Is There Such a Thing as a Desperate Househusband?

As I was scrubbing the liquified cookie crumbs out of Boy #1's lunchbox yesterday afternoon, I had another one of those "I went to college for this?" moments. We have successful lawyers, bankers, doctors, businesspeople. How come nobody says, "She is a successful housewife?" You can come over to my house any time and I will always have a clean towel for you if needed. I will whip you up a snack or a meal that will bring a tear to your eye. I will wrap a present for you, sew a button on, do your laundry while you are enjoying that snack. I will let you sit on my couch and relax while I bring you a selection of magazines. I will even help you with your homework if you want. If that's not successful I don't know what is. Let's not even bring up the fact that in my line of work there are no annual reviews, raises, or expense accounts. I don't even like the term "housewife." It is so 50's, so retro, so June Cleaver. I was talking about this with a friend and she brought up the fact that so many other occupations are genderless, like actor, doctor, banker. But not housewife. So what would a genderless title be, "houser?" "house manager?" Any ideas? On forms that ask for my occupation I usually put "mom," which I guess is more important than "housewife." Jackie Kennedy once said something to the effect of "If you mess up raising your children, whatever else you do in life doesn't matter much." No matter how clean your towels are.

Don't They Have People to Shop for Them?

The streets here.....are littered. With celebrities. I'm starting to think they're stalking ME. I can't even do the most mundane task anymore without bumping into one. Today, after a school yearbook meeting and many, many errands....returning library books, picking up dry cleaning, returning the pack of card stock that wasn't used when Boy #1 made campaign buttons for his student council run, making a quick drugstore run, and so much more, I stopped by the grocery store that sells the best grapes. And the best watermelon. And where Sidney Poitier and I like to buy our apples. I was buying a few impulse items when I saw a woman who looked like Reba McEntire. Only smaller. I glanced at her and then away and she disappeared. I finished shopping and got into a checkout line. I couldn't see who was checking out in front of me at first because of the way the checkout station is configured. When I could see the customer ahead of me I saw that it was indeed Reba McEntire. The clerk asked her if she wanted help out to her car and she said "No, that's OK." I saw my opening. "We don't need help there," I said. "We need help at home putting it away. We need help unloading our dishwashers and putting our laundry away." My new friend Reba chuckled, "That's right," she said, "Come and help us at home." We're just two women laughing together about all the stuff we have to do. As if SHE doesn't have people to do that stuff. Maybe she doesn't. After all, she WAS buying her own groceries. And she did return her shopping cart to the cart corral after she loaded the grocery bags into her car. Reba and I have so much in common. We speak the same language. Dishwashers, laundry, groceries. If only my friend Sidney had been there.

Brentwood Stars Come Out at Night

I am on such a roll. Saturday night. Dinner at a diner in Brentwood with the kids. Decided to go across the street to the Halloween store on the corner because, of course, Halloween is in 4 days and if we don't, Boys #1 and 2 will be a Cubs fan and a football player. Again. The store was filled with scary masks and overpriced Halloween stuff and desperate adult shoppers. I decided to step outside while the boys decided which scary masks to buy that they will surely end up taking off in order to actually SEE while trick or treating. I sat on a ledge outside the store and looked toward the street and who did I see? Jake and Reese. Gyllenhaal and Witherspoon. Yep, the Brokeback guy and the Legally Blonde girl. Holding hands. And walking toward the Halloween store. Even celebs get into the Halloween spirit, I guess. As Reese walked toward the store, she adjusted her baseball cap, pulling it lower on her head. Jake had no hat, just a beard and a puffy vest. She is verrrry tiny and very pretty. They were holding hands and leaning into each other. There were no paparazzi in sight, so If they're not REALLY a couple they were doing a great impression of one. Of course I walked back into the store after they did. He picked out a very oversized brown cowboy hat and I didn't see what she got. I was too busy trying not to look like I was staring at them. In the checkout line she leaned back into him as his hand caressed her back and even lower!!! (This is a family blog, you know.) I really need to start carrying my camera with me.

Sidney Poitier, Jake and Reese. My sightings are getting better and better. It's mostly all Oscar winners now. Can Brangelina be far behind?

