Statler and Waldorf Return

Given the lack of publicity, you might have missed the fact that my husband has a movie coming out today. Don't worry, I haven't seen it either. He doesn't read my blog, I don't have to go see his little movie in any timely fashion.

For a different version of "Superman Returns," click here.

I find Statler and Waldorf with the new voices a little painful to watch, but the video store bit is cute.

And yes, It's still Wednesday. And it's still flippin' happy.

Midweek Update

My New and Improved List of "Things I Hate":

1. Being Sick (anyone know the symptoms of Bird Flu?)

2. Ants (the bugs, not the movie)

3. Avocados

4. Ants (the movie)

5. Celine Dion

Happy Wednesday.

Hey Baby!

A VGFOTB (Very Good Friend of the Blog) had her first baby on Sunday, a bouncing baby girl weighing in at 7 lbs, something (my mom was sketchy with the details).

Welcome to the wonderful world of motherhood. Since the next time the VGFOTB will be reading this will likely be around 3 am when the baby won't go back to sleep and she's sick of Conan O'Brien reruns (they lose something on the third viewing), let me be the 8,463 person to offer you some parenting advice.

Two things pop to mind:

1. When the baby sleeps, you sleep. Especially during the first six weeks. F**k housecleaning, cooking and showering. God invented grandmothers, takeout and deodorant for a reason. And no matter how many times you shower, you're still going to smell like baby barf anyway, so why bother?

2. That thing they probably told you in the hospital about cabbage leaves? Yes, it's weird, it smells funny and you probably won't even consider it unless you're desperate, but it does help.

Happy Tuesday!

If It's Friday, I Must Be Home

Hello everyone. If anyone still cares, I'm back. Was on deadline and then in New York for a few days to attend a conference. Woo-hoo. I know, my life so exciting. You wish you were me. Some days, I wish I was me too.

A few random thoughts from two days in the Big Apple:

* If you're a scrawny middle-aged white guy and your hairline is receding into the middle of your head, dreadlocks down to your waist is not a good look.

* But if you're a good looking twentysomething black guy, it's very sexy.

* Little old Scottish people are cute.

* If you're waiting in the cab line at the Javits Center at rush hour and the line is insanely long, if a car service driver offers to take you to your destination immediately, just go. Don't think about the buttrape price, just go. I waited an hour and a half for a cab, and eventually gave up and went with a car service for the same price I had turned down an hour earlier, because I wanted to save a few bucks. Which was stupid, because I was on an expense account. I know, I'm a loser.

* I really like New York best late at night when the streets are quiet.

* A flat screen TV with HDTV in your hotel room isn't so hot if (a) the hotel doesn't have that many channels and (b) the damn thing needs to be rebooted by the hotel's IT department every time you turn it off.

* Finally, a public service announcement: If you see someone dressed as Shrek, it's not the real Shrek. Do not get so excited that you make a running start toward Shrek, bear hug Shrek and almost knock over Shrek. It doesn't matter if you're a Japanese tourist. This will not please Shrek's posse.

* As I type this, I'm very, very happy to be almost home.

Happy Friday.

The Circle of Life

The husband and I had planned to stop at two children. However, after careful reconsideration, we've decided to have a third child, who will be born in Namibia. No matter what the gender, the child will be named Sham A Lam A Ding Dong, which is Scottish for bop shu wop.

We'll sell the rights to the first photos for $10 million dollars a pop.

We're registered at Target.

Happy Saturday.

For One Thing, I'm 97% Less Plastic...

Just saw the new Lois Lane "Barbie."

It looks nothing like me.

Stupid Mattel.

Happy Thursday/almost Friday.

Arrrrah!

Some people I like.

Others just make my brain hurt.

I just encountered one of the latter. God, how I wish I could elaborate.

Happy Wednesday.

The Ladies Man

(Scene: A Local Playground)

Mom: Okay Jak-El. Time to go. Say good-bye to your new friend.

Jak-El: Bye!

Little Girl: Bye.

Jak-El: See ya’ tomorrow!

Little Girl: I’m not coming here tomorrow.

Jak-El: Okay. See ya’ tomorrow!

