Lemonette

Anyone can get famous on the Internet when they are themselves, in my opinion. I came across Lemonette, a vlogger, video blogger, several weeks ago. She vlogs in her car on her way to and from work.

She is hip. She Tweets, has a MySpace page and her own channel on YouTube.

What's more is I just love what she says in this video about relationships, although it is three minutes too long. In this video, she talks about the perfect relationship. The wisdom she conveys in this vlog is right on and wise.

Lemonette says the key to a lasting relationship is FORGIVENESS. Wow! She also says there is no perfect relationship, but rather the perfect relationship for you.

How true. Now thanks to Lemonette, everyone can be in the perfect relationship for them, not some fairy tale fantasy, which in my opinion leads many to divorce because they married for the wrong reasons in the first place. Some of the reasons include, I can change him/her and/or I can change for him/her. Wrong. Wrong.

I may not become an avid follower of Lemonette. But I will go back to this video from time to time as a reminder and refresher course in relationships. Forgiveness is simple, but frequently forgotten.

Shoplifting at an All Time High

I've been reading articles that shoplifting has been especially bad this holiday season because of the poor shape of the economy. Although after dining in Pebble Beach a few nights ago, I can attest there are plenty of rich people alive and spending.

15 billion minus 7 billion = 8 billion.

However, regular Joes, such as Joe the Dog featured in this video, are obviously struggling. I read one sad story in the NY Times about a guy shoplifting some sleeping pills because he was a dollar short.

$1!

Now he's being prosecuted. Sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me.

Dude!

Anyone who has ever had a conversation with me regarding surfing, but doesn't surf themselves, probably thought I sounded just like the guy in the video. And probably regretted bringing up the topic of surfing with me in the first place.

The thing about people who say they surf, is this. A person's surfing skill level cannot be measured by their words. As I watch the video of Surfer Guy, as I'm laughing, I'm also wondering can that guy even surf? Or is he just buoy, someone who sits in the lineup catching few if any waves at all.

Even when Ms. Jennifer Nettles claimed in an interview, "oh but I do surf." I was like what? A few surfing lessons and a video of someone barely getting to their feet on a longboard, hardly a surfer makes. Excuse me, one moment, I need to go shove my surf snob in the closet.

Okay, I'm back, I think.

I used to get that all the time. Anytime, I walked into a surf shop where I didn't know anyone, it was assumed by the snobby surf shop employees, typically guys, that I didn't surf. They thought I was tagging along with my boyfriend. Once they realized I surfed, they assumed I was a buoy or worse someone who got in their way. Surfers refer to the type of surfer that can't surf, as a Barney or a kook.

But that was a long time ago. When there weren't many professional female surfers, at least, they weren't visible in the magazines, like they are today. And there weren't many female surfers in the line up in those days either.

While I used to be the only surfer girl in the water, often times now there are four or five us. It's nice to have more estrogen in the water. We tend to smile. Laugh and have fun. Twenty years ago I would have never thought I would have girl friends, who surf. Wow, that is some sort of major miracle of Goddess.

Some girls are super competitive, maybe because they feel like they have something to prove to everyone. And some guys think the girls are jealous of each other and say things like, "wow that new girl is taking over your spot."

But I have never felt that way. Nor have I understood why someone would even think it, but I suppose guys must worry about that a lot. They worry about someone being better than them. Guys are very competitive. I think that's what makes them get better at surfing, anyways.

Let's face it there is always someone better than I am. Until the day I surf like Kellya(not a typo, just how Vinny used to say his name) Slater I'm not surfing the best. But I try not to compare myself to other people, male or female. When I surf I focus on breathing and being in the moment, rather than people.

Although a great surfer might inspire me to surf better and charge harder. But that person is never the super aggro grumpy great surfer, hogging all the waves. It is often and frequently the happiest person in the line up who inspires me.

And here is one my favorite most inspiring friend who surfs. Wow, a friend that surfs, amazing.

"Tale of Despereaux"

We just finished watching the movie, "The Tale of Despereaux."

I had never heard of it before today, but it's based on a book by Kate Dicamillo, so I asked Vinny about it.

"Have you read, "The Tale of Despereaux?" I ask him.

"No, but it's a movie, too," Vinny answers.

"Yeah, I know. What do you think it's rated?" I ask.

"It must be rated PG because in the preview he is holding a needle for a sword. So it must be violent if he has a sword."

"Let's check," I say. We looked it up and to our excitement it was rated G.

"Hey, we can watch it!" I say. After all, G rated movies don't come out everyday. Or very often for that matter.

Anyways, we watched "Tale of Despereaux ," and it's a cute little movie for little people that adults can appreciate, too. Despereaux the mouse stars as the hero. A mouse who is banished for being too brave, for reading and for talking to people. We all know how dangerous talking to people can be, especially for a mouse.

A mouse who never gives up in the face of adversity and stays true to his word, and more importantly he stays true to his character. He is courageous, trustworthy and noble even when no one else around him is.

The narrator in the movie mentions in fairy tales the hero shows up when the world really needs a hero most. I couldn't help but think of President Elect Obama. Yes, right about now the world could use a hero. A hero to inspire all of us to greatness because that is what it's going to take.

But my favorite part of the movie was the part about forgiveness. How one act of forgiveness can change everything. Maybe even the world.

I asked Gio what he thought of the movie and he said, "He's so good saving the day from the bad guys."

"BARK, BARK, BARK!"

For Christmas this year we went to my cousin's house.

"I'm not sleeping here," says Gio immediately referring to how we usually dump the kids off and flee for our sanity. Sometimes even for a few nights.

"Why?" I ask concerned for the life of our infrequent desperately needed escapades away from our kids.

"Because her dog is always yelling," he says. "BARK, BARK, BARK!" he explains.

My cousin had another dog, Shannon, for years, who if I described her as the best dog in the world ever, would be an understatement tantamount to calling Mount Everest a hill.

The kicker is Shannon the Better than the Most Perfect Dog in the World Could Ever Hope To Be, never even came in the house. No. She sat right outside the kitchen door in the laundry room, her living and sleeping quarters, watching her people with contentment.

My cousin likes a nice neat and tidy house. In fact, we think she got all the clean and tidy genes for the entire family. Or that she was switched in the hospital at birth. In one morning she achieves more than I ever will in my entire life.

So it's ironic that the new dog, a lap dog I should say, owns the house and my cousin.

My cousin also has a cat, but we didn't see her very much, because she is not the favorite child. The favorite child is the yelling dog. Even if the cat thought about trying to work her way up the love pole, the dog would knock her off, literally. He is a very jealous, yelling dog.