Guess Who's Coming to the Grocery Store

Sometimes I get a little obsessed with the strangest things. For the last few years, it has been the honey crisp apple. I discovered them several years ago at the grocery store and have been spreading the word ever since. Some people preach religion. I preach the honey crisp. They are sweet, tangy, crisp (of course), and delicious. They have become quite popular recently--in fact, a few weeks ago the Chicago Tribune had an article about them entitled "One Sexy Apple." Over the weekend we went out to dinner at one of my new favorite LA restaurants, and I had my new favorite side dish, roasted brussels sprouts with pancetta and fuji apple. I think it also had some fresh thyme gently sprinkled in. It was fabulous. In fact, I have been thinking about it ever since. Perhaps brussels sprouts are the new honey crisp. I went to the grocery store today to buy the ingredients, because with the temperature here in the 90's and the state burning, somehow my thoughts turned to roasting. It IS October, after all. I was in the produce section, looking for the fujis, when I looked across the aisle and saw Sidney Poitier picking out apples. So of course, I walked over to his apple bin and, conveniently, the sign indicating what kind of apples they were was missing. "They're fujis," he said. (If that's not karma, I don't know what is) "Oh, " I said, gazing into his eyes. I'm not your typical fan, you know--anyone can say, "I really love your work, Mr. Poitier." Not me. "Have you tried the honey crisps? They are fabulous. They're life-changing." "Really?" he asked. "Where are they?" I, having been raised right, was very happy to help the man out. So we walked over to the honey crisp section together. The. Very. Elegant. Mr. Poitier. and I. He picked out a few apples. "You're going to love them," I said. "Next time I see you I'll let you know how they were," he said. Simply charming. We encountered each other in the store a few more times before we checked out at different lanes. I walked out a few feet in front of him and watched as he got into his black Mercedes. Then I got into my minivan and went home to real life.

It Barely Hurt At All The First Time

You're always a bit nervous your first time. You might not know how to do it right, you might not know how everything works, you might not know how to push all the right buttons. The lighting might not be right, either, and you know there will be someone right there watching you. It's a little embarrassing, too, because you know everyone's been doing it all along and you feel like the only inexperienced one out there. But today I became one of you. One of the crowd. One of the cool kids who knows exactly how to do it. I did it. Yes, I did. I used a debit card today for the first time ever and I'm not embarrassed it took me so long, either! Well, maybe just a little... I was on my way to the grocery store and was chatting with a friend about how I didn't like the fact that, at this particular grocery store, every time I wrote a check I had to pull out my driver's license too. She was appalled. But not because of the driver's license. "You write checks? Why do you write checks at the grocery store?" I told her that I liked the fact that when I write a check it's paid for. It's done. I don't have to add a charge to my credit card. Besides, I've always written checks at the grocery store. That's how my mom did it. My friend expained a little bit about the wonderful world of debit cards to me and it sounded pretty painless. I went into the store and soon was confiding my little secret to Chris, the cashier. "I've never done this before." He looked at me as if I were crazy. Even his braces seemed to be laughing at me. I swiped and pressed and entered and it was all over. It was so easy! I loved it! And the best news is that my bank has this program where they round up your purchases to the nearest dollar and put the change into your savings account. I've been waiting my whole life for this...the more you spend the more you save! I can't wait to do it again!

Chew on This For Awhile

In between criss-crossing the country, buying and returning school supplies, killing moths and scrubbing eggs off my house, and just generally getting ready for the fall, I realized that I need a new project. I told you I was working on one and here it is. I have a few other non-bloggy plans for myself for the fall, too, you will be happy to know. Let me know what you think about cyberspace's new addition.

