Kill Your Lunch Hour

Wednesday with Glenda

2011-02-11T14:18:00.000-08:00

I 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 you were

Of Shirts and Sand

2010-08-30T15:41:00.000-07:00

After 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 comical

Dear Papa

2010-08-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

One 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 night

First!

2010-08-17T15:04:00.000-07:00

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 not to

First Name, Second Chance

2010-07-29T14:21:00.000-07:00

When 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 food flying

Taking Hopelessness to the Airport

2010-07-25T10:22:00.000-07:00

Recently 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 take

A Series of Cryptic, Anonymous Messages to People You Don't Know

2010-07-24T11:43:00.000-07:00

Dear 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

Art Proudly*

2010-07-22T14:45:00.000-07:00

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 will

Like Pulling Teeth

2010-07-20T09:52:00.000-07:00

Last 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 later, I held what

The Taoist Mother

2010-07-16T09:43:00.000-07:00

Just 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

Resignation

2010-07-13T13:44:00.001-07:00

I 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 an

Peaceful Cracker

2009-11-12T09:33:00.001-08:00

From 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

Smart/Dumb Like a Fox (in Faux Fur)?

2009-09-17T09:56:00.000-07:00

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

Wine Saves Lives

2009-08-19T18:13:00.000-07:00

Today 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

Kindergarten Krisis

2009-08-17T13:37:00.000-07:00

I 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

The Roughshod Guide to Being Five

2009-07-06T17:05:00.000-07:00

Congratulations! 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

The Dad From "Uncle"

2009-06-19T14:27:00.000-07:00

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 a

You've Waited Too Long to Potty Train When...

2009-06-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

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

New Mom Felony Prevention

2009-06-11T08:45:00.000-07:00

I'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

Forty Five Minutes

2009-06-09T12:04:00.000-07:00

A 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

An Adult's Guide to Children's Entertainment

2009-06-03T18:42:00.000-07:00

One 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

Fictional Ad Campaigns: Metamucil

2009-06-02T09:24:00.000-07:00

Dear 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

Overheard at My House: Father's Day

2009-05-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

Her: 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:

Great First Dates: Achilles

2009-05-27T07:59:00.000-07:00

"All you girls can talk about is my heel."--Achilles, at a TGIFridays, 1994, moments before buying his first Porsche

Reverse Makeover

2009-05-21T11:09:00.000-07:00

Dear TLC, please call me, I have a new show idea. It's called Reverse Makeover. The premise is this: you take a nice, normal enough gal or guy, and over the course of time, strip away any and all qualities that may have made him or her attractive in any way. It's the home version of the game show called life. You may have heard of it.The "before" and "after" reveals at the end are startling, to

Landscaping: I Need a Miracle

2009-05-18T14:10:00.000-07:00

Behold, this is the result of a mere weekend's worth of yard work, and I've still got tons to do, based on the mess I've made that was intended to eventually improve things. In short: Landscaping is hard, as evidenced by the top of my forearm pictured here, which is pretty scraped and scratched up from pruning various bushes, trees, and shrubs. This is the result of watching too many DIY home

Cute Overload

2009-05-13T10:13:00.000-07:00

Teacher Appreciation Week was last week, and Sophie's preschool went into full-tilt celebration mode, with all kinds of special treats for teachers, including two days in which one teacher from each classroom got to take off for two hours in the afternoon while a parent helped out the remaining teacher in charge. When I got there for my volunteer shift, I was assigned the toddler classroom, a

You've Got Snail

2009-05-12T10:16:00.001-07:00

You've Got Snail is my new 7-minute Zenumentary dedicated to one of our favorite pets: Dorothy the Snail. In all honesty, I know I'm the only one who is fascinated and comforted by her, but I also like to think that the snail cam might add some peace to your day, and that watching it for a few would be something someone like SARK would recommend. Give it a watch, and remember, sometimes it's

Six More Weeks of Winter

2009-05-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

Behold, Sophie's first YouTube-published film. I think she's a minimalist, and really good at capturing the angst of what it's been like dealing with the cold, wet Colorado weather all month. Here she is (or at least a glimpse of her shoes), doing what we always do while we wait for Old Man Winter to take a hint and head for Australia. (Specifically, we hang out indoors, listening to Jeff Kagan.)

