More to come...

NYC was a blast!!! I will post pics this weekend. In the meantime, I will leave you with this...

1. Anderson Cooper - HAWT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2. Kelly Ripa - weighs about 60 lbs and wears truckloads of makeup. Seriously, she is a very normal looking person.
3. As usual, we had fun, and a most unexpected adventure.

Stay tuned.

Road Trip

Look out NYC!!

Lisa, Diane and I are going to Regis and Kelly today...only...

NO REGIS!!!!!

Instead, this Mr. Hottie Hot will be hosting-

Yeah baby! Tune in to ABC at 9am EST to watch Anderson meet his 3 angels...Anderson's Angels.

He'll never be the same again.

Neither will NY.

The real danger is here.

Worried about your job? Your depleted 401K? The safety of the U.S. economic system?

Good news...none of those things matter!!! The truth, is that we were in serious danger with orange juice.

Here is the real evil of our culture -

The new Tropicana carton.


Finance - Tropicana to Abandon Much-Maligned Juice Carton
http://www.comcast.net/articles/finance/20090224/tropicana.to.abandon.much-maligned.juice.carton/



"PepsiCo Inc.'s Tropicana Products juice division said it is dropping a new carton just six weeks after rolling out the design to great fanfare, after customers complained that they couldn't differentiate between the company's pulp-free, traditional and other types of juice."


interjection by Deb: Umm...duh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How stupid are people?

Luckily, this clear and present danger has been thwarted by Pepsi.

I would love to stay and talk more about this, but I must be going. I have to write a complaint letter to Maxwell House. I can't for the life of me figure out which package of their coffee is decaf.

We all have to be good at something.

So, in my *free* time, I have become a slave. A slave to Facebook Scrabble. I'm not talking about a quick game here and there, I literally have 2-3 games going at once, all of the time. One would think that if I were playing the game so much, surely it would be because I am winning, correct?

NO.

I lose all the time. The people who beat me, enjoy beating me frequently. I play with my neighbor, who is a genius with words. She is a librarian by trade. Hello? Just call me Mrs. Donotstandachance. However, I persist, because she is a fascinating person who I get to chat with while we play. Even if I can't get her to type or say the word fart. That's another story.

I play with another bloggy friend, who, I'm embarassed to say, I don't know what her trade is. Obviously it is in something that makes her way better than me, most of the time. (although, knock on wood, I am currently winning against her)

I also have begun playing with a real life friend from church. (Note the word church, as it will be poignant in a minute). Generally she beats me, but there is a new development...

Innuendo Scrabble.

Yup. it is what it sounds like. You have to type a word with some kind of sexual innuendo, then you must use the chat function to pontificate as to what your point was when playing that word. Here is a little snippet of some of the phrasing that has been used...the actual Scrabble word will be in bold. I will not mention who said what.

• Sean, don't shoot your rifle prematurely


• get in the zone with the ho


• bent weiner


• don't do it and bolt


• do a complete gonad check every time


• itchy vulva

This my friends, is just the tip of the iceberg. (no pun intended)

Wanna know what the sad part is?

I've won this game more than I've lost it.

Gotta go. It's my turn.

Hey, at least we don't play it AT church.

The day after

Wow. What a day yesterday. Thanks very much to Marinka for a fabulous blog post! So, I'm sitting here this morning wondering how/what to post after such a great posting legend is on my site. I'm waiting for greatness here, you know, inspiriation of epic proportions.

Not going to happen, I'm afraid. But, I'll talk about what is on my mind today. 25 things. Yep. Those incredibly annoying memes on Facebook that everyone is doing. By the way, I can't remember if I did it...how pathetic is that? I don't think I did.

I've read a lot of these things. Some are funny, many are pathetically sappy, but in my mind, they all kind of conform to the establishment. The older I get, the more I feel the need to buck the establishment. You know, the rules are meant to be broken, anarchy view of life? Ok, maybe I'm not an anarchist, but you get what I mean. You can't be an anarchist when you have to wear special shoes. I'm oppositionally defiant, I suppose.

Today let's try an experiment - 25 things to/about someone or something else. It could be a friend, a family member, a neighbor, whoever. Let's write reality statements. It doesn't need to be mean spirited (necessarily), it just needs to be real. I'll get you started, and you guys continue it in the comment section. Try to number them, and we'll see if we can get to at least 25. If we go more than 25, the more the merrier!

