Amy the Mom

Why?

I have no idea why, after selling me three warm donuts, the clerk at Krispy Kreme felt compelled to include this with my order of carbohydrates.

Perhaps an even better question would be why I then felt compelled to model the thing.

Notes from Las Vegas

Some observations about my Las Vegas trip:

• Thirty-five degrees in Las Vegas feels like fifty degrees in Minnesota.
• People will still swim laps in the pool if it's thirty-five degrees.  I can only hope the pool was as warm as bath water.
• Las Vegas looks much better at night than it does during the day.  What appears glitzy after dark, looks downright tawdry when the sun is out.
• I keep staring at the surrounding mountains, and wish I'd brought my hiking boots. 
• Nothing here is cheap. 
• I'm still on Minnesota time.  I wake up every morning at 6 AM, just as I do every work day.  The problem is, I'm not going to work and it's not 6 AM, it's 4 AM.  I thought the Prosecco might lead to longer slumbering, but alas, no.
• Thanks to all the walking, I'm pretty sure weight loss will be a side benefit to this trip.  So will Plantar Fasciitis.
• Everything here boasts of being "The Best," or "Rated #1" or "The Top...".  Good to know that surrounded by superiority. 
• Because I'm on vacation, three potential recruits will want to join the company while I'm gone.
• Even though I was cherishing a much needed break from the care and feeding of four kids and two dogs, I really miss those buggers.

   

 

Funny Friday

Maybe I'll make a habit of posting humorous bits on Fridays.  These both come from my friend Cindi, who actually forwards very funny emails, instead of the usual "You are the wind beneath my wings" crap that I get from a lot of girlfriends.  No offense girls, but they're always part of chainmail.  Please!  I don't need any more guilt in my life.

First, a photo of candidates for the Darwin Awards. 

Note the power strip floating on the flip flops.

And next a video.  This one hits a little close to home, because I could totally see myself doing something like this.

My Life in Hair

See what you started, Mrs. G?  I just had to participate in this theme, given my lifelong obsession with my own hair.  This could also be subtitled, "A Series of Unfortunate Headgear."

Case in point.  Nice bonnet.

Hat free here, but wait...

Yeahhhhh.

My theory on the Pixie cut shown here is that my mom now had two little girls under the age of three and she simply couldn't be bothered with fussing over our hairstyles.  To this day, I won't let a razor anywhere near my hair.

This is where I was growing out my Dorothy Hamill cut. 

And this is where my mom decided to completely do away with any resemblance to Dorothy. 

Right around ten or eleven, I had a habit of waking up between midnight and one in the morning, convinced that it was time for school.  My parents thought this was hilarious-the first couple times it happened.

Here I am, sitting in front of my grandparent's "davenport", with my foxy cousin and my kewl new roller skates.  I saved my allowance and bought some sparkly green laces to match the wheels.  If you could see my ass, I'm sure you would have found a big comb in the back pocket of my Gloria Vanderbilt corduroys-totally unnecessary since I'm wearing my hair in braids.  I'm pretty sure I reeked of Love's Baby Soft, too.  I was probably trying to look like Half Pint, but her Pa was one of my secret boyfriends. 

Wow.  I had really big teeth.

I really hoped that I looked like Brooke Shields in this photo.  I think I made my mom take me to a modeling school that year.  I'm sure they concealed their mirth well since I don't bear any emotional scars from the incident. 

Apparently, I was successful in my quest to destroy all photographic evidence of my high school years.  Whew.  On to the early twenties...

I loved wearing that sweater with my stirrup pants.  {{{{shudder}}}}

Well, I've seen worse.  Much worse.  In fact, here's worse hair from that same day...

Sorry, Betsy.  Sorry, Lori.  Sorry, Jenny.  Didn't mean to throw you under the bus like that.

Guess what this is?  This, THIS, is my lame attempt at "The Rachel."

Not.even.close.

And here is me in that same dress, rocking my banana barrette.  I was just barely able to stuff my thick hair into those things.  Often, they would burst apart from the strain.

In the final photo, I attempt to duplicate the sassy short cut that Meg Ryan sports in You've Got Mail.

And again, I fail miserably.

About a year later, I finally found a hairdresser who convinced me that blow dryers and curling irons didn't need to be a part of my daily primping regimen.  She introduced me to products that would allow me to wash and go, effectively giving me back two hours of my life every day. 

