Pretenders

Pretenders bug me.

Pretentious people bug me even more.

But, people who pretend to be pretentious just make me laugh.

So I'm at the optometrist having Little Red Riding Hood's eyes examined, and the I'm-not-an-optometrist-but-I-want-to-be-one-someday lady who helped LRRH pick out glasses admires my purse, squealing (seriously squealing):

"OOOHHHH, I love your purse, is that Dolce & Gabbana????"

To which I reply in my library voice, "No, it's Ebay."

Deflated and indigant, her reply was, "OH. I don't do Ebay."

To which I reply, "Oh honey, that's too bad. Because you just thought my $25 purse was the $395 one from Dooney & Bourke not Dolce & Gabbana.

Well, I didn't really say that. I bit my tongue, smiled, and said nothing.

It was best that way.

But believe me I thought it.

Because, if you're gonna pretend to be prententious, at least get your designers straight.

$25 from Ebay






$395 from Dooney & Bourke

Cheating Again

Ok...I know you all are as sick of looking at my right eye as I am, so I thought I would put up a quick post of something I've seen floating around the blogosphere. I took this 4 question test which supposedly determines what type of blogger I am. I'll let you decide if it is accurate or not because apparently I am:

Your Blogging Type Is Thoughtful and Considerate

You're a well liked, though underrated, blogger. You have a heart of gold and are likely to blog for a cause. You're a peaceful blogger - no drama for you! A good listener and friend, you tend to leave thoughtful comments for others.

What's Your Blogging Personality?

Okay, let's report in everyone. What type of blogger are you according to this very scientific test?

Randomness

I am really, really horrible about following through on these meme things that travel through the blogosphere . However, I have been tagged 3 times recently for the same meme that requires you to reveal 6 random things about yourself. Once I got the third one, I decided, ah what the heck. It'll be a relatively easy post as it is one that won't require me to spend an hour or more typing it. (Or at least it shouldn't.) Because we all know that I am freak that takes forever to write posts.

Oh wait, I need to stop and go watch "The Office." I'll be right back.

Okay, I'm back. Let's recap tonight's episode of "The Office" shall we. Dwight gave birth to a watermelon. Michael threw a baby shower for himself. And sadly, Jim and Pam didn't say "I love you" to each other at the end of their goodnight call. Sigh. Trouble's a brewin.

Now, where were we. Oh yeah, random things about me.

Alas Amy Kay , Julie, and Karen , I have procrastinated long enough. As you requested, here are six random things about me:

Here goes:

1. I wear a size 7 shoe. BUT, I wore a size 6 pre-kids. My girly girl doc said she went up TWO sizes after kids. That whole phenomena baffles me. Did that happen to any of you?

2.I am a die hard...I mean die-hard, Penn State football fan. I schedule my Saturdays around watching PSU play, because THAT is appointment TV for me. And, of course, I watch all the reporting on ESPN afterwards.

3.This is my right eye. Wow. The ends of my hair are really light right now and I look kind of blotchy...oh well. Hey, it doesn't get any more random than this peeps.

4. I wore braces for 7 years. YES, SEVEN, S-E-V-E-N years. I got them on when I was 13 and had them removed when I was 20. Do you know how many rubber bands I went through? Sheesh. I hated those things.

5. This is my 495th post. Yup only 5 more till I hit 500! Don't expect a big party and gifts. We have established how much I hate holding contests.

6A. I was born on October 17, 1963.

6B. Today, I am turning for...for...for...ugh, I can't get the word out...Connie, I need help,...ffffff-forty-five.

There I said it. Today I turn 45.

Woo hoo. Blah...blah...blah..boo hoo hoo hoo....

Now all of you are tagged. Go back to your blogs and scribble out your randomness for all of us to see.

Meanwhile, I am going to have lunch with the girls.

Psst....

I have a personal question for you....

This is a good one....

It really helps me visualize you all even more....

Okay....

Here goes....

Like all my dot dot dots.... or ellipses or eclipses or whatever you call them....

Am I bugging you with them............

I know it bugs my real life friend Lauren....this is for her......since I know she is reading.....Oh yes Lauren, I remember....Love ya ;)

Uh Debbie, can you get on with it...please....

Oh the question, right....

Ummmm....

How Tall are you?

I'll go first.....

