I thought I had taken a video of Eric’s “Author’s Night” at school. But the video wasn’t on the camera. It wasn’t. I looked. Multiple times!
So imagine my surprise when I was just viewing photos I uploaded today. And the video from last night was on the computer.
Photo: sweetteadiaries.com
I’m not sure which is worse. Not properly recording the video. Or not being able to find it.
Either way, I should just say NO to video.
P.S. Yes, you can hear “Jack’s” phone conversation in the background…
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Tonight was Author’s Night. A bunch of 4th graders, including Eric, read stories they wrote. It was very cute. Really, it was.
When I found out Jim had a work conflict and couldn’t attend, I told him I’d videotape Eric. For the few of you other than me that are still watching the (downfall of) The Office, you will remember in the most recent episode that Jim Halpert missed his daughter’s dance recital because of work. Pam told Jim she would video the recital so he could watch. But she messed up. (For the rest of you that gave up on the show when Steve Carrell left, click here for a recap.)
Earlier today I joked that I needed to make sure I didn’t “Pull a Pam.”
I did.
Before Eric read his story, I practiced. I have a beautiful test video of the floor.
As Eric began speaking, I pushed the same buttons. There was even a red dot on the screen. I found a spot to stand where I’d have an unobstructed view. I steadied my hand. I did everything right.
Only I didn’t.
There is no video. Not even a few seconds.
I’m a videot.
I did at least get a photo.
Up at the mic!
Maybe it is for the best that I pulled a Pam. Because now I don’t have a video reminder of the Jackhole who decided it was ok to answer his cell phone. While Eric was reading his story.
I wish I had a video of my friend’s face, who was sitting in front of me, as she turned around to incredulously look at…we’ll just call him “Jack” for short. Oh wait, I should have a video of it.
Jack did have the “courtesy” to walk out into the hallway (while talking the whole way across the gym) where he continued his phone conversation. With the gym door open.
Eric didn’t notice the interruption and I was able to save my disbelief for afterwards so I could focus on him and enjoy his moment in the spotlight.
Several of the student authors definitely have the potential of going on to be adult writers. When they go on their book tours and speak in front of an audience , I will offer them this tip…
Remember our foster kitten, Bob B. McKitty? (If not, click here for a reminder.) I was convinced he was related to the famous Hunter S. Thomcat. But maybe I just knew he was destined for fame.
We had Bob for 6 months – which is the longest time we’ve ever had a foster – even though he is the BEST foster ever. Well, except when a potential adopter would come meet him. Then he’d turn into the snootiest, least snuggly, most uncooperative cat in the world. I won’t even mention what he did at an adoption event at a Petsmart. His personality would change so much we could have written a kitty version of the “What About Bob?” movie about his personality disorder.
But now I know why. He was just waiting for bigger and better things. He recently was adopted by Greta Van Susteren’s brother in Vermont.
And just HOW did he get to Vermont, you may ask? He flew on Greta’s PRIVATE jet, that’s how!
Only Bob would get to travel in style like that.
Photo: economist.com
I heard it has gone to his head though…
Photo: memegenerator.com
Yes, Bob is now living the good life. Greta even wrote about him on her blog…
I should be greeting my guests right now for our annual Chili Cook-off party. I should be showing them where to put their coats. I should be showing the contest participants where to put their entries. I should be smelling the spices from the various recipes. I should be handing out tickets for voting. I should be all smiles.
I shouldn’t be stuck in bed with lymph nodes so swollen I can’t turn my head. I shouldn’t be feeling my throat get worse and worse with each swallow. I shouldn’t feel like I’m in quick sand when I try to move. My husband shouldn’t have spent all day trying to get in touch with everyone on the guest list to tell them the party is cancelled. I shouldn’t be in tears.
We hosted our first Chili Cook-off 18 years ago. I love hosting parties. My body doesn’t. I almost always get sick shortly after hosting anything. We refer to it as my “PPSS.” Post Party Stress Syndrome. I know it isn’t a coincidence that I ended up being sick enough to send me to the ER the past two Februaries (the Chili party is always the end of January).
But apparently my body has decided it isn’t going to wait until AFTER big events anymore. It has now chosen twice to shut down DURING. And ruin things.
