A tisket, a tasket...

Oh my gosh! Have you missed me? I miss me too! I got a stupid-ass job and now I have no life at all. If only we could all live the good life on the barter system--I could trade funny but bitchy blog posts for food, shelter and granite counter-tops.

Anyway...I went to another one of those "come over to my house and buy shit from my imaginary store" parties. I really don't like those parties, but I'll do just about anything to get out of the house so I went. Now, I don't have anything against multi-level marketing or anything...especially if the product is good and I will actually use it...but let's be serious here. When you invite someone over to your house for a REAL party, you don't suggest that they bring a friend to get a free gift. Conversely, you don't go to one of these "parties" for the conversation, unless you like to pretend that you are participating in the world's longest infomercial. You also don't show up at a "party" expecting NOT to buy something. I can't tell you how many times I have been to one of these events and over heard women comparing notes on the cheapest thing they could possibly buy and not look like they were just trying to buy the cheapest thing so they could get the fuck out of there. Honestly, does anyone even believe that whole "don't feel like you HAVE to buy something" crap? Of course you have to buy something...that's why you were invited! I would never be so stupid to think that if I accepted an invitation to a "buy stuff party" and didn't actually buy something I wouldn't be raked over the coals by the hostess and her friends the minute I left. I remember going to one of those retarded basket parties once. I had no idea how expensive those stupid baskets were! I was struggling to find anything in the catalog that was under 50 bucks! Plus, those rabid basket lovers had no sense of humor whatsoever. We were all sitting around listening to the basket lady's spiel (well, I wasn't really listening. I was drifting off because I had already had, like 3 glasses of wine.) and she told us to look on page 10 of the catalog. We all dutifully did and she said, "See that picture? It's the Longaberger basket factory! It looks JUST LIKE this Longaberger basket!" and she held up an ordinary looking picnic basket.
I was so floored by her enthusiasm for this ridiculous fact that I snidely said, "Only bigger, right?" She looked at me with her best confused-puppy look and sweetly said, "What?" And I replied, "Well, you said it looks just like the basket you're holding and I was just hoping it was bigger," and then I started to laugh because I thought it was fucking hilarious and I had already had 3 glasses of wine. I'm not kidding you when I say that I was the only one who saw the humor in that. I looked around the room and no one was even smiling which just made me laugh even more. I was practically crying at this point. I made things worse by adding, "Imagine how small the workers would have to be! They'd all be slaving away to make these humongous baskets. It would take those tiny little elves a year to make just one basket! No wonder they're so expensive!" Okay, now I was really laughing because the whole concept of going to someones house to buy $150 baskets was so stupid...but, yet, there I was anyway! What the...?!?!? Plus, I couldn't imagine how many drugs you would have to be on to actually think you could make a living selling these over-priced baskets in people's houses in a "party" context and get all excited about a factory shaped like a frickin' picnic basket. I actually had to leave the room because I was laughing so hard and I was obviously offending everyone with my superior sense of the absurd. Needless to say I was never invited back to that woman's house again. But, honestly...who has a stupid basket party to begin with?

In any case, some of these parties I actually love. I LOVE Pampered Chef parties. I get to watch someone (besides me) cook and I always really WANT to buy something. I really do use all 3 sizes of scoops I bought. (I didn't really think I would, but I wanted the complete set so I bought them all.) I also love any party that includes make-up. Because I used to be a make-up artist it's fun for me to see what's out there and to hear the funny shit the "hostess" will say to sell it even though she has NO CLUE what she's talking about. (Now, I have a friend who sells skincare and makeup and nutritional products in this "party" way and she is actually really good. She knows a butt-load about the nutritional and skin-care products, but doesn't know beans about make-up because she rarely wears any. Because she is a frickin' genius she asked me to come and do some make-overs at a "party" at her house and I did it because she enticed me with a basket of free stuff. Love free stuff! I had a lot of fun and she sold a bunch of make-up, so it was a win/win, except for the fact that she keeps trying to suck me into the "cult". I have resisted so far, but I also won't drink any beverage she offers me.) So, this party I just went to was a new product I have never heard of...Lia Sophia jewelry. I like jewelry as much as the next guy, so I thought I would go even though I knew the mark-up on the stuff was somewhere around a million percent. Whatever. I have a stupid job now so I can buy myself some over-priced costume jewelry out of a catalog while I'm half-popped on cheap wine coolers if I want to! Despite myself, I had fun looking at the stuff and actually bought something I really like. We'll see how I feel about it when I actually get it. It was fun at the moment and I cheerfully wrote the check for it, but I came home with NOTHING. That's what I hate about these parties. When I buy something, I want it right now. I don't want to wait until the hostess decides to "close the party" and then wait another week for shipping. I want to go home and have it in my hands so I can play with my new toy right away. By the time my new necklace reaches me my wine cooler buzz is a thing of the past and I really might want that 40 bucks back. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Let Them Eat Cake!!