Happy Mother's Day, Even if it is Fake

2009-05-10T15:19:00.000-07:00

Why yes, actually, I am the 2009 Mother of the Year. And because I'll suspend my disbelief six ways from Sunday for any amount of appreciation, I'll take the award and pretend it really exists. Now if you'll excuse me, I've only got a few minutes before the press corps shows up wanting to know what's next for a woman like me.

Four is a Magic Number

2009-05-01T07:38:00.000-07:00

What I'm noticing about being a first time mom is that every new stage that Sophie reaches in life is better than the one before it. I imagine this stops being the case sometime during the teens, but I'm still holding a half-full cup. At four and a half, Sophie is real character, with her ability to hold long conversations about her feelings, and short ones about her mini existential crises. "

You Know You've Been Breastfeeding Too Long When...

2009-04-22T14:02:00.000-07:00

New mothers ask me all the time (by which I mean never), “Jody Reale, what’s your take on breastfeeding?” I usually tell them that, whether you decide to breastfeed or not, it’s your choice. Don’t be bullied; weigh the benefits against your personality, your own happiness.They then usually ask me, “That sounds good, but how long should I breastfeed?” I like to say that, again, it’s totally up to

Here's Looking Up Your Old Address

2009-04-16T13:45:00.001-07:00

From 2000-2006 we lived in Nederland, Colorado, where we enjoyed a simple mountain lifestyle 20 minutes and 3,000 vertical feet from Boulder. Our house was small, our driveway was steep, our dogs were off-leash, and everyone was more or less happy. What I wonder now, three years after having left, is this: How did it escape my attention (until now) that the same town that keeps a frozen dead guy

How to Give Parenting Advice in the Most Annoying Way Possible

2009-04-15T06:00:00.000-07:00

Make sure that the person you're advising wants no part of your insight. Your input should come out of nowhere, without provocation, and at the most inconvenient time. If you can muster a condescending tone, use it as much as possible. When "offering" your coaching, make sure it stems from information that is either clinically unsubstantiated, or was popular in the 1950s. As a next step, begin

Is it Me, or is it Windy In Here?

2009-04-09T13:59:00.000-07:00

The Winds of Change takes what looks like a much-needed break in the Turks and Caicos Islands, Caribbean How do you feel about change? Considering Barack Obama's success in the last presidential election, most folks seem like they're a-OK with it. But me? (All political leanings aside) not so much.I say this, not because of any particular feeling I can put my finger on, but because of the

Twitterverse Curse

2009-03-31T06:54:00.000-07:00

Before I begin, I'm going to acknowledge that it's one thing to blog about a dream I had--sure, that's gross enough. It's another to blog about a tweet I wrote while I was dreaming, but that's exactly what I'm about to do. Biz Stone, honey, congratulations. You win.I've been catching a lot of messages in the media and in more personal communications about why Twitter is--or isn't--the hot new

Domestic Activism

2009-03-02T12:18:00.000-08:00

I admit it: as my life changes, the things, the causes, I'm most passionate about change along with it. I used to think of myself as an activist; now I'm lucky to consider myself at all. I think that's OK, so long as I don't become so bland that I forget that it's not all about the dishes, the laundry, the house, the big aspirations yet unmet. So long as I don't forget that life is messy, and

Sometimes a Picture's Worth Only Three Words

2009-02-16T07:11:00.000-08:00

For those times when you want to say something without actually having to say it, today's original graphic kind of says it all. Happy President's Day, everybody.

