book

so I decided to write a book, and I wanted to blog about the process, for future reference. Also to keep you updated, so you can preorder it on Amazon when it comes out. I started writing today, so I figure it should be done sometime around, um, well, maybe never (possibly sooner). I got a tiny baby laptop from my grandma (seriously, it is 9" X 6.5" when it is folded up) to help with the process, and so I figure I am well on my way. Now I just have to find a comfy spot, boot up, and let the story come out. So far I have learned that 1)lap tops are really hot when they are sitting on your lap, and that 2) my story is coming out, but it is all jumbled up, full of typos, 3) that naming characters is harder than naming babies, and 4) that writing a book is harder than reading one someone else has written.
I read on the internet that you are supposed to get your idea all pretty and then submit it like that, and write your book after someone agrees to buy it. (I think we all know that I have no patience, and will end up writing the story first, and then binding it at Office Max and giving it away for Christmas to everyone I know when it doesn't get published.) I am totally fine with that too.
So far I have a leading lady to has a tendency to wake up in strange beds and a gorgeous gay best friend, neither if which my grandma will probably appreciate, and will quite possibly come and take back the laptop, so I better get crackin while I still have the chance!

dry run

this morning I woke up extra early and dragged my friend Lorilee to Old Navy with me for a super shopping extravaganza! I could get 50% off of everything I could cram into a cute (read small) provided shopping bag. Well, it just so happens that I need some fun and sassy summer stuff (for summer and MEXICO which is coming up in less than a month). We got there early since the super sale was only available to the first 50 customers through the door (we were # 7 in line-haha, guess I was excited). After waiting in front of the store for over an hour, they finally let us in to shop. I found all kinds of Janina-licious goods, and crammed them in my tiny bag. I ended up with about 6 times the amount that would fit into my little bag, but somehow was able to use the force to charm the checker into using the discount for all of my goodies, (and Lorilee's--she was just as successful as I was), and we left giggling with hands full of bags, and the afterglow of a good shopping high.
A little later I had the grand notion to pack my new (and incredibly awesome) backpack for a dress rehearsal. I put in my new tiny lap top, (for writing my book, so I can make my first million), and all of my new clothes, and there was still a little, tiny bit of room left for my passport, and my quart sized zip top baggie full of 3.4 oz bottles of liquids,lotions and/or gels. I have been wearing it around ever since. Wish you were here to see it. It is a thing of beauty. (If it gets too heavy for me on the trip, I plan to make Alan wear it on his front like a baby, while wearing his own back pack on his back. I will be the cute one by his side, wearing the fab new summer clothes, taking pictures of nothing in particular, and singing mariachi. OLE!)

gearing up

Alan has been ignoring me. It is tax season and he is an accountant, so it is predictable,and even probably acceptable and excusable behavior. This doesn't make a bit of difference to me at all. I am a princess and need lots of attention, and when I don't get it I talk loud, act inappropriately and (wait for it...) go online shopping. Nothing numbs the pain like our rather handsome and distinguished UPS man arriving at my door bearing gifts, just for me.
We have a trip to Mexico coming up next month, so today I ordered us both (not quite) matching kick ass backpacks, (we aren't checking bags this time and I want to look cute whilst hauling all of my junk around for a week) and Alan got some new, super cool, strappy (yet supportive) flip flops. (does thongs sound more manly? Maybe he would prefer I called them thongs...never mind, no matter) They didn't have the (not quite matching) ones I wanted on this particular website so I will have to place my order later. (after I sell some random things that no one will miss from around here, to raise some money for overpriced footwear!)
Alan, if you are reading this, I miss you. (and, just a warning, that cutie in the brown keeps bringing me things (really, did I actually order ALL of this stuff?!?) and he is looking better to me all the time. Good thing April 15th is coming quick!)

disclaimer to those that are NOT Alan: the UPS man looks a little like my dad and while friendly, remains very professional and aloof-lest you start to worry that my marriage is failing at the hands of my out of control internet shopping obsession. It is not; however, I have gotten packages every day this week and there is no end in sight. If you haven't seen me for a week, please send in some back up, we may need an intervention, or at least maybe a casserole to feed the kids that I have been neglecting.

