Friday, June 27, 2008

Stalk Me

I'm a very nosy person by nature. I love to look in people's windows at night to see what their house looks like or what they're watching on TV. I don't want to quit smoking because otherwise I'd have no good reason to sit on my porch and see what's happening in the neighborhood many times during the day and night.

I've finally spent enough time on Twitter to put it on my Myspace, Facebook and right here on my blog. You can also sign up to get updates when I update what I'm doing. I don't lead the most exciting life but hey, if you're nosy like me, it's a good time.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Kickin' it old school style

Yes, they are jelly shoes, the same shoes I wore about 25 years ago. But they're back, and have been back for awhile.

I found them at Target in the bargain bins for $2.50. I couldn't pass up reliving my childhood for $2.50. If I could just find enough jelly bracelets to go up to my elbow and the mesh bow hair things I'd be totally stylin'.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Enough, Big Dora!

Is it me or is the Vonage commercial on ALL THE TIME? I've hated it since the very first time I saw it. The phone company guy is bland and vapid. Then there's the Vonage lady.

I don't know why, but she bugs the shit out of me. Maybe it's because she looks like a big, grown-up Dora the Explorer. Maybe it's because she's ugly and annoys me to no end.

It's most likely because no matter what TV station I seem to be watching, the commerical is ALWAYS on. It's stupid and annoying.

If you Google, "Vonage lady" there are a lot of bloggers that are apparently in lust with her. Ugh. Gross. Give me Progressive Flo (sounds like a tampon commerical) anyday. At least she's witty.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008


This was forwarded to me from my brother-in-law. It is from a Philadelphia newspaper. Read it, then at the end is my e-mail to Mr. Ford.

Bob Ford: Red Sox Nation: Scourge on the country

By Bob Ford Inquirer Sports Columnist

Someone find M. Night Shyamalan and get him down to Citizens Bank Park tonight. There's a horror story to be told. I see people. I see annoying people. I see annoying people wearing blue hats with a red B on the front.And they're . . . they're . . . everywhere!Yes, it is the seemingly annual invasion of the denizens of Red Sox Nation. (Motto: In Us We Irritate.) It is a nation whose currency is based on being cloying, self-important, pompous, overly loud and, regrettably, ever-present, and the economy is great.

Axis of Evil? You make your list of nations that belong and I'll make mine.Once, there was something appealing about the passion that Boston fans brought to the team that had broken their hearts on such a regular basis. The Red Sox played their home games in a quirkily interesting, if decaying, ballpark.

The team offered a counterbalance to the corporate machine of the New York Yankees. Boston fans who were flung to the far reaches of the country came out to support the Sox, and that was fine.That was then, this is now. Catch 'em, tag 'em, put 'em on the Northeast Limited to Back Bay Station if they like it there so much. The rest of us are tired of having them around.

The Red Sox, thanks largely to their streak-breaking championship in 2004, became cuddly, cute, popular, and attractive to great scads of casual fans who wanted to glom onto the gravy train.There's nothing cuddly or cute about a team with a $133 million payroll. You can't be an underdog if you spend like the Kennedys.

If the Red Sox - who struggled to draw one million fans under the penurious final seasons of Yawkey family ownership - were once a cold-water walk-up on Kenmore Square, they are now a gated compound on the Cape.Oh, I know.

The fans sing songs together and have other adorable rituals, and tend to overlook small things like the fact that Manny Ramirez is one of the most selfish, self-indulgent players in the game. Ah, c'mahn. He's a Sawk.Well, self-indulgence loves company, so much so that somewhere around 15,000 fans nationwide have sent in their $15 to become official citizens in the nation, complete with membership cards and newsletters and probably a secret lyrics sheet.

Last year, the team held an election to select the president of Red Sox Nation. Nominations were received from just about every state in the union and several foreign countries, a total of 1,200 candidates in all. Unfortunately, Pennsylvania and New Jersey were not among the exceptions.For those who missed it, the winner was Jerry Remy, a former player and now a color analyst for the New England Sports Network.

The run-up to the election included a debate among the leading candidates that was shown on NESN and moderated by Tim Russert.Remy, no doubt, ran on a platform that called for more annoying sing-alongs, louder shouts from the stands in Boston accents even more fake than those presently employed and, of course, better turnout on the road.

That last pledge might be tough. The Red Sox led the major leagues in average road attendance last season (38,641) and, combined with daily sellouts at Fenway, played to an amazing 90.1 percent of seating capacity for the 162-game schedule. This season, the Sox trail only the Yankees in road attendance, but if they keep winning and the Yanks keep losing, that will flop again.

Earlier this year, Hank Steinbrenner, part-owner of the Yankees and son of legendary windbag George Steinbrenner, said he doesn't believe in Red Sox Nation."Go anywhere in America and you won't see Red Sox hats and jackets, you'll see Yankee hats and jackets," Steinbrenner said. "This is a Yankee country."

