A 5 minute car ride lasts 5 minutes.... A bad word lasts forever.

The other week I was making one of my many trips up and down Los Al Blvd... running errands... picking up kids... dropping them off someplace else... (going back to the store to pick up the one thing that was actually on my shopping list, yet failed to get.)

I was frustrated, for sure. However, I've really been trying to keep things in perspective. Why get so upset over these little things?
I'm healthy.
My kids are healthy.
My marriage is great.
I really have no reason to complain... Ever. Perspective is good. No need to be so agitated by the little things.

It is in this manner that I'm trying to overhaul my attitude as a motorist.
Please understand that it is very difficult for me to do, what with my superior driving skills and permanent I am always right status and all. (Plus, I have to live with these people. How embarrassing would it be to realize I that my little road rage temper tantrum was just directed at someone I know... I just hadn't recognized their car...?)

So last week as I am driving down the boulevard, someone cut me off. (And I mean slam-on-my-brakes cut me off.) The Old Viv might have handled it differently, but with my newly acquired attitude riding shotgun, I just clenched my teeth and kept quiet.

From the back seat, Grant calmly inquired,

"Mom? Is he a Dumb Ass...?"

Sigh.

Apparently it is too late to worry about someone I know observing my lack of perspective and 40 mph temper tantrums.

Monday came twice last week.

Things are crazy around here. I am feeling completely overwhelmed by all of the things on my to-do list.

This past week had so much ridiculousness that I should have plenty to be writing about. Unfortunately, I set my brain down somewhere and can't find it, and my wit and creativity are somewhere on the bottom of my purse along with lint, a loose piece of gum and an uncapped pen.

So instead of writing down all of. the. crap. from last week, here is the week in images.

Paper-work, research projects, pens in the laundry, kids getting stuck in sewing machines, arguments with nutty people, drama, boredom, pain, tooth fairy failure.....

Puh-leeeeeeze let this week be less, um, difficult.

Jesse James? Um, you're a pig. No, that isn't nice to say about a pig. You're pond scum. No. that isn't nice to say about pond scum...

Dear Jesse James,
You have a gorgeous wife who is sweet, funny, a great step-mother, and is well-loved by most accounts. Oh, and she's a movie star too.

So please explain why you would let your penis do your decision making and throw away a blessed, happy life in exchange for a cheap, nasty affair with a tattooed skank ho?

There is a moral and ethical black hole from which you operate. You have taken the time in your wife's life where she should be celebrating the highlight of her professional career, and you have replaced her happiness with crushing betrayal and sadness.

Apparently you have crashed without your helmet one too many times. Idiot.

Sincerely,
So Sad For Sandra

Go to a Family of Shorts for more letters.

Kiss my Blarney Stone.

Conner's school made an announcement over the intercom this morning:

Any student who pinches another student for not wearing green will get a detention. A pinch for not wearing green is considered harassment and possibly will be considered assault.

Reeeeeeee-diculous.

This is not me. I hope.

You guys? I am frustrated and chubby. I need to be bikini ready by mid June and that leaves me only 3 short months to get my ass in gear.

Literally.

You know what is screwing me up on my quest for a roll-free bod? ...My bod!

Each day something new hurts. Then, just when I think it's better and I can start a work out, I get some new pain or a new injury.

So I give up.

I'm getting peel and stick abs

and bra for my butt

and I'm going to call it a day.

Your left. No, your OTHER left.

Dear Drivers at the 4-way stop on Montecito and Bostonian,

I know 4-way stops can be confusing, what with drinking your coffee, texting on your phone and yelling at your kids and all.
I know it can be extra confusing because the crossing guard might have her PhD in crosswalk safety and fluorescent accessorizing, but she clearly missed the chapter on traffic patterns and is a card carrying member of the We Hate All Cars Unless We're Driving Them Club.
Plus I know you (and you alone) are under a time crunch to get your kids to school on time, so allow me to help you out with a little refresher about who has the right of way at a 4-way stop.

If two people arrive at the intersection at the same time, who gets to go first?

• A) the person with the biggest car.
• B) the person with the newest car.
• C) the person who thinks they're entitled to go because they are in more of a rush than everyone else.
• D) the person on the right.
• E) the person who lives the closest to the intersection, and therefore is on "home turf."

The answer is D.

If two people arrive at the intersection at the same time and they are directly across from each other (therefore the "person on the right" rule does not apply), who gets to go first?

• A) If both cars are going straight through the intersection it doesn't matter.
• B) If both cars are going straight through the intersection it doesn't matter.
• C) If both cars are going straight through the intersection it doesn't matter.
• D) If both cars are going straight through the intersection it doesn't matter.
• E) All of the above.

The answer is E.

What if one of those two cars is turning left instead of going straight? Who goes first then?