Although I think the cat is plotting her revenge because every time anyone gets near the cat she "hisses and pops." She got my husband, first. She was hidden in the bathroom as he was about to sit down on the porcelain throne when he heard her menacing hissing and popping, pulled up his pants, and ran for his life.

She's a pretty cat. Maybe she sensed my husband's dogness, so I gave her another chance, which was met by hissing, but no popping.

"She just hisses," my cousin assures me. But when I reached in to pet her, her paw reached out swatting. I immediately knew my cousin was living in a place, I refer to as, "Da Nial." Yes, I frequent that place too. Don't all parents?

Next day, Vinny asks, "Mommy are you going to put the butt attack video on the blog?"

"Well, I don't know", I say. "Oh yeah, I guess."

Just so you know, right before I started filming my cousin's cat and dog, the cat was sleeping peacefully on the bed. The same bed, as I recall, my cousin used to instruct us, "not to lay on during the day because the bed will get messed up." The same bed the cat and dog now play on.

Glad her cat and dog got her over that issue. Kids do that for parents, get them over issues. Unfortunately, they also wake us up, like shrieking alarm clocks, to new issues we didn't even know we had, like insomnia. Oh well, guess I sort of knew about that one. But I had no idea about my extreme aversion to shrieking, screaming and squawking.

Although I have to credit our messy family for getting my cousin over many of her neat freak issues. She never complains while we are there making messes, and quietly cleans up after we leave.

Although she does say, "don't leave your stuff here. You people always forget to take all of your stuff."

But that's what relationships are for, right? People trigger our issues and it's up to us to get over them. Usually by accepting other peoples quirky faults, that frequently mirror our own.

Yes, it's all very interesting isn't it? I mean I'm sitting here blogging that my cousin's dog is out of control, but what does she think of my kids. Or worse, what does she think of my dog? I know my kids aren't angels, well not perfect angels, anyways.

Oh and I almost for forgot, my cousin said, "No, the cat doesn't smell like the dog's butt."

I couldn't verify that for myself however, because I couldn't get close enough to the cat.

Shower Circus

This is one of those days where the blog is about the video. If you don't watch the video then you're not getting the full titillating experience of the blog.

Okay, I wasn't going to run this video because the first time I saw it I was like, "Is this guy 18?"

Oh yeah his profile says he is 22. Phew.

"That doesn't mean anything!" says Stefan waking me up out of a drunken voyeuristic stupor.

Then as the dancer started stripping in the shower, I clicked stop because, my monthly visitor was visiting. And she brought a lot of luggage this time. And, of course, there was the chance that I might be breaking the law.

Then I told my friend about it.

"You have to see this guy dance. It isn't like he is my type, and I'm sure I'm not his, but he dances so sexy. But I don't think I can post it on the blog because he doesn't look legal."

"Wait a second," says my friend pulling up the "Shower Circus" video on YouTube. "Oh yeah I see what you mean. Yeah, he looks like he's in the low 20s."

So here it is. Oh and if you're a guy and you think this blog isn't for you then, well, all I can say is every woman loves a great dancer. And if she's laughing, then she's loving you.

Fa La Freezing

Merry Christmas Everyone! Wishing everyone the best holiday season ever!

I thought for Christmas I would post a hip Hanukkah song. That totally makes sense to me. Welcome to my world, where everything IS connected!

This song is dedicated two (not a typo!) all the folks whose birthdays fall on or around the same time as Christmas.

All I Want For Christmas Is My Arm, Please and Thanks

Flat As A Pancake

All I want for Christmas is my arm. Yeah it hasn't even been two weeks since I last surfed, but not only can I not surf, as in NADA SURF, I can hardly do anything else either.

Although it hasn't stopped us from having.............Nevermind. But I will say there is a Goddess. Amen, and praise the Lourdes.

While I have missed writing, reading, being able to dress and undress, wash and style my hair, and shave my pits. I have NOT missed doing the dishes.

I haven't even complained out loud about how a spot was missed in the toilet or how there's still food on the clean dishes. Because then it would appear as if I don't appreciate the help and do I ever. Thank you, honey!

But don't worry I'm still doing the laundry one handed. And working a bit.

I have to say I'm not sure when it all started, but it may have had something to do with me whining about not getting to surf for five days because Gio was out of school for Winter break. Yes, I'm fairly certain, I think, that was the point of whine, that has lead to so much more whining.

When am I going to explain what happened? In a few more paragraphs, hang on. Not that tight. Okay, that's better.

I have an addictive personality. Surfing is very addictive, kind of like crack, and no Mom, I never ever did crack, or acid, or mushr..........Wait, well I did dabble in fungus, but not enough to damage a large quantity of brain cells. Permanently, anyways.

Besides, I lost way more brain cells in one child birth than all the drugs combined. Probably because I was a young drug addict and an older Mommy. And I didn't take drugs with either labor. Yes, I know I don't get an award for that I was just saying, "NO!" for once.

Oh so back to what happened to my shoulder and why I can't use my arm to lift my arm, let alone anything else. Well, I'm not sure what happened physically. Maybe it was from pulling into too many tubes, and failing. Really, I think it was from complaining.

Complaining about missing five whole days of surf. Boo, hooo, wah!

It's not uncommon to hear a surfer say, "Oh man, I need to get in the water. I haven't surfed in two days." I myself have uttered those very words, shakily with drool running down my face.

Anyways, I have learned to appreciate my arm so much more now. My shoulder is getting better thanks to massage, energy work and acupuncture. But I will probably be out of the water for another week or three. And that's okay. Deep breath. Really.

Disneyland Loves Me in 09!

Oh my gosh, I may not be a famous blogger, yet, but I'm loved by Disneyland.

Move over Mickey, SurfMama is taking over Disneyland. Um, is there a wave pool there? Oh, never mind. Donald Duck can just fly me to Trestles in his helicopter. Or maybe Tinkerbell will just sprinkle some of that pixie dust on me, and Peter Pan and I will fly to the beach.

I don't even know what to write, but thanks to everyone who made my year at Disneyland possible. The video pretty much explains what Disneyland is doing for me and how they are going to do it. So watch below. You have to click on the play button or the video won't start. Click play. Click play. Click play.

Shane Mercado Can Dance!

I found this video of Shane Mercado, dancer extraordinaire, on urlesque.com. The video parody of Beyonce's "Single Ladies" won Urlies 2008 Best Dancer award. His outfit cracks me up every time I watch it.


How smart is a guy who can learn the choreography of a dance from watching it on video? Brilliant!

Not only did he out dance BeeeYonCeee, but he started a wave of YouTube videos imitating him and/or Beyonce. Shane, you are such an inspiring trend setter.

I love it!

He said it took him a couple of days to learn the dance. I LOVE! YouTube. Where else can a creative, talented, funny person put his stuff out for all the world to see and appreciate? Tell me, please. I will go there, right now.




