However, the birth of the Chiquita and the subsequent post partum depression from which I suffered unfortunately led to my book being put on hold in order for me to get well.  Now that I’m healthy it is my goal to get my book published this year.

Please enjoy an excerpt from the (hopefully) forthcoming Concrete Boots.

****

The stress of M.A. Crimson & Sons was getting to Jen; who was bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball between the Prairie Path Villas Sales Office, the field office and the main office.  She was bouncing back and forth with orders from Michael, from Bill and even orders from Erin.  It was unbelievable how much time she spent driving around during the day as opposed to actually working.

Jen had a lot on her plate between Michael’s personal life and professional life.  She had never had a job like this before but the pay was so good that she was sucked into her new life.  Her new life was designer clothes, weekly mani/pedis, weekly car washes, planning her destination wedding – complete with a designer gown which was being handmade for her by a designer out of Miami!  She was spending money like it grew on trees, no well-vodka drinks for Jen anymore.  She was drinking only good stuff – Grey Goose “skinny bitches” and Patron shots.  She started to feel like nothing was out of her reach; she could have it all.  She would have it all.  Her house, her summer home, and even the BMW she always wanted since she was 16.

She was losing herself, and she didn’t know how to get herself back.  She was sinking deeper and deeper, but couldn’t figure out how to get out of the hole she was sinking into.  The hole was a lot of debt.  It was a hole full of arrogance.  She had everything she always wanted.  She graduated college, she bought a condo, she bought a house, and she had nice cars, clothes and impeccable style.  She was making a lot of money.  She was rising to the top.

Michael and Jen had dreams of Michael building a bigger construction company with Jen running the office and acting as Michael’s right-hand-man.  She would have several employees working under her and continue to make more and more money as Michael made more and more money.  He even said it was silly to pay her a car allowance of $400/month, which was a car payment.  Maybe he should just buy her a company car, “A BMW you’ve always wanted?” He had asked.

YES, YES, YES.

Jen’s car lease was up in a few months.  Could she really be getting a company car?  A BMW?  And she was even due to get a raise in the coming months.  It was a dream come true.

But, do dreams really come true?  Maybe sometimes…maybe for Snow White and Cinderella.  But, even celebrities say that with all the money and power they have they miss their privacy.  Or the people who have anything they could ever ask for financially, but they don’t have their health.  That’s how Jen felt.  Yes, she had anything she could have wanted or needed.  But, she was missing a big part of her life.  And it was killing her.

She was able to push the feelings of loneliness, bitterness, sadness and anger so deep inside that it’s like they almost weren’t there anymore.  She became selfish.  She forgot to give to those less fortunate because she wanted a new pair of shoes.  She started to get hard and cold saying things like, “I can’t depend on anyone but myself,” and “I don’t need anyone else except ME.”

Who was this person?  What had happened to the Jen that was raised to be responsible and caring?  The Jen that was a good person who cared about other people’s feelings and thoughts?  The Jen who was full of love?  She could blame it on several things – the money, Michael, her family.

Her family had abandoned her.  When she chose to be with an older man, a man who was still legally married though out of the relationship, her family turned on her.  They didn’t agree with Jen choosing to be with a man eighteen years her senior.  They didn’t agree with her choosing to be with a man who was not “officially” divorced and who had two children.

Does Jen regret the way the relationship unfolded?  Absolutely!  Does she wish she could go back and change it?  Every day.  But she can’t.  She was young, and she made mistakes.  She should have known better, but she followed her heart.  She met this man, and she fell in love.  She knew he was the man for her.  Of course it was difficult with his ex-wife and children, but Jen didn’t care.  She knew they were meant to be.

Anyone who comes from a big Italian family knows the tight-knit bubble that Italians wrap themselves in.  There is one patriarch – he makes all the rules – and everyone else obeys.  You don’t leave your family.  Blood is thicker than water.

The funny thing about Italians is they think they know everything and they do everything right.  Jen knew that plenty of people in her family had made their own mistakes, yet she still loves and supports them.  She looks beyond the not so good things they have done and knows that despite their mistakes they are good people.  They didn’t do the same for her.  They disagreed with her decision.  They thought it was wrong, and they didn’t support her.  If you be with this man, you are out of the family.  Those words were never spoken to her, but actions speak louder.  Jen didn’t feel welcome at family functions and no one called her to congratulate her on her house or her engagement.  They had all left her.  They had all deemed her this villain who went against them, who went against “the family”.

Jen wasn’t going against “the family”.  She was simply trying to be her own person.  She wanted to make her own mistakes and learn from them.  She wanted to follow her heart.  Jen was a romantic since first grade when she fell in “love” with a boy and went home and declared: “I want to marry him.”  Jen was always the little girl who wanted to get married and have lots of babies.  And when Jen was a freshman in high school her friends dubbed her the first one to get married.  They always said she would get married at 20-years-old and would marry a 40-year-old doctor.

Somehow the tides had turned.  She ended up going to college and concentrating on building a career mainly thanks to her parents who always pushed her to succeed.  And while she was now marrying the older man they despised she was not 20, but would be 28.  And she wasn’t marrying a doctor, but a blue-collar worker who took pride in his work and supported his family.

No matter how sure of something you are in life, when the people who are supposed to love and support you despite anything – anything! – don’t have your back it can cause doubt.  Doubt is a scary feeling because the whole premise of doubt is uncertainty.  Being uncertain in something as big and important as a marriage can really cause someone to lose grip.

Not only did Jen’s mom openly discuss her disgust with their union, but remember Erin had said that Jen was “just like her.”  Then Michael started to put doubts in Jen’s head.  He’d say things like, “Jen, you and I are a lot alike,” and “Jen, you and I are hard people to be in relationships with, we’re selfish,” and, the worst one of all, “I don’t think you want to get married.”

The last one sat with Jen for a while, scrolling through her head over and over.  You don’t want to get married.  You don’t want to get married.  YOU DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED.  “Yes, I do,” Jen told herself.  Jen loved Brett.  Didn’t she?  Maybe everyone knew better than Jen?  Maybe Brett was more like family to Jen, since she had lost her own support system.  Brett became her support system.  Brett was her rock; he took care of her.  Maybe Jen loved Brett but wasn’t “in love” with Brett?  And now Jen was blinded by the money.  Now she wanted her BMW, and a bigger house, and, and, and….she wouldn’t have these things with Brett.  That’s what Erin told her; that’s what her parents told her.

Jen felt everything around her crumbling.  Why did she feel so lost and so unsure of herself?  Jen always had her shit together.  Between the wedding and her (lack of) family and Michael – who was practically the biggest stressor of them all – she felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown.  Jen doesn’t handle stress well.  She should have seen this as a sign that it was time to get away from Michael, a boss that yelled at her and belittled her almost on a daily basis, a boss that had Jen completely wrapped up in his life in order for HIM to get through his days.  But what about Jen?  How was she to get through her days?  The road that Jen had been walking on for the past 27 years had led her astray.

