Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Give me a call, sweetie.

I just remembered this and have been meaning to blog it, so I ran back over to jot it down:
A few weeks ago I dreamed that a friend of a friend knew Britney Spears and brought her to a picnic. And poor Brit, she was just sitting there, with her crimpy hair and in a pink sweatshirt, and I was telling her, "Listen, sweetie, I just want to help, you know? I really think I could give you some good tips. I'm not trying to hang out with a star; I just want to give you a makeover. And I really think you should listen to your mom about Kevin."

Seriously? This is kind of what I think every time I see a picture of her, but it cracked me up that my "celebrity fantasy" consists of taking Britney Spears to a good salon and getting her some Clearasil, not to mention a nice outfit and a pedicure.

I'm not dead!

I'm just boring, ya'all. I promise to write a real post with actual words and anecdotes and stuff tomorrow. I will be home with Leila alllllll day, and I am sure I will need something to fill the hours of "Mommy? Mamma? Moooooooommy? Mommyyyyy? Mommmmy?"

Wednesday, January 25, 2006


My child just handed me half of a soggy oreo.
And really, that tells you all you need to know about how my day went.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

So this is the New Year.

Unlike Death Cab, I ~do~ feel different.
Here's the thing. I have issues. Whether you know me IRL, or online, if you knew me ten years ago or if we just spoke ten minutes ago, you know. I am strange. Possibly disturbed, even. And within the last few weeks a lot of things have come to a head and I have found myself wondering exactly where, in the hell, am I headed if I continue just meandering through life this way?
Nowhere good, I tell ya.
So I spoke to some of my friends and I had a couple of talks with my husband and we both agreed that we really need to change our lifestyle, work on being better parents and better partners and better people, and while we've had this discussion before, this time--this time, it feels different. Like it's gonna stick.
So I am sitting here drinking my detox tea, (tastes like ass!) and drumming up the energy to go mop the kitchen floor, because it needs to be done, and I won't be able to do it tomorrow with Leila here.
(This tea, ya'all. It is so bad. Seriously. Ew.)
And I am thinking about the post I almost made last night that was all pitiful and woe-is-me, I've gotten fat and lazy, etc, etc, bodyissuesblahblahblah, and I'm glad I didn't post it, because I decided that I am totally done being some kind of victim of myself. I mean seriously! I am married to a good man! I have a great job! I live in a great city! I have a beautiful daughter! SUCK IT UP, SELF.
We resolved to do a lot of things and I just want to list them here so that I have something to refer to, and then I'm going to finish the laundry, mop the floor, get ready for work, and sign up at the gym. Also, the surgery? It's off. I'm 23, I'm not cutting off my options that way. I got a new doctor, and I'm pretty confident she's going to help me with something besides Percocet and no sympathy.
So, I resolve to:
1) Be a better partner to my husband. This includes doing the things HE wants to do, and not doing the things he doesn't want to do. This includes keeping the house clean and eating dinner together. This includes not complaining nonstop about his family.
2) Be a better mother to my daughter. This includes giving her my undivided attention. This includes more stories, better meals, and more patience. This includes a night-night routine that doesn't vary, so she can be well-rested, even though it might suck for me.
3) Be a better me. This includes healthy eating. This includes going to the doctor and the dentist sometime other than when it's an emergency. This includes drinking lots of water and working out. This includes getting my driver's license even though it scares me.
This includes loving myself, and my family, in an entirely new but incredibly wonderful way.

Monday, January 23, 2006

So. Many. Thoughts.

For the love of GOD will someone shut my brain off?
I had two posts floating around in my head before I started this...now I have about a million and also a poem for good measure.
One of my posts was funny and about my husband, the fashion plate.
The other, not so funny, more about me and my new year's resolutions that I never make but am making this year because, you know, I kind of hate the person I am lately, and I want to change.
THEN I hopped over to Myspace because I'm nothing if not a joiner, and saw my friend from high school, posting about missing her family, and then a post by my very, very talented friend, Lucas, with a poem about friendship, and, not friendship, and growing up, and not growing up. I think Lucas and I have had enough conversations about this particular subject that I actually freaking know what he's talking about here, and trust me, with his poetry, I don't always. His poem had this incredibly haunting line,
We relived the cracks and wrinkles
On our faces, relived the bent
Bones linging our broken
Backs - And Goddamnit

We looked immaculate.

