopeful of the future.

But then, things changed.
I suddenly sped headfirst into
a downward spiral.

And it all started
when I joined Facebook....

It was all so innocent...so exciting.
An online adventure of friends
and family and sharing.
What could go wrong?

First of all,
do you realize how stressful it is
waiting for friends to accept you?
I was logging in a hundred times a day
checking to see if I had any friends at all.

And then, when I had enough friends
to assure myself I wasn't a total outcast,
then I had to start weeding out
the weirdos who friend-requested me.

Oh- it's so much easier in the grocery store!
If you don't want to friend somebody-
you just hide in the feminine hygiene aisle
or scurry into the ladies room till they pass!

I was sweating bullets,
drawing straws,
making pros and cons lists,
doing criminal background checks,
-even resorting to eenie, meenie,
mynie and mo!

Then to make matters worse,
my crops started dying,
my pets all starved,
my diner went belly-up
and the mafia was after me.

My high school friends
were all smarter, richer
and younger than me.

My family was having fun
without me.

And my own kids de-friended me
after the first week.

I became a fan of
obscure people,
and unknown places...
and postings of tasteless pictures
and photographs
and tacky quotations.

I was left clueless
and concerned
and incoherent.

I rescued lost kittens,
raised barns,
accepted gifts of
flowers
and gasoline
and I was Bejeweled
and bewildered.

I was lost in YouTube videos,
inside jokes,
snoopy surveys-
and more baby pictures
than a planet of OctoMoms.

I spent hours on the computer
answering questions
and commenting
and downloading
and becoming
a giant Facebook monster!!!

I lost sleep,
old friends,
learned to play the keyboard
with my nose,
mix a drink with my eyes closed
and practiced how to cook with wine.

I learned who's happy,
who's not,
who's home-who's away,
who's fit- who's fat,
who's funny- who's stuffy,
who's boring- who's interesting,
who's liberal-who's conservative...

who liked- who unliked-
who's who
and what's what-
and more than I will ever
need to know in ten lifetimes!

I became neurotic,
paranoid,
sleep-deprived
and caffeine logged.
I became heart-broken,
nostalgic,
insulted
and elated.

I became a ball of frenzy.
A genuine Facebook fanatic.
A needy, groping individual
who yearned for reassurance
and positive comments.

It's sad.
I'm addicted now
and no one can help me.
Intervention is unrealistic
and committing myself
would only be a temporary fix.

I just sit back sometimes
and close my eyes
and remember how my life used to be.

Unexciting,
private,
quiet
and empty.

Ahhhh...those were the days, my friend.

St. Pat's or Pancakes?

I finally put away all the
pink and red and rosy
valentine stuff yesterday
and started looking for
the green St. Patty's decor.

Somewhere in my coat closet
there is a glittery shamrock
that has graced my front door
for the past few years.
Kinda tacky,
but, hey-
what other choices to you have
besides a chubby leprechaun?

I like to change my front door decor
as often as I can.
I think it gets boring looking
at the same thing day after day.
That ten year old
Christmas wreath
sure got ugly fast.
I traded it out for a string of bells
and later, a Santa face-
before it drove me crazy.

I can't seem to find
my St. Patrick's Day stuff.
So, with it being
Pancake Day,
I wonder if it's proper etiquette
to hang Mrs. Butterworth
or Aunt Jemima
from my door hook.

Or maybe I could fashion
a pancake wreath
with thick chunks of fake butter,
topped off with
powdered sugar glaze
and a maple sausage bow.

Maybe I could place a giant
blueberry pancake on the door
with a welcome sign drawn
in whipped cream.

And then maybe
I could just search
a little longer for my
glittery shamrock,
go have a Denny's Grand Slam,
and get all this pancake nonsense
out of my system.

Can you tell I'm hungry?

HELLO

I really do miss all of you
and I wanted to say hello
and keep in touch
so I won't lose you all.

I've been using my time off
to get some things done
around the house
and to just chill out a bit.
Everybody needs that
once in awhile.

Thought I might share a recent project....