Three Wishes

2009-01-13T19:10:00.000-08:00

Two of my kitchen drawers are completely empty; I purge the closets every season. We've only got one dog right now. And also I'm a hoarder.Peek at the picture: (unless you're with PETA). It's my wishbone collection, started back before the equally gruesome days of Alex's new vegan diet. I keep it on the windowsill over the sink so that, while I'm doing dishes, I can see how many wishes I've got

Introducing My Daughter, The Philosopher

2008-12-11T09:23:00.000-08:00

On the drive to school this morning, Sophie mentioned the late Mona, our wonderful, nutjobby black Lab who died in July. Sophie's been thinking a lot about her lately, which has included a fair amount of crying, and I guess which is expected when you're figuring out what death is for the first time. And now that it seems most of the grief has passed for young Sophie, she's been contemplating

How to Torture Yourself: The Modern Parent’s Guide to Life (Based on true events)

2008-11-26T09:35:00.000-08:00

Today's post is a re-print from my post over at the Zwaggle blog. And if you don't know Zwaggle, run on over there and get familiar. Yes, both of you. Thanks, now on to today's post.Wake up to the words, “My bed is wet, Mama.” For some reason, you feel compelled to check for yourself instead of just stripping the bed, as if your child would lie about such a thing just for kicks. Notice that

Now You're Voting With Gas

2008-11-04T06:13:00.000-08:00

What a relief: Election day. Today we not only get a new president; we get a break from the phone calls and door knockings asking us if we've voted. For someone who is already asked to repeat herself five thousand times a day because she lives with a four year old and a grown man with ADHD, OCD, and a few other initials, the civic commitment of some people and organizations came as

Doing Some of my Best Head Scratching

2008-10-24T12:05:00.000-07:00

My guest post, or Octoberguest post as Laura calls it, is up at Laura Benedict's Notes From the Handbasket. (Thanks, Laura!)Here's a hint: I guaran-damn-tee that it will give you the willies/the creeps/the heebie jeebies, in that I'm-glad-this-happened-to-someone-else kind of way. Get on over, and comment, too. Laura's giving away fabulous prizes, as they say on Wheel of Fortune. No vowel

Out of the Closet, Into the Handbasket

2008-10-23T09:57:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, I'll be guest blogging at Laura Benedict's Notes From the Handbasket. If you don't know Laura, she's the author of Isabella Moon, and the forthcoming Calling Mr. Lonely Hearts. She's also the co-editor of Surreal South, an anthology. But she's more than that, of course. She's a mom and a wife--a writer's wife, no less--and a snake wrangler on occasion. And it's tomorrow at the

Four

2008-09-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

I.You were born on September 23rd, 2004 at 9:50 PM mountain time. “Hey, it’s Bruce Springsteen’s birthday too,” we said, laughing and singing "Born to Run" in the delivery room. You are four today, and I’m already doing that thing that parents do when they realize that in the blink of an eye, you’re going to pack up your 2017 vegetable oil-powered Subaru and speed away into your future because

Praising Jesus: How the Blogosphere Might Just Resurrect My Tee Shirt Slogan Career

2008-08-27T14:49:00.000-07:00

Now I've seen everything. Just minutes after pretty much bagging any plans I may have entertained involving my greeting card and tee shirt career, I find Jesus--and a black hockey one, at that--wearing one of my tee shirts. (Allegedly for church attendance purposes.)Yes. The Team Vagina baseball jersey. One of my favorite designs, not to be outdone, mind you, by the "Ask Me About My Vagina!"

Marriage: The Great Equalizer

2008-08-12T13:42:00.000-07:00

The second amendment is alive and well in our house, and that’s because my dutiful husband has started working out again. That means that he exercises his right to walk around the house, bearing his arms, flexing his biceps, asking me if I knew that the gun show was in town. “BOOM!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, flexing both arms and holding a one-man pose-down in the kitchen. I’ve

Thank You, San Francisco, Good Night!

