Put this under "Kids Say the Darndest Things!"

I love being the kind of auntie who spoils her nieces and nephews.  In fact a story that has gone down in family history is the one where I was driving my three year old niece to the mall.  We were going to have a girl’s day of shopping and lunch.  As we were driving and singing to Baby Beluga, I approached a triple set of railroad tracks.  Traffic was light and I was going the posted speed limit of 35, so as I drove over the tracks the car made the requisite “bbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrr……” sound.  I looked over at my niece who was now smiling.  I asked her, “Did you like that?”  She just smiled and said, “Oh…those things tickled my privates!”  I nearly crashed the car!

Well, I recounted this story to her mother  when we got home from our day of shopping and lunching and she just gasped!  My sister asked me, “What did you SAYYYY????”  I just looked at her and said, “Well, I asked her if she wanted me to drive around and we could do it again!”  My sister fainted.   Total over-reaction if you ask me, I'm just sayin'...

Oh! Christmas Tree...

One thing my ex-husband was good for was chopping down the annual Christmas tree, mounting it and hauling the massive thing inside.  When we got divorced the boys were 2 and 5 and I was determined to carry on this tradition, ex-husband be damned.  So, as Christmas approached, I dressed the boys in their finest snow gear and drove them out to Clarks Grove to pick out the family tree.  

The only instruction given at the gate to the tree farm was to make sure “under no circumstance” to cut down trees with yellow X’s on the trunk.  We drove to a spot that looked promising and as we piled out of the truck, I was feeling pretty empowered.  I had an axe and I was gonna get me a tree!  The boys were scattering about looking for what they thought was the perfect tree.  I heard Chris scream, “Mom…this tree is the best!”  I looked over to where he was standing and by golly that tree did look pretty darn good.  In my zeal to prove that I didn’t need a man to bring down a mighty pine, I started to chop away at the trunk.  I was only 1/3 through the trunk when I moved to the opposite side only to see a dreaded yellow X !  Now what? I thought.  I’m going to have to pay a huge amount for taking down a yellow X tree and I’m a single mom!  I can’t afford two trees!  How will I explain to the boys that we will be putting up a plastic Charlie Brown tree from Kmart instead of our mighty pine?  But what else could I do?  I told myself that I would have to chop down the tree, load it into the back of the truck and go to the office and pay for my transgression.  I was NOT looking forward to this. 

As I picked up the axe to finish the job, Mitchell announced that he couldn’t wait any longer…nature was calling.  What was I to do?  I’m in the middle of the tree farm, with a half-cut yellow X tree and a kid whose bladder is busting.  I dropped the axe, walked Mitchell over to the truck and told him to drop his snow pants and take a whiz.  As he was christening the new fallen snow, a HUGE SUV came barreling down the road and pulled over right next to our truck.  As they made their sudden stop, they threw up enough snow to cover Mitchell, and half our truck.  Four people exited the SUV and no apology for what they had just done was forthcoming.  As I stood there in disbelief, I heard the father yell, “Hurry up and find a tree…I need to be on a conference call in five minutes!”  He was waiving his cell phone and pacing the length of the SUV.  As his wife and kids scattered out, I saw his wife approach the yellow X tree.  “Honey…this one is perfect!  It looks like someone wanted it…it’s almost cut through!”  The man took one look at the tree, and yelled, “Cut it down, it’s ours now! !” 

Well, what was I to say?  The guy had a conference call to get to, and his wife was pretty dang handy with that axe!  Besides, I had a two year old to supervise as he tried to write his name in the snow!  Three swings and she had that yellow X tree down on the ground.  Like a finely tuned team of precision soldiers, they had the tree and the kids loaded in the SUV and headed back to the office.  I couldn’t help but smile and wave as they headed off, yelling, “Looks like you got yourself a beauty! ”  

The boys and I found and cut down an appropriate tree and turned to leave.  We had to wait in line for a bit as it appeared there was an intense discussion between the tree farm owners and the guy in the SUV.  I was willing to talk to the owner to let them know I had initiated the first cut on the Yellow X tree, but they waved me through... "Sorry for the wait lady...we have a SITUATION here.  $20 for the tree and you can be on your way."  I took it as a sign from God to pay up and shut up.  Sometimes you just have to let things happen, you know?  I'm just sayin'...

Hey girls...we're goin' to Anguilla...anyone know how to MapQuest?