A year or so ago,
I started having some problems
with my Kenmore refrigerator.
I bought it brand new in "05.
It cooled fine.
But the area around the
ice maker began to rust.
Crack, even.
It looked disgusting.

Seven phone calls and two emails later
and SEARS would not fix the situation-
(unless I paid them a service call
and they proclaimed it a safety issue.)

Well, I knew it wasn't a safety issue-
just a freakin' eye sore!
So I remedied the problem myself.

BEFORE

AFTER:
White contact paper
with black marker...







It will do until I can afford a new fridge
in about ten years!
My advice?
don't buy an appliance at Sears.

To top it off,
I have a HELLO sign by
my front door
that I fashioned from
dollar store frames and
computer printed letters.

Yesterday, the "O' fell off.




So, this is how company is
greeted now:


Need I say more???

The People of WalMart

I'm sure by now you've all
received an email about-
or checked out for yourself
the "People of WalMart."

If not, let me entertain you.
http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/

Sure-
we've all laughed, snickered,
vomited and rolled our eyes
and shouted, "OMG !!!"
at the myriad of weirdos
that visit our local Wally World.

I had a good time
sifting through the pages of
floozies,
exhibitionists,
skanks
and rednecks.
I've stared in amazement at
bad fashion,
white trash
and the grossly absurd.

But, at some moment-
amid all those unacceptable people,
I saw me.

Or what I could be.

Somehow I was saved.

What's the secret?
What makes some people
avoid the frosted jeans,
banana clips and '80's hairstyles-
and makes others
don frostier jeans,
bigger bananas
and rattier hair?

What separates a man who
wears leopard wife-beater shirts,
high-top, pump-up tennis shoes,
short-shorts and headbands,-
from the men who have great style?

Why weren't those people taught
not to show their butts, boobs, boogers-
and yesterdays burger on their shirt?
What planet were they living on
when pajamas, bikinis, and trash bags
became acceptable attire for a trip to the grocery?

Do they not own mirrors?
Soap?
Intervening friends?
Do they not understand
the difference between the good-
and the bad and ugly?

Maybe I'm being too hard on them.

There have been times
I've worn my fuzzy striped socks
with my generic Ugg boots to WalMart.
Times I've rolled my unwashed hair
into a silly hat,
hid my bra-less body
under baggy sweatshirts,
and settled for yesterdays jeans
straight off the bedroom floor.

I've gone to WalMart
like a ghost-
with no makeup
or mascara or blush.
With an unacceptable jacket,
worn out shoes,
and morning breath.
I've flashed ugly purses,
too-tight pants,
too-baggy tops-
and a cough that would rock a concert.

There are all kinds of people
in this big old world.

Some go about their way quietly.

Others entertain us with their
rude,
bright,
brassy and unbelievable behavior.

Those kinds of people
come from far away planets
to our world.

Wally World.

Look funny. Live bolder.

Time Out

I've done some soul searching lately.
Looked a bit closer at myself.
Held a mirror up to my day
and I see that it's not quite
up to par.

I'm wasting time.
Running in place.
Continuing on a zigzaggy path
that goes nowhere.

I've decided to take a few days off.
I've got to reset my focus-
do something big...
feel good about myself again...

Maybe it's the winter blues....
the Christmas cookies that
settled in my waistline...
the fact that I struggle everyday
to type something here...
Maybe it's just a pity party-
a side effect of no sunshine-
a temporary insanity
that will fade by tomorrow.

You are the only thing that keeps me writing.
Hopefully you will check back
in a week or two
and see what's happening.

Gonna fill up my coffee,
throw a load of clothes in the washer,
read for awhile,
and then contemplate my goals.

I'll be thinking about you all.
Thanks for stopping by today.

Morning

It was still dark when
I woke up this morning.

I turned on the porch light
and saw glitters of soft snowflakes
twirling about in the blackness.

The world was quiet.
Crisp.
Cushioned in white blanket
of silence.

I love the untouched snow.
The smooth glaze of an untrod yard,
the neatness of a snowy path- not taken,
the undisturbed porch steps -
with nothing but tiny bird toes
making a pattern in the powder.

