Am I a clown? Do I make you laugh?

Recently I am wondering why my life is so amusing. Is it me, because I have a good sense of humor I see things in a funny light? Or is that some higher power likes to screw with me? I am not sure I want to know the answer.

During the day, when I am not surfing the internet reading People.com or fantasizing about my next vacation, I am in Human Resources. For all intensive purposes that means I am the bitch who tells you "no" to everything fun you want to do.

Q: Can I give so and so a raise?
Me: No.

Q: Can I serve alcohol at the party?
Me: No.

Q: Can we accept gifts from vendors?
Me: No.

Anywoo, the other day I have someone in my office lobbying to get telecommuting privileges because she has an upcoming medical procedure (read: Dr. 90210). My answer....wait for it....No. The whole time we are meeting she has this swarmy smirk on her face. And I keep asking her, "Is there something else on your mind? You don't seem satisified with my answers..." She says no and we wrap up.

A few minutes later I am doing a spot check in the mirror -- how bad is the gray hair today? Anything in my teeth? (You know the drill.) And there it is -- a big dollop of yogurt on my nose. Not on the tip, but about 3/4 of an inch up.

EXCELLENT.

Now I understand why this woman was looking at me with those eyes that were clearly saying "jackass!"

For the record, as she was coming to my office I was downing some yogurt and I couldn't find a spoon, ergo I was just trying to drink it. Hey, at least it was yogurt and not a vat of mayo or something.

I wish I could say this was an isolated incident. I went home that night and told my husband and he said "hasn't that happened before?"

Technically, no. Last time it was salad dressing.

Seriously, does crap like this happen to other people? I don't feel like it does. Case in point....

Last weekend I am at the gym. I go to the gym in the office b.c. it's cheap and actually its not that bad. They have TVs at every machine and the locker rooms are clean and big.

So there I am on the elliptical, scanning the channels. I stop on VH1 and start watching "Rock of Love". Have you seen this? You must. It's basically the Bachelor, but the guy is Brett Michaels from Poison. The woman seem to have limited intelligence but high levels of silicone and collagen. It is great, classic, reality TV. I am entranced.

In this one particular scene Brett is hosting a dance off and the girls are dancing (scantily clad, of course) and he starts doing body shots off them. Again, classic reality TV. Then I realize that someone is hovering over my left shoulder watching my TV. Hovering a solid ten seconds, while Brett is doing more body shots.

Finally, I look to see who is this person watching me watch (basically) soft porn (practically) at the office.

Yeah.

It's the #2 guy in the whole company. In line to be #1. Makes at minimum 20 times what I do a year. And there he is, watching me watching soft porn at work. And mind you, I am in Human Resources.

I am of course immediately mortified. And I switch the channel to MSNBC. What is going on with the Clinton campaign?

Then I just start laughing, because I feel like this could only happen to me.

At what point do these ridiculous incidents gain critical mass and I just need to find another job? Hopefully no time soon, because I have another 2 years before I am vested.

I hate Microwave popcorn

For Christmas Eve dinner, I made a seven course fish dinner (in the Italian tradition). I regularly make home made soups and pasta sauce, etc etc. I am no Julia Child, but I am not that bad. I can cook.

Then, why, why, why? is it so damn hard to make microwave popcorn. I burn the fucker every time! And that horrid smell of burnt popcorn lingers for hours. As if the smell is taunting me...

"eh ha...you can't even make popcorn"

For the love of God.

Sometimes the easiest things are the hardest.

the un-vacation: traveling with small kids

This past week we took the plunge and took the kids to an all inclusive family resort in Jamaica.

As a child, vacation is a time to run around, play all day, eat a lot of sugar and stay up late.

As a parent, vacation is a time to relax, find some serenity and catch up on your sleep.

Clearly these two things do not fit well together, especially if as a parent you actually bring your kids on vacation with you.