tell me more

Kids say the coolest things. Layla is old enough now to have a pretty good filter, so what she says is usually pretty acceptable for general consumption. Maggie on the other hand, is another story all together. She comes up with the very best, mind blowing realizations, and has no filter whatsoever. The cool thing about her though, is that even if she had one, I am pretty sure she would ignore it. (wonder where she gets that?)
Today we made deviled eggs (why are they called that?!) and Maggie proclaimed them to be better than lollipops. This is a pretty big deal, it is like if I said they were better than chocolate. She loves lollipops. Tomorrow she won't like them anymore, but today, they were the best thing ever.
Today she also came and snuggled up in my lap and started asking questions about Pluto. (the former planet) She wanted to know where it went, why it's not a planet anymore if it used to be, (hey, I think we ALL want to know that one) and if it was farther away than the moon. I told her it was even farther away than the moon and she said "good. then I love you all the way to Pluto and back, since the moon isn't far enough!" Sweetie girl.
then she followed up our "moment" with some poop jokes. nice. Gotta love a 4 year old.

ps-update today: she just called from the bathroom "MOM! is poop made out of oranges and milk and sandwiches and candy and donuts?" didn't wait for an answer and went straight into singing the alphabet song at top volume. Am I supposed to be able to keep up?

mixed media

we love art, it is our favorite thing (well, besides chocolate, and sleeping in, and beer, and ...).  The girls are always using anything they can find to make new and amazing projects.  We go through lots of tape and glue around here, lots of beads, cardboard boxes, crayons, markers, pipecleaners, well, you get it. They will make art with anything that is colorful, small, sticky, pretty, shiny, fancy, basically anything they can get their hands on.  Both of the girls are really into mixed media, and even don't like their outfits to match because they think then they are wearing mixed media. After finishing any project, I am encouraged to drop whatever I am currently doing, and run (if possible) to view the latest creation.
Tonight after Layla's shower she started jumping around and yelling "MOM COME QUICK!!"  (This makes me a little nervous, I don't know what to think so) I jump up, and run into the bathroom only  to see her grinning, and pointing at the shower wall.  There it was, her latest masterpiece.  It was me, made of hair, that had stuck on her hand while she was lathering up with shampoo.  I have been immortalized in hair, in the tub (practically the most prestigious place in the entire house). I have officially arrived.

I did what?!

this morning there was a HUGE (ok, it was tiny to smallish but whatever, it was really black and had tons of legs and was skittery and offputting) spider on the wall in my bathroom. I grabbed a piece of t.p., and squished it quick, and tossed it in the toilet. We then left for the morning and all afternoon. (flash forward hours and hours until now)

I just had to pee. When I turned around to flush I had a mild coronary infarction when I noticed a spider all smashed on the toilet paper I had just used. WHAT THE?!?!? I totally just crapped a spider and didn't even know it (nevermind I only peed), probably this means I am dying! Oh wait, um, I think that may be the spider from the wall this morning. phew. Crisis averted. (well almost, I am still completely freaked out by the thought that I peed the scary, black, 100 legged spider-even though it didn't really happen, and am feeling a little skin crawly and jumpy.. I am going to try to work through this with some chocolate and probably later plenty of Blue Moon-TGIF!)

