Mommy Bloggers

I don't know why but recently I've become fixated on the whole mommy blogger thing. In case you have no idea what I'm talking about when I say mommy bloggers, I'm talking about Power Moms who companies are falling all over themselves trying to woo into hawking their products and services. I'm talking about women like Jessica Gottlieb, who get invited to the American Idol finale and party, and Jessica Smith, who is a Ford Flex spokesmom and gets to do stuff like be flown to Santa Barbara to stay at the Four Seasons hotel, work out with Oprah Winfrey's personal trainer and receive makeovers as part of a 30-day challenge on an upcoming fitness video program for the Nintendo Wii. This is how these ladies roll.

How lucky are they? Or...are they?

First of all, there seems to be a lot of heat on the collective mommy bloggers lately--the FTC is in the process of revising their guidelines relating to bloggers, based, it seems, largely on the tons of moms out there who are endorsing products on their blogs. I've already written about this stuff in my other blog so I won't rehash it here, except to say that, as you can see from those three posts, I'm not really feeling the whole blogging for money thing. Or I didn't think I was.

I honestly don't know, though--I mean, it depends how much money we're talking I guess. If I were able to make a reliable income blogging and do it full time, would I? Especially if my kids were little and it meant I could be home with them? If it meant I got stuff like free trips to Disney for the whole family and other free stuff and cool perks, would I feel differently? I'm kind of thinking yes.

What I do know is this: where there are women, there is drama. Rivalry. Cattyness. How could there not be? We're talking about not only women, but moms--the most judgemental population imaginable. Now in addition to criticizing each others' choices about parenting, breastfeeding and working outside the home, they can criticize each others' blogging styles and methods.

Honestly, it's better than TV.

The White House is Now a Black House

If you read this blog you know I'm obsessed with movies about black families. I love them--read that post if you want to know why. (Mimi is sitting next to me while I'm writing this, muttering "racist!" because I said "black families"--but you know I don't mean it like that.)

Anyway, I just heard that the Obamas are having a poetry slam at the White House tonight and I couldn't help but think that no white presidential family ever had stuff like poetry slams. Or comedians saying totally irreverent things at White House dinners.



Let me tell you this: if I could go back in time I would go back and reverse my stance on not voting and vote for Obama because he ROCKS. I stand officially corrected (go ahead and gloat, Beth.)

Calling All Worst Parents Ever: This Book's For You

Hey moms--despite your best efforts did you fail to earn Best Parent Ever status yet again this year? Not sure? Take a look at my Worst Parent Ever scale and see if you can hang with the WPEs. If you can, you'll probably want to read Ayelet Waldman's new book "Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace."

Ayelet Waldman earned herself a place in the WPE hall of fame when she admitted, in an article in the New York Times, that she loved her husband more than her kids. Oh, and that she actually enjoys having sex with her husband and they do it more than twice a year for his birthday and their anniversary. Her admission set the BPE world on fire and landed her on the Oprah show. Surprised at the fury her statement incited, she did what any WPE in her situation (e.g. smart and already famous) would do: wrote a book about it.

Talk about a genius idea for a book--what mom WON'T want to buy this book? After all, doesn't every woman, no matter how bad a mom she fears she may be, want to read about one who's worse than she is?

The Power of a Big Mouth

I'm thinking that it's probably time to move the post with the p-word down a notch, no?

I would say nothing much is new and/or exciting, but actually the past two days have been sort of exciting, in a if-you-call-this-exciting-you-are-pathetic kind of way, at least. Yesterday there was a flurry of twittering and blogging about a new association website--so I added my two cents. Within like 15 minutes of me posting the link to my post on Twitter, 150 people had clicked through to it. People tweeted about it, blogged about it...and now the CEO of ASAE is blogging about it.

Guess it's a good thing I didn't call the post "The Power of WTF" as I initially started to, right?

What if Your Personal Brand is Your P*ssy?

I've said it before and I'll say it again--I love Penelope Trunk. Admittedly, she gets a little nasty sometimes--and I don't mean nasty like dirty nasty, I mean nasty like mean nasty. If you ask me, girl needs some mood stabilizers, stat, but apparently her craziness is not only her charm but her dollar value--her investing model seems to be attract blog traffic by being outrageous.

One of her ongoing ways of being outrageous is talking about her, um, girl parts. Specifically the fact that she waxes her pubic hair. Her and every other girl under the age of 30, that is--or are younger girls now kicking it old school and leaving the pre-pubescent girl look to actual pre-pubescent girls? Anyway...she seems to get a lot of mileage out of using her pubic hair stories to shock readers, investors, her lawyer, etc.

At some point, though, isn't enough enough? Is it really that interesting, on an ongoing basis, to hear about the state of her hair-down-there--or lack thereof? Today she was at it again, on Twitter:

"Brazilian today. New person doing the waxing. I didn't request the wax woman I like best; seems too intimate to admit to having a favorite."

Past pubic tweets include "Living in WI makes me out of date: A NYC friend says "Do lasers, duh," when I tell her the waxer in WI leaves hairs where mouths should be" and "For 90 minutes I'm the productivity queen: 25 emails, 14 phone calls and one twitter. While I get waxed. Everything off. First time. Ouch."

Ok we get it--your pussy is bald. Now move on.

Encore Las Vegas

Rather than blogging about our experience at the Encore in Las Vegas, I'm just posting the email I sent in response to their "Hope you enjoyed your stay!" email.

I have to say that I was extremely disappointed during our whole stay at Encore. We are repeat guests at the Wynn Towers and have received outstanding customer service there. Encore was the total opposite. When we checked in on Friday, they made no mention of the pool being closed--we had to find out when we tried to go to the pool and were turned away. When we tried to go to the European pool we were told we should have been given a pool pass at the front desk and had to go wait another 45 minutes to get it. Then at the pool, even though the regular pool was closed, thereby making the European pool much more crowded, the pool staff refused to let guests use the "reserved" seating, even though it was ALL empty.

The hotel manager had promised to upgrade our room for the inconvenience but he didn't; when I called the hotel manager to ask why they were having to turn guests away from the European pool because there wasn't enough seating even though all the "reserved" seating was empty, she just connected me to the pool manager, who was unapologetic.

The whole stay underscored the fact that Encore is just a cheap Wynn look-alike that's all show and not at all about treating guests with respect or providing quality customer service. The reason we have been repeat guests at the Wynn is because they genuinely care about guests and if there is a problem, they quickly resolve it. Encore staff obviously have not been trained in providing quality customer service and it is grimly apparent that they have no idea how guests at a supposed 5-star hotel expect to be treated.

I'm sorry to say that we will not be returning to either the Wynn or Encore on future visits--which is a shame because up until now the Wynn was our favorite hotel.

I would also suggest that you make your staff aware that, given the ease with which people can share their stories about travel and their experiences with different hotel staff via social media, they give a bit more thought to the way they treat guests. Bad customer service is a lot more of a liability when one guest can now share a bad experience with millions of people via Twitter, Facebook and blogs.

Aside from the experience curing me forever of my obsession with the Wynn, we did have a great time with our friends and a fun time in general. The only problem is that, while I think I got slots out of my system for good, I was introduced to my new favorite experience: the European pool. European=topless. Now I never want to wear a top while sunbathing again. Think that would help or hurt our chances of getting into the pool we're on the waiting list for?

Decisions, Decisions: Botox or Kindle 2?

Sadly, Strattera didn't transform me into a normal person--unless normal means not being able to wake up and work out in the morning, not being hungry ever (which mitigates the not being able to work out part), feeling like you're going to pass out half the time and feeling stoned the other half of the time. And still not able to sit and read a book for hours. Oh well--so much for that--can't say I didn't try. Guess I'll just have to live the next 40 years of my life the same as I lived the first 40: multitasking and hyper.

