Just Call Me Mrs. Jackson--In Honor of a Legend

The following is a re-post of a Humor Carnival post I wrote back in October about growing up in the 80's. I hereby resurrect this little gem for y'all in remembrance of a great performer, and my very first love, Michael Jackson. Yes, he was creepy, disturbed and controversial in his later years, but I loved me some Michael back in the day...enjoy!

When I was six years old, I wanted to marry Michael Jackson. I had this super hot poster of him in a yellow sweater vest (yes, I said sweater vest, so what?) and he's all suave and serious, pouting at the camera and his geri curl was all shiny and voluminous and I just stared at that photo and wondered what it would be like to be Mrs. Michael Jackson.

OK, well now I know what it would have been like--CROWDED--with all the little kids and monkeys in bed with us. But back then there was nothing more I would have loved than spending every day and night with him and being his "pretty young thing." Macaulay Culkin has all the luck...

As a dreadfully misguided 6-year-old, I had another crush that was destined to be unrequited. OK, if you laugh at me here, I will kick your ass. No I won't, because you have every right to laugh at me. I loved (oh God, I can't believe I am admitting this--it's all for the friggin' Humor Bloggers carnival, I'll have to keep telling myself that)...

Boy George.

Yes, NOW I know that he was (is) flamingly gay, but people, I was only SIX!! Cut me some frikkin' slack, would ya? I just loved his hat and his clothes and it was oh-so-mysterious how he would wear eye makeup, and I was just all ENAMORED over him and his melancholy tunes. I had the vinyl record single of "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?" and I remember playing it over and over again in my parents' livingroom, swaying to the music and pretending that I was onstage with my beloved, cross-dressing boy, singing back up.

Yeah, so it was the eighties, OK? Stop judging me.

I also rocked the Punky Brewster look with the scarves tied around my leg. And how I loved to wear, like, SIX pairs of scrunchy socks and layer them so my ankles looked like a verifiable rainbow. Don't forget, the pants HAD to be pegged for this look to work, so when my mom bought me straight leg pants--OH MY GOD--you just cannot peg straight legs, you need tapered legs, and I just couldn't see how she didn't understand that! But of course in her day, she wore bell bottoms, which to me back then were the most hideous item of clothing you could ever pull on your body, but what do I wear today? Flared leg jeans, which are pretty much bell bottoms, so I guess I am biting my tongue now about all the times I made fun of my mom's bell bottoms. Whatever.

Now, THE coolest thing about my childhood in the eighties was the year that my mother dressed me as Madonna for Halloween, and if I really loved y'all I would post the pic here, but really, I don't know you ALL that well and that picture could end up in the hands of someone that would abuse its powers and nobody wants that. So instead I will paint for you the image of me, at 7 years old, in fishnet tights, a short black miniskirt, a black jacket with a gold lamee pyramid on it that my mother MADE (she's totally tubular, you know), and enough eye makeup to sink a ship. Yes, I had seen Desperately Seeking Susan and there was nothing cooler than Madonna in that movie, she was just such a bad ass. So I walked around our neighborhood, pretty much looking like my mother had allowed me to dress as a prostitute for Halloween, and it was the BEST HALLOWEEN EVER.

I think I got more candy that year, really I do.

Stay tuned for my post about the golden years of the nineties, complete with Doc Martens, flannel shirts and a very calamitous tale of piercing my own belly button. I will save that one for when you've been really good...and I might even share some pictures...

MAYBE

Hooray for He Blogs, She Blogs Day

Nothing to see here folks, head over to He Blogs, She Blogs, where Captain Dumbass and I are expounding on the art of driving.

Plus, there's a really funny picture of a cat over there. So go...now.

Not Now Dear, I Have a Headache...

Go check out today's edition of Sex and The Suburbs about getting it on with the kids in the house. It will be good for some laughs and just maybe some valuable insight. Maybe.

And the time has come yet again for me to reach out to you, my wonderful and faithful readers, for some feedback for my column. It's all about the age-old story, when dad rolls over and starts to rub mom's shoulders, letting him know he's in the mood and mom just...isn't.

