Tote Bag Check

I have a huge tote bag that I carry all the important things in life in. I was rummaging around looking for my long last cell phone and noticed that I had an odd assortment of things that ended up in my bag:

1. Plastic Frog in a scuba suit. His name is "Le Frog" he is from the movie Flushed Away
2. Assorted mail and address list
3. Can of V8 - For your vegetable emergencies
4. A Thomas the Tank Engine Train
5. Tea
6. Antibiotics and Ibuprofen
7. The DVD Potty Power
8. Assorted greeting cards
9. The current book I am reading
10. mini-pads

What's in your tote bag?

The Great Jar Search of 2007

It's that time of year and I have been searching for the special gift for our dear friends and family. This year we are going for something homemade. We decided that nothing says, "You're the best" like pesto mustard. Who wouldn't want something a little spicy for your wiener... or your sandwich. But this isn't just any old mustard, this fresh mustard combined with some olive oil and balsamic vinegar becomes a tangy salad dressing.

I am new to the world of jarring. I did not grow up canning, nor do I have any relatives whom carry on this charming tradition. When we naively set out looking for 1/2 pint Kerr jars, we weren't finding any, not a single one. We have been shaking down every Walmart, Safeway, and hardware store looking for the precious jars. My husband, my step-mom and I have been canvassing the area. We have been checking in reporting our progress to each other, coming up with new strategies for looking for a week.

Last night, at the last store my husband went to, which happened to have one case of jars on the farthest shelf up possible, informed us that stores only carry them during the summer, since that is when everyone "cans" or "jars", whatever the hell they do when they decide to "put-up" fruits and vegetable for the winter. Well how would I know? We live in the San Francisco Bay Area, the biggest season change we get is fog or no fog. And since we live a few hours from the central valley which provides fruits and veggies for the whole west, it's not like we have a direct need to capture the splendor of summer produce in a jar.

With 12 jars in our hands, and needing 24 more, my step-mother hit the hard retail streets this morning once more and struck gold at Ace Hardware. We were able to find our 24 more jars for our hapless jarring project.

Retailers of the Bay Area, I have a new season for you, it's mustard season. It begins December 1st, so you better have your jars ready for us, because purchasing them during the summer and hanging on to them for six months is just too much work.

Kooza!

The one show that I never miss when it comes to town is Cirque Du Soleil. Right now the show Kooza is playing in San Francisco. This past Saturday we met under the big top and all I can say is wow.

We stop everything to make it to Cirque Du Soleil. I love to drink in the whole atmosphere of cirque, the acrobats, the music, the costumes. All of it just inspires me to make ridiculous costumes to run around the house in. Besides, Cirque Du Soleil has the only clowns in the world that do not cause me to curl into a ball and rock myself on the floor. Their clowns actually make me laugh. It was so good, I spat when I laughed. I couldn't help it, they were causing spontaneous belly laughs, which I have been chasing for quite some time.

We got the fancy schmancy tickets Tapis Rouge. Which is where they give you appetizers and drinks before the show and desert during the intermission. Tapis Rouge is nice and all, but it never has enough tables to eat at and the appetizers are hard to eat without a table. It would be my suggestion to get the good tickets, but not get Tapis Rouge and instead take yourself to a nice dinner instead before hand.

As usual, my step-mom got us incredible seats, I like to call them the "sweat on seats", since we were in fourth row. The acrobats were amazing and they scared the crap out of me with their feats. That is because we were slow close, and one wrong move and it seemed as if they would come flying into the audience. The clowns practically made me pee. What this show had was a lot of surprises. The packed the show with so many unexpected things, you had to pay attention so you didn't miss anything.

What I can't wait to do is plan a Vegas vacation, but instead of gambling and gorging at buffets, I will go see Cirque Du Soleil shows all week. I don't need any sin with my city, I just need a little wow.

If you get a chance to check out, you won't regret it. Here is the link to Kooza.

Pumpkin! It's just not for pies anymore!

I love Thanksgiving! For our family it is about great food, stiff cocktails, and getting together and having a relaxed time. I always go to my Dad's for Thanksgiving because with him and my step-mom they always create this zen-foodie environment.

