So, I've been watching a lot of television since my most recent knee-related surgical intervention (the Demerol allows me the temporary delusion that I don't USUALLY watch several hours of television per night) , and since I watch almost nothing but cabl--specifically TNT, USA, Bravo, MSNBC and truTV--, I see a lot of second tier advertising, and the product of the moment seems to be Barack Obama plates and coins. Who, pray tell, is buying the multitudes of dollars, half dollars and other Liberian legal tender brandished with full color images of Barack Obama? I say multitudes, but that might be hyperbole on my part since the ever-so persuasive voiceover man assures me that there will only be "65 firing days before the molds are destroyed"--this has such an air of finality to it, don't you think? I suppose it's supposed to make me frantically pick up the phone and get my order in before the chance has passed...hold it. I just took a moment and did the math and the 65th day passed sometime around January 8 or 9...that makes the end of days for ordering seem that much nearer.

Sidenote: I'm not very good at exact numbers, which should demonstrate exactly why I suck ass in the math department, forgive me, Joy Parker, please, forgive me. It's not your fault. I blame Mr. Anthony and his constant threats about "building a barn" as he thwacked his paddle menacingly his hand that basically caused me to go into total mental shutdown when I walked into math class in 5th grade...and wtf did "building a barn" mean, exactly?

Anyway, middle school moment aside, what to do, what to do. I'm as big a fan of Obama as the next person...okay, not Kari because she harbors unclean thoughts about him, but the average fiscally conservative, socially liberal, almost-middle-aged, suburban America old, fat white chick, and for the life of me I can't figure out what the draw is. Not even the promise of receiving a signed Certificate of Authenticity AND an attractive bonus display stand can make me take the plunge and plunk down the $19.99 required to hang Obama on china on my dining room wall. This is me assuming, of course, that one displays decorative political dishware in one's dining room. And does the certificate ensure the plate will hold its resale value on the resale market? And is there a viable secondary market for Obamania plates and coins? I can't help but feel that I'm missing out on the present-day equivalent to the Apple IPO. Will I be kicking myself for not securing a piece of American history?

Sweet Jesus, hold the phone, I've found the motherlode! A website that sells both 'collectibles of the highest quality", the coin AND The Historic Victory Plate, which features

a priceless work of art featuring the triumphant President-Elect surrounded by the American flag and spectacular fireworks celebration.

Well, if the fireworks don't seal the deal for you, then you're just unAmerican (not a big threat for many of you since according to various folks on FOX, you're already unAmerican because you voted for Obama and against the constitution, the flag (pins and all) and Jesus). Keep in mind that "due to the unprecedented demand there is a strict limit of two per caller, so give your kids the CC# and a phone so they can get their orders in quick, too. Oh, damn, all sarcasm aside, I see that the website has the "As Seen on TV" logo and that gives me pause. While others may mock and jeer, I'm a longtime fan of the ASOTV products...old-time friends may remember the Pasta Pro Cooker that Five gave me when he was about 7 and, say what you want, the most ingenious personal grooming product of the 21st century, the Ped Egg, is a staple in the ASOTV catalog of fine products. Could the plate and coin REALLY be that bad after all? Perhaps they ARE truly a deal to be considered?......oh, wait...

This first collectors issue plate celebrates with the inscription "Change Has Come" scripted in 22K Gold text. The back displays the seal of the American Historic Society and documents the historic electoral and popular vote totals on election day.

And like that, the bloom is off the rose. Dear Mr. Marketing Director for the American historic Society, if you can't use apostrophes correctly? Don't expect me to take your investment advice seriously.

Labels: burning questions, linkage, politics, television

If I were to be driving along a fairly busy four-lane road and say, accidentally nearly hit a couple of Amish guys standing on the yellow line trying to cross traffic because I wasn't as alert as I should have been...well, nearly hit is such a strong phrase...more like, swerved and potentially startled a couple of Amish men..okay, scared them a bit...not like 'peeing in their pants' scared, but 'OMFG get out of the way' scared...well, without the F and G part of that acronym since I guess they wouldn't say "fucking" or take God's name in vain in a moment of life-or-death fear... although I've seen a couple of those Dateline specials about how wild and crazy some Amish guys can be in their youth and once you've experienced the effectiveness of expressing anger, fear, confusion, disgust and the like by the use of gratuitous swear word, it might be that you can't put that Genie/genie back in the proverbial bottle (slightly OT...would an Amish person get that Genie/genie reference reference?), so who knows what they might say....aw, fuck, I've totally lost my train of thought now....oh, yeah. Would God hold me to a stiffer penalty if I caused life-altering fear/pain/death to the Amish or are they worth the same hellfire as regular people. By regular people I mean you and me, not, say a crackhead or a Ted-Bundy-in-training or a politician or whack job like ol' Rev. Phelps.

Thus endeth my philosophical rambling for today.

Labels: burning questions, inquiring minds, ramble, religion

Why is it that when I tan, my stomach goes to the most gorgeous shade of brown while my legs and arms stay about three shades paler and sort of splotchy? Oh, and the space between my boobs is also super dark. Needless to say, the general viewing public doesn't get to admire my tan.

And yes, I know that tanning is unhealthy. I do. I don't burn, though, and I will limit it to April and May, then hang out in the sun with sunscreen on.

Labels: burning questions

Say you are walking through the parking lot of a fairly large strip mall-type place in your fair city. It is pretty full of cars, the weather is iffy and you're in a hurry to get your Goodwill purchases home so you can do laundry. Because you are a natural klutz, you have a tendancy to look down toward the ground while walking, lest you step in gum, smack into a sideview mirror, trip over a curb or just fall down. Since you are looking down (in hindsight, thank God you were), you happen to notice a rather odd-looking, rectangular pillowy-looking object directly in your path, a little ways ahead (I'd give you a feet/yards estimate, but I've tried to put a number on it and I can't really seem to get it quite right since I have almost no sense of length perception. I can do football field (this was not that long) and arm's length (this was longer) ). You ponder this and wonder what it is...