And now my brain is totally stuck on friendship. Which is funny, because today I had a short conversation with one of my coworkers about the nature of friendship. We are said because the aforementioned lovely France is abandoning us and pursuing her dream, and while we're proud and all that, I will be the first to admit that I am totally selfish and was kind of hoping this wouldn't actually, you know, happen.
It's hard for me to make friends. (If you knew me in high school, you don't believe this. It's TRUE!) For one thing, we're not IN high school. Or college. There is no peer group. How the hell would I meet somebody? Well, one of two ways: through my husband, who has lived here his entire life, or through my job. So. We then have Joy, my friend who is also a mother and is freakishly like me in terms of complete silliness, and then a budding friendship with France, who is not a lot like me in some ways and scarily like me in others. (We both dream about the apocalypse. You know why? Because we are straaaaange.) I get along with the other girls I work with, I like them, and I look forward to seeing them, but it's not like I would call them up if my cat died, you know?
The majority of my friends are "internet" friends, though mostly I refer to them as just "friends" (as in, my friend Lucas) because somehow when you say "internet friend" it sort of seems to cheapen whatever you're trying to relate. These are people who live quite far away from me, but have supported me through some tough times and were willing to email, IM, or phone me with love, or advice, or jokes, even though they've never met me. It's sort of crazy and sort of awesome.
Then there's this whole other set of people. My high school friends. Dear Lord. These are people I hardly EVER get to speak to, much less see, but gosh DARN it if they aren't totally tied to my heart and some of my fondest memories. People will say things and I will snort and remember some damn thing that happened six years ago, and then try to explain why it's funny, and then stop, and then wonder what so-and-so is doing, and think of calling them, and wonder if their email is the same, and this will happen like, at least five times a day.
I used to write a lot of short stories about happy memories with my friends, but now when I try it seems hopelessly twee. Possibly because I know that some of those people were happily referring to me as batshit crazy behind my back, possibly because I had notions of "friends forever" and I can't even remember their last names now.
But I know this:
1)Chris poked me in the ear with a wadded up cone of paper the first time we ever hung out, and when Hurricane Katrina hit, one of the first things I thought of was him, at school somewhere in Louisiana. Have not spoken to him in...four years? Automatically said a prayer.
2)Olivia teased me until I freakin' CRIED. Finally, one day, totally exasperated, she told me to suck it up and take a little friendly ribbing. I think of her jokes daily, and still snerk a little whenever anyone mentions the word "foam." She is one of very few people I am in touch with.
3)I can think of about two hundred happy evenings spend with the same damn group of people, and only remember about twelve fights. The numbers were probably completely opposite, but the good stuff has stuck with me.
In the end, I'm not really sure what more I could ask for.
Except maybe a phone call, people, sheesh, would it kill ya?

Wee changes.

I had to disable word verification because the lovely France couldn't comment, and, well, she was getting a bit frustrated. And I was too. Stroke my ego! Leave me comments!
So please be patient if you see comment spam. I'll delete it as soon as I see it!

Friday, January 20, 2006

Doe Eyed.

My husband has tiny, tiny little hands and feet. They are brown (he is brown) and I often refer to them as his paws.
His eyelashes are like Snuffy's (of Sesame Street) and his hair started going gray somewhere around seventh grade.
He wears a well-trimmed goatee, likes designer clothes and expensive shoes, and generally looks more polished than any man who married me ought to be.
Sometimes I love him so much but he seems so far away from me, and then he laughs at one of my stupid, stupid jokes...and all is well.

Thursday, January 19, 2006


I am supposed to leave to catch the bus in approximately a half an hour, and do you know what I am doing? I am sitting here with unbrushed teeth, in my bathrobe, writing this blog entry.
I believe I will be taking the 11:45 bus instead.
Do you know what happens to your body when you take a lot of Percocet or Vicodin or similar narcotic painkillers? Do you? Well, I'm not going to share, because it's gross, but trust. Me. Drink looooots of water.
I made the decision to try not to take any more Percocet until my surgery for a couple of reasons. One is that it starts to not work as well after awhile and I am REALLY going to need that stuff to work when I come home from the hospital. The other is that it's highly addictive and every time I get a prescription I use it all up, and...that just doesn't seem good to me, since I used to have random painkillers floating around the house for months after my visits to the emergency room, and now they last approximately three days. And the the OTHER reason is that it makes me all puffy and bloated and stuff and who needs that when they are already too fat for all the gorgeous clothes arriving daily at work?
Not me, that's who.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

The Promised Reviews

Okay. So. I bought some stuff. Yay!

