I'm Hyperventilating Because...

Miley Cyrus, aka Hannah Montana, is coming to town!

For all the uninitiated, ie parents of toddlers, or parents of boys, or, well, parents of anything other than seven-year-old girls, Miley Cyrus (Billy Ray Cyrus's 14-year-old daughter -- remember Billy Ray? he of the Achy Breaky Heart?), plays Hannah Montana on the Disney Channel. Hannah Montana is a "Teen Pop Sensation," who's really klutzy teenager "Miley Stewart" in disguise, as she's determined to maintain her friendships and typical, average Malibu-beach-house lifestyle. By day she attends middle school, battles the mean girls, salivates over the local teen movie star, and fights with her older brother.

But by night -- she dons an elaborate disguise consisting of a blond wig and, well, that's it actually, to become:

Hannah Montana
Teen Pop Sensation

Now, as I may have mentioned, I am the parent of a seven-year-old girl, who will become possessed and ballistic when she learns that Hannah Montana is coming here in the fall. Therefore, in self defense, and also because I think Miley Cyrus is adorable and really can sing (acting, not so much), I will come very close to selling my soul for good seats to this concert. This, in turn, will ensure my elevation to Best Mom in the World status, at least until the glow from the concert has worn off, which by my calculations should happen approximately one week post-concert.

I'll take what I can get. Besides, it's better than a poke in the eye, or Disney Princesses on Ice.

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I Lost Everything in the Crash of 2007

That sickening feeling when you press every button and the computer taunts you with a feeble beep. It's the realization of that unspeakable dream about taking a final exam for which you haven't studied and furthermore you thought you'd withdrawn from the class long before the deadline, yet there you are -- hanging out to dry, twisting in the wind.

And you experience the five stages of grief:

1. No! No, this can't be happening! Where's all my stuff?!
   
2. Pleaseohpleasephplease make this fix itself and I vow promise swear I'll back up every fifteen minutes for the rest of my life
3. I hate you, you stupid computer! Hate you hate you hate you!!! Bam bam bam!!
4. Oy. I can't take this. I have to go to bed for a week. All my financial records have spontaneously combusted so I'm going to Leavenworth.
   
5. Maybe there's still something hiding in the hard drive.

So thank goodness for the Geek Squad, who in less than a week managed to retrieve all my lost information and return it to me unharmed, albeit hungry, dirty and frightened, in a nifty external hard drive: my belt. They also recommended I pick up suspenders: a tiny thumb drive about the size of my, uh, thumb.

But then the Geeks strongly insisted -- I mean suggested -- in their inimitable geeky way, that I also back up online because, well you never know if the Midwestern version of Katrina will come along and wipe everything out and then where would I be.

So I signed up with IBackup for a five gigabyte backup, which I hope will be enough, and I executed my first backup last night, and guess how long it took?

An hour? No -- more
Two hours? -- nope
Five hours? -- uh uh

Well, you can stop guessing because I can't even answer the question, since it's been backing up for, let's see now, 21 hours and 39 minutes and it still has 11% to go.

This seems to be the Energizer Bunny of online backups.


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Have You Tried This?

Cake batter ice cream from Coldstone. My son, who with his sister cultivates an annoying habit of choosing ice cream, smoothie and snow cone flavors he thinks I'll hate so he won't have to share with me (usually anything not involving chocolate), tried it yesterday and man! It was G*O*O*D. I come from a family that fights over who gets to lick the bowl containing remnants of any dough or batter, including pancake batter (my brother-in-law once inquired if possibly we'd grown up without a stove since we liked so many things raw), so this was a singular thrill. I've been fantasizing about it all day but next time I'll have to get my own, since I think Robespierre was afraid I might bite him if he didn't continue to share.

Besides, next time I'm pretty sure he'll return to bubble gum or cotton candy.

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It's SOO Hot...

...that some of us find ourselves at a loss for topics of bloggersation, so it's time to check in at the Yahoo! Answer Desk for some remarkably inane questions (and if anyone sees himself or herself here, I'm sorry):

"What football position is best for a small boy?"

How about Spectator?

"Why is phonetics spelt with a ph and not f?"

I love this one!!

"Why not use the X in Xmas for Christ in Christian, XIAN.?"

Well, why the heck not?

"How To become a famous actor?"

Climb up a tree and act like a nut.. no, wait, that's how to attract a squirrel

"When the telephone company gives out numbers do they go in order?"

What, like order of importance?

"Why doesn't water have a flavor?"

It does -- it tastes like chicken

"What are the tiny lumps at the back of my tongue?"

I don't know but I have those too. If you find out, drop me a line.

"I have just found my lost pet hamster in the freezer, it has gone hard and may be dead, what do i do?"

Oh my goodness

"Shud i get this hoodie? its $101.00?"

ummmm -- sure

"Why does Victoria Beckham think she is god when really she is just plain ugly and needs to eat a hamburger?"

hear, hear!

"Did anyone get one of them sony cameras that can see through clothing?"

Okay, that one just scares me

"Is Rory Sabbatini the ugliest man in golf?"

Does that make a difference?

