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contemplated throwing a dish at her husband just a scant hour ago but realized that she liked the diView blogsh too much for that.

Top Dog

I can never play that game.

The one where you are watching tv and one person says "Oh my god, is that...what's his name? What is his NAME. He was in that Tom Cruise movie, you know the one with, argh, not Rebecca Demourney but the 80s one, with the pilots. Oh god he's in everything. Remember? Picket Fences? He was the sheriff??"

I'm awful. I don't watch enough movies, didn't have a tv for a bunch of years, just can't place people.

Until tonight.
Tonight I was masterful.
I was genius.

I was sitting on the floor, thinking about blogging, tired, with access to the remote.

I put on Bewitched, Darrin Goes Ape, the episode where Samantha's evil cousin Serena turns that prick Dick Sargent into an ape. (Also the one where her 2 year old tv son is seen riding shotgun, unbelted in her Chevy convertable.)

Of course Mrs. Kravitz calls the cops, the cops come out, I squint and the thinner cop looks like the guy from Adam 12, the cops call the guys from Jimmie's Ape Emporium, resplendent in full safari gear and the guys come out, catch Darren, and comedic mayhem ensues.

And as I'm listening I think to myself "My god. That voice. That voice. The guy catching the ape sounds exactly like Officer Dibble."

From Top Cat.

A 30 episode Hanna Barbara cartoon circa 1961.

So, being the adventurous sort, I rewind the DVR, record the episode title, google the Bewitched episode guide, find the cast list, look UP the police officers, google their names, read several interesting and entertaining IMDB articles, a few wikipedia entries, peruse a few blogs, marvel at the fact that someone named Paul Yeager has recorded every car shown throughout the Bewitched series and ultimately, triumphantly, cross reference Allen Jenkins as the voice of both.

I don't know much, my friends, but I suspect somewhere in TVland is a little gold trophy with my name on it.

Deb = The Shit
March 2009

Status Update | Facebook | March 14, 2009

Just got back from Off Key Karaoke (we're not #1, we're just having fun) in a bar so deep in rural NY that her gps didn't recognize the hamlet she's sleeping in.


Reference: Visiting Jennie.

Holy How's Your Hot Husband?

I belong to several networking groups.
Call them a mommy groups, I don't care.
Three in particular.

Group One - Nice girls, married to nice guys, living nice lives.
Group Two - More nice girls married to nice guys, lives more complex.
Group Three: Holy shit. These husbands are crazy hot. Usually in one group of people there's one kindof hot husband and the rest are like, meh.
But seriously?
This group has hot husband after hot husband.
It's ridiculous.
And startling.

Thank god everyone's happily married because I could see a one hell of a Peyton Place.

I mean, they'd only let me as far as the front gate but I bet my husband could at least get an interview with the condo association.

Wishing I Knew More Losers

I continue to love the show The Biggest Loser. Seriously. I cry. These people amaze me. I want to go to the ranch. I want to meet Jillian. Bob. I want to cheer them on in person. I want to applaud from my seat.

I watch avidly.
It's not "just a game" "just a reality show".
It's inspiring.

And this year, this year they are adding so many morethings. Donating to food banks, meals with Rocco, training with Sugar Ray. These people, instead of being made to feel like "lazy American pigs" and recognized as real people, who've suffered with an addiction, and who are stronger for it. I think every person struggling - really struggling with their weight - deserves to be on this show. Deserves to have an experience like this.

I want my cousin to audition.
I think: If you had a chance to go to a ranch. To put yourself first. To sleep, to eat, to exercise and to make what looks like loving life long friends. If you had a chance after all these years of putting yourself last to put yourself first, to focus on yourself, why WOULDN'T you try?

It's not really something you could wish for someone else. Or suggest. And sure, I'll be embarrassed when Stacy and Clinton show up here with my $5000 visa so I understand the not wanting to be in the public eye portrayed as someone who "needs help".

But I see these people. Running with their kids. Crying for the years they've lost, weeping for the pain they've felt for themselves. And they work hard. And come alive. It's not a show about weight. It's a show about overcoming.

Imagine the possibilities.
Who doesn't owe it to themselves?

Let Me Ask You Something...

So a couple of weeks ago, I came across a series of interviews. I of course was too much of a wimp to truly participate in the great Interview Experiment of 09 - me blog's a wee boring - so I begged Ginny over at Praying To Darwin to hook me up with a few questions so I could b like all the other cool kids.

Ginny obliged and the rest is, well, about me.
harumph.