2008-07-20T19:56:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, I packed a (very full) bag and left for San Francisco to attend the BlogHer conference. I had a fun time—maybe a little too fun—and met some nice gals (and a few nice guys, even. At BlogHer—who knew?) Mostly I was there in support of Zwaggle, the sharing and trading network for parents. And I met my blogging compatriates from b5media, who were nothing short of a hoot. I camped

Sans Sans-A-Belt: A Blogumentary in 3 Parts

2008-07-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

I.[Cue the Frank Sinatra music to go with the home movie footage of hip white guys hanging at the Sands or the Pink Flamingo or Caesar's, ca. 1971.] [Imagine a black and white photograph] This is my dad, Frank, a first-generation American born in Colorado of all places, in the mid 1920s. Here he is walking the Vegas Strip with his friends, a bunch of other "goombas" that he's known practically

The Late, Great, Really Needy Mona Reale

2008-07-07T08:48:00.000-07:00

One more post from the Grieving Mona files, and then I'm going to put posting about her passing to rest for a while. I'll stick to just the facts, ma'am, to avoid some of the blubbering I'm prone to doing when I'm terribly sad about things having to do with the creatures in this house. (Confession alert: I still get a little misty over the demise of Charles, the beta fish I rescued from my

When? or, Tuesdays With Mona

2008-06-24T06:15:00.001-07:00

If most of my duties as The Lady of the House are unglamorous and menial, there's one that's undeniably important, if difficult: the task of keeping the living things in our home alive and well. And as the prime caregiver to family members of the canine kind, I'm also sometimes burdened with the say-so over the dying part. Our nine-year-old Lab/husky mutt, Mona, is the victim of something that

When the Lights Go Down in the City

2008-06-18T10:03:00.000-07:00

It's with just a pang of nostalgia that I'm going to San Francisco for the BlogHer Conference in July. I realized, while shopping for a hotel room, that I haven't been to the Bay Area in twenty years. My sister lived there, just before her life took what could be called a dismal turn, followed by several other disturbing ones, and eventually culminated in one big tragic one. She was ten years my

I Want a New Drug Car

2008-05-30T09:36:00.000-07:00

If it's considered romantic to continue to learn things about one's spouse long after the nuptials, consider this: I realized not long ago that I happened to have married a man with a very interesting feature. Somewhere in Alex's head is a little invisible clock, a timer that is constantly counting down to zero the minutes and seconds in which it will be time to rid ourselves of each of our

Of Mouth and Men, or, Down in the Mouth: Thirteen Years of Dentists and Dread

2008-05-22T12:13:00.000-07:00

There aren't many cruel fates that have befallen me; my health, overall, has been good, and I've said before that, without knowing whether luck is something that you make or something that you get, I've always had a lot of the good kind. It's true that I can't cook, and I'm a terrible photographer--I know these things about myself, and I don't suffer much over them. There is usually little money

A Place for My (Old) Stuff: A Bonus Post Compliments of Digg

2008-05-05T16:28:00.001-07:00

Take a gander at the following story about my all-time favorite site: Zwaggle.read more | digg story

When Day Planners Go Bad

2008-05-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

Since I've successfully ignored my to-do list for a solid two weeks, I'm going with a new approach: The To-Don't List. Make your own! Franklin Covey, call me! Don't:1. Talk about Fight Club.*2. Take candy from strangers--or babies. 3. Sell anything, buy anything, or process anything.* 4. Bring a knife to a gunfight.* 5. Take the gun in favor of the cannoli.* 6. Take a cannoli to any kind of fight

The "P" Word

2008-04-28T20:05:00.000-07:00

Ours is a household with loose rules. We try not to sweat the small stuff, parenting-wise, so that Sophie, Alex and I are together and present, instead of arguing over whether it's OK or not to wear your Crocs to bed. It's not for everyone, but this is the way our family is. Sophie takes great pleasure in picking out her clothes each day before school to create a very unique look that I like to