To my neighbors:

1. Several years ago, all the neighborhood mommies were drooling over your husband when he was planting all those bushes outside WITHOUT HIS SHIRT ON.

2. We all saw you that time you came out to water your flowers and had forgotton to put your pants on. We also saw your wife come out and yell at you to put your pants on. Good stuff.

To my MIL:

3. It isn't ok for you to ask me what size I wear just because we were out shopping together over the anniversary celebration weekend.

4. When you turned 69 a few years ago, I couldn't stop laughing when I saw those numbers on your cake. Neither could the other DIL. Oh, your son too.

To/about my therapist:

5. I was serious when I told you that if you served margaritas, I would talk a hell of a lot more.

6. You remind me of Michael Scott from the Office.

About my blog readers:

7. You guys rule. I have a fabulous time with you all.

8. I really love comments. Don't be shy.


**update** we now have #9-25 completed! Please check the comment section so you can number your items. :)

One from the east coast.

Kids, today is another lucky day here in Debland. First, I had the privilege of Jessica Bern(www.bernthis.com) being a guest poster all the way from California.

Today, we will hear from a way cool east coast chick. Everyone, please welcome Marinka, from NYC (http://nycmomandmore.blogspot.com/) She is friends with Jessica. Like Jessica, she is filled with truckloads of humorous observations, and you get to read them. I'll never think about pepper mills again without remembering Marinka.

Note to my other bloggy buddies: One of these days, you will be asked to guest post for me. Beware!!

And now, heeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssss Marinka!!

Pepper Mill

I used to date a man who was way too good looking for me. Like people would see us together and I could read their minds. "She must be loaded," some would think. "She's got to be a cousin or something," others would be convinced. "You can't tell from the looks of her," yet another contingent would muse, "but I bet that she has a trick pelvis or something."

The price that I paid for being in an unnatural relationship is that this Adonis mortified me in restaurants. Our food would arrive, and the waiter would drag the table leg of a pepper mill over , asking "some pepper?" Now, I have no idea why they don't just put a pepper shaker on the table and spare everyone this song and dance and if I ever meet the person who started this trend, we will have words, believe you me, but I'm one of those people who accepts things as they are and doesn't push for change. You won't find me on the front lines of any revolution, unless the front lines are being served chocolate mousse, in which case, just try and keep me away from whatever the hell cause it is that we're fighting for.

But anyway, back to Adonis. Somewhere he read (while moving his lips, no doubt) that people who salt their food automatically before tasting it are not too bright so he decided to expand it to pepper, to demonstrate hyper intelligence. So the waiter would come along and ask "some pepper?" and Adonjs would say, "I don't know yet. I have to taste it first." And then the waiter and I would be in a state of suspended animation while he tasted the food. As with all things dating, at first I found this charming, then old, then irritating and finally it took all my earthly restraint not to choke him at the table while beating him over the head with the pepper mill. I'm pretty confident that the waiter was at the last phase immediately.

"Could you maybe just pass on the pepper or something?" I asked him. "Making the waiter stand there while you chew is super annoying."
"If I don't taste the food, how am I supposed to know if it needs pepper or not?" he asked me. It was a logical argument that I couldn't win, especially when he analogized to the sommelier bringing a bottle of wine and waiting while the drunk examines its legs in a glass, takes a sip and says something like "this will be fine, thank you." (Side note: I find that annoying also. Another side note: I'm pretty sure that instead of calling him the sommelier, he called him the wine guy.)

Finally we broke up. No, it wasn't because of the pepper, but I'm telling you that it didn't help. Neither did the fact that I earned more money than he did. I may be homely, but I'm not stupid.

VD hilarity part 2

When your husband hands you dessert on VD that he decorates like this, you have a good idea of what might be on his agenda. P.S. I wasn't wrong.

VD hilarity part 1 (no, not THAT VD. Valentine's Day!!)