First Day Blues

Today was the first day of school here. I love the smell of #2 pencils in the morning. Boys #1 and 2 are, amazingly enough (to me, at least), in 8th and 5th grade this year. They were up early on this steamy hot day, with backpacks that had been packed up several days ago with new school supplies. Their lunches were ready to go, and so were they. They were excited to get to school early to find out which friends were in their classes. It's sort of funny--for the last couple of weeks whenever they were asked if they were excited to go back to school the answer was, for both of them, a definite "No." Yet they were excited to get to school. I, on the other hand, have sort of been looking forward to the start of school for a week or so. Looking forward to having some free time to myself without the constant presence of my "assistants", as I love to call them. I love the routine of the school year yet I know that that routine soon becomes a grind. But I was ready to get started too. What really suprised me about today was that when I left the school after having gone with them and checked the class lists, exchanged pleasantries with other parents and teachers, and brought my baked-at-11:30-last-night-sour-cream-coffee-cake to the first day coffee, I felt a little sad walking away. I think I had gotten used to hanging out with my two assistants and it felt strange not to be with them. I also realize that I have a lot of "free time" facing me. They always say, "be careful what you wish for.." But I have a new project in mind.....I'm busy cooking something up. More to follow.

Call Waiting and Waiting....

We are having phone problems. When someone calls, they hear about half a ring on their end, then silence. The call doesn't go to voice mail. We hear about half a ring, then silence. If we grab the phone quickly enough, we can get the call before the person hearing the silence on the other end gives up. I called the phone company this morning and after 20 minutes or so was connected with a friendly guy named Steve. He listened to the problem and then told me he was going to run a check on the line and call me right back. After waiting another half hour for Steve's call, I had to leave my house for an appointment. This afternoon I tried again. I called the same number and was on hold for 45 minutes. Why does it seem that it is impossible to get in touch with the phone company on the phone?? About 35 minutes into it I decided to try calling yet another repair number I found online. Using my cell phone, I finally got connected and, with the hold music still playing out of my home phone's speaker--I wasn't taking any chances--I spoke with Theresa who told me that Steve had checked the line and said everything was working just fine. "It's not fine," I said. "There's still a problem. Why don't you put me on hold and call my number on another line?" So she did. "You're right," she said, "I just got half a ring." Geniuses, all. So tomorrow, if you need to call me, feel free to call me at home. I'll be here from 8 until 12, at least, waiting for the phone guy.

The Dreaded Peanut

Boy #2 went to a one-week basketball day camp with a friend of his last week. I went to sign him up the same day he started, so I had sent him with his own lunch even though the camp provides lunch. I just wasn't sure they'd have a lunch for him since we hadn't signed up in advance. I dropped him off, took the packet of information they gave me, and went home. I started reading the stack of papers. By page 3 I was already a little stressed out. He hadn't taken a backpack, just a water bottle and his lunch bag. Already we were not in compliance. Under the heading of BREAKFAST, on page 4, another reason to worry. "Your child should eat a healthy, nutritious breakfast." OK, in some cultures Trix IS considered nutritious, but probably not at this camp. The milk counts, though, I'm pretty sure. Then on page 10, I started to panic. LUNCH AND FOOD SERVICE: Please do not send your child to camp with peanut butter or any foods containing nuts or made with nut products. Please do not send "lunchables", sugary or junk foods, candy, soda, red or blue drinks, or glass containers. Such items will be confiscated if found. This section was in bold print AND was underlined. OK, so on his first day of camp he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, contraband which would be confiscated if found. I immediately called the camp and confessed. The director went out to the playground to confiscate and destroy the offending sandwich. Boy #2 ended up eating the lunch they provided.

I just don't remember the peanut arousing such fear and horror when I was a kid. Peanut butter was the most common lunchbox item around. Now the peanut is banned in many schools. Some schools have peanut-free tables for the kids who are allergic. Many schools just ban the peanut because it is easier that way. What happened in 20 (OK maybe 30 or so years)? The peanut, so small, but so powerful, is feared everywhere. Next time maybe I'll just send a little baggie of Trix for lunch--oh--but that would break the zero-waste rule. Maybe if he eats a big enough breakfast he won't even NEED lunch. That could be the best idea of all....

