The Posse Code Has Been Compromised

An Open Confession to My Posse: I Blew It Big Time Today and May Have Ruined All Our Fun for the Near Future.

Just Thought You Should Know.

It went down like this: It was my turn to drive carpool. I was running a bit late. Not terribly late. Just a bit. Then I got absorbed in the newspaper, reading about Joachim Phoenix and pondering if he will shave that beard. I worry about him lately, because he seems like a good guy, going a bit haywire. Sort of like how I used to worry so much about Robert Downey Jr., but he seems to have pulled it together. And I don't know why I care about some actors and others just annoy me, I'm Looking At You, Russell Crowe, and Oh my GAH Suddenly I was WAY late for carpool.

Most people would be like, just throw on some sweats and forget the shower but I couldn't do that. Because that particular day was Maintenance Day. Meaning the night before I had massaged a cup of olive oil into my head and slept in it because my hair and scalp are very dry in this weather. And my skin is a wreck so I had a green mud pack on my face. And oh yeah that whole whisker issue? I had a bleach kit on my upper lip.

Go ahead and make fun of me if you want but I am almost 40 and it takes an awful lot of work to look this mediocre, so back off!

So you see – greased up head, green face, mustache bleach: I had no choice. I couldn’t skip the shower. AND I had to get toddler dressed but he had peed on the floor. And I had to pack up the preschooler but I forgot she was supposed to bring 22 Valentines to class that day. And on the road to carpool pickup, I realized the car was running on fumes and I – naturally – had forgotten my purse.

I wasn't worried. The child I was going to pickup belonged to someone in my Posse. I can count on My Posse for help. My Posse won’t judge me. They might mock me, so like, next time I see this one she will say something like, “Well look who remembered to put on her eyebrows today and even wear a bra!!” But she’d never judge me.

That’s what makes a Posse.

You see, having a posse is only partly about having companionship. It is also about having a team of experts to aid and abet your insanity. Competent babysitters for your children when you are having a meltdown and fear for everyone’s lives. Capable hands who can open the bag of Oreos when you are crying too hard to do it yourself.

All my posse is right now saying, “Mmm hmmmm, I hear ya, girl. Been there, done that, got the tattoos to prove it….”

Here are some examples of Posse Speak:

1. “Crap, I just set my hair on fire – can you watch the kids for a few minutes?’

2. “One of my boyfriends found out about my husband. I need you to bail me out of jail.”

3. “I just ate six bowls of carbonara and I think I might barf. Can you take my kid to karate class?”

4. “The dishwasher exploded – can I come over and eat all the chocolate in your house?”

5. “I think I just painted my entire house in Compost. Do you have any wine?”

6. “I just accidentally made 47 jars of kumquat marmalade. Will you take some?”

That’s how all women choose their Posse – would she say an immediate and enthusiastic YES!! to all of the above questions? Then she's part of the Posse.

But you know – we have The Posse Code of Silence. Which is as follows: We Can Have All the Fun We Want But Pull Your Shit Together Before The Husbands Get Home.

So let’s get back to that morning, because this is the part of the story where it gets really bad.

My Posse Girl wasn’t home. Her husband was home.

I arrived to pickup his daughter looking slightly, shall we say, disheveled, and needing to borrow gas money.

And of course he looked at me with tremendous pity and gave me the money, 'cuz he’s a nice guy, but I felt crushed. Because I knew I had broken the Code. We just can’t let our husbands see THE CRAZY. Nothing good can come of it.

Naturally, I spent the morning overcompensating like a maniac, in order to get back in that Posse Husband’s good graces. It is VITAL to stay in Posse Husbands’ good graces at all times. Otherwise, they don’t let us hang out together anymore. I re-fixed my hair, put on jewelry, makeup AND perfume, ironed my clothes, and found matching socks. I was determined that when he next saw me, I would look so poised that Posse Husband would not only think I was the model of competence, he might even doubt his own sanity a bit.