Nothing much else is new, mostly because I've spent the past 2 weeks either at kid events or sitting on the sofa doing what Patrick calls "the death stare"--staring into space for long periods of time.

I'm having a personal crisis today. As I've blogged about before, I'm addicted to Botox. Sorry if that makes me not only crazy and hyper but vain and stupid, but it's the truth: once you've had a perfectly smooth forehead and no crows feet, there's no going back. Luckily for me, there are plenty of others who are equally vain and stupid, because it at least brings the price down slightly when you go to a Botox party as opposed to a doctor or medspa.

A "Botox party" of course being where at least 5 other people go get shot up at the same time, which means the doctor charges less because he doesn't have to open a new vial--each vial apparently needing to be used up or thrown out and each costing a fortune. Or at least that's what they lead you to think; for all I know Botox actually isn't more expensive per drop than life itself. Peddling Botox is probably more lucrative than peddling crack, at $20-$50 (or more) a "unit"--a unit being a microdroplet, of which you need about 50 or 100 to achieve numb perfection--I figure it's a pretty good racket.

At any rate, here's my dilemma. The Botox party is tomorrow...but today, when going to Amazon to buy next month's book club book--I saw this. The Kindle 2--perfect in every way--no more books to clutter up your life or weigh you down when you travel, wirelessly grab any book out of thin air for $9.99, etc--AND it reads aloud to you if you want. Which means no more having to spend 2 hours laboriously copying library audiobooks into iTunes then another hour figuring out how to load the thing onto your iPod in the correct order.

Anyway, the Kindle 2 costs $359. Outrageous--of course I'd never buy it. But wait. I'm about to shell out at least that much to iron out my forehead for 4 months. I never think about the money part of Botox--I save that money in a separate account and, 3 or 4 times a year, pretend I'm not writing that check for $400. Why don't I just not get the Botox and buy a Kindle if I want to waste $359?

After all, who the hell is looking at me anyway? I'm 40 and married and live in Olney, MD. It's not like I'm a movie star or even a news anchor--it honestly couldn't matter less whether my forehead has lines on it or not. But I'm telling you--once you've gotten it done once, you're done for. Even if they botch it and you end up having to walk around with one eyelid drooping like a stroke patient's for 2 weeks; it's like childbirth: you forget the horrible memories and want to do it again and again.

Then there's the peer pressure of the party--the more people that come, the cheaper it is. So I don't want to be the one who makes it cost more for everyone else, right?

Sigh. Maybe I will develop some self-respect and character by tomorrow and turn my nose up at vanity and Botox forever. Or, more likely, maybe I'll win $359 when I go to Vegas next weekend and use that to buy the Kindle 2. That's in addition to the $250 I already have to win to buy an iPod Touch, of course.

Gen Whine In The House

Yesterday I made the mistake of watching a video of Penelope Trunk giving a speech about Gen-Yers in the workplace. The same now-cliche stuff about managing 20-somethings: don't expect them to "pay dues" because they'll walk if they have to do grunt work like other generations had to; keep them motivated with treats or special incentives every day or they'll walk; don't hassle them if they seem to be doing nothing but listening to iPods and web-surfing all day or they'll walk. In short, treat them with kid gloves because they are so spectacular that we can't afford to piss them off. The rationale being that they're soon going to be overtaking the workforce so we better just let them have their way.

First of all, bullshit. As far as the whole "soon all the Boomers will be retiring" thing--I think everyone knows that is no longer a valid sentiment, what with the state of the economy. Anyone who was even close to retiring a year ago is now most likely looking at another 10+ years in the workforce before they might be able to even consider retiring. And second of all, bullshit--even if they do retire there are still droves of Gen-Xers who are unemployed and willing--not to mention well-qualified--to do the jobs Gen-Yers scoff at. After all, if you have a mortgage, a car payment, credit card debt, kids, a spouse, etc--you don't have the luxury of hiding out in mom and dad's basement until you find a job that pays six figures and consists of one never-ending brainstorming session while hanging out in a treehouse or some equally cool and laid-back work environment.

Enter the blog post that set me off on this rant. Penelope Trunk has a guest poster on her blog today--a 23 year old writing about why it's smart to quit a job after just two weeks of work. The crux of her rationale being, of course, the tenet upon which the entire Gen-Y work philosophy is based: living with mom n' dad. After all, 65% of new grads do it--so of course it's a good idea.

I digress about the rest of the post; you can read it yourself. And don't miss the comments--those are some of the best parts. Here's one of my favorites:

"I quit a job after two weeks too, but I don't believe the company felt I was doing them a favor. (I was, as indicated in the post.) They are not contemplative enough to consider the possibility that they did something - actually, many things - wrong."

Like forgetting the daily reward or making you spend time at the copier?
Wait--there's more:

"Companies are no more likely than individual people to improve their attitudes or practices when something negative happens."

The "something negative" of course being that the lazy, self-centered entry level person left of his own free will, thereby sparing the company the considerable time, money and hassle it would have taken to fire that person had they and their bad attitude stayed in the job.

Call me a bitter Gen-Xer if you want--I have no problem owning that. And I'm not even one to talk about sticking it out in jobs--I'm the first to admit my resume is filled with jobs that I stayed in for a year before deciding I couldn't stand it and found something better. However, one thing I can say is that I always found a better job, always had health-insurance paid for by me--not my parents--and moving back in with them was never an option.

I've asked this in previous posts: where has the stereotype of the adult loser who lives in his parents' house gone? Have 20-somethings never seen Wedding Crashers? Stepbrothers? Failure to Launch? Call it what you will: saving money, being prudent, giving yourself the opportunity to wait for the perfect job--the fact remains that being 20- or--god-forbid--30-something and living with your parents is nothing to brag about.

Not Feeling It

Wow--I feel bad abandoning this poor blog--there's nothing but crickets going on in here lately. Between working, writing in my other blog, taking care of kids, and spending time with Patrick, there just never seems to be any time left to write in here. Not to mention any creative juices I may have had are getting used up in less creative endeavors like writing about Twitter and Facebook.

Then--as if the busy schedule weren't enough to suck the life out of this blog--enter Strattera. It's for ADHD and supposed to make you be able to concentrate like a normal person; however, for me "normal" seems to translate into "lethargic and boring." Whereas before Strattera I was able to do 20 things at once, such as work, keep up with two blogs, read a million blogs a day, stay on top of gmail and work email--AND Twitter--now it's all I can do to plod through one thing at a time. Granted, I've only been taking it for a few days--hopefully I won't be forever stuck feeling like a stoned train wreck. Not to mention nauseous and with a horrible headache.

Even in my Strattera fog I am able to stay on-topic; however--I was checking out one of my favorite websites, Crazymeds to see if the wicked headaches I've been having are a side effect of the Strattera and realized that Jerod Poore--awesome creator of Crazymeds--refers to himself as a "citizen medical expert." In other words, FIO doctor. And the thing is that he totally rocks and is actually better, smarter and far more knowledgeable about meds than any doctor I've ever known.

In fact, Jerod Poore's expertise is the reason I'm on Strattera in the first place. I met with my doctor--who charges $120 for 30 minutes--and said I'd read about Strattera and it sounded like it would work for me. He got all excited and was like I think this would actually work really well for you, etc, etc. Here I've been going to this guy for several years, every 3 months or whatever, $120 a pop, and the way it always plays out is that I look something up on crazymeds and suggest it to him and he prescribes it.

Anyway, if you ever have questions about any psychopharmalogical substance, go see what Jerod has to say about it on crazymeds. I do have to say that the layout of the site is insanely bad, but it's worth weeding through the horrible navigation because nowhere else will you find such comprehensive, detailed reviews of every single crazy med known to man.