1) Kiss My Face Moisture Shave: I have been wanting this forever, since Badger raved about it and said it was wonderful and la-di-da. So I finally purchased it. And, well, I don't think it's had a fair chance, to tell you the truth. It's the middle of winter and my legs are covered in hair and dry skin and the bumps I get when I get dry skin. It was not a pleasant experience. BUT it was more pleasant than when I try to shave with regular shaving cream. I definitely will have to review this product again in the summertime. I had been warned against the strength of the scents, but I bought the Peaches and Cream, and loved it. I would give it a 3 out of 5 on a number scale, but I definitely will update you when it gets a little warmer and I am shaving with more frequency. And also with a better razor.

2) Kiss My Face Srub/Masque: Love. This. Stuff. It was around six bucks and it is my favorite facial product that I have ever purchased. It's a honey/oatmeal/almond meal scrub, very thick. I rub it gently in everywhere, let it sit for a minute, and then rinse it all off. I followed up with a generous slathering of my cheapie overnight cream (St Ives) and my face is SO SOFT. It also seems to be breaking out less and is definitely more glowy. Definitely recommend it for oily skin, but you MUST follow up with a moisturizer, especially if you have dry skin like I do.

3) Lancome Star Gloss in Pink Glow: You guys. I coveted this gloss. The color was so beautiful and I knew how thick and yummy Star Gloss is, as I used Sweet Marilyn quite a bit when I was pregnant. Then I got the gloss home and put it on and...there is no pink. It looks like a shimmery, clear gloss on, and since my lips have no natural pinkness to them, I look like a glossy-lipped cadaver. BUT! I tried again, layering it over my Clinique "Pink Beach" lipstick and that was the look I had originally been going for! It's really more of a summer lip, though. I am disappointed, because I like the consistency of the Star Gloss. This is the second time I have purchased it and it turned out too light or sheer. I think next time I will go for a more intense shade.

4)Urban Decay Liquid Liner in Chains: I love this. The color is a gorgeous olive green that turns to gold, and it brightens my eyes like crazy. It's easy to apply, and it stays on the entire day. I will definitely be purchasing more colors in this liner. They all are metallic shades and so gorgeous.

5) I treated myself to an OPI manicure kit with Natural Nail Base Coat and Top Coat, which I've been using with my Essie Nail Polish in Curtain Call. I was originally very disappointed with my Essie nail polish, because it didn't even last a day before chipping, but when I use it with the OPI base and top coats, it lasts a few days. It's a really relaxing ritual, removing the polish, pushing back my cuticles, painting the three coats. And it's a heck of a lot cheaper than going to the salon!

Yesterday I bought an Estee Lauder eyeshadow compact, and it came with a gift, but since I haven't used anything yet I'll tell you all about it later. :-)

Also, I have discovered the perfect mascara combination: One coat of Lancome Definicils, then, immediately, a coat of Maybelline Illegal Lengths. This makes my lashes sooooo long and defined, but the Illegal Lengths is thick enough to keep them from looking spindly. I use the waterproof, so it doesn't smudge, but since the first coat isn't waterproof, it comes off easily when I wash my face.

A Wee Martyr Complex

Sometimes I call my husband FiFi. This is enjoyable because it is a legitimate shortening of his name but it pisses him right off.
So last night, as I was hovering over him at around one in the morning, begging him to come and sleep in the bed with me, it might not have been the BEST move, but I couldn't help myself.
(Here is the part where I write my dissertation on why it's perfectly healthy for men and women to sleep in separate beds. Except I'm not gonna. Our bed is too small and we can't afford a new one right now, and I have been sick, so some nights he sleeps on the futon, and some nights he sleeps in the bed with me.)
Anyway, I have sleep issues. Major, major ones. And lately with all the stress of the surgery, I have a horrible time falling asleep and a horrible time staying asleep, peppered with horrible nightmares.
Then when I'm not having nightmares, I'm remembering the ones I had that scared the stuffing outta me, which is what happened last night. I went to lock the door, and remembered this horrible nightmare I had (after watching Batman Begins) about how the middle school near our house was an insane asylum and they decided to just release all the inmates into my neighborhood, so I ran all the way home with my neighbor girl, and we were safe, but then that night I went to lock the doors and there was a crazy lady standing right outside my door, in between the screen and the door, and...well, you can see how that memory upset me.
(I was going to see how long I could make that run-on, but I gave up.)
So that is how I came to be wheedling, "FiFi, will you sleep in the beeeeeeeed with meeee, pleeeease?" at one in the morning. And then he muttered and grumbled and whined and said that I needed to get up with Leila if she cried, and I said yes...except that I couldnt' lift her out of her crib to change her diaper because my back hurt so much. And also maybe I slept through her crying that other time.
Sorry, FiFi. I loooooooove you!