“Would you look at Julie? She is so put together. She is so efficient and calm and mature and and so deeply intellectual. I must have been on crack this morning when I thought she was an alien possessed by the devil. I’m so glad she’s friends with my wife. I think I will encourage them to take a spa vacation on my credit card.”

But of course, it never works that way. Posse Husband wasn't even there when I returned in the afternoon. I had to pay back the money and apologize to my Posse Girl for potentially screwing up our entire way of life. Then I hung my head in shame because DAMMIT! I know better! and went home to my Oreos.

And please people even though this is a funny post I am seriously worried about Joaquin Phoenix because

Oh This Was Painful.

It's a Party - Because Life's Funny Like That

Who's in the mood for a party? Anyone?

I am. And I want y'all to join me. Here's the gig:

Debby writes a blog called Life's Funny Like That. She is much more thoughtful, intelligent, and introspective than a lot of other bloggers. Well, ME, mostly. I like to lurk about her blog and read about her perspective on life, and imagine that she and I would be friends. Even though she is so thoughtful, intelligent and introspective and I write a silly Time-Suck of a blog and talk about chocolate and mascara.

Today is a significant day for Debby.

Oh sure, you might not think February 19, 2009 is a big deal. You're probably just going about your routine. That's what I'm doing today - going about my average, dull routine.

But February 19, 2009 is a HUGE deal for Debby. Today she is having her last chemo treatment. And that is a very, very big deal.

Bush Babe had a fantastic suggestion - let's throw her an online "Life's Funny" party, and add to the laughter of the day. Since I am ALWAYS willing to join a party - especially a party that involves hilarity - I raised my hand immediately.

Here is my contribution to the fun: the Youtube Video called "Charlie Bit My Finger". I see that it has been watched nearly 82 million times, and I guarantee that at least 80 million of those viewings have come from my family. We think these kids are a riot.

AND TO YOU, DEBBY - I THINK YOU ARE AWESOME!

Laugh it up girlfriend. No one deserves it more today!

oxo

Free Stuff is Fun

There is a pretty cool giveaway going on right now at Sweet Irie Originals ... go check it out.

If you win, I hope you'll share some of those goodies with me.

At Least We'll Never Get Scurvy

Two years ago, I planted a kumquat tree for my son. Kumquats, in case you don't know (and why would you??) are little bitty citrus fruit that taste just exactly like satan. You pop the whole thing in your mouth - peel and all - and eat it. The peel tastes like orange, and the inside tastes like a very sour lemon.

In other words: nasty.

But my son likes them, so I planted it. I'm kind of a saint.

Little did I know, the kumquat tree would eventually DESTROY US ALL ESPECIALLY MY SANITY.

Being a frugal woman who does not waste anything - even fruit that tastes like nasty - I decided to pick the kumquats and make stuff.

Look. Here's what 10 pounds of kumquats look like.

You've probably always wanted to know, haven't you?

I scanned the internet and immediately disregarded all recipes that required peeling and/or seeding these little buggers because ... puh-leez.

I'm a saint but I'm not a lunatic.

It started with pickled kumquats.

I think pickled kumquats are going to taste just exactly as good as they look, don't you?

Next I made chutney.

Chutney. For the love of pete. Chutney.

As if there is not enough evil in this world already.

Then I started on marmalade.

I hate marmalade. I hate the peels inside, I hate the texture, I hate it.

But I chose this recipe because it called for several pounds of kumquats, and I had quick-time realized that I needed to make some serious progress in this mound 'o' kumquats.

Please note that to make kumquats remotely palatable, you must add SIX TIMES the amount of sugar to the fruit.

Looks purdy, though, doesn't it?

All stacked up there, jars by the dozen?

I picked another 10 pound bowl, and decided to try candied kumquats.

Unfortunately candied kumquats does not mean dipped in loads of chocolate and take out the kumquat to make it taste decent.

It just means kumquats boiled in a mess of sugar for hours.