My Secret

Kat at Sunshine and Lemonade has revealed a big secret about herself today. She has revealed her political leanings. Gasp! She thought that we wouldn't be friends anymore once I read it. Au contraire. I heart Kat. My political leanings aren't a big secret if you've hung out with me long enough. But I am not here to discuss that. I am here to discuss this :





and what I'm going to do with it this week. Because my secret, is that I decorate. And I decorate for other people. Gasp again. I am not a professional, and I don't have any experience other than helping friends and family ...and maybe, perhaps I have a little bit of vision of how things should/could look. I've even helped a couple of people I don't know who have been referred by other friends. Crazy. Scary. I won't let people pay me because I don't have any edumakation in it. I just enjoy the creativity and helping them. Although...I do have a Kirkland's gift card sitting staring me in the face right now from a friend who felt compelled to "compensate" me after I helped rearrange furniture in her basement. I have had a couple of friends and my Mom ask why I don't talk about decorating on my blog. Well, because that isn't what I came here to talk about, and most importantly, I just suck at taking pictures. It's the truth. And without good pictures, it just never looks as good as it does in real life.

So why talk about it now? Because I need some motivation to get some things done. I still haven't re-done my powder room that I've had the paint and accessories for, for months, and I still haven't bought the carpet for my upstairs that I complained about not doing months ago, too. And I still haven't painted the kitchen table or the living room coffee table....ahhh the list goes on. So who do I go to for accountability? My laptop friends of course! Now that I am refreshed from my "blog- cation," I am going to attempt to work on these projects as mojo for my blog posts. It's the old killing two birds with one stone...blah blah blah...However, I might need a better camera. Hmmm...my birthday is coming up....or maybe I should just learn how to use the one I have. Oh I can see it now, The Man is squirming in his office reading this and shaking his head mumbling "Does it ever end?" And my answer is NOPE. Never.

So this week I am off to help my friend Jennnifer (who doesn't have a blog or I 'd link her) pick paint for her kitchen walls and island and cabinets. And no, Jennifer, you don't need to give me a gift card, or money or anything. A Diet Coke with a fresh lemon wedge will do just fine.


Do you have any interesting secrets you'd like to share?

She's alive!

This is Debbie, and I approve this message.

This is Debbie's family. She's not dead. She's not sick. She's alive. And well. She's just been busy being a Mom and doing some big project for the school PTO that took alot of time, not to mention room on our dining room table, paper, staples, envelopes, stickies, and whatnot. We don't know exactly why she has abandoned you all this week. We thought it was weird that she didn't slip behind her laptop even once this week when everyone was asleep. It was also kind of strange that she went to bed before eleven everynight which doesn't happen when she is up doing her "clickety click reading." Everyone thinks she is bogged down and spending hours on BATW. She's not. She's barely been on the computer all week. BATW only takes half an hour every evening to post for the next day. She links new bloggers on weekends. She lines up guest bloggers on Wednesdays. It has become manageable. So why the absence? She's not sure. She was about to pull the plug on all of it. But "The Man" talked her out of it. She likes it too much and besides she talks about you all like you are her "real" friends. Kind of weird when you haven't ever heard each other's voices. Well, except for Darcy. They've talked on the phone.

So will Debbie be back this week?

Yeah.

She's not going anywhere.

And she owes you all BIG TIME.

With what, we don't know.

And like she said, she wrote approved this message.

Newsflash. There are 8 of Me!

If you've been hanging around me for awhile, you know I've lamented that my first name, Debbie, is on it's way to The Name Cemetery. Yup it's right up there with Gladys, Ethel, Mildred, Hortense and YourGrandmother's Name. Oh don't laugh. You know it is. How many people do you know that have named their kids, Debbie, Deborah, Deb anymore? Huh? Zero. Told ya.

For many years, I thought I was the only one to have a birthday on October 17. Alas, I now know, on last count, about 20 people who share my birthday, including Evel Kneival, (well I don't know him personally may he rest in peace. He is dead right?) and two others, that I went to college with, born the exact day and year. Boo Hoo. I thought I was different. I'm not. So I rested in knowing that my first name and maiden last name are probably so unique that I was probably the only one. I now know that to be true. (How? I'll tell ya in a minute.) But when I got married, I discovered that, gasp, there is another one of me in on my husband's side of the family. As if that wasn't bad enough, I have now discovered there are EIGHT of me in the United States. EIGHT! Eight people with my same name! How do I know this? Because one of my friends had to email me this blankety blank site for me to obsess over:

How Many of Me?

So here's the lowdown;

There is only 1 Little Red Riding Hood. That would be her, I guess. I'm so smart.
There are 3 Hunka Hunka's.
And get this, there are 48 of my husbands! Only one in my heart though...yeah yeah yeah...

Fewer than 336 people in the US have the same last name as my maiden one. And we are all probably related because it is a variation of a more popular Mediterranean name that my ancestors changed by one letter for some reason that was important coming off the boat from Italy. Don't ask. I can't remember why. It's probably something I should know dontcha think? My married name is like "Smith" somewhere in Holland, or Sweden, or Norway or someplace like that, but it is the 10,685th most popular (can you really be considered popular that far down the list?) in the US.