I always tell people the treatments I’ve tried during the past 5 years have improved my symptoms. Malaria medicine that looks – and tastes – like fluorescent paint. Antibiotics. Handfuls of supplements. More antibiotics. Not to mention the multitude of tests I have endured to try to make some sense out of some of the bizarre symptoms. And I do know that I am better. But I sometimes wonder if the medicine has helped as much as I think, or if I have just adjusted my lifestyle to accommodate.
I evaluate the effort required for everything I do to decide if it is worth using my limited energy.
I now know I must schedule in a nap (at least once) daily. My kids are now older and more self-sufficient, and therefore less physically taxing. I have lowered my standards of what a “clean house” means. I have raised the acceptable level of “video game time” so I can rest. We eat out much more than we used to. My kids don’t have friends over as often as they’d like. I have given up hobbies. I have given up a lot.
And now apparently it is trying to make me give up my parties.
So, am I really winning against the disease? Or is it winning against me?
Every day I have to live within the constraints that my body sets for me. And when I don’t, I pay the price.
Some days the price is higher than others. Like today.
But tomorrow is another day. Another day with a 10 pound pot of chili lookin’ for a party.
(In case you haven’t read My Sick and Tired List, click here.)
I will probably delete the rest of this but feel the need to vent. And no one reads blogs on the weekends anyway so it is a good opportunity to get my frustrations out…
To the lady woman who commented “Boo. Another A-list wannabe. Puke!” on my post about my lunch with Melissa:
Screw. You.
My trip was a much needed break from the daily struggles of my “L-list” life (lyme and lupus life). And if you had actually bothered to read the rest of my posts about the trip, you’d know that even going to another state wasn’t enough to escape the problems. They followed me there too.
But it was still a very exciting experience that I wanted to share.
And I’ll take my sick life any day over a life so bitter that you can’t stand to read about a little happiness in someone else’s life without being snarky.
…And I must point out that you made that comment while posting on the Real Housewives FAN Page…
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For those of you just tuning in, I recently went on a whirlwind trip to NYC including lunch with Melissa Gorga – courtesy of Voli Light Vodka – for winning their Housewife Heroes contest. I wrote a guest blog post on Voli’s blog about it!
For those of you that have read the rest of the journey, you’ve made it through the “bad and the ugly” parts about my mishaps, trials and tribulations. Now you will be rewarded with the good. The fancy-schmancy parts of the trip. The conversations I had with Melissa. The pampering. But to read about it you have to click HERE or the link below!
No catchy title for this post. I thought about calling it “In a New York Minute” since the lunch – and trip – seemed to be over in the blink of an eye. But I went with shameless celebrity name dropping instead to attract more readers.
The Voli blog post is just the tip of the iceberg. And there were times I felt like the Titanic. In case you missed it, MUCH more about those stories of the trip can be found in these links…
Plus, there was an official press packet that was picked up by some “celebrity” blogs. They all say pretty much the same thing but I had to include multiple ones. What can I say…seeing my name with all the celebrities made me all starry eyed.
(To read the other parts of my NYC trip, click here.)
Well, I’m out-of-order again. This should be posted after the Voli guest blog post with the details about lunch with Melissa Gorga. But since I’m not sure how long it will take them to review what I wrote and since it has been two weeks since the trip, I’m going to go ahead and wrap this story up! (Don’t worry, I will still post the link to the Voli post when it is published!).
After lunch with the Jersey girl, we spent the evening with the Jersey Boys (after a nap to re-charge, of course! Sorry “city that never sleeps” – you may need to change your name after my visit!)!
The Broadway show was all I hoped it would be. Loved it!
After the show, we had a late dinner at John’s Pizzeria (yeah, we made sure we got our fill of NY pizza) which was recommended by George (Melissa’s make-up artist). I actually preferred it over Lombardi’s. Both were fantastic, but I liked this crust a bit better. And yes, Jim is sticking his tongue out.
It was freezing cold that evening, so the 5 block walk back to the hotel seemed very long! I was happy to get under some warm covers.
___
The next morning we woke with a lot still left on the “want-to-see” list. Unfortunately my pillow won for the “must-see” list. I thought we’d leave the hotel long before the noon check-out time but I think we left the building at about 11:57.
