Mash-Ups

Some things are just good. Plain and simple.

This was a good week for me.

The Jewish New Year began.

And that is good.

I ate a lot of apples dipped in honey.

And that was sweet.

And there was a lot of sweet writing out there in el Blogospherio.

(Did you see how I brought that around?)

On the Light Side:

Julie from Go Guilty Pleasures is running a fun contest where people have 30 seconds to Vlog about a guilty pleasure.

As you know, I am very introverted so I am uncomfortable sharing mine. I’m pretty sure that 97.4% of my regular readers can guess what my guilty pleasure is before you even click.

The contest runs until October 22nd, and Julie says there is a prize. I plan to win, but you can enter if you want to. 😉

Tamara Lunardo‘s little piece of snark Please Stop Just Sayin’ is worth reading because it is fabulous — but to fully enjoy the piece, you actually have to keep going and read all the comments because they are positively divine. Like totes. El oh el. Just Sayin’. 😉

Chase McFadden wrote a piece for Aiming Low called “Elementary School Pictures: Yes, You’re Supposed To Look Like a Dope.” It’s beyond funny. SPOILER ALERT: There is no picture. I will keep hoping for a follow-up. And this reminds me. My boy’s school picture day is probably coming up. I’d better have a looksie at ye olde school calendar.

Going Deeper:

The ever-scintillating Piper Bayard wrote a hilarious but simultaneously poignant piece called “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll run for President.” I am totally ready to vote for her. I believe in her platform. As long as she eventually tells me if she is for or against platform shoes. This could be a deal-breaker.

Chrissy wrote a piece called “Grateful” that should be anthologized. If you have traveled a long distance only to land in a really bad motel — especially when you expected something entirely different , this is the piece for you. It will split your heart open. This essay was a guest post hosted by Deb Bryan — who has a fabulous Friday Series called For This I am Grateful. You can usually find Chrissy at silverfinofhope.

Amanda Williams‘ piece “Everyone You Meet” explores the story of how Amanda was the recipient of some hateful glares when her children started behaving badly at a restaurant. The piece made me think about how many times I have watched that same scene that Amanda described and how different people react. Amanda reminds us gently that we could all do with being a little more patient with each other. You can find Amanda at Life. Edited.

On the Writing Front:

Kristen Lamb wrote a boatload of great stuff this week, thus proving once again that she is part cyborg. (Seriously, when does this woman sleep?) In The Doctor is in the House–Novel Diagnostics KL helps writers make sure they don’t make newbie mistakes. Also, she wrote “Meet The Maven: We’re Here Whether You Want Us Or Not” which is a great take on the folks on Twitter who can really help you out when you are feeling like a twit.

A Ridiculous Video That Brings Me Joy:

If you are unfamiliar with The Annoying Orange series, all I can say is where have you been? Seriously, they are extremely addictive. And with all the apple activity that I had this week… well, just enjoy it. If you can make it through the advertisement, it’s worth a good giggle.

Monkey is fencing this weekend. So we will be en garde.

What have you read that was delicious?

When I was young, I loved the Lawrence Welk Show. I know. I am a dork. But, seriously, I wished I could be one of the women in the floofy dresses because each week Lawrence would wiggle his finger and select one of them to dance with him in the spotlight at the end of his show. So, I swooned for Lawrence Welk. What of it?

Anyway, since I never got to dance with him, I’ve decided to become Lawrence Welk, put on my orange suit, and pull some people into the spotlight.  I hope you’ll check out a few of the amazing posts that showed up this week.

First, Piper Bayard posted a great piece called “The Power of a Swift Kick” about a wonderful teacher in her life who kept her out of the double-wide and prevented her from being the mommy to four baby-daddies.

Leonore at As A Linguist wrote a beautiful piece entitled “The Tween Students” about how difficult it is to read college diagnostic essay tests and interpret what the results might mean. Boy, could I relate to that one.

Steve at Brown Road Chronicles wrote a phenomenal piece called “The Meaning of Life” where an anxious writer puts in a call to figure out if he is “worthy” of moving up to the next level with his writing.