So yeah, I am giving YOU something new to obsess over. Because once you clickety click over there and find how many of you there are, you can proudly display this:

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 8 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

So out with it, HOW MANY OF YOU are there?

My Kind of Time Out

Here is the Third Grader all prim and proper :

Here is Hunka Hunka #1 (my son on the left) and Hunka Hunka #2 (his buddy) waiting for the bus on their first day of kindergarten:

So where am I headed now you ask?

To "Time out" of course!

My neighbors know me all too well... Thanks T-Luh ;)

Note: No need to worry your pretty little heads. No alcohol was consumed before, during, or after the writing of this post. It's the middle of the day for crying out loud. Sheesh. And yes, that is a real bottle of wine named "Mommy's Time Out."

Debbie's got her groove back

Twas the night before school starts and all through the house
not a creature was stirring not even my spouse.
The backpacks are ready and sitting by the door
filled with paper, glue, pencils, crayons and more.
We hit the mall for new clothes and new shoes
Little Red Riding Hood's even sporting a new "do."
The summer has been filled with sleeping in and fun
like field trips, cousins, camps, the pool and sun.
But now that it's early to bed and early to rise,
Little Red's gonna have a tough time opening her eyes.
The good news is she's excited to start fresh and new
and was thrilled her teacher has lots of Nancy Drew.
Hunka Hunka is headed down kindergarten way;
however, in our county it's only half day.
He's excited and scared, as am I
He's my baby, my boy, I'm sure to cry.
So what will I do with my first quiet day
that I have three hours alone while Hunka Hunka's away?
Laundry, cook, clean or jog?
No way sister, it's time to blog!
I've stayed away for an entire week
Yet, so many times, I've wanted to peek.
But, when I decided to get away from it all
I had to ignore my laptop's call.
Giggles, tickles, my kids, my man
gave me my groove back according to plan.
Thanks for the comment lovin', I've missed you all.
Alas, it's time I give you each a "call."

You've been invited to.....

A couple of weeks ago, I read with great interest in the local section of our newspaper that despite rising gas prices, increased unemployment, declining home prices, and overall concern about the health of our economy, that there is one thing in the county that I live in that has not declined and yes, is in fact thriving and on the rise. And, it's not charitable giving. Oh no. This is so far from philanthropic. Do you know what it is? I'll give you a hint in the way of re-telling a story that happened to me on my birthday last fall:

And this, my friends, is a true story:

I dropped The Prince off at school school one day last October, and the minute he walked into the class he announced to everyone that today was his Mommy's birthday. When you are turning 4 it is a big deal...when you are turning 44, not so much. One of the mom's who I'm acquainted with immediately said "Happy Birthday" and gave me a hug. We then left the class, walked outside and she stopped me, looked left, then looked right as if to make sure no one was around or was listening and asked:

"Would you be interested in..."

(at this point I'm thinking she is going to ask about a play date, lunch, etc.)

Nope. She says "BOTOX?"

I'll repeat that for you, "Would you be interested in BOTOX?"

I was about to bust out laughing because she was dead serious, and my first thought was, really, who wants to hear that on the day they are officially in their mid forties, and secondly, I know I have laugh lines, but I don't think I am at the point of needing injections of artificial-I-don't-know-what yet.

At this point, I'm trying so hard not to laugh because I don't think she grasped the irony of asking me that on my birthday. So here's the conversation I had in my head: "Sad thoughts, think sad thoughts so you don't laugh, think sad thoughts so you don't laugh. Ohmygosh, Ohmygosh, I cannot believe she just asked me that." Still looking to her left and then to her right to make sure no one else was around and listening, she told me that she was having a BOTOX party at her house on Sunday! (You know Sunday morning, when I am usually being fed and taught the word of God.) And then as if she felt I needed more convincing, she told me it is "all the rage in L.A. according to the E! channel." Oh, she doesn't know me at all. That is so not a convincing argument for me. And what made her think I care about that stuff anyway? I don't. I mean I really don't. Then of course, because I can't control myself said,

"What are you gonna just shoot up right there in your living room? "

Yup, right there in her living room with the plastic surgeon kind-of-ex-boyfriend of her best friend. EX-BOYFRIEND? EX-BOYRFRIEND? You're kidding right. I can see the headline now:

"Plastic surgeon ex-boyfriend seeks revenge on ex-girlfriend by injecting five suburban housewives with diet coke and lemon at Botox party held in the suburbs. "

Still not being able to control myself, I ask "Is he a real plastic surgeon? "

She was adamant that "Oh yeah, oh yeah he's a doctor, board certified and everything."