We need to find another word for these type of trips. It's not torture, but its not necessarily relaxing either. You sleep sometimes, but not a lot. You eat, but often shoving food in your face as you run after an errant child. Serenity finds you in that brief moment at 2 am when you have to pee and everyone else is asleep.

So, at some point, for us it was the 3rd or 4th day, you have to let go of your ideas of the vacation and realize what it is....an extended play date with your kids. Which is a rare opportunity when you have two working parents. Revel in the joy of the kid as she walks around with ice cream dripping down her face, her bathing suit and some of it lands on her feet. Find serenity in spending an evening in bed with your husband, watching TV as the kids sleep next to you (and you take turns running down to the bar).

Then, on your way back home, talk about your vacation plans -- your real vacation -- the one where the kids stay with grandma and grandpa and you can stay up late, eat lots of sugar and play all day....

Be afraid, Be very afraid....or maybe not...

Next week we are taking the family away on vacation. A warm weather vacation, I am really looking forward to it.

Now that I am a mother of two, have a decent job, decent car, decent house, I feel like I am finally ready...finally ready to step it up and...get a bikini wax.

Let's face it there are two major issues with the bikini wax.

1. Pain.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3QAHHXnGUo

We've all seen the scene from 40 year old virgin. But imagine that near your ha ha, or hoo hoo, or whatever you chose to call it. The skin down there is sensitive and frankly, I like it that way. Do men do this to their...how should I put it...cojones? OUCH.

2. Exposure

I talk a big game, but at the end of day, I am a little prudish about this stuff. I mean come on, it was bad enough giving birth when I had 3-5 people peeking at my hoo hoo, do I really need someone examining my grooming routine?

I often think that has to be a terrible job...
"Hi Honey, how was your day?"
"Really busy. I looked a lot of a hairy beavers today, but I took care of them all"

Anyway, despite all this, I decide that I will go forward, because I am old enough, and I should be able to handle this right? right?

Two days before I call my friend in Boston, who has a very long pregnant pause after I tell her. I am thinking, oh great, either I've offended her by talking about something too private, or she had some sort of scarring experience. She proceeds to tell me that her friend did it and the after shock necessitated ice.

ICE! for the love of God.

Thanks for the support!

The night before the wax, I have a nightmare, I show up and the place is like a grocery store. The bed where they put me to do the "deed" is actually a check out line -- you know with the moving belt and the scanner. At one point, she tells me, "can you close your legs, this guy is trying to check out" -- clearly I am stressed about this "procedure"

The day of the wax I confess to my co worker, she advises talking Advil prior. Advil? Then she scolds me for a being a wee bit hungover, "oh that will make it worse...."

WHAT AM I GETTING MYSELF INTO???

Fine, I am 32 yrs old, I can handle this. So, I go. I disrobe, I lay down, I spread my legs -- actually not really about that last part. It's not really that bad. Yes, it hurts but it goes away quickly. I mean, I didn't limp out of there. I survived. I think it was probably worth it.

Of course the real test will be if I ever do it again...

Crap Shoot, er, Count

Let me just start with the fact that I love my kids. I really do. Life changing experience, etc etc.

However....I'd never thought I spend so much time thinking about shit. And I mean true blue (well in this case brown) shit.

When they are babies its all about the poop, which is okay, because it doesn't really smell and its still a novelty. Then they start eating real food and it starts to stink. My 3 year old can tell when her 1 year old sister has pooped from across the room, "Mommy, she pooped! She's a stinker!"

And her words are accurate so I can't really say, "oh thats not nice"....because, lets face it, shit stinks.

By the time the kid is two you are figuring out ways to avoid changing a shit laden diaper. My favorite is telling my daughter to go give Daddy a hug. Which my husband thinks is so cute that his daughter is *spontaneously* hugging him. Then he breathes in....yikes!

Then when you are potty training them, it is a strange turn in emotion. Perhaps some of a my proudest moments have been seeing a log of shit floating in the toilet. I literally feel myself beaming with pride.

Let's pause here and think about that. Shit makes me beam with pride. Parenthood is really twisted.

My oldest