Winter Time Warp: How a Virus Turned February Turned Into April Part I

2008-04-21T04:00:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, which seems like a few years ago, I was trying my damndest to get Sophie well from some virus that desperately clung to her like one of those creepy boyfriends we’ve all had. (Yes, I’m talking about you, Steve.) She’d been sick with something or other pretty much all winter, which I was trying not to take personally, even though in Boulder, that’s almost impossible. When

Happy Birthday to Me

2008-04-11T12:07:00.001-07:00

On Sunday, I'll turn 39. The end of the road for my thirties, and the beginning of the road for things like menopause and Matlock re-runs. Not only will this call it quits between me and what was for the most part a painful and dare I say transformative decade, but it's also one of those birthdays that falls on the day of the week I was born. I'm sure that somehow, maybe to someone who studies

Why Google is King, Plus a Suggestion

2008-04-11T08:38:00.000-07:00

In furtherance of failing to post any original thoughts of my own, I'm going to tell you about my friend Dawn, who managed to recently do two things: 1. Join the new millennium and switch her email provider from Excite (which, by the way, refused to deliver any of my mail to her, each and every time); and,2. Explain in plain terms why Google is the genius giant it has become. Note that Dawn is a

Double Dipping

2008-04-09T11:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends, Cross-posting alert: I'm too swamped to post to my own blog, but have found the will to post to someone else's. My entry at Zwaggle.com, entitled Thinking Outside the Basement Box, is not only pretty good, IMHO, it's kind of a useful. Next week, at Kill Your Lunch Hour: Our heroine explains why she will never again be caught at a hospital without tampons in her purse. Stay tuned.

Patry Francis. Period, or, P.F. I Love You

2008-01-29T13:20:00.000-08:00

Last year I signed up for a six-month long master essay/memoir workshop at Denver’s only independent writing school, the kick-assish Lighthouse Writers Workshop. I laid down my good money and my essays for people I hardly knew so that they could tell me what they thought, and in turn I would tell them what I thought about their work. We squirm and giggle before each class, and make disclaimers

The Right Thing to Do, but Not That Tasty of a Way to do It

2008-01-08T10:46:00.000-08:00

Every year I see pretty much all my doctors for checkups at the same time, which only used to take a few appointments. Now it takes an entire Franklin Covey day planner, two tanks of gas, and a withdrawl from my savings account to cover the co-payments. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve built up quite a stable of medical personnel, which makes me wonder if I should start hosting those MLM home

Thanksgiving is Going to the Dogs

2007-11-21T11:33:00.000-08:00

"Lou, you've known me ten years now, just a few months short of your whole life," I told my dog, "I'm probably not going to kill you with the vacuum cleaner." Lou hates it when I vacuum. He hates it when the washer begins its spin cycle. He hates it when the dishwasher door swings open. In fact, about the only thing he doesn't hate is when I accidentally leave the room with dirty dishes on the

Have a Merry Christmas...Somewhere Else

2007-11-21T01:03:00.000-08:00

I ate lunch the other day with my friend Mickki. She's a doll who put up with my singing "Oh Micky you're so fine" three days a week at the job I had a million years ago right up until the day that she reminded me that I am four hundred and twenty seven years old, and she was something like 21 at the time. I think she said something like, "I've never heard the original version of that song, I've

Grossing Out, Twice Removed

2007-11-07T09:44:00.000-08:00

I wish I had a dime for every time Alex has asked me to drop whatever I’m doing so that he can show me some random dude’s film of some other dude skateboarding off his roof, or chugging a beer in record time and then burping the 1812 Overture. He watches them on the Internet of course, at a site that is the equivalent of YouTube’s younger brother; the littler one with chew stuck in his teeth.