What I Did On My Summer Vacation, Part Three

Boy #2 and I came back to LA recently for a few weeks. We got home and walked in the kitchen and I immediately noticed several little bugs in the kitchen. They looked like mini moths. I opened the pantry and saw a few more. I started killing them and kept finding more. I called Mr. Minivan at work and asked him if he had noticed them. "Oh, yeah, I saw them about a week ago," he said. Great. I did a little research--thank you Google--and found that they are called flour moths, and they come in the house as eggs in a bag of flour or some grain-containing food. Then they hatch and multiply, etc. I'll spare you the details. Now....it's war. It's us against them. We can't all stay. I bought some moth traps, which are supposed to attract them. The moths are either incredibly stupid or the smartest bugs ever, because although some have been trapped, others are just flying around the trap laughing at me. I spoke to a friend who had the same problem a couple of months ago. She is getting me her exterminator's number. It's the eggs we must eliminate, you see.

Speaking of eggs, a couple of days after the Moth Battle began, our house got egged. Don't know by whom, can't figure out why, don't know why they didn't hit our cars, parked right in front of the house, don't know any of these answers. Our neighbors' houses were fine. Thank you again Google--two hours of scrubbing and cleaning later and the house looks great. Never looked better, in fact.

Problem is, things usually happen in threes. What could possibly be next?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation, Part Two

Bonjour my charming readers. I am now French. Mr. Minivan and I took advantage of the boys being at camp and hopped across the pond for about a week. We had a great time. I had never been to France before--I loved it! Can't wait to go back. I need to start smoking and learn to drink espresso to really fit in, though. Oh, and learn to ride a motorcycle or scooter. Everyone spoke at least some English, which was great, because I speak only about 6 words in French, and none of them are "Where's the ladies' room?" Our suitcases arrived a day after we did, so we were forced to shop a bit. Luckily, July is when one of the big "soldes" (sale) takes place. (The government regulates the soldes, which take place only in January and July) Unluckily, the dollar is very weak against the Euro. We bought just enough to get by till our stuff arrived. The stores were mobbed--a soldes is a big deal when it only comes twice a year, apparently. Armed with TripAdvisor and Chowhound info and recommendations, we went to the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Marais--where we stood in line for great falafel and schwarma. We walked and walked the neighborhoods and the Champs d'Elysee, ate fabulous baguette sandwiches on the street, and had a great time. We went to the South of France for a few days after Paris and drove all over. It was fabulous. I found all the people we met to be friendly and helpful. You can immediately tell who are the Europeans and who are the Americans. It's easy. The ones with the cigarettes are the Europeans. The ones lugging the large suitcases are the Americans. On the way back we stopped in London for the day. If you think France is expensive, go to England. You'll immediately feel much better about the Euro. Prices are similar to what you'd pay in dollars, but they are in pounds. Get it? One pound is worth 2 dollars. So 19 pounds for two drinks in a London hotel doesn't sound too bad....until you realize that is really $38. My 12 pound gin drink was the best $24 drink I've ever had. Actually, it's the only $24 drink I've ever had.

I am regarding this trip as my summer camp and in the words of Boy #2, "Next year I'm going for 8 weeks."

Au revoir, my lovely readers.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation, Part One

Boys #1 and 2 are away at camp and I hope they are having as much fun as I am. Since they've been gone I've slept in until 8 or 9 every day, gone on a long walk with some friends, gone out to lunch several times, gone to a 3:00 movie with my mom, and have barely looked at my watch. I've sangria-ed and gossiped with friends. I've shopped and returned and shopped and returned. I read for a whole afternoon the other day. The other night I watched 3 episodes of Top Chef back to back to back. I don't have to be home by 3:00. I don't have to worry about anyone else's lunch. I don't have to think about who will eat what for dinner. It is fabulous. I am enjoying this freedom so much I am actually considering boarding school. For the boys, that is. Ok, not really. I am back in my old room at my parents' house for a couple of weeks. It's like the home that time forgot here. It's as if technology has skipped right over this house. My computer is tethered to a wall, my room has no TV and barely a lamp. The cordless phones that I bought them last summer sound terrible so I am once again using a phone with an actual cord!! It's like stepping back in time to my high school days. I'm still borrowing the car, asking politely for the keys. Only now they can't tell me what time to be home! Actually, the other day my dad called up and asked me if I needed the car! It only took a week to get him perfectly trained. This town's small downtown is quiet and not crowded. It's sort of like a Stephen King novel--the town without children--what happened to them? They are all in Wisconsin and Michigan and other places, frolicking happily in the woods and the lakes. The parents, meanwhile, are frolicking back at home or maybe at Nordstrom or on their own summer vacations. I see other mothers I know and we all have that same smile on our faces. I miss my boys--I love checking out the camp website for daily photos--but truthfully, it's kind of fun to have this short bit of time to myself.