Weekending

This weekend I have been multi-tasking the relaxation--listening to an audiobook (Jodi Piccoult's A Change of Heart), reading Anita Shreve's Testimony, maxing out on Zuma, and basically logging in an embarrassing amount of sofa time. What, no movies, you ask? Please. Patrick and I saw Push on Thursday (I gave it about a 7.5; Patrick gave it a 6.5) and today I saw Confessions of a Shopaholic (Mimi gave it a zero (shocker) and I gave it about a 6).

The thing I liked about Shopaholic was that the whole thing centered around a girl getting her dream job basically by accident. Everyone couldn't get enough of the fact that she was a total bumbler with no knowledge whatsoever of finance, yet she became more and more successful just by being quirky and doing stuff nobody else was stupid--I mean daring--enough to do. Oh, and she had big boobs and showed a LOT of cleavage. And wore really short skirts and 5" heels.

Speaking of whores--whoops--sorry to dis the shopaholic girl like that--I'm watching My Super Sweet 16 with the kids now. This show is so horrible it's addictive. Two episodes ago I told them we could watch ONE and that was all...now we're on the third because it's so scary/sad/riveting. These girls are only barely 16 and look and act like Girls Gone Wild. Soooo depressing, especially considering that Mimi is almost 13 so it's only a matter of time until her friends start looking and acting like this. Notice I say "her friends" because there's no way in hell she's going to be dressing or acting like these girls.

Anyway, I better go--have to get ready for the next wave of entertainment: Desperate Housewives, United States of Tara and Secret Diary of a Call Girl.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Wow, I've been bad about keeping up this blog! Lucky for me, I already blogged about Valentine's Day last year so you'll have something to read.

Be back soon...in the meantime you can always catch some social media posts on my other blog, Mizz Information, and I'll also be blogging from a conference I'm going to in Miami next week.

I'm sure I'll be burnt out of writing about social media when I get back so I'll have to switch over to this blog for a while. Famous last words, right?

I Used To Be Way Funnier

I was just searching for an old post on this blog (or is it "in" this blog?) and realized something. I used to be way funnier. Now that people actually read my other blog, Mizz Information, and call asking if they can interview me for an article about associations using social media or if they can quote me in their upcoming article about, what else--social media--I have gotten in the habit of blogging almost exclusively about social media. Not there's anything wrong with that, of course--we all know I'm totally obsessed with social media so it may as well result in some kind of professional success, right?

But is it as fun to write--or read--about as Fourthmeal, yuppie sex or making boobs out of period blood?

The Real Reason I Love Social Media

In 140 characters or fewer, this is why I love social media:

@themediaishirin Helping laid off media employees find new work 140 characters at a time. Email us at mediaishiring@gmail.com

Reasons why this is awesome:

1) A 140 character resume as a serious way to find a new job? Hells yeah. You can't get more FIO than that, unless the world is reduced to communicating via meaningful glances or tongue clicks.

2) The name is really themediaishiring. But the dude either mistyped and left off the "g" or that was too long a username. Does he sweat it? Nope--in the awesome world of social media stuff like that just doesn't matter.

In traditional communications there are all kinds of rules: you have to have a journalism degree; you have to proof and edit and proof again--mistakes are forbidden; you have to use correct punctuation; you have to use italics and footnotes with subscripts and all that kind of stuff.

But in "new" media? Fuck that shit. Forget the "g" on the end of your name? Makes it more authentic. Italics? So old-school. Typos? Whatever--everyone knows bloggers are so busy furiously expressing themselves that they can't be bothered with editing or proofing. And don't even think of hiring someone to edit for you--that's a big no-no; again with the authenticity.

And times like now, when I started a post but have to be somewhere in 5 minutes so don't have time to think of a snappy ending--no matter.

Not.Feeling.It.

I don't know what's up with me--I'm just not feeling like blogging lately. Maybe because nothing interesting is happening lately? Or because I hate winter? I'm not feeling bad or anything--unlike my poor sister Cassie--just not very inspired to write anything interesting.

So I'm wracking my brains trying to think of something interesting and still coming up dry.

I'm trying to read several books right now--Amy Tan's Saving Fish From Drowning (it's good but apparently not that riveting, judging by the fact that I've been trying to read it for like a month now and am only on page 143); Elizabeth Buchan's Revenge of the Middle Aged Woman (again, ok but not great--but it is the prequel of a better book, Wives Behaving Badly) and another library book so uninspiring I can't even remember the name and am too lazy to go get it from the kitchen, where it's waiting to go back to the library since I've only read about 20 pages in the 3 weeks I've had it.

Wow--I'm boring myself just writing this so instead of continuing the torture for both of us, let's go to some commercial breaks.

Blythe: I can't decide if this is cute or just downright freaky:


Watching it again, I think I might have to go with freaky.

Kiddles: This is 90% hilarious and 10% emotional abuse against a child. Watch this and tell me you don't think the girl got the beat-down immediately following the taping of this video.



Am I imagining it or is the mom sort of sobbing at the end of the video?

Stuff Black People Like

Geez, I am slacking off about writing in here lately. Any blogging time I have seems to go to Mizz Information, since that blog actually gets read now, believe it or not. I started that blog last February and it had 18 page views that month; last month it was up to 496 page views. Twice in the past month I've had people interview me for print articles about social media and social networking--it cracks me up that it's possible to be an "expert" on Facebook and Twitter.

But I digress...

Ok, we all know a) how obsessed I am with Stuff People Like and b) how obsessed I am with black culture.

I don't know why it didn't occur to me to search for it sooner, but the other day I suddenly wondered "I wonder if there's Stuff Black People Like?" I Googled it and of course there is Stuff Black People Like. The first one I clicked was hilarious. I particularly liked Matching from Head to Toe and Beyond and Hair Styles. Then I clicked on "about" and realized the guy who writes it is white. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but somehow a white guy writing about what black people like just doesn't work as well as a black guy writing about what black people like. So I continued my search and found my new obsession: Cobb.

I will let you read and enjoy it at your leisure--and don't forget the comments! My favorite comment?

"I can't get enough of hot sauce. I put hot sauce on everything...even ice cream and pussy!"

Crickets
I'm just fresh out of things to blog about tonight, but didn't want to let a whole week pass without something going on here. So here's a liddle kiddle vid:


I wonder why there are so few Kiddle fans out there in cyber-world. There are tons of Blythe fans on Facebook and Blythe videos on YouTube.

Cassie, we need to get right on this and rectify this situation, don't you think?

Beauty Favorites

I know all of you have always thought "If Maggie is dumb enough to pay $500 for Botox she must spend a fortune on other makeup and beauty products." Actually, not true. True, I have tried many expensive products, but for the most part, over the years I have ruled out most of them in favor of cheap products that work just as well or better.

Ok--get your pens and paper out because I'm about to save you the trouble of trying a bunch of expensive products yourself and tell you what works.:

1) Avon ANEW ADVANCED All-In-One MAX SPF 15 UVA/UVB Lotion. It is light, doesn't make you break out, and contains glycolic acid and retinol, which correct sun damage and prevent further damage. Avon sells it for $16.50, but it frequently goes on sale. Also--and this applies for all these products--I always check ebay first because sometimes you can get the same product, brand new in the box--for way less on ebay. In this case it doesn't matter as much because it's pretty cheap from Avon, but it never hurts to check ebay first. With Avon products though, ebay usually isn't the best choice because you have to pay shipping and you don't if you buy Avon through your local Avon lady.

2) Dr. Perricone Neuropeptide eye cream. Ok, I'm already contradicting my thing about only buying cheap products--this retails for $195. But wait! The first time I bought it--and this is my gift to you--I got it from QVC because they have a "30 day or bottom of the bottle" guarantee. Meaning, you can buy it, pump it all into another container and return the empty bottle for a full refund. Before you damn me to hell, let me add that over the years I've bought a LOT from QVC, so I figure I'm entitled to a one-time free gift of some eye cream. I wouldn't do it more than once--come on, even I have a conscience. But all of you haven't used up your chance yet, so I forgive you in advance for doing it this one time. Anyway, if you don't want to go to hell over a bottle of eye cream, you can get it on ebay for anywhere from $20-$50, new and sealed. That's where I bought it after I realized I couldn't live without it after the free QVC trial. It works so well it's actually worth $195 and, if ebay didn't exist, I'd have to pay $195 for it because I haven't found another eye cream I like as much. Avon has a few that are also good, but in general, anything too creamy just makes the puffy bags under my eyes worse. Yes, even creams or gels that say they're specifically for getting rid of puffy eye bags.