It sounded like the whole thing was on the down-low because, don't you need things to be clean and sterile with one of those hospital beds and tools? And, it's kind of weird to think you can be snuggling up reading "Thomas the Tank Engine" with your kids on the couch one minute and getting injections of a little something something in the very same spot hours later. Kinda creepy if you ask me.

Then I kind of laughed and told her I wasn't into any of that as it just wasn't for me, but thanks for the offer anyway. (I think) Then she told me not to say anything to anyone. And, I didn't. Well, except to you all. But, you live in my laptop so that doesn't count. Right?

Ah yes friends, Botox parties and in-and-out boobie jobs are thriving here in my neck of the woods according to that article in the paper. I've been to Southern Living, Pampered Chef, Tupperware, Creative Memories and Silpada jewelry parties, but a BOTOX party is a whole other level of, of, of , I don't know what. For me personally, I'll just age the way I'm supposed to, well, with a teeny weeny, oh let's face it, ALOT of help from my color lady every 6-7 weeks.

So would you, wouldn't you, have you or "I'm not telling you"?

a drive-thru blow to the ego or just funny?

Last Wednesday night, my daughter had her second grade music program at school. So instead of stressing about preparing and cleaning up dinner, I said the five magic words every kid loves to hear: "Let's go get Happy Meals." "Yay! Yahoo! Mom, you're the best." Doesn't take much does it. So we load up into the car. (Does a Tahoe count as a car? I don't really like calling it a truck. That sounds, so...so...so not me...Besides, we call her "Tasha"...that's not very "truckley") Everybody buckled? Yup. Ok, let's go. We arrive at McDonald's and pull up to the window of the drive-thru. I order two Happy Meals and the worst crispy chicken salad ever made, complete with limp lettuce and sparse veggies. (Blech. Chick-fil-a is the gold standard for fast food salads. The rest are imposters. Alas, I digress. ) Meanwhile, the kids are in the car chatting and the twenty-something male cashier hears them. He then looks in and says "Oh you have two bebes with you." I'm thinkin', well one is almost 8 and the other is 5, and they don't have pacifiers in their mouths so I'm not sure they count as "bebes" but decided it wasn't worth mentioning so I said, "Sure do."

And then it happened. The comment I thought I wouldn't hear for another 20 years:

"Oh look at the bebes with their grandma."

Let me repeat that for you:

"Oh look at the bebes with their grandma."

He. did. not. just. call. me. what. I. think. he. did? Or did he? At that point all I could hear was the echo "Grandma. Grandma. Grandma. Grandma." I looked at him slack-jawed and speechless and thinking that there is no way he can possibly think that I am their grandmother.

This is a granny:



This isn't...

And then I started laughing uncontrollably. Laughing so hard that I don't even remember paying the guy who, at this point, had no idea what was so funny. Then The Princess yells from the back of the car, "Mom did he just call you our Grandma?" Amidst my tears of laughter and fits of giggles, I eeked out "Yes he did sweetie...bahahahahaha." Then she says, "Mom, there is no way you look like a Grandma. You don't have wrinkles and white hair." Oh, I love that child. Her birthday is this week. She can have whatever she wants.

After I grabbed the food and drove off, I realized that, yes, there are people my age that are grandparents. Albeit YOUNG grandparents. I also realize that there are cultures of which he is part of that typically marry (or not) and have children much earlier than me and the majority of my closest friends who all got married and had kids later in life. So yes, to this guy, someone my age probably is the grandmother. But come on, I don't look THAT old to garner a grandma comment. With a little bit of help from TimeWise by MaryKay and being blessed with my Italian grandmother's skin, I don't have alot of wrinkles other than some laugh lines around the eyes WHEN I laugh. Oh, and and I pay big bucks to get my hair restored to it's natural color every 6 or 7 weeks, so you gotta look hard for that gray. Right now, anyway ;)!

I am so glad it made me laugh, and that I am secure about who I am at 44. Because that really could have been a "drive-thru blow to my ego" if I had let it. Some people are weird about age. I, however, don't care, don't hide it, don't have a problem telling people when asked, and don't understand what the big deal is. So yes, I just thought it was really, really, funny. The whole exchange crumbled my bloggers block giving me a quintessential blogworthy moment and one of the hardiest laughs I have had in a long time. And I'm still giggling out loud as I type this several days later. I hope you have enjoyed a laugh at my expense...you should. It was really, really funny.

Oh, and as an aside, when I was searching for Granny Clampett's picture, I learned that she and I share the same birthday. (61 years apart, that is) Well, we did, as she is no longer with us. But the irony of it wasn't lost on me...no sirree.