The Drug Called Fame

I'm not famous. You probably already knew that, didn't you? I just had to throw that out there so that there was no misconceptions about me. I am a housewife. Though when I put it that way...it's spookily reminds me of the 1950's and the feminist in me sort of shudders. But that's ok. I can deal it with it. Deep down I'm really proud of the job I do as a wife and mother. To stop shuddering, I like to say that I'm the C.E.O. of this entire household. Woot! Sounds important that way, doesn't it?

Anyhow, I'm not a celebrity, in any fashion. Anonymity...thy name is Jules. However, when I think about fame, famous people, celebrities, and the like....I start to wonder what happened to them. Why so many have turned into such train wrecks, personally, publicly, and often...stylistically. It saddens me that so many people would yearn for that lifestyle. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd want it.

There was a time when I was supremely sure that I did, but as I get older, and hopefully wiser, I realize that I don't want fame as much as I just want oodles and oodles of money. Just kidding...well, sort of kidding. The money to do what you want would be great, the fame....not looking so great.

So then it leaves me to wonder why in the world someone like Sarah Palin's daughter's ex-fiance Levi would even consider a book deal or "pursuing acting". Is he insane? Does he really want to go down in infamy as that guy? Why not settle into a life with less fame, and therefore, less judgement?

Didn't anyone ever tell him the old adage about people living in glass houses? It's not as if he won't be scrutinized for this, and every other thing that he may or may not have done wrong since his birth. He cannot cast stones in that glass house without the glass falling on his head. Even if he was a prince, a perfect specimen of a gentleman, why seek out fame....to subject himself to public scrutiny for later mistakes? Even things as silly as dressing poorly. Come on Levi!!! Have some common sense.

Be smarter than the average celebrity wannabe! Go to college, have a career, and make some serious bank the old fashioned way....hard work. Then, when you're all grown up (truly grown up) if you still want a book deal, great. More power to you. Or, better yet. Write your own story. Fame is a drug, my friend. It's addictive, and truly bad for your health.

Look at all the examples of fame going to people's heads:
Mariah Carey
Lindsay Lohan
Tommy Lee
Paris Hilton
Mike Tyson
Heath Ledger
Joaquin Phoenix
Charlie Sheen
Brittany Spears
The Octo Mom
Heidi Montag & Spencer "What's His Name"

Hopefully you get the point! And this is a very small list...considering that most famous people have had moments of craziness. You could name just about any celebrity and think back to a moment that they'll never live down, because it was probably caught on 3,000 pictures. An excellent example...Julia Roberts. She has always seemed to handle the fame very, very well but if you watch TMZ, they say she's only nice to the press when she's promoting a new movie. Well, that's pretty bitchy of her. And I love her movies...so what is that? Then there was that moment where she went on an award show with unshaven armpits.

You'd think there would be someone in her presence that said, "Wait, whoa Jules, you need to shave your pits or the press will fry you up and serve you with chips." But no...on she went, unshaven, and ended up looking like a very beautiful monkey. Sad. The drug known as fame went right to her head. It blinded her to the fact that most women think long armpit hair is beyond icky, and that most men don't like their women hairy. Unless it's on their head. I shave even on days when I'm not leaving the house. And she had the stupidity to go on national television with hairy armpits? That is just wrong...in so many ways. Sad, and wrong.

So, Levi, I hope you opt to turn down the book deal. Instead of becoming a fame addicted moron...why not do something really great with your life. Maybe start with being the best dad you can be, and go from there. But then, what do I know?

Have a nice day!

Catching Up

I took the day off yesterday...from blogging that is. The Tire Guy was home and it seemed appropriate to just hang with the family. I didn't technically take the day off, considering that my days, everyday, consists of things like making beds, doing laundry, and meal preparation.

I mowed the lawn, and discovered that our lawn mower has one foot in the grave. I was very disappointed in it. Where is its' will to live? I don't want to spend more money on a new lawn mower, I would rather buy new bath towels and Oreo cookies. Well, I would. I would rather go shoe shopping, and buy Little Man a new pool float. Well, it's true. A lawn mower? Ugh! Now I suppose we could take it somewhere and have it repaired for cheaper than the cost of a new one, but that's just not how we roll. We figure one repair will turn into twenty and pretty soon we'll be wishing we'd just bought a new one. Give me my financial death in one big chunk. Being nickel and dimed to death is a terrible way to go.