With Jen on the verge of losing her mind she actually lost her soul.  She let a lot of people down, but mostly herself.  She learned a lesson that lives with her everyday, which she will be ashamed of until the day she dies.  She had hoped to die with this secret, but she would have to face it, overcome it and try to make things right.

****

The fine print:
“Although this memoir is based on real events in my life, I’ve taken a few liberties for the purpose of moving the story forward. In some cases names and places have been altered, characters combined, time compressed, and events taken out of sequence.”

If you watch the reality show Giuliana and Bill on Style Network you know that they wanted to open a restaurant featuring recipes from Giuliana’s mom, the bubbly Mama DePandi (and P.S. Mama DePandi is on Twitter, and while she hasn’t tweeted much lately her tweets were seriously hilar).

Bill and Giuliana were kicking around whether to open “Mama DePandi’s Italian Restaurante” (much better name in this Italian’s opinion) in LA or Chicago; Bill fought hard and won with RPM Italian ultimately residing in River North on Illinois Street.  Yayy Chicago!

The Rancic’s joined forces with Lettuce Entertain You’s Melman siblings; R.J., Jerrod and Molly, and Doug Psaltis, who is also RPM’s chef.  The name RPM is derived of the three owners’ last names; Rancic, Psaltis, Melman.

The décor is sleek and modern; think very black and white chic, but with a cozy feel.  Be seated in inviting round-table booths, enjoy the romantic and intricate lighting and select your drink knowing it will be prepared by the best ‘mixers’ in the biz since RPM features two fully stocked bars.

Our waiter, I’ll call him John, was fantastic – very professional (which the vibe I got was that the waiters are to be a little on the stuffy side) but we were jokesters from the get-go so bless his heart for not wanting to kill us.  Or maybe he wanted to, but he didn’t let on as much and we had him joking and laughing by the end.

Waiter John answered all of our questions, ranging from questions about Giuliana and Bill (I couldn’t NOT ask!) and we had several questions on the menu as well.  John said he had tried everything – we said every single thing? – He repeated EVERYTHING on the menu.

Now that’s how you train your wait staff!  Hopefully they let him try all the cocktails, too, but I didn’t branch out to try a speciality birthday cocktail.  Sorry to disappoint, but you know me, I stuck with my cab the wino that I am!

Waiter John suggested I order the Short Rib Pappardelle and omg, it was delish.  The only problem was I could have eaten like double, or maybe triple, what I was served.  I ate my entire meal with no leftovers to take home.

Hubs played it safe with Spaghetti and Meatballs and his portion was rather small as well.  One of my two complaints on RPM is that all of our portions were very small.

What I’ve learned from researching RPM is that the modern over old-school Italian flair R, P, and M are going for plus the French style of chef Psaltis (who helped craft Paris Club’s French fare) = smaller plate sizes.  Waiter John did encourage us to order many plates to share.

My bonus daughter ordered the Maine Lobster Ravioli, and while she said that it was absolutely delish, we all left feeling like we could go demolish a Big Mac at McDonald’s.  I think we counted five ravioli’s on her plate, and they were the size of a half dollar coin.

Now maybe we’re just pigs, but I’ve never been shy about the fact that as an Italian girl I was raised to eat, and I like to eat, so when I’ve starved myself for two days in anticipation of this beautiful meal I was disappointed to not be so stuffed that I needed to be rolled out of the restaurant….especially after also eating appetizers and salad.

This brings me to complaint #2, which is if you open an Italian restaurant please give your customers free bread.  That’s the way Italians want it to be because you can’t eat a meal without bread, right?  I don’t know, maybe I’m just cheap, but I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you feed me some bread when I dine in your establishment.

So after our very first important task of ordering the booze (bonus daughter and I split the bottle of cab), we then ordered our $7 Truffled Garlic Bread followed by an order of Fritto Misto.  Again, it was amazing; however, I myself could have eaten the entire loaf of bread, the entire appetizer AND my meal.

Yet still, I can’t repeat enough how delicious the food really was.  See the entire menu here.

I found the pricing to be in line with what I expected of a trendy celebrity owned restaurant in the big city.  I didn’t expect the pricing to be the equivalent to some favorite Italian restaurants; however, the portions were one quarter of the size.

Waiter John did surprise us with four mini ice cream cones and a candle which was a very pleasant surprise.  No, RPM is not the restaurant where the wait staff will come out singing ‘Happy Birthday’ at the top of their lungs, and I was OK with that.  However it was a nice added touch that topped off my birthday dinner.  We also ordered a yummy dessert to share.

My take on RPM is that it’s a great restaurant to attend for a bachelorette party (small plates, cool vibe) or a happy hour drink and app, however, to go there again for a full blown meal I probably would not.  Reason being simply because as an eater, if I drop the Benjamins on a meal I’d like to leave feeling absolutely stuffed and like I won’t be able to eat for the next week or so.

One last note, no, I did not have any celeb sightings.  I had a brief fantasy of Giuliana running out of the kitchen demanding to meet the girl with the blog who claims to be G’s future BFF.  We would share a martini and laugh and laugh….but no, that didn’t happen.

My family (minus the Chiquita) celebrating my 33rd birthday at RPM Italian

Waiter John – Handsome isn’t he?

Don’t you love this?

Dessert!

My birthday is a huge event for me, and in my opinion it should be for everyone.  Their own birthday, I mean, not mine.  But mine could be a big event for you if you’d like to buy me presents!

I always say though that birthdays are a special day – at any age – and should be celebrated!  Your mom went through a lot to bring you into this world, so drink a glass of wine and enjoy the day that is YOU!

So blog readers and friends, another year has passed and Jlee is now 33 years young. While I did hit some hard times in my 30s from the black hole that was my post partum depression, I am now truly enjoying all the blessings that God is giving me.

Thanks for reading and please enjoy some pictures of my b-day weekend events!

Fun with my girls at the Cubs game!

Sporting my ‘Another Year Sexier’ pin from the girls at the bar before the game.

The next day Hubs and my bonus daughters took me to see the Marilyn statue!

Soo beautiful!

Walking thru the city we stumbled on a street puppet show!

We then went for dinner at RPM Italian – my BFF Giuliana’s restaurant!

It was so nice to walk around the city!

Posing with my bonus daughters

My Hubs made my 33rd very special! I had a great birthday!

New post to follow! I have lots to say, as always.
xx

It started in high school when I brought back bell bottom jeans for a short time in 10th grade.

Then during my college years my sorority sisters got me into the “sorority girl” uniform of Express’s black pants and sexy tanks to go clubbing in.

Then I entered the work force, and hit some missteps along the way.