There is a tradition that my Step-mom started about 15 years ago with pumpkin soup. Ever since then it is demanded at Thanksgiving. It is the first course of the dinner and it isn't Thanksgiving unless we have it. Even when we are at other people homes, we force the pumpkin soup on them, they thank us later.

As I said, my step-mom serves the warm and creamy soup with a freshly baked garlic crouton in the shape of a star with a dallop of sour cream dancing on the top. She serves it in an elegant bowl with special spoons. Then once we have downed the soup, we end up being scolded for licking the bowl. I would like the pot it was made in if I could.

This soup is so great we look forward to it more than the turkey, the stuffing, or pumpkin pie. Don't get me wrong, the whole meal is amazing but the pumpkin soup is the shining star of the meal.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families! May you find a nice corner to nap in after the meal!

Nudey Rudey

This week Drew started Preschool. I had an emotional post rolling around in my head but the events that have popped up have just made me giggle.

Even though I have broken out in zits from head to toe worried for him, he has had a great week. The teachers are great, everything you would want Preschool teachers to be. He is getting along well with others, participating, and eating his lunch. He still is struggling with staying in his room. He thinks he can roam where he likes, so the students tell on him if he starts to wander off. It can't be easy starting in the middle of the year.

Then I picked him up from school on Wednesday to find out that he had stripped himself naked in the sandbox that day. The teacher pulled me aside at the end of the day to ask if that was normal behavior, I told her only at bath time. Apparently all the kids in the play yard were shocked and pointed and ran and got the teachers. It made total sense, he had sand in his under ware, he needed to get it out. We had a good belly laugh, she kissed the top of his head and said, "Oh, mi amore".

The first week and he is already the naked kid in class. :)

Reporting for Duty

Who was it exactly that put me in charge? I don’t remember signing a contract or any long meetings to describe my duties. No elves came to my house to instate me as honorary Santa Claus of my household. Neither did I receive a notice from the Easter Bunny or the Party Planning Commission.

I get hives at the first sign of Christmas gear in the stores, mostly because they are putting it up before Halloween has even arrived. Everything else in my life is hurried, do we have to push aside Halloween and Thanksgiving, because those are the holidays that I like best.

Instead of hearing Christmas Carole’s I hear Freddy Mercury and David Bowie’s “Under Pressure” playing in my head over and over. Why? Because the holidays are my sole responsibility, the responsibility that I didn’t sign up for but have been pushed into when I became Mom. Maybe my holidays duties were assigned and given in all the paperwork that the hospital gave me that I never read when I gave birth.

The topic of Christmas is on my mind because to pull off this much holiday cheer I need to get a running start. That means that I need to start all the planning and purchasing. Because come Christmas time, you won’t find me anywhere close to a mall, mostly because there is no parking. I can’t handle all the people jostling me about, the long lines, and the parking lots. I think most people feel that way. But not only do I have to arrange presents for parents, kids, friends, in-laws, I need to arrange for pictures, cards and baked goods. If I start now, I am more organized, mostly on budget, and a lot less stressed. It’s a lot of pressure being in charge of creating life-long family memories.

Not only that, when I married Mr. Snarky, I took on HIS family tradition of writing the Christmas letter. It's the letter where we condense a whole year of living into cute little anecdotes to let every one know what our year has been like. We don't even talk to his brothers and sisters, so this seems a little pointless for me. Like the holiday cards weren’t cumbersome enough. I do the letters because he has no time, and if I don’t do them, I get an earful from the mother in law. The earful is worse than the torture of writing the letter, so I normally write the letter.

And what does this hardworking elf get in return? Do I get a little something in my stocking? No, I normally don’t even get a lump of coal or a tooth brush. It’s normally empty. It’s the one day a year I actually almost believe in magic and hope that by some miracle someone left something in my stalking. I would take lint. For all the work that goes into it would be nice if Santa could at least spare a little See’s candy and a little note that said, “Good work keeping the spirit alive”. It’s not that I don’t get wonderful gifts, I do. I get spoiled by Mr. Snarky all year round in big and little ways. I am in charge of the checkbook and all the money, so it is really hard to surprise me, I get that, but for one day, I think I could use a little magic too. And buying something for me and putting it in there for my self doesn’t seem to cut it.