3) Genie Instant Line Smoother. Ok, if you don't want to do the QVC try-and-return with the Perricone eye cream, you should definitely do it with this because this is a product that truly requires a try before you buy. I bought it wanting to just try it, and figured I'd be returning it because I doubted it actually worked. I have to say that, aside from Botox, this is the only other thing that honestly makes a visible difference--granted for puffy eyes, though, not wrinkles. If they invented the injectible equivalent of this I would do it, but sadly, it's the cosmetic equivalent of Cinderella's glass shoe--transforms when it's on, but once you wash it off, your eye bags are back. I would buy it from QVC the first time to make sure you like it, then look for it on ebay for less. Unfortunately, you can't find it for a lot less than the QVC price of $29.95, but it's always worth a look.

I should back up and say that I use this Genie line smoother for my eye bags--not for all over my face. I swear to GOD it works like a miracle--it honestly either fixes the bags completely or at least makes them 75% better. Even Patrick admits that it works.

Whew, this is tiring--guess I have a lot to say about beauty products. How about I leave it at this and next time cover face cleanser, night lotion and acne medicines? Then I will move on to cosmetics. Gives you something to look forward to and gives me at least 2 no-brainer blog posts.

Spawn of FIO

Mimi (aka Wednesday--my preferred name for her) was going to a birthday party today. I asked what she wanted to get the girl for a present. Her answer?

"I'll just give her some cash."

She insisted that buying a gift card is a waste of money--you have to pay $3 or whatever to activate it.

Clearly, she's inherited the FIO gene from me--or, I should say, the gene formerly known as FIO and now known as "Green."

• Why put a lot of thought into picking a gift; after all, who is better qualified to pick the perfect gift: the gift giver or the recipient? That's a lazy and inconsiderate way of thinking about it, right? Wrong! That's the green way of looking at it. Do you really want to saddle the gift recipient with not only a gift he/she won't use (wasting resources) but with the carbon footprint that unwanted gift left in its wake: the driving to the store, the manufacturing of the product, the lights in the store, etc? Of course not.


• Sure a gift card is neatly packaged and does, after all, contain the word "gift." But A) it costs more than its cash equivalent and B) it adds unnecessary waste to the planet. First there's the cardboard wrapper, then the nasty plastic card itself--destined for the landfill as soon as the recipient uses it. Cash might be tacky, but there is no wasted packaging when you hand someone a $20. And you saved yourself $8--the $3 you would have had to spend to activate the card and the $5 more than $20 you would have had to spend because Visa or AmEx gift cards only come in increments of $25.

In the end, though, I insisted Wednesday give the girl a gift card, not cash, so I did leave the carbon footprint to the store and back, spent $25 instead of $20 (plus $3 to activate it)--and the supermarket cashier felt the need to put the cardboard-sheathed plastic card inside not just one but TWO plastic bags--a small one inside a bigger one, even though the only thing the bigger one contained was a bottle of Diet Pepsi and a pack of gum.

What would a BPE have done in this situation? On one hand, no self-respecting BPE would ever have their kid show up at a party with anything less than a Martha Stewart-esque wrapped gift with matching bow and card. Then again, don't BPE get bonus points for being green?

Eco=FIO

After much deliberation, I still haven't come up with a comprehensive list of resolutions for 2009, so I'm settling on just one: this year I'm going to become more "green."

The beauty of the green lifestyle is that much of it is just a way to turn what is really a bunch of fuck it off (FIO) ways into something admirable and PC. If you think if it, doing what's right for the environment is, in many cases, just the same as being cheap and/or lazy.

Examples:

1) Gift wrapping. Only enviro-haters who want the earth to turn into a fireball buy fancy paper that's sole purpose is to envelop a gift already boxed or otherwise packaged for a few minutes until it's disdainfully ripped off and thrown in the trash. The eco-friendly way to wrap a gift is to use newspaper or, better yet, just hand it to the recipient unwrapped and explain to him or her that you're being eco-friendly and forgoing wrapping paper. You will score bonus points for being green, and will have saved yourself not only the expense of wrapping paper, bows, tape and a gift tag, but the chore of actually wrapping the gift.

2) Holiday or Greeting Cards. So you forgot to send a friend a birthday card, or didn't feel like shelling out upwards of $25 for cards (who am I kidding--most people purchase custom-crafted holiday cards that cost several dollars each; the sky is the limit because, after all, Christmas only comes once a year!)? Should you feel like a rude, forgetful slacker? No! You should feel like an eco-hero, because you saved not only the money for the cards and postage, but the trees that would have had to die for that card and of course the carbon footprint that card would have left on the planet: the gas for the mail truck, the machines that process mail--it all adds up, you know. Instead, you can just send an email saying happy birthday (or holiday, or whatever)-I just saved a tree in your honor by not sending you a card.

3) Personal grooming.Showering: wastes water and necessitates the purchase of shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and whatever other accoutrements you personally like to add to your shower or bath experience. Deodorant costs money and contains harmful, cancer-causing aluminum and is encased in earth-killing plastic. God forbid you use the aerosol kind--don't even get me started on the carbon footprint and health hazard that is aerosol anything. Ditto toothpaste. Instead of wasting time, money and effort showering and grooming daily, limit showers to once or twice a week (hey, Europeans do it so it must be great), skip the surfectant-laden shampoo and other cleanser and buy a big slab of eco-soap that does double duty as shampoo and body wash. Skip toothpaste--baking soda on a finger is good enough and saves the landfills from being filled with used toothbrushes and empty toothpaste tubes. And so on--basically the dirtier you are, the closer to the earth you are, right?

Ok, actually, after writing #3 I realized that there's no way I can ever go green--I am way too vain and lazy to ever become an eco-vigilante of that magnitude. I'll stick to not wrapping gifts or sending cards and exploring the world of luxury organic grooming products from my friend's online store, Organically Happy. I do admit that I have recently tried two eco products and was pleasantly surprised that they turned out to be better than their chemical-laden equivalents: Filthy Farmgirl Royal Almond handmade soap and SensAtia Grapefruit & Avocado Body Balm.

Well, here's to another year of living the FIO life and loving it!

*Moral of this post: don't write a blog post while you're watching TV; I've already had two people point out typos and/or grammar mistakes in this post.

FIO Movie Recap 2008

Didn't get to the movie theater 50 times in 2008 like I did? Fear not--here are my reviews so you can plan your Netflix queue accordingly.

In an effort to stay true to this blog's FIO theme, I'm dispensing with any (ok, almost any) commentary and sticking to two categories: sucked or rocked. All caps means it REALLY rocked or sucked.