Old friends

Shortly before my first marriage, I remember sitting around the kitchen table with my in-laws and future husband.  Somehow, the topic turned to books and my ex got in a little jab by mentioning my odd habit of REREADING favorite books.  My brother in law looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time, "YOU do that too?" 

His wife responded, "I could never understand how anyone could read a book more than once.  What's the point?  You already know what's going to happen."  I should note-I adore my sister in law-she is an incredibly brilliant person, and an avid reader. 

"You like listening to your favorite song more than once, don't you?  Reading a book for me is like hearing music you love over and over." 

My brother in law looked grateful in the knowledge that he wasn't the only "freak" in the room.  I was completely surprised that everyone wasn't like me.  I knew my husband wasn't, he eschewed any written material other than Sports Illustrated.  He actually purchased a Tom Clancy thriller at the airport on the way to our honeymoon and one of the pictures I took on that trip was a shot of him on a beach chair reading.  In the photo, he has an ironic grin on his face and is pointing at the novel as if to say "I can't believe it either."   I don't mean this as an insult or slam to him, my current husband isn't much better-though he claims to love me even more because I'm such a bibliophile.   

We haven't broken the single digits in temperatures here for a week.  I hunkered down over the weekend and visited with some old friends who have kept me company over the years.  I'd like to introduce you to a few of my favorites...

Angela's Ashes Frank McCourt

A very deserving winner of the Pulitzer Prize.  During the darkest days of single motherhood, I read this book once a month.  It gave me a sense of perspective-no matter how bad my life seemed at that point, I wasn't dealing with the levels of poverty that the McCourts of Limerick barely survived.   I've come across a few people who claim to hate this book because it's so "depressing."  I have the absolute opposite reaction to that, I find it uplifting and inspirational.   

Parliament of Whores PJ O'Rourke

I don't care what your political affiliation is, this book is a satiric civics lesson that is a must read.  Neither party is safe from the author's acerbic wit.  I purchased this book upon it's original release because I had always enjoyed O'Rourke's Rolling Stone essays.  In particular, one about Oliver North had me laughing to the point of tears.  I remember reading this hardcover on a park bench in Pittsburgh, desperately trying to conceal my mirth and ultimately putting the book down when I laughed so hard a little pee came out.      

Mrs. Mike by Benedict and Nancy Freedman

My copy of this is a very old hardbound that smells exactly like the library where I hung out as a young girl.  It's that musty, pulpy smell that is instantly recognizable to dedicated readers.  The pages are a thick, yellowed stock.  My mom found this copy at a garage sale one summer and insisted I read it.  She did that a lot when I was young, which in retrospect seems so odd since she wasn't an avid reader like me.  The book is the story of Katherine Mary Flannigan, a sixteen year old woman from Boston sent to live with her uncle in Canada.  She falls in love almost immediately with Mike Flannigan, a handsome Mounted Policeman.  This isn't a literary masterpiece, and in all honesty I didn't realize it was so popular until an article about it showed up in Oprah's magazine last month.  I love this book because it was the first book that completely engrossed me.  I was ten when I first picked it up, and I was literally lost in the pages for the next two days.  It represents everything I love about reading.

McCarthy's Bar by Pete McCarthy

This book was given to me by a former boyfriend whose last name was... you guessed it, McCarthy.  He bought it for my birthday after asking a salesperson in an Irish themed store for a recommendation.  Bless him and that retailer, this is one of the funniest books I've read.  The author is (rather, was-sadly he succumbed to cancer in 2004) an English travel writer who decides to spend a summer in Ireland, just as he did in his youth.  One of his rules of travel is "Never pass a bar that has your name on it," hence the title.  That becomes the premise of the book which is full of McCarthy's droll observations about fellow tourists, who rarely come off looking anything but foolish.

Nothing to Do But Stay by Carrie Young

This brief little tome is a collection of essays by a writer whose parents were Norwegian immigrants.  Food is the most prominent topic in this book, and is described in mouthwatering detail.  The book chronicles the family's struggles through the depression and ultimate triumphs.  I love the fact that the author's mother set out to homestead her own piece of land in 1904-BY HERSELF-and it was ultimately her land that she and her husband built their home on, because it was the more desirable tract.

This is hardly a complete list.  My apologies for excluding Maya Angelou, Amy Tan, David Sedaris, Stephen King and Harper Lee among others.    