I made homemade french fries yesterday. I'm partial to them. I used to buy the bags of frozen french fries and either deep fry them or bake them....but there is nothing quite so good and greasy and salty as homemade french fries from real potatoes that have never been frozen. It's a thing, what can I say?

Today, just like yesterday, and the day before that and the day before that, there are construction workers busy constructing, and building and digging and planting, and chopping, and hacking, and driving, and well...you see what I mean. They are building quite a large fence behind the houses on this side of the property for the school that will be opening in the Fall. As they are fencing, they are quite close to our property line. At this point you'd think I would be on a first name basis with most of them...but I'm not. I'm not a snob, but unfortunately, I do not speak the language of many of them, and well....ok, here's the thing, between you and me....sometimes when I talk to men I end up giving the wrong impression. It's completely unintentional, but I've learned over time that my reputation is better off if I just keep my head down and ignore the sideways glances I get. Dark glasses help.

Little Man doesn't seem to understand this concept. Nor, should he. He talks to all the guys that are within earshot. ALL of them. He has told me repeatedly that he'd like to go work with them. I think someday he'll change his mind about that, but until then, I quietly apologize for his constant pestering of them, and tell Little Man that he has to be over the age of 18 before he can be a construction worker. He's counting the days.

My friend K found a pair of leg warmers for me to wear to the 80's party that was held on the 4th of July. They are very Rainbow Brite inspired. Though they were meant to be part of a costume, I'm loving them. I'm really loving them. I may never take them off. I've been wearing them a lot since the party. This is how I was about them the first time they were popular. I may need an intervention soon. Someone please tell me when I've gone too far. If you see me with big hair, leg warmers and a sweatshirt with the neck cut out of it...please alert the authorities. Thank you.

One final note for today....a man came to the door recently. He was trying to promote his lawn care business. Now, because I'm the kind hearted person that I am, I opened the door, listened to his schpeel, and took his flier. As I shut the door, I let out the breath I'd been trying to hold. This man had the worst case of perio breath I'd ever had the unfortunate luck of smelling. I should mention that I worked in the dental field in some capacity for 10 years prior to moving to Utah. For those who don't know, or haven't had the experience, perio breath is a term we use for someone whose mouth is plagued by periodontal disease. Imagine the worst smell you can think of and then double it....possibly triple it. It's right up there with a gut shot deer. It might be worse. It's a toss up.

At least I think he was trying to promote his lawn care business. It was hard to tell, I was distracted by the horrible stench in the air. No, really. Now, this might sound harsh of me, but really, I had compassion for this troubled man. I could think of nothing but plopping his stinky butt in a dental chair and getting him the help he needs. Dental care is very expensive, I know....but what is the expense to his business? How many potential customers has he lost because of this issue. An issue that is fixable, by the way.

Here's the most accurate test I've ever known to find out if you have bad breath. Ready? Well, sorry, I'm telling you anyways. Lick the palm of your hand...give it a second or two, then smell. Now, after everyone goes and brushes their teeth...lol...I'll hopefully see you all back here tomorrow. Life is hard man, why face it with bad breath.

Chocolate, roses, Obsession for Men....there...think about those things. I don't want the last thought I leave you with to be so unpleasant.

Have a nice day.

A Restless Spirit

I willingly admit to having a restless spirit. I picture myself having adventures like those of Indiana Jones, and Lara Croft. I may be a grown up, but in my head I'm an adventurer, a dreamer, a child, an explorer. Someone living on the edge and loving it. That may sound a bit crazy. I don't care. It's the truth.

I have a great life. I have an incredible family, a comfortable home and food to eat whenever I'm hungry. I think it's because of my lifestyle that I'm able to fantasize about wild adventures. I've never been someone who is satisfied with the status quo. Bigger, better, more....that's what I want. It's not that I'm not grateful for what I have. I'm grateful. I know there are many, many people throughout the world that would give anything for the luxuries of my life. People living without a home, without enough food, without clean water. I am blessed, and I know it.