Once, at 22 I tried to go to work in a shiny gold Express spaghetti tank (from my sorority days) and my supervisor asked me if I came to work straight from the bar.  Umm…sorry you’re like 50 and have no fashion sense at all, I thought.  [Eye roll]

Then I bought this fab plaid skirt at the Guess store.  I couldn’t afford the matching plaid jacket so I opted for a cute white button down.  I remember going into the office feeling like a hot preppy.  My boss asked me if I was going to an afternoon tennis match.  I think it was the flip-flops.

I went to an interview once in open-toe shoes when I was 23.  Do people really judge you based on the shoes you’re wearing?  Especially when they totes matched my lucky business suit (I still own it and wear it, and it is still lucky!) perfectly and it was a 95 degree day?  I didn’t get that job.  In fact, the interviewer gave me a tip.  “Don’t ever wear open toe shoes to a job interview.”

All lessons learned along the way….

Once I hit 30 I thought I had it all figured out.  But, I’ve still hit some stumbling blocks here and there.  I remember when I wrote the post Fashion Conscious.  Wow, that sparked some negativity during a time when I thought I was OK, but I wasn’t.  It was a very dark time in my life when I was trying to pretend like I had it all pulled together, but for realz I was about to lose it at any given moment.  And then I actually did lose it.

I remember reading a gal’s comment on Fashion Conscious and thinking:  ‘Wow, I’ve really been so off base about myself for soo long.’  Like I thought I looked good, and I thought I dressed well, and I thought that was me, that was like a part of my identity, but like Cher Horowitz finally said: “I was just totally clueless!”

Ohmigosh, I soo wanted to be Cher!

As was I.

As I got better though a few things changed:

1. I decided it’s OK to be me.  I like fashion and celebrities and that doesn’t make me a bad person.

2. To each their own.  Some people find their fashions at Kmart (umm…Sofia Vergara has a line there!) and others opt for Von Maur (my FAVE) and others opt for Bergdorf Goodman.  Fashion is your own art form, and if you put it together well and wear it with confidence you’ll be fashionable.

I haven't been to Kmart in like 20 years but these don't look bad???

3. It’s OK to laugh at yourself.  We’ve all worn that outfit that we thought we looked sooo good in.  And then we look back on it and think what was I thinking?  We burn all the pictures and ask our friends how they ever EVER let us go out dressed like that.

4. I don’t have all the fashion answers, and I need to stop pretending like I do.  Does anyone?  Isn’t it all relative?  I wonder about trends and brands like anyone else.  Case in point, I just had a debate with friends today about Victoria’s Secret’s ‘Pink’ collection.  When are we just too old to sport ‘Pink’?

After my Cher Horowitz “totally clueless” moment I stumbled on a great website that I love:  Thirty-Something Fashion.  I was religiously reading this website, and now I sadly only check back from time to time since I work full time and am writing more.

But, the gal who writes this website, Carly, is so beautiful on the inside and on the outside.  I remember reading her blog and thinking, ohmigosh, this girl totes has money because she’s wearing all these fab designers … and I think I’m cool wearing Juicy Couture.  Omg, I’m sooo lame.

But now, I revert back to #1.  IT’S OK TO BE ME!  And it’s OK for you to be YOU.

In saying that I do love Carly’s fashion and would love her entire wardrobe.  Maybe when my book sells I can hire Carly as my stylist and walk the red carpet to the premiere of my made-for-TV movie.  ”Dare to dream, Ms. Woods, dare to dream.”

I was also obsessed with Elle Woods - Tiffany's and pink! OMG!

Side note:  I had a conversation with a friend recently.  He asked me who would play the main characters in my TV movie.  I said Rob Lowe would play the antagonist (King Douche Bag), and Jennifer Love Hewett would play me.

Now Jennifer Love is super annoyinggggg, but,,,I started to think about it, and I can be a bit annoying myself and I’m a bit of a spaz so it does make sense!  He thought Rachel Bilson.  Hmm…

Yeah...cuz that's what I look like!

So, anyways, I don’t know if I dress well or not…and I don’t care.  Because I’ll just be me.  I love Juicy Couture.  I love leopard print (my bitchy sorority sister once said “Animals belong in the forest not your wardrobe.”  Whatevs…).  I love good deals at Old Navy.  I love thrift shop finds at my fave neighborhood shop.  I still love Express work pants – they’re the best out there!  I love splurging when I can, and I hit up Forever 21 [omg, am I too old for that place?] for cheap trendy pieces.

But the great thing is I’m finally in a place where fashion to ME is about being yourself.  It’s about loving yourself and it’s about being comfortable in your own skin.

LMAO...I remember modeling this outfit in a Chili's. Yes, a Chili's after like 3 glasses of wine thinking I looked sooo good! OMG, how embarrassing! Hahahahahaha

Now what is fashion to you?

I used to sing songs in line at Burger King at five years old.  The whole store would stop and listen.  And then they would clap for me.  I would beam with excitement.  What happened to that little girl?  That brave girl who loved to sing for an audience, who loved talking to people, who loved to experience life.  What happened to her?

Me at 3-years-old. What happened to this brave little girl?

Here I sit.  What I am afraid of?

I’m afraid of trying and failing.
I’m afraid of being a bad mother.
I’m afraid of being a bad person.
I’m afraid everyone will hate my book.
I’m afraid of confrontational situations.
I’m afraid of running the ½ marathon I desired to run 3 years ago.
I’m afraid of people leaving me – family, friends, my daughter

This list is crazy.  Everyone has fears, but my fears just seem so … irrational?

So today I’m full of fear.

I was invited to NYC to the U.S. launch party of petiteBox –> see my review here.  Of course I was honored and thrilled to be invited to the exclusive mommy blogger event.  But then the fear set in.

I’m not a super religious person but I did pray about it, asking God what I should do.  I just feel deep inside me that this will be a life-changing opportunity.  I’m not saying I’m going to go to New York and be discovered and be the next Snooki, but I do feel like this will in some way help secure or at least shape my future.  Whether it’s me personally or my writing career or whatever it may be I feel something.

The original launch party was scheduled for tomorrow.  I had merely found out about it weeks ago, and I didn’t think I would be able to swing it even though I so badly wanted to attend.  As I said, I prayed to God for guidance.

Ironically, I found out the very next day that the launch party had been pushed back to May or June.  I was like, Omg, it’s like God answered my prayers.

I kept looking for a way to bail.  The money, the childcare…but all the signs kept pointing to GO JEN GO!  Everything was falling exactly into place.

So this morning I did it.  I booked my ticket to New York!  O-M-G!  I’m going to New York!

And then reality set in.  O-M-G.  I’m going to go to New York.  Alone.

Ohhhhmmmmmiiiiggggosh.  I can’t do this.  I can’t go to New York – ALONE!  What the hell was I thinking?

And then fear set in.