Shane and Beyonce Split Screen.


Shane appeared on the Bonnie Hunt Show with the Single Ladies video green screened behind him. His segment from the show went viral, now has several million hits, and Shane was invited back to perform in front of a 70s green screen.

I was so excited when I saw Shane out dancing John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever to the tune of, "You Should Be Dancing," I couldn't wait to show my Mom.

"I think he might be better than John Travolta," my Mom said. And let's face it, Shane is having so much more FUN! than Mr. Macho Can't Deal With His Feelings Tony Manero, John Travolta's character in SNF.

When I was a kid, family and friends used to come to our house to practice their disco dancing because we had a large open area. I can still see them in mind's eye, even now.



Beyonce gives props to Shane.

Christian the Lion

I first saw this video several months ago, maybe the end of summer, after a friend emailed it to me.

Stefan and I were watching it together.

"Oh my gosh, is the lion going to eat them?" asks Stefan.

But I knew the person who emailed me this video wouldn't send me anything freaky and traumatic.

I love this story of the guys finding the lion cub at Harrod's of London in a tiny cage, raising him for a year or so, and returning him to the wild. But the icing of this story is the reunion a year later with the lion.

"Is that a true story?" asks Stefan. So I found an interview with the two men retelling their experience with Christian the Lion 35, or so, years later.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

This video is like a country song: I cry every time I watch it.

And it's a great reminder during the holiday season, when we all tend to get a bit stressed over things that, in the end, don't really matter.

What matters is love. Sometimes, love means overlooking the perceived faults of those we love, and more often over looking our own faults. It's about being with people and accepting them right where they are, even if it's obvious they ought to be somewhere else.

I have noticed when I'm at peace with myself, the weird things other people do, don't bother me and I can find compassion in myself for that person because I am experiencing self compassion.

Don't wait til life is perfect to enjoy it, just enjoy where you are, right here, right now. Yes, tomorrow may be better, but be here now. Sometimes, it seems being on Planet Earth, is a lesson in opposites. We can't know up, if we don't know down. We appreciate what we have, sometimes, when we have less.

Common Thread Sugarland Amos Lee Emily Saliers

My BFF (best friend forever), in an alternate universe that I may only ever visit in my dreams, has started a concert fundraising series. Yes, Miss Jennifer Nettles has created, "Common Thread," an acoustic fundraising, multi musical genre concert series, where proceeds are donated to the charity of the participating artists' choice.

There are three levels of ticket options. The highest includes a reception where guests get to mingle with the musicians. Wow! Yes, it would be a dream to get to mingle with one of my favorite planetary heroine's, as well as good practice for the day when I will interview Ms. Nettles. The day after I become a famous blogger.

Until then I am satisfied with watching some of the videos Common Thread concert goers have posted to YouTube. Thank Goddess for YouTube!

The first concert installment of Common Thread includes Jennifer Nettles, Christian Bush, both of Sugarland, Emily Saliers of the Indigo Girls and Amos Lee, of, um I don't know who he is. Hold, please. Okay, I think he's famous for being Amos Lee and known for this song, "Colors," which was featured on Grey's Anatomy second season finale.

Did someone just say? "Oh My Gosh, I love that song!"

Anyways, here are some of my favorite YouTube postings of the inaugural Common Thread.


Sugarland and Amos Lee "Seen It All Before"


Sugarland, Emily Saliers, Amos Lee "People Get Ready"


Sugarland and Emily Saliers perform "Closer To Fine"

Snow Fight!

Boys and girls are very different. I had always heard that, but I never really understood the difference until I gave birth to a son. Sometimes, between living with 3 boys and surfing in a male dominated sport, I feel like I'm perpetually traveling from one boys' world to the next boys' club .

When it's really bad I can hear my inner girl screaming, "please bake something, paint your toe nails, go shopping, watch a chick flick alone, seek shelter from the madness in the nearest cave!" But I never succumb to her pleading, because, after all, I chose this world.

But I don't exactly fit in, which is okay, because I don't really fit in anywhere, ever. The important part for me isn't necessarily fitting in, but rather being able to navigate safely through foreign waters.

A few weeks ago we took a trip to the snow, or should I say the snow came to us. I am happy to say it's nice to visit the snow and be done with that until next year. Yes, it's fun. But it's cold.

My cold quota is filled by the Pacifireezic Ocean and I don't have room for anymore cold in my life. I even go so far as to heat my water before drinking it to avoid room temperature types of cold.

Snow in the Park was from 10-4, but we barely made it there by 3. Not bad considering the effort it takes to get all four of us out the door. Huge! And perfectly on time, in my book, because we missed the crowds, plus I got to surf and do some laundry.

"Okay everyone get dressed so we can go," I say every ten minutes only to be ignored for better things like legos and pillow fights. Taking forever to go somewhere is standard operating procedure for our family.


Though it took forever to get there, we arrived in time for some bouncing, and we stayed until it was too dark to take pictures with my "cell phone excuse" of a camera. Or should I say we stayed until the only snow person, was no longer standing? For some reason Vinny had it in him, right down to his DNA, "to destroy the snowman!"

I know this is some sort of boy thing, that men never seem to outgrow, hence my husband's participation in the snow person's demise. So I figure it's best to let them express their physicality in a safe environment where no one gets hurt, except an innocent snow person. Sorry, Frosty.

"Go ahead guys let the testosterone run wild in your arms and legs."



Being out of my realm, I wandered down to the beach to take a few pictures. When I came back this is all that was left of the snow person. The boys were satisfied, exhausted, and hungry . Stefan seemed to derive as much satisfaction from this bizarre male ritual as the boys did.






Throwing snowballs into the street.

Vinny the Blogger

Sometimes parents' habits wear off on their children, unintentionally.

"Mommy I need to make my own blog," says Vinny.

Hmmmmm. I'm not sure whether to be proud or worried. I should probably be a little bit of both. I started to envision my little guy's blog being read by 1000s of people we dont know and that definitely worried me. I guess I should have gone to Vinny's school to take the Internet Safety class.

On the other hand he is an advanced reader and as a result a pretty good little writer. When he reads my blog, the ones that are appropriate for his eyes, he always has some editing input.

"Mommy you forgot to put a comma here and here, and you misspelled this word and that word."

The first time he did this I was having an, "uh oh I could only hope to be as smart as a second grader," moment. But I went to self esteem therapy and now I'm okay with my intellectual inferiority. The human race just keeps on improving.

One of the rules about writing a blog I believe I follow, is when I write about someone, then they should be happy to read about themselves. They shouldn't feel ostracized or picked on, I hope Vinny also follows that rule. Especially when it comes to his parents because we really are doing the best we can and we are so sorry if that isn't good enough.