"Why do banks charge a fee on "insufficient funds" when they know there is not enough?"

For the same reason you can only get a loan if you don't really need one

"Date a mermaid?"

ummmm

"Does anyone think that Britney Spears latest action is realy an indication of her having a mental problem?"

As opposed to all of her previously rational behavior?

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Fun Mom Points

I'm resigned to my reputation as the unfunnest person in the western hemisphere aside from Dick Cheney. Spontaneity assuredly is not my middle name (I used to aspire for "sartorial splendor" as a middle name, but that didn't work out either. What do you think of "better late than never"? Or perhaps simply "klutz".) Still, I try to be a cool mom, but there's always an ulterior motive: I aspire to accrue sufficient "Fun Mom" points to offset my general aura of stick-in-the-mudness.

For example:

Why does any beverage, even water, seem to taste better when sipped through a straw? And what do I care if they use four straws a day?

What's so darned attractive about food coloring? We've had green eggs, purple milk, pink mashed potatoes...

Did you know you really can fry an egg on the sidewalk if it's hot enough? Takes more than three minutes but there's no hurry because you're not going to eat it anyway.

What's so darned cool about paint? When the kids were small enough to shower together I'd give them paintbrushes and bottles of mushy, goopy paint of indeterminate colors, let them paint each other (in the bathroom of course) and then have them wash it all off in the shower.

More than once we put on raincoats and boots and sloshed every puddle in the street.

The lawn guy has a standing order not to plow our rather steep driveway; after all, when else would we be able to use all-wheel drive?

Fascinated by the plastic one-piece chopsticks we'd found at the children's museum, Robey and Cleo insisted on using them that night to eat their dinner, which happened to be pot pie. To this day pot pie requires chopsticks.

I sure hope they're paying attention.

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If Only...

Wish Miss Puppy were this compliant:

www.idodogtricks.com/index_flash.html

Barry Bonds ...

...ties Hank Aaron's record, hitting his 755th career home run during a game in San Diego. According to Tim Brown, writing for Yahoo! Sports: "[h]e is one home run from owning the record outright, a mark many consider the most sacred in sports, one that Aaron held alone since surpassing Babe Ruth in 1974." Read article here

Hmmmm. "The most sacred [record] in sports..."

I thought that was Ruth's/Maris's season homerun record...

or Gehrig's/Ripken's record for most consecutive games...

or DiMaggio's hitting streak...

Gotta love those sportswriters: masters of subtlety.

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I Couldn't Decide Whether to Laugh or Cry

Having recently confirmed my membership in the Bifocal Club, I found the attached article, and the manner in which it's conveyed, both poignant and amusing.

Check it out: As the Vision Fades, the Indignities Grow

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I'm Going to the American Idol Concert!

And I've never seen American Idol in my life!!

Nor have I ever been the least bit interested!

So why am I going? you might ask (or you might not, for all I know).

Well.

I have a friend (J) who has a friend (L) (are you following this?) who's a lawyer at a prominent local law firm. L requested the firm's box seats for the concert and dutifully (but reluctantly) invited some clients, who were unable to attend. J and L were both dying to go, but L would've looked very bad to the partners if she'd just brought a friend who has no prospect of ever becoming the firm's client. So they put on their thinking caps to try to find someone to invite who might at least give the appearance of being a potential client, and my name came up.

I'm somewhat older than both of them, and I own a house and a not-yet-profitable business. My only duty, apparently, is to raise my eyebrows knowingly to imply that I possibly might someday abandon the law firm I've used for years, and practiced law with before that, in favor of this quite large and venerable firm, mainly due to their generosity in affording me the chance to spend two hours watching the singing equivalent of the Campbell's Soup or Discover Stars on Ice, or whoever sponsers semi-famous figure skaters these days.

Maybe it won't be excruciating. It might even be fun, and since I don't get out much it'll certainly be different.

Let's see... big purse, paperback book, teeny tiny flashlight...

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Can You Keep a Secret?

Last Saturday some lady called for "Photogiftmarketing," the legal name of my business. I almost hung up on her -- what chutzpah: a sales call on Saturday! I asked suspiciously what I could do for her and she said a charge had shown up on her credit card but she'd never heard of us and was wondering if someone (ie us) had lifted her credit information. With increasing dread and dismay I took her address and phone number while praying for some colossal and humorous mistake not involving blame; meanwhile I searched her name in my sales records. Strangely, her teenage daughter's name showed up; she'd placed an order for a personalized porcelain plate decorated with a wedding photograph and the caption "Happy Anniversary."

Both tickled and relieved, we agreed she'd act surprised.

It reminded me of the time we conspired with our father to plant a magnolia tree in our back yard as a Mother's Day gift; as we (pampered daughters and less-than-handy dad) struggled to dig a hole our mother came outside to empty the trash for what might have been the first time ever and caught us in the act. I also remembered when my sister threw a surprise party for her husband and arranged for his friends to kidnap him for breakfast so she could get him out of the house and he'd think that was the reason for all the whispering; as his friends brought him home he noticed the catering truck at the back of the house around the corner.


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