________________________________________
From: Praying to Darwin
Sent: Tuesday, March 03, 2009 12:49 AM
To: Bedrest Banshee
Subject: RE: Interview!

QUESTION ONE: Why did you start the blog? I know you started the blog while on bedrest, but WHY a blog, instead of, say, cross-stitch. Or a novel.

When I was hospitalized at around 22 weeks, the hospital had JUST gotten wireless internet. And I, coincidentally, had JUST got a laptop a scant two months ago. No longer working, and new to having a computer of my own, I didn't have a bunch of pages I visited, or games to play, or tunes to download. I only knew standard applications. And Word ie typing was one.

at the same time being on br was frustrating. Not for the reasons you'd think though. It wasn't being restricted in movement, although that had it's own challenges. It was frustrating coping with other people. There is this complete lack of privacy and you are forced into extremely intimate conversations, situations. Like, if someone says something you don't like and you are home, you can duck your head and wash a dish, or get busy offering coffee. But lying in bed? Your every movement is on display. If you have gas, if you are mad, if you want to cry - it's all wide open. Now add to that I had a few people in my life who just didn't observe the rules of common decency, or social etiquette. So in addition to being trapped in the open, I couldn't escape from their expectations of how I was supposed to behave either. If I wanted to be sad, I'd be told that "it wasn't good for me" If I was angry at a doctor, I was told to "Be patient" When I was scared I was dismissed as being nervous because Ellie was "my first". If I was happy, I was accused of not caring. I was asked if I was bored, if I "really wanted a baby all that much" and it got tiring being Polly Perfect all the time. Tiring being gracious and entertaining my visitors when I really wanted to be alone. I was also captive to a lot of really fucking boring bullshit in the name of keeping me entertained (what, I didn't have books?) So blogging was a way for me to express my reality.

QUESTION TWO: What's on your bedside table right now (don't lie)?
Likely nothing. After my daughter was born, we moved into the (far) smaller bedroom of our two bedroom house (as I like to say "we're only sleeping in there anyway" which doesn't say much for any extracurricular marital activity). Anyway - we have one narrow 3 drawer nightstand that nothing rests on it save for (1) annoyingly bright alarm clock set perpetually to 5:45am, (1) box of tissues because in our massive 1100sq ft house my husband feels compelled to have a box of tissues in every f*cking room so he doesn’t have to travel more then 8 feet to blow his nose and (1) wooden coaster for the omnipresent water glass. And that’s it. No lie.

QUESTION THREE: What's your oh-mah-god, would crawl over my own mother to get it, favorite food?
That would have to be vanilla frosting. Uninspired. Delectable. I met a guy on a plane once. We were flying back from LasVegas trying desperately to spark something, anything and the most compelling thing I can remember about him was that he adored lemon frosting. A six hour flight and we only had one damn thing in common.

QUESTION FOUR: One day, you wake up, and the baby and the husband never existed. What are you doing instead?
Hmmm. If they vanished and I had no memory of it but I had the strength and resources I have today? I suppose I’m working. Prior to this life I was an event planner. But truly my specialty was data. I designed interactive registrations and websites for events. I started to understand logic, people logic I mean, and what they respond to, and ultimately I’m sure I would have become a web architect. I’d still be living here, but further north, likely Maine. I’d be married likely, to someone maybe older, maybe with older kids, or none. We’d have pets and he’d be expressive, maybe an artist of sorts, but with words like a writer or a lawyer, not paintings or fiber arts. He’d be articulate, likely Jewish, his mother would dislike me. I’d be thinner, drink more, cook better. I’d play golf, but not tennis, paddling or kayaking. I'd paint more. Furniture, not walls.

I guess I’d be living a similar life to the one I lead now, but without a child, better at some things that require more attention. Although I have to say, I truly didn’t become happy, happy in my heart, happy away from my prior life and thoughts until the day I met my husband. Everything I’ve done has led me to this particular relationship and although I came to it late, I’d hope that had he never existed I would have found similar peace somewhere soon.

Now that I think about it, had he never existed I know exactly where I’d be today. And it would suck.

QUESTION FIVE: What's the best thing you get out of blogging? The worst?
The best thing used to be being able to say anything I want. Now I like the fact that it’s a living record of a time that otherwise I might not remember. Rereading posts actually evokes the feelings. I find I can go back to the time, and event. So that part I like. And finding other writers that I feel connected to.