Wanna know where the Bachelor is?  He's in Anguilla...located in the Caribbean Sea, the northern most island in the Leeward Island chain. I'll bet you never thought you would learn so much about geography while watching this insipid show did you?  I have to say, having never been to the island of Anguilla, it is a visual treat.  Just the place to fall in love, or at least heavy lust, which apparently is what Brad did as Michelle was draped over him in nearly nothing during the photo shoot, but more on that later.

Brad once again is taking all the credit for planning this island getaway and finding the most luscious accommodations anyone could wish for.  That Brad.  He's the whole package isn't he?  The Bachelor and a Travel Planner to boot.  Someone should snag that putz. But I have a bone to pick with Retread... WHEN oh when is he going to realize that we are all in on the fact that this is a reality show and that we all know ABC foots the bill and plans the dates and hires the helicopter and leases the yacht?  We sort of all know that he just shows up and hits his mark and reads from the cue cards.  Just ONCE I want to hear the girls say "Hey...Producer and Director...thanks for the awesome location shoot! Get the Grips and Sound Guys and we will see you at the Lusty Conch Shell tonight for pretzels and fuzzy navels!"  Now THAT would be some reality TV.  Brad could sit back at the hotel and play with his roses and the girls could really have an island getaway!  Just a thought.

So...it begins.  Who will get the one-on-one date today???  Well, it's lucky, plucky Emily the Hometown Girl.  I like Emily.  She looks like an Emily.  She acts like an Emily, which is to say, I know alot of Emily's that I really like, so she's got it goin' on.  So I'm happy for her, but I'll tell ya...if there was a thought bubble above Michelle's head when she heard it was the fair Emily that got the one-on-one it would say, "She swims with the fishes tonight by God."  That chick scares me.

Now I'm wondering at this point, just where is Retread and the Fair One going to go today?  Let me think, could it involve water and a helicopter?  No...that's not very original, Brad's been there, done that.  How about a speed boat to whisk them away to a deserted island?  Well, OK, so Brad got it half right.  Here comes the dang helicopter again which can only mean, get the subtitles and earphones ready.  Well, Brad DID say that he wanted to take their relationship to new heights!  Oh ain't that punny!  Dang Brad, if you really WERE planning these dates I'd have to give you an "A" for originality...NOT.  I've seen so many dang helicopters this season that I think ABC got a season pass from Helicopters 'R Us or something, I mean really...enough with the whirly birds already!

But now the happy couple are dropped off onto their very own private island, which by all standards looks like a sandbar with a hut, but the cue cards say, "Oh my GOSH Brad, a private island??? Really?" so that's what Emily says.  She actually added, "SHUT UP!" after that, which I thought was the most original thought I had heard all season.  Brad is lugging a picnic basket with the requisite champagne in tow and decides to sit on the ONLY seaweed on the sandbar. Yeah, real romantic Brad...get a sand crab up your butt while you sip bubbly...aren't you Rico Suave??  At least Emily was smarter and sat off to the side.  I mean, seriously, it was the only seaweed on the sandbar!  Good lord, he's a putz.  And WHY is Emily's hair going from wet to dry to wet and dry again?  Where is The Donald when you need him?  Editing department? Your fired!

But the date turns serious later that night when Brad asks Emily if he can meet her daughter, Ricky.  But she's torn.  She's not sure he's important enough to meet little Ricky.  Emily is a smart woman.  She's playing Brad like a violin.  Give him just a little...tease him, then tell him no.  That's right Emily, make him sit in the corner and want it!  You go girl!  She does such a great job as master puppeteer that Brad *GASP!!* breaks...the...rules!!  He tells Emily that rules be damned, he's givin' her a rose at the end of the week and they are goin' to Charlotte!  Make some calls Emily, the Putz is comin' to town and he's after your daughter!  OK, that didn't come out right, but we knew what he meant.

But even though he's sworn a rose to Emily, don't think that means the Retread doesn't still have some life in him.  He still has enough lust to make it through another one-on-one with Shawntal N.  They are going to stroll the streets of Anguilla.  I thought this part was really hysterical.  Brad was trying to double dutch and kept stepping on the jump rope and saying, "My bad!"  The locals were scratching there heads and wondering what kind of English classes were taught on the mainland.  My bad.  Good God.  That phrase should be banned from polite conversation.