Ins and Outs

It's so hard to keep up with trends. It's practically a full-time job. Plastic bags...out. Reusable canvas bags...in. Disposable paper plates.....out. Bamboo plates.....in. Red lips....out. Nude lips....in. Food....clothes.....it's all so complicated. I totally bypassed the tiramisu years, the half-caf, double shot, non-fat, sugar-free vanilla mocha venti latte breve stuff. I'm glad I don't drink coffee. The ordering seems so stressful-- fraught with so many decisions--that's why Diet Cherry Coke is so great. Simple, straightforward--no decisions--unless over ice with a straw counts. Then there are the clothes. Just a few years ago everything was solid colors. This year it's all about the print. I was sure black would always be the new black...until I (and the rest of the world) discovered chocolate brown. And then pink became the new black. I recently heard that the new black is........black. So hard to keep up. Even fruit goes in and out of style. Take pomegranates, for example. No really--take them. So mysterious, so difficult. Last year's fruit of the year. Oprah's talkin' pomtinis, pom (soooo cute, isn't it?) juice is filled with anti-oxidants. Surely a shot of vodka or two with it has multiple health benefits, too, right? One website even has the secret to getting the seeds out without having your kitchen look like you committed a murder in it. I know the secret. Do you? But this year the pomegranate has dropped out of sight. Yep--this year it's all about the fig. The fig is the new pomegranate. Figs are actually the new black. You heard it here first. I'm just waiting to hear Oprah gush about this fabulous new drink--the figtini. Then I'll know to be on the lookout for the new hot fruit. Maybe 2008 will be the comeback year for the ugli fruit. Or maybe it's the kiwi's turn. The ugli-tini or the kiwi-tini? It's all up for grabs.

A Camping They Will Go

Boy #1 and Boy #2 are going to overnight camp soon and I am very busy getting everything ready. This will be Boy #2's first summer away at camp and he is very excited. He is going for 4 weeks and Boy #1 is going for 8 weeks. They will be going to the same camp and are both counting the days til they get on the bus. I am busy washing, labeling, shopping, and trying to keep all the details buzzing around my brain straight. My lists have lists. Boy #2 needs a soap container and Boy #1 needs new cleats. I have to remember to send Boy #1's extra pair of glasses. I've already packed the squishy pillows and their Crocs. My friend in Chicago bought powdered Gatorade (to add to their water in their cute--I mean manly--Nalgene bottles) for each of them. It is waiting for me to pick it up at her house. People backpack for months in Europe with less stuff than is on the camp list. And I'm sure a lot of it will never be used. I'm sending band-aids, a nail clipper, bug bite stuff, water shirts, cute camp stationery, and more. I know, I know--they're boys--they won't appreciate (or use) most of it. I can't help myself though. If I can't be there to take care of them at least they'll have band-aids and Neosporin.

Boy #2 has already asked if he can go for 8 weeks. "No," I said. "But, Mom," chimed in Boy #1 helpfully, "he can stay. When you come up for Visitors' Weekend, just bring money." It's so simple, really. Why didn't I think of that?

Knock Knock, Who's There?

The other day Mr. Minivan saw something that no man should ever see. He walked in on me putting on Spanx. If you're not familiar with this fabulous product let me just say that my grandmother would have called it a "girdle" but it is now known as a "body shaper." Somehow this teeny piece of cloth compresses parts of you in a mysterious and magical way. It removes all bumps and lumps--I'm not sure where they go--and transforms you into a smooth and sleek bombshell. Your dress suddenly fits better. You suddenly look better. But the process of putting one on is a little...shall we say....awkward. It involves a little jumping, a little tugging, some deep knee raises, and a little adjusting. I myself don't even like to witness it. I try not to look in the mirror as I'm putting on the Spanx. It's bad enough to look in the mirror when it's all the way on. I prefer to look after my dress is on. Sorry, Mr. M. Maybe next time the door is closed, you'll knock.