So we all know that honesty is the best policy and we shouldn't have to tell little white lies to our partners to get out of sex, but it is a reality that sometimes mom just doesn't feel sexy or is just really, really tired, and maybe she doesn't want to hurt dad's feelings, or perhaps she is constipated and really doesn't want to share that particular tidbit with her honey--WHATEVER. Then there are the times when you do it even though you don't feel like it...so how do you get the point across that you just aren't into it or that you would like it to be more like a one minute mile rather than a distance marathon? Or does your hubby do something that always makes you want to do it (maybe he is the king of foreplay or knows just the right thing to say to you to make you want to jump in the sack)?

Whatever it is, I need all the moms out there to send me your experiences with this. After a long day of changing diapers, working, taking care of the house, whatever it is you may do, when hubby decides he wants some nookie, and he wants it NOW (and you don't), how do you brush him off? Maybe you are like me, and you do it anyway, but give him subtle hints to keep it short this time. Perhaps you get really creative...whatever it is, I need to know!

You can e-mail me at sexandthesuburbs2009@gmail.com or leave it in the comments section of this post, but either way if it is used in the column it will be completely anonymous. All names will be changed to protect the innocent (or not so innocent, as the case may be).

This edition of Sex and The Suburbs will go up two weeks from today, and it will be all about getting in the mood, what works and what doesn't and how we communicate with our partners when we just aren't feelin' it. It's going to be funny, but hopefully informative. But it will be much better if I hear from all of you!

Lastly, I am getting serious about getting the book version of Sex and The Suburbs written, so if anyone out there has any tips or resources for me for getting it published, please pass them along. I would greatly appreciate it! I also still need plenty more moms to fill out my motherhood and sex survey, so if you haven't yet and you are interested, please e-mail me so I can send it to you!

Thanks everyone! Have a fantastic Wednesday!

San Diego, How Do I Love Thee?

As some of you may know, I went to San Diego with my husband last week for four whole days of being sans children in a gorgeous city, with absolutely nothing to do.

It was heaven.

Can I just tell you that I used to HATE being alone? No, I mean it, the last thing I would ever have wanted to do was spend four days all by myself, going places in a strange city on my own and having hours of uninterrupted quiet. But now? After 8 years of being a parent and not even getting to go to the bathroom alone--it's my new nirvana.

Since hubby was in San Diego for a convention, that meant that my days were all for me. I set it up so I didn't have to do much work, but I brought the laptop so I could Facebook and Twitter in bed in the hotel room about all my fabulous adventures. I also had my very first IM meeting with my editor without my 3-year-old screaming and pulling on me before, during and after. I could actually concentrate on thoughts in my head, and I even took naps. NAPS! But the coolest thing was that I got out of the hotel and explored San Diego solo, something that makes me extremely proud.

The first day I simply walked down the street from the hotel looking for a convenience store for some drinks and snacks, but I did make friends with a rather nice cabby who gave me a card and told me it would be about 30 bucks to get to La Jolla the next day, where I was planning to go. I took these pictures along the way:

Yes, those are palm trees! OK, you can commence making fun of me that I was so excited to see actual palm trees that were not planted in a pot that I took pictures of them. But you will probably make fun of me more for this one:

I took this one because the landscaping at the hotel next to ours was really pretty. Yes, I am lame. Whatever.

So then I went and had lunch at the hotel restaurant, only the second time I have ever sat in an establishment and eaten by myself. May I just add that the restaurant was called the Tickled Trout? Best. Restaurant. Name. Ever.

That night we went to Old Town, the oldest part of San Diego where the Mexicans originally settled. We had dinner at La Pinata, which was a little Mexican restaurant filled with, you guessed it--pinatas! We also got serenaded by a dude with a guitar and another dude gave me a rose and then promptly looked to my husband for payment. HA! now that's the way to make a sale! Here we are at dinner"

Believe it or not, I had only had one beer, despite the fact that I look totally smashed in this picture. It must be the glasses...

We walked around Old Town and bought souvenirs that night and also had drinks at the Tickled Trout when we got back. We met an awesome bartender named Pete and an old Mexican dude named Mariano DelGado who taught us how to make pineapple salad with chile pepper and salt. He claims it is awesome. I took his word for it.