Shawtal N. however, was enjoying every second of the date, and later at dinner she used the moment to declare that she was sort of, in a way, possibly, pretty sure, last time she checked, amazing as it seemed, might be, in a way, falling in love with him.  Brad squirms in the way that a guy squirms when a girl declares her love for him but he still has a little sand crab  in his swim trunks for the fair Emily.  The date bored me at that point...talk, talk, kiss, kiss...blah, blah, rain storm...amazing!...oh look, impromptu concert with the most famous reggae star on Anguilla.  Is that really saying much for an island that has a population of 20?  
They got back to the hotel somehow...I don't know...I was warming up my pork egg rolls.

OK, what did I miss?  Alas, nothing.  Now we see Brad on a one-to-one with Britt which involves cliff jumping, which you know, is going to end badly.  This date was about as boring to watch as looking at grass grow and the poor Britt was kicked to the shore before she even got to finish her dessert after dinner.  Man, there is nothing worse than that demeaning dinghy ride back to the hotel to pack your bags and go home.  But it just wasn't in the cards for Brad and Britt.  Buh-byeee Britt.

Just when you think you've seen enough, Brad wakes up the girls in the wee hours of the morning and takes them down to the shore for, you guessed it...a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit shoot.  What?  You didn't guess that?  Well, neither did I actually.  But this is going to get interesting because you just know Michelle is going to go after someone with that dagger she keeps under her pillow. 

The girls have found out that they are going to pose in bikinis for a few pages in SI and already Chantal O. is irritated for eating too many of the chocolate covered strawberries at the last cocktail party.  But Ashley is feeling her inner island girl and throws abandon and her bikini top to the wind as she poses with oyster shells over her Twins.  Not to be outdone, Chantal O. frolics in the sand and surf and her Twins go for dip.  Michelle of course, take the high road and insists that she doesn't de-frock for just anyone.  Besides, it would give away the silicone secret she has been so zealously guarding all season.  No, instead, she is going to rub all over Brad in a cheesy remake of "From Here to Eternity" and Brad once again finds out what it's like to have a sand crab in your swim trunks.

The girls are not happy.  The photo shoot did not go as planned with Michelle trying to mate in the breakers, and Brad being the wimp that he was, not doing anything to stop it.  No, our putz Brad did a naughty and he's going to have to get this train wreck back on the tracks.  But how to do that?  Clueless as he is, Retread has no idea, but he thinks he can get at least one girl on his side with a rose.  Ashley is the lucky recipient and Michelle and Chantal O. are left to plot Putz's demise.

Back at the hotel, it's cocktail and rose ceremony time.  In an uncharacteristic show of spine, Brad decides to break the rules once again and forgo the cocktail hour and cut right to the chase.  He knows who he wants to go on hometown dates with and the rules be damned!!!  So, the girls are told to head to the beach for the beheading.  I mean, rose ceremony.  Shawtal N. thinks she's in trouble and heading home.  Chantal O. is sure she's in trouble.  Michelle knows she's not going anywhere because she has Brad's chingadingas in a jar by her bed, so she's good to go.  That leaves Emily, but she knows she's getting a rose, so...oh my gosh...the intrigue...who will get the axe???  As the tension builds, and Brad hands out the roses one by one, we are down to Michelle and Chantal O.  OM Gosh, I'm actually a bit...interested.  Could it be?  Could Brad actually consider cutting the psycho Michelle??  No...can't be!  But wait...!!!  Here it comes...and...and...AND...YES!!!!  Yes!!  YES!!  He gives the rose to Chantal O. !!!!  Michelle is GONE!  Drop kicked, punted, fogetabout it...GONE!  And I couldn't be happier.  As Brad walks Michelle to the car she refuses to speak to him.  She gets into the limo and promptly slumps over into a lump of defeated humanity and for the next blessed 30 seconds, cat's got Michelle's tongue.  For the record...she blinked 27 times.  I counted.  And life just got a little better on the Bachelor.  Brad's putz-o-meter is settling down.  I could be warming up to this guy.  Or not.  I'm just sayin'...

See ya next week!



















 

On The Bachelor, what happens in Vegas, really SHOULD stay in Vegas!

So...now Brad the Recycled Bachelor is heading off to Sin City!  How exciting for him!  The girls are pretty stoked too!  They get to see Brad kiss and climb over girl after girl AND get free drinks while they gamble with ABC's money.  That is so...no let me say it...AMAZING!