Jessica Buttram‘s “Drive-By Blogger” got me thinking about the folks in chain-gangs — and about my own sins.

Chase McFadden had me laughing as his children were, once again, doing something hilarious with rocks in his post “The Von Trapp Children Wash Rocks”.

I fell in love with Abby Has Issues a little this week. She had me at “Being Punctual” where she discusses the overuse of air quotation marks and frets over other punctuation that don’t seem to get anywhere near as much attention.

Finally, it would be selfish of me not to report that MomComm is having a contest to win a blog critique. You have to go to her place for the details. Just so you know, I plan to win.

And now, until we meet again… Adios. Au revoir. Auf Wiedersehen.

What color dress are you wearing today? And why should I pick you to dance? And is it just me or did Lawrence like his baton a little too much?

I just saw this video, and I had to share it.

Along with a few other things that make me purr.

I love that my husband surprised me for our recent 16th wedding anniversary. We had no real plans, but we ended up at a favorite restaurant for dinner. The meal was divine. Sublime. We felt like we had been transported back to our days in New Orleans when the food was perfect and we were young and our love was new. The next morning, we sped off to Mirbeau Inn & Spa for a little day trip and enjoyed a fabulous couples-massage. (Thank you Ken & Rachel!) Can you say “purr”?

I love that my son will be coming home from overnight camp on Sunday. I am sure he has had a great time, but I am ready for him to come back now, please. In the past he has hinted that he would like to stay all summer, but I’m thinking 3 weeks in long enough. When I see him, I will smell his stinky hair and purr.

As far as music goes, I just got Keb’ Mo‘s song “My Baby’s Telling Lies” as a free download from iTunes. I have listened to it a hundred times. Go and get it. Fo’ Free.

And as far as blogs go, I have been loving Tamara Lunardo’s entire series on “30 days of Vegetarianism.” That girl loves her some bacon, but she is going strong. Even when she had to take a pass on the Caesar salad. (It had anchovies in it!) Check out her blog here. She has it all: from G-d to Tattoos.

It’s been gloriously sunny, and since I’m an exothermic heat-seeking lizard-girl, I’m heading out to sit and spend the day with my friend at her pool. Unless it rains, in which case we will go see the movie The Help, which I understand is very good.

What’s got you going this Purrsday?

To celebrate my 200th post the other day, I told people if they commented, I would create a new post explaining how we met. Of course, I explained, all the content would be a lie. (Especially since I don’t know most of the people who post on my blog.) So here it is: a piece of fiction to include everyone one of you who was brave enough to leave a comment. I hope you enjoy this brief digression, where I veered off-course — away from parenting and education — and went straight to fiction.

I would like to encourage people to click the highlighted names to see the work of any bloggers with whom you might not be familiar. In addition to being my cyber-friends, these people are truly great writers.

• • •

Blackwatertown and I met on a chilly day in Bratislava as we fled hand-in-hand across an icy river. We’d had to spend an uncomfortable night hiding in a chicken coop because we couldn’t find a proper hotel. Covered in feathers and fowl feces, we carefully made our way across the creaky ice. I am forever grateful that he was wiling to share his single mitten.

Betsy W. and I met during our stint at Harvard Medical School at that cool bar where we stayed up late discussing the scaphoid, the lunate and the triquetrium. We bonded over our devotion to the fourteen phalanges.

I met Chrystal at a high-end mattress store in Savannah, Georgia where she insisted I bounce up and down at least 16 times on the Sealy to make sure the Posturepedic was really what I wanted. Of course she was right: the pillow top was too soft.

I met Ricky Anderson in 3rd grade after Chuck E. punched him in the nose on the playground. While the blood poured from his nostrils, I went in search of toilet paper to stop the oozing gush.

SaveSprinkles1234 and I met during the intermission of a really boring orchestra concert. We laughed as we met in the lobby and decided to grab a quick cup of chai and talk about the poor performance. Outside in the chilly air, Sprinkles found a cardboard box filled with abandoned kittens and insisted that she would take them all home and raise them up — and that’s exactly what she did.