But even then, I shouldn't be satisfied. Should I? I think when you stop dreaming, you stop living. I want to travel through Africa on the back of an elephant. I want to see the annual wildebeest migration aloft in a hot air balloon. I want to conquer my fear of the water and go scuba diving. I want to sleep in a tent in the jungle and hear the sounds of "the world all around". (Yes, yes, I stole that from Where The Wild Things Are.)

I've been asked how I can be so restless and not feel like exploding, but I think it helps to have a great imagination, to keep dreaming, and to know that I can do whatever I want in this world, if only I put my mind to it. Hard work and determination can achieve anything.

Maybe I am a dreamer. So what? There should be more dreamers. More people who won't ever give up on what they want. It might not be tomorrow when I get to see The Pyramids, or ride in a helicopter, or drink myself silly in a pub in Ireland, but I know it will be someday. I don't explode because I know there are adventures to be had. The fun part is not knowing how or when they will occur.

Have a great day!

Endurance

This weekend we partied like it was 1985. Well, sort of. There was a lot of really big hair. There was a lot on neon. Belted shirts. Mini skirts. Leg warmers. If you drove down my street at around 7 p.m. on the 4th of July it looked as if 1985 had thrown up on most of us.

Though, add humidity, uncomfortable shoes, and a lot of alcohol and pretty soon the 80's went quickly out of style...again. Replaced by flip flops, comfy shorts and weather flattened hair. Totally worth it though. It was fun to jump back into the 80's for a bit. It occurs to me now why it took me so long to get a boyfriend though. Big hair with tons of hairspray is just a bad look. What were we thinking?

I am from a small town, and as I think about it, it seemed like the smaller the town, the taller the bangs. Ugh! I'm happy to never look at hairspray again. There was so much hairspray in my hair that I was a scared to hold a sparkler. I certainly couldn't be in charge of lighting any fireworks. I wasn't alone either, most of the women at the party had hair that could have easily ended up on the evening news.

I think next year we need to pick a theme with less combustible material. The 70's maybe? After the late night of partying on Saturday, The Tire Guy made breakfast the next morning for our friends that stayed over, then we took Little Man to Lagoon (the amusement park).

This weekend has now ended up feeling akin to a marathon. It takes endurance. Endurance to make pot luck foods. Endurance to dress up like it's the 1980's. Endurance to drink buckets of alcohol, consume mountains of food, and still be coherent enough to hold conversations with friends and a few complete strangers. Endurance to get up before noon the next day and go to a theme park. Endurance to not fall over in a heap while watching your son on the bumper cars. Endurance to not go into a coma while getting a mountain of water dumped on your head on the Rattlesnake Rapids (it's a ride). Endurance to come home and help put together a basketball hoop with horrible instructions in the blazing heat of the day.

Apparently, we (TTG and I) have excellent endurance. But now, if someone could please call an ambulance....I'm sore, and tired, and sore, and tired, and did I mention....sore? Well, anyhow...it may be a few days before I'm 100%.

Computers, Shopping, Mud and Bars

We took the new computer back. It only took all day yesterday to return it...though, that is technically my fault. I'm not very demanding with people like that. The Geek Squad wanted to see if they could fix the problem, so.....I let them try. Then I went shopping. Not in Best Buy....no way. I needed some real retail therapy.

Little Man and I wandered down the sidewalk to a store where everything is priced at $5.99. Sweatshirts...$5.99 Pants...$5.99 Shoes...$5.99 Swimwear....$5.99 Well, you get the idea. I bought Little Man a pair of Eddie Bauer shorts there for.....(don't worry....I won't say it again.)