The Way We Were

In my day....

1. We took bologna with mayo and tuna salad sandwiches to school and they sat in our lockers for hours before lunch. With NO ice pack!!

2. My brothers took turns trying to lie on that ledge between the rear seat and the rear window of our big boaty Caprice Classic.

3. I don't remember my parents helping me with any school projects.

4. We used suntan lotion, not sunscreen.

5. My mother made dinner EVERY night. Going out to a restaurant was a rare treat.

6. We walked to school and came home for lunch in elementary school.

7. My parents had only one car until I was in high school.

8. I made $1 per hour at the peak of my babysitting career.

9. Kids played with their friends after school. Nobody really had a schedule. As long as you got your homework done things were good.

10. "Time out" was a sporting term, not a parenting technique.

11. Phones didn't go in your purse. Cash didn't come out of a metal machine.

12. My dad was the lawn service. My brothers were the driveway-shovelers.

I'm sure there are many more, but as you know they say the memory is the second thing to go....
How else were things different in your day?

Forecast: Hot and Sunny

It has been very hot here for the last couple of days. 90 plus degrees hot. I never believed that heat and humidity stuff before but it is really true. It's not so much the heat as it is the humidity. 95 and humid in Chicago is just nasty. Steamy, sticky, sweaty, sucky. 95 and not humid in LA is....just plain hot. Verrrry hot. I know I feel much more at home here than I did a year ago but not completely because I still find myself thinking about "them" and how "they" do things here. I guess when I start thinking "we" instead of "they" the transformation will be complete. Anyway, it is very hot here. And here's what I've seen people wearing: Sweatshirts, long-sleeved shirts, jeans, and......Uggs. Yes. Uggs. Uggs and shorts on a 95 degree day. I had to restrain myself from going up to an Ugg-clad girl and asking her what her thought process was as she was getting dressed. I mean--what could it possibly be? "I'll wear my jean cut-offs and my flip-flops--no--too beachy. Maybe my wedge sandals---no---too dressy. I know, I'll wear my Uggs!!! They'll be perfect." I've also seen many many people carrying open umbrellas to shield them from the sun. I guess applying sunscreen is too much trouble. Another thing I've noticed that is different here than in Chicago is that people go to the movies on a beautiful day here. That doesn't happen in Chicago. I guess it is because every day is beautiful here. I am trying to think of things people do in Chicago that would seem strange to a newcomer but I can't think of any. Maybe that when there is a threat of a snowstorm people head for the grocery store to stock up as if they might be trapped in their houses for days. Can you think of anything a newcomer to your area might find strange?

Did You Know That I...