Luckily our flight was late in the day, so we still had several hours. By this point of the trip, my joints were rebelling from all the walking and the frigid temps made matters worse. We ate lunch at Bubba Gump Shrimp Co., mainly because we had eaten at one in Florida years ago. I was hoping mind over body would transport me to Florida so I wouldn’t feel chilled to the bone for a moment!
FYI, I could live on nothing but the “Seafood Hush Pups” for at least a month! Of course I had to get a photo on the bench with the “Life Is Like A Box Of Brown Stuff Chocolates” box.
I must have been missing the kids a lot by this point, because most of the stops we made the rest of the afternoon were kid related. Souvenir shopping, naturally, and a pit-stop to see the amazing Toys R Us store. A ferris wheel IN the store. Wow!
Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory in Toys R Us was just as Wonky as the movie. I got stuck in the endless tunnel.
After seeing the New York Toys R Us photos, my kids will never want to step foot in our local store again. Just one story and no carnival rides?? Just look at how boring it looks…
The busiest store we visited was the 3 story M&M store.
We witnessed a turf war. Elmo vs. Elmo. Luckily Batman was there to resolve the territorial dispute.
No trip to NYC is complete without a Naked Cowboy sighting.
We didn’t want THAT to be our last memory of the city, so our grand finale was a trip to the Top of the Rock for a bird’s-eye view.
Time for Hugh to take us back to the airport. Good-bye NYC.
When we arrived back at Dulles airport, I took all necessary precautions to make sure no paparazzi recognized me. (Yes, those are Voli sunglasses that were in my care package.) My disguise must have worked because not a single photog recognized me. Glad I dodged THAT bullet!
We didn’t know what to do after we left baggage claim. I mean NO ONE had a sign with our name on it. NO ONE offered to carry our luggage. Gawsh.
We had to walk ALL the way to the parking garage and then the worst thing of all happened. We had to DRIVE OURSELVES HOME.
Not impressed.
Fairy Tale is over. Back to life. Back to reality.
But I think we just may live happily ever after anyway!
___
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Thanks for following along with my Housewife Hero journey with a Real Housewife.
Don’t forget to follow Momopolize by email (upper right corner of this page). Any heroes you read about from here on will most likely be of the submarine sandwich variety. My glamorous real housewife life may be over, but my HUMOROUS real housewife life will continue on and on and on!
But – JUST IN CASE – don’t be surprised if you see me around town incognito…
Our dogs ran off yesterday. I looked outside and the gate at the back of our fenced yard was opened. Panic ensued. Lots of yelling, whistling and clapping (not sure what I thought the clapping would accomplish.) I remembered the last time the escaped – they would never have stopped if I hadn’t been in pursuit – so I knew that, even though they had been out for less than 10 minutes, they could have been anywhere!
I started driving around (even though, as I said, they could have been anywhere). Unfortunately all this occurred when I was supposed to be picking up the kids from school. I pulled up to school 5 minutes late and yelled “GET IN!” It could have been a get-away scene in a movie as we sped away. OK, I wasn’t speeding. Even in a panic I don’t speed in school zones.
After driving up and down every street around, I finally drove to a cul-de-sac that has access to the woods without trudging through waist-high brush. I walked down the path and over the board “bridge” that crosses a creek. It is literally a board. Shockingly I didn’t fall in. Admit it. You were hoping I’d say I did.
I saw something brown pouncing around in the distance. Then I saw TWO somethings brown. I couldn’t get a good view, so stood there for a moment to make sure it wasn’t deer. Too small for deer so it MUST be the dogs.
I started running through the muddy woods (in shoes I have only worn 3 times) getting closer and closer. Yelling and whistling (and still clapping) even louder now. I could only see one now and she wouldn’t come toward my calls. She just kept jumping on top of a pile of branches, disappearing underneath them and reappearing again on top.
Photo: flickr.com/vince1471
As I got really close, I stopped and got a good look. It wasn’t the dogs. It was a FOX! And the branches were probably covering her den.
I just ran up on a Momma fox protecting her babies.
Crap!
Luckily she chose to forgive my stupidity and went back in the den as I ran back toward the car.