Also, the bartender totally got rid of my husband's hiccups by having him eat a lemon with bitters on it. it seriously worked--IMMEDIATELY. I have never seen anything like it. That reminds me that I have to run out and get some bitters...

So the next day I decided that I wanted to do something special and pamper myself so I made an appointment with this upscale salon (well, upscale to me who likes to pay $12 or less for a haircut) called Dearinger, and had an incredible haircutting experience with my stylist, Mitsu who was the coolest Japanese guy with a bleached blond mohawk on the back of his head. I could barely understood a word that he said but he styled me up good, complete with head massage, aromatherapy and hot, moist towels...ahhhhhh. I really wanted to take a picture of him, but I felt a little weird, so I chickened out. But here is a picture of the salon:


After my haircut, I just walked the streets of La Jolla, towards the ocean, cause I figured it would lead me to the beach. Which it did. And there were actual surfers there! I had never seen real life surfers in person before, so I was pretty stoked (yes, we have already established that I am SUPER lame). Walking down to the beach, I took this picture because it made me feel like I was in a movie:

Doesn't that look like a scene from a movie? Yeah, I thought so too.

Once I was on the beach, of course I took pictures of the surfers cause they were, like, totally rad:

I walked on the beach for a while, then headed back to downtown La Jolla where I did some shopping, had coffee at a Starbucks and called for a cab. I felt so grown up and brave traveling around by myself.

That night we had dinner with clients at an awesome Italian restaurant on Pacific Beach called Cafe Bella Italia. The food was delish and the clients were awesome--straight from Banglor, India, the owner of the company is a woman and mom of two grown kids and SO smart and wordly. I was thoroughly impressed at the woman power sitting next to me.

The next day was my day to totally veg out and I did almost nothing. I watched a movie on my laptop, slept for THREE HOURS and goofed off on Facebook and Twitter. I couldn't remember the last time I had stayed in my pj's all day and laid around in bed. Awesome with a capital "A." Then that night we had dinner at Joe's Crab Shack, where I did not eat crabs because I don't like seafood, but the steak I had was pretty good. The Sea Turtle Brownie Sundae, however, was AMAZING.

The trip was about three or four days too short, though, and we had to leave early the next morning to come home. Here I am on the plane:

I look pretty happy for someone who was crammed into a window seat half the size of my ass with my knees up around my chin. American Airlines seating certainly leaves something to be desired and its starking contrast to the Jet Blue flight we had on the way in made it that much harder. But thankfully, we had a nice tail wind that brought us into Boston in about 5 hours, rather than over 6, like we had the first time. I got some work done, watched half of Twilight on my laptop and drank some really bad coffee and ate a HUGE chocolate chip cookie.

That's it. We got home safely, went and picked up my daughter, which was the absolutely highlight of the day since I had missed her a ton! We also picked up the dog, who I must admit, was a little more excited to see us than our daughter was, but you know how dogs are. And 3-year-olds.

All I have to say is, San Diego, I heart you. And I can't wait to go back. A big thank you to my husband, because the trip would not have been possible if it hadn't been for his convention. And because of said convention, I got to enjoy my newfound love of alone time.

But I must admit, I am pretty psyched for the next business trip because me and the kids might be going and it is somewhere I have never been...

DISNEY WORLD HERE WE COME!!!!!!!!!!!!

Silly Questions

At swimming class today, my 3-year-old daughter was swimming and having a grand old time. Her swim instructor and I got to talking and I told her how she had been playing her new guitar that we got her in San Diego non-stop and that she had told us of her new desire to be a rockstar. To prove to her that she had, indeed, said this, I asked her "Baby Girl, what are you going to be want you grow up?"

She looked at me like I was the 3-year-old and had just asked the most ridiculous question she had ever heard. I repeated myself, thinking maybe she hadn't heard the question, to which she sighed, rolled her eyes and replied matter-of-factly:

"A grown up."

The look on her face clearly said "Mom, you ask the silliest questions, what do you think I am going to grow into, an aardvark?"

I laughed about this all the way home.