So they arrive at the hotel and Brad meets them in the Rugburn Suite.  And they are SO impressed!  Why shouldn't they be?  It's the Penthouse Suite.  Note to girls...the farther up you go in the elevator the cooler the rooms get!  Really! And here is our Hospitality Director Brad telling them that this is ALL THEIRS!  Well, at least until filming is over girls.  Don't get too excited.  But seeing the girls happy makes Brad happy and when Brad is happy the world is happy. And if that isn't enough, Brad's cup really runneth over because he tells every girl in the room that they will be getting a date with him.  I'm lost...isn't that what this show is all about?  Where is the newsflash there?  Ok, I'll keep watching.  This is bound to make sense sooner or later.

So looks like Shawntel N. is getting a "One on One" with Brad, which I have surmised by now means a date and not a basketball game.  Brad mysteriously indicates that this date is going to end with "a bang."  Hope Shawntel is luckier than Jimmy Hoffa..his date ended with a bang too I believe, but you know...what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

So off we go to explore the gluttenous riches of Sin City with Brad and lucky "One on One" winner, Shawntal.  First stop, the most...wait for it...AMAZING...shopping mall in the world and it has ICEBERGS!  Boy Shawntal, you ain't in Chico anymore!  These here are real live fake icebergs...be impressed.  As she looks around and tries to begin pronouncing the names of the shops, Brad tells Shawntal that she gets to go into any shop and buy to her hearts content.  She is so darn excited, I'm waiting for her to pull out an inhaler, but the real humorous part of this is how Brad is reacting.  I mean, I realize that nothing says love like retail therapy, but dude, this is on someone elses dime, remember?  So what makes you the tall cowboy in the saddle?  You aren't even signing the Visa bills.  I don't think he's bright enough to realize that this is a reality show and he turns back into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight.  Poor, poor Brad, I'm beginning to really feel bad for this guy.  Ok, no I'm not, he's still a putz.

As they go from store to store, I'm getting antsier and antsier...at one point, I am screaming at the TV!!!  Grab that Visa honey, ditch the dude, shop till you drop and put four tickets for you and your BFF's to Paris on that card before the ABC execs shut you down!!!  Go!!!  NOW!!!! 

But alas, it is not to be.  Instead, I get to listen to Shawntal drone on about how "natural" she feels holding Brad's hand, strolling through the mall, while a camera crew follows closely behind.  I get it!  That would be totally natural for me too.  Wow...see?  I'm starting to get it.  No I'm not.  I'm lying, Brad is still a putz.

So now Shawtal gets to head back to the herd to display her kill to the waiting lionesses.  They quickly disembowel her and take her loot to the cave.  Wait, that's National Geographic.  I get confused sometimes, because the mating game on this show is so similar to the mating that goes on in the wild.  Now, where was I?

Oh yeah...Shawntal is now walking through the door to the Rugburn Suite where all the jealous girls have assembled.  She is thoroughly pissing Michelle off because she has the shoes and dress that Michelle wanted.  Well, I would tell Michelle to build a bridge and get the heck over it, but she would probably put a hit out on me, so I better shut my mouth.  Did I mention that Brad is a putz?

Fast forward to the end of this "One-on-One" date which entails dinner on the top of the hotel.  We have to drag ourselves through fifty more uses for the word AMAZING!  The dinner is AMAZING, the city lights are AMAZING, the fireworks are AMAZING, look at my new bra Brad, isn't it ...ok, you get the idea.  All I know is that this part of  The Bachelor is over, I only have to blog one more hour and THAT my friends, is AMAZING!

So now after a few minutes of fast forwarding on my DVR, were apparently Brad and his two loves were flying high in some kind of a Cirque de Soleil meets Elvis performance, and where Brad kisses one lady goodbye forever, we are now heading over to the NASCAR racetrack.  And why a racetrack you ask?  Oh please...one word...ratings.  Let me explain...

Emily (who everyone loves from what I hear and I have to admit, has a certain "girl next door" charm about her) is the odds on favorite to steal Brad's heart during the second hour of this show.  I pop a bowl of popcorn, sip some sugar-free Crystal Light, and balance my checkbook while I watch the drama unfold.  Apparently, there is a reason we are at the racetrack.  See, Emily had this fiance named Ricky.  And, well, Ricky was a...wait for it...a NASCAR driver..who dies in a plane crash, on the way to a...wait for it...NASCAR race!!!  Oh, come on now!!  I KNOW you didn't see that one coming did you?  I mean, what are the chances that the producers would decide to strap a bunch of clueless drama queens into some speeding race cars and send them careening around the oval without some sort of huge payoff?  Call me cynical, but I feel a setup comin' on.  And wouldn't you know it...Brad just KNOWS that something is bothering Emily.  Of course, he pretty tapped into his feminine side, so being the prince that he is, he goes to get the 411 on the situation.