There is no sound but the wind.
A hazy whisper in the pine trees-
a whistle in the fence row-
it's delicate fingers across the wind chimes.

Soon the snow plow will barrel down the road,
pushing piles of dirty snow and gravel
to rest in hills until it melts.
Cars soon pass.
The trash man's dump truck
heaves like a giant dinosaur-
and the silence is broken.

Footprints muddle the yard-
shovels ruin the pathway-
kids throwing snowballs
twist the white wonder
into imperfect patterns of boot prints.

Tiny birds flee.
Laughter swallows the wind.
Life winds up... and pitches.

I close the curtains.
Curl up with my coffee and a blanket.
Read for awhile by the soft lamplight.

And my day begins.

Twenty-Two Things I've Learned The Hard Way

1. Wearing a sports bra does not make you a good athlete.

2. 100% Whole wheat is just another word for sawdust.

3. Plan a giant outdoor party if you want it to rain.

4. You can't substitute thinned cookie dough for pancake mix.

5. You will always get blamed for the missing hammer.

6. Coffee warmed over three times tastes like boiled dirt.

7. Your husband will always find the TV remote before you do.

8. Drinking an entire bottle of wine has it's drawbacks.

9. A fifty year old body is not meant to do cartwheels.

10. It will take ten men to put up a two man tent.

11. Two dollar shampoo does the same job as five dollar shampoo.

12. And even dollar bar soap will get you buy in a pinch.

13. Being poor and being rich are both temporary.

14. But rich is funner.

15. Even ugly babies are beautiful to their own mothers.

16. When men get old, their butts disappear.

17. A great pair of perfect-fitting jeans will cost you big time.

18. The circus is just a giant city full of animal pee and funnel cakes.

19. Leftover oatmeal makes great paving stones.

20. Men that reek of strong cologne are probably trying to disguise the fact that they smell like
old mustard, antique mothballs, or their mother's sauerkraut.

21. The day you get snowed in without candy is the day you'll crave chocolate.

22. Blog subjects are hard to come up with every morning.

My Life According to...

Do you ever have those kinds of days
when you feel completely LOST?
When you feel like the
BIGGEST LOSER whenever
you glance in the mirror-
because you realize
that you're no longer
YOUNG AND RESTLESS?

I say-
"It's nothing that a good
NIP AND TUCK wouldn't take care of",
but, I have no LEVERAGE
in my HOUSE.
My husband is a regular FAMILY GUY
and thinks we should face our
problems with GLEE
and that I should PSYCH myself up
in order to have HAPPY DAYS.

I ask him not to LIE TO ME-
That some days I know
I'm an UGLY BETTY
trying my best to be a GOLDEN GIRL-
succeeding only in becoming
a DESPERATE HOUSEWIFE
that is hanging on the FRINGE
of sanity.

We had a HART TO HART and
he says that he wouldn't want
to see my BONES,
but he might be more
CHARMED by me
if I lost 24 pounds or so.

I've considered calling DOCTOR WHO,
but it wouldn't stay
ALL IN THE FAMILY-
The news of plastic surgery
would make REAL PEOPLE
think I was a MILLIONAIRE.
Besides, he doesn't make
HOUSE CALLS-
and a scalpel on my neck
is a little TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT.

I guess I'll just have to face
THE FACTS OF LIFE
and have GOOD TIMES
despite the fact that I am not
WONDER WOMAN!
I must take ONE DAY AT A TIME
and try to be a SURVIVOR.

Besides, I don't want to rock this
little LOVE BOAT that
THE TWO OF US have going on.
It may not be a FANTASY ISLAND
around here twenty-four-seven,
but I say CHEERS
to THE WONDER YEARS
we've shared along this
HIGHWAY TO HEAVEN.

And- honestly-
he never lets me forget
WHO'S THE BOSS.

We take pride in our FAMILY TIES-
even though we suffer a few
GROWING PAINS now and then.
We might be FAIRLY ODD PARENTS,
but we are a PROUD FAMILY.