Little Girl: I’m *not* coming here tomorrow!

Jak-El: Bye! See ya’ tomorrow!

Little Girl: I’M-NOT-COMING-HERE-TOMORROW!

Jak-El: Okay… Bye-bye!

Little Girl: Bye.

Jak-El: See ya’ tomorrow!

My kid. Three years old and he’s already an annoying little dope like his dear old ma’, trying to annoy people just for the sport of it. God, how I love him.

Happy Tuesday.

Trains, Planes and Autointoxication

In case anyone's checking in, nope, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. It just feels like it, between work, kids and life in general. F**king life, always getting in the way...

Went to New York on Friday, where I was a Very Important Person, doing Very Important Things.

Okay. Actually, I was a Very Bored Person, sitting through Very Boring Meetings. But I did get to ride on Amtrak, and who doesn't enjoy the glamour of rail travel? It's always such as pleasure on a Friday evening to sit next to someone talking loudly on their cell phone for about 45 minutes straight.

My seatmate was blabbing about some project she's involved in concerning the Las Vegas Airport. I didn't think about it until later, but if she's so keen on keeping the airline industry healthy, why the heck was she on the train?

I'm guessing it was for the booze. Those little overpriced bottles of horrid white wine are divine. When I'm on Amtrak I always buy an extra to bring home for Jak-El. Nothing calms down a hyper three-year-old like a little hooch before bedtime.

Yeah, I know it's irresponsible. But he's just a kid. I promise when he's four and has developed a more sophisticated palate, I'll buy him better wine.

Happy Monday.

Would *You* Like To Be On My List?

About nine or 10 years ago, the husband and I were having dinner with my mom at Mee Sum, a Chinese restaurant in Fall River, MA.

It was a Sunday night and we were the only customers in the joint. We’re sitting there enjoying our plates of Fall River-style chicken chow mein (no other type compares), when in stumbles a very scruffy looking midget (little person, dwarf—you decide what’s the politically correct term o’ the moment).

He surveys the empty dining room and decides to, of course, sit in the booth directly across from us. The guy is clearly completely wasted. It’s pretty amazing that he found his way into the restaurant, much less is able to speak coherently enough to order food.

He then turns his attention to our table and says hello. We reply and continue eating. Now, my mom is obviously horrified at the very sight of this little man. The husband and I, well, at the time we were living and working in New York, and riding the subway daily. This didn’t even register on our weird-o-meter.

The guy starts talking about how he’s best friends with Howard Stern and just went to his movie premiere. We don’t believe him, but play along. “Yeah?” I said. “Howard seems like he’d probably be a decent guy to know.”

“Oh, Howard’s great,” the midget says. “He’s on my list.”

“Your list?” I ask.

The guy then pulls a very tattered list out of his pocket. On one side is “People I Like.” Howard was indeed there, as was Billy Barty and a lot of other names I can’t remember. On the other side was “People I Hate.” I don’t remember any names from that side, beyond that he told me many of them were other dwarfs/midgets he knew.

About two months later, I’m falling asleep listening Howard Stern’s E show on television. I suddenly hear a familiar voice that Howard identifies as “Hank, the Angry Drunken Dwarf.” Yep, it was our Chinese dining pal.

I was thinking the other day about Hank, who died a few years ago. You have to admire his focus to keep such a list. If I tried to do so, I could fill the “like” side with people or things that make me happy very easily.

The “hate” side is very tricky. Sure, its easy if you put down people or things that just about every rational person hates, like Hitler, racism or the Yankees. But there are many people who I just consider a pain in the ass and don’t want to deal with. And many things that are annoying, but I can peacefully coexist with. Hate, to me, is a very, very strong word.

After careful consideration, I’ve compiled my own list of Things I Hate:

1. Avocados
2. Celine Dion

I’d put Celine first, but I tend to encounter avocados more in my daily life.

What do you hate?

Happy Thursday.

Happy Tuesday

Tomorrow is 06/06/06.

If there's an apocalypse, I don't plan on posting any future entries.

Well, at least until Thursday.

Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head

I'm on deadline at work for the next few days, and since they actually pay me to write, I should probably focus on my articles that are due instead of this blog.