Reality Bites

Well, I am back from San Diego and may I just say it EFFING ROCKS??!! It was gorgeous, the weather was great and I spent mucho time relaxing in the hotel room, getting work done in the peace and quiet, taking afternoon naps, and exploring San Diego on my own while hubby was at the convention. It was an incredible vacation, which has rejuvenated me for the long, hot summer ahead in which I wait rather impatiently for my house to be completed and work my ass off trying to write my book, all while keeping the children sufficiently entertained. Thank you to my wonderful husband for bringing me along--it was a GODSEND!

But I must admit, I missed my kids something fierce and was practically tearing the armrest off the passenger seat of the van as we drive down my mother's street to pick up my daughter. Although I could have used a few more days in sunny San Diego, I am not quite sure I could have lasted that long without some kisses and hugs from my babies.

So here I am, back to reality. There is a lot to be done, and I am way behind, plus I left my planner in the hotel room in SD, even though I scoured the room and was positive I hadn't forgotten anything. So, needless to say, I am feeling quite a bit discombobulated today. Because of this, we are skipping He Blogs, She Blogs this week, and I am going to put off a post full of details and pics from my trip for another day when I don't have the weight of the world on my shoulders. Throw in the fact that Father's Day is this weekend and I may just explode! AAAGGGGHHH!!!

However, yesterday my column went up over at SexIs Magazine, so feel free to go read that because it was written weeks ago when I was much more put-together. And please, PLEASE comment on the forum post under the article and give me some feedback. I need all the moms out there to interact with me if I am going to get this book written. Plus, I just want to know what you think so I can keep making the column better for y'all.

So head over there:...and I promise soon I will have a fantastic post complete with pictures all about San Diego!

I'm Rubber and You're Glue and Everything You Say Bounces Off Me and Sticks To You

I think I won the award for the longest blog post title ever. Well, maybe not, cause The Bloggess has some LONG ASS titles sometimes. Oh well.

Anyway, the reason for this post is that I have been party to some negativity lately and I want to talk about it. I am a SUPER sensitive person and don't deal well with people being meanie buckets, but I realize that putting yourself out there on the internet is opening yourself up to criticism, people who don't agree with you, and just downright nasty people. I also don't really enjoy drama (as unbelievable as that may seem) and will usually choose to ignore someone that is being negative and mean rather than confront them and create a scene. But this last incident struck a chord with me that made it impossible for me to ignore it. This person attacked my character as a wife and mother. And that just ain't cool.

This person left this comment on He Blogs, She Blogs:

"Petra. Sounds like you're the bad cop. All you blog about is losing your patience with the children. And then you only have bad things to say about Captain Dumbass. What kind of lover and parent are you?"

To which I read, almost threw up, couldn't see straight with fury and then responded with this:

"Obviously you don't read my blog and read about how much I love and adore my children and my husband, and you apparently have no sense of humor either, because my comment to Captain Dumbass was completely in jest.

I am being honest with my readers about losing my patience with the kids, because ALL PARENTS DO, no matter how much they love them.

Ever heard if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all? I am an AWESOME lover and parent, and you have NO right to judge me. What kind of person are you, going around leaving your first comment on someone's blog and making it nasty and accusatory?"

Now, I need to know, did I do the right thing here? Should I have turned the other cheek and been the bigger person and ignored it? I didn't feel it was right to delete it, because he has just as much right to leave his opinion in a public forum as anyone else, but why is it necessary to be such an ass?

Am I wrong here people? I honestly want to know. Is it appropriate to leave nasty comments on other people's blogs? I don't think so, but maybe I have a skewed vision of blogging and what it should be. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, nor like me. But in my opinion, if you don't agree or like me, let me know in a respectful way or move along to a blog that has what you are looking for.

Maybe I am totally off base...

He Blogs, She Blogs: Dirty Harry Edition

Go read He Blogs, She Blogs and all about how Captain Dumbass is like Dirty Harry and his wife is an Asian version of Danny Glover. Seriously, that dude is funny.

Sex and The Suburbs: The Post-Baby Body Dilemma

Hey everyone, head over to Sexis and read this week's edition of Sex and The Suburbs, which focuses on BODY IMAGE and the post-baby body blues. I am still suffering from this, and yes, my daughter is 3 years old.

And please look for the forum post underneath the article started by me and give me your feedback!