First Sunday--sadly, sucked
Cloverfield--rocked
Untraceable--rocked
The Eye--sucked
Step Up 2 the Streets--rocked
The Bank Job--rocked
Horton Hears a Who--sucked (can't compete with original)
Meet the Browns--don't really remember but I'm going with rocked
21--ROCKED
Flawless--can't really remember but I seem to remember it was good, so rocked
The Ruins--sucked so bad it rocked
88 Minutes--rocked
Forgetting Sarah Marshall--ROCKED
Deception--ROCKED
Baby Mama--ROCKED
Iron Man--rocked (Patrick would put that in all caps; it was his best movie of 2008)
The Strangers--ROCKED
Sex and the City--rocked
Zohan--rocked
Kung Fu Panda--rocked
The Happening--didn't totally suck but didn't really rock either
The Incredible Hulk--rocked
Wanted--rocked
Hancock--rocked, even though it got horrible reviews
The Dark Knight--ROCKED. Heath Ledger BETTER get the Oscar for it.
Step Brothers--ROCKED. Mimi's favorite movie ever--except for Baby Mama.
American Teen--SUCKED. This was the WORST movie of 2008. How do you make a documentary about teen angst boring? Well, this person did.
The Pineapple Express--ROCKED HARD. Started a heated dispute between Patrick and I; I SWEAR in the preview one guy says "It smells like pot's vagina." Patrick maintains he's saying "God's vagina." I'm sticking with pot's vagina, even though in reality he does say God's vagina, because pot's vagina is funnier.
Tropic Thunder--ROCKED
Death Race--ROCKED
Traitor--ROCKED
Burn After Reading--rocked
The Family That Preys--rocked
Lakeview Terrace--rocked (although verging on sucked)
Body of Lies--rocked
Righteous Kill--ROCKED
Semi Pro--SUCKED. Not funny at all; total disappointment.
Street Kings--ROCKED
Vantage Point--rocked
Transporter 3--basically sucked
Twilight--sorry, but SUCKED
Quantum of Solace--ROCKED. Too violent my ASS--it was awesome.
Four Christmases--ROCKED
What Happens in Vegas--ROCKED
The Day the Earth Stood Still--sucked
Benjamin Button--rocked (notice that isn't all caps; it wasn't that great and was VERY LONG)

Best movie of 2008? I'm going with Righteous Kill. How can you top De Niro and Pacino together?

It's Omos Christmas

I don't have time to post right now but just wanted to say I'll be back within the next few days with several exciting posts:

1) Top Movie of 2008. Patrick suggested this and I love the idea--we're going to go through every single movie that was out in 2008 to remember what we saw then pick the winner.

2) New Years Resolutions.Self explanatory.

3) Guest post from Wednesday.I am going to try to bribe Wednesday to write a post. Hopefully it will be as good as Matthew's post. (I was going to link to it but can't find it now).

Ok, well Wednesday is telling me I "do too much blog" so I have to sign off now.

Twitter in Real Life and My Fimlmaking Debut

Prepare for awesomeness:

Rash

Patrick (otherwise known as the best husband in the universe) is slaving away with our friend, Keith, creating a custom-built closet for us. Keith is like me--gets on a jag with something and can keep going for hours. Well, except that he has actual talent--woodworking (besides being an MD)--and my main talent is obsessively sitting in front of a computer. Anyway, my point is that they're still working away and it would be too rude for me to just go to sleep while they're slaving away to build me this fancy closet.

Meanwhile, I'm having some kind of allergic reaction and my body feels like it's on fire itching and burning like crazy. Keith looked at me and told me my skin is "mottled"--I guess it's like a rash but not bumps--and told me to take Benadryl. So I had to take it, yet I can't fall asleep because they're still working.

So what's a girl to do to entertain herself and stay awake? Blog, I guess, since even I'm getting tired of reading my own tweets. That's one thing about Twitter--it's kind of depressing, if you think about it--it's the equivalent of just spouting off random 140-character comments to yourself, most of the time to no response or anything.

Here's the thing: if you're doing it in writing using Twitter you're cool; if you did the same thing out loud to yourself you'd be schizophrenic. Someone needs to make a spoof video of that the same way they made that great one about Facebook in real life. Someone just walking around, muttering 140 character tweets to themself. I thought I was bad but there are some people out there who are pretty pathetic with the amount of tweeting they do. I won't name names but there is one social media huge wig who, in addition to being a very prolific blogger, is on Twitter CONSTANTLY. It's to the point that it's uncomfortable to read it because he's just rambling on and on and on and on.

Kind of like me now. Sorry--that's the benadryl typing.

Happy Holidays!

Click "play" and wait till the ad ends (a few seconds) then enjoy the awesomeness of the online holiday photo card, from us to you!

Make a Smilebox greeting

Facebook Offline?

This video is hilarious and, frankly, kind of makes you feel like a moron if you're on Facebook.

Entertainment Recap

I realized it's been a while since I've posted about books, movies and/or TV shows.

Here are some recent favs:

1) The Zygote Chronicles by Suzanne Finnamore. A while back, I posted about another one of her books, Split, and, while I thought it was ok, I was sort of underwhelmed by it. The Zygote Chronicles, though--that's another story. This book is incredible. I don't know if it's just because reading has become such a novelty to me lately or what, but I was just transfixed by this book. You need to read it and tell me if I'm just crazy or if it really was as awesome as I think it was. It also totally changes my perspective as far as Split goes--I now understand why she was so swoony and obsessed with her husband.

2) Mad Men. Maybe 6 months ago, after hearing my mom, sister and another friend rave about some mysterious show, Mad Men, I decided to see what all the hype was about. I came in about mid-season 2 and was hooked. Now I'm watching season 1 and it's so good it's crazy. Basically the entire show consists of a bunch of guys lounging around a Manhattan office, chain-smoking, constantly chugging drinks, and telling the "girls" how they should be dressing to best accentuate their "strengths." (read: tits and/or ass.) All I can say is this: if you haven't seen it, you need to either buy the whole thing and load it on your iPod, or at least rent the DVDs or something--whatever you have to do, just watch it.

3) Movies:

• Transporter 3--I gave it a 3: one point for the fact that Jason Statham is hot as shit, one point because the girl he's with is adorable with red hair, freckles and the bluest eyes you've ever seen, and one point because the driving is awesome. If you know me, you know that if I give a movie a 3, it's horrible. Patrick also gave it a 3, but that's a pretty good rating for him.


• Twilight--since we saw it on he heels of seeing Transporter 3 it was pretty good. I give it maybe a 5. Again, not a great rating for me, but not horrible. I forget what Patrick gave it and he's asleep on the sofa next to me now so I can't ask him; I believe if I were to ask him he'd say he gave it a 2 or maybe a 3. Just FYI--a bit of Patrick movie trivia for you--his most hated movie is Bug.


• This Christmas--I blogged about this awesome movie last year, and it was no less awesome the second time around. I said it then and I'll say it again now: black Christmas is a lot more festive than white Christmas.

America, You Should Be Ashamed

First there's Thanksgiving--the holiday where Americans are supposed to take the day to feast and reflect on all we're thankful for. Then comes "Black Friday"--the day we're all supposed to get up at 3am to start the holiday buying frenzy. You know, because we're in a recession and everyone's either lost half their net worth, their job, or their house--or two or more of the three--and we are all supposed to go spend a ton of money we don't have to fix the economy.

These patriotic citizens were SO enthusiastic in their pursuit of righting the economy by spending money at Walmart that they collectively killed an employee.

This is my favorite paragraph in the story:

A Wal-Mart worker was killed Friday after "out-of-control" shoppers desperate for bargains broke down the doors at a 5 a.m. sale. Other workers were trampled as they tried to rescue the man, and customers shouted angrily and kept shopping when store officials said they were closing because of the death, police and witnesses said.

I could say a lot more but will let you savor the story yourselves.

Excellent Thing One Million and One About Facebook

If you read this blog you know of my love for/obsession with Augusten Burroughs. If you don't read this blog: I LOVE Augusten Burroughs and am obsessed with him. The ONLY negative thing I have to say about him is that his website is an absolute usability cluster fuck--I must say that it's quite possibly the worst website I've ever seen. The only one that I can think of that may be worse is Ass Matrix--a totally crude site so I'm not sullying my blog by linking to it (if you're thinking of checking it out and are reading this at work, I'd advise you to wait until you're home because it is sort of, um, pornographic--but hilarious).

At any rate, I was checking his page out to see if he has a blog--the jury is still out on that one because I can't tell if what's on there is actually a blog--and saw that he says he'll answer questions on his Facebook page.

Naturally I went to find his page and can't believe it--he honestly does interact on a regular basis with his fans. I'm sorry but in what other way would millions of people be able to have direct access to an author and/or celebrity (he is, of course, both) on an ongoing basis? Maybe, MAYBE you could be lucky enough to have him come to your town and do a reading or something ONCE and get him to answer a question, but otherwise--forget it. Now you can go on Facebook, ask whatever you want, praise him, whatever--and he is there, in all his awesomeness, responding to people?

Score another point for social media.

I'm Baack!

Geez, long time no post. I was away on a business trip--the good part of which was that I was with my sister, Cassie. It was fun to work a meeting again--I hadn't done one in a few years. This was a convention with 12,500 attendees--probably at least 10,000 of whom were young 20-something girls who all looked like J Crew models. I definitely felt 40. Luckily, I got home Saturday night and Sunday at 5 pm was Botox.

Remember my strip mall Botox doctor, the one who wanted me to do marketing for him in exchange for free treatments? Unfortunately it turned out that what any intelligent person could have told me was true: strip mall Botox is no good. He may as well have been injecting saline that maybe sat next to Botox during shipping, because it lasted all of about a month--if that. So it was back to the regular Botox party with the guy who uses enough to render your face expressionless for a good 4-6 months.

For the uninitiated, a Botox party is when you get together a group of ladies and all get injections together--it's cheaper that way because the doctor doesn't have to open a vial to shoot up one person then have to waste the rest. The funny part to me is that half the women there don't tell their husbands they get Botox. They all had to come up with stories about why they were running out for an hour and a half at 5 pm on a Sunday night. That and then showing up at home with a bunch of little welts all over their faces. Not to mention $400 missing from the checking account. But I digress...all I know is that my wrinkles are vanishing as I type this.

Speaking of you, Cassie--did you know I tagged you to do 5 fun facts about yourself? Better get to work on that; even Penelope Trunk responded.

And speaking of Penelope Trunk--who, yes, I blog about almost as much as I blog about Stuff White People Like and Augusten Burroughs--had a good post last week that dovetails with this post and my last one.

Stand By Your Man...So He Can Step Over You When He Leaves You Destitute?

If you read this blog you know I'm big on forming opinions and recommending books before I've read them. In that vein, I'm about to have an aneuyurism about this book before I've read it so naturally need to blog about it.

I'm still reading Leslie Bennett's The Feminine Mistake and am even more obsessed with it than I was after the first time. I don't see how you can argue with her advice. Granted, it's a bitter pill to swallow--namely, that women shouldn't give up their careers to stay home to raise their kids. It's a message that I'm not entirely comfortable with; after all,I stayed home with my kids for 8 years.

However I am the first to admit that, while am grateful I had that choice for the sake of my kids, I am also the first to admit that Bennetts is right; while it was good for my kids to have had a mom at home with them, ultimately, it's more important to have a mom who is able too keep them in a home--and fed and clothed--in the first place. And you can't do that in the long run if you don't have a job, a pension (or 401k) and enough years in the workforce to accumulate enough Social Security credits to be eligible to receive benefits in your own right when you retire. (After all, can you really bank on the fact that a woman "may be" eligible for Social Security benefits as a result of her husband's work?)

Maybe it's because I was dependent on a man and experienced where that got me that I'm so passionate about this subject. It is incredibly easy to convince yourself that you will never have a financial care in the world as long as your man has a job. After all, millions of women do it, right? But what about the fact that millions of women also get divorced or become widowed?

While most people would never dream of going without car or health or home insurance, women don't think twice about the fact that opting out of the workforce for any appreciable amount of time (or maybe even any time at all) is a far riskier choice than going without insurance. The thing about going without insurance is that it doesn't matter until it matters, at which point it's too late to go back and get that insurance after all. Same with being financially dependent on a man--if you haven't worked in 5, 10 or more years and your husband leaves you or dies--or you leave him--you are, in all likelihood, screwed.

Sure, there's child support. All $384 a month of it in my case. I defy you to provide food and shelter for your kids on that. You get the house, right? Nope--not unless he either gives it to you outright or gives you use and possession for a few years, during which time you probably still have to pay the mortgage. Well, if you have to sell the house you get half the profits, right? Sure--if you actually make a profit--which, in this economic climate isn't anywhere near a given. But he has family money--you get half of that, right? Nope--anything he came into the marriage with is his and his alone and doesn't figure into the 50/50 equation.

Alimony--forget it, as far as being a long-term solution. These days it's restorative alimony only; the law no longer considers women to be incapable of supporting themselves and therefore needing or being eligible to have their ex-husbands support them even after the marriage. And so on...you get my gist. Fine, then--I'll just get a good lawyer and make him pay. Got $50,000 of your own to spend on litigation if you haven't worked in years?

Still think having a man is the only financial plan you'll ever need?

Enter Beside Every Successful Man: A Woman's Guide to Having It All, "...a guide for helping one's man achieve success (and, thus, get one's own in the process)."

I have to stop here and go purchase this book to see if it is actually as ignorant as that little synopsis makes it sound.

Tis the Season

I'm trying to muster up some creativity and/or motivation to write anything at all but am just coming up dry. Winter sucks. I just read some article in the Washington Post about a new treatment for depression using a big magnet; alas, it costs $6,000 to $8,000 and I'm sure insurance doesn't cover it.

Well, since everyone knows that laughter is the best medicine (well, other than Xanax) but I'm too blah to go search for something new and funny, here's one from the Motherwhatnowredux archives:

What's the WPE Quotient on This One?

Those of you who already read this blog know what WPE means (not by virtue of your own parenting, of course); if you're new, WPE = Worst Parent Ever. As opposed to Best Parent Ever. Naturally I am a BPE. Wink.

I've been meaning to blog about this for a while but working, freelancing, writing my other blog, playing computer games--oh, and of course, parenting--take up a lot of time and sadly, Motherwhatnowredux often doesn't get the attention it deserves. It used to be that nobody read Mizz Information so I didn't pay too much attention to it. Now, though, that I'm an official social media nerd, actual social media people read that blog--and even write about it. Or mention me by name (I'm the Maggie you're supposed to tweet congrats to--even though I did nothing but let viral networking do its thing--I'll take the kudos anyway).

Anyway, though, back to my original point: WPE. You've all probably heard of "safe haven" laws that allow true WPE--the ones that put their newborn babies into dumpsters or try to flush them down the toilet--to do the leave-the-baby-in-a-basket-on-the-hospital-steps-and-run without penalty thing. Safe haven laws allow true WPE to become the ultimate BPE--the kind who put the health and safety of their kids above all else.

At least, that's the case if we're talking about newborns. Nebraska, however, says why limit it to newborns? Raising a kid--and, mind you, in Nebraska "kid" means anyone up to the age of 19--is a hard job and sometimes you have to just throw in the towel. That hormonal 12 year-old girl getting on your nerves? Drive her to Nebraska and drop her off at any hospital--no harm, no foul.

My favorite part of this whole story is this quote, by Nebraska Sen. Arnie Stuthman:

“The main interest I have is that it gives the mother or a parent another option of what to do with a child before they do something drastic.”

Drastic like, say, driving the kid to Nebraska and abandoning them forever?

Fock the Vote

I didn't vote.

There, I said it..and believe me, I debated about saying it--or about blogging about it at least. How pathetic is it that in this great free country of ours I seriously had to think twice about making the fact I didn't vote a matter of the public record. We all know the possible ramifications of posting drunken photos of yourself on Facebook or other personal-yet-public acts that could potentially tarnish future job prospects...maybe admitting you're a non-voter is just as bad? Or worse?

I'll tell you this much: people sure have strong feelings about it--just check out the comments on Penelope Trunk's "Did you vote today?" post. Why is it with the issue of voting people feel so free to get in your face and tell you how it's basically a crime not to vote--either a crime or something only a moron wouldn't do? It would never occur to me to care whether or not someone voted--why would anyone care if I do or not?