Larisa and I met while we worked briefly as U.S. spies in the former Soviet Union. We were crammed inside a tiny airplane, trying to sneak into Tajikistan — under the radar, you might say. I’m probably not supposed to say that we were spies. I’m sorry, Larisa. I hope you are not a spy anymore. If you are, I have just put you into terrible danger.

Pauseandsmile and I in met at Bed, Bath & Beyond. She was clenching some fancy velvet covered hangers and told me they were well worth the investment.

I met Teri when a lost buzzard accidentally smashed against the front glass windows of her house. The ugly bird was decidedly dead, but Teri made me perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, just to be sure. It was very traumatic for everyone involved. Especially the dead buzzard, as it was early in the morning and I had not yet brushed my teeth.

While going through an odd stage in my life where I wanted to cover everything in platinum, I met E. Rumsey who helped me understand that while platinum is precious, it is not a good idea to try and cover one’s friends in the substance.

I met Amie the same day I met isrbrown. It was a warm spring morning and I had been churning butter at one of those old-fashioned country museums, talking about how everything was better in the good ole days when Amie picked up a brush began painting a fantastic mural on the floor and isrbrown sat down in a rocker and started knitting a cap. We churned and painted and knitted for hours until the good people from the museum brought us proper costumes — pretty dresses with fitted bodices and bonnets for our heads — so as to better fit in. Though we remain bitter that the museum people did not pay us for the work we did that day, we did enjoy playing dress-up.

JM Randolph was wandering around downtown SoHo smoking a cigar when some rogue ashes accidentally caught the sleeve of her shirt on fire. Hearing her screams, I pulled my ’75 Plymouth Volaré to the curb and drove her to the nearest hospital. Alas, JM proved to be extremely non-compliant and began scratching the nurses who were trying to help her. In an act of desperation, the doctors declawed her. Tragically, they removed every fingernail on JM’s right hand which is why she always wears one long white glove.

One day I was out pruning the rose bushes when I decided that I was going to give the most perfect bloom to the first person I saw passing by. And who do you think was the first person to roll by on her bike? Keenie Beanie! Okay, so I might have looked a little funny scary chasing after her with my sharp gardening shears. In fact, now that I think about it, this could help explain why she was pedaling away with so much enthusiasm, but I did eventually catch up to her and ask her if she would accept my rose. She said she would take it. If I promised not to hurt her.

D’alta and MamaSauce got into it in 7th grade. The two best gymnasts in the class, they would not stop arguing over who could make more passes on the balance beam without falling off. They had been carefully walking for over three hours without showing any signs of slowing when Marshall came over from the boys’ side and pushed them off in one fell swoop — and that was the end of that.

Jean, Lisa and I shared a chisel as we tried to escape from after school detention. Looking back at it now, we should have chosen a quieter method.

Kasey went through a science stage where she liked to experiment with different chemicals. One day while I was at her house, she told he to lie down on the couch while she put a cloth over my nose and mouth. A short while later I awoke, slightly disoriented, and asked what had happened. She simply answered: “Well, I guess we know what Chloroform does.”

Deborah the Closet Monster and I met while working as dishwashers in a fast-food restaurant in 1985. Deb refused to wash dishes and mumbled continuously about “dish-soap mermaids.” Finally, Kathy – the manager — stepped in and told Deb that she needed to pull her weight or she’d be fired. In a single act of defiance, Deb tipped over a bucket of filthy mop-water, destroying Kathy’s pink legwarmers. We all laugh about it now. Right, you two?

One day, I zigged when I should have zagged and I accidentally ended up in the men’s room of a rather swanky restaurant. Thing is, I didn’t realize I was in the men’s room until I came out of the stall and saw someone… you know… standing there. I froze. My feet simply refused to turn back or go forward. Thank goodness Clay was such a good sport about the whole thing. After we washed our hands at the sinks, we left the bathroom together and had a good laugh about it. I never thought I’d ever see him again — but he turned out to be the beekeeper from whom we purchase our fresh honey. Small world, huh?