So here I go, I am strapping on my elf boots and hat and jumping in my station wagon to bring the holidays to my family.

It's Ava, bitch!

I have tried not to speak out about Ms. Britney Spears, but now I must. I heard that Britney’s half-assed, digitized album just hit number 1. People, what are you thinking?

I am not going to make judgments about her children; I don’t know the whole story, so I will refrain from attacking her mom skills. However, as a performer, don’t support the crap that she keeps turning out.

Look, if you want an overly tired mom, whose only life line is Starbucks, with hideous clothes, with even more hideous hair, grunting instead of vocalizing and dancing around in her underwear – I’M YOUR GAL!!!

I can sing, sort of, and I can certainly do the guttural moaning she passes off as singing. Wait till you hear my sexual moans digitized, I can be way hotter than Britney. I can clumsily stomp around stage in high healed boots posing as a dancer. Pay me millions of dollars to lip synch, crash into cars, suck Starbucks and look like a constant fashion accident. I won’t spend the millions on drugs and alcohol. The occasional pomegranate margarita yes, but I solemnly swear to spend my millions garnered from my half-naked flailing around on the hungry, inner city kids, and college funds for my family. I don’t even want a Mercedes. I just want a Volvo station wagon with a GPS tracking system and a back-up camera. Jive Records, take me, I’ll do it!

So if you won’t take me as your new Queen of Pop then please do not support the current crap she is turning out. Do not buy her album! It will get stuck in your head, and you will try banging your head on the wall to try and extract it, but resist, do not support the mediocre Queen of Crap, as I have now deemed her. As evidenced by the MTV VMA’s she didn’t even bother putting together a proper performance. What lame ass can’t even lip synch to her own song? Jive records, you pay her millions for this?

I urge you not to buy Blackout. If the title of her album does not explain her mental state, then I don’t know what does. Let her sink into oblivion. She should take her remaining funds, buy a big piece of property in back waters of Louisiana from which she came and install high fences. She has enough money to build her own Starbucks on that lot. Then she has the space to figure her self out or self-destruct. I am officially tired of seeing her strung out and bloated carcass all over the tabloids. If I wanted to see that, all I have to do is look in the mirror. If you don’t give her money, I am hoping that she will disappear.

Read about all the efforts of her own friends and employees to boycott her here at The Post Chronicle:
http://www.postchronicle.com/news/original/article_212110653.shtml

Announcement: I am not pregnant

I called a couple of out of town friends yesterday. I am really bad about staying in contact with my friends out of state. While I am an avid e-mailer, I am not very good at getting on the phone. My out of state friend’s are definitely talking on the phone for long periods of time type of people. With everything that is going on, I don’t exactly have the time for hours and hours long conversations, but I do my best.

I called Brandy who is Georgia.

Me: “Hi! It’s Ava. How a…”
Brandy interrupting me: “Oh my god you’re pregnant”
Me: “Uh. No. I am just calling to say hello and see how you are and how the families are doing”
Brandy: “Oh, are you trying to get pregnant?”
Me: “No, not right now. How are you?”
Brandy: “I’m fine but I have to call you back”.

Note to self, call Brandy more often, she thinks that I only call her for major announcements. I’m on my lunch hour, so I get back on the phone determined to reach out and touch someone.

Dial up my friend Tracy who is in Arizona, and I prepare myself because I just glanced at the calendar and I realized that I totally missed her birthday in July. Crap!

Me: “Hi Tracy!”
Tracy: “Are you pregnant?”
Me: “Um no, not to my knowledge. Why did you know something that I don’t know?”
Tracy: “Are you sure you’re not pregnant”
Me: “Yes. We have taken precautions”.
Tracy: “Okay, but I have to call you back”.

So I guess they only want to talk to me if I’m pregnant. I figured I would stop with the out of state calling right there, since I seem to be disappointing everyone with my lack of a gestating fetus. Who needs a biological clock when you have friends?

And the winner is...

... the T-Rex. He finally decided at the very last moment to go ahead and let his inner carnivore out.

However this morning when he woke up and I announced that it was Halloween and people would bestow candy upon him with a simple "Trick or Treat" and a "Thank you!" I got this face:

He got into it eventually. That is him and daddy hitting the cold hard streets of our local mall.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween!