Sidney Holler

Poor Sidney Holler.

I am beside myself.

A week or so back I noticed that she had a small lump. Jay made a vet appointment for her right away. They didn't seem to think that it was too much but did a biopsy.

Today we got the results and it's a malignant tumor that they'll need to remove asap. Also, we never had Sidney spayed. Mostly this was because it's an overnight procedure and she's so small and needy and scared. I imagine her in a cold, metal crate with no blankets and my heart shrivels up like a raisin. She's never exposed to boy dogs so I didn't see any harm in holding off on it. They said that dogs who aren't spayed are more prone to cancer because of the hormones. So, they'll remove the tumor and spay her together.

She'd better be okay.

I will have a nervous breakdown if something bad happens to Sidney. She is pure joy for me. I love her as if she were my child.

Something That Concerns Me

I wasted two hours of my life last night watching Sex In The City 2. Is there a more annoying character than Samantha? Her awesome wardrobe and fantastic figure simply do not compensate for the fact that she NEEDS TO SPEAK LIKE THAT!

But here is something that concerns me even more:

When did Sara Jessica Parker become Bette Midler?

To the left it's Better Midler in The Rose.

To the right it's SJP in Sex in The City.

I rest my case.

I think that I'm going to start doing "more" with myself.

Lately I've been feeling not-so-foxy. I was asked out at work on Friday and blushed with disbelief that anyone would be so silly as to want to ask me to do anything. I just feel... OLD... and reptilian... and fat... and BLAH. I feel like a big, obese crocodile with poor eye sight and bad hair.

Okay, the reality is this: there is nothing that I can do about my hair. Anyone who has ever grown her or his hair from super-short to super-long knows the mushroom place where my head will be for the next six months. It sucks. But, I knew what I was getting into and I'm simply going to have to see past my mushroom head and imagine the beautiful, luscious, long, pantene pro-v hair that I'll someday have. With any luck, 2011 will see another pregnancy and I'll have the growth support of pre-natal vitamins.

I think that I"m going to make a true effort to put on a bit of make-up each day. Not a ton. Just a bit. And maybe buy a few new, nice clothes? Get some new frames. Take more bubble baths. Paint my TOE NAILS. Use body butter every day. Pluck.

I am just tired of feeling like a turtle (the kind you see at the zoo. Not the kind in Chinatown).

On The Menu

Jay is on his way home from Buddy weekend. He left on Thursday morning and is on the train heading towards Philly now.

Our stove has been broken since that dreadful day last week when it began expelling thick walls of fat, black smoke throughout my home. Today, I really wanted to make a nice, big, all-day-cooking meal. I decided to use the self-clean option to remedy the situation and it worked. Of course, I had to open all the windows and turn off the heat and leave with my kids for several hours... but, when we came home everything was closer to fine.

I treated us to some fancy Whole Foods groceries. I got the ingredients to make chicken Parmesan and stuffed salmon with spinach, feta and pine nuts. I'm going to steam broccoli and make spaghetti too. For dessert I made heart shaped Rice Krispy treats in the muffin cups that my friend Meghan sent to me.

Mmmm... delicious!

Dirty, Guilty Secret Pleasure

You probably know how much I love Sangria. After all, if I'm not drinking it, I'm planning to drink it. And if I don't have it in my plans, you can usually bet that I have the flu or I'm "watching my carbs."

Recently, I discovered the BEST Sangria recipe ever. I had never made it with Triple Sec or Brandy before and have to admit that I worried that spiking my alcohol with hard alcohol seemed alcoholic like a bad idea and screamed REALLY BAD HANGOVER to me. In the end, it was just fruity, perfect, light and delicious. If you're a Sangria lover, give that recipe ago!

There is just something about a lovely, big, fruit filled glass of Sangria. It's like juice for grown-ups. OR it's like wine if wine went on a vacation to Spain and traded in it's Christian Lacroix's for a pair of platform flilpflops made by Jessica Simpson.

Agreed?

Here is what only the closest people to me (and the guy who works at the South Street Wine and Spirits store) knows about me. Franzia makes Sangria IN A BOX and it's the most delicious beverage in the whole, entire world. Generally, I'm too embarrassed to buy my wine in a box so I make Jay do it, but he's away on a Buddy weekend and today is Saturday. I wanted to run my errands, come home, cook and cook and cook and clean my house from top to bottom and then relax with a glass of Sangria. I could spend $60 and make my own, OR I could spend $12.99 and have a box of it in my fridge for awhile.

It's so good.