Monday, January 16, 2006

Upcoming Posty Goodness.

You guys, I have been trying to post all day, I swear it. Blogger was against me!

I have many subjects to post about, I assure you. They just haven't come together into cohesive five or six paragraphs, so they are bouncing around in my brain.

Also, the pain meds, they are not working today, and I am cranky. Very cranky.

Anyway, the following posts are coming to a theater near you:

1) The adventures of Jackie and Joy, Mommies Extraordinare. (Or: Please don't call CPS even though I gave my child a drink of my caramel macchiatto because she WOULD NOT STOP WHINING)
2) Reviews of ten or so products I have recently bought because I am so fat and also bloated from my meds that I refuse to shop for clothes AND I am joining a gym as soon as I have recovered from my surgery, mark my words.
3) My spring "must-have" list of clothes and shoes that I desire with the heat of a thousand suns.
4) A post about the fact that my brother is getting married and when I asked him if my daughter or I would be in the wedding party, he said, "Oh, we hadn't even thought about it." and then I was upset. And still am.
(actually, that's the whole story, so no post)
5) The double standard of, "Oh, you're JUST a mom" and therefore lacking in any intelligence because you don't have a "real job" BUT if you have a "real job" you are scarring your child for life by working. God. Morons.
6) Breastfeeding. And actually, 5 & 6 will probably be one whole post about how hard moms are on each other and how the whole world feels like it's okay to give you advice once you get knocked up, and really, people, SHUT UP.

I have recently given my blog address to my mommy friend, Joy. (Hi, Joy! Now you can enjoy my whining any time!) It's kind of strange that people I know in real life read this, but I figure as long as my family doesn't find it, I'm golden.

Friday, January 13, 2006

10:35 AM

And not a darn thing happening, ya'all. (My Southernness is just abounding lately) Leila rolled out of her crib on the sunshine-y side at freaking 7:30 this morning. She passed out on the futon at approximately 9:35 am and woke up a few minutes ago as I was trying to adjust our heating vents and got all kindsa grit in my poor little eyes. As if my body hasn't suffered enough.
She went upstairs but she is being very, very quiet. It's possible she may have fallen asleep in her Dadda's lap.
Have I spoken about my crazy family yet? I can't remember. I don't think so, so here you go!
We live in a two-story McMansion with a furnished basement. (We live in the basement part. It would be nice if we decorated it and kept it clean, but we totally don't, since we have the combined maturity of a college freshman.) It's a roomy house--there are five bedrooms on the second floor and two bedrooms down here. However, there's the three of us--Me, husband, Leila, then there's my father and mother in law (Dadda and Daddi in Bengali) and my sister in law, Fufi (in Bengali) and this other girl who lives here and doesn't seem to be going away any time soon and really bothers me for a lot of reasons. Maybe because my mother in law likes her better than me. As does my sister in law. That's a little disconcerting. (Since I am obviously the most likable person in the metro DC area besides Amalah.)
Anyway. We mostly lead separate lives. I cook our own food and such, and my sister in law and her friend are rarely here. But still, they are all devout Muslims so there are a lot of things we don't do, like listening to music loudly or watching TV (Hubby watches a lot of movies on his computer though.)
There are benefits. There's usually someone around to help me on the days when I'm alone with Leila from 7 in the morning to 7 at night, and that's good. Any problems with the house, I can just ask my father in law (Abba to me) to deal with it. Culturally, our arrangement is acceptable and even desirable, but occasionally (okay, a lot) it's stifling. But what'm I gonna do? His father is nearing eighty and his mom doesn't drive. It's a nice house in a good neighborhood. Plus it provides a LOT of blog fodder and since they're all so devout, they'd never just be tooling around on the 'net and find this.
I hope.

Would you like some cheese with that whine?