• A) The person who can hit the gas and lurch into the intersection the fastest.
• B) The person who doesn't like to use their turn signals and is angry when other drivers don't just intuitively know what they're going to do.
• C) Both cars go at the same time and meet in the middle of the intersection for a session of shouting and obscene gesture exchanges.
• D) The person going straight has the right of way, because unless they have a green arrow, the person turning left NEVER HAS THE RIGHT OF WAY.

The answer is D.

I hope this has been informative and productive. There will be a test tomorrow, and I can only hope that Allstate will be grading you.

sincerely,
Wondering why you're selfish AND stupid.

Go read more "Dear Someone" letters at Family of Shorts.

Are you smarter than a granola bar? (or) Does too much fiber affect the space time continuum?

I had to run into Target over the weekend to pick up a birthday gift for one of Grant's little buddys. I figured since I was there, I should grab a few gallons of milk too.
And a frozen pizza.
Oooh, and paper towels.
And some juice boxes...

As I cruised down one of the aisles, I noticed that some of the granola bars were on sale AND you got a Target gift card if you bought five boxes. While I stood there looking at the display and choosing which flavors I wanted, a woman came up to me and began to inspect the contents of my cart.

She was probably in her early to mid 60's. She had on a cute little outfit with coordinating jewelry and her make-up was nicely done. A sharp contrast to my jeans & t-shirt, lack of make-up and my ratty looking pony tail... (My point? I probably wouldn't have struck up a conversation with me.)

Lady peered into my cart as if she would be quizzed on the contents later on. Lady looked from my cart to the display and back again. "Are these good?" she asked, indicating the box of Quaker Chewy Granola Bars in my cart. I explained to her that they are a bit on the sweet-side for me, but I was buying them for school lunches and my boys like them quite a bit.

I let her know that my personal favorite were the Fiber One bars with anti-oxidents.

Lady: "Oh! So they make you go potty?"
Me: "Well, no.... they are made with fiber, not with Ex-Lax...."
Lady: "My son is going on an airplane trip tomorrow morning and I want to get him some snacks for the plane. I don't want him to need to go to the bathroom on the plane."

Me: (chuckling a little) "Well, they certainly don't kick in that fast. I like them because they taste good."

Lady proceeds to ask my opinion about every other brand and variety of granola or cereal bar on the shelf, including Pop-Tarts. I give her my opinions. I suggest flavors and brands that are good, but when she repeatedly asks me for one that I like I repeatedly answer that I like the Fiber One bars.

Lady wonders if her son will get peanuts or other snacks on the plane. I joke about checked luggage needing to buy its own ticket these days and the cutbacks in on-board service. "I don't want him to be hungry." she says.
Me: "Um, ma'am, uh, how old is your son...?"

Lady: (giving me a look that quickly lets me know that she thinks I'm a moron) "Honey, look at me! How old do you think my son is?!"

Now this is dangerous territory.
I want to say "Based on how you look, I'd guess he's in his 40's; but, based on how you're acting, I'd guess he's 8 or 9..."
Fortunately, she answers her own question. Her son is 43.

She switches back to her concerns about the Fiber One bars and the lightning fast poo poo she thinks they will produce. "I just don't want those kicking in on the plane." I ask her how long his flight is. She tells me that it's about 7 hours.

Lady: "Yep, he's leaving out of Los Angeles tomorrow morning around 9:00 and gets in to Missouri about 3:30, so about 7 hours..."
Me: (Still hung up on the fact that she thinks a Fiber One bar will produce insta-poop) "Is it a direct flight?"
Lady: "Yes."
Me: "Oh, well gosh, it's about a 5 and a half hour flight from L.A. to New York, so Missouri is probably only about 4 hours or so."
Lady: "No, it's a 7 hour flight. He leaves at 9:00 and gets in at 3:30."
Me: "Missouri is 2 hours ahead of California, so it's really only like 4 and a half hours."
Lady: "Yes, but 9 to 3:30 is 7 hours."

(It is at this moment that I begin to realize I am dealing with Looney McSlowbrain from the Tribe of Stubborness. Does that stop me from continuing down this wacky rabbit hole of time travel? Of course not.)

Me: "But the actual travel time is probably just over 4 hours or so."
Lady: "Yes, but he leaves at 9 and gets there just after 3:30..."
Me: "I know, but that is due to the time change. In reality, he will only be on the airplane for about 4 hours."
Lady: "He leaves at 9 and gets there at 3:30. That's 7 hours."
Me: "Yes, but that's just because he'll land at local Missouri time, and he'll just set his watch ahead two hours."
Lady: "Well, yes I know he'll have to change his watch. I just don't want him to go without a snack that long, and I don't want to give him those fiber bars, because, you know... "

(Looking rather thoughtful, she pauses for a moment) "...Although the flight back is much shorter."

I open my mouth to respond.
Then close it.
I open it.
Close it.

I'm sure I look like a fish out of water, gasping and flopping on the dock. I just have no response for this.

"You know what, Ma'am? I bet the Quaker Chewy Bars are the perfect snack after all."

Where it's at...

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