Then we wandered a bit further into Target. I am on a hunt for leg warmers. Now, some of you may be thinking "what in the heck are leg warmers"....and some of you may be thinking "why in the world would you want leg warmers in the summer"....but for the 4th of July we are having our 3rd Annual Block Party and this years' theme is Totally Rad 80's. I think I've mentioned this before. Hence, the leg warmers. Though I have an unfortunate feeling that Mother Nature is going to literally rain on our parade. We'll see. You know that when I was a child.....in the 80's.....I had a pair of pink fuzzy leg warmers that I wore just about every day. I know, I know, but I wasn't the only one to jump on that trend. I blame Flashdance....a movie that, to this day....I still love. The dancing, the ripped jeans, the cut sweatshirt. The one movie that inspired perms in girls throughout the nation.

Back then, a friend of mine from school and I took a sewing class together...but instead of sewing....we spent hours in her room cutting just the right angle into our sweatshirts....ripping our jeans in just the right places. It was a thing...what can I say?

Yesterday it rained....not just any rain...but monsoon type rain. In the middle of the storm, I noticed that our stairwell wasn't draining very fast....so I took my umbrella, and a plunger outside to "fix" the problem. Worked like a charm. Makes me wonder if I wasn't a very skilled, possibly overweight, plumber man in another lifetime. Could happen!

I was really tempted to just go stand out in the rain. If I was any crazier....I probably would have. I didn't want to inspire lunacy in my son. It's just that, rain, that kind of rain where you get drenched in a matter of minutes is so, so, heck, I don't know....there is a word for it....it's just not coming to me. I like the rain, in moments like that, it feels very unreal, like living your life on a movie screen. Like in the movie, Blast From The Past. He's never seen rain before, so when he does, he's awed by it. I kind of get that. Well.....I do.

The rain created a lake behind our house. The area that is supposed to drain the school yard, instead filled up to the full mark. I could have jet skied on it....no joke. It was freakin' incredible. Except, the mud. They haven't put in grass back there yet. They are still building fences and leveling dirt, so the lake was Mud Lake. For those of you who are just joining us, they are building a school in the field behind our house. To be opened this Fall.....so the construction crew has massive amounts of work to accomplish. As to not distract them further, I've refrained from spending too much time in my backyard in my swimsuit. I'm courteous like that. LOL

Mud Lake didn't last long and today...all that remains is....mud. If this took place in Nevada, I would probably be inspired to produce a mud wrestling demonstration and make some serious bank. However, we are still in Utah where things like that go over like a lead balloon. Good news in regards to Utah, they have opened up bars and pubs. Which means, prior to this change, they were all required to be private clubs for members. You had to buy a membership to enter a bar. Now....you don't. Many are celebrating. Here is a sad fact about me....I've lived in Utah over three years and have only been into a bar here...one time. Once. Weird.

The bar we went to was called the Lazy Dog Saloon. Otherwise known as the LDS. Do what you will with that, but I think it's hilarious....and totally intentional.

I've been officially purged for the day. The caffeine is kicking in nicely and I have much to do. I'm still on the hunt for leg warmers. Target didn't have any. What is wrong with stores these days?

Have a nice day.

Out Of My Comfort Zone

I am out of my comfort zone....and as much as I like this new computer....I still feel weird...like I just don't know what the heck I'm doing. Yes, we got a new computer. The monitor is HUGE. The default picture of me is HUGE. It's not quite Times Square huge...but close. It's really quite a surreal experience. I'm sure it won't take long and I'll figure it out nicely, but for now...well...I feel like a fish out of water.

I wasn't brilliant enough to use my time wisely yesterday writing down logins and passwords...so today there are some programs that I can't even remember how to get into. Not yet. Not until I put my thinking cap on and the caffeine starts kicking in.

All of my pictures are on the other computer and I didn't back those up to a disk yet....just another thing to do before the "old" computer finds a home in the basement somewhere next to Christmas decorations and boxes of whatnot.

What is whatnot you ask? Ok, so I know you didn't ask, but have you ever thought about how much "stuff" we keep simply for the sake of keeping? Stuff that we'll never even look at again. Stuff that collects dust and makes a nice home for the occasional mouse. No, I do not have any mice...that I know of...but you get my point. Our basement, a few drawers and the bulk of our garage falls into that category. The junk drawer. The junk floor. The junk garage. Not everything mind you, but a lot of it....and we aren't even the pack rat types. Can you imagine if we were?