"Emily,  I saw your face and I knew something was wrong..."  That's reality show speak for cue the music...cue the sweet Emily...and let's get the audience boo-hooing.  Well, I'll tell ya...I feel for her.  Her story really is tragic and that is the FIRST real emotion I've had (well, if you don't count revulsion) since watching this show.  But how dense do the producers think we are when Brad reacts to her story and says he had NO idea, and he feels TERRIBLE, but apparently, not too terrible because he still let the producers put her behind the wheel of a race car.  Shame on you Brad.  But darn it all, that plucky Emily...you gotta hand it to this girl...she took two laps for Ricky, one lap for her and now she's ready to find love!  You GO girl!  No...I mean, you should really GO girl...to another show, another network, anywhere but The Bachelor, cuz honey, you are too normal.  Which leads me to the strangest scenes of the night which involved the least normal of the dames...you guessed it...Michelle. 

This chick is great at whipping all the other girls into a frenzy and after whining non-stop about how the day ended up being the "Emily day" Michelle decides she's had enough.  She doesn't want Brad to talk to the other girls so she takes him into...no let me rephrase that...she drags Brad into an adjoining room, slams him into a chair and jumps on his lap.  Oh, this is just going to end badly I think.  "From here on out...no talking." she says.  Her eyebrows are looking really scary.  How do chicks do that?  I can't make my eyebrows do that.  I tried.  I just look constepated.  Oh well, I digress.  Anyway, I'm waiting for Brad to knee her in the crotch and throw her off his lap and declare his love for the sweet Emily, but NO...he stares at her like a love-sick puppy and wipes the drool off his chin with his tie.  Pa-thet-ic. 

"You have some really big decisions to make," she continues as she lovingly (?) strokes the side of his face "...and I think you need someone who appreciates you.  So while you think tonight about your big decisions...kiss, kiss,stroke...who you are going to...kiss, kiss, stroke...terminate...kiss, kiss...I want you to remember...kiss, kiss...I sleep with a dager under my pillow. Now, let's go send some girls home." 

Now I KNOW this chick will be around at the end, you know why?  Because by the season finale, we will all hate Michelle so much that we will tune in to see her get her comeupance, and ABC will score a ratings bonanza.  But in the end, I predict Brad will send the evil Michelle to the limo and propose to the fair Miss Emily.  But don't feel too bad for Michelle.  Chicks like her take advantage of their 15 seconds of fame.  She will pop up on an episode of "Wipeout" wherein the tables will be turned and the big balls will kick HER butt for a change.  Probably a good thing.  That girl needs a good butt whoopin.  Too bad Brad couldn't do it, but he's a putz. I'm just sayin'...!

See ya next week!

Mondays are bad enough, but now...it's another season of The Bachelor!

Ok, I'll admit it...I watch The Bachelor very seldom and when I do I usually only watch the finale because quite honestly, isn't that the only thing worth watching?  I mean, how many times can you watch a couple load into a helicopter and wax poetic about how gorgeous the surroundings are?  Seen one helicopter scene, seen them all.  Say that three times fast.  But this season promises to have surprises galore as we watch the adventures of Brad the Recycled Bachelor.  How exciting.  Kind of like waxing my upper lip.  Only that would actually be more fun.  But anyway...I've decided this is blogger gold, so I'm going to follow the adventures of our clueless, lovelorn bachelor.  Heck, Brad's already gotten slapped in the kisser, so let's get this party started!

In this episode, Chantal gets a "one-on-one" date with Brad.  What the heck did she do in her previous life to deserve that?  Oh wait...that's a good thing, right?  A one-on-one with Brad is a good thing?  Ok, I'm still learning here people, cut me some slack.

So, shock of all shocks...how do they get to their fairy-tale first date but by...wait for it... yeah, you guessed it...a helicopter.  Good Lord.  Kill me now.  We are only 15 minutes in.  But this is suppose to be romantic, people, so I'll just play their silly game and listen in.  Chantal is excited that they are going "on an amazing date, with an amazing guy" (obviously, Chantal attended One Adjective High) and she's scared to death because this date could "change her life forever."  Note to Chantal...talk about a life changer...wait until you use Scrubbing Bubbles for the first time.  It's true...they DO work harder, so you don't have to.