Boxer Shorts and Black Socks: A Love Story

2007-10-22T09:43:00.000-07:00

The other day our friend Jim came by to pick something up. It was as lazy of an afternoon as we’re capable of having, and Alex answered the door in his standard post-bike-ride best: A pair of striped boxers and the black dress socks that he’d put on for work at least forty eight hours before. Jim looked at him, scowling, shaking his head. “What are you doing?” Jim asked him, motioning with his

Now That We're BFFs, Let's KIT

2007-10-18T10:11:00.000-07:00

Let's say that you're a guy or gal who likes to receive the very occasional email update from pithy writers and bloggists from around the globe. Can we say that? Good! Because the Jody Reale e-mailing list is here to serve you. To be sure, it's not your mother's email list, which means that you'll never--ever--receive emails from me forwarded from my mom's friend's daughter's sister-in-law's

I'm On a Tag Jag

2007-09-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

I'm on a roll with the random fact jag I'm on as a result of yesterday's "tag" entry, and so here are a few more items of Jody Reale trivia, brought to you by Immodium PC, now available over the counter for sufferers of bloggorhea. Uh hem. 1. I married a man with two graduate degrees who insists--insists!--that the acronym TMJ stands for "totally massive jaw." I love him. 2. Despite having spent

Well It's About Damn Time: My first-ever tag

2007-09-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

Without knowing whether it's an insult or a compliment, it's taken me eight years of blogging (even before it was called blogging) to get "tagged." Tagging, if you don't know because you're 400 years old like me, is the practice of sending some other blogger an exercise to complete, and then send the exercise on to others. Kind of like a chain letter that refrains from threatening a case of flesh

No Move is Good Move: A Primer on What My Problem Is, Part IV

2007-08-15T10:40:00.000-07:00

If you're new to the No Move is Good Move saga, you'll find part one here, part two here, and part three here.Our rental house on the hill was owned by a couple that I’ll call, for the purposes of talking trash about busybody people with too much time on their hands, the Smiths. And because their real-life professions probably had nothing to do with their annoying-as-fuck behavior, let’s say,

How to Behave at a Wedding Reception: A Guide for the Drunken Modern Woman

2007-08-07T09:54:00.000-07:00

First, mingle. When complimented on your appearance, say, “I’ve worn this dress to three weddings and it still smells pretty good.” Throw in another impressive, random fact about your appearance, such as the fact that you cut your hair yourself without even really using a mirror. Pretend to listen when two Stepfordesque women strike up a conversation about how much they adore golf. When they

No Move is Good Move: A Primer on What My Problem Is, Part III

2007-07-10T11:11:00.000-07:00

If you're new to the No Move is Good Move saga, you'll find part one here, part two here, and part three here.To add to my mounting panic over our nest-less existence, those were the months that marked the beginning of the end of Sophie’s career as a baby who slept like, well, a baby. From her second month of life, Sophie sleep in her crib, every night, from 6 PM to 6 AM, and that was the problem

No Move is Good Move: A Primer on What My Problem Is, Part II

2007-07-02T09:57:00.000-07:00

If you're new to the No Move is Good Move saga, you'll find part one here, part two here, and part three here.With just a few days between closing on our house in Ned and not having any place to live at all, I found what seemed like the last house in town with a yard and a short-term lease option. We moved into a pea green shack, the last one that hadn’t been razed or remodeled right in the

No Move is Good Move: A Primer on What My Problem Is, Part I

2007-06-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

When I was seven or eight years old, I drew a picture in crayon of a tropical island only big enough for one palm tree and me. “I love Hawaii,” I told my dad. I missed being there, and so did he, even though we’d just returned from a vacation on the island of Kauai. “I’m homesick,” I told him. “I don’t understand,” he said. “We’re home right now.” “I know,” I said. “And I’m sick of it.” Famous

Four Non Blogs

2007-06-04T09:13:00.000-07:00

Jody Reale world headquarters is moving this week, and so in the spirit of publishing a Monday entry despite the shitstorm that is packing up everything I own and moving it to the other side of a mountain range, I’m listing four good ways to make sure that your lunch hour still goes to hell today in your hand basket of choice. 1. You can download my 13-page ebook, an essay entitled Just a Small

