Blog

A couple days ago I got hit on in the “Self-Help” section at Barnes and Noble. The guy pretended to be looking at books, ironically concerning addiction (probably sex) when he said “Haven’t I seen you here before?” Oh My God. Really? “Probably. I spend a LOT of time in the SELF-HELP section.” He laughed. I ignored. He continued “Maybe it was match.com then?” Oh My God, this is still happening. “Not unless one of my friends signed me up in a sordid attempt at being funny.” (And listed my preferences as old men with lisps and the teeth of a British aristocrat). He laughed again. “Would you like to go get a drink sometime?” Yep, still happening. “Oh, I am married to someone 11 years older than me. I have like maaaaajor daddy issues and he would probably say I cannot date you, but I can call him if you want. It is my time to check in anyway to see if he still loves me.” Poof, gone. ... Continue reading »

Because I pride myself on being a relatively decent friend, I made a courtesy phone call to my friend Margie B. and asked her if she would have an issue if I showed her husband my rack. She said considering the circumstances she thought it would be a good idea. Annnnnnd, this is what has to happen when you are good friends with your family physician and his wife. Personally, I feel slightly embarrassed handing over my urine for a yearly physical. My husband on the other hand, has no issue having his prostate checked by Dr. B on a Wednesday and then having dinner with them on Friday. Um, gross. Helll-looo. His friend does things to him that I would not even consider. Men are sick. ... Continue reading »

I have decided I need to start wearing one of those electronic 911 alerting medical bracelets like my grandma does. This would not be necessary if I had a husband that offered some form of assistance when I am clearly choking on a lentil. Yep, you read that right. I almost D-I-E-D and Mike literally sat there watching me cough, tears streaming down my face, gasping for my final breaths. Finally, I exorcised the little fucker. ... Continue reading »

My friend, Whitney, has a stomach that underwent a superpower mutation following the Chernobyl disaster in 1986. The girl can eat ANYTHING and not get sick. Rancid meat, expired milk, furry yogurt, etc. etc., it does absolutely nothing to upset her Teflon intestines. A few weeks ago I got food poisoning that made me so deliriously ill, I found myself stumbling toward table lamps trying to follow the light and find Jesus. I am fairly certain I vomited up one of my kidneys and a couple vertebrae. Now in contrast, if Whitney had consumed the same exact quantity of bacteria that I did, she would have maybe hiccupped and gone shoe shopping.

Anyway, the other night we had dinner and because people like to tell me everything, she divulged some information that was so spectacular I had to sit down on the curb in order to breathe afterward because I was laughing that hard. I had mascara running down my face and snot pouring out my nose and my body was racked with hysterical convulsions that made me piss myself countless times despite my c-sections, as I recounted what I have coined “The Legend” over and over again in my mind. And while I am indeed easily amused; I am rarely shocked by human behavior, until now. ... Continue reading »

Recently my computer dork friend came over to assist me with my computer issues. From the moment we met our relationship has consisted of a steady diatribe of loving insults and genuine distrust. One time he came over and showed me how he hooked up a camera to a remote controlled robot in his house to spy on his wife. I told him if he made Mike one of those creepy fuckers, I was going to put it behind my back tire and throw my car in reverse. He also has cameras all over the outside of his house that he can check at any given time from various locations. I can only assume that this is to dissuade his wife from attempting to leave the premises. ... Continue reading »

Years ago I begged Mike to buy me an enormous Christmas tree that makes the one in Rockefeller Center look like a mere sapling. He reluctantly conceded. I was elated. Now every single year I laugh hysterically when he brings my big baby up from the basement grunting and spewing forth a stream of un-holy expletives until he reaches his titillating crescendo of “Next year we are becoming Jewish God**&^it!” I am totally going to buy the world’s biggest Menorah just to be funny if we ever do convert. ... Continue reading »

All political talk shows should be on Comedy Central. They kill me. There is positively NOTHING funnier than watching a bunch of old white guys short-circuiting their pacemakers while discussing the national deficit. I bet television networks are required to obtain a separate insurance policy prior to the appearance of a guest commentator just in case the guy’s nervous, statistical dropping energy randomly combusts into a pile of shooting flames right in front of Bill O’Reilly who never even notices because he was too busy interrupting himself. Read on. ... Continue reading »

Yippppeeee! Tomorrow is marital counseling day! I love marital counseling day. It is the day that Mike and I go sit awkwardly on a couch and discuss the things that annoy us about each other so we don’t get divorced. For instance, I recently learned it bugs the living shit out of Mike that I am not strict about the girls’ bed times because it infringes on our “alone time”. I am making a conscious effort to think about working on this. On the other hand, I was able to communicate to Mike that it makes me want to punch him in the head when he chews next to me and that I know exactly how many bites it takes for him to masticate a carrot over my head when I am trying to write. But one of my favorite parts of therapy is remembering the things we actually like about each other! For instance, I happen to fall in love with Mike all over again whenever we are at an airport because it reminds me of the time he ran over a dead bird with my suitcase. ... Continue reading »

Following the birth of my oldest daughter I learned I could no longer take birth control pills since they posed a potential health risk due to blood clotting abnormality. I carry the recessive gene of this disorder which means that I am unlikely to ever suffer any consequence of this affliction with the exception of not being able to take medication that contains synthetic hormones. At the time this fascinating information was brought to my attention, I had not yet met my reproductive quota but was not quite ready to pop out another one. My loving husband said condoms took away from the experience. I told him so did pregnant wives. He whined. I caved. I talked to my gyno. He suggested a diaphragm. I said okay. ... Continue reading »

Prefix: Following the birth of my first child, Mike had a near-death experience. In an attempt to help me see the light, he informed me that I “was lucky that I got to stay home all day” and that he ”wished he could be a stay-at-home dad”. Fast forward to 2011: I still recall this intrepid statement every Monday morning as I watch him skip merrily out the door to go to work and forget he has a family for 9 solid hours. Interesting. ... Continue reading »