Have you seen those shows where people are truly pack rats? There is a name for it, but I can't think of it. Hoarding. Aha!!! That's it. Where they have kept so much stuff that they don't even realize that their dog has been relieving himself on their bed for weeks on end. No really. If you haven't seen this sort of thing, then you must have a life at 4 p.m. when Oprah comes on. I, however, do not....so I get to learn all about the life of hoarders. Truth be told, they have no life at all. It's almost as if, had they been left to their own devices, eventually they would turn into The Trash Heap. You know, from Fraggle Rock?! Or am I the only one who watched that show as a child?

I joke, but those people have serious problems. Even talking about it makes me want to get my rear in gear and start purging this house. I plan on having a yard sale this summer, so I will be purged...ON WAY OR ANOTHER!! Anything that doesn't get sold is getting donated or s***-canned. I don't want to end up on Oprah...not for that. Heck, if I'm going to be on Oprah it better be for something good...like, Jules, she just designed a line of fabulous handbags, or shoes. That would be ok! Actually, that would be the BOMB-DIGGETY!

Anyhow, back to reality and the reality is that I can understand why there are people out there drowning in paperwork, containers, and crap. It's because there is just so much of it. It makes me wonder if this sort of thing didn't happen nearly so much in my Grammy's time? They kept what they could out of necessity, but there wasn't much to be had. If my grandma reused scraps of tinfoil, it wasn't because her basement was filled with a giant tinfoil ball, it was because they couldn't afford to buy more. Less to be had in general, therefore; less to drown in.

I blame the manufacturers of goods. I do. Must they really include all the stuff that they include when you buy something. If they want to include something really helpful, then they should label everything as follows:

Red Labels....keep this at all cost....you will need it. For instance, things like receipts so that you may easily return this P.O.S. to the store when it breaks down and it will break down. It's only a matter of time. Otherwise how will they get you to eventually buy something else? I envision C.E.O. masterminds rubbing their hands together and laughing, "bwahahahahaha".

Yellow Labels...keep this only if you have raging OCD and think that neatly filed papers are your ticket into heaven. (Yes, I'm poking fun at myself and others like me.)

Blue Labels...throw this out...no, really...throw it out. I mean it....you'll never need it, you'll never even think about it, and they only included it because they like to see how many trees they can kill per day for useless crap.

Well, that's all for now. I have to go figure out how to get back into my YouTube account so that I can post videos on my blog. This is important stuff, man.

Have a nice day.

The Drummer In A Rock Band

By now we've all heard of Guitar Hero....and so most have probably heard of Rock Band. When I was first becoming interested in boys...really interested....I had a fascination with drummers. Boys who walked around town with a pair of drumsticks in their back pocket. Boys who practiced drumming on stair railings, walls and all other stationary objects. To this day, drummers make me a bit giddy. I can't nail down exactly what it is though...but there is just something about them. Talent, maybe....because I know I don't have it.

Do you remember the movie Drumline? With Mr. Mariah Carey..Nick Cannon? I'm not a fan of Nick Cannon, but even he caused a spark in me with all the drumming going on in that movie. I have always dreamed of going to Africa, but I don't just want a pre-packaged Safari....I want earthy, tribal drumming to be the lullaby I hear at night. No...really....I do. If I were to travel to the Caribbean...another destination I dream of seeing....I would hope and expect to hear steel drums. You see a pattern here?

So anyway, on Sunday we went into Best Buy to look at computers, and I like to drool on the cool LG refrigerator with the television in the door. While we were browsing, Little Man got distracted by the drum set that goes to Rock Band. Actually, distracted is the wrong word....obsessed might be more accurate. If I didn't have to worry about abduction, I could have left for a good long time and come back to find him, in that very spot....aspiring to be a drummer. That's my boy.

Now you may be thinking, "Ha!..Jules, you don't want him to be a drummer..it would be so loud, and annoying." But I happily respond..."that would make it no different than it is now." Except that I like the sound of drums....I really, really do. It was so cute...my little drummer boy. Also, a favorite Christmas song. So there.

Yes, yes...be careful what you wish for, but it would totally make this mama happy if my son ended up a drummer in a rock band. I'm just sayin'.