My oldest daughter, Brenna, just started 7th grade this year. So, you know what that means...I am just waiting for her to get her period. All of her friends already have theirs (one of them got it on the day of Brenna's 12th birthday party...at the beach. That was interesting.) Her really close friend (let's call her "C") got hers for the first time the day she was coming to stay with us for a week. Now, I have known this child since the day she was born because her mother is one of my very closest friends, so when my friend told me that C had gotten her period that day I started to cry. We were standing in my driveway crying and C came out of the house to see what was going on. I told her that her mom had just told me that she got her period and C kind of rolled her eyes and got all red. So, to make her feel more comfortable I told her about the day I got my period for the first time. This is a true story, I swear.



I got my period when I was a freshman in high school. I woke up in the morning and there it was. Yipee. I went downstairs to the kitchen and told my mother and she said, "It's OK. I have everything you need. I'll go get the belt." Now, for those of you that don't know what the belt is,
I have provided a picture. Imagine THAT in between your legs all day. I took one look at it and said, "You have got to be kidding. Mom I want the stick-on kind."

My mom said, "What are you talking about? There's no such thing."

"Yes there is, Mom."

"No, there isn't. I've never heard of them."

"Just because you haven't heard of them doesn't mean they don't exist."

This argument went on for 5 minutes. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table looking at the sports page, trying really, really hard to pretend he couldn't hear us. I thought his head was going to explode at one point because his face was so red. At one point my mother started to go upstairs to the bathroom where she had my "belt" and "napkins" all ready, and I followed her telling her about the great strides Kotex had made in the sanitary product realm. Finally she agreed to send my poor father to the store to see if the "stick-on kind" were real. My dad practically ran out of the house. He probably smoked 15 cigarettes on the way to Jewel.

Twenty minutes later he came in the house with two full paper grocery bags. I swear, he bought every single variety of pads out there...and they were all "stick-on". (You would have thought, with the amount of soap operas my mother watched while ironing she would've seen a plethora of commercials for this product. I mean, come on! Kotex had to have had a million ads on during "As The World Turns". I mean, that was their target demographic!)

Anyway, I ran upstairs to stick the stupid thing on and go to school. My mom's advice to me that day was...Don't wear pants or everyone will be able to tell you are "menstruating". What the hell? I guess when you have on the "belt" it would be pretty easy to tell if you wore pants (see above picture if you have any doubt) but I felt safe enough with my stick ons under my Calvins.



So, I made it through my day at school unscathed. But all that ended when I got home. My mom and dad told me to get in the car at about 4:00 because we were going out to dinner. That, in and of itself, wasn't so weird. We went out for dinner upwards of 4 times a week. You see, my dad was a stockbroker who made great money and my mom was a shitty cook. (I remember one year for my birthday my parents asked me where I wanted to go for dinner and I said, "How about home?" because it was such a novelty. We did stay home that year but, ironically enough, we ordered in.) So, we got in the car and off we went. I asked my dad where we were going and he grumbled, "Ask your mother." This was not a good sign. "Mom....?" I asked.

"Oh! Well, we're going to Benihana's," she chirped.
Well, I didn't know why my dad was so bent out of shape about that. Benihana is like dinner and a show because it's one of those places where a bunch of people sit around a hot grill and the chef cuts up your food right in front of you and cooks it and then flips it on your plate. It's like stir-fry. I was pretty happy about this until we got in the parking lot and I saw my sister and her brand new husband waiting for us. When I asked my mom what they were doing there she said, "They're having dinner with us. I asked your brother and Jean too, but they couldn't make it. (pause) Did you tell your sister your news....? You know, about, um, well...menstruating?"

At that point I knew I was doomed. My mom had planned this whole thing as a "celebration dinner" for God's sake. The only saving grace was that my brother and his wife weren't there too, or at least I thought. You see, at these places they seat 7 or 8 people around a grill. So, there was my mom, my dad, me, my sister and her husband. That's 5. So they seated two total strangers at our table. A young couple. On a date. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but, you see, after dinner the chef disappeared and came back with a cake. With candles on it. I looked around to see if it was some one's birthday, but no. He set the fucking cake right in front of me. It had writing on it that said, "Congratulations Carolyn". I wanted to take the big-ass knife he had prepared our dinners with and plunge it in my chest. The chef just stood there, because you don't have to sing "Happy Birthday" at this particular occasion. I didn't know what to do. The total-stranger girl-on-a-date at our table said, "Oh! Congratulations? What is the occasion?" While I had my eyes shut, praying to God that my mother would make up something or that my stupid sister would save me from further humiliation, I heard my mother say, "Carolyn became a woman today!"
I opened my eyes and watched the girls face go from confusion to a dawning understanding to utter horror. Her hapless boyfriend was still confused and started to say, "What?" when his girlfriend whispered in his ear and he turned bright red.
Needless to say, I have never been back to Benihana.

So...I told this whole story (keep in mind we are still standing in my driveway) to my friend and her daughter, C, who had just gotten her period. When I was done, my friend was practically peeing her pants she was laughing so hard. C was just standing there with her mouth open, staring at me in complete disbelief. She said to me, "What did you do?"
I looked at her and said, "I really don't remember, but right now I'm going inside and baking a cake!!" and I ran in the house with her running behind me yelling, "Noooo!!!!"

By the way, the couple who sat at out table both had big fat pieces of my "period cake".