After his Daddy helped him set up his blog he wrote his first blog tittled "Gio Soaked."

As soon as it was published I went to his blog page to read his very first blog post. I left him a very Mommy comment then started following his blog.

Thursday, December 11, 2008
Soaking Gio
ONE TIME WHEN MY DAD SENT ME AND GIO OUTSIDE, GIO STARTED TO MAKE MUD. THEN GIO PUT DIRT IN OUR DOG'S WATER. THEN I RINSED IT OUT AND SQUIRTED GIO. He started putting more mud and dirt in it. So I had to re-rinse it. And I squirted him again. But still he put more dirt! After a while Gio was soaked. And when my dad saw Gio, he gave me an extra 30 minutes outside. I don't really care about that I told my dad. It was really worth it.

So, if your little brother annoys you, a great way to take care of the problem is to squirt him!
Posted by Life and Times of Vinny at 6:38 PM
2 comments:
wendy@areyoubreathing.com said...
Ahem, it seems as if all the squirting didn't deter your little brother from his annoying task.

December 11, 2008 7:00 PM
Briar's Person said...
can I pay you to come squirt my brothers?

December 12, 2008 11:39 AM

About an hour after he posted his first blog he said, "I have another blog idea," and he says I'm addicted to blogging. Too bad it was his bed time.

Right before he was off to bed he said I need to check something on my blog, so I quickly let him do that.

"No new followers," he said disappointed. Then he asked me, "how many followers do you have Mommy?"

"Seven, I think," I answered thinking I'm not even going to tell him about web site hit counters. If he has a hit counter on his site he'll be checking for new hits every 5 minutes.

I know, because when I first installed a hit counter on my website I used to check it for hits every five minutes.

The Problem with Toy Guns

I don't let my kids play with guns. Toy guns. But they are boys. Body parts as simple as a hand, a thumb and an index finger can magically be combined into a shooter on the whim of their imagination.

From an old remote car opener, to a stick, to legos, nothing is sacred, and anything can be morphed into a toy replica of violence and destruction.

The other day the boy next door was outside playing with two toy guns. It took Gio less than a minute fraction of a milli second to spot the "shooters," in our young neighbor's hands.

"Can I see your shooter," asks Gio practically foaming at the mouth. Even though Gio doesn't know a shooter's real name, he knows what a shooter does and he got his message across. Our young neighbor obliged and handed Gio the shooter.

Unfortunately, this young lad has many toys Gio froths over, including a better tricycle and several go carts. Yes, cars built with little people in mind. It's hard to compete with cool toys. Departing into the house usually ends with screaming, upon screaming, frosted with more screaming from Gio.

But that isn't why I am writing this blog. As I was scanning headlines the other day, one particular headline caught my eye, "U.S. Collects Toy Guns."

"Hooray!" I thought perhaps I can talk the neighbor into handing over his toy guns. I went on to imagine the U.S. government was making a statement against violence by collecting guns from kids because it now realizes it isn't okay to send a message of "violence is fun," to the young children in our country.

But then I clicked on the article. I was disappointed and woken up from my developed world stupor, all at the same time. The article was about U.S. soldiers in Iraq collecting toy guns from children in Iraq. The toy guns can easily be mistaken as real guns by soldiers and the intent is to prevent innocent children from being shot by soldiers.

Overprah?

At some point I decided I was over Oprah, hence my friend coined the term Overprah. Nowadays, I just don't find myself in front of the TV very often, so until Oprah episodes are on the web I will be Overprah.

It isn't like I have anything against Oprah. No. Actually I respect her, admire her, and I appreciate her bringing consciousness to the masses.
A consciousness that I believe is improving life on planet Earth.

Even after I turned Overprah, I tuned into all of her webinar classes on Eckhart Tolle's book, New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose. So what did I think of the webinar?

While, I personally didn't hear anything I hadn't heard before, I do appreciate being reminded of what's important in life. Also, I was thrilled that 1000s upon 1000s of people were hearing all of this enlightening information for the first time. New folders of consciousness were being created and uploaded full of information about being in the moment. The only place to be as far as I'm concerned.

While I wish that Oprah and Tolle would have stressed more breathing exercises as a tool for being in the NOW, I felt at least they were off to a great start, albeit in my book, it's a kindergarten start.

Incidentally, a lot of the listeners kept getting stuck on the notion that they needed to fit their life's purpose into a "job." Wrong people. In my opinion, our life's purpose is to be ourselves. We can all be ourselves by being in the moment, which allows us to truly get to know ourselves. Getting quiet and going within can be achieved by focusing attention on the moment at hand, whether it's doing the dishes or reading a book to our children, combined with a focus on the breath.

The simplest, free-est and easiest way to achieve oneness with the now is to focus on the in breath, the out breath and the spaces between the in breath and the out breath. The transition spaces between breaths are known as still points. I love feeling my breath as it moves through my body oxygenating each and every cell. When focusing on my breath, as I try to do throughout the day, the world around me becomes brighter and more alive. Ironically, it makes my childrens' screams quieter.

Yogis have known about this secret for years. To me, the best part about Yoga is it gets me in my body and in the moment. Yay. I would venture to say most people are not in their bodies and not in the moment. Most people live in their heads in some past or future moment, instead of the right here and NOW.

True I don't always live in the moment, but when I find myself in the past or the future I can snap back to the present by focusing on breathing.

I don't want to mislead anyone into thinking I'm perfect (or worse that I think I'm perfect) or I never make mistakes because being in the moment doesn't magically make life's problems disappear. But I do feel being in the moment gives me insight into unique ways to work through my problems. I feel being in the moment gives me a direct connection to my intuition and guidance from the divine.

This brings me full circle back to Oprah. Though I don't know her personally, whether you like her or not, she is herself and she is fulfilling her life's purpose. How do I know that? Well, her aura colors are green and violet with a enough yellow thrown in to keep her from getting too serious and stiff.

Green is a mental life color. Folks with green in their aura, when in power, are brilliant, excellent delegators of authority and they tend to be perfectionists, which comes with its own set of issues. Once greens make up their minds on doing something, stopping them is futile, so join in and help, or get out of their way, fast.

Violet on the other hand, is from the emotional aura color family and peeps with this color, when in power, are visionary, inspiring and see the big picture. They also tend to be spiritual. They are here to make life on Earth better for everyone.

Put green and violet together, when in power, this team is unstoppable. These are two of the most powerful aura colors. In other words, the green has the ability to carry out the humongous dream of the violet.

Does this remind anyone of Oprah, besides me? I can answer that with two questions. One, is she inspiring people to make changes for the better in their own lives. Yes! Two, is she making planet Earth a better place. Yes!