It had been over an hour, so my mind switched to figuring out which photo would show up best on the “Lost Dogs” flier. Just then the phone rang. A good Samaritan had my wet, muddy dogs in her garage! They had followed the same creek I walked across all the way to her house. About 3 miles away.
Photo bedbathandbeyond.com
I think I’m going to buy one of those Potty Patch thingamabobs and never let the dogs outside again.
P.S. We never use that gate because it only leads to the waist high brush – and I was the only one home all day – so I’m left with the mystery of….Who let the dogs out? Who? Who? Who?
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I had to take a break from my NYC posts to tell you this. It is too funny to wait.
Jim witnessed this while in the checkout line at Walmart.
Lady in front of him had purchases totaling 90 cents. She gave the cashier a 50 cent piece, 3 quarters, a dime and 5 pennies. Keep the denominations in mind. That is key.
Cashier: What’s this?
Lady: It is a 50 cent piece.
Cashier (examines it with a puzzled look): Ummm…
Lady: Yeah, that’s 50. And (counting the QUARTERS) 60, 70, 80. And this makes 85 (adding the DIME). 86, 87, 88, 89, 90 (counting the pennies..she at least counted those correctly).
Cashier (Holding up one of the quarters): I can’t accept this.
Lady: Why?
Cashier: It isn’t US currency. It says it is from Indiana.
Photo: thedailyshow.com
Jim stood for a few minutes watching in disbelief as the cashier wouldn’t accept the quarter and neither the cashier nor the lady realized the coins actually added up to $1.40. Finally Jim couldn’t stand it any longer. He handed the 50 cent piece and 2 quarters to the cashier and said “This is $1. Give her 10 cents back. She can keep her Indiana money.”
The cashier wouldn’t even look at him after that.
_____
After viewing these photos taken an Indiana Walmart, perhaps the cashier was correct. They DO seem to be from another world…
“A dime is 10 cents??? But it’s smaller than a nickel.” Photo: peopleofwalmart.comMonkeys in Walmart? Toto, we aren’t in Kansas anymore… Photo: peopleofwalmart.com
This guy in a Georgia Walmart probably could have helped the confusion. He even makes his bling out of money…
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(To read the parts of the NYC trip that you may have missed, click here.)
I promised you the good, the bad and the ugly when writing about my trip to New York. I intended to give you the good first, with a post on Voli’s blog about the fabulous parts of lunch with Melissa. It is taking longer to get on their blog as a writer than anticipated so, unfortunately, you get the bad and the ugly now instead of later. The “Yes, this crap really happens to me all the time” version of the day.
I wanted to JUST have a best-lunch-ever-living-the-good-life-for-a-day story to share with you about my lunch with Melissa. I think that’s what everyone wants to read. What everyone wants to hear. Don’t get me wrong. It was an incredible experience. But, as with most things in life, perfection is rare!
Living with Lyme Disease means that when I stress too much or do too much, my body freaks out on me. To put it in more official terms, it has an inflammatory response. It can happen suddenly. The morning of lunch, I guess my body decided to punish me for stressing too much. And for having too much fun the day before.
I woke in a fog, with a swollen face, hands and feet and feeling as if I had been hit by a truck. I knew the feeling all too well. Usually I can just hide in my bed when I’m feeling this way. And usually when I have something major going on in my life, adrenaline seems to get me through it. I usually don’t get ill until AFTERWARDS. But not this time.
I dragged myself out of bed. I stared in the mirror and wanted to scream. “Damn you body! Not today. This is my weekend to be a princess. It isn’t midnight yet. And I’m not supposed to be the one to turn into a pumpkin!”
I instantly put on my special high-rise shoes. I knew that if I was already swollen, that it would only get worse as the day went on. I had already bought the shoes a size too large, just in case. But if I waited too long, there was no way I’d get them on.
Fortunately, before the trip, my hair stylist had suggested a keratin treatment that makes my hair easy to straighten for about a week (Not the straightener with formaldehyde, I have enough toxins in my body without adding that.). I made an appointment for the keratin, plus a haircut and highlights. UNfortunately, my stylist decided to move to Utah the week before the trip. The nerve. I was able to switch the appointment to a new stylist for the keratin but didn’t want to risk a hair cut or highlights with someone new. So I had grey roots, split ends and bangs in my eyes. But even though every inch of my body hurt, I was able to have straight hair. Small victories. I planned to curl it and make it look all fancy and shiz, but that wasn’t in the cards.