At the moment, judging by the national deficit and some unfortunate policy missteps, this actually seems to be a Kansas City Royals kind of country. But we'll leave that debate for another time and focus instead on this question for Mr. Steinbrenner: What in the world are you talking about?There are Yankees hats out there, certainly. I see them in plaid and argyle and all black, and worn sideways with no bend to the brim. Those are prevalent, and I honestly don't know what they are, but they are not baseball hats.

Everywhere else are the blue hats with the red B on the front. Those are stained and weathered, and the brims are curved to keep out the sun. The people who wear them have a big team that pretends to be little, a team that won a championship in 2004 and then another last season. They are very happy with themselves.

Starting tonight at Citizens Bank Park, they will be back and, regardless of the outcomes, it will be a long three-game series.Forget Shyamalan. Someone find William Peter Blatty. We need an exorcism.
Contact columnist Bob Ford at 215-854-5842 or

I waited a day until the steam stopped coming out of my ears and finely crafted this reply:

Mr. Ford,I read your article regarding Red Sox fans with much delight. At first, I figured you might want some cheese with your whine, because obviously there's a lot of sour grapes there. Then I just felt sorry for you. A lot of non-Red Sox fans are jealous of Red Sox Nation, that they aren't part of that family that cries together, laughs together and celebrates together. I would probably be jealous if I was a Phillies fan too.

I live at Fort Benning, GA, and am a proud wife of a U.S. Army Ranger who has deployed several times so you can write glib articles because he is fighting, along with so many others, to preserve your freedom to write whatever you want.

Being Red Sox fans has allowed us to be connected to New England since we aren't able to live near friends and family.

I don't make excuses for turds like Manny and don't proclaim to think they are cute and cuddly. There's plenty of jerks in the clubhouse, and this is true for all teams. We also have stand-up guys like Curt Schilling and Jason Varitek who visit our wounded Soldiers in the hospital.

Again, thanks for the interesting read. I have forwarded it along to a lot of other members of Red Sox Nation. Hope your inbox doesn't get too flooded.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Nine years ago today...

How does an old fart like me remember what I was doing nine years ago today? Because, as my son said, it's his birthday eve.

Nine years ago today, I think I had a feeling that I would be going into labor sooner than later. Adam and I went out to eat at Ruby Tuesday's and I remember having about a millimeter between my humongous stomach and the table.

Then we went and bought him a Playstation, because that was all the rage, just nine years ago.

We went home and played the Playstation, even though it only came with fake games. Not fake, I just can't remember the word for non-full games. Trial games, I guess you would say.

We played the Corvette racing game as much as we could.

That night, Adam fell asleep and I planned on going to sleep. Addison had other plans. I threw up at approximately midnight and had the trots. I was mad I threw up perfectly good food I paid good money for.

I figured I would go to sleep. That's when the labor pains started. Within two hours I had Adam awake timing contractions (he was actually sleeping while he was supposed to be doing this).

Finally, after much debate, we decided to go to the hospital. We had heard story after story about women in labor being told to go home because they hadn't progressed enough, so we were wary. We had no reason to be - I was 6 cm dilated and having a baby.

Long story short, the Playstation came back to haunt me. At 12:19 p.m. June 18, Addison Albert Nash was born via C-section. After the surgery, I was put on Demerol, sweet, sweet Demerol.

Because of video cameras, it is now recorded in history of me blabbering, "I don't want the faggy green Corvette." I have no idea why I said this or how the Corvette got into my conscious, but it did. It took me a couple years for me to laugh about this, because I was mortified that Adam was videotaping me and I had no clue. I would wake up, mutter about the Corvette, and pass back out.

Happy Birthday Eve, Addison Albert. I love you.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Farewell, Tim

I don't know why I become attached to people on TV. Maybe I'm lacking that part of the brain that tells normal people that no, dummy, you really don't know these people.

But I feel like I do. And I was especially saddened when I heard that Tim Russert died. What the hell, he wasn't that old. Just goes to show that even the best of us can go in the blink of an eye. And a great reminder to seize life every day, and let your loved ones know how much they are loved, because you might not get the chance again.
I hate being morbid and sad, it's depressing, so on a lighter note, I will say that the movie Don't Mess With The Zohan starring Adam Sandler is a good time. Anytime Adam Sandler can have a fro and cutoff jeans and still look sexy dancing is a good time for me.
On another note, I've gotten several comments on my blog entry about "Flo", the woman on the Progressive commercials. Apparently, people find her strangely erotic. Um, okay, whatever floats your boat - and you know Flo has insurance for that boat, too.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Alpacas in Minivans?!

I'm a curious person. I like to learn new things all the time.

My interest was piqued after seeing a commerical for alpacas. Al-what? I thought. Wtf is an alpaca and why is there a commercial hawking the alpaca lifestyle? Even better, there's a Web site called Of course, I had to surf over.

I first went to the Alpaca Facts link. Blah blah blah, treasured by Incans for their fur, blah blah blah. Until I came across this:

Alpacas are small and gentle enough to travel short distances in the family minivan and are easily handled by most people.

Why the hell would you want to take an alpaca for a drive in the family minivan? It's as idiotic to me as the clams I buy that instructs me to take the clams out of the plastic bag BEFORE I put them in the oven. Oh, gosh, thanks, I often put plastic bags full of food into the oven because I like plastic-coated food.