Had a fairly uneventful and borderline pleasant day. Then, MIL came over. Check out this card she brought -

Yes, I apparently am "daughter". I am simply a gratuitous quotation mark. Do I want to be daughter? Definitely not. But, I really don't like being called "daughter". As it turns out, the verse inside the card indicated that this was a card for a son and his common law wife. (By the way, we will be married for 15 years this fall. It said things like "couple", me being a "part of their son's life", etc. I don't think she realized this. That got me thinking about what kind of card I could have gotten her for the big anniversary...

Have a "happy" golden anniversary.
To a "special" lady.

Hope you enjoyed "your" hotel room.

You say you want a revolution...

I have a test today. Not for my online class, but for my history class. The subject matter? The French Revolution.

I never studied any of this (I don't think) prior to now, so I do find it quite interesting. Especially the whole revolution thing. Basically, if you got pissed off as to how something isn't really working for you, you can just create an uprising and it can change.

I'm thinking about my own Deb revolution. Here is a list of things I feel I need to challenge...

• Shaving my legs - this gets old after a while
• cramps - self explanatory
• kids homework
• sick parents
• MILs - don't worry, there are more stories coming.
• a house that doesn't seem to be able to self clean and launder
• my homework
• professors that say umm too much
• people that HAVEN'T ENTERED THE CONTEST YET. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
• caloric contents of food
• definition of "healthy" food
• the fact that candy is not a fruit or a veggie
• exercise
• my brain
• winter
• belly buttons - eeew.
• packing lunches
• making lunches
• forgetfulness and inability to memorize anything for school. Seriously, my mind is a sieve.
• Bus stop mom chatter
• snotty orchestra moms
• Maestro
• being in therapy
• having to wear special shoes since my foot surgery
• change
• going to therapy to make peace with the past, learning not to put a lot of weight on the past, but then being in a class where it's all about the past, past, past. Mixed signals????????????
• makeup
• "not so fresh" feeling
• tweenager types
• MILs
• MILs
• MILs
• blog block
• MILs

I'm sure there is more where that came from...by the way, just so you don't peg me for being a pessimist, the list of things I love about my life is as long, or probably longer than this one. But that isn't good blog material.

Now, I need ideas as to how I should begin my revolution, you know, start it. The only thing that comes to mind is streaking. I'm thinking that is a no no.

Umm...aaah...uhh

***UPDATE - A FEW NEW PRIZE OPTIONS HAVE BEEN ADDED***
***ALSO, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR GUESS INCLUDES THE ENTIRE MONTH OF FEBRUARY, INCLUDING THE NUMBER I GAVE YOU!!!****

My spring semester of school started a couple of weeks ago. I'm taking two classes. One class is online, the other is on campus. Campus? No big deal, right? After all, Statistics was in the big new Advanced Technology Center. It had a fancy coffee bar, big rolling office chairs, large desks...what's not to love? Well, ok, the statistics. But the surroundings were posh.

My other class this semester is History. History 107 to be exact. Post modern European history. A freshman class that I had brushed off for a while, knowing that it would be there when I decided to take it.

First day of class: I walk into my assigned building. A building, at best, that could be characterized as a fine example of 1960's prison modern architecture. Ugly as sin. Is it hoagie day or something? No, that would just be body odor and stagnant air.

It can't be that bad, right? I fight my way through the teenage crowd and find my room. What a room, indeed. No rolling desk chairs. Tiny, one piece chairs with a teeny tiny desk attached. A room full of people that look catatonic. I'll be fine, I tell myself. I sit down.

My professor walks in. He proceeds to sit down in the front of the class and finish his lunch. Crumbs are coming out of his mouth when he chews. A staff member walks into the room to ask him a question, but he can't answer it due to the large number of pepperoni slices, cheese, and crackers that have been crammed into his mouth. I answer the question.

Finally, class begins. The first 10 minutes of class, he explains that this is not high school, but it is college. He tells us why college is so much better than high school. I am 20 years out of high school, but who is counting? He then proceeds to take role. You know, where they call out your name, and you have to say "here". This isn't going well.

Finally we begin. Within the first minute, I know we have a problem. An "umm" problem. This guy says umm more than anyone I have ever heard. Really. Don't believe me?

IN ONE HOUR, HE SAYS UMM 312 TIMES. YES, I COUNTED.

Maybe it is just a fluke. I go back the next class. 263 times. I am now hooked. I am a counting fiend. The last day of January, I go again. 270.