Oh. My. God.
Ya'all, I thought I was going to die yesterday. Seriously. Die. Huddled over the toilet in my misery, I hoped my husband would carry out my wishes as I'd asked him to.
There is a 24-hour stomach bug going around. I tried valiantly to make it to work, but once there I turned right back around and went home. There was no way in HELL I would survive the day. I came home and slept almost the entire day, and then went to bed at eight.
Today I feel a bit better, but am hesitant to do anything lest I relapse.
God. It was like being pregnant again, but without the promise of a baby at the end of all the nausea. So. Awful.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Because we haven't had one in awhile...

This is what happens when you go shopping, clean the house, and the baby runs after you like a puppy for hours and refuses to go down for a nap.
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And this is Leila at the bottom of the first floor stairs.
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Confuzzled and Twitterpated.

So. A hysterectomy at 23. This is sure to be an experience...
I keep having little moments of panic, but when it comes down to the wire I am pretty positive that this is the right move for me. My nurse told me today that they have a fair amount of women who have this surgery and still have pain, and I think she was trying in her way to bring me back to reality--this may not be the solution I think it is.
On the other hand, I have a lot of faith. From what little I understand, my pain is mostly due to scar tissue on my left ovary. If my left ovary isn't there anymore, that scar tissue is gone--so where would the pain come from, exactly?
(Hey, feel free to comment if you know.)
It's sad that I can't have any more babies. I occasionally get quite a pang when I see small babies, or when Leila interacts with other children--but then again, I probably wouldn't have been able to have another baby anyway, with all the damage to my ovary.
But all of this has actually got me thinking about something pretty hilarious--this Kuh-razee girl I lived with when I was twenty. Not knowing much about the female reproductive system at the time, I was still a bit suspicious when she informed us all that she never used birth control because one of her ovaries was "made of plastic" and she would probably never be able to have children, sob, sob.
Then, a few months later, she revealed to me that somehow she had been impregnated by her boyfriend. We were roommates by this time and she began putting on weight BUT, BUT, dating this guy who worked with her parents. After about three months (she would've been about 5 1/2 months pregnant, were she telling the truth) she called me at work at said she'd had a miscarriage and lost the baby.
The next day she went to gymnastics class and then out to a club with some friends.
I moved out a week later. What kind of psycho pretends to be pregnant in some kind of elaborate charade for nigh on five months?
A crazy one, I guess.
Later she got married to the guy and had a real baby and got all Britney Spears-chubby and white trash-ified. I wonder if she's still sleeping with that other guy on the side.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Cleansing breath.

Oh. Wow. And that wasn't even the "Mommy Blogger" post I was promising ya'all. Uh, another time, duckies. Another time.
Till then, I leave you with a mission. Go leave a supportive note on a blog of your choice. It's delurking week! De-lurk with love!

Bust a cap in yo'....

Dude. Ya'all. The blogging world is cutthroat. I just realized that I have two distinct species of bloggers in my bookmarks, and I got a little upset. My blog reading experience has been soured. I don't understand why people gotta be hater-atin'...
I am not going to link to or mention the names of either the blogs who hated or the blogs who were hated upon. All I'm saying is, here's the deal: it's a little ridiculous to insult someone's CHILD because you don't "get what the big deal is." I thought this person's blog was hilarious until I came across an entry devoted to talking trash about a famous fellow blogger, including saying that her child was "no Gerber baby."
Just, wow.
Up till then, I was with this blogger. She liked the same Coach bag as me! She was funny and free with the cussing! I love me some Coach and some funny and some cussing! (Just don't tell my mom.)
THEN a couple of bloggers I really like, and respect, and kind of look up to as older and more eloquent and, well, funny, than me--chimed in, until it became kind of a party of saying, "Hey, this Blogger is all full of herself and really, she sucks."
What the hell is THAT all about? I have a hard time now reading their words, especially one in particular who I thought was a kind-hearted sort of person...I mean, why would you encourage someone to insult someone else's child? Whatever, if you think someone's a crappy writer. I think this particular blogger has gotten a lot of attention stemming from one particular event, but she is funny, her kid is cute, and she has been painfully honest about a lot of things that a lot of young mothers deal with...I'm really not trying to be a fangirl here. My problem is that it wasn't just like, "She's not that great." It was more like, "She sucks AND her writing sucks AND she's an attention whore AND also her kid is ugly," and wow, where does that kind of vitriol come from in reference to someone you have never even met?
Why are women so hard on each other? The massive amounts of "assvice" received by more popular bloggers, and hell, any site that speaks to celebrity gossip (like a dumping ground for every petty insecurity you ever had) testify to the fact that women LOVE to hurt each other. I'm not innocent--but I'm very young. I'd like to think that some of my nastiness will mellow with age, that my first thought won't always be spiteful. I make a genuine effort to understand people in my life and be a concerned and supportive person because it's important that my daughter sees me that way. God forbid I should speak to her in the critical way my parents spoke to me--and I KNOW that those critical words are in my heart. I was raised that way! But when I read a lot of the nastiness that's out there--and even when I take stock of my own thoughts--I feel a little sick. That's not the person I'm striving to be--that's not the person I want to show on this blog.
I realized tonight that the two camps my Daily Reads fall into are sort of like, one section of insecure young mothers, blogging about their own foibles and that of their children, and then this whole other camp that's a bit older and more into cussing heartily about the rest of the world.
And maybe one of those I should stop enjoying so much.