As the happy couple land at Catalina Island, Brad surprises Chantal with the notion that on this island...which is surrounded by...water...because that is what makes it an...island... that they will be going into....the water!!  Big surprise for Chantal!!  Imagine her horror as she looks down at her fake floatation devices and realizes that she will be bobbing and weaving more than a drunken prize fighter.   At this point, Brad faces the camera and exclaims, "I have been waiting to take Chantal O. on a date..."  WAIT!  Are the producers trying to pull a fast one on me?  How many Chantal's are there in this wacko episode?  I better go check my Bachelor Cliff Notes.

So back to Bobber... Now these two love-birds are skipping along the ocean floor and doesn't Brad look so darn handsome with the kelp wrapped around his heavenly ripped thighs?  I have to admit, that little unitard he is wearing is doing nothing for me, but Chantal is fogging up her 50 lb. helmet.  Now she's crying and wishing her long-wearing mascara was waterproof 'cuz this whole thing is freaking her out man!  As she says,"My biggest fear is that I'm going to go down there, and I'm never going to come up."  Well, Chantal honey, we can only hope, yes, we can only hope.  Hey, come on now, don't call me insensitive, think of the rose that would be saved.

So, after the date, we are back at Psycho Central and now some chick named Michelle with a black eye is looking cynically into the camera and exclaiming, "There is a good chance that if I don't get a date this week, that Brad will be getting his own black eye."  Oh now ya went and did it Michelle.  You've stirred up all those loving' feelings in every penitentiary in the country and prisoners everywhere are ripping down their Farah Fawcett posters in the hopes you will be shooting a swimsuit calendar soon.  Didn't your momma ever teach you that you NEVER make a threat on national television to beat up a potential boyfriend unless you want prison penpals for the rest of your life?  Geez...who's pre-screening these girls?

Now, after enduring Chantal and now Michelle, I feel like I need to take a shower to get this sticky gooey off of me.  But no...shows not over.  What?  This can't be!  We are only 24 minutes in?  I'm never gonna make it.  No seriously, I have a bladder the size of a pea, so I'm never gonna make it.  I'm not going to put it on pause because I really don't think I'll miss that much.

I was right.  This episode is longer than War and Peace.  In the interest of time, let me recap with the shorthand version from here on in...

Girls in the hot tub hate Ashley H. 
Ashley H. secretly plots to drown all girls wearing neon green bikinis in the hot tub.
Brad is sucking off the nose and chin of some girl who sadly, is named Britt.
Ashley H. interrupts sucking session and secretly plots to kill girl who sadly, is named Britt.
Michelle has sudden elbow spasm that looks oddly like a threat of bodily harm to Ashley H.
Brad joins girls in hot tub.  Girls whine, snivel and moan to Brad and I believe Ashley H. peed in the bubbles.
Brad leaves the hot tub and gets clingy with Alli on the couch.  Love fest is interrupted by Minnie Mouse AKA Ashley (apparently with no last initial, so as not to confuse the viewers)
...who is then interrupted by heck, I don't know...I can't keep up.  These girls are coming at Brad faster than a wedding dress hits the ground in the Honeymoon suite.
All I know is there are four girls left bitching in the hot tub and Snooky isn't one of them.

So, I'm worn out and I'm only 40 minutes into the show.  I need a break.  Let's continue this party in few days, ok?  I have a helicopter to catch.
Ta-ta for now!

No, Mom...single is not the new pathetic!

So I am single, by choice, and totally committed to staying that way.  For some reason it works for me.  I've been in many a relationship, but I always end up weighing the pluses and minuses and it seems like going to bed early on Friday nights, or sitting in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn and a stack of chick flicks just trumps having to put on jeans, heels, doing my makeup and going to a restaurant to eat too much food and pay too much money for the privilege.  Call me crazy, but sucking it in for four hours just makes me cranky. 

And don't get me started about going to a bar.  Just being in a bar gets my bitch-o-meter amped up.  I have little or no tolerance for the mating game that is played out every Friday night.  We all know about the skinny chicks that circle the perimeter of the bar like a lion stalks its prey, picking out the sorry sucker that's going to be duped into buying their drinks all night. These girls are masters at their craft and while they are entertaining to watch, once they've caught their prey it's like watching a documentary.  If I'm going to watch someone get disemboweled, I would rather watch it on Grey's Anatomy and learn something while I'm vegetating.

