Book Recommendation

This is absolutely the best book I've read in years. Just read it. Trust me.

One-Word Meme

What's a meme, anyway? Hang on while I go look that up on Wikipedia...

Well that didn't help. But according to Answers.com a meme is a "unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another."

So in other words, it's just an opportunity for us to talk about ourselves.

Lately my attention span has been that of a flea, so I'm choosing a one-word meme this time. Short and to-the-point sounds good to me.

You’re feeling: conflicted
To your left: father-in-law
On your mind: haikus and NBA playoffs
Last meal included: shrimp
You sometimes find it hard to: stop thinking
The weather: gorgeous!
Something you have a collection of: rubber stamps
A smell that cheers you up: frying bacon
A smell that can ruin your mood: bell peppers
How long since you last shaved: a week (before you think I'm gross, I've gotten laser hair removal on my legs and underarms. It was worth every last penny.)
The current state of your hair: Loreal Natural Match 5W
The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer): Nikon camera
Your skill with chopsticks: decent
Which section you head for first in a bookstore: Christian fiction
Something you’re craving: another Spurs playoff championship
Your general thoughts on the presidential race: Liar liar pants on fire.
How many times have you been hospitalized this year: none
Favorite place to go for a quiet moment: hot shower
You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good: comedian
Something that freaks you out a little: back hair
Something you’ve eaten too much of lately: dark chocolate M&Ms
You have never: eaten an oyster
You never want to: eat an oyster

I tag Stephanie, Megan, and Amy Soup (who hasn't written a bloody thing in months!). Go to it, girls.

Now I Know How Huckabee Felt

Clearly I'm not cut out for politics. Last night I was ahead in the haiku contest, but right now I'm losing by 200+ votes. Darcie's campaign team has got a seriously good grassroots effort going on.

I'm trying not to let this bug me. It's a silly haiku contest, for crying out loud! But I like my poem and I liked briefly dreaming what I'd do with the money. An extravagant pair of Bedhead pajamas and another Compassion sponsorship were the frontrunning thoughts, by the way.

So if you haven't voted and you like my poem, head on over there and click by my name. But I'm not going to pull an Obama and start repeatedly calling everyone I know because that's just annoying. (But if you want to get the word out for me, I'd appreciate it.)

I'm a Finalist!

Shannon over at Rocks in My Dryer is hosting a little haiku contest. The challenge was to write a haiku about motherhood. It could have been sweet, sincere, or, in my case, sarcastic. As I've always said, sarcasm is my spiritual gift.

Vote for me! The winner gets a $1000 debit card!

[Insert Cuss Word Here]

Remember last August when a bottle of balsamic vinegar broke on my pantry floor?

It. Happened. Again.

Really, I don't have the words to express how incredibly frustrated/angry/annoyed/etc I was when the bottle broke this morning. But one choice cuss word emitted from my mouth in front of my 8-year-old daughter. That's some fine parenting there.

I contained the spillage and spent the next hour cleaning the pantry, all the time wondering if God was punishing me for not going to church this morning. I don't think He plays that way, but I wondered.

All I know is balsamic vinegar is my kryptonite.

Where's My Brain?

I used to be a smart person. Really. I was valedictorian of my junior high. My mom will vouch that I was recruited by MIT for college. The words "some assembly required" do not intimidate me in the least, even when they're written in Chinese.

Yet somehow I've turned into a complete idiot. Apparently my brain has either somehow shrunk in size or removed from my head entirely.

Case in point: Yesterday I went grocery shopping at both Costco and HEB. When I got home I quickly unloaded all the Costco groceries because there were frozen items and I didn't want the tempura shrimp to thaw. See? I'm smart like that.

But today I was making dinner for my friend Amy when I realized I couldn't find the linguine. And then it dawned on me -- I'd left the HEB groceries in the back of the van. I quickly tried to remember what I'd bought as I walked out to the garage. Carrots? They'd be safe. Dried pasta? No problem. But when I looked into the trunk of my minivan I discovered a bag containing two containers of Contadina Light Alfredo Sauce, which I also needed for the recipe I was making. At $3.79 apiece, I'd just wasted nearly 8 bucks.

(Kevin, you can stop shaking your head now. I can feel your contempt from the other room. Seriously -- stop it.)

So now I have to waste more time and gas to drive to HEB and buy more Alfredo sauce. Oh, and don't think I wondered whether the Alfredo sauce would still be viable. What was the temperature last night? Isn't cheese pasteurized? Refrigeration is overrated, right? But in the end I decided not to risk poisoning my friend. I'm sure Amy is breathing a sigh of relief this very second.

There are many, many more examples of my brainlessness, but I'm more interesting in the WHY of it all. And I've come to the conclusion that it's all my kids' fault. I firmly believe that my IQ dropped 10 points with the birth of each child. If I'd had any more kids, I would have become the Forrest Gump of San Antonio. Only dumber.

This is the real reason we're not having any more children. My OB/GYN warned me about my boggy uterus, but I think in my idiocy I must have misunderstood her. Yes, now that I think about it (which is difficult when you're brain has been replaced with oatmeal), she must have warned me about my boggy brain. I think the official Latin term is Cranium Gonemissingum. Or something like that.

So if anyone discovers a cure for this horrible medical condition, can you let me know? I'll be wandering the aisles of HEB trying to remember what I was supposed to buy.

Update: I drove to school with the plan to give Amy her meal during carpool. As I pulled into the carpool lane, I realized that I'd left the meal at home in my refrigerator. You can stop laughing anytime.

Update #2: Amy just called me and asked, "Was there supposed to be pasta?" Yup, I forgot to put the linguine in the bag of goodies.

I so want this day to end.

Real Beauty

Today I came across this video, which is just brilliant.  The irony is that today I have a RAGING pimple on my left cheek, the size of which I haven't seen since college.  I was feeling very self-conscious about my cheek, but the flaws on this model's skin actually made me feel better.  We're all flawed; some of us are better at applying makeup.

What most fascinated me was the elongating of the model's neck.  Is an Audrey Hepburn neck considered more attractive than a standard neck?  I have a longer neck than average... I guess I should be grateful?

It seems to me that all this beautifying is downright lying.  It's no wonder I have self-esteem issues when every magazine photo I see has been airbrushed and Photoshopped to death.  I can't compete with a computer program.

Nor can I compete with the women who have opted to spend thousands on plastic surgery.  This false pursuit of perfection is one of the reason I moved away from Los Angeles, but the perfection mentality has infiltrated and taken over San Antonio, too.  I see it every day at the gym, the kids' schools, even grocery shopping at HEB... ridiculously skinny women with silicone bowling balls on their chests whose hair is meticulously coifed and whose outfit cost more than my mortgage.  And then there's me, who right now is wearing non-designer workout clothes and an ill-fitting baseball cap because I haven't had time to shower yet.  (Hey, even I know better than to go out in public with a serious case of bedhead.  But throwing on a hat takes 10 seconds, while the coifed women postponed their errands until they'd showered, moussed, styled and sprayed.  And I don't have time for that.)  

So here I am, with all my perceived flaws.  I have cellulite, thick ankles, an unusually large posterior, a size 34-A chest, a huge zit on my cheek, and a spattering of gray roots.  And you know what?  I'm going to keep telling myself I'm beautiful because I'm REAL.