I didn't specifically mean not to vote--had there not been a line at the polling place this morning I would have cast my vote for Obama (had I voted I would have voted for Obama...so if he doesn't win I guess I'm personally responsible) and gone on with my day. Maybe even gone to get my free donut at Krispy Kreme, some free coffee at Starbucks and then some free ice cream at Ben & Jerry's. But there was a line, so I figured I'd just go back later.

Then I was driving home and it was pouring and I really wasn't feeling the idea of so much as parking my car and walking into the school--let alone waiting in any sort of line. It was then that I realized that if such petty stuff was making me dread going to vote, voting is not actually that important to me. Looking for validation, I logged onto Facebook and searched for "didn't vote" thinking surely there would be some group of thousands of non-voters to justify my decision.

Yes, there is a group: League of Non-Voters...with 85 members. Surely there are more than 85 non-voters to offset the 4,265 members of "Rock the Vote."

All I know is that, as ambivilent as I was about voting, when I read the description on the League of Non-Voters page, I realized it isn't about the lines or the rain--I am actually making a conscious decision not to vote. That description sums up exactly how I feel:

"This group is for everyone who is tired of being sold out by politicians, tired of the "lesser of two evils," the unconscionable lies, the fancy suits and expensive dinners, the photo ops, the cardboard patriotism, the war that neither party will end, and the closed political universe that banishes any real possibility of change...This group is the party against politics and for a truly democratic future."

THAT is a sentiment I would have stood in line to endorse.

I'm writing this post with my phone so if it works I'm going to be super psyched--as will you, readers--because I'll be able to blog even without a computer.

The kids and I are in Chicago visiting my siter and her family. Unfortunately my poor little niece is sick, but at least we got to spend some time together today and hopefully she'll be feeling better tomorrow. Meanwhile the kids and I are at a Holiday Inn and the kids are in hog heaven because I let them watch Stepbrothers. My status as a WPE has now been etched in stone, as a hotel employee came in to set up a cot while we were watching it and it happened to be the part where someone says "fuck" a bunch of times. Great.

Anyway, we're having a fun time-except for my niece being sick. I'm telling you--WPE or not, I must have done at least something right because travelling with the kids--even without Patrick--is a breeze (knock wood). Not one word about "when will we be there?" on plane. In fact, pretty much not one word about anything.

Well, time to hit the sack and get a jump-start on my extra hour of sleep night.

The Best Part of Blogging--Free Books

I recently read Crazy Love by Leslie Morgan Steiner. Yeah, that's right--if you clicked on that link you saw that the book won't be available until March 31, 2009. How have I already read it then? That would be because I've discovered that getting bloggers to read and blog about your book is apparently a new trend among publishers, because this is the second book I've scored as a result of saying "I'm a blogger--can I have a free copy?" Who ever said that blogging is a stupid waste of time?

Anyway, I have to say I had mixed feelings about the book. It's about Leslie Morgan Steiner's horrible first marriage to an abusive guy. Taken as a whole, the book does provide great insight about why women stay in abusive relationships. Even though she was from a rich, waspy family, her self-esteem was sufficiently in the toilet to keep her wedded to a guy who damn near killed her.

The thing that kept me from really liking this book was the fact that she makes such a big deal about how she was from this rich, waspy family. She constantly refers to her privileged upbringing and how, in spite of it, she was doing drugs and screwing around starting when she was like 13, then had a huge eating disorder, then was married to this crazy wife-beater. Maybe this is small-minded of me to say, but it's kind of hard to feel sorry for someone who, in the course of telling the story of her life as a battered wife, refers incessantly to Harvard, summer house, money, private school, money, Harvard, waspy parents, summer house, Harvard, private school...oh, and did I mention Harvard? Trust me--she mentioned Harvard.

Yes, we get it--even though your life looked perfect it wasn't. The thing is--we still kind of hate you for your charmed life, so our level of sympathy for you isn't sky-high. Or maybe that's just me being a bitter bitch and anyone else reading the book would feel more sympathy towards her. Like I said, though--overall it's an inspiring story about beaten down wife getting a business degree and becoming a huge success and finally being able to free herself from the abusive relationship. The thing is, something about the dynamic of the "I grew up rich and privileged, then went to Harvard, then went to business school, then made a ton of money in high-power jobs, and now am famous and writing a book" is less compelling than say, a person who grew up poor or stupid THEN went on to become rich and famous. You need the first part of the equation to get the feel-good thing going; without it it just comes off as gloating and "yay for me!"

Take a movie like Pursuit of Happyness. The reason it's a total tear-jerker and near-perfect movie is that it has that whole "success in the face of extreme adversity" theme going on. It wouldn't be nearly as good a movie if he'd been raised rich and privileged, then done a brief stint on the streets, then gone to business school and become rich and famous. Oh, and had his dad pay for business school.

Anyway, my point is the book was good and I would definitely recommend it, but it had a little too much of a "don't hate me because I'm beautiful" vibe for my taste.

Blog Action Day Results=I Win For Most Shameful

If I thought my post on Blog Action Day was FIO when I wrote it, now I feel even worse. Or, to be honest, I can't really say "worse" because I'm personally still laughing about it, but I know I should be feeling ashamed that I'm probably the only one out of 12,800 bloggers who didn't do a tear-jerker or violin-playing worthy post.

Oh, well--at least there were 14,052 other serious posts so mine won't upset the karma scale too much.

Crazy Successful or Just Crazy, Redux

A while ago I blogged about the connection between the entreprenurial spirit and just plain old manic depressive (I'm still searching for the post to link to; feel free to browse my archived posts and find it yourself). I was reminded of it yesterday when I read another totally random Penelope Trunk blog post.

Penelope Trunk is the poster girl for the "is she crazy successful or just crazy?" theory. I love her but the girl is just all over the place. If she were reading the stuff she writes live I guarantee you the audience would be sitting there going "huh?"

Ostensibly, all her posts relate to career advice. Sometimes she actually writes career advice. However, more often than not, her posts are about pubic hair, autism, eating disorders, volleyball--you name it, I'm pretty sure she's woven it into a career advice post at some point. (And yes, I did mean to link to that search page for "volleyball" to illustrate how many different ways she's woven the fact that she used to be a professional volleyball player into her posts.)

I'd be willing to bet cash money that Penelope Trunk is bipolar--yet not only has it not hurt her career, it's actually the reason she is as successful as she is. A "normal" person would never take the risks she takes--and, therefore, would never be able to get rich telling the world about her naked pubes and college vomiting habits.

My point? She rocks.

Blog Action Day, FIO-Style

Today is Blog Action Day, "an annual nonprofit event that aims to unite the world’s bloggers, podcasters and videocasters, to post about the same issue on the same day." The point? "...to raise awareness and trigger a global discussion."

Anyway, the point is to blog about poverty from whatever perspective you want. Naturally, what you write should be compelling, moving and inspiring--after all, we're talking about poverty, which is, of course, no laughing matter.

I know I'm going to hell but, as I've been growing increasingly anxious over the past few days about what I'm going to say about poverty, the only thing that continues to come to my mind is: Poverty is bad. Which then of course brings to mind this clip from South Park; watch it and, whenever he says the phrase "drugs are bad" just mentally substitute "poverty is bad."




If this is not the most FIO post about poverty EVER, I don't know what is. But hey--the rules say that the best thing a blogger can do to spread the word on Blog Action Day is to "use the style, personality and topic" your audience is used to to talk about poverty. Seriously.

The Feminine Mistake, Redux--Again

I blogged about Leslie Bennett's The Feminine Mistake a few weeks ago, promising to re-read it and blog about it. I'm still trying to finish Madame Bovary (reading it again because I just read Tom Perrotta's Little Children and it's part of the plot of that book and I decided I needed a refresher) and a few other books but I promise I will get to The Feminine Mistake soon. In the meantime, check out the thoughtful comments to that post. I was going to respond in the comment section but figured I may as well just post it here so people will see it.