With my flight booked I now had to book my hotel.  And now I’m panicking.  With every step being completed it’s becoming more and more real. More and more official.

I’ve flown alone before, but I’ve always been picked up at the arriving airport.  I have never in my 32 (almost 33) years flown before and arrived at a new city by myself with no one there.  I have to take a cab from LaGuardia Airport to the Chelsea Inn at 11 pm at night. I have to figure it out…by myself.

I don’t have normal fears, like I’m going to die or someone is going to mug me.  My fear is…what if I get lost?  What if no one likes me?  What if I get a crazy bout of diarrhea? What if I just can’t do it alone?  I picture myself standing in the middle of 5th Ave. crying. Resigned to my fears.

This is not the kind of person I started out to be.  This is not the kind of person I want to be.  This is not the person I want my daughter to become.

I remind myself to stay strong. I CAN do this! My mind spins with what-if this and what-if that.

I figure my co-worker is ready to kill me when I ask her: “What if the hotel is like nasty and I have to sleep on top of the covers for fear of getting Herpes?”

I decided to take a break.  To go to my sanctuary (Dunkin Donuts) and to write in my journal while sipping an iced coffee.  I write:  New day; new hopes, new dreams and new fears.

I remind myself of BGP.  I remind myself that this is one more step towards my goal of selling my book and continuing to blog which is something that makes me happy and something that makes me feel complete.  I remind myself of how far I’ve come, and how I don’t want to stop here.  I want to continue to grow and improve my life.  I do have a spirit inside me.  My spirit may be plagued by fear and anxiety, but I can’t let it be a crutch. I have to challenge myself.

I returned to my office from my sanctuary still feeling like my head was going to explode despite the iced coffee and the anxiety pill. And I returned to this email from my co-worker:

“For God did not give me a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.” 2 Timothy 1:7

Don’t be brought down by your anxiety or fear, but embrace the spirit that God has naturally given you. Step out in faith. He’s given you this opportunity to go to New York and He will take care of you. I’m praying for you!

So here’s to letting go of fears and my trip to New York!  I can’t wait to share this experience with you … so check back next month.

www.petiteBox.com

If you’re like me then your friends have become baby breeding machines.  Four years ago all my friends were getting married, and then two years ago everyone was pregnant, and now everyone is having their second and third babies!

Don’t worry though – not me.  One and done – remember Babies on the Brain?  I’m sticking to that.  For now at least….so you don’t have to worry about reading crabby pregnant chick blog posts from me.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love babies, and I don’t love baby showers and baby gifts.  Well, I don’t lovvveee baby showers, but I do love to shower my friends with gifts.

With Baby #1 I always say stick to the registry.  Babies require lots of “stuff” – long gone are the days of grabbing your purse and keys and running out the door.  Now leaving the house is a strategically planned operation.

Now I must have my Juicy Couture diaper bag filled to the brim with diapers, wipes, a bottle, a sippy cup, socks, an extra jacket, toys, crayons…and omg, I am so that mom that always forgets something.  Seriously, I’m the mom whose kid went poop and I forgot the wipes.  Luckily I’m a Warrior so I always manage to pull through.

But back to baby gifts…so what happens when you are shopping for a baby shower the day before the shower and like the entire registry is bought up?  Or when there is no registry for mom friends expecting baby two or three?

Sure I can grab a gift card or some diapers but that’s kind of boring and impersonal.  I could make a fleece blanket – you know the one with the knots; that’s about as crafty as I get – but I honestly don’t have the time I used to have anymore with being a full time working mommy and blogger-extraordinaire.  I can barely squeeze in much needed counseling sessions and hot yoga.

So what’s a busy mom to do?  What if I don’t want a same-old same-old gift?  What if I’m not a creative crafty person who can crochet bonnets and mittens?

I totes have your answer!

petiteBox is THE perfect gift for new moms, moms expecting babies 2, 3, or 4 or even a special gift for yourself when you find out you are expecting.

I was recently introduced to this FAB new company, and I love not only the product but also the company’s vision as well.  petiteBox is a new high-end mom and baby subscription service from the founders of GlossyBox (a hugely successful European beauty box brand) and is now launching in the U.S.! (And FYI, GlossyBox is launching soon in the U.S., too, and I totes want in on that!!)

petiteBox says it best (from the petiteBox website):

Not sure which baby products are the best for your precious little one? petiteBox is an exclusive baby box service that sends the latest baby product samples from top brands and wellness products just for Mom straight to your door. Each month you’ll receive a new baby box full of baby necessities such as baby lotion, baby clothes, baby food, calming oils and more. The contents of the baby boxes change each month, but only the best baby products are always included. You will never get the same thing twice.

It’s a great way to make sure your newborn has only the best baby products and save money at the same time. Experts carefully select each baby item and petiteBox subscribers also receive free baby care advice. Giving expectant mothers petiteBox subscriptions is a great alternative to baby gift baskets. Mothers enjoy the surprise and utility of receiving a baby box every month. Each petiteBox delivery is like getting an extra treat you weren’t expecting—and more.

I have to disclose that I was sent a petiteBox so that I can introduce all my readers to this new company!  So exciting, I know!  In saying that I accepted this gift please know that all opinions are my own.

I am also super excited to share that I was invited to petiteBox’s launch party in NYC, and I am planning to attend the exclusive Mommy Blogger event.  I’m soo thrilled that I can be a part of petiteBox’s launch into the U.S.

petiteBox is differentiating itself from other subscription services by focusing as much on pampering us mommies as it is on nurturing babies.  The company’s emphasis will also be on discovering new products as subscribers will enjoy sneak peeks and exclusive access to the most luxurious and soon-to-be coveted products in the market.

petiteBox consists of a team of moms and experts who are ‘on call’ to support you, and as a new(er) mom I found my transition to mommyhood to be stressful, exhausting and overwhelming among all the other emotions I was feeling.  I’ve had a very public battle with Post Partum Depression (I am since recovered), and I find it soo important for new moms to feel loved and supported.

This is a great company who is all about finding the best for you and your baby – you’ll get lots of tips and tricks to navigate motherhood from midwives and medical experts as well as stylists and beauty experts to keep you feeling the best you possibly can.  Given its beauty background through GlossyBox, petiteBox will apply their expertise to provide moms with the best products to enhance their natural maternal glow, plus pampering at a time when it’s needed most!

I encourage you all to visit http://www.petitebox.us/ and ‘like’ their Facebook page.  You’ll be one of the first to discover this new and high-end service.  And dad’s, this is for you, too!  Here is your chance to shock your wives by surprising them with their own petiteBox subscription.  She can thank you every month for a whole year!  You can also sign up for the petiteBox online newsletter to be placed in a drawing to win a petiteBox.

I’d like to give a big thank you to petiteBox for my wonderful gift – some of which I will pass on to a new mommy friend and some of which the Chiquita has already dug into – she loves the sippy cup!