I met writerwoman61 at a Farmer’s Market while on vacation. She taught me how to select the freshest cucumbers and told me which vendors had the freshest goods. She also told me I should always buy cucumbers in threes. So I do.

At one point, I entered myself in a LEGO building contest to see who could create the best creation. Hundreds of people were there, but Ray Colon stood to my left and Limr stood to my right. We each had 10 minutes to sketch and one hour to build. Limr created an amazing dragon with huge wings. Ray crafted a vehicle that morphed into a really tall tower. I made an emu that carried a jewel of enchantment on his back. We all lost.

Christian Emmett and I met at a rock concert. I can’t remember the name of the band because it was that long ago, but at some point someone started passing around a joint. I could not have been older than 14 years old, but I was terrified. I didn’t want any. I looked at my friends, who were all partaking. I didn’t know what to do. Christian, a complete stranger, saw my fear and simply took the reefer out of my hand and passed it to the person sitting to his immediate right. We played footsies for the rest of the show.

Having just ended a terrible relationship, suchmeagerinsight and I found ourselves alone in Cancun, Mexico. It was a balmy evening when she started eating the entire contents of a large glass container filled with maraschino cherries while lying in her white-netted hammock. What she didn’t realize was that the cherries had been packed in liquor and she got mad-drunk on cherry juice champagne. I spent hours holding my new friend’s hair as she vomited into the toilet. People generally bond over things like that.

Larry Hehn, Becky O’Connor and I met on a Greyhound bus headed north to Massachusetts. Becky planned to see Salem to learn more about the witch trials; Larry wanted to go to Trinity Church, and I wanted to go to Fenway Park to catch a Red Sawx game. Alas, our bus overheated in Pine Bluff, Arkansas and — after waiting 17 hours for another bus to show up in sweltering summer temperatures — we decided to Rent-a-Lemon for $38 and drive the rest of the way together. We never made it. But we had a great time at Busch Gardens Amusement Park in Virgina.

After seeing Bo Derek in the movie 10, I decided to try the whole “corn-row braids thing.” After a few weeks, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake and, as I sat in on a bench the local mall crying my eyes out, Ermigal sat down next to me. I told her how I regretted my decision while she licked her vanilla & chocolate swirl ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles, and by the time she had finished her frozen treat, she selflessly offered to help me take out each and every bead and braid. It took 4 hours, but she never complained.

Some of you may have heard about how Annie, redheadstepmom and I unintentionally stopped a robbery. Redheadstepmom had an itch on her elbow, so she set her tuba case down on the curb and, as the rapscallion tried to make his getaway on foot, he stumbled over her over-sized instrument. Annie and I heard people screaming, “Stop that thief!” so we tackled the guy, giving the police just enough time to arrive on the scene, arrest the villain, and recover the stolen loot.

Jodi and Faith and I met at a barbecue for some people none of us knew. As we waited for our hot-dogs to grill, we looked at the condiments and had an exhaustive conversation about different types of mustard. Since then, we always exchange Grey Poupon for the holidays.

One winter, Educlaytion and Leanne Shirtliffe were wearing white snowsuits and lying in the snow on a curb outside of Bowness Park just 7.5 miles outside of the city center of Calgary, Canada. The two had been looking at the patterns they saw in the clouds when I tripped and fell over their legs. As I apologized profusely, Leanne laughed hysterically but Clay was all “Whaaat?” We found a nearby coffee shop to defrost and talked about “action verbs” for hours.

I would expect Val Erde to remember that we first spoke at the base of Mount Etna. But the only reason we met there was because I stalked her! I had been told I simply had to make authentic Italian calamari, so when she purchased the last octopus at the fish market and put it on ice in a big cooler, I simply could not let her go. When she stopped for that hot-dog in Sicily, I tried to swap my inexpensive Kappa knock-off tee-shirt for her box-o-seafood. Of course, she caught me red-handed. Nevertheless, she graciously invited me to her beautiful apartment where we promptly burned the octopus and overcooked the pasta.