Still tastes like satan.

It even killed my chicken. She eats anything.

Oooh, look. Candied kumquats.

Those will go perfectly with the marmalade. And the chutney. And the pickles.

Mmmm.

By now I was sick of making stuff. I set aside a bowl for the boy to eat. Which of course, he did not. Because... gah. He likes one or two, but who can eat this many??

Then I put a bunch in a vase to look all Martha Stewart.

Lovely.

Look at how hard I worked.

Am I not the most productive hausfrau you ever met?When Charming got home that night, he found a fridge stocked with kumquat products.

Right now you are thinking Charming is SUCH a lucky man!!

Feel free to come over and take as many as you want off the tree.

Limit one thousand kumquats per person.

Because after all that kumquat cooking, that forking tree still looks like this.

52 Graces - Special Edition

#7 - Sandy, the Milwaukee Cupcake Queen

and my Old Partner in Duran Duran Crime.

Dear Sandy,

I hope you have a great 40th birthday. I wish I could be there to celebrate with you. We could wait in line for six hours to meet Patrick Swayze and then scream when he kissed us on the cheek.

SO TOTALLY BITCHEN!

Girlfriend - you could not be more fun.

That's us, with squids hanging out of our mouths. It was funny at the time.

And you simply could not be more CRAZY talented.

{POP} Did you hear that? That's a bottle of champagne, I just popped it open to celebrate the fact that you are FORTY and FABULOUS and I love you!

Golly it's fun to have champagne so early in the morning. Who else is having a birthday today??

Hey Bloggy friends - do me a solid - go over to Sandy's blog and wish her a very happy birthday, will you? Old people just want to be loved...

52 Graces

#6 - Charming

Well, naturally Charming is the number One Thing I am thankful for, he's the First Dude around here, My Main Squeeze, The BMOC, Mr. Hot Stuff, and All Around Good Guy.

But he is also stinkin' funny.

Even when - especially when - I need to be taken down a peg.

Example: Yesterday

His eyebrows furrowed a bit as he stared at my face.

"Is that the whisker you were talking about?"

"No I plucked that whisker."

"Oh."

"Wait. WHY????"

"Nothing."

Want to meet some other grateful people?
Go check out Naomi and Deb and Beth and Chellie and Terese and Tracy.

It's never to late to join us!

Drop me a note at blahblahblog(at)cox(dot)net

How To Be Housebound on a Rainy Day. In Ten Easy Steps.

1. Play Tea Party. Pretend the tea is too hot. Watch the toddler laugh hysterically. Repeat 400 times. You'd think he'd learn to make better tea.

2. Do puzzles. Every puzzle in the house. Be amazed that the genius toddler can do puzzles all by himself. Only not really all by himself as he insists that you watch him every single time. For two hours. His level of genius ceases to be amazing after the first hour. Geniuses shouldn't be so needy.

3. Play Legos. After you have built your third Lego tower (Ooh look! This one's all blue!), note that your Lego building capabilities are pretty much exhausted. Fortunately, unlike the 11 year old who expects you to build the Millenium Falcon, the toddler pretty much just wants to throw the Legos at the window. Because you are exhausted, you let him.
4. Play bowling. Consider joining a convent. A cloistered convent.

5. Notice a giant black whisker growing out of your chin. Spend the rest of the afternoon obsessively picking at it. Realize that turning 40 is actually a euphemism for turning into a man.

6. Make a lentil stew for dinner. Decide it is a compliment when your eldest claims that you make the "worst looking, best tasting food in the whole world." Agree that this lentil stew is indeed a candidate for the world's fugliest food.

But it was warm and tasty on a cold night, so just eat with your eyes closed.

7. Make a YUMMY Black Pepper and Rosemary Soda Bread to go with it. Only sort of fugly. Still Delish.

8. Play Monkeys.
9. Teach Monkeys to play guitar.

10. Go to bed wondering how Charming is going to feel about having a Man-Wife.