tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45260244814879287482024-03-13T06:59:07.095-07:00Kill Your Lunch HourSarcasm served anytime, for work avoidance and procrastination purposes only.Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-28643614036450398662013-06-03T17:07:00.004-07:002023-02-24T17:16:49.889-08:00Don SkixoteSure it's summertime now. But let's take a moment to enjoy the evergreen material that is laughing at all my wintertime mishaps. Whenever/wherever you're reading this, have an active day!
It takes a certain kind of person to snap one of her ski poles in half just getting on a chairlift. It was my first ride up of the day—my second of the season—and I was trying to feel good Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-21915940402692072432011-02-11T14:18:00.000-08:002011-02-11T14:18:31.557-08:00Wednesday with GlendaI had lunch the other day with my friend Glenda, whom I haven't seen in at least five years. That's too bad, because I like hanging out with her. She laughs in such a way that you get a clear-as-a-bell view of her tonsils, and I appreciate being able to tell if a person has strep every time she laughs.
Near the end of lunch, she asked me about my writing. "Did you ever finish that book youJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-23313271931723316662010-08-30T15:41:00.000-07:002010-08-30T15:41:38.847-07:00Of Shirts and SandAfter a trip to the beach, I spare one tee shirt from the laundry and seal it up in a Ziploc bag. Each day after work, I open it up and mash my face into the cloth, smelling the sand and sea and sun. I do this until the poor thing is devoid of any kind of olfactory beachiness.
I think today is the day I surrender our last trip's tee shirt to the washer. If I weren't so sad, I'd think it Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-65292344240847277732010-08-24T13:33:00.000-07:002010-08-24T13:33:23.275-07:00Dear PapaOne night, long after bedtime, Sophie begged me to write a letter to my dad, her late grandfather. "You promised we could do it tonight," she said. I watched her take scissors to paper and tape the little pieces together to very meticulously make a pair of butterfly wings. "It's too small for me to write the words," she said, holding up her invention. "You write it for me, Mama." That first nightJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-3703024818484583932010-08-17T15:04:00.000-07:002010-08-17T15:04:34.257-07:00First!Today is Sophie's first day of first grade. We've come a long way, baby! Last year at this time, I was rounding up our friends from across the street to see Sophie off on her first school bus ride. I video taped her with my Flip Mino (that has since been stolen during our basement remodeling), made a little movie for the relatives, put her on the bus and spent the rest of the day trying notJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-72902989229781269712010-07-29T14:21:00.000-07:002010-07-29T14:26:09.256-07:00First Name, Second ChanceWhen Alex and I learned we were expecting Sophie, we had decided to surprise ourselves with the baby's gender. This of course was an invitation to anyone with a penchant for predicting to guess what we were having. "You have a fifty-fifty chance of being right," I told one stranger at a party. She looked at me very carefully from all angles and distances, and then said with bits of Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-73790352888109863402010-07-25T10:22:00.000-07:002010-07-25T20:03:37.924-07:00Taking Hopelessness to the AirportRecently I heard the author/artist SARK talk about how it's a good idea to acknowledge the weaker parts of ourselves, and maybe even (gasp!) let them show more often than we do. She said she had gone so far as to take the part of her that felt hopeless out for a walk. "We didn't make it very far," she said, "because she was very tired. So we sat down in a field of flowers."
I wanted to Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-63077571912849546782010-07-24T11:43:00.000-07:002010-07-24T11:43:46.515-07:00A Series of Cryptic, Anonymous Messages to People You Don't KnowDear You,
Technically speaking, the question, "Can you work later than usual this week?" is a yes or no question. The fact that you chose to answer "yes" is your problem.
Dear You,
Sure, I feel bad hiding some of my possessions from you, but I would feel worse discovering that you had ruined them.