Ohmigosh, isn't this gorge???!!!

And then it happens.

It actually happens.

The moment you’ve spent so much time thinking about, but never actually thinking it’s going to happen.

It’s a moment that I’ve had nightmares about.  It’s a moment that I’ve worried about.

And it happened to me on Saturday.

Saturday morning after taking the Chiquita egg-hunting at Dominick’s Food Store at 7:30 am the fam and I decided to head to Starbuck’s for coffee.  It was me, Hubs and Chiquita, of course, and then my mom, aunt, uncle and cousin.  Yes, we were that family that all went to watch Chiquita Easter egg hunt and took pics the whole time.

Not to mention I had Chiquita all dolled up in her Juicy Couture (of course!) and my mom later told me, “We looked like high society at the egg hunt” like she was embarrassed or something, which is hilarious because she totes loves the Juicy bag I bought her for Christmas and uses it every day, so like, whatevs Mom, whatevs.  And can I help it that the Chiquita is a well-dressed tot?

Juicy Couture Baby

So we’re sitting in Starbuck’s when IT happens.

He walks in.

King Douche Bag.  He’s not even a Douche Lord, he’s the mother-fucking King.

He walks in wearing designer jeans, a black hoodie with a skeleton on the back and construction work boots.  His hair is short and brown.  He’s tan and has a scowl on his face as he walks through the door.

He looks exactly the same as I remember him but maybe a little thinner than the last time I had seen him.  He walks the same way though, like the arrogant narcissist that he is, with his chest puffed up and his muscles tight.  He’s a 40-year-old who walks like a 20-year-old frat guy ready to start a fight over the last Mad Dog in the refrigerator.

The last time I saw the King was my last day of employment as his office manager personal slave in 2007.  I walked out of his office with my head held high.  I knew that my decision was saving my life.

Needless to say, the King was not happy about my departure.  Yet as he handed back to me my letter of resignation he spit into the mud we stood on and said, “Well, that’s OK, I was going to fire you anyways.”

Unbelievable, I thought, as I had prayed that he would tear up my resignation letter and terminate me immediately.  Anything to get away from that man, that stress, that nightmare….

Two weeks later I remember putting my key and my pink hard hat on the table and turning to look at the office I was leaving for the very last time.  That office was full of so many memories….full of fear and hatred, full of laughs and cries…

I walked away from a life that benefited me financially but was killing me inside.

For months following my twisted and psychotic employment I had nightmares and anxiety.  I imagined the moment of running into the King soooo many times.

Sometimes I would punch him in the face.  I would knock him out cold and his 6 foot 200 pound body would crash to the floor.  Like a cartoon he would have stars circling the top of his head.

Sometimes I would yell at him.  My screams would come out in fluent Italian, and he’d stare at me with a bewildered look of shock and hurt.  The words they escaped my lips would come out like harsh but riddled poetry with hatred spilling from the depths of my soul.

Sometimes I would stop dead in my tracks at stare at him.  Too afraid to speak.  Too afraid to move for fear that I might actually kill him.  I’d envision cops being called and spending a night or a lifetime in prison.

Io non sono male, sto appena disegnato in questo modo

But when I saw him in actual reality on Saturday morning at my suburban Starbuck’s I did none of the above.

In reality I panicked.  I froze.

What do I do?  Do I say something?  Do I say nothing?

I simply sat there in awe over the King who stole so much from me and yet I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

And here he is right in front of me.  I just sat there.  I was shaking.

Minutes later he walked by with his coffee in hand and a smug expression on his face as he walked out the door.  It was like we were two strangers.

Have I changed that much?  Have I become a complete wimp?  Or is it that I realize he’s not worth the air from my lungs?  Is it that I’m trying to provide my daughter with a good example?  Is it that I’m actually afraid to confront the evil King?

Maybe it’s that for the first time in my adult life I know what I have.  I’m surrounded by people that I love and people that love me.  Yeah, he stole money from me and that sucks but I realize he actually gave me the greatest gifts of all.

#1 – King Douche Bag taught me about the kind of person that I don’t want to be.

And #2 – King Douche Bag is the perfect antagonist for my nearly finished book, Concrete Boots.

Come on now, you didn’t think I was going to let him off scot free now, did you?

So maybe I sat there and didn’t speak a word, yet sometimes silence speaks volumes.  There he was bitter and alone while I sat there with my family surrounded by happiness and love.

It was also the fire that I needed burning inside me to get me to finish editing this book that has been sitting on my desk finished for over a year.

Thank you, King Douche Bag, for giving me so much material.  Thank you for giving me a best seller.

And my promise to you Readers is that I will give you an excerpt by the end of the month!

About a week later I was pulling on another pair of jeans, and I could barely button those suckers up.  Hmmm…must be because I’m getting my period!

****

I got an email from Groupon – it was Groupon “Spring Break” deals.  The very first item on the list was a 5-Day Juice Cleanse from A Choice For Life, a Holistic Wellness Center in Chicago.

I’ve heard mixed reviews on cleanses – some people describe them as a great way to lose 5 – 10 lbs. and others think they are risky and dangerous.

I was feeling desperate though because my pants were getting tighter and tighter, and while I was attempting to eat better and workout I have to admit I wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

The cleanse cost $35 [on Groupon].  I figured it was worth a shot, for $35, why not?  I’ve never done a cleanse before, and I honestly didn’t even know if I had the willpower to go through with it.  I thought it was a good challenge for me as well.  I’ve been eating poorly and drinking too much wine, let’s clean out the tank and start fresh!  You know, some spring cleaning so to speak.

I purchase the cleanse and wait about a week for it to arrive in the mail.  I received the cleanse on St. Patrick’s Day and excitedly ripped the package open.  Inside is a [large] tea bag, a protein pack, and two sheets of paper.

I have the 5 Day Detoxification Program, Fresh Fruit & 100% Juice.

Detoxification is the removal of toxins, acid, mucus and poisons that have invaded your major organs such as the liver, kidneys, spleen, colon, brain, skin, eyes and blood system.

Well holy crap!

Step 1: Twice daily drink 12 oz. of the herbal detox tea in the morning and in the evening.  CHECK.

Step 2: Drink 6 oz. of the protein drink in the morning immediately following the herbal detox tea.  CHECK.

Step 3: All Day, eat fresh fruit and drink 100% fruit juices.  No meat, dairy, bread, pasta.  Eat only fruit.  All you can eat.

Well shit, look at this.  I can eat as much fruit as I want!  I can totes handle this.  No problem!  CHECK.

Step 4: Drink at least 64 oz. of 100% fruit juices on the days shown below.  Also drink 3-4 glasses of water.  CHECK.

Day 1: Sunday

I begin my cleanse on Sunday, March 18th.  I wake up starving at 7:30 am.  I am dying for an iced coffee, like seriously dying.