The foggy feeling is appropriately called “brain fog” and it makes me so ditzy that if it had happened the night before, I probably would have thought the rosemary sprig in my drink actually WAS a tree branch. Of all the symptoms of lyme, I think I hate the cognitive ones the worst. Feeling like your brain won’t work just plain sucks.
While laying in bed, having a mini pity party over how I felt and trying to muster the energy to make my hair look more glamorous, the fire alarm went off. I kid you not. Lights flashing. Alarms sounding. Did I mention we were on the 16th floor? And that I was wearing a bathrobe? It went on for 15 minutes. It turned out to be a false alarm. They were just testing the detectors. A little heads up would have been nice…
I pulled myself together before George, the make-up artist, arrived. It was very hard not to put make-up on. I mean, he has met a lot of celebrities and was going to see me with NO make-up on. Yikes. But I realized how silly it would be for me to put make-up on, just for him to remove it to work his magic.
I had turned the TV on that morning since some of the morning shows are broadcast in NYC. Seemed like the thing to do since I was there. Access Hollywood was doing a special live broadcast from Rockefeller Plaza which was only a couple of blocks away. Jim had gone out to buy something for me. OK, I must admit…I made him go buy Spanx for me at THE Saks 5th Avenue. I guess I thought making my butt look smaller would detract from the puffiness. Who knows. But he went to get them. What a nice husband. Shopping in the lingerie section of a 10 story department store. Anyway, I digress. Jim came back carrying the little shopping bag and said he had walked by an area by Rockefeller Plaza that was blocked off for a show and had tried to get close enough to see what it was. I pointed to the TV and he realized it was Access Hollywood. Pretty funny that he walked by the show I was watching. (That story would have been much funnier if I had actually seen him in the crowd.)
When George arrived, I was worried he would have an “I can’t believe I have to waste my time doing make-up for this nobody housewife, when I usually do make-up for THE Housewives” attitude but he couldn’t have been nicer! We talked a bit about Access Hollywood and then Jim announced that he was going out for a cup of coffee. After he left, I was SURE he was going to go back to the Access Hollywood location and start making a fool of himself to get on camera so I’d see him on TV. But he really did just go get coffee. I guess he just wanted to leave because watching me get my make-up done was about as exciting as watching paint dry. I guess it pretty much IS watching paint dry.
Snooki and JWoww from Jersey Shore were on Access Hollywood, talking about a new show they are going to be on. I recognized Snooki but had to ask George who the other girl was. He knows them both and has hung out with them. On the Jersey Shore, of course. The place, not the show. When Jim returned with his coffee, he looked at the TV and announced “I’ll have to tell the kids that I walked by iCarly and the girl from Victorious.” Yes, Jim was serious. That’s who he thought they were. I’m sure George just shook his head at our cluelessness. We should have studied up on our reality stars before the trip.
My make-up session took over an hour (as opposed to my usual 5 minutes), so when George finished, it was time to head to the restaurant. I quickly changed my clothes and tried to fix my hair that had been held back by clips. Unfortunately, pre-hairsprayed hair clipped back for an hour is pretty much going to stay put exactly where it is. One last spray to try to keep my bangs where I wanted them and not where the clips put it was unsuccessful.
Oh well, not the perfect health for the day. And not the perfect hair. But my make-up looked good. And I had my nice, new expensive outfit.
During one last glimpse in the mirror, I noticed some black spots on my shirt. Apparently that fabric didn’t like hair spray. They wouldn’t go away. Gah.
Now not the perfect outfit either. No time to fret, and off we went to hail a cab. Swollen body, messed hair and stained clothes and all.
(I need to leave some topics to write about on Voli’s blog so will talk more about the make-up session and George then!)