Monday, January 09, 2006

A few notes:

To The Guy Who Made My Lovely Friend Cry. A. Lot. :
Women are fragile. You may not know this, having a brain approximately the size of an M&M, but it takes a lot for someone to open up and tell you about something very bad that happened to them, and, obviously, will affect them for the rest of their life. So if you, then, proceed to take that something and make it all about YOU, then you are an ass. So WHAT if you felt rejected? Poooooor baby. I think ten minutes--ten days--of you feeling a little shitty sort of pales in comparison to something that your girlfriend has to carry around with her for the rest of her life. Suck it UP, dude. And don't call, 'cause honestly, I don't think she needs someone like you in her life anyhow.
Here's hoping you turn gay in LA,
Jackie Joy.

To the Nurse Who Could Not Be Bothered to Finish the Paperwork Necessary to Have Me Admitted to My Room and Therefore Left Me Without Pain Medication for Several Hours:
Dude. Screw you. I sat in my crappy triage chair four hours, then when someone else was finally badgered into taking me up to my room, the nurses didn't know I was coming, the room wasn't clean, and I sat in the hall in a wheelchair, sobbing, wondering what the hell I'd done to incur YOUR wrath. Also? Somewhere in that time period, I lost my cell phone, so you owe me $200 and about 3 shots of Dilaudid.
Jackie Joy

To My Ovaries, Who Have Betrayed Me Mightily,
(well, actually, just the left one, as the right passed into the dear departed last April)
I hate you. I will never have another baby, which I could deal with, but I've also lost nearly a year of my life dealing with the chronic, severe pain you have inflicted on me. I am having a hysterectomy, (at the age of 23, damn you) and I will not miss you, and I shall be bitter forever and ever, amen.
Have fun with my Uterus in Organ Hell, (where all bad organs go)
Jackie Joy

Quick Update.

I am going to talk about That Thing We Don't Talk About Here because my life sucks lately, but not right now. Just wanted to let everyone know that not only was I admitted to the hospital this weekend for a pretty nasty hospital experience complete with having to fight the nurse for pain medication and said pain medication giving me a migraine so bad I couldn't even talk--not ONLY that, but I left my cell phone there, somewhere, so I can't call my friends and apologize for not being around for them this weekend or (selfish, I know) ask them for help. I have to have surgery and the surgery will have to be at the abovementioned hospital, which is reknowned for being understaffed and/or staffed with rude/mean/overworked nurses. Not looking forward to it. Leila had a total freakout crying session last night which I am pretty sure was because she hadn't seen me all weekend and I have had to basically take a leave of absence from work much earlier than I thought I would. I am thinking about trying to finish out the week just because I feel so awful for leaving them on such short notice.
So. To sum up. If we are friends, please email me your phone number at ummleila@netzero.com. Or you could call Holy Cross and ask them if they have my phone. It's silver. It has your phone number in it.
MWAH! I miss you all, and will write more later.

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

I'd be foaming at the mouth if I weren't so damn tired...

There will be an upcoming entry about the derogatory use of the term "Mommy Blog" and the ramifications of being the sort of nasty person who thinks that you're "just a mom" who write about mom-type things and that somehow makes you a lesser person than...who, exactly? Hmm? People who write about celebrities? At least I actually know my kid.

Trust me. You will be hearing about this and about society's nasty attitude towards mothers as a whole, and it will not be pretty.

Ebay Rant.

Some time ago Mir posted about Ebay and its likeness to an abusive boyfriend. She has also made several references to the sheer stupidity of many of the buyers.