So whether you agree with her politics or not, anyone can, at the very least, see her as a role model. For many people she provides a pathway to reaching and living their true potential.

Oprah is a very powerful woman. Sometimes, peeps have a hard time with powerful women. Traditionally, in our society, women have been encouraged to take on the role of nurturer, which has been seen as weak, but make no mistake the role of nurturer is the strength and backbone of any country. Mothers not only nurture their children, but they are teachers, organizers, leaders, artists, financial planners, managers of time and so much more to their children.

However, women who don't fit into the Mommy niche are often called man haters or feminists and worse. And this reminds me of one of my favorite things about Oprah, that it's okay to be a non-traditional woman, which is good for men, women, as well as boys and girls, to see.

So, Oprah isn't perfect, but who is? We can all only aspire to be our imperfect selves. After all, we do learn a lot from our mistakes, don't we?

Shiba Inu Puppy Cam

Live Broadcasting by Ustream

Ever want a dose of puppy, without all the pooping and peeing, shoe chewing, waking up at 3 in the morning, that comes with a puppy? If skipping that sounds good, and you can live without the cuddling and walking on the beach with puppy, then the Shiba Inu Puppy Cam might be the perfect puppy for you.

The Shibu Inu Puppy Cam is also a great alternative for people who love dogs, but are allergic to them. Also, the puppy cam is great for folks who live in rentals that don't allow dogs.

"Wow!


I am so excited I am going to embed the Shiba Inu Puppy Cam on my website right now!

"Eew!" I think a puppy just went poo!

Enter human on the Shiba Inu Puppy Cam, armed with paper towels.

Yes, the human is cleaning up the mess, but the puppies are swarming him, and from the camera angle, the pups appear to be stepping in poo."

"Eeew!"

Better him than me, although I think I can smell something coming through my computer. I wish I hadn't purchased the Advanced Olfaction Wireless Detection System for my computer. Some things are better left un-smelt.

New Sugarland Release "Love"

Sugarland released its third video, "Love," from their latest album, "Love on the Inside." If you want to watch the new video release, click here, as they wouldn't let me embed it on the blog.

All I have to say about that is this proves that God listens to other music besides country. Or, perhaps, after watching Kid Rock who is now Kid Country, and seeing the reggae band, the Wailers, backing up Kenny Chesney on the CMAs, maybe country isn't as country as it used to be.

When I was tivo-ing through the 2008 CMAs, I was surprised Sugarland sang, "Love." The U2esque "Love," which dives into the many facets of love, doesn't sound very country. My country friend told me, "they are probably going to release that song next." Lo and behold they did.

I believe this is their first attempt to crossover from the country market into other genres. Yay! Although I will listen to them in whatever genre they pick to sell records in.

I love their songwriting and the emotional depths to which they sing their songs. When I listen to Sugarland's new album, it isn't just an auditory experience, but rather an emotional journey through life. And the twang doesn't bother me one bit.

Pipeline and Kelly Slater Save the Day!

I didn't get to surf yesterday. Gio's school officially let out for winter break on Wednesday. When I checked to see if the Pipeline Masters was a go, I saw the words, "Pipe Masters is On!"

"Yippee, yay," I said as I did back flips and somersaults in my mind.

"Mommy, are you okay?" asks Gio.

Sorry, Mommy can be a little scary when she is excited about surfing.

My friend had texted me earlier that morning saying there were waves so I was a little bummed to be missing out on some fun surf.

"It was fun, but not epic," she said trying to make me feel better.

And I felt worse knowing the weekend forecast was bleak with winds expected out of the northwest in the 10-20 knot range. Although, as I'm writing this Friday evening, there is a plan for an early dawn patrol session today.

"I'll check the waves at 7," my friend says.

"I might beat you there," I say knowing full well I'm not leaving the warmth of my house to find stormy seas. No, I'm gonna wait for the surf report, even though I have a brand new, never been peed in, 5-4 Oneill Mod wetsuit. This helps when the water temps are 50 and the air is in the 40s.

"Yeah, right," she says sarcastically knowing me too well.

So in replacement of actually surfing, Gio and I sat in front of the computer screen, watching two or three of Kelly Slater's winning heats. Reading books in between sets and rides, and microblogging the contest on Twitter.

wendysurf: Slater gets a massive Pipe barrel, and then a sick pit at backdoor. Deeep! Crazy!!! about 3 hours ago from web

wendysurf: Slater magic, 19 points in less than 3 minutes. That's why he's the 9 time world champ. He's no slouch. Timmy had priority on both waves. about 3 hours ago from web

It's amazing with the advent of live webcasts, to be able to watch a surfing contest as it's happening. Live! In the old days, I used to read about contest's results two months after the fact. Yes, live is a wee bit better, and all the more exciting to blog about.

Slater went on to win his 6th Pipe Masters yesterday. I love watching my favorite surfer, surfing the most exciting wave on the planet. And it definitely makes up for a day of no surf for me.

Response Blog to "House Arrest"

My friend has this cat. His name is Briar. She has a lot of trouble keeping track of him. Way more trouble than I have of keeping track of my own children, usually.

She frequently texts me asking, "has anyone seen Briar today?" Briar used to hang out at Vinny's school, but he's moved on to bigger and better things.

For example, one time when he didn't come home all night, he turned up the next day at a wedding! I wonder what he brought as a gift for the bride and groom? Silly me, he brought himself, as anyone who has been graced by Briar's presence knows he truly is a gift from God. Or maybe he just is God. Remember that song, "What If God Was One Of Us?"

Then when my friend was picking Briar up from the wedding, she was stopped by a guest, "is that you're cat?" This is the very same question she gets whenever she is out and about with Briar.

"Yep," she replies.

"That cat came in my room last night and slept under the bed!" the guest informs her. And we aren't talking about the Holiday Inn here folks. No. We're talking about an upscale place in a posh tourist town where Clint Eastwood was once the mayor.

When I was starting my blog I told my friend, "you could totally start a blog for Briar. You could give him a GPS tracking device and then people could go online and see where Briar is any time of the day." I really meant then she could see where he was anytime of the day, instead of waiting for someone to find him on one of his nature walks or stowaway car adventures.

It's always shocking when people do listen to me, especially when they say, "OMG you were so right!"

Anyways, now Briar has his own blog. If only she would update it everyday. Hmmmmmm. Where did that random thought come from? But the best thing about Briar's blog is reading about how kind, helpful and full of love people are. People who come across Briar are always calling my friend to return him home safely. In today's world, Briar is living proof that people still care and go way out of their way to give a helping hand.

When people see my friend and Briar walking at the beach they ask her, "is that the famous cat?" Doesn't he have his own website?"

"Yes, it's briarkitty.com" she responds.