From the moment we arrived in NY, I had noticed every single crack, chip, hole and grate in the sidewalks. I had repeatedly commented about how careful I would have to be when walking on the uneven sidewalk while wearing my ridiculously high-heel shoes. Since I was in a complete fog that morning, I didn’t heed my own warnings. I completely forgot about the fact that I was standing on 3″ stilts. Within 10 steps out of the hotel, I stepped on a crack and almost broke this Momma’s back. Or ankle. Completely turned my foot over and was going down. Luckily Jim caught me so I didn’t end up sprawled on the ground. I realized I hadn’t buckled that shoe. I’m not sure if that helped cause the fall or it prevented me from actually breaking my ankle since my foot was able to slip out of the shoe as I went down.
The almost wipe out snapped me out of my stupor for a bit. We arrived at the restaurant and I was semi-functioning cognitively. Semi. As the lunch went on, I could feel myself going down hill again. I had so many questions to ask Melissa and I forgot to ask her at least half of them. I tried to so hard to focus and remember but I was just blank. I especially wanted to ask about her book deal but…blank. I had printed out the story from my contest entry that won me the trip to take for her to autograph. But I left it at the hotel. Luckily I was at least able to answer most of the questions Melissa asked me without sounding like a total idiot (I think.)
I kept pulling my sleeves down as far as I could, to try to conceal my increasingly puffy fingers. I don’t know what causes the swelling. I guess my body takes the word “inflammation” literally. There are so many times I will see someone one day who will comment “Wow, you’ve lost weight so fast. What’s your secret?” I want to answer “Ask the effing lyme bacteria. I guess they are tired today and didn’t feel like adding on 10 pounds of swelling like they do most days.” But instead I usually say “Thanks. It must be a slimming outfit.”
(Again, I will write about all of the AWESOME parts of lunch on Voli’s blog. Sorry you are getting the crappy parts here.)
By the time we got back to the hotel, my feet were bulging out between the straps of my shoes. I didn’t take any photos of that. I know I promised the good, the bad and the ugly. But that was just TOO ugly…
Speaking of photos, sadly I don’t even have many from the lunch. There was an official press photographer there and we were told we’d get all the photos sent to us. I guess by “all” they meant just the ones approved for press release. I’ve requested photos from 3 different people and get the same handful of pictures sent to me, even though the photographer was snapping for 2 hours.
Honestly, I hate the photos anyway. And not just because I’m next to the woman who was just named the second most beautiful reality star. I hate them because, as the lunch progresses, I can see the strained “just smile so no one will know how bad you feel” expression on my face get worse and worse. It probably isn’t apparent to anyone else, because I’ve perfected it pretty well. But I can tell. Hey, the one perfect thing of the day. My perfect fake smile! I mean, the photos are fine. But I didn’t want “fine.” I wanted best-photos-ever. This was supposed to be my Cinderella day. Supposed to be my day to shine. But I was feeling very dull.
I wanted the photos like the day before when we arrived in New York. The day I felt great. Those are real smiles. Those photos are ME. The me that comes and goes now. The me before I became ill. The me that dances Gangnam Style in the middle of time square. The me that smiles. Really smiles.
_____
And now for a glimpse of the happy times I will be writing about on Voli’s blog…
Private dining room!Personal bartender and any Voli vodka drink imaginable!Waiting for Melissa to arrive.Yeah, even the fake smile wasn’t perfect…The arrival. Melissa is a tiny little thing but not sure why I look 6″ taller than JIM in this photo.Believe it or not, she is even more beautiful in person!Funniest moment. Melissa was trying to drink through a stirrer.A toast to the housewives.Can I just add how much I love Melissa for ordering a steak for lunch? And how much I hate her for ordering a steak for lunch…and being able to weigh 100 pounds! 😀
I will let you know the link to Voli’s blog when it is posted (after approval, so may take a while).
Next up here…”NYC Part 3B – They Say The Neon Lights Are Bright”
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Remember my never-made-a-pie-before-confession? (Obviously that included chicken popped pie also.). Well, now I have! Jake brought his grades up and as a reward I did it. I baked a chocolate meringue pie. And not an Oppan Costco Style pie. I didn’t even use instant pudding. And I made meringue too! Aren’t you proud?____________________________________________________
I usually post jokes and less than stellar moments about my children because no one wants to hear about the sweet, well-behaved moments. Those are just boring.
But I have to share this little note I found scribbled in the notebook I keep next to my computer. Very heartfelt for a 13-year-old…
I will keep it handy for the next time he is screaming how much he hates me.