XOXO Smooches XOXO

Calling All Parents Who Have Had to Tell Their Children That Mommy and Daddy Were Just "Wrestling"

OK, so it's not for something as noble and important as serving your country in the line of duty, but it's pretty important.

I want you to send me your stories of your children walking in on you and your spouse, significant other, etc. doing the horizontal mambo OR your stories of walking in on YOUR parents having sex back in the day. I want to know how it happened, how you felt, what you said, all the dirty details that will help enhance my upcoming column for Sex and The Suburbs, all about getting it on with rugrats in the casa.

So come on people, I know you have some stories! Send them to sexandthesuburbs2009@gmail.com. As always, you will remain completely anonymous; I respect your privacy!

And look out for my Sex and The Suburbs column tomorrow at Sexis Magazine. It's all about moms and body image, something I know lots of y'all can relate to!

Letter To My Son's Friends

Dear 8 and 9-Year-Old Boys Who Came To My Son's Sleepover Party Saturday Night,

Thank you for making me realize that my son may not be the worst behaved kid everywhere we go, and for making me appreciate the silence and lack of complete chaos and fear of setting anything on fire after you left. Please remind me if I ever offer to have a sleepover ever again that you are all absolutely out of control, inappropriate, rude, disgusting, and obnoxious, and either urge me to rescind the invitation or invest in ear plugs, a large amount of Xanax and sleeping pills.

Oh yeah, and thanks for coming.

Sincerely,
Big Boy's Mom (you know, the woman with glasses that you paid absolutely no attention to on Saturday night)

P.S. This does not apply to you, Sam, the well-behaved boy who was mild-mannered, polite and sweet and made me and my husband laugh, as well as knew a lot about baseball and made us want to adopt you. You, we would like to see again. We're willing to sweeten up the deal if you would spend more time with our son and rub off on him a bit. Thanks a bunch.

I Knew There Was Something I Was Supposed To Do...

Um, yeah, today is He Blogs, She Blogs.

I gloated and got all cocky cause I actually got my post done first this week, and then ruined it all by forgetting to put up this little reminder post on my blog.

DOH!

Go read He Blogs, She Blogs, please, if you will, if you haven't already.

Thanks.

Sincerely,
The REAL Dumbass

Sex and The Suburbs is Here!

The day has come--Sex and The Suburbs, my weekly column at Sexis Magazine, has finally been launched!

Go forth, read and enjoy!

Random Tuesday Thoughts: Don't Hate Me Cause I Suck

It's Tuesday people. You know what that means. Occasionally, on Tuesdays, I like to participate in a little thing called Random Tuesday Thoughts, hosted by Keely over at The Un-Mom and Kelly at Baby Boogers. Lately I have been slacking big time, but I swear I am trying to get my shit together. But there's a lot of shit, so be patient with me.

First of all, I apologize for being such a suck-tastic blogging friend and not visiting anyone's blogs, but literally, it is like my life has imploded and I just can't seem to stuff it all back into it's proper place so that I can efficiently manage my time. Seriously, I feel like I am always two steps behind, and by the time I get to 9 or 10 o'clock in the evening, I am beyond the point of catching up and I am forced to just pass out from sheer exhaustion. I am not being dramatic here people. OK, maybe I am being a little dramatic, but it's warranted, I promise.

Tomorrow my column, Sex and The Suburbs, starts over at SexIs Magazine! I am pretty stoked, but I am also terrified that it is going to bomb and nobody is going to read it and when you go there you will hear crickets from the lack of interest. So if you like me even a little bit, PLEASE go and read it. And tell your friends too, the more the merrier. I am still looking for lots of moms to contribute so spread the word! Hopefully you won't be disappointed, and you won't have to send me a courtesy e-mail lying to me about how you really enjoyed reading it. Fingers crossed.

So I am still sick. And I still can't see out of my right eye. Plus, I am getting really tired of complaining about it. So that's all I am going to say about that.

Blogger has really been pissing me off lately. I had the video of Sasha Baron Cohen as Bruno's ass falling on Eminem's face for you because it is hilarious, but somehow I can't paste the code into the post without deleting all the rest of the text. So, go to youtube and search for "Bruno MTV Movie Awards" and watch it. Cause it will make you laugh till you snort. Unless you have no sense of humor.

Happy Random Tuesday!