I am still hoping one day she will get Briar his own GPS tracking device, for her own sake. Hint. Hint. Hint.

When she meets people on the street they frequently offer her unsolicited parenting advice about how she should keep him inside where he can be safe from the dangerous world.

Somehow I don't think Briar would be very happy locked up inside all day, even if it would keep him safer. I had an indoor cat who I tried to keep safe and eventually he ate something he shouldn't have and choked to death. Sorry that was sad, but sometimes we have to let our children venture out into the world and let them live their lives. This may be one of the hardest parts of parenting.

The other night Briar came home after being out who knows where, and my friend thought he was hurt because he was having a difficult time jumping up to his perch and he growled when she touched him.

"I'm going to have to keep him in for a few days," she texted me.

Anyways, I was thinking for his house arrest, I would offer her some unsolicited parenting advice.

"Get Briar a Roomba. The cat in this video really likes riding it. I believe it will make his days locked up inside much more enjoyable. Plus, you won't have to vacuum."

"BLECK!"

I'm just now realizing how deprived I was as a child during Christmas.
My kids have two advent calendars each! All four calendars have chocolate in them.

I on the other hand, re-used the same advent calendar year in and year out, and it never had chocolate in it. Happily I might add, because I didn't know any better.

My Mom likes to claim, "I recycled before it was popular." Boy, did she ever.

And if she had gotten me an advent calendar with treats I'm sure they would have been carob candies. Here's what I have to say about carob, "BLECK!"

My Mom was a bit of a health food nut and I suffered the consequences of that throughout my entire childhood.

Ironically, when it comes to my kids, all her health nut fanaticism appears to have gone out the window, because she loves spoiling them with unhealthy treats.

In our house, the word Nana is synonymous with ice cream, M&Ms, and all things junk food. What did I get as a child besides carob? Hmmm? Let me think, there were fruit roll ups and almonds. Oh joy! No, not Almond Joy, just plain old almonds. Not even the candied ones.

I'm pretty sure depriving a child of something leads to adulthood addictions in some cases.

Oh my look at the time! I'm late for my Chocoholic Anonymous meeting.

Snoring

The other night I was laying in bed, listening to my husband snore.

"I can deal with this sound," I thought to myself. "On second thought, I love him, but that is too darn loud!" I say out loud while simultaneously elbowing him.

"Huh? What's going on?" he asks freaking out, turns over and goes back to sleep.

I knew this would happen, but I had to get some sleep. There's nothing worse than lying in bed listening to someone else sleep. Is there?

This video reminds me of Stefan without all the coughing up cheeto business. Although sometimes in his sleep he......nevermind, but I will say it's totally gross. Anyways, this video makes me laugh, which is a lot more than I can say for his snoring.

"I love you, baby!"

Celebrate Diversity

Each and every person on Planet Earth has their own unique finger print. Everyone is different and that, in my opinion, is what makes the world go 'round.

I love having friends who are different than me. And trust me they are. Friends with different and unique perceptions, who come from various religious, professional and childhood backgrounds. I learn so much about life from the stories they take the time to share with me. One way to live isn't better than any other way.

There are as many ways to live life, as there are people living on Planet Earth, approximately 6.7 billion and counting. Each person is creating their own movie here on Earth. Some people prefer drama and some prefer comedy, while others are drawn to documentaries or musicals. Then there are those who seem to be living in a romantic comedy, which in real life is not that funny.

Although sometimes I wonder why everyone doesn't see things the way I do. My vision of the world could make the world a better place. But that would be so boring and may not work since everyone probably holds their own vision in the same regard.

The point of being on Planet Earth is to learn from each other's gifts and share our gifts with the world.

But in reality what frequently happens is people who are different are ostracized because they don't fit into the MYTH of the norm. People often fear what they don't understand. It's time to put fear aside and embrace love by listening to people who are different so we can understand where they are coming from, instead of telling them where we think they ought to be coming from.

Now is the time to stop taking away people's rights because they are different from what we believe is right. Opinions are like noses: every one's got one. As long as air gets through it, no matter the shape or size of the nose, then so be it. Rather than judging someone eles's nose, let's all take a deep breath together. Breathing is one thing we all have in common.

One of the interesting trends happening on the Internet is the level of honesty is higher through online communications than face to face. And I think this lessening of smoke and mirrors online eventually will filter down to face to face relations. People once thought that the Internet was making life less personal, but it's actually creating forums for people to be honest about who they are because they can connect to thousands of people similar to themselves.

Now there's a breath of fresh air.

A Bad Day of Surfing

A surfing company used to have an ad slogan that went something like, "Even a bad day of surfing is better than a good day at work."

And this explains why after getting slapped in the face by one wave, having another wave try to pull my arm out of its socket and yet another wave attempt to give me whiplash I love, love, love surfing.

Or having someone who doesn't know how to surf paddle straight out to the peak, I waited 10 years to paddle over to, or having some guy snake me because I'm a girl and he doesn't yet know, "mama might surf better than him, or getting snaked even when the surfer knows I can surf, I love, love, love surfing.

Or when I'm in the middle of a crowd that doesn't know there are rules in surfing, and instead believes it's a free for all, cowabunga, induced orgy, I love, love, love surfing.

Or when some grumpy local starts yelling profanities because he doesn't know how to cope with the surge in popularity of surfing that is causing CEOs and fortysomethings to take to the waves in the 1000s, I love, love, love surfing.

After all that abuse, which sometimes reminds me of a bad relationship I should probably consider leaving, even after hypothermia has set itself into my bones, I love, love, love surfing.

Prop H8: The Musical

One of my facebook friends posted an awesome video titled, "Prop 8 The Musical." I LOVE social networking for the very reason of sharing, sharing and more sharing. When celebrities join together for a good cause, I have to say, I'm nothing but impressed.

I adore a gr8 musical. This one is especially near and dear to my heart. Jack Black, as Jesus, is brilliant. Some of my favorite lines from the musical were, "choose love instead of hate and besides your nation was built on separation of church and state!"

If you have three minutes and sixteen seconds give this video a go. It's worth it.

Happiness is Contagious So Take Off Your Clothes

There was an article published in Friday's New York Times about how if your friends' friends are happy they can affect you in a happy, positive way. Click the link above if you need all the data to believe happiness spreads like wildfire from person to person.

I didn't need a study to know that. In fact, lately I've been noticing when people smile at me, in say the grocery store, I get this warm, happy, fuzzy feeling inside. True, sometimes it's because I just wet my pants, another lovely side effect of natural childbirth, but not always. How do you spell K-E-G-E-L-S?