A Top Ten List of the Things I Wonder About While Driving or Taking a Shower, Part I

2007-05-30T08:38:00.000-07:00

1. If anyone will ever invent tooth whitening coffee. 2. If I’m paying too much for car insurance. 3. What the hell that ex-boyfriend’s problem was.4. What I should do with all the gobs of money I’m going to have someday.5. Why it’s called date rape if the perpetrator and victim aren’t really even on a date. 6. Why I spent so much time in high school trying to learn the words to the German

Smelebrity Number Nine

2007-05-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

Paris Hilton, Jennifer “J. Lo” Lopez, Liz Taylor, Britney Spears, Sarah Jessica Parker, and even Donald Trump: These are all celebrities with a fragrance on the shelves of your favorite department store. To date, it’s hard to name a celebrity who hasn’t thrown her scent to the shelves, as if she’s a dog at a park, madly spraying every tree, bush and swath of grass possible. As a soap and water

Owning Up to My Music Collection, Part I: The Corrs

2007-05-14T12:17:00.001-07:00

I saw the Corrs perform live as Conan O’Brien’s musical guest in 2000, way back when there was still a little lingering doubt that the show could go on with the same amount of hilarity without Andy Richter. (I guess we all know how that turned out.) The year before that, I’d bought the Corrs’ CD, Talk on Corners, and seeing them endorsed by my favorite modern-day, late-night pitch man validated

In My Next Life I'd Like to Have Better Time Management Skills

2007-05-12T19:56:00.000-07:00

Maybe then I'll find a way to mention in plenty of time that you can order something from this very special line of tee shirts, mugs and cards. It's perfect for Mother's Day. (Depending on the mother, as you'll see.)Until my next reincarnation, have a happy day, mothers!

Addicted to Recovery, or, This is What Sleep Deprivation Can Do to a Person

2007-05-07T10:33:00.000-07:00

I might complain about it, but living with someone who is constantly bogarting the TV remote is kind of a blessing. No, I usually don’t care to watch all four hundred episodes in the James Bond marathon, thanks for asking, or an entire round of an Ultimate Fighting cage match, so I sit next to Alex and practice scales on the guitar—as loudly as

A Toddler’s Guide to Dog Ownership, Part I

2007-04-16T22:11:00.000-07:00

Start the day by sneaking up on one or more of your sleeping dogs and yelling, “Wake up!” as you jump on top of him. Without skipping a beat, show your mother that everything’s on the level by patting the dog gently on the head and looking into his sad, tired eyes and repeating, “Aw, you’re a good girl,” over and over. When your breakfast of a pancake slathered with butter is ready, insist on

To Norm: We Hardly Knew Ye

2007-04-05T11:07:00.000-07:00

Whenever my friend Richie’s dog entered the room, I liked to shout, “Norm!” as if we were all at Cheers, trying to avoid talking to Cliff at all costs. About a year later, Richie and his family of humans and animals ran off to South Dakota, leaving us to wonder how a ski bum from Jersey would fair in the prairie. As the most wholesome family we know, I missed them all, especially Norm, the dog

An Open Letter to Jeremy Piven

2007-04-02T14:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Jeremy, When I found you at MySpace, I was delighted. You are my favorite actor, the male counterpart to Parker Posey, my favorite female actor, and Alexis Arquette, my favorite transgendered actor. (Not that I know of any other transgendered actors, but let’s not let that get in the way of the fact that no one else on the planet could have pulled off so successfully one of the most

Karl and the Amazing Technicolor Eyebrow

2007-03-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

I don’t usually encourage having houseguests, but for Alex's friend, Karl, I make exceptions. Karl will sleep anywhere. Karl makes the least amount of dirty laundry possible. As the father of two, Karl knows that waking a sleeping child is an offense that’s right up there with replacing my regular coffee not with Folger’s Crystals, but with ground glass, which is what I’ll do to whomever comes