See a pattern here? It is now February.

Feb 3rd - 275

Feb 5th - 270

Get where I'm going with this? Yep. A contest.

How many times in the month of February will Deb's professor say ummm? (remember to include the two days I told you about)

I've given you the first 2 days of February as a guide. I go to this class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Here is how many classes left this month...

Feb 10

Feb 12

Feb 17

Feb 19

Feb 24

Feb 26

The person who guesses the closest, without going over wins. What do you win? Glad you asked. You will win:

• A $25.00 gift card to your choice of:
• Starbucks
• Bath and Body
• Kohl's
• Macy's
• Home Depot
• HomeGoods
• Dunkin Donuts
• Barnes and Noble
• Amazon.com
• Trader Joes

and a custom designed

• Debland t shirt!!!

So, let's see some bets cast here...even my lurkers...you know who you are...

Just to umm, well umm, make sure we're umm clear here, here are the rules again.

1. You must be the closest without going over.

2. You must post a comment in the comment section on the blog, not by a private email.

3. One vote per person. Once you vote, you cannot change it.

4. I will accept entries until this Friday, February, umm...13th.

Tell your friends, tell your family...umm, tell, umm...whoever. Let the games umm.. well...umm begin.

Tuesday is the new Monday

Umm...hi.

I didn't get the contest together today. So sorry. My dad is on the fritz again, and today was kind of tied up with other issues.

Come back tomorrow...I'll have it together by then, ok?

Ouch.

I have cramps. Just thought I'd share that with everyone. Have a happy period weekend.

 

Contest starts on Monday!! Stay tuned.

Fun with Deb at the store, Vol 2

Last weekend, I had the good fortune of going outlet shopping with my 2 SIL's, and of course, my MIL.

I had no idea Coldwater Creek was so X rated...look at this hoochie mama mannequin:

I mean, really. Thinking that perhaps they had put on a fig leaf or loincloth on the front side, I decided to investigate further...

Nope. I guess when you're wearing such a hideous jacket, nothing else matters. At least they have a book about what cowboy boots you can wear with your ensemble. Naked cowgirl.

The morning after...incident 2

So, after the whole room switching debacle, we go out to eat. Sean's sister and family were waiting at the restaurant for us...they waited for 1 hour!!

We get into the restaurant, and J, Sean's mom, proceeds to explain to the sister that we were late because WE INSISTED ON GIVING THEM OUR ROOM, AND WEREN'T WE SO GENEROUS, BLAH BLAH BLAH.

I had a couple of beers with dinner. First one was consumed before I even put my order in. Unfortunately, the table was too large for me to announce to Sean's sister why we were REALLY late...as we're leaving the restaurant, I tell her.

Fortunately, we find a short cut back to the hotel...gotta love GPS systems! We hightail it to our new digs, quickly change, and hop into bed. Oh, and I took a Xanax. How could I not? A half hour later we wake up to banging on our door- the rest of the family got back and want to "hang out". Yeah. Right. It was 11:45.

Next morning:

After a hearty family breakfast, it was time for the big family picture. She is all about the perfect picture. So, we donned our Norwegian sweaters (she is Norwegian and wanted us all to match). We meet in front of the big fireplace for the big photo shoot. Everyone except for Sean's parents. For some odd reason, she is upstairs, gussying up for the picture. We wait. Wait. Wait. The 7 kids start getting restless. There is 1 13 year old, a 10 year old, 9 year old, 8 year old, 7 year old, and 2 6 year olds. Four of these kids are boys. Three of them are 7 and under. Not only are they wearing a turtleneck and sweater they can't stand, they are also waiting.

I give the kids gum to keep them occupied. Reds and husband (who as I said is very sweet), make their entrance. We start assembling the group shot. She determines that she wants a picture with her own kids. Here's how the scenario unfolds.

Confusion...15 people all talking at once.

Me: "Ok, Fruit of Their Loins, get over here for a picture!!"

Most burst out laughing. The little kids don't get it. J just stares at me. I say to her, "isn't that a romantic way to look at it? If you would rather, I would be happy to call them spawn."