My problem is different. My problem is the sellers. I mean, I sell things on Ebay. I spend a lot of money on Leila's clothes and it's nice to get a bit of it back so I can go spend some more. But here's the thing: I don't misrepresent. I sell clean, unstained, rip-free clothing that I have either ironed or at LEAST tossed in the dryer. I take multiple clear pictures and the majority of my items have been worn maybe three times, max. They are also normally only about three months old. Last year, however, I saved all of Leila's summer clothes that were in good shape and I'll be selling them--they will still only be six months old. I start my bids at 99 cents, because even when I started them at $2 they did not sell as well.
Here is my advice to you, bad sellers or potential sellers, because I am a little tired of having to sort through 500 ads of CRAP to get to one or two decent finds.

1) Take decent pictures. Standing five feet away from a pile of folded clothes tells me nothing about what you are selling, and your detailed description still isn't as good as a photo. Make sure there is light, I can see most of the items in question, and if there are details, take a closeup. I want to know what I'm bidding on.
2) Start your bidding at 99 cents. No one is going to bid on your lot of 3 pairs of jeans if you start the bidding at $7.50. If you start at 99 cents, they might go for more than they're worth.
3) Your clothes from 1997 need to go to Goodwill or one of those charities that sends clothes overseas. No one is going to pay good money for that mess, especially since most of it looks like your crazy Aunt Susan sewed it.
4) If the clothes are so old that I don't recognize the label design (the old Gymboree one with shapes on it, for instance) then they need to go to charity. You should be selling clothes that are reasonably current.
5) Use the spellcheck function, for the love of all that is Holy. I am not going to buy Ralf Lawren Curdorey lavandar kapris, mmkay?
6) Your lot of two Cherokee Kids shirts is ridiculous. I could go to Target for that. In addition, $6 is a completely unreasonable shipping fee for any less than six items. I ship USPS Priority and I know full well it cost $3.75 to mail those two shirts.
7) I buy my child clothes from Wal Mart and Target. I resell those on Ebay. BUT ONLY IF THEY ARE IN GOOD CONDITION. This means that they should not have been worn more than a few times, and do you know why? Because they came from Wal Mart or Target and they do not stand up well to multiple washings and wearings! And while we're on the subject, people: fleece. It is not a reseller's friend. It pills and fades. If it is new or almost new, great. Otherwise: goodwill. They are your friends. For every item I sell on Ebay ten go into the goodwill bag.
9) Pilling is acceptable in only one circumstance: an applique with a bit of pilling. Pilling on the hiney of a bathing suit or pants, all over pilling, etc, these are not things you should say are acceptable, okay? Would you buy a shirt from the store if it had pilling on it? No? Well, you shouldn't be selling stuff you wouldn't purchase yourself.
10) Defects that are acceptable include things like small stains in inconspicious places, and light fading. LIGHT FADING. If it used to be red and it is now pink, that is not light fading. If the stain is grey and covers the entire lower arm, that is not a SMALL stain. And tears and rips are just not acceptable, ever. If it's "easily fixable" you should have fixed it yourself before listing it.
11) Titles should include WHAT you are listing, the age and sex of the person it is for, and maybe one descriptor. Not, CUTE ADORABLE STUFF FOR BABY GIRL L@@K. Cute lot of 6-9 months Baby Girl outfits!
12) Be honest. Please. I bought a "like new" lot from a woman--my first ebay transaction--and got three faded pieces from a line Gymboree had three years ago. They looked okay in the picture and were described as "like new!" and "perfect condition!" when really they were faded and worn many a time. I also bought a lot advertised as coming from Old Navy and Gap that arrived reeking of cigarette smoke and with tags from the factory outlets. You should tell people if you smoke. And you should be honest about the origins of your items. Factory store items are not always the same as the items you get in the store. Many outlets manufacture a separate line of clothing exclusively for selling at the outlet.
13) NWOT indicates that the tags were taken from the item but the item was either never worn or possibly worn once. Like new indicates that the item is in the exact same condition as the day you brought it home from the store, despite having been worn. Please be accurate as well as honest.
14) Be fair on the shipping. I mentioned this above, but people really try to pull a fast one. On the same transaction I mentioned above (with the cigarette smoke) I accidentally clicked on "Bid" before looking at the shipping fee. It was ten dollars for five items. They arrived SHOVED into a tiny box for shampoo samples and had cost $4.00 to ship. She made a freaking six dollar profit off of shipping those stinky clothes.