And God forbid, that bar has a Karaoke.  My cousins like to call it Krokey, like a frog.  Maybe that is because most people sound like frogs when they sing on that thing, I'm not sure.  But please, any of you who consider yourselves Karaoke experts, why does the most tone deaf, drunk, irritating and smelly man in the bar have to sing the longest song ever written by man... "In the Garden of Eden" by Iron Butterfly, or as it is better known by drunks everywhere..."Ina-godda-da-vida babyyyyyyy....*hiccup*"  Please, can I rip off my nail beds now? Maybe you have some battery acid I could gulp down? 

I have so many stories of why couple status doesn't appeal to me.  These stories usually involve really bad personal hygiene (HIM! Not me...what are you thinkin'?)  Lack of intelligent conversation (again, HIM not me...) or trying to escape his dog who wants to hump my leg.  It is all so creepy I throw up in my mouth a little bit when I think about it.  I'm surprised this doesn't come up more in therapy, but then again, my therapist has booked me through 2015, so maybe we will be touching on this at some time.

All I know is that for now, and now can mean anything from a nanosecond to a millennium, I am happy flying solo.  I don't have to ask anybody to approve my budget.  I don't have to fight about how the toilet paper should go on the roll.  Like I would lose that fight!  Jeez...I don't know a man alive that PUTS the dang toilet paper on the roll.  Seriously?  What is the challenge?  I mean it takes about four seconds, involves roughly two muscle groups and almost zero intelligence...still, you would think I asked them to figure out a dang Rubik's cube.  I don't get it...they say we evolved from apes, but even apes can put a toilet paper roll on the holder!  I know...I've seen it on America's Funniest Videos.

Another thing that is great about being single is that I don't have to go to my committee of one to approve color choices for the kitchen walls, and I don't have to explain why I have twenty magazine subscriptions.  OK, some of them admittedly are duplicates, but I'm sure I helped some child win a crappy prize in their schools magazine drive.  So I have four tubes of the same shade of lipstick.  Arrest me.  And I guess the world is going to end because I like sea salt and hand made soap in my bubble bath?  Who invited you anyway?  So you see, single appeals to me because obviously, the only men who are dating right now are all critics.

I think that the best thing about being single is that I win all my arguments with myself, and if I ask myself if my butt looks big in my jeans, I always get the same response...What butt? You don't even have a butt girlfriend! You need to eat more!  Where are those animal crackers and this time, eat the hippos!!!  It's a great way to live, I'm just sayin'...

It is NOT a diet pill, it's the magical weight loss discovery of the century!

So I was up at two in the morning watching infomercials when along came a commercial for the magical weight loss discovery of the century!  It sounded intriguing, because I mean, this is the discovery of the century and not the decade or year, so that’s big stuff.  I thought as long as it was legal, well, why not try it?  I mean, I’m always up for going down on the scale!  I do need to say at this point that I don’t drink coffee, and I drink very little soda.  I am what you would call “hypersensitive” to caffeine.  Just thinking about caffeine gives me jitters.  Just saying the word “caffeine” dilates my pupils.  So you get the idea that caffeine amps me up a tad, right? 

None of the tiny print on the bottles I received mentioned feeling jittery but then again, my command of the Chinese language is limited.  I didn’t see any little characters that looked like the words “caffeine,” “speed” or “crystal meth" so I figured, this guinea pig is ready for duty Master Sergeant! 

8:00 a.m. – I took my magical weight loss discovery with a piece of toast and peanut butter.  I hope that I read it right.  My understanding of Chinese writing is limited to Won Ton, General Chow's Chicken, and Moo Goo something or other.  I could call the girl that does my nails, but I don’t think I could read the directions to her without sounding like I was choking, and besides, I think she’s Vietnamese.    So, I’ll just make it up.

9:00 – So far, so good.  No big amp up.  No big appetite either.  So maybe this pill is doing something!  I'll think about that a bit more, but first, I need to go attend to that whining cookie jar in the kitchen.  I’ll be back. 

9:15 – Wow!  Maybe there is something to this amazing discovery of the century!  I only ate half a dozen animal crackers!  It’s better than downing a dozen of those monsters right?  I mean, really, if you think about it, as long as you eat the smaller animal crackers like the turtle and the horse instead of the hippo, you are probably saving calories, right?  I wonder what I could save in calories if I scrape off the little candy balls that are sprinkled on top?  Does white icing have more calories than the pink?  Am I getting obsessive?  Am I asking myself a lot of questions?  How would I know?