I drink my tea and protein shake.  By the way, 6 oz. is like nothing.

Not bad, but afterwards I’m still starving which I don’t quite understand because on any given day I don’t usually eat breakfast until about 9 am.  Am I this starving because I know I can’t eat?

Around 10 am I can’t take it anymore.  I need to go to the store and buy fruit and also the fruit juice I need to drink for the next 5 days.

Not to mention I decide I HAVE to get an iced coffee, but I will get it with skim milk and easy sugar.  I mean, that’s better than the way I usually drink it?  And I got a small instead of a large.

This coffee is terrible.  It’s amazing how good coffee tastes with tons of cream and tons of sugar. It’s like dessert.

Day 1 is apple juice.  I love apple juice.  As I’m eating my freshly purchased fruit my stomach is starting to kill me.  Fruit is like really sweet, and I’m gagging trying to eat it all.  I ate strawberries and grapes.  I’d honestly rather starve.  I don’t eat anymore fruit today.

I drink almost the entire 64 oz. (that’s a whole bottle!) of apple juice.  I feel disgusting.

As the day goes on I am very weak.  I am also very bitchy.

We take the Chiquita to the park, and as I’m standing there I feel like I’m going to fall over.  I wasn’t sure if I could even make the walk home.  I’ve seriously never been so hungry in my entire life.

It doesn’t help that it happens to be an 80 degree day in March in Chicago, and my husband wants to go to Dairy Queen.  Gee thanks.

I go to bed and dream about food.

I have 4 more days of this?

Day 2: Monday

At least I have to go to work today so I won’t be sitting at home all day wishing I could eat.  This is probably the first Monday in the history of my life that I’m excited to go to work.

I drink another small iced coffee with skim milk and easy sugar.

My choice for juice today is 100% organic lemonade or to squeeze 6-8 fresh lemons and mix with 64 oz. of water.  Because I don’t like lemonade (unless it’s mixed with vodka) I do the lemon water.  This was actually not bad, and I finished the 64 oz.  Yayy me!

I also pretended that I was a POW, and I was being starved to death by evil Nazi’s.  I can’t fold, I kept telling myself.  I must stay strong!

As weird as it sounds the POW reference keeps me strong and focused.  I do really well today.  3 more days to go, I can do this!

Day 3: Tuesday

I don’t do as well today.

My juice today is a choice of 100% papaya or 100% white grapefruit juice.  I don’t like grapefruits or grapefruit juice so I go to two different stores searching for papaya juice.  Naturally I can’t find it so I have to buy the grapefruit juice.  It’s no fun drinking a juice that you actually hate.  I only drink half the bottle.

I eat watermelon and cantaloupe today, and again I don’t eat nearly enough fruit because it is making my stomach sooo sick.

I have a handful of almonds.

This POMOW (Prisoner of my Own War) is starting to go a little crazy.  I’m soooo hungry.  I can’t even think straight.

I go to bed and dream about food.

Day 4: Wednesday

I’m gonna die.

I can’t do this for two more days.  I just can’t!  I’m starving.  Why am I doing this again?  Why am I practically starving myself?  Is this even normal?

At least today I get to drink 100% cranberry juice, 100% grape juice or 100% pineapple juice.  I opt for the grape juice because I’m a huge fan of grape juice.

I drink almost the entire bottle of grape juice.  I eat some kiwi and some pears.

I text my friend that I can’t do it anymore.  She texts me back BGP (Big Girl Pants from post Ramblings of a Single Mama).

I eat a handful of sunflower kernels and chug a bottle of water.  I sit at my desk and imagine this is what Kate Moss feels like.  I stare at my computer.

Eating is wayyyy overrated.

My bosses have to repeat things to me multiple times today because as they talk to me I stare at them with a blank face.

I text my mom that I’m dying.  She responds: Why are you doing this, Jennifer?

Must.  Eat.  Food.

Day 5: Thursday

I have made it through this cleanse starving myself for the past 4 days.  I feel near death.

My boss says, “You look like a wreck!” (Now there’s a compliment?) “You really don’t look so good today.  I’m starting to get worried.  When is this insanity over with?”

“Today is my last day,” I tell him, as I rub my stomach, which is growling.

Day 5 you have the joy of drinking 64 oz. of prune juice.  I drank half the bottle of prune juice, and I spent about half my day in the bathroom.  Having diarrhea.  In a public bathroom at my work.  It was disgusting and embarrassing.

It was like “ShitBreak” from American Pie.  I was embarrassed to come out of the bathroom stall because the stuff that was coming out of me was some funkyyyyy shit!

O-M-G. That's all I got.

I am the biggest bitch ever today, and I feel like I’m going to fall over at any given second.  I truly have not one ounce of energy.  I wonder what I’m doing to my body.  I kind of even wonder if I will live.

I’m in a lot of pain now.  My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my legs hurt…..sorry, tmi, but my butt hurts, too.

My husband tells me my skin looks yellow and begs me to eat.  I end up eating a small salad because I truly can’t eat any more fruit and I truly can’t stop going #2.

Then Husband tells me how I failed my mission because I ate said salad.  I wanted to kill him.  I sat at the table and yelled at him about how I was starving myself for 5 days for him, damn it, and couldn’t he appreciate it and tell me good job instead of telling me I failed?

He tells me I’m wayyy overreacting and it’s probably because I’m hungry.  I give him a death stare. He shuts the fuck up.

I go to bed and dream about food.

Day 6: Friday

I stop at Dunkin Donuts in the morning for an iced coffee.  Even though I get a large with cream and sugar, I do say easy cream and easy sugar.

I feel proud of myself.  I DID IT! Sort of.  I know I cheated here and there, but in my opinion I succeeded.

I basically didn’t eat for 5 days.
I ended up losing 5 pounds.
Would I say it was worth it?  Yes.
Would I do it again?  No.

I don’t recommend it.  I’m going to make sure I stick to working out and eating right.  My weight will fluctuate, and that’s OK, but instead of going to extreme measures I will remind myself what I went through as a POMOW.  I don’t think I could survive this again.  I don’t think my marriage would survive this again.

For those of you crazy enough to read this and think you STILL would want to try it here is the information you need:

A Choice For Life, Holistic Wellness Center
10650 S. Western Ave.
Chicago, IL 60643
(773) 239-7740
www.AChoice4Life.com

What extreme diets have you done to try to lose weight?

I’d also like to share that I do now wear a seatbelt – after receiving my 2nd seatbelt violation I decided to just start wearing the damn thing – and I also now use a seat cover on the toilet. Even though it takes an extra second to put down I decided I’d rather take the two minutes then get crabs from a toilet seat.

I hope you enjoy it and learn some bathroom etiquette!