Sometimes IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT,
I suddenly realize we have an
EMPTY NEST
and it's kinda SUPERNATURAL.
It's often nice not to have
an ENTOURAGE of kids
or a FULL HOUSE.
Our grown-up LITTLE RASCALS
took their PRISON BREAK
a few years back -
but once in awhile they might take
60 MINUTES and call us.

I guess WHAT'S HAPPENING
is just be the NORM for women my age.
MY SO CALLED LIFE
is truly TOUCHED BY AN ANGEL
and I am thankful for my family
and FRIENDS.

So, I guess there won't be
any GUNSMOKE today.
I'm going to try my best to
be ABSOLUTELY FABULOUS
even if there are DARK SHADOWS
under my eyes
and I have to M*A*S*H
this INCREDIBLE HULK
of fat into my jeans.

This may not be THE VIEW
you have of life,
but this is the REAL WORLD.

THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES
are comfortably sweet
and FAMILY MATTERS.
We have THE SIMPLE LIFE
but it's an AMAZING RACE
and we wouldn't think of
TRADING SPACES
with anyone.

It's just another day in
the TV GUIDE life
of this FRASIER family.

You Might Think It's Funny, But It's Snot

I've been nursing a cold the
past few days and this morning
it seems to have worsened.

There is nothing more discouraging
than climbing out of bed-
only to look toward the day ahead
to a time when you can
crawl back in.

One foot hit the floor
and I was wondering
what time I could fit
a good sized nap into my day.

I spent all night coughing.
You know-
that weird tickle-
like feathers or bugs
skating in your throat.

And then came the
sinus headache-
like a giant vise
pressing your cranium
till it feels it could burst.

And, where on earth
does all that snot come from?!

Seriously-
I was half expecting
my cheeks to cave in
or my belly to disappear.
Where does all that stuff hide?
One-hundred fifty-two tissues later,
and it's still flowing like a green oil well.

I keep imagining some little elf guys
sitting up my nose-
happily making the slimy stuff-
just to irritate me.

(And then I think to myself...
If I've got to have little guys
up my nose-
why can't they be making cookies?)

Of course, it's not a real cold
until you have the chills.
My sweater is on.
Off.
On.
Off.
On again.
Off again.

I'm hungry, but I'm not.
I want to eat -
but nothing sounds good.

Or tastes good.

But ...then I think that if I
could possibly get dressed
and make it to the car,
across town,
and into the grocery store-
I could infect everyone there
while selecting a
giant pasta salad
with feta and olives.

But, on second thought,
pasta salad might be too slimy-
too familiar of a texture-
and not exactly the flavor
I want to keep coughing up all day.

So nix that idea.

In my experience,
the only thing you can really
do for a cold,
is wear socks,
watch TV,
sip juice,
nap frequently
and feel sorry for yourself.

Wait just a minute....
Isn't that just like
my everyday routine?

Crap.

Your Day. Your Way.

I read somewhere that this month
is Spunky Old Broads Month.
And even though I didn't do the
research behind the whole event,
I decided that I would
celebrate it anyway.

I suppose there is a mighty fine line
between being A Spunky Old Broad
and An Eccentric Old Lady,
A Pathetic Aging Loser,
and A Wrinkled Old Witch.

I must admit, I've been- (or felt)-
like all the above sometime in my life.

Of course, ideally I would
like to see myself as
A Sexy Young Babe,
A Modern-day Chick,
A Wise Wonderful Woman
or A Flawlessly Fine Female.

But Hell hasn't frozen over yet.

So-
I'm stuck with what Time has given me...

Just what is A Spunky Old Broad?

A Spunky Old Broad....