9:45 – I need to clean my desk drawer.  And my office looks like an IED went off in the filing cabinets.  Paper and files and curriculum everywhere!!  And wouldn’t it be really productive if I opened all the reams of paper at one time?  How much time does my staff spend taking wrappers off photocopy paper anyway??  Let’s see…are all the light bulbs working?  Look at the dust on those extension cords!  And look at that impressive collection of Asian beetle carcasses in the corner of the windows!  Have I been living in a cave??  Lord, I never knew this, but I am an obvious hoarder!

10:45 – I’m afraid to go into the staff bathroom, but I think it is going to have to be done.

10:46 – It’s worse than I thought.  I’ll be busy for awhile. 

11:50 – After a cursory inspection, I need to put together a list of things I need from the hardware store.  Let’s see, toilet, sink, mirrors, paper towel dispenser, vinyl floor covering, drywall, paint.  That should cover it.  I don’t know how I have been subjecting myself or my staff to that bathroom, but it just needs to stop before someone files a Worker’s Comp claim.

Noon – Time to eat, but surprisingly, all I really want to eat is this little yellow lemon head that I found under my desk.  That should hold off the really bad cravings until afternoon.

12:30 – The staff are enjoying their sloppy joe’s and cole slaw.  I am chewing on my favorite paper clip.  It’s weird in an existential sort of way that I am happy chewing metal, and it’s even weirder that I’m thinking about words like existential.

1:45 – Time to pick up the Kindergarten kids.  I jump into my car, which this morning looked spic and span, but I just noticed that there is a haze on the windshield that needs to be addressed right now or I might cause an accident.  I get out the Windex and magic fiber cloth that I keep in the trunk and it is then I realize that there are water spots on this entire car!  How much time will it take to give the car a quick wax job?  What will I tell the teacher?  Maybe she would believe I had a mechanical failure if I rub some dirt on my face and mess my hair up just a bit.  Oh wait…what happened to my hair?  I was having a good hair day a few hours ago…where is my hair spray???

2:05 – I got in trouble.  I mean, what is worse than having your head chewed off by a teacher when you are clearly NOT a Kindergartner?  She wasn’t the least bit sympathetic to my dirt stained cheeks, and my flimsy story, but I think she had an attitude anyway because my hair clearly looked nicer than hers.  I realize teachers are underpaid, but they really need to quit taking that out on innocent citizens. 

2:10 – On the way from the Nazi prison they call a Kindergarten Center, I put down the windows and crank the tunes.  Singing at the top of my lungs is aerobic, and I find that I am totally sympathetic to that guy who rides all over town on his Schwinn bike collecting cans, when yesterday I almost ran him over and called him a four letter word.  This miracle pill could be a great help in bringing about world peace.  Leo thinks something has gotten into Miss Lynn and he doesn’t know if he should sit still, or bolt at the next available stop sign.  I tell him that the only reason I’m laughing out loud and talking to myself for no apparent reason is that the little helper Miss Lynn took this morning is obviously time-released!! Oh happy days!!

3:-45 – Time for another paper clip.

5:00 – I’m hungry and I will eat anything that isn’t nailed down.  Once I arrive home, I reach for the box of Oreo’s and pop them into my mouth without the least hesitation as to whether I should eat the cream-filled middles first or not.  Those are closely followed by Cheese-Its.  Interesting, I never knew the combination could sort of taste like a vanilla fudge sundae that has like a cheese topping!

6:00 – The family has eaten dinner and I took perverse delight in sitting at the table and watching them all eat.  They wonder if I’ve lost my mind.  Have I?  How would I know?  Does this stuff make me paranoid?  If I am, would I know I was paranoid, or would I just have a suspicion?  I think I need to go journal or make an appointment with my mental health professional.

9:00 -   I’m not certain, but I think this little magic discovery of the century is my new lover.  I just finished weeding all the gardens, mowing the lawn, re-arranging the garage, making a dump run, fixing the siding, caulking the windows and insulating the hoses on the A/C unit.  I would have done more but the dang Sun is such a slacker.  It had to go hang out on the other side of the world or something like that. 

I can’t wait to see what is on my to-do list for tomorrow!  I got so much done and I hardly ate enough to keep a bug alive.  Let’s recap…toast with peanut butter, animal crackers, paper clips, a Lemon Head, oreo’s, cheese its.  Sounds like a totally balanced diet, doesn’t it?  I’m thinking they should market this stuff…oh, wait, they do…to idiots like me!!!! I’m just sayin’…