The book is very black and white, which is why it inspired such strong feelings in me—as much as I wanted to think she was too much of a hard-liner, the stories she told—while extreme—were too close to home for me to ignore. Granted, I was never destitute—far from it—but I was dependent on a man and trapped in a horrible marriage because of it. I never want to be in that position again.

If nothing else the book points out that as much as people like to think that something could NEVER happen to them, there are no guarantees in life. Women who would swear on their lives that their marriages were perfect are blindsided by their husband announcing one day out of the blue that he wants a divorce. Husbands who seemed healthy as horses drop dead with no warning, or sustain debilitating injuries or illnesses that render them unable to work again. Yes, it’s melodramatic to think about it but it happens. I have witnessed it happening, in fact—and too many times to insist that it could never happen to me.

I know a woman whose husband had an accident and is now—and will forever be—a child, cognitively-speaking. Actually, I personally know two women to whom this exact thing happened—what are the odds of that? But it happened. And divorce horror stories? Each one I hear is worse than the last—women with autistic children whose husbands divorce them and leave them without a home or money and then sue for custody of the kids even though he’s unable to care for them; women who hadn’t had a care in the world for 15, 20 or even 25 years suddenly penniless and without health insurance or a car; women who spent the past 20+ years living in huge houses and hanging out at the country club being reduced to having to stay with friends because she can’t even afford an apartment. I’m not exaggerating one bit, either—these are real people who I know, and I’m just one person who lives in a small-ish community. If I can tick off these stories of women whose lives have been totally shattered because they assumed they would never have to worry about supporting themselves, you know there are thousands—millions—more just like them.

But there’s child support, you say—if my husband left he’d have to pay child support and alimony and I’d get to keep my house. Nope—not always the case—not even close. Or life insurance, if, god forbid, he died. Again, not necessarily true.

The part that freaks me out is that you just never know—for all anyone knows, any given woman will never have to deal with any of this stuff and not being able to support herself would never impact her at all. The thing is that if something does happen, once it’s happened there’s no going back and re-writing history. It’s the same as insurance—if you don’t have it and end up needing it, you’re basically screwed.

The bottom line is that, while the book wouldn’t have made it any easier for me to have worked and put my kids in daycare, I don’t know that I could have read it and still been a SAHM for 8 years. And trust me, I was—and still am, to a large degree—a “Don’t have them if you won’t raise them” kind of person.

Best Doll Ever: Blythe

How is it that I've lived for 40 years totally unaware of the most awesome doll on the planet?

Hand Me That Cell Phone So I Can Call CPS

Yikes--just when you thought talking on your cell phone was ok as long as you're not driving a car, speech pathologists (like my sister, Cassie) announce that talking on your cell phone while with your kids can have "serious consequences." Namely, delays in language development. While there's apparently not much research proving it, SLPs are seeing an increase in speech-delayed babies and toddlers that they feel is linked to the fact that, if a parent is on the phone, they aren't interacting verbally with their kid. Fair enough.

Ok, so you better get all your talking done before you have the baby, then--right? Wrong. A recent Danish study found that the children of mothers who frequently used a cell phone during pregnancy were 80 percent more likely to have emotional, social and behavioral problems, including hyperactivity.

Does this mean I can stop feeling guilty for never calling anyone back?

Apparently I Kick Ass

I'm totally drained from an afternoon of shopping with the kids so I'm just doing a quick check-in so you don't all think I've dropped off the face of the earth.

The big news of the day is that my other blog, Mizz Information, is now on Alltop, an "digital magazine rack" that features "all the top" sites on the web. My blog is featured in the social media section. Social media, of course, being all my nerd stuff like Twitter, blogging, Facebook, etc. At any rate, I'm psyched because maybe now that my blog feed is on Alltop I may actually attract more than 4-ish readers per day. And if not, I at least get to post this nifty logo on there:


So yeah, if you add that to the $1.98 I earned from Amazon Affiliates program (those ads for Amazon on this page; if you click them I earn like a cent or something) I'd say this could qualify as a banner day in my blogosphere.

And now Martha Stewart is having a contest on her blog--basically in exchange for including a link to her blog on yours she will (allegedly) review it and, if she decides it's worthy, post a link to it on hers. Somehow I don't think that she'd consider this blog very "Martha" but who knows--stranger things have happened. So in that spirit, notice that I have added a link to her blog to my blogroll.

Dinner calls....but stay tuned for my post about The Feminine Mistake, which I know all of you are also reading.

Is She Really Mistaken?

I don't have time to write what my British friend, Jane, would call "a proper post" so I figure I'd do the FIO thing and re-purpose an old post. It's AS IF I were writing this post now because I am, yet again, getting ready to read The Feminine Mistake: Are We Giving Up Too Much?

I read it a while ago and remain obsessed with it because, as much as people dis Leslie Bennetts' ideas--including me, in theory--I can't help but think that ultimately she's right. In case you don't want to read the book I'll give you the FIO synopsis: women should never quit working to stay home with kids, no matter how much money their husbands make, because there are no guarantees in life and if he dies or leaves you, you're SOL.

I'll save further comment for later, after I (and, of course, you) have read it again.

Poem

I want to say I understand this poem by Matthew Zapruder--and actually sort of do--but mostly I'm like "huh?"

Matthew Zapruder is a friend of mine from back in the day. He is crazy smart--not only a poet but a poet who translates Romanian poems.

Maybe if you're lucky I'll try to unearth one of my poems from way back when I wrote stuff more creative than blog posts about social media or Augusten Burroughs.

You thought I was off him, right, since I haven't written about him lately? Think again--I am still his #1 fan and am obsessed with him. However I do have to say that the redesign of his website is so bad it almost makes my eyes bleed. I could write a dissertation about how bad and why it sucks--but because it's Augusten I'll reserve comment.

Score one for this complaining soccer mom

Remember my infamous soccer rage rant from last fall? The one that spurred me to write this comment on the local paper's website, which ended up being published in the print version? Which led to this "Open Forum" that mainly consisted of people ripping my "sweeping indict of the nature of games at OBGC" (the local boys and girls club)? Which then led to me writing this response, which they ran in the paper, which led to this email to me from the Executive Director of the club, which led to THIS tirade (yes, she wrote it in RED) of an email? Then finally this response from OBGC to me, again in the paper?

Then, just when we were all thoroughly bored with the subject, The Washington Post published a blog post I had written way back before the whole saga even started. By that point I pretty much never wanted to talk or hear about the issue again--after all, in reality I couldn't care less about my kids playing soccer.

Anyway, a friend recently emailed me telling me that apparently the whole saga had been productive because, lo and behold, OBGC has announced a new, stricter Code of Conduct policy.

Guess the Executive Director's red, angry rip-fest at me wasn't, in the end, warranted after all. Guess I wasn't the only one who thought their policy wasn't strict enough; after all, why would they be making such a big deal about their newly strict policy?

A love song to Twitter?

I never thought of this post as a "love song to Twitter" but the clever folks at Ragan.com added that headline and featured one of my blog posts on their homepage today.

I May Not Be White But I Am a White Trash Mom

Remember my abysmal score on the Stuff White People Like quiz which revealed that I am only about 10% white? Well, curiously (or not?) I think I may qualify as a white trash mom, based on just this one question on the White Trash Mom quiz--"Fakin' It for the Bake Sale."

In fact, I go one better than even bothering to try making it look like I actually baked something; when asked to contribute to a class party or bake sale I have no shame about plunking down an unopened box of Entenmann's cookies. Think the grandma in "Sixteen Candles" with the box of donuts, attempting to open it with a knife (or was it a long, fake fingernail?) while deftly clamping a cigarette between her lips.

I don't smoke, though--does that make me less of a white trash mom?