Picture is taken. The three kids (aka fruit of their loins) are smiling away. We then assemble the group picture. J notices the kids gum, and makes them all spit it out. The kids make it through the picture, and then come back to me looking for more gum. I give it to them. She then decides we need more group pictures. Seeing that they have gum, she flips out and makes them get rid of it.

We get through most of the pictures, she turns to look at me. I have gum, and was chewing it in between shots. She says to me "I'd better not see that gum in these pictures."

Sean's brother "Ok, one last shot!!" Everyone smile!!!

I blew a bubble.

Hi, my name is Deb...

I got this from Missy...http://is-it-just-me-missy.blogspot.com/

72%How Addicted to Blogging Are You?

I am busy trying to think up an excuse, but am not coming up with any good ones. Therefore I will belligerantly embrace my addictive blogging self. Take the quiz and let me know if I'm in good company.

***By the way, I'll have more weekend updates, just be patient!****

The first incident

After a 2 hour partially snowy drive, we arrived at our weekend destination for Operation 50th Anniversary at a snowy resort up north. We were the first to arrive. My father in law (who is a sweet man), had booked a block of rooms for everyone. We checked in, got a key and some complimentary Starbucks coffee, and settled into our room.(aka unpacked) The sun had just set, and we had (note the word had) a beautiful view out of two picture windows on the 7th floor in the hotel's tower building. I was reading (blogs), Sean was relaxing, the kids were reading. The kids were so excited to see their cousins.

After about 1 hr passes, there was a knock at the door. Then a glimpse of firery red hair, accompanied with a sneering beady eyed surveying face. First thing out of her mouth:

"Oh, so THIS is what you get when you get here first? Our room is soooo much smaller."

Sean: "Mom, this was the room they gave us, we had no idea there were different rooms."

J aka Reds: " No, no, it is fine, I mean it's only our 50th anniversary." Walks out of the room.

Alissa: "Is Grandma taking our room"?

Deb: "Sean, your mom is pissed. Go in her room and talk to her. Just nonchalantly offer to switch rooms, and I'm sure she'll politely decline. After all, we have 4 people, and they only have two. We've already unpacked. It's just polite on our part."

Sean leaves. Comes back in a few minutes with both parents. Sean's Dad, also "J" says "J, they have 4 people in here. It will be a good room for the cousins to play in. We only have 2, and our room is plenty big."

Reds " Yes, but this room has a really nice view. I think we'll take it."

Next 15 minutes:

We're packing, moving across the hall, moving their luggage. Evan is crying, I'm shushing, all while composing this blog post in my head. We get into our new room, and I see a refrigerator in it. I tell Sean "Hey, it's not all bad, we've got a frig."

Sean: "Oh no, she'll take it." Starts to unplug it and carry it.

Knock on door, red hair appears again. "Sean, where's our refrigerator?" "It's ours and we need it."

Me through clenched teeth : "He's lugging it across the hall for you now. He's probably got a hernia too."

Reds: "Good."

And there begins the weekend of narcissism.

Things I have learned from Jessica

Many thanks to Jessica Bern for a great guest post this weekend. (((((((((Jessica)))))))))

Apparently, the above is a way of clapping for someone in typed form. Jessica, consider yourself clapped.

The other day my husband said I had a *fertile mind* which I suppose is a good thing. I mean, being told you're pretty or funny is really overrated. I want to hear stuff about my brain. Yup.

Jessica has taught me a few things from her post. Specifically, I have learned...

• Jessica is funnier than I am.
• Jessica has a good group of readers who were kind enough to visit Debland.
• That even though I am only 37, I had better get one of those LifeAlert systems, because it is very clear that I am likely to be abandoned by my family during some horrific accident.
• I cannot walk around anymore thinking that my half 'stache is ok. Yes, I have a 'stache, but it is only on one side of my lip. The left side to be exact. K? I get an A for honesty. Anyone who is laughing can shut it.
• If the 'stache isn't ok, the chin hairs surely must go. Also, that stray hair on my left boob should go too. Clearly, the left side of my body is rebelling. Damn that right side of my *fertile* brain.

Stay tuned for stories from my weekend. Let me just say that it delivered good blog material. I will also say that I am very glad that I have therapy this Friday.

Oh, and if you're still reading, I'll be doing a contest soon. Get ready for some fun.