shake what your mama gave ya

My mom has a secret. I know what is is, and since I can't (ever, no matter what) keep a secret, I am now going to spill it to you: she acts all serious and strict and matter of fact, but she can be pretty fun. (shocked?!) I remember one of the very first times that I had this monumentous realization. I was 5 and we were coming out of the grocery store with a cart full of groceries. While walking toward the car, she jumped up on the cart and started kicking one foot and riding it like a scooter, effectively leaving me in the parking lot dust. At first I was a little taken aback, (who is this crazy woman?), then I was jealous, (I want to ride that scooter cart!) and then it finally dawned on me-hey! my mom is fun. (YAY!)
Fast forward a couple of decades to now. I get a call from Mom asking me if I want to go to a male review when I am in Klamath for a visit. (um, what?!) Mom giggles and says it is a fund raiser and Tracy is selling tickets. (sidebar-until recently I haven't been back to Klamath very much as an adult, and when I go, we usually just hang out in the woods foraging and whatnot. On one visit though, probably about 10 years ago, I met Tracy while peddling lip gloss. Tracy is about my very favorite person to ever come out of Klamath Falls, she is quick, funny and pretty much just basically kicks ass.) It was as if fate had some how intervened and taken the decision out of my hands; my mom was taking me to watch strippers.
As we drove to the show, I felt a little nervous. After asking more questions about the "review" I had learned that these gentlemen were all over the age of 40 and most had never danced anything other than a two-step in their lives. I was thinking presentation would be crucial, this could go either way, it could possibly be the very best thing I had ever witnessed, or you know, not.
The following story is true, to the best of my memory, and I will now try my best to describe for you the events, (in stunning detail) since your mom wasn't fun enough to take you.
We found a parking spot right in front of the Moose lodge and headed in for the show. A handsome (and fully dressed) man was sitting behind a small card table by the door collecting the cover charge ($5 each). Behind him there was a snack buffet consisting of brownies, a chocolate fountain, crusty bread, mixed cheese cubes and assorted crudites. (very posh. Klamath, it is possible that I have underestimated you, or maybe, just maybe, you have changed in the 15 or so odd years since I left running and never once looked back. It is also very possible that the Moose lodge is like the fanciest James Bond hideout in a 100 mile range and women have never before been allowed to enter it's hallowed doors)
A very handsome Willie Nelson was wandering around with a tray waiting to bring you anything you would like from the bar. (ok, sorry, I know this is a lot of in between talking, but seriously!?! These are polite, handsome, sober men, dressed up, with full heads of hair and all of their teeth-IN KLAMATH!! and they want to serve me. I am thinking I may need to reevaluate everything I know to be true. Please stand by while I try some deep breathing and attempt to get my thoughts aligned.)
We order drinks (mom sprite, me, lite beer for fortitude) and go in to find our seats. In the middle of the room, there is a stage and runway/catwalk made out of plywood, and there, right in the center, jutting out in all of it's hand made glory, is a galvanized stripper pole. A friend of Mom's has saved seats for us, and they are directly at the end of the catwalk, with a first class view of everything that will grace the stage for the next hour or so. I desperately suck on my lite beer hoping it will somehow give me a buzz if I drink it fast enough (it didn't). The lights dim. I am getting a little nervous, luckily Willie swings by and drops off another cold one just in time (I think I might be in love).
Now, I would like to mention that this is the first "review" I have ever been to-ever. I glance around the room and look at the other women (and a few men) that are there with me and am getting the feeling that this isn't their first rodeo. A nice lady gets up on stage and shows us (probably mostly just me) how to properly hold our money so we can stick it in the panties of the dancers. Again I glance around, and see that everyone but me (and Mom) already has their money like this. I am so out of my league.
Thankfully, the first dancer out is Tracy's husband. He was fun to watch and actually a pretty good dancer-I am starting to feel like I might actually survive this night after all. Ladies (and one old guy) are having a great time, money is flying everywhere, I am laughing. There is one lady in the front row scrambling after dropped dollars to "recycle" them. I notice a really old lady in a wheelchair with a afghan over her lap and can't help but laugh. Was Klamath this fun when I lived here?
Dancer after dancer shuffle out to shake their stuff, and we are entertained by a cop, a hula dancer, a leprechaun, a hippie, bad Santa, and on and on. These costumes are amazing, the attention to detail is hilarious, but my personal favorite was the layers of underwear. I don't know if it was pride or what (probably their wives made them, for the sake of everyone) but there was always at least 2 pairs of undies. Tighty whities seemed to be the under layer of choice, but one guy even wore cut off jeans under his fancy tuxedo thong panties. Over and over men came out in their underwear(s) with knee socks pulled all the way up and shiny church shoes on (or velcro orthopedics). I start to get a cramp.
At one point Mom had to sneak out to use the ladies room and when she came back there was a guy wearing camo with a stuffed python hanging out of his pants. When she realized what it was, she immediately covered her eyes and made an audible squeak (guess there are fun limits-ha!)
One fellow sat on my lap, one did his best sexy dance by trying to floss his ass (through countless layers of undies) with a sparkly winter scarf, one played bagpipes, Santa had candy canes.
It is obvious to me now that I am wasting my time. There is no way I can possibly convey the sheer amazingness of the evening to you. My only advice would be to try and catch a show if you ever get a chance, I hear they are already getting requests for future bookings....Elks lodge anyone? Even if you have to steal your baby's milk money and pay with quarters-GO!
I found out that the lady in the wheelchair was 99 years old, and getting to ogle Klamath's finest was her valentines day present. I am telling you the truth when I say I have never had as much fun in Klamath before. (well maybe one time, but I can't tell you that secret, since it's mine)