Photo courtesy of Yahoo Photos

I know all my bathroom talk is frank – and probably pretty gross – but the fact of the matter is we all go to the bathroom and at some time in our lives we will all be forced to use a public bathroom.  Nothing is more annoying than people lacking proper etiquette in this shared space.

For men, you just walk in, whip it out and do your biz in the urinal…obviously God is a man.  But, for ladies, this is a bit more of a production.

I work in an office building with a shared public bathroom for all employees in the building.  I know some of the ladies from other offices, but others, even though I’ve seen them around I don’t “know” them.  This is because they won’t say hello or even acknowledge my presence in the bathroom.  WTF?  I realize we’re in a bathroom, but when you walk in and I’m washing my hands why can’t you say hello?

This one lady – she makes the effort to look at me every time.  And then she gives me a dirty look!  It pisses me off!  But, I take solace in the fact that not only am I cuter than her, but I’m obviously much nicer as well…

Some other issues I have:

The Tortoise and the Hare – These people drive me INSANE.  These are the people that time their bathroom breaks like they are running a marathon.  They literally marathon pee – they pee in a minute tops.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  What is your hurry?  I guess I pee more like the Tortoise.  I take my time…slow and steady.  These people that come in and pee ridiculously fast actually give me anxiety.  I don’t want to have to pop a Xanax every time I go to the bathroom because you’re in some crazy race with yourself to be the quickest pee-er in my office building.  Congratulations!  You took a piss in 49 seconds flat.  It’s a new Olympic record.

These speedy pee-ers also cause a ripple effect of other etiquette issues.  Let me proceed.

The Sloppy Pee-er – Because you are in such a hurry to pee and exit, you ultimately end up leaving your pee droplets on the toilet seat.  This makes me throw up in my mouth every time I walk into the toilet stall.  I need to do a thorough inspection of the toilet seat before I can even sit down.  I’m amazed at the number of women that can’t seem to handle getting their pee inside the toilet, as opposed to on the seat.  Gross, isn’t that what men do?  Let’s say most of us in this building are 30-40 years old.  We’ve had substantial practice with this; we should be pros by now.

Which brings me to…

The Leave Behind – These people have done one good thing.  They’ve managed to not pee on the toilet seat.  But, that is because they added two seconds to their marathon time by putting down the paper seat cover.  Now I have mixed feelings about the seat cover.  I understand its purpose.  And it does serve a good purpose.  However, it’s just not for me.  It makes me uncomfortable.  Sort of like a seat belt.  It’s there for a good reason – to protect.  But, when I wear my seat belt I just end up feeling uncomfortable, I can’t settle in right, my driving is off.  That’s exactly how I feel when I sit on a paper toilet seat cover.  Then every time I move it crinkles….and then the pee makes a funny sound when it hits the center piece you push through…let’s not even discuss if you have to go #2…

I know, I know!  I should wear my seat belt, and I should use a seat cover.  But, I don’t.  Sue me.

Someone once said to me, “You’re such an anal person it really surprises me that you don’t use the seat cover.”

Yeah, it makes sense.  I am one hell of a Type A organized freak, but I don’t know, maybe I’m not as high maintenance as you all think.  I can drink beer and burp with the boys!

And, let me say, I fully support those of you that choose to use a seat cover.  It is actually more beneficial to me if you use one.  So use away…my beef lies solely with those people that in their race to be the fastest pee-er in the building they end up flushing and running (the Flush ‘n’ Run) so quickly that they either a.) don’t notice that the paper cover didn’t go down or b.) they simply don’t care that it didn’t go down.

So, now, when I go into the stall there sits your protective paper cover.  Now how is it protecting me if I have to touch your paper cover to flush it down the toilet?  Not to mention, sorry, but the thought of putting it in the toilet and then pee-ing on it just grosses me out.  (See above, I’m simply not comfortable with that.)

The Sloppy Seconds – These are the people that think just because they are in a public bathroom they don’t need to keep it tidy.  They splash water all over the sink, countertop and mirror.  They leave toilet paper bunches on the floor.  They put on make-up and spill pressed powder all over the countertop and just leave it.  They leave long strands of hair on the vanity.  They dump out food/drink items in the sink and don’t bother to run the water…which is especially crucial if they dump soup or cereal. There sits the left-over floaties in the sink.  I’ve also seen feminine products ON THE FLOOR, and once, I’m not even joking, a needle?!?  (We called maintenance in case you’re wondering.)  We all know how annoying it can be to clean up after the man in our lives who splashes water every where with no regard for who cleans up after him (one of the Oompa Loompas?)  Not to mention hair shavings, which he leaves, splattered about the sink…but that’s another post.

This is not a port-a-potty; this is an f’ing office bathroom.  Pretend it is your bathroom and keep it clean!  And if you are sloppy, you at least get an A++ for washing your hands.  If you’ve ever been in the stall and heard someone leave and not wash their hands (in my case it’s always one of the Flush ‘n’ Runners) you sit and wonder who in the hell that person was?  How many hands will they be touching the rest of the day?  Could they have forgotten to wash or do they wash at their desk with hand sanitizer – which does NOT cut it.

The Pooper – Obviously at some time in your life you are going to have to go #2 in a public restroom.  It’s inevitable – especially in my situation working in an office building with a shared public bathroom for 9 hours/day.  I have sympathy for the poopers.  But, Poopers, try to have sympathy for those around you.  We understand its life and it needs to be done, but very simply DO A COURTESY FLUSH!

The courtesy flush was a suggested add-in by my friend.  I’m personally not a huge fan of the courtesy flush.  I know where she is coming from, however, doing a courtesy flush on a commercial toilet is just no fun.  These toilets are built to flush down bricks!!! The massive amounts of water racing through the toilet bowl inevitably ends up on your ass.  You are doing a courtesy flush to be considerate to those other bathroom patrons, but at the same time, you end up hurting yourself!  Sorry, I’m selfish.  I would rather you smell my stinky poop than have my feces splashing up on my back side.  That’s just how I feel about it.

The Space Cadet – Almost as annoying as the Tortoise and the Hare is the Space Cadet pee-er.  This special pee-er is truly a joy to be around normally.  They are the happy-go-lucky person that always says “Good morning” and always has a smile on their face.  But, they are also the annoying person who comes into the bathroom singing and/or whistling every day.  My bathroom breaks are my precious personal time during my work day.  As I said above, I like to take my time.  I like to sit and relax.  I do some of my best thinking while on the toilet.  I’ve even been known to pray while on the porcelain throne.  I realize this may sound odd to some people, but the bathroom is normally a place of solace.  It is the one place you can go and be by yourself with your own thoughts – except in public.  So, when the happy-go-lucky pee-er comes into the bathroom singing and whistling as I am deep in my own thoughts I feel disrupted.  I don’t like to be disrupted while I’m doing my business.  This also gives me anxiety.  The bathroom is supposed to be a peaceful place.  Let’s keep it that way.