Dear You,
Don't give up on me. Someday I'll figure out how to be myself all the time without Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-10008881102492185872010-07-22T14:45:00.000-07:002010-07-22T14:45:57.379-07:00Art Proudly*If I had to decide what I missed about working a real day job during my years as a home office freelancer, I would say with all certainty that it's the amenities. Sure, being able to steal office supplies is nice, but that's not what I mean. I missed the little classes, the seminars, the workshops all provided for free, under the philosophy that, employees who are also fulfilled people willJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-88194695581136722402010-07-20T09:52:00.000-07:002010-07-20T09:57:26.833-07:00Like Pulling TeethLast weekend, Sophie lost her second tooth. I pulled it for her, after she had worked on it for maybe a few hours, tops. She jiggled and wiggled it through half of Where the Wild Things Are.
"This movie is boring," she said. "Will you pull my tooth out for me?"
"Of course," I said, "I'd be happy to."
I grabbed a paper towel and a cup of salt water, and a few seconds Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-66655887588779826212010-07-16T09:43:00.000-07:002010-07-16T09:51:01.878-07:00The Taoist MotherJust when I think there's nothing new for my mom to teach me, she reinforces the fact that, although I'm in my 40s and a mother myself, there are still deceptively simple lessons to be learned and re-learned again.
I come from an all-news-all-the-time upbringing, which might explain the bomb shelter I designed and depicted in a diorama for my sixth grade art fair. (I still believe that the only Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-49167728385274974002010-07-13T13:44:00.001-07:002010-07-13T13:45:08.664-07:00ResignationI haven’t written anything, anything at all, in at least six months. In fact, I’m thinking about quitting writing altogether, but I have no idea who accepts these types of resignations. Perhaps this is the thing that keeps some writers going: There’s no one to quit to. When I retrace my steps to what brought me here, it doesn’t look so terrible on paper, and yet, I consider this last year anJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-71274148933697240772009-11-12T09:33:00.001-08:002009-11-12T09:55:01.012-08:00Peaceful CrackerFrom my forthcoming cookbook, How to Make Snacks Like a Dork, comes this little gem: Sugar Out the Yin Yang. Its origin is this...As a follow up from the My Daughter's Starting Kindergarten and I'm Starting my Mid-Life Crisis blog post, which is probably a lot like the fanfare-heavy Red Book that's coming out, I've become adept at the school lunch. This basically means that I make a lunch and Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-58700997449111650172009-09-17T09:56:00.000-07:002009-09-17T16:10:11.536-07:00Smart/Dumb Like a Fox (in Faux Fur)?My friend Laura Benedict has lost her mind. Or has she? You may know Laura from her novels,Calling Mr. Lonely Hearts and Isabella Moon, or the anthology she edited, Surreal South, or her blog, Notes From the Handbasket. How do I know her? From MySpace, of course.As I learned today, however, she's got a brand new bag, so to speak. She's decided, as she explains, "to spend a year shopping Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-87768540817504977472009-08-19T18:13:00.000-07:002009-08-21T13:13:26.277-07:00Wine Saves LivesToday I sent Sophie on her first day of kindergarten. The whole way there, I felt like hurling. "Are you OK, Soaf?" I kept asking her. "Are you OK, honey?" She was. When it came time for her to go, she got in line and left without even saying goodbye. She looked like she'd been going to elementary school her whole life. The pride! The relief! The exclamation points! Looking back on her short Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-72992399432510105152009-08-17T13:37:00.000-07:002009-08-19T14:24:24.805-07:00Kindergarten KrisisI am avoiding going to the store for school lunch fixin's. I am most decidedly dragging my feet on this, the day before the day before Sophie starts Kindergarten. I had no idea I would feel so much anxiety, such nostalgia, such terror. I've spent the better part of today feeling fragile and weepy, probably because it seems impossible that I'm going to commit my little girl to a big brick Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-6057164415104122942009-07-06T17:05:00.000-07:002009-07-31T15:35:17.132-07:00The Roughshod Guide to Being FiveCongratulations! Now that you're almost five years old, there are