Lately, I've been surfing with my SFF (surfing friend forever) and she's all smiles and happiness out in a line up full of grumpy, grouchy, stink eye surfers. I've noticed her smiles and our laughter having an impact on the surfing line up, even if it's a confused, "what's so funny? I don't get it?" kind of impact. Which usually makes us laugh more. Then, their stink eyes magically transform into smiles and they start laughing with us, even though they don't quite know what they are laughing at.

And we are so nice we often let the guys think we are talking secretly about them. Of course, sometimes we actually are talking about them. Like, when Not Smith paddles out. Smith is Samantha's boyfriend from Sex in the City(these are not real people), and there's a guy that surfs who looks just like Smith, so we call him Not Smith because he looks like Smith, but he isn't. I don't think he is, anyways?

Smith even shaved his head when Samantha got cancer. But unfortunately, Samantha couldn't deal with the side effects of monogamy and she let him go. Poor Smith.



This Photo is for those people who
don't know who Smith is. Now you do.

One day after my friend paddled in to go to work one surfer dude commented, "wow your friend sure is happy!"

"I know that's why I love surfing with her," I say. Even when she's frozen as a Popsicle and can no longer feel her feet, she's still smiling and laughing."

Surfing in a Child's Ocean

One of my parenting mandates is lead by example. Sometimes, I am not very good at it either. Such as when I'm tired, which I've been for about seven plus years now. But if I fess up to my mistakes and actually learn from them, then my kids can learn too.

Humans learn almost nothing when life goes perfectly throughout their entire childhood. Those poor folks are in for a very rude awakening when their first trauma hits in early adulthood. I know it sounds weird, but I'm always thankful for my less than perfect childhood. I feel well prepared for life, although I still think it's really hard being on this planet at times, at least it never comes as a surprise.

"It's not fair," my kids say.

"Exactly," is my honest response.

Anyways, back to leading by example. I don't swear, in front of my kids.

Although, it is getting trickier with their evolutionary enhanced mind reading abilities to keep my private thoughts private. So much so, that I am having to limit the curse words I think in my head while in their presence. Oh no, it isn't enough that I have given up alcohol, crack and nearly all of television, but now I have to monitor my thoughts as well? "Not fair!" Oops.

Don't feel sorry for me, I have kept, and even added to, the hobbies I love. I didn't like the way I felt after using crack and TV, anyways. Besides, both of those drugs really interfere with my surfing. If I stay up too late watching TV I will invariably miss out on something else and it makes it impossible to dawn patrol the next day.

Many times my kids will say out loud, what I'm thinking in my head. Can't we just go back to the days of communicating with words out loud, please? How are we all going to lie and get away with it, anymore? I suppose the good news is now we can all relax and be ourselves. I can't possibly be the only one who is experiencing the, "omg my kid has esp," phenom, can I?

The other day I was having a hard day in parenting world, when my oldest son says to me, "I know what you're thinking."

"You do?" I ask feeling like an open book, which would be an understatement except for the fact that he reads books for hours on end.

"Yeah, you're thinking you wish Gio and I were never born."

Fortunately, he was a bit off, but not by much. I was actually pondering, "why on Earth didn't someone tell me how hard parenting really is?"

They all said, "you two will make such great parents." And I believed them.

"Sucker! LOL ha ha ha. We got her good." Does anyone else hear those voices besides me?

Sometimes it is hard to feel like a great parent, especially when my kids are doing things like teasing each other mercilessly, or just plain old not listening to me. Oh and the looks other people give, well, it's a good thing I really don't care what they think, but sometimes it would be nice to have a little support from the outside world, especially since I now have to live in it.

People don't tell potential parents how hard parenting is because if childless people knew, they wouldn't do it. If the childless were smart, they would get a cat, a stroller and walk around town pushing their meowing babies all the while pretending to play house.

There is no way to actually know how great and how hard parenting is until the task is undertaken. And then it is too late to back out. Especially since we can't drop our kids off in Nebraska anymore. Those legislators totally ruined my back up plan.

People without children don't have the capacity to comprehend the vast ocean of parenting. Until a person becomes a parent there is no need to navigate the treacherous waters of endless madness and boundless love parents undergo. Trust me, I know I used to be one of those people. Ignorance is bliss, baby.

One of the things I love (barf!)hearing when I discuss my parenting dilemmas with friends who have older and grown children is, "my kid never did that." Yes I love that one. Those words pop my parenting self esteem bubble right into outer space. Thank goodness I have friends who still remember the torture they inflicted on their siblings, and vice versa.

I also wonder what medication people are on when they say , "oh I loved that age. It was so easy."

"Excuse me?" Okay, now I know they are on crack. There is no easy phase, maybe easy days. Everyone thinks parenting younger kids is easier than parenting teenagers who drive cars and are under the influence of raging hormones. Wait? On second thought, that sounds much worse.

But even knowing it gets harder doesn't help when right where I am just sucks. It was like thinking having one kid was so hard. Wrong. But I didn't realize that until I had two kids. Having one kid is practically like not having kids at all. Especially when I realize, "uh oh, this isn't like one of those bad dysfunctional relationships where I can just walk away? Nope, I'm pretty stuck in parenting hell with the nearest exit being my next lifetime, maybe. And even then, they might still find me."

Like when we try to go shopping and my kids suddenly experience severe brain damage thinking, "hey this is a great place to play tag and hide and seek," running around the store like wild animals. Yes, those were my kids.

Okay, I concede it would be fun to do that, but please for Mommy's sanity, "STOP!" I may not care what people think, but I hate being stabbed in the heart by strangers' piercing glares. And being a mind reader makes all those stares so much worse because I can, also, hear what they are thinking. Sometimes, I have to remind people that they were once children, too.

News Fast

Photo by Vinny

News fasting has sadly come to a close for me. And it all ended with this blog. Sure, other great things have happened since I started blogging including, but not limited to, sleeping and feeling an inner sense of joy and peace. One of the challenges of blogging daily, besides blogging daily, is I am now tuned into global consciousness.

I'm kind of sensitive and at some point in my life I started having nightmares and anxiety from reading the news that lead me to give up reading or watching the news. Being a journalism major, I know for a fact that news leads with death, mayhem and celebrity, not in that order. And the more the better.

Even blog readers don't want to read about what someone had for lunch. "Zzzzzzz." By the way, there's an excuse for my kiss and tell writing style.

Newspapers need sensationalistic headlines to sell. Although that doesn't seem to be going well for them lately does it? Turns out everything is connected.

"Hooray!"

I've been saying it all along, and it's not about me being right. I'm excited because the world seems to be catching up with me, even if it had to come at the expense of everyone's wallet. Out of bad things, come good things.

Waking up isn't easy and who enjoys the sound of their alarm clock, anyways? Not me. But it's going to be a lot easier if we all just get out of bed, and quit hitting the snooze button.

