January 31, 2006
There comes a time in all our lives when we are faced with those big, potentially life-altering decisions, truly earth-shattering decisions, decisions even more consequential than “cinnamon cake or chocolate glazed?…” A time when we must consider weighty factors– both physical and emotional– and must stop the momentum of events long enough to permit calm reflection and thoughtful analysis because the choice we make could impact our immediate world in such a way that even the slightest misstep could cause catastrophic consequences to rain down like HELLFIRE upon our heads! Yes! A time when we must make a choice between what is right, and what is easy. Today, for me, was one of those times.
That being said… I’m taking the plunge, y’all. Today I am purchasing my first Mac. A 15-inch PowerBook G4. Things will never be the same again.
January 30, 2006
The Desperate Working Momma (AKA: Cat) is from the mean streets of Phoenix, Arizona. Because she attended a large, almost inner-but-mostly-outer-city school with a bazillion other students, her creative writing talents went mostly unnoticed, except for the brief accolades she received in the second grade for her fantasy masterpiece, The Monster from Outer-Space. After winning a first place ribbon in a journalism copy contest for her critically acclaimed “Freshmen! What are They Good For?!” piece in the 1989 PHS Badger yearbook, and going down in infamy as the only virgin head cheerleader EVER on the PHS Varsity Cheerleading squad, she went off to college where she participated in student government, achieved fluency in Latin and Spanish, and earned a Bachelor’s degree in English.
Finding herself utterly unemployable upon graduation, she went back to school to get her Master’s degree in English education. She was moderately happy teaching English to obnoxious, hormonal teenagers, but stuck with it mostly due to her tenure as cheer advisor/coach. She could often be found in the gym teaching her varsity girls complex stunting techniques, choreographing new dance moves to Jock Jams, or demonstrating how to properly execute a backflip. Unfortunately, after a run-in with her boss– a short Texan with a severe case of short man syndrome and an infuriating habit of referring to himself in the third person– regarding her inability to “know her place” and “respect her elders” all because she had the nerve to place the star quarterback on academic probation, Cat told her boss to “stick it where the sun don’t shine!” and was off to greener pastures.
Her dreams of hitting the bright lights of Broadway or the star-studded streets of L.A. to pursue that deep-held dream of making it big as an actress were cut short when she noticed she was in possession of a child, with another on the way, as well as a husband whose feet were planted firmly on the ground. So she found a new job teaching English and it only took six more years of that nonsense for Cat to discover “hey, this sucks!”
Fortunately, as acting was still out of the question, Cat unearthed a talent for researching and writing extraordinarily dull expository text and soon secured a position writing regulations for the federal government. As an added bonus, this career change would also allow her the exciting opportunity to up and move her ass all the way across the country to our Nation’s Capital. TGSM, after a brief digging in of the heels, packed up the kids and followed.
Cat soon found that her job writing regs afforded her ample time to write sappy romantic-comedy screenplays, brainstorm ideas for the Great American Novel she will inevitably pen, and to jump in with both feet to this new computer craze called “blogging,” and Desperate Working Momma was born. Even though this bio will never EVER be seen by her boss– nuh-uh, no sirree, because that would be BAD, right?– she would tell you that she loves her job very much. And she would totally mean it. But she loves blogging WAY more.
Oh, and as a sidenote, we are happy to report that she is no longer a virgin.
January 27, 2006
If I snarf down a doughnut, but nobody sees me eat it, do the calories count? I think not. (Er, back in a sec…)
Who are the idiots responsible for bringing back the straight-leg jeans and heel look? Or the pencil-leg trouser and ballet pump look, for that matter? Huh?! Have they not SEEN what those combinations do to a normal-sized woman’s hips?! Hello?! It’s madness, I tell you! MADNESS! Everyone knows that straight-leg or pencil-leg jeans– if worn at all, which I highly discourage, especially if they are of the high-waisted mom-pants variety– should only be paired with a solid boot. Balances things out and shizz. I mean, duh. Freaking MORONS. Live in the now, people! Live in the NOW!
I can’t stop listening to Patrick Park’s Something Pretty.
Ditto Old 97’s Adelaide and (when I’m feeling especially kicky!) Four Leaf Clover.
I am very sad for Kat(i)e Holmes. I don’t know why. But as I watch her sail along on Tom Cruise’s Scientology-propelled Sailboat O’ Crazy– smiling blankly as he screams to the masses about sex, drugs, and alien space invaders, or gushing over Kat(i)e’s amazing pregnancy which is just cool and super-duper amazing– well, it makes me want to sit in a quiet corner somewhere humming Paula Cole’s I Don’t Want to Wait over and over while watching classic episodes of Dawson’s Creek on DVD and sobbing quietly into my “Team Pacey!” t-shirt.
Thong underwear. What’s the point? I mean, honestly.
Tee Friggin’ Gee Eye Eff! Today I can finally go home and really hang with the parental units who’ve been visiting all week. PHEW! We don’t have cable and I think my mom has had her fill of my extensive DVD collection. I mean, there’s only so much Buffy and Veronica Mars a person can watch, you know what I’m saying? Yeppers. TGIF. Absofreakinglutely.
January 26, 2006
How hilariously sad is it that my favorite part of last night’s American Idol episode was watching the judges get their panties in a twist? I know so much of this show is, well, show, but they were SO truly pissed at each other! And I was laughing so hard at the bickering between Paula and Simon, and Paula’s exaggerated eye-rolling, and Randy’s wide-eyed “What is WRONG with you today, dawg?!” And the “He’s in a bad mood!… No, I’m not… Yes, you ARE!… No I’m not…” Especially when Simon finally abandoned ship, stalking away to his stretch limo and heading back to his hotel room for a little R & R with… er, himself! Possibly shouting things into his cell phone like “They are all hideous IDIOTS! I don’t mean to be rude, but get me off of this effing show and I mean NOW! I don’t CARE how many tight black sweater-shirts they’ve promised me! Grrr! WORST! BIRTHDAY! EVER!” And I’m all, “Dude! It’s a muthafriggin’ WALKOUT!” And that was funny to me! Because I am twelve!
In other news, there were some good singers and some awful singers. And wasn’t Ryan working it last night?! He was looking especially sassy in his casual button-up shirt with oversized cuffs, classically paired with those butt-hugging faux-faded jeans. You = Wicked Sexy, my wee Seacrest. Rawr!
January 26, 2006
Momma! I just lost my front tooth!… Hannah said it would hurt for a second, but it didn’t… it was a little scary, you know, because it made a little bit of a crunchy sound when Daddy pulled it?…. No, I didn’t cry!… Oh, hey! Now I have a hissy sound when I talk! Lissssssten! Sssss! Sssssssee, Momma?… and now I can drink sssstuff just closing my mouth and putting it through my missssssing tooth… Momma! Now I’m going to get a sticker on my “I lost my first front tooth” chart at school!… Hey, Momma, did you know teeth are stronger than bones? Daddy told me… And I also know that the sun is the biggest thing in the world. In the universe! It’s bigger than us! And the earth is as small as a pencil dot… eraser. Small as a pencil eraser, huh Mom?! Huh!… Oh! Guess what?! I’m taking my tooth for Show-and-Tell today!… Um…. uh…. would you like to talk to Dad now to see how he’s doing this morning?… No?… Okay, bye Momma! Have a nice day at work!