• • •

Thanks for helping me celebrate my 200th post with some fun fiction!

How’d I do? Let me know if I forgot any details. Or if you missed out on that post, feel free to remind me how we met!

This is the fun part of the show where I get to tell you about some great reads that you might have missed this week. As usual, I try to get one from the chicks and one from the dudes. This week, I even have one a hilarious video clip. Totally worth the 1 minute and 47 seconds. Trust me.

From the Chicks: Girl on the Contrary is convinced that Steven Spielberg hates her. She notes that in the next several years, he is slated to produce six movies or TV shows which feature (*I’m spelling it so as not to scare GOTC*) a-l-i-e-n-s. And Girl is terrified of that word I just spelled. Like pee in your pants scared. So she wrote Spielberg a hilarious deathly serious letter asking him to please stop with the…you-know-whats already.

From the Dudes: Ross Logaz from Offensively Opinionated wrote a piece called “The Road Oft Traveled” where he discusses the idea of rebellion. He starts with Robert Frost, you know, the poet who encouraged folks to take the road less taken back in 1920, and he ends up telling us to screw Robert Frost and find our own damn roads. Be forewarned, Ross swears like a mean ole truck driver (or someone with Turret’s Syndrome), but seeing how many people live in fear of doing their own thing, I can only say he had to, especially to deliver this message. You know, in an attempt to kind of shake people out of their comfort zones. I don’t know, I dug it.

One Hilarious Public Service Announcement I Wish I had Seen in ‘Reel’ Life: Apparently, people have finally had enough of folks texting and talking on cell phones while at the movies. One  particular movie theater in Texas has rather strict policy about it, and they will kick your booty out the door for doing it. No refund. The brilliant folks at the Alamo Drafthouse Theater in Austin, Texas turned an angry, anonymous phone call from an ignorant outraged customer into a hilarious Public Service Announcement. To. Die. For. I wonder if she gets it. 😉

Are you ready for summer? How many pairs of flip flops do you own? Tell me about your favorite footwear for summer.

This is the fun part of the show where I get to tell you about some great reads that you might have missed this week. As usual, I try to get one from the chicks and one from the dudes. This week, I even have one from “The Queen.”

From The Ladies: Abby Has Issues is a hilarious blog by Abby Heugel. This week she wrote a piece called My Marriage Proposal that had me considering the concept of a Sister Wife. I decided I really wanted Abby to move in with me – and my husband. Why? Because Abby has decided she would like to be a Consolation Prize Wife, which is not to be confused with a Trophy Wife. Abby’s totally cool with being a consolation prize, and she gives a lot of convincing reasons why you should be too. Let’s just say, she had me at Swiffer Wet Jet.

• • •

From the Dudes: Paul Waters has a very funny post for all you little history buffs in the house. Or for folks who like naughty words that aren’t supposed to be naughty but they totally are. Poor Bastards. His piece is called “Are You SURE You Want To Take His Name When You Get Married?” I can’t say more without ruining the funny. Paul is one of the very first people I met when I landed here in the Blogosphere, and I have been enjoying his writing for a year now. It’s time to stop hogging him to myself. Read more of Paul’s stuff at Blackwatertown.

• • •

From The Queen: If you haven’t yet been introduced to Kristen Lamb’s fabulous blog Warrior Writers, today is your lucky day! Thank goodness for premature button pushing! This week Kristen Lamb, author of We Are Not Alone: The Writer’s Guide to Social Media and Are You There, Blog? It’s Me, Writer  accidentally released one of her dazzlingly gorgeous pieces of brilliance a little earlier than expected. Let’s just say, the unexpected bundle of joy entitled, “Sacred Cow-Tipping: Why Writers Blogging About Writing is Bad”  was received with much head-nodding and agreement that her spawn is, indeed, breathtaking. KL’s post explains why writers should not create blogs that are exclusively dedicated to writing about writing.