all sorts of things you can do and understand for yourself. Your motor skills are now sophisticated enough to hold you in place for a good five seconds after spinning yourself around for the entire length of your favorite song. This is a triumph, despite all the puking. Don't worry; that's a trait that's harder to kick, and just Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-10729652013316810022009-06-19T14:27:00.000-07:002009-06-19T19:08:34.858-07:00The Dad From "Uncle"In honor of Father's Day this weekend, here's one from the "Men are From Mars" files, and one of my favorite true stories. (Hi Wendy and Brian!)Wendy and Brian recently had their first child, and as Wendy closed in on her due date, Brian was going through the motions of first-time fatherhood. He reminded Wendy to keep her phone handy. Then he had another idea. "I know," said Brian, "let's have aJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-64483297027126828082009-06-15T10:53:00.000-07:002009-06-15T10:01:59.501-07:00You've Waited Too Long to Potty Train When...After April's breastfeeding frenzy post, "You Know You've Been Breastfeeding too Long When..." the clamoring for more of my child-rearing advice has reached new (and totally fictional) highs. Today, a loyal reader in Fort Lee, New Jersey asks, "My three-year old son is still happy to wear diapers, and shows no interest in potty training. When is it time to lay down the loo law?"Sincerely,Poopy Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-38021773459732122472009-06-11T08:45:00.000-07:002009-06-11T16:08:19.475-07:00New Mom Felony PreventionI'll never forget the days and months when nap time was THE most important time of the day. And even though we lived then on a dirt road in a tiny mountain town, a solicitor or delivery person of some kind would find us, and knock on the door. This meant tears for everyone, as the dogs would bark wildly, waking up little Sophie, who would, upon noticing that she had been tricked into falling Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-2412216124875423992009-06-09T12:04:00.000-07:002009-06-11T09:21:07.162-07:00Forty Five MinutesA month after Sophie was born, I made arrangements for her to stay home with Alex for an hour so that I could go someplace and write. I'll never forget how he looked holding her tiny, sleeping body as I closed the door: Scared to death. And because Sophie and I hadn't been away from each other longer than the length of time it took me to use the bathroom, I made skid marks in the driveway Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-37301308867681938612009-06-03T18:42:00.000-07:002009-07-31T15:47:31.919-07:00An Adult's Guide to Children's EntertainmentOne of the most overwhelming parts of parenting or babysitting a youngster is choosing from the vast array of materials that have been created for consumers under the age of 18. Without discussing the quality of these offerings--*cough*Hanna Montana*cough*--Disney alone is responsible for an astounding number of movies, shows, and CDs that exist today, and that's only one very fertile fish in Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-26406052828871310722009-06-02T09:24:00.000-07:002009-06-02T09:59:47.991-07:00Fictional Ad Campaigns: MetamucilDear Metamucil,Please call me regarding a new ad campaign I have in mind, the focus of which is targeted toward the aging Generation X population and its collective love of the Young Guns trilogy. I have it on good authority that Emilio Estevez, a huge fan of the Berry Burst flavor in your product line, is excited about the opportunity to step in as Metamucil's new spokesperson; further, Jon Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-69059763412357622592009-05-29T11:34:00.000-07:002009-05-29T11:54:08.245-07:00Overheard at My House: Father's DayHer: With Father's Day coming up, I want to get Jim a really great gift, but he always finds his gifts before I have a chance to surprise him.Me: That's what you get for buying in advance.Her: I just need a really good hiding place.Me: If he's anything like Alex, you could put it next to the vacuum cleaner, or the laundry detergent.Her: (thinking) I guess I'll keep it next to my clitoris then.Me:Jody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526024481487928748.post-72374519738474716852009-05-27T07:59:00.000-07:002009-05-27T08:07:03.114-07:00Great First Dates: Achilles"All you girls can talk about is my heel."--Achilles, at a TGIFridays, 1994, moments before buying his first PorscheJody Realehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02105756456742820905noreply@blogger.com0