One of Those Days

2007-03-22T21:18:00.000-07:00

I'm having one of those days. I say that becuase I've just looked over four of the many e-mails I've sent today, and they start with the word "Great" and end with an exclamation point. It's during these days that I ask myself who I am.Am I really the gal who sends a half dozen e-mails that are friendly enough to belong to someone with superfresh breath and a clean car? I could be, since I caught

I’m Typing As Fast As I Can

2007-03-21T14:15:00.000-07:00

I’ve got Big Ideas®, and unfortunately, that’s my whole problem. Take this blog for example. It’s new because the last platform I was using was bumming me out with its limitations and the learning curve involved in getting it to do some little extra things. I wanted to take my blog and, as Emeril would say, “Kick it up a notch,” and so in the tradition of everything old becoming new again, I

MySpace: The (Next) Final Frontier

2006-12-21T21:03:00.000-08:00

I am Time’s Person of the Year. And so are you. In fact, just about everyone is, except my dad and David Sedaris, who are both totally uninterested—and maybe even against—the electronic revolution that is the Internet. Personally, I’m thrilled, since I plan on adding the honor to my resume.Lev Grossman, Time’s magazine and technology writer and book critic explains, “For seizing the reins of the

Thanksgiving

2006-11-27T21:07:00.000-08:00

We met on your birthday. I was thirty five, you were zero, and the time was 9:50 PM. We found ways right there on the spot to make you special before you were gone from the womb in sixty seconds: You were the obstetrician’s last delivery in private practice; you were born on the same day as Bruce Springsteen, Miles Davis and Ray Charles, and your head was as round and as perfect and as

How to Ride in a Car: A Guide for Dogs Who Can Read

2006-10-25T21:08:00.000-07:00

Poke your head out of the window. Pull head back into the car. Shake head vigorously, making sure to fling your rabies and name tags against the metal buckle of your collar for maximum clatter. Flip your ears inside out and right side out several times, or, if your ears are, say, short and pointy instead of long and floppy, shake head, neck and body vigorously enough to rattle the entire chassis.

Goiter Watch '06: All Clear

2006-08-24T21:10:00.000-07:00

About a year ago, on a regular Thursday at home with the baby, I thought maybe I was having a heart attack. The heart palpitations had started at about 9:00 in the morning, and by 3:00 that afternoon were starting to freak me out. I’d become sweaty and nauseated, my hands were tingly and I decided not to wait around for neck and chest pains; I treated myself to a trip to the emergency room.Weeks

Surrender, Dorothy

2006-08-22T21:12:00.000-07:00

The evidence is stacking up and it’s becoming clearer and clearer that I’m not just tense. I’m past tense. I’ve been in denial about this until today, as you would have noticed if you’ve recently seen me and made the common mistake of asking me how I am. “Oh God, I’m great,” I would have said. “Look at me! Don’t I seem great?” And if there seemed to be any doubt lurking in your mind that I was

Happy is Good Enough: The Eli Gottlieb Experience

2006-07-25T20:57:00.000-07:00

I’m going to talk some trash about Eli Gottlieb. The author, Eli Gottlieb, who wrote the New York Times Notable Novel of the Year The Boy Who Went Away, and regularly contributes to the magazine 5280. I’ll admit that I’m putting all this here, at the top of the entry, because I am trolling a little. I’m wondering if, one night, when he has nothing to do, Eli will open a browser window, point it

Sorry About All the Global Warming, Yo

2006-03-21T21:14:00.000-08:00

Have you heard of the movie The Secret? A friend of mine brought me a copy a while ago---thanks Craig—and I found it to be quite a good movie. In it, various experts in quantum physics, medicine, literature and those practicing various disciplines of what was once called “the human potential movement” reveal “a secret” that may or may not surprise you.The secret is simple: The things you think