I am so glad I did not make the mistake about writing about writing. But I almost did. A teacher for 20 years, when I decided to start blogging, I figured I’d write about writing. My son (age 10 at the time) rolled his eyes and said, “Mom, that’s so boring. You don’t have to always be the teacher. You can also be the dumb one.” And he was right. I have so many stories where I am the Chief Twit-in-Residence, so instead of always having to be Mrs. Smarty-Pants, I can also be the wisenheimer. So instead of being locked in to talking about commas and semi-colons, I left room for options. Which is one of Kristen’s points. They don’t call her “The Queen” for nothing. (Well, they don’t. But I do.)

Before you check out these amazing writers, can you explain what’s up with that cat?

Tweet this Twit @rasjacobson

It’s time for my favorite blogs of the week! As usual, I try to get one from the ladies and from the dudes.

Pick #1: I’m starting off my favorite reads-of-the-week with Tamara Lunardo from Tamara Out Loud. This week, Tamara wrote a piece called  Tamara, Literally Out Loud in which she explains how much she dislikes it when people mispronounce her name. And she explains how everyone has mispronounced it for her entire life.

I could totally feel Tamara’s pain.

Pick #2: I’m new to Ricky Anderson‘s blog. Because I just started stalking following him, I can tell you that he is a self-proclaimed computer geek who is married and has at least one young’um. Also, he likes to eat cereal. I came to Ricky’s hilarious post Who Is The Frank Sinatra of Our Generation? via Knox McCoy‘s blog and it got me thinking “Huh. Who is the sweet rebel crooner that is doing this his way?” Do you agree with Ricky’s analysis? Gotta read to find out.

But first, what do you think that guy up there so mad about?

Tweet This Twit @ RASJacobson

I have two favorite posts that you simply must read this weekend if you missed them the first time around. Or I won’t be your friend anymore. People like to relax. And there is nothing wrong with that, right?

Paul Johnson caught United States’ President Obama trying to relax in the UK this week. Paul Johnson’s outrageous Scenes from the Special Relationship features photographs of Obama and Prime Minister David Cameron chillaxing together while playing ping-pong. What? Two major world leaders playing indoor sports doesn’t sound interesting? Trust me, my friends. The Good Greatsby‘s dashing wit and uber-hilarious social and political commentary is worth a click. The comments are faboo, too!

Another piece of deliciousness comes from Leanne Shirtliffe aka: Ironic Mom. For those of you who do not know Leanne, let me introduce her to you briefly. Leanne is a teacher, a proud Canadian, and the mother of the devil’s spawn delightful twins who keep her notebooks filled with ideas for new blog posts. Well, this week, you get a double dose of our girl from Calgary. I challenge you not to laugh out loud when you read When Irony Ruins Your Day. And if your kids are outside relaxing this weekend, playing with their water guns, sipping their aqua-tinis . . . well, later on, just make sure the taps are turned off. Leanne would want you to.

That’s all for now. After you do your required reading, have a great weekend.

And try to relax.

What are you doing to relax this weekend?

Every once in a while, Monkey will do something that really makes me mad.

Like on a really hot day, he’ll spray me with his water gun – but he will forget to mention that he’s filled the barrel with a special concoction of water and the added bonus of blue food coloring (you know, for greater impact). So that’s pretty much the end of that white bikini.

Or he’ll tap things, even though he knows I can’t stand repetitive tapping.

Or he’ll leave his cup sitting on the kitchen counter. (And I don’t mean the cup you drink out of.)

Or he’ll put his jeans in the washer and then transfer them to the dryer…with an entire pack of chewing gum still in the pocket. So that’s pretty much the end of everything in that load.

But this.

This takes the cake.

Leanne Shirtliffe is Ironic Mom, and – after this “little inicident” where her daughter decided to write on a non-traditional writing surface, well… you tell me what you would have done.

Or better yet, tell me the worst thing your little stinker has ever done – to date!

That you know of.

And if you don’t have a stinker, ‘fess up!

What’s the worst thing you ever did as a kid?