So, I read more on the Web site about investing in alpacas, because at this point I'm still not quite sure what the point is of having an alpaca. I loved the end of the article:

Friendly and trainable yet hardy and tough, the alpaca is truly an investment you can hug. Have you ever hugged your stocks?

I like the trainable part. Maybe I'll get one and get it to jump through a hoop set on fire. Or maybe not, since if it's got singed hair, I probably won't want to hug my investment.

Whoopee! There's an alpaca farm probably about two hours from me I can visit.

Yeah right. I'll stick with dogs, since I don't and will never own a minivan and I don't think Adam wants to drive around with an alpaca in the bed of his truck. It's a funny visual, though.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Must See

Everyone who knows me knows I love TV and anything space-related. As in the moon, outer space, etc.

I don't know when I became fascinated with it, but I am. I think my interest really piqued when I was in sixth grade, and Christa McCauliffe was about to become the first teacher in space.

At the time, I wanted to be a teacher. Christa embodied everything I wanted to be when I grew up: a wife, mom, teacher and astronaut. She was also a New Englander.

When the Challenger blew up, it affected me. I read everything I could about Christa, and even still have a few books about her. She has always been my hero.

I started seeing the commercials on the Discovery Channel about the miniseries, When We Left Earth: The NASA Missions and just knew I would watch it.

It started last night at 9 p.m. They went over the Mercury and Gemini missions in the 60s. It was very interesting and I was transfixed.

What I'm saying is, if you get a chance, check it out. You won't be disappointed.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Working on my fitness, Addison's my witness

Hallelujah to my Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

When the Nintendo Wii came out late November of 2006, Addison wanted it from Santa. No problem, I thought. Until it became THE hottest thing. Not in stock anywhere.

I found a Web site called, which will tell you if the unit is in stock at a myriad of stores. I spent a few days waiting, waiting, waiting until one day at Gamestop a bundle, which included the Wii and seven games, came up as available. My patience and obsession had paid off.

In mid-May, Nintendo came out with the Wii Fit, a balance board that you stand on to do everything from yoga to hula hooping to push-ups and heading soccer balls. I knew I had to have it.

A week before my birthday I was at the PX and saw two Wii Fits on a table. I picked it up and held it, debating buying it right then and there but figured I would tell Adam that is what I want for my birthday, to try to give him a really good idea.

Less than a week later, the Wii Fit is not available anywhere. Fuck me. I remembered my old friends at the Wii Tracker and found that they now had a Wii Fit Tracker. Of course, the OCD turned on BIG TIME.

My persistance paid off when one day, after refreshing the site every ten minutes, found it available at Whoopee!!!!!

Needless to say, it got delivered by the UPS man yesterday. It was like Christmas morning. I had a great time, worked out for more than an hour and worked out for an hour today also. I totally love it., you're the heat. OCD, thanks for coming through for me once again.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

What's with the 'tude, kid?

I've noticed a trend among the kids Addison plays baseball with. Simply put, they've got BAD attitudes.

There's one kid in particular, who I really have to restrain from bitch slapping, who, if he doesn't play the position he wants, sulks the entire game. I actually gave him a talking to one day when he told Addison he was gay. I told him it was unacceptable to call anyone that and the 5-year-old came out in me and I threatened to tell his parents.

This same kid also tells his teammates they suck and that he can do better. Too bad he doesn't do better.

I overheard one kid say, "Oh, we're the visiting team. We always lose when we're the visitors." Way to have a positive attitude, kid.

I just wonder where these kids get these attitudes from. Were they born like that? Did their parents contribute to it? And why aren't their parents on them like white on rice, telling them to knock it off?

Adam and I laid down strict rules to Addison before he even had his first practice - no crying (unless you've actually broken a bone) or you'll go home and won't play again (this was because we've seen kids cry when they strike out and it's embarrassing and there's no reason for it); you're there to play baseball, not turn cartwheels or act like a 'tard; listen to your coach and does what he says, even if you don't like it; you're there to have fun (yes, it's nice to win, also, but even if you don't win, at least you had fun playing).

I like to think Addison has taken this to heart. He told me after one game that his team lost pretty badly, "We didn't win, but I did have fun." That makes it all worth it to me. Too bad more kids can't have a better attitude.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

Hotter than...(insert expletive here)

All I can say is, it's hot. Hotter than two dogs f&&^ing, as Adam would say. Hot enough so when you go outside, you go into an instant sweat.

According to, right now at Fort Benning, Georgia, the temperature is 92 and the heat index is 102 sweaty sweaty degrees.

Oh, how lovely, the high is only 92. The high tomorrow is 96.

The best part of all of this? Addison has a baseball game at 5:30 tonight. He wears a blue shirt, black pants, black socks, black shoes and a black hat. I already know I will be sweating through the least amount of clothing that I will wear, so I can't imagine what it's like for the poor kids.

This, once again, proves to me and should to everyone why baseball season in Georgia should start in March or April, not MAY! Even better, he still has seven games left that will end in late June.