...is unafraid or unashamed to push her cart
through the 12 item or less aisle at WalMart,
even if she has 62 items

...buys shoes, clothes and underwear
for comfort only- and not for looks

...has often contemplated the
wonderful world of Velcro

...has at least once used a buzz saw
to get the lid off a prescription bottle

...knows that wrinkle creams, anti-aging lotions
and masks are a bunch of bologna

...still thinks Robert Redford is hot

...still thinks Martha Stewart is an alien

...still dreams of someday owning a Jitterbug

...has memories from the 40's or 50's (or earlier)

...craves turnips, sprouts and Spam

...still writes checks for everything

...adds a little Bailey's to her morning coffee

...thinks a long trip is driving for two hours

...has given up trying to understand Rap

...doesn't care if her slip shows,
her teeth slip or her hair is blue

...can cat fight as well as a twenty year old

...thinks the greatness of cleavage, Botox, designer bags and
sushi are all blown out of proportion

...rakes her leaves onto the neighbors yard

...re-uses coffee grounds at least twice

...never passes up a dime or nickle or even a penny
lying on the sidewalk

...thinks teens play their music too loud, but
cranks up the surround sound full blast
to watch McDreamy.

Well...
Here's to all you Spunky Old Broads!
And to those of you who aspire to be one!

Let's pull up those granny pants
and keep on keeping on!
This month is ours!
Let's Rock it!!!!

Punxsutawney Phil's Farewell

Dear Citizens and Honorable Judges,

It is with reluctance that I officially announce my resignation as of today. I will agree to come out of my burrow for the last time this morning, so that you may retain your dignity in front of the 40,000 spectators that have crowded upon the village of Gobbler's Knob. But, in all honesty, you are all a big bunch of phonies who have exploited me for the last time.

I've been your faithful employee and weather prophet since the 1800's. In case you haven't realized it- I am old. Your famous concoction of Groundhog Punch has not been medically proven to extend my life whatsoever- and furthermore, it tastes like fermented earthworms. The FDA has never formally approved the drink,so I could realistically be risking future health problems. Therefore, I no longer wish to be your giant guinea pig.

How can you expect me to survive on that measly fare when the entire town is feasting upon gourmet delicacies and specialty ales? I am stuffed into that fake log for months at a time without so much as a conjugal visit. And the steroids you have administered to keep me fat have reeked havoc upon my entire nervous system. Do you know the suffering you gentlemen have placed upon me for the past two hundred years or more? Well, my dear sirs, you have discriminated against me for the last time.

And while we are speaking honestly and forthright, I must also address the issue of my name. Legally, I have been given the name of Punxsutawney Phil, Seer of Seers, Sage of Sages, Prognosticator of Prognosticators and Weather Prophet Extraordinaire. Sounds extremely
important and debonair, but how sophisticated can one be who lies around in soiled wood chips and a urine scented log? My birth name was Tater Lee Goobinstein and I wish to retain this on any further correspondence or press releases. I am sure you understand.

You do not begin know the extreme anguish I have beheld for so long, being the sole source of the spring prediction. Have you ever seen the faces of those freezing children or the disgust of those farmers, as another six weeks of winter is announced? I think not. As long as you bring in record numbers of tourists, then you could care less about the depression and despair we so flippantly induce upon the nation.

Lastly, I would like the world to know that I am not a hog. To be tossed among the swine has been a great misery to me and deflated my self-esteem beyond repair. Furthermore, and contrary to many an idiot's beliefs- I am neither a possum, ferret, large guinea pig or badger. Proudly, I am a Marmota Monax, and I wish to announce this soon in a public arena- just to set the record straight.

As you may have gathered, I will not be submitting the customary two weeks notice. I will be leaving as soon as the flashbulbs die down and the news crews leave for the day. I assume my 401K and severance pay is in order, as I will be obtaining a residence in a warmer climate, where I have already given earnest money for a fine new borrow that exceeds my needs.

Farewell to all. Perhaps you must now rely on meteorologists in the future, although we all know that their predictions are very spotty and dead wrong most of the time.

This old hog has been used for the last time.

Sincerely,
Your faithful servant and friend,
Tater Lee Goobinstein
(AKA Punxsutawney Phil)

The Time is NOW

Okay- It's February 1st and I've wasted a whole month.
I've done nothing about my weight.
I'm sick of it!
So I'm ready to start over and get inspired!
Won't you join me?

The following video is a bit long,
but if you have a few minutes,
crank up the volume and watch
as all these people do
what CAN be done!

NEXT!!!


   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRTTiqhkJPc