She Learned So Much

So Peter's mother left today. Peter told us that he needed to stop by his client's office so he had to take her home early. He asked me if I wanted to tag along, and I was like, "Go to work with you? Uh...Hmmm. No."

Then later, in the bedroom, he whispers, "I'm not going to work. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

My answer was, "You LIED to us?"

"Yeah. Do you want to go into the city with me?"

"YES!!"

His mother had wanted to stay until the evening, but Peter wanted to take her home early. Because he didn't want to go through the whole song and dance of guilt, he told her he had to go to his client's office, which is 15 minutes away from her apartment.

So I did tag along, since we went to The CITY!!!! And had lunch at Angelica Kitchen! And dessert at Max the Bald Man's!!!!

I LOVE The CITY!

Later, Peter said that his mother really loved reading all the magazines I got at the library.

She was amazed that I had so many People, Us Weekly, and Vogue magazines, and he told her that I got them for her. She told him that she had a lot of fun reading them and that, "I learned so much I didn't know before about celebrities!"

At least I'm doing my job - the job of celebrity educator. Maybe I should get a PhD in that.

What're They Gonna Do?

Peter's mom is staying at our place for a few days and we were all watching Dancing With the Stars, her favorite show, when Def Leppard comes on and plays "Pour Some Sugar On Me."

As soon as Joe Elliot starts to sing, Peter says, "Oh that's lame. They're totally lip-synching."

"How can you tell?"

"Because they don't sound that good live."

"But what're they gonna do? They have to sound like themselves on the radio. Or people won't know who they are."

Beware of Dog Adopting

Peter and I have been discussing ways in which we can volunteer our time and web expertise to help a local pet shelter. That is, as soon as Peter's done with his gazillion never-ending projects. It's something we've been wanting to do lately, and now that Peter's going to have his own servers, he can afford to offer this up for free.

I told him that it might be really difficult to go to these pet shelters because we're going to want to bring all the dogs home. The only reason we've been feeding, taking out, clipping the nails from this Siberian Husky, as well as trying to remove white hairs from every single thing we own (including our backgammon board!) is because we went to a pet shop and this adorable white puppy sighed and slumped down in his kennel.

And here we are, almost seven years later.

The lesson? DO NOT go to a pet store just to look at cute puppies.

Also, we have learned since then. Do NOT ever buy a puppy from a store because they get them from horrible puppy mills.

I told Peter that we are really going to have to harden our hearts when we go to these shelters and he turned to me and said:

"Oh, I'm not stepping a foot in there."

That's because Peter's got a heart mushy like a gooey old ripened banana.

Dork!

Me: You're the biggest dork.

Peter: In the sense that I am bigger than you, then yes, I may be the bigger dork. But you are, pound-for-pound, a MUCH bigger dork than I am.

Neighborly Behavior

Now that the parking spot controversy has been solved to our liking, our neighbor has been continuously parking on the line, which is actually against the condo association rules.

How do I know this? Because right before we left for our South Carolina vacation, I parked our car in the guest spot next to our spot because we have a Honda Element. The clamshell doors on our Element may seem like a good idea...unless you are not parallel parked. If you are parked in regular parking lot spots, especially spots that are super-tight, you have to open one door - smush your body all the way to the left - then open the back door. And if you need to let someone in the backseat, it means that you must both smush in together.

Because I knew this may be a problem in terms of packing up our car, I parked in the guest spot and the front wheel of my car was touching the line. I felt that since the line impinged on our assigned parking spot, it wasn't a big deal. I was only hurting myself.

Lo and behold, as soon as I got back from vacation, there was a note from the management company stating that I had parked ON THE LINE which may be SUBJECT TO LARGE FINES.

For the past few weeks, ever since they have made our spot bigger, my neighbor has now been parking on the line, the line that distinguishes between our spot and her spot. At first I had been letting it go - I figured she might have misjudged her new space. But now it's just getting annoying.

Exhibit 1:



Exhibit 2:



I would narc on her, but I'm too lazy to tattle.

And if you click on the last photo, you will see that her license plate holder says, "Angels are watching over me."

Yeah. Watching you be a jerk!

Even Though

After our meeting with the fertility specialist, Peter said:

"I feel really good about this. There were a few times while I was sitting in his office where I felt nauseous and slightly sick to my stomach, but I feel really good."

Aww...

Isn't he so sweet?

Don't Worry

Tomorrow we're going to a fertility specialist who is going to let us know if our chances of progeny are good, not good, or impossible.

It's a visit that I've been putting off for about two years. We had just recently decided that maybe having kids may not be the most terrible mistake we'll ever make in our lives. And now, it looks like we may have to go through extensive scientific experiments to find out if we even have any chance to make the most terrible mistake of our lives.