Since I started blogging, I have felt this need to become informed on what's going on in the world. Not a lot has changed since I tuned the news out. Yes, there is the good stuff, such as, "wow Americans aren't as racist as we once thought," paralleled by "but those Californias aren't so opened minded, now are they?"

But even the latter articles don't bother me so much as the ones about the violence that plagues our planet. Violence often perpetrated on innocent victims by people they know. By parents on kids and allegedly, kids on parents. By husbands on wives. By terrorists on civilians. That is the news I have a hard time reconciling in my mind, body and spirit. It's hard to read about that stuff day in and day out.

But, then I think of past life expert Brian Weiss and I figure the things that are happening now, probably, go way, way, way, way,way back. What someone doesn't learn in one life, carries over to subsequent lives, until that lesson is learned. People, please, do your homework. If not for the sake of this life, then, at least for the next one. All this repetition is soooooooooooooo boring, isn't it?

Repeat after me, "love is all that matters." Everything else is just silly.

Hmmmmmm? I wonder what I'm repeating. Oh yeah. I'm supposed to be breathing, being me, holding my vision of world peace in my mind's eye and feeling my feelings, because those are some of the things I can do in this world. And they are the actions that allow me to be in the moment.

Now is right where I want to be. Not in the past. Not in the future.

Oh, and when I forget all that, as I sometimes do, could someone please remind me? Thanks.

Just Jump!

I have this really smart dog. But sometimes, just like the rest of us, she lacks the necessary confidence to carry out a task.

Or maybe she isn't as smart as I think she is. She incessantly attacks the vacuum cleaner when it's on until I get so frustrated with her behavior I lock her outside with the kids. What's the point of that? If she could learn to leave the vacuum alone she wouldn't end up outside with the crazy people.

And it was only a few months ago, I saw her open a door for the very first time in ten years. I'm not talking about a locked door where she needed a key to gain entry. No. I'm talking about a door left ajar, with too small an opening for her to squek through. Up until she had the just push the ajar door open to gain entry epiphany, she used to stand there growling and barking for help in all her patheticness, until someone came to her rescue.

"Woof, woof, grrrrrrwl!" calls Nadia the Dog for help.

"Oh honey are you okay?" coos Stefan as he comes to her aid. He is a total sucker for her. When he's not looking, she sings this song to me. Specifically the part, "David Duchovny why won't you love me? I'm gonna kill Scully." Yes, that makes me Scully.


I call Nadia the Dog pathetic because compared to Nay Nay the Cat she is. Nay Nay the Cat, who is much smaller, can open a door with such force it's startling. Her door opening abilities frequently cause me to wonder, "who the heck just walked in my door? Phew, it's just Nay Nay the Cat."

On the other hand, Nadia the Dog is smart in a sneaky, caniving sort of way. She often talks us into feeding her second dinners by convincing the person who didn't feed her dinner that she hasn't had dinner yet. And she waits until the person who did feed her, leaves the room.

When I leave her in the car, she finds food I didn't even know was there and devours it leaving a mess of crumbs and fur as evidence to her misdeeds. Somehow she manages to hop from the very back to the snacks and back to the very back before I return to the car.

Even worse is when she gets my mochas, leaving behind an empty Starbucks cup and mocha drenched paw prints. Good thing for my handy dandy baby wipes. How she gets the lid off I will never know? I have a hard enough time doing this with my own hands, I can only imagine her challenge with paws and mouth. I have a feeling she is going to be in for a rude awakening when she realizes I have switched from mochas to Americanos. I can only hope she won't like Americanos.

Well, here is Nadia the dog stuck on a rock at the beach we have walked countless times. Eventually, she figured her own way down. And although I had to walk back to her royal stuckness and talk her down from the rock, at least I didn't have to carry her off the rock.

"Come on girlie, you can do it!" I say encouragingly. Funny thing is those are the exact words I need to hear when I'm stuck on a rock, not knowing if I should jump off into the wild unknown or head back for safety the way I came.

15 Times A Week, No 20, Make That 25.

The other day I was talking to my friend who says, "it's so awesome having sex 15 times a week."

I hadn't gotten lucky with my husband for a few days. She was only the second person that day to tell me how much sex she was having and in my grouchy deprived voice I say, "please don't talk to me about sex right now."

While, I have written my ideal amount of sex would be everyday, with work, opposite work schedules, plus kids that number is fiction. The days I don't get lucky I take a very long shower.

Thank goodness my husband only works 185 days a year. Of course, that doesn't account for the other 480 days he has to lesson plan and grade papers. But at least on those days he can sleep in and not wake up at 5:30 AM.

A few days later my friend changed her number. Good thing I don't cuss on the blog.

"Can I talk about your sex life in the blog," I ask her. I always, I think, anyways, ask people if I can talk about their private intimate details before I mention it on the blog.

I can tell when I talk to people, about private stuff, their minds are wondering if they are going to read about it the next day in my blog. Especially when they say things like, "I never want to be in the blog!" I hope that doesn't count?

I don't won't to go Jenny Schecter (from The L Word) on my friends. Jenny wrote an expose on her friends lives, and it turned into a movie. Her friends were really pissed. She hardly changed their names either. And she wasn't very nice about what she said. But she got really rich. I like that part. I want that part.

"Yeah...... my friend answers" "But I think we have been having sex more like 20 times a week. Wait, it's more like 25." I was starting to wonder if she was exaggerating for the sake of the blog.

Oh to be childless, think of all the sex I could be having.........But even I wouldn't trade my kids in for more sex, not for more than a month anyways. And I would definitely visit them if I didn't have to get on plane or drive for more than two hours. Is that called summer camp? Is this the time parents catch up on their sex lives?

Oh well, until summer time, cartoons will have to do.

That's Why I Love You

"That's why I love you," says Stefan after reading my blog.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because you're so funny, and that's the only reason," he says laughing.

"And I thought you loved me because I look just like Angelina Jolie when I'm naked?"

"She doesn't do anything for me," he says. "She looks like an alien."

Although, I think if we were watching her in a movie he might feel differently. But maybe the whole Billy Bob blood thing is still lingering in the back of his mind. Sounds like Billy and Angie each thought the other was Jesus or something.

At any rate, Angelina doesn't really do anything for me either. While, Brad Pitt may be a better person, I have to say he doesn't look as cute since he became Brangelina. He looks prettier standing alongside Jennifer Aniston.

And Stefan probably wouldn't have left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina if he was Brad, but I would have. So let's see what he thinks of the other Jennifer.

"Okay does Jennifer Nettles do it for you?" I ask leadingly.

"Yeah," he says. And I can feel his body getting excited at the thought of her. He was trying to hide it, but I'm really kinesthetic.

Now there is something we can both agree on.