Of course, if someone wants to pay me to write this nonsense, I'll gladly quit my job.

Conversely, if someone wants to pay me to *stop* writing this nonsense, I'll entertain offers. I live to serve.

Happy Sunday.

I Think This Line's Mostly Filler

Any "Buffy" fans out there who've seen "X-Men: The Last Stand"?

During a pivotal scene towards the end, was I the only one waiting for Wolverine to say that he loved Jean anyway he could get her, even "yellow crayon breaking Jean?"

Happy Saturday.

Hey, I changed the look of my blog...

...to match my new Capri pants!

The Key to World Domination

So, you want to thwart your enemies, eh. Good for you!

“But Lois, where do I begin?” you might be wondering.

I’ll tell you what to do. You get them a cute baby.

No one can get anything done while toting around a cute baby. An army of cute babies could bring a nation of despots to their knees.

Women get a taste of how babies can bring your day to a halt when they’re pregnant.

“Hi. Can I have a decaf, nonfat, grande latte please?”

“Ohhh! Congratulations! When are you due?”

“Thanks. October. How much is that?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! Your first?”

“No, my second. I have a 2 year old son. This one’s a boy too. Do you take debit cards?”

“Oh, two boys. You’ll have your hands full. Do you have a name picked out yet?”

“We’re not discussing names with anyone prior to the birth. I’m sorry…I’m in a bit of a rush. I have to get back to work…”

“I have two boys and a girl. Patrick, Devin and Melissa. The first two pregnancies were easy, but the third—oh boy, did I have hemorrhoids! Boys are so much easier than girls. My Missy, when she burned down the high school cafeteria, wow, was my husband angry…um, what did you want again?”

And the corker is you can’t just tell them to f*%k off and make your damn coffee, because pregnant women are supposed to be glowing and jolly, like Santa with swollen ankles.

It only gets worse after the baby arrives, because now the baby is working in concert with the rest of the world to thwart you.

Yesterday, Dan-El awoke an hour early from his nap. To thwart me, of course. Since I knew I’d be able to get no work done for the next 90 minutes until the sitter arrived, I foolishly thought I’d be able to make a quick trip to the mall to pick up some summer clothes.

Quick. Yeah, I’m an idiot.

I drove to the mall, found a parking space right away, loaded the tyke into the stroller, zoomed to the store and at lightning space tried on the clothes I’d seen in the catalog that I wanted. I waited in the short line to pay and then everything screeched to a halt.

“Will that be cash or—oh, he’s adorable!”

“Thanks. Store charge. Here.”

“He’s so cute. Are you gonna smile for me? Are you gonna smile? Oh, come on, give me a smile. What about a smile?”

Dan-El looks at the woman like she’s a moron.

Then another saleswoman has to get involved.

“Oh, what a cute boy you are? Are you gonna smile? Is that a smile? Are you tired? Is it time for a nap?”

The baby looks at the second goo-goo-ga-ga-er like she’s an even bigger moron than the other saleswoman.

“No, he’s hungry. We’re both hungry, in fact. As soon as we leave we’re going home for lunch.” Like an idiot, I think this will clue them in that we want to get out of the place and, oh, go home to eat lunch.

Nope. This goes on for a few more minutes until the woman finally starts ringing up my order, pausing between scanning each item to talk to the baby.

I get home a half hour late.

Cute babies. Our nation’s secret weapon.

Happy Friday.

And She Used All My Conditioner…

I was going to write a longer entry about this incident. But it’s not much a story to begin with, and truthfully, wouldn’t be any better with more details, and only waste more of everyone’s time (including mine).

I’m not sure why I need to share this, other than to vent about what my life has become.

So here it is. You’ve been warned.

My cat took a shower with me this morning. She didn’t just peer behind the shower curtain, like usual. Or jump in and out quickly like she sometimes does. Nope. Today, she followed me in and sat there for the entire shower, occasionally looking up as if to say, "hey, why are we getting wet?”

I officially have no privacy left.

See? I told you it wasn’t much of a story.

And folks, I can see the salacious comments about this coming from a mile away. So if you're going to make such as comment, for God's sake, at least be original.

Happy Thursday.