1. A sack of flour? You are in a Piggly Wiggly parking lot, after all (it's next door to the Goodwill and brand-spanking new. I have only been in there once because Sam needed to pee and the Goodwill doesn't have public restrooms--not that I would let him use it if they did).

2. A pillow? Stranger things have fallen from your own vehicle.

3. A swim float? It's a little early, but you never know.....

4. A balloon? Some people buy that kind of shit for Easter. None of these really capture the true essence of the object, so you speed up and peer closely as you approach. You notice that there is a rope, no, it's tubing attached to the pillowy thing. And the tubing is hanging from the Jeep Cherokee right beside the object..........WTF? It isn't. It can't be. No.freaking.way.

By now, you are within spitting distance of said object and, having had three c-sections as well as major abdominal surgery and visited several old folks in the hospital, you are sure. There can be no doubt. What we have here, in the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly/Goodwill/new tanning salon with absolutley awesome beds that was running a special for $18.95/tan all you want for a month so you signed up/new Mexican restaurant/24-hour gym that you joined and went to once, thus paying $40 for one trip to said gym/over price sporting goods place and appliance store from which you will never make a purchase/your dentist....where was I? Oh, yeah, lying in this parking lot with the tubing still attached, and much to your disgust is a FULL CATHETER BAG. You know...the thing with pee in it? And there's still pee in the tube.

Seeing the pee in the tube, you immediately look to see (from a comfortably hygenic distance) if your worst suspicions are true. You hope in vain that it has somehow been discarded due to fullness or inadvertently dropped and left behind (the thought of this makes you almost convulse in pain), but your worst fears are confirmed---it appears to be attached to the man who is slumped over asleep in passenger seat. He is moving as he breathes, so you're assured he is not dead. The door is slightly ajar to allow the tubing some room. So now what. Who the hell puts their catheter bag out in the freaking parking lot? Obviously, this is in error, right? It has to be. So, do you knock on the car door and point out to the man that his urine-collection device is lying in the parking lot for all the world to see? OR do you just walk on by, saving both of you a little emotional distress. I mean, the thing might have been in the way, so he just put it on the ground. Maybe it needed to be significantly lower than the bladder area in order to work at optimum efficiency (judging by the content, the thing is DEFINITELY working).

As you chose the latter and make your way quickly to the car, you are suddenly wracked with guilt. What if the driver of the Jeep comes out of the Piggly Wiggly and, seeing the passenger is asleep, starts the car and quietly drives off without waking him, never realizing, until it's too late, that trailing alongside the car, much like some macabre Just Married regalia is a full catheter bag bouncing along the highway...until a wrong turn or a close pass from another vehicle or gravity and some sort of physics laws (I didn't take physics, but I'm assuming one of the laws would apply here, yes?) intervene and the bag or tube or everything is suddenly detached and left to fly into the windshield of a passing car? Or bounce into the path of a local biker? Or be lobbed into the air and land in a brilliant yellow explosion at the feet of a local homeless woman searching the shoulder of the road for cans or 20 million in cash lying in a ditch (okay, if that were guaranteed to happen, this would be no dilemma).

You are tempted to stay in your van and wait for the driver to emerge, but sadly, you must haul ass across town to pick up the middle child from bball at the Y, so you cannot stay. As you leave, you wonder, what happend? What should I have said? What should I have done? Is there a right answer for such an obviously WRONG situation?

WWYD?

PS: if you have any stray catheter bag stories you'd like to share, please feel free to do so in comments.

Labels: burning questions, my life, weird shit

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm 39 today. It is a weird number for me--it seems sooooo fucking old to me. Sort of 'final' in a way. And I know, it's really not a big deal and that 40 is not technically OLD, but it's my brain and I can't make it think any other way. See, I don't actually feel like an adult most of the time. It is almost foreign to me that I have a child about to start high school and I don't have anymore babies...and never will. I am insanely immature. When I see someone like Heidi Klum or some wunderkid business magnate and realize that I am OLDER than them, it just blows my mind. I simply do not feel like a grown-up. I realized the other day that I don't refer to myself as a woman, but as a girl. There's some therapy need, ya think?

W. and I do low key birthdays mainly because we're pretty much always wiped out in March (property taxes) and June (summer, no pay, live off savings), so I don't really get gifts much anymore, which is okay by me. I was given some gift cards yesterday at work by three co-workers (Itunes and Wal Mart), which was very sweet and really made my day. I do love to shop, of course. MIL and my parents will give me money unless I specify something that I really want, but I can never think of anything that I truly NEED. This year is no different. I can't think of what to ask for, so I always end up with cash. I think this year I will pick a store and ask for gift cards if I can't think of an object; otherwise, I know myself well enough to know that my birthday gift will end up being my cell phone bill or groceries or something like that. I rather feel like I should begin looking to acquire more grown-up things...I just can't think what they might be, lol. I have no hobbies to speak of, I don't need any clothes other than a winter coat and a new bathing suit, I have enough makeup for three women (see, I'm trying)...what to get?


So here's my question--what would you ask for as a bday gift? A realistic one--not an Italian villa or Brad Pitt. Give me some ideas---I need to be inspired.

I'm going to make this year positively awesome. I am bound and determined to be one of those people that everyone hates--"No way she's forty...she doesn't look 30!"--okay, that may be a bit optimistic, lol, but I'm going to work my ass off figuratively and literally this year and make forty look fabtabulous...after I finish eating the cookies that W. made for me, of course.

Labels: burning questions, celebration