Where does she get this stuff?

I was headed toward the elementary school to get the twins after crossing guard duty.  Annelise called me on the cell phone.

"Uh..Mom?"

"I'm almost there Puss."

"Okay, but that's not why I'm calling."

"What's up?"

"My ribs hurt."

"Your ribs?  Well, I'll be there in two minutes, let's talk about it when I get there."

Really, it was closer to ten minutes, but I knew this wasn't any kind of medical emergency.

When the twins got into the car I asked how their day was.  We chatted and after a couple minutes, Annelise piped up, "I just wish I knew why my ribs hurt."

"You probably just pulled a muscle.  There's nothing wrong with you."

"That's exactly what they said about poor Wilma Rudolph."

"Wilma Rudpolph?  What happened to Wilma Rudpolph?"   

"Polio."

"Trust me.  You do not have polio.  You are however, a huge goofball."

Where do I point the finger of blame?

While I was standing in the kitchen making dinner last night, Mario and Drew came downstairs and told me "something weird was happening with the computers".  Ever since the Great Hard Drive Crash of Ought Seven, I become alarmed when I hear news like that.

"What do you mean 'something weird'?" 

"When we put the Spiderman 3 DVD in the computers, a porn video starts playing."

Silently searching my memory banks.  Do Steve and I own any porn?  Nooo, we don't own any porn.  Spiderman 3?  Which one is Spiderman 3?  Is that the newest one?  Did I buy Spiderman 3?  What the hell does Spiderman 3 have to do with porn?  I saw that movie, there was no porn in that movie-was there?  No, no porn-we saw it at the IMAX-I would remember IMAX porn for sure.  I'm surprised no one has thought of that yet. 

"What do you mean it plays porn?"  DO we own any porn that we carelessly left laying around, with a Spiderman 3 label affixed to it, masking the real title?  No, I'm sure we don't own any porn.  Why am I thinking we do?  God, I really do have guilt about everything, don't I? 

Drew sat down at Steve's laptop in the kitchen and showed me the Spiderman 3 DVD.  He inserted it into the DVD tray.  Normal movie graphics at first, and then....well, I'm not going to type the name of the website that popped up...but it flashed a domain name,  then a movie title that rhymed with "Raisin Calls Kick Malls" then went right to a scene that involved an Asian woman and someone's family jewels, and she was demonstrating how much she liked to run her tongue over the...uh...jewelry.  For what it's worth-it was very good quality, not at all grainy-although it was in black and white.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!  Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off!"  I slammed the laptop shut. "What the hell was THAT?" 

The boys laughed at my obvious embarrassment.  Drew revealed that this was a different porn movie than the one that displayed on the computer upstairs-but they were both Asian. 

"That's not funny!  How did this happen?  Did I buy this DVD?  Where did it come from?  How long have we had it?"

Mario began answering my shotgunned questions,"You bought it at Sam's Club so we could watch it in the truck on the way to Ohio.  Remember?  We got it right before Thanksgiving." 

"Sam's Club?  SAM'S CLUB?  What the HELL?  It doesn't do that if you watch it on the normal DVD player does it?  You didn't show this to your COUSINS did you?"  Please, please don't tell me my sweet, innocent little nieces and nephew saw this smut.  Wait, my innocent little twelve year old just saw it.  Shit!

Mario removed the offending disc and put it into the standard DVD player attached to the TV.  Normal Spiderman movie, no Asian porn.  "It never did this before, but we never watched it on the computer before, either."

Drew suggested, "We should sue Sam's Club!  Or maybe Sony!  We should sue them for damaging Mario!"

Mario responds, "I'm not damaged.  It didn't really bother me."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Okay, seriously-has anyone ever heard of this?  What.in.the.hell?  I'm not interested in suing anyone, but for the love of God, this was not a pleasant surprise.  I can't imagine what a younger child would think.  Could a computer virus do this?  Could it be a pirated version?  I really don't have the fortitude to walk into Sam's Club and announce to the minimum wage earners there that my DVD has porn on it.  Should I call a manager though?  What would my readers do?

And to think I hated that movie before this.

This is why I need Tivo

Steve and I are actually going to Las Vegas for a business convention.  The only other time I was in Vegas was for a alcoholics Realtor convention seven years ago.  I like Vegas-especially in the winter, because it's not Minnesota.  We're enjoying a lovely freeze wave right now where it's a struggle to get out of the single digit temperatures each day.  Iowa would probably be a welcome respite from this place in January. 