The worst is knowing some of your readers and now having to edit so much of what I really feel, really want to talk about. I am also pretty upset that someone who reads my blog that I am not in a close personal relationship with has been reading apparently for quite sometime, lurking if you will, and recently lashed out at my sister for something that she, the reader, really should have addressed in a better way. So I’d like that particular reader to walk away.

QUESTION SIX: Have you ever shoplifted? If so, what?
Indeed I have. Not a lot. Maybe a $.05 peanut butter cup when I worked at the convenience store, which was outright stealing actually. Then there was the Renu lens rewetting drops in college (me and good ol' Pleather Kathy, we were so broke) and finally a pair of jeans at an unnamed store that I was trying on when the mall fire alarm went off. All those sounds, lights, noises. I just walked out of the store with them. After that, nothing. I started worrying about karma, ethics, morality and such.

QUESTION SEVEN: If you could take back one thing you said to another person, what would it be?
Honestly, nothing big really. I’ve never screamed “I wish you were dead” and had someone drop after. I’ve never said anything in anger that I wouldn’t have said normally. I think I only regret all the little STUPID things I’ve said. Like calling someone’s wife by the exwife’s name, like telling a story about someone then finding out I was completely wrong. Nothing truly serious. If fact, overall, I should have said more. Much more.

________________________________________

And that's it! Thanks to Ginny for her questions and if i can return the favor, or pay it forward so to speak, let me know. I'd be happy to Dr. Phil my way onto anyone's blog. I've got all SORTS of impertinent questions.

My New FBBFF'S

I finally joined FB, if not under duress at a minimum under deep suspicion, and today received seven friend requests from a social group I belong to. Seven. From a group I had not contacted in any way nor had I friended one of or crossfriended. I asked a - pun intended - mutual friend a variant of WTF and she informed me that my previously referenced we're like oil and water mix coleader of said social group sent out a message that I was on FB and to "friend me". Really? Thanks. Because, you know, I was completely confused on how to do it myself and I'm so glad you invited a bunch of people on my behalf and further for all you know I could be a charter member of ass fuckers anonymous so thanks for outing me and next time, mind our own, shall we?

Meanwhile - stalker much - how'd you know I was there, I joined oh a minute ago.

One, Two, Three, The Point's Elusive You'll See

My top three things I'd love to have more time to discuss but they don't warrant it:

ONE:
My child came home a completely different child then the one I dropped off. She was older, slightly dirtier, hair longer, with more words and tons more attitude.

TWO:
The blind guy never should have made it into the Top 12 on Idol.
"America Deaf for Blind Guy" News at 11

THREE:
I am on Day 6 of Jillian Micheal's 30 day shred and feeling good but not good enough to have eaten that mini ice cream sundae with the roll of Ritz cracker chaser I just finished.

Current Events, Pop Culture and Grandma

I just got off a 22 minute call with my fathers wife.
Or stepmother but that sounds so, well, Cinderella.

I called to ask after her job - she's in a realtors officed - and a 10 minute discourse ensues about her boss, what they should have done, shouldn't have done, how they treat her, how they should treat her, how they don't treat her.

It was painful.
I almost hung up.

But I stayed the course because, not only do I love her but it's really the right thing to do.

After a good - and by good I mean bad - 10 minutes she abrubtly switched gears.

"D'you watch The Bachelor" she quizzed agressively.
"Um, ah, well no but I've heard of it. I know there was the rose ceremony last night..." huh????

Which in and of itself is embarrassing to know. And cite.

"Well" she settled in. And on she went again, another 8 to 9 minutes of who did what to who, how many hours it was on, that she had never watched it nor would she ever again, except for tonight because she already put an hour into it, and did I KNOW that these girls acted like, well, she didn't know what in their tiny bikinis in hottubs?"

I assured her that I did understanfd the nature of the girls, but not the psychology.

"Well. All I can say is all they show is this guy with a different girls tongue down his throat every night and if I was that girl, after he's been kissing four others, well...haven't they ever heard of sloppy seconds?"

Which entirely changed the tenor of the conversation for me.
I was almost dissapointed that she had to hang up so soon.

Drinking and Driving

i think it's good to keep up with current news stories.

Where Oh Where Has My Baby Gone?

In as much as I'm happy, thrilled, that my inlaws have the wee one, it's reaching it's expiration date and I want my cherub home. Before her feet soften from being carried to and fro.

It's a funny thing. I don't miss her per se, I mean I'm reading books, doing my Shred, about to go up and organize the linen closets and basement bin a bunch of baby blankets. But it's time, you know? Time to have her home and for us to all be together.

Except.

Except it snowed and the roads are bad and my MIL said "What's one more day?" and for some reason I can't imagine one more day although I know it makes sense.

It's like being home from school when you aren't really sick.
Sure, we needed a break and off she went but break time is over, Hubby feels better, I've had my slothful day, and if she stays away any longer it's like I'm tempting fate.

So I want to force the issue and make them drive halfway.
But honestly.
The roads are bad.
And she's safe.
And happy.
And there's nothing to be gained by forcing her home. Or them.

So another day.
Hmm.

I hope she still remembers us.
Shit. After 5 days of being catered to, at this point, I hope still likes us.

What's The Story, Missus noGlory

You know, I'm not all bitchy gloom and doom. Taken in a vacuum, I tend to communicate only when annoyed, or venting. Although given the sheer number of posts, I'm not doing myself any good with that statement.

I think what I mean to say is that lately, oh say this last six months, the only time I'm moved to table a real task to write is when I seriously need to express, well, the unexpressable. But once it's written, I don't generally carry it around. But it occurs to me that if this were the only snapshot of my life, and admittedly, for some it is, then I come across rather acerbic, bitter and ...well...bitchy. Small too. And not in a slim slight way.

So in lieu of anything negative, here's what I'm going to mention.
A made up meme of 15 Not Super Interesting Things That Are Going On That I Fail To Mention Because I'm Too Busy Bitching

My husband and I get along pretty well. Lately we've been pretty disconnected though. Partially because my nephew has been here intermittently but moreso because (#1) he's had a pretty bad viral infection that has/had him snoring nightly. Normally I'd move into the spare bed in Ellie's room, but that bed is our temporary bed as (#2)ours was finally returned, for (#3) full cash credit to Costco after we reported it broken under the Sealy warranty. Thus I couldn't sleep in Ellie's room, or downstairs with Nephew on the couch. So...I've been sleeping on the floor. Not very conducive to marital bliss. The other night I stayed in bed, certain he had sleep apnea, waiting for him to stop breathing so I could rescue him. My love for him obviously stronger then my need to sleep.

Add to that, we've had too many long conversations lately about money, life plans and what to do next. We had (#4)a realtor come look at the house to see what it would bear in the current market. The good news? It's only depreciated about $20K. The bad? Her commission were we to sell it. So those conversations added to the lack of sleep? Well. We aren't exactly in a hurry to pursue (#5) the maybe baby. Which is still tabled. In case you were wondering.

But as luck would have it, that heinous bitch my mother in law forced me to (#6) give up my daughter for an extended stay at her house. Almost 5 full days to eat, sleep, read and hang out with each other for free in our home at our leisure. How dare she, right? I wouldn't trade her for her weight in gold....

Thus my husband and I had some time to spend alone ala the single days. And frankly, we were pretty boring single people. When we were a couple that is. When we were single SINGLE we were each, independently quite fun. But take out the alcohol and sex and pretty much you have two hard working people who (#7) did their taxes, (#8) read 4 cozy genre mysteries, (#9) went for a walk, (#10) did 3 days worth of Jillian Micheal's Shred (me not him) and watched (#11) Fun Fat Boy Run which we loved and a Dane Cook special which we both had already seen.

Because I had the free time, I also was incredibly low stress about (#12) going to my neighbors Southern Living Party which was surprisingly not a good time although perfectly hostessed and (#13) my girlfriends wedding shower which was surprisingly a really good time, also perfectly hostessed.

Sigh. And, of course, my husband, whom I DO adore, also had free time and went out and bought me two, count 'em two, HUGE treats! Yepper. Wildly exciting! One was (#14) a pair of Vibram Five Finger sneakers; the other (#15) a new optical mouse. So sick I was of the friggin track pad.

So to footnote:
1. Husband sick
2. Need a new bed
3. Costco has a good return policy
4. Might rent the house and buy a new one
5. No Maybe Baby in the works thx for asking
6. My MIL rocks (Can I still say rocks or does it date me?)
7. We're getting money back
8. I love to read
9. We could be fitter
10. I really could be fitter
11. Who knew Michael Ian Black wrote a screenplay
12. I bought a $17 cookbook for $32 but at least I had shrimp and wine - and found a preschool I liked
13. So I eloped, big deal
14. My sneakers ALSO rock
15. And this post was made easier thanks to the Microsoft Optical Mouse 3000. Thanks Husband!