On a completely separate note:

the girls and I were out to brunch with M this morning and our waitress looked at my children, looked at me and said, "Are you twins? Is this your Aunt?"

It's weird having children who do not look anything like you. Bunny looks more and more like Jay as she gets older and Lila looks just like my sister.

Same Idol Different Judge

I'm half way through the new American Idol with its fancy, famous judges.

It's exactly what I expected.

Now, I'm a long-going AI fan. I know that it's cheesy and I know that it's skewed and I do not care. If you know me than you know how much I love pop-culture and it doesn't get much more carbonated than Idol. Also, I've never met a singing competition that I didn't love. Admittedly, I am a bigger fan of X Factor and I'll, without a doubt, be counting the days till it premieres next year. But, until then, American Idol is like a big, syrupy, sweet, non-caloric January treat.

And this season is no exception.

I got really caught up in, "Who can fill Simon's shoes?"

The answer, of course, is NO ONE.

But, I am completely in love with Steven Tyler in the exact same way that I was completely in love with Brett Michaels. He's a weird, old, rocker guy who fancies himself a hot tamale and I think that he's got staying power. I also really like the fact that he reminds me a little bit of Paula Abdul. And, I fucking LOVE me some Paula Abdul. As for JLo, I think that she's a good addition to the team. She's fun and spunky and likable. She's not at all pretentious and I get the impression that her stint on AI makes her feel "connected" to the common folk. Now that I write it, I guess that is pretense defined. But, whatever. I like her.

Poor Randy. I don't even know what to say about him. Same old Randy. Less Dawg... and I get the sad feeling that his eyes have become bizarre, lifeless, mirrors of shallow heartlessness. But he's the one guy from American idol who still has a job. So kudos to him and his hefty paycheck, I guess.

I will definitely be tuning into American Idol this season. I'll let you know how it goes.

Flood, Poop and mysterious black smoke

I had the weirdest day yesterday.

I woke up to a seemingly normal day and didn't initially suspect that any catastrophic, bizarre, environmental disturbances had zoomed in on my immediate life and chosen it as a target.

I was up for about 2 minutes when Jay texted me that the school had a 2 hour delay. I glanced out the window and into our backyard. Everything looked pretty much the same as it had the evening before. So I asked for what? He said, "ice and snow." Low and behold, when I walked to the front of our house and looked at my car, I saw that it was completely encased in a thick coating of shimmering, solid ice (that I would later chisel off).

So, I enjoyed a bit of a lazy morning and then drove the girls to school. I also had to drive to work (which I could get used to if it weren't so expensive to park for the day). When I got there T was outside, looking frazzled and told me that there was a very bad flood in the basement. K also was there. She accidentally came in early, which worked out really well. T asked her to go down to the basement and scoop up the water with a DUST PAN and put it into a bucket and then run the buckets upstairs and throw them in the gutter. Her poor little feet were soggy, shriveled (I'm assuming) ice pops by the time she was done. Then, this poor girl asked me if we had a plumbing issue or if it was just a flooding issue because of the rain. I thought that it was just the rain. So she wanted to use the bathroom and I didn't think that there was any problem with that.

Boy was I wrong!

And there was poop. And water. And a stinky green earth store.

She was likely embarrassed so she didn't tell me. I had to discover it the hard way (via scent) and then talk to her about it and deal with it... which was embarrassing for everyone. And I could tell that she was irritated because she asked if she should use it and I said yes (how was I to know)!

But worst yet, when I asked T what to do... he said that she should SCOOP everything out of the toilet so that the store doesn't smell. I sort of felt like this was my responsibility... but I COULDN'T. Even in my own home I do not deal with the poop. I mean, I am fine with the poop of my children because I grew my children in my body and I love them. If I did not grow you in my body and I do not love you, I am not okay with your poop. That's that. So, I had to tell this poor girl that she had to get buckets of her poopy toilet water out of our store. I thought that she was going to quit right then and there.

I went to Starbucks and bought her a candy bar, a cupcake and a large tea to ease her spirits and promised her that this was the worst of the worst and it would never be this bad at our store again.

When I got home I began making dinner. I wrapped a few potatoes in tin foil and put them in the oven to bake. As the oven was heating up I noticed a horrible smell was coming over my entire house. It smelled chemically, like burning plastic. I opened my stove and dark, thick, black smoke came pouring out. Immediately I felt like I was being poisoned. The smoke was coming from beneath the stove. I have no idea what the route of the smoke was, but I had to open up all of my doors and windows to let it out and I went to bed with a headache.

We ate pizza.

I am never using the stove again.

Ever.