While I do like Vegas, I don't love it.  I can take about four days of it and then I want it to stop.  The around the clock din of slot machines in the each of the hotels is a terrifying testament to desperation.  I don't gamble so that eliminates a lot of entertainment options.  If I ever have the urge to gaze upon bodacious tatas, I need look no further than the closest mirror(ooo, snap!), so that eliminates most of the other Vegas diversions.

I want a different Vegas experience this time around.  The last time I was there I was newly single and spent most of my evening hours in a perpetual state of inebriation.  It's amazing how much free alcohol there is in Vegas-and when you're a lightweight like me, it doesn't take much to get a buzz on.  I had one good meal, at Emeril's Delmonico Steakhouse.  It was sublime, and the service was everything I expected from a five star establishment.  The rest of my meals were spent in buffets, facing troughs of shrimp cocktail and stacks of snow crab legs.

I looked to Anthony Bourdain for some culinary guidance for this trip.  Last night, at the awful hour of eleven, the Travel Channel replayed his Las Vegas odyssey, so I fell asleep on the couch at eight and woke up three hours later so that I could catch his maiden voyage to Sin City.  It was necessary research.  I now know exactly where I want to dine during our escape from Snow City.  It's still two weeks away, but I plan to diligently file updates while there.  We'll be staying at The Luxor, which wouldn't have been my first choice, since it seems to have become THE hangout for the likes of a couple of hotel heiresses and other twenty something celebrity gadabouts, but it'll do.

Restaurants I plan to visit in Las Vegas:

1. Emeril's New Orleans Fish House It wasn't one of the places Bourdain visited, in fact, he's been incredibly derisive when the topic of Emeril arises, but I am unapologetic in my love for this chef.  There's nothing on the menu that doesn't sound delicious.   
2. Bouchon Bourdain said it was the best.  I think he knows what he's talking about. 
3. The buffet at The Wynn If I must do a buffet, this one sounds the best.  Sixteen live-action cooking stations, people! 
4. Bobby Flay's Mesa Grill Love Bobby.  Everything looks good.  I have a hunch I can get a good Margarita there, too. 

  Do you know which celebrity foodie I do not want to tour restaurants with?  My homeboy-Andrew Zimmern.  I get that the point of his Travel Channel show, Bizarre Foods, is to open our small minds to a world of culinary possibilities.  He seems like a really nice guy, and I'm bound to run into him someday around town.  But sir, please talk to the soundboard editor who works your show.  It's enough that I have to watch you take obvious delight in ingesting eyeballs and testicles and brains, but GOD, the sound of your lips smacking and crunching through the skulls of small animals, it's too much.  Ish.    

Belated honeymoon

Sometimes...

I pinch myself

when I remember I get to call this guy

my husband.

In two weeks...I get him all to myself in...VEGAS BABY!

The Very Best Taco Dip in the Whole World

If my friend Marisha cared about writing a "blob", I'd be in serious trouble.  I couldn't very well copy her recipes if she was publishing them herself.  Lucky for me, she considers this vanity project solid evidence that I have too much time on my hands.  Whatever.

Whenever Marisha has a party, I park myself next to her Taco Dip, and make sure I have a cold beverage handy-ideally, a margarita or Negra Modelo.  The dip is incredible, but you must serve it with Tostitos "Hint of Lime" chips.  Makes all the difference.  I am altering her scrumptious dish with the addition of fresh cilantro, which I can't get enough of. 

Marisha's Taco Dip

2 Cups Daisy sour cream
1 packet McCormick's extra spicy taco seasoning
Pace chunky medium salsa
2 jalapenos, diced
1 green pepper, large diced
1 bunch green onions, sliced thin
2 ripe tomatoes, diced
a palmful of fresh chopped cilantro
One head iceberg lettuce, sliced into thin pieces, then chopped

Combine the sour cream and the taco seasoning, then spread in an even layer in a 9x9 glass dish.  On top of that, spread a thin layer of the salsa-about half the depth of sour cream mixture.  On top of the salsa, sprinkle the jalapenos, green peppers, tomatoes and cilantro.  Top with lettuce.  Best if it's allowed to sit for at least an hour before serving.

If you are gastronomically weak, use the mild taco seasoning and ease up on the jalapenos....wussy.