This all started because a few weeks ago, I went to my gyno and she startlingly told me that I had not ovulated the month previously and that my estrogen levels are alarmingly low.

We had been putting off the kids thing for a few years because it's going to change our lives and every keeps saying, "Wait until you're ready."

No one ever says, "You want to go to Hawaii? Wait until you're ready."

They just say, "Go to Hawaii! It's terrific!"

Also, we had friends who told us after the birth of their son that it was the best thing that ever happened. And the way they kept saying it was like, "Best thing...best thing...best thing we ever did." Kind of like pod people. And then a few weeks later the husband was on the phone with Peter saying that his wife was threatening divorce.

Of course, this may have less to do with having kids than meeting, getting married and getting pregnant within a matter of weeks.

A few days ago, I started to second-guess myself and had a mild panic attack full of, "Maybe I shouldn't have waited so long! Maybe I should have gotten married and had kids ten years ago!"

Then I calmed down with the thought that if I can't have children, and this is the most terrible health problem I have in my lifetime, I would consider myself very lucky.

I have to say that I love my new gyno, not because she reminds me of Sandy Duncan with gray hair, but when she saw how alarmed I was when she told me that bad news about my estrogen levels, she said, "Don't worry. With all the technology we've got these days, if you want a baby, you'll have a baby."

This is much better than my old gyno, because when I asked her for a prescription for vitamins so that I could write off my vitamins in my flexible spending, her answer was, "You don't need that."

When I told her that I did need that, and that my flexible spending account stipulated that I needed that, she kept insisting that I didn't need it and refused to write me a prescription. So I didn't get to write off my vitamins. Suffice it to say, I don't think she would have been quite so supportive.

Ativan You

I got this spam email today which really made me laugh for no particular reason:

Ativan You Cheap Ativan

Is it funny to anyone else?

First Names

A few weeks ago, Peter and I got into the most tremendous fight about this blog. Basically, he didn't like the fact that I wrote about his family using their first names - case in point - Easter dinner.

I felt that this was ridiculous, since I've only got about twenty people who read my blog regularly. And you all know who you are... I am hardly Perez Hilton so I think that his family members are pretty safe from exposure-by-internet.

And yes, I did write their first names, but it's not like they have original one-of-a-kind names like Suri Cruise or Pax Jolie-Pitt. Their names are hobodinky regular names like Joe. There are probably about a million Joe's in the Tri-State area alone.

Every person in Westchester has a brother-in-law named Joe.

He suggested that I come up with pseudonyms, and I was all, "What am I supposed to do? Keep a log of all the fake names I come up with and keep a glossary of fake names I gave the real people who are NEVER GOING TO READ THIS BLOG EVER?" I mean, I have better things to do with my time and energy...like cruising the internet looking for ceramic fish umbrella stands.

But Peter felt that one day, y'know, that famous "One Day" everyone talks about, a member of his family will discover my web site and read all the posts about how awful they are, and will be VERY ANGRY.

To that, my response was, "But it's all true." My reasoning behind what I write on my blog is that if it is something I would not care for people to know, I do not share it, because I understand that this is published online, which means anyone with a computer is able to access it. Everything I write on my blog is something I would willingly share with anyone.

So that means, if you are a bitch at Easter dinner, I have every right to write about it. And creatively, I can put it in a poem, a short story, or in my case, a blog. So don't underestimate a writer with a chip on her shoulder. And you should never underestimate a writer with a chip on her shoulder who has a lot of time to kill.

So the long and the short of it is that Peter is no longer allowed to read my blog. Of course, he's going to read it anyway, but at least when he sees something he doesn't like, he can't say anything about it, because he's not even supposed to be reading it.

And I have promised to no longer write first names of anyone in his family.

Yes, this is what people who don't have children fight about. Things no one else give a crap about: Blog entries and who finished all the ice cream. Jealous anyone?

Nature Channel Right Outside Our House

Today Peter saw a hawk snatch a squirrel from a tree.

A squirrel was scurrying up a tree and WHOOM! The hawk just casually snatched it away.

Then, later as he was changing the doorbell (about seven months after it broke), he saw this big ant get stuck in a spiderweb and a teeny-tiny spider totally took it down.

Mount Kisco is full of nature.

How Can They Find That Many Ben Steins?

Tonight Ben Stein is scheduled to be on the Larry King show.

The very first time I saw the show, "Win Ben Stein's Money," the contestant they had on the show was named Ben Stein. My sister explained the concept of the show to me by saying, "You see, Ben Stein knows everything, so this other guy, whose name is also Ben Stein, is going to try to answer more questions than Ben Stein so he can win Ben Stein's money."