The Hanger-Outer – Well, I’m definitely the Hanger-Outer.  I like to take my time.  I kind of slither in…I pick my stall…I am in no hurry to do my business.  I like to sit there for a second and relish in my own thoughts.  Now, I have two points with the Hanger-Outer.  One thing that annoys me as the Hanger-Outer is when the Flush ‘n’ Runners come in and go even faster because they think I’m the Pooper.  No.  Just reeeelllaaaaxxx.  I can sit in the bathroom and take a time out.  It doesn’t mean I’m taking a dump!  It’s simply a little “me” time.

But, on the other hand, one of the most annoying pee-ers is the Hanger-Outer.  Luckily I have bathroom etiquette so I don’t break the “rules.”  The issue with the Hanger-Outer is they never leave.  They hang out.  They want to blow their nose, check their make-up, brush their teeth, have phone conversations (No, I don’t do that)…which is all fine and dandy, unless you have the Pooper in a stall waiting to do their biz.  They’re likely to get a little stage fright if you’re in there just hanging around.  In that case, run the water and do your primping as fast as possible.  Then get out so the Pooper can poop in peace!

And lastly…

The Almost in my Stall – The Almost in my Stall pee-er is by far the WORST of all of the above offenders!!!  You know this person.  This is the person that walks into a bathroom and sees 20 empty stalls but still – for some reason unbeknownst to any of us – chooses to enter the stall right next to you.

What the f*ck are you doing?

I will never EVER understand why this pee-er feels the need to pee right next to me?  Or worse yet poop?  Please understand, I like you.  I will say hi to you and talk to you.  But, please respect my privacy.  Please do not sit in the stall next to me.  This offense actually angers me.  When I’m sitting in the stall having my “me” time and someone walks in and comes into the stall next to me, you completely distract my attention and you actually raise my blood pressure.  Do you want to be responsible for my future heart attack?  I start thinking, “What is this person doing?”  “Why must this person sit next to me?”  “What is this person’s problem?”  “Does this person have no bathroom etiquette?”  If you’re going to break a rule, I would not choose this one.  In my research I find that this is everyone’s MOST annoying offense.  Which makes me wonder who is actually committing this faux pas? Hmm…

As with my other posts, I feel the need to be a concerned citizen and to clarify the appropriate bathroom rules.  Please respect them so we can all have a more enjoyable experience when using a public restroom.

And P.S., NONE of these rules apply when you are at a venue – like a Cubs game – in that case, it’s every man and woman for themselves!

That said, I’m reading her post and see that another blogger tagged her in a post to answer questions about herself….you know like one of those emails you used to get that asked what you were wearing, what your favorite color is, etc.  They are usually titled “I Want To Get To Know More About You!” because you know, I’m dying to know what color undies my friend is wearing while sitting at her computer listening to classical music because it “relaxes” her.  Um…whatever.

As I continue to read I see that Szabo needs to pick 11 other bloggers to pass the fun onto.  As I scroll to the list I have a nervous stomach like back in gym class when I knew I wouldn’t be picked for the softball game because let’s face it, I’m more of an “indoor” girl plus half the time I didn’t even show up to class in my gym clothes.  So I have that nervous stomach feeling like, Omg, is Szabo going to pick ME for this fun game …. Followed immediately by, Oh no, Szabo picked ME for this fun game….Shoot!

See that’s the great thing about a woman.  If she wouldn’t have picked me I would have been all….what the hell, is my blog friend like not friends with me anymore, wtf?  But now that she did pick me, I’m all, shoot, now I have homework to do and what if my readers think this is totally gayyyyy?

And now I’m off on a tangent reminding you all why I’m crazy.

My first order of business for my homework assignment is to give you the “official” rules:

1. Post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post.
3. Create 10 new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
4. Tag 10 people and link them to your post. Let them know you’ve tagged them!

And now onto answering the questions!

1. What is the last thing that made you laugh out loud?
Honestly, SzaboInSlowMo’s last post, which I just read titled: Don’t Go To Work Unless It’s Fun. And I’m not just saying that because I’m friends with the cool kids.

2. Which sitcom family, new or old, most resembles YOUR family?
I always joke around that The King of Queens is totally me and my husband.  He is super sweet and laid back like Doug, and I am very fiery like Carrie!

Doug and Carrie

3. Do you like your first name? You don’t have to tell what it is–just WHY you like or don’t like it.
I don’t like my first name (sorry Mom & Dad) because it was on the Top 10 most popular list when I was born in 1979 so there were always 3 of me in every class.  I do like my middle name though.

4. What’s the last stupid thing you did?
The last stupid thing I did was quite embarrassing.  It involved me hitting the Chiquita in the head with a balloon [at the grocery store] and asking her “How do you like it???!!!!” after she first hit me in the face with the balloon.  Um…oops.  Not my finest teaching moment.  Yes, people were staring at me.  Add it to the list and check out my other Bad Mom moments…Haha!

5. You can have only one of these: Looks, Fame, or Fortune. Which do you choose and why?
Will you think less of me if I say looks?  I’m thinking with looks I can achieve fame and fortune.  Or I guess if I pick fortune I can buy fame and good looks…I don’t know!  I did always say if I was famous I would probably be dead.

6. Name a musical artist that you like, but might cause people to make fun of you if they know that you like them.
Omg, I’m obsessed with Britney Spears and have been since her very first single came out when I was a sophomore in college.  I used to blast “Baby One More Time” in my dorm room!  And I’ve been to four – yes four – Britney concerts.

7. What is something you do that drives your significant other crazy?
He hates when I belch [loudly]. Sometimes I do it just to bug him.

8. Name a celebrity that you just wish would go away.
I am sooo over Brad and Angelina.  They take themselves wayyy too seriously. And anyways, I’m Team Jen!

We are sooo awesome!

9. What adjective would people who know you most likely use to describe you? Just one word.
Hopefully loyal.  I am a very loyal person.

10. What’s your favorite smell?
Skunk!

Now for my questions.

1. If you could marry a food what would it be and why?
2. If you won the lottery what is the first thing you would do?
3. Would you rather be the President or a big celebrity?
4. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be (looks or personality)?
5. What is the best book you’ve ever read?
6. Briefly describe a wonderful childhood memory.
7. McDonald’s or BK?  Starbuck’s or Dunkin?
8. If you could pick to have one of these perks for the rest of your life which would you pick and why: personal trainer, personal chef or personal driver?
9. I couldn’t live without my: ______
10. If you could meet one person who would it be – famous/non famous and/or alive/deceased?

And now my 10 blog friends!  OK, I’m only going with 7.  Sorry, I’m breaking the rules.   And don’t forget to check out the blogs below.

Menopausalmother

DivineAthena

The Weed House

Midwest Belle

Theagoraphobicblog

Just Simply in Love

Thirty Something Fashion

Have a great day everyone!