1. Love Christmas music.
2. Had a crush on Cubs 3rd baseman Ron Santo way back when.
3. Hate the smell of lilies.
4. Once ate 4 Krispy Kremes on the way home from Krispy Kreme.
5. Rip the address labels off my magazines before I get rid of them.
6. Love the sound of rain.
7. Once threw one of my brothers against a wall.
8. Stuck a raisin up my nose as a child.
9. Can spell "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" very quickly.
10. Listen to talk radio.
11. Hate coffee and wish I didn't.
12. Have a triple-pierced ear.
13. Love to read in the tub.
14. Love to work lines from movies into conversation--i.e. "I'll have what she's having." Usually I'm the only one who's amused.
15. Won the First Baby of the Year contest from a neighborhood newspaper when I was born.
16. Have very thin fingers and earlobes.
17. Sometimes fall into my computer and can't get out.
18. Used to alphabetize my record albums.
19. Love the idea of being a minimalist but know it's not for me.
20. Have 20-something bottles of hair stuff in my shower.
21. Would rather someone pick up the phone and say thank you than send a note.
22. Have not printed out a digital photo in years.
23. Have a giant box of recipes I have pulled out of magazines and the internet. I know I'll never try them but I just can't get rid of them.
24. Love to sleep in flannel pants and a long-sleeved tee that is so soft and so old that it has holes in it. Mr. Minivan hates this outfit but it is so cozy.....
25. Have 9 or 10 pairs of flip-flops.
26. Love love love trashy novels. Especially the ones with one-word titles. Like--"Deceptions", "Irrational," "Suspicions." Stuff like that. Pretend to be into the book club books but love the beach reads.
27. Hate when people misuse "I" and "me"--it actually hurts my ears.
28. Don't mind folding laundry but hate putting it away.
29. Once tried out for "Wheel of Fortune."
30. Hate crowds.
31. Find it very difficult to do nothing.
32. Find it even harder to do only one thing at a time.
33. Have no hair on my arms and almost never have to shave my legs.
34. Love a free refill.
35. Love Swedish Fish and Raisinets. But not together.
36. Drink too much Diet Cherry Coke.
37. Love sharing food at restaurants.
38. Sadly, have watched every season of "The Bachelor."
39. Think my favorite part of exercising is when you stop.
40. Used to love "Bewitched," "Love, American Style," "The Mary Tyler Moore Show", ""The Carol Burnett Show," "Petticoat Junction," The Brady Bunch", and "Rhoda."
41. Love pepperoni pizza but will not order it.
42. In college, wanted to leave a Bruce Springsteen concert during the last song to beat the traffic.
43. Asked my friends at the same concert, why the audience was booing him. They told me--"They're not saying "Booooooooo", they're saying "Bruuuuuuuuuuuce."
44. Am really into hamburgers right now.
45. Am usually prepared for everything. You need a tweezer, an aspirin, dental floss, a magazine, I'm your girl.
46. Think 50 doesn't seem so old anymore.
47. Am searching for the best cupcake in L.A. Thus, the exercise.
48. Hate roller coasters.
49. Love the previews at movies. Especially love when there are so many that I forget what movie I came to see.
50. Love making lists.

Doctor 90210

Just kidding. Went to the doctor today for a complete physical. EKG, the little hammer, bloodwork, "say ahhhh", the whole works. What a nice man. Completely normal. Didn't try to sell me a new nose or any strange devices to insert inside myself. He spent a lot of time with me, answered my questions, and has a lovely and very reassuring manner. He told me my heart is fine. My children will be happy to know I actually have one. I don't remember why, but he mentioned blogs and I told him I have one. I gave him the address and he said he would check it out. If you read this, Doc, it was great to meet you, but as I tell all the repairmen who come to my house, I hope I don't see you for quite a while! By the way, do you have a dentist you can refer me to?.....

Dentist 90210

I had a real L.A. moment today. A freaky, creepy moment. Maybe I'm too old. Maybe I'm too midwestern. Or maybe it's just..I dunno...that I'm normal? I was at the dentist's office. My new dentist. My new L.A. dentist. I had gotten a referral from my Chicago dentist for a dentist here. Unfortunately, between the time I got the referral and the time I called him, he had passed away. His wife was nice enough to call me back and refer me to the dentist she was going to be using. So I filled out all the forms, had x-rays taken, and was sitting in the chair when the dentist came in. We exchanged pleasantries and he said, "now I'm going to put my hands in your mouth." My first thought was "without even buying me dinner first?" but I was soon distracted by what he said next. "Have you heard about the "blah-blah lift" we offer here? A non-invasive face lift?" "Please!" I stopped him. "Don't depress me." "Maybe for a friend, or your mother," he backtracked. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall had he had my mother in the chair. "Look," he went on. "Here's my face with the lift." Then he covered his mouth and two clear plastic curved things emerged from his mouth. "Here's my face without. It takes off about 5 years." "I think you look great either way," I managed to say. Honestly, I didn't see much of a difference. I didn't say what I wanted to say. After all, he has a drill and he knows how to use it. What I wanted to say was, "Are you f-ing kidding me? Just clean my teeth and let me outta here." You walk around holding plastic in your mouth and who knows where else all day and only go back to 2002? You'd get my attention if you said 1997, but 2002? Come on. The rest of the exam concluded uneventfully, except for encouraging me to get Invisalign, a 3/4 reverse crown or some such mumbo-jumbo, and a sealant for my wisdom teeth. In the good old days a dentist would have lulled you into a false sense of security and postponed the hard-sell til the second visit. Everything moves faster now, I guess. Especially the cost of office space in 90210. I feel lucky to have gotten out of there with my wallet, my 2007 face, and my midwestern brain intact.