Hmm. I may be done for now. We shall see.

My First Meme

I've been tagged by Slacker Mom for the following meme. My thoughts were twofold: "I can't believe I have to call her Slacker Mom, when it's obvious from her blog that she is anything BUT a slacker." and then: "Only five things that make me wierd?"
Here they are, in no particular order:

1)I hate clothing with characters on it. Looney Tunes, Dora the Explorer, Strawberry Shortcake, etc. I will not buy them for my daughter and I will sell them on Ebay if given to me. One of the first things Joy and I bonded over was our mutual hatred of Winnie the Pooh as a brand. The only exception is grown up tees with vintage toys or the Barbie logo--that's cute in a kitschy way. But whenever I see an adult wearing Tweety Bird, I want to smack them and tell them to stop shopping at Wal-Mart. I think Leila will find this very upsetting in a few years.

2)I can't sleep without a fan. Ever.

3)I can deal with barf and poop with the best of them, but drool makes me gag.

4) Juvenile humor reeeeally gets under my skin, but the time I laughed the hardest in two-and-a-half years of marriage involved a fart so loud it woke the baby.

5)I like the taste of red Chloraseptic spray.

I don't tag, but feel free to use this meme on your own blog!

Monday, January 02, 2006


"You go to war with the army you have, not the army you wish you had." (Donald Rumsfield)

How disturbing. How sickening. How terribly sad...
Too bad we had to go to war at all, eh?

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Crumbling Resolve.

It just occurred to me that I have not eaten anything all day but a few Mint Cookies-n-Cream Hershey's Nugget...thingers. This is not good.
Before I pass out from hunger I will say that I did go to Ulta with France and it was fabulous. Leila was well behaved, we brunched, and we spent the obligatory hour and a half perusing the clearance...and, well, every other inch of the store.
I managed to spend $50, kind of accidentally. I bought my favorite hair straightener ever, Goldwell Trendline Straightener Extreme--ya'all, this stuff WORKS. It also costs almost $20 for 8.4 oz. I knew that when I put it in my basket, but I kept forgetting. I mean, it's just a little bottle. How much can it cost, right? I also bought Essie nail polish in Curtain Call ($7) so right there is $25. I also got some orange sticks, some cleansing wipes to keep on my nightstand for when I forget to take my makeup off (like every night) (this was France's idea and I stole it) and I got a necklace and earrings set (I just wanted the earrings) for 99 CENTS!! It was marked down from $40! And I bought a jewelry box for $6.99. And I got a nail file but it somehow got left in my basket and, oh well. Last but not least Igot some soap that France told me was great--Reviva Labs Natural Seaweed Soap. I loooooooove it. It has scrubbies in it and smells extra soap-like (my whole bathroom reeks of the stuff) and it really got my face clean. It also made it extra dry so I really had to layer on the moisturizer.
The other day I bought some Lava Story foot scrub from the True Blue Spa line at
Bath and Body. It was dirt cheap and I needed a foot scrub, so I grabbed it. I like it--I rubbed it on and then used my file (I have one of those cheese grater looking ones) and it was relaxing and helped soothe my poor, tired feet.
I also bought two of those Mentha Lip Shines that I love so much, some Tutti Dolce Lip gloss in Angel Food cake (I gave that to my manager after she confessed that she was having a down day) and two of the Aromatherapy Remedies things, which I had never tried before. I bought Cold and Sinus Therapy Lip and Face Balm with Vanilla and Chamomile (Leila and I have both been sick with nasty colds) but it wasn't what I thought it was. If that makes sense. I thought it was something menthol-y to clear up my nasal passages while soothing my lips, but it's more for the skin irritation and dry lips that come along with colds. I still like it, especially to put on before I go to bed. The other was Headache Relief Pulse Point Therapy with Peppermint Essential Oil. That does clear up my sinuses but this morning when I had my first headache since I bought the stuff--I forgot I had it. So we shall see.
Now, I need to give myself a manicure, take a shower, find something to eat, etc. I cleaned like a crazy lady today (after spending last night in the ER trying to get some help with pain from That Thing We Don't Talk About Here.) and listed some stuff on Ebay and was generally cranky and crappy (as was Leila!) and I am just now realizing that I was probably so cranky because I didn't eat. Duh.
Okay. Leaving now. Happy New Year!