After my head reeled around the planet a few times, I asked:

"How many Ben Steins are there? How often is this show on that they can find that many people who are named Ben Stein? I mean, what do they do? Import people from Israel?"

For a moment, my sister looked at me like I was speaking in a different language. And yes, that language has a name, it's called: Stupidese.

And then I saw this look of recognition on her face, the, "Oh yes, must translate Stupidese into English" look. After all, I AM talking to MY SISTER.

"TODAY the show HAPPENS to have someone on the show named Ben Stein. But MOST of the time, the contestants are NOT named Ben Stein. The show is called Win Ben Stein's Money. Not Watch Another Ben Stein Win Ben Stein's Money."

"Yah...Gotcha."

I Still Stink!

The Crabtree and Old Lady Lotion still stinks! I've washed my hands about 17 times and the smell is still going strong. I think the fragrance has been seeped into my hands permanently.

This is La Source body lotion which I got from the Hilton Hotel in Atlanta. I had to throw it out because it's just too much!

Which is strange because I've used their soap, body wash, shampoo and conditioner and all I got was a pleasantly light scent.

I've washed my hands and put other lotions on my hands to negate the scent, but nothing is working.

I think I just might smell like this forever.

Crabtree and Old Lady

Sitting in the car on the way to the library:

Peter: What is that smell?

Me: Lotion.

Peter: What kind of lotion?

Me: Crabtree & Evelyn

Peter: More like Crabtree & Old Lady. You smell like a real estate lady.

He Puts Our Servants To Shame

I went to the doctor today, a completely new doctor picked out of the hat I call My HMO. As I was waiting for her in the examination room, I perused a copy of People Magazine that has Jennifer Lopez on the cover.

She was quoted as saying that her husband is so good with the children that he puts the help to shame.

I thought that was such a strange thing to say. On one hand, I thought, "Well, they are your kids. So, yes, you should probably take care of them better than your servants.

On the other hand...No, there is no other hand. It's kind of a weird thing to say, and a little creepy.

But then again, they live on Long Island.

When Peter and I went to his niece's christening, the priest actually said:

"You all have people you hire to help you take care of your children. And we have to act like the hired help, except we're helping Jesus."

I guess he was just speaking in a language they would understand: LongIslandese

That James Bond Guy = Yoda

=

Hold On While I Swirl My Scepter in There

We went to Peter's friend's Birthday Dinner last Saturday. He turned 40 and there was no Superbowl on, but whatever, other people can do what they want.

The thing is, whenever we go to this person's house, or he and his wife bring their child to our place, we get nervous that we won't be able to eat. Not because the food isn't good, because it is, but they have a daughter who likes to touch food that is on the table.

By the way, did I ever mention that I'm a germophobe? With a specific fear of child-carrying-bacteria?

One time she came over to our house and we had made roasted potatoes. As soon as we placed them on the table, she proceeded to touch every potato on the platter. Peter and I looked at each other like, "I guess the dogs are getting lucky tonight."

When we went to their house the other night, Peter's friend put a bowl of potato chips on the table and, since the little girl was in her fairy outfit, she took the scepter - ooops, I meant her Magic Wand, and swirled it around in the potato chips.

So when the tofu came out of the grill and was placed on the table, Peter snatched it up.

"I saw her eyeing it," Peter said. "And there's no way in HELL I'm not eating tonight!"

Artichoke Heart & Spinach Gratin

In the past, I've been reluctant to post recipes that are taken from someone's cookbook. However, I found this article that says it's okay as long as you attribute it. So here is a recipe that has been requested. It is sooooo delicious.

This recipe is adapted from Mollie Katzen's in her new book, The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without.

1 6 oz bag of frozen artichoke hearts (She uses 12 oz artichokes)
1 pound of baby spinach leaves
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1 cup minced onions
2 teaspoons minced garlic
salt
ground pepper
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/3 cup grated Asiago cheese (She uses Parmesan Cheese, but I didn't have any)

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

2. Run tap water through the artichoke hearts in a colander to defrost and drain.

3. Wash and rinse spinach and drain most of the water off.

4. In a skillet, add onions and saute with olive oil for 5 minutes until translucent.

5. Add spinach, increase heat and cover. Use tongs to toss until wilted, then uncover and cook for a few minutes until the liquids have mostly evaporated.

6. Reduce heat, add garlic, salt and black pepper to taste. Stir in the artichoke hearts and cover with bread crumbs. Then cover with cheese.

7. Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is golden delicious!

200 Posts!

This is my 200th post! I can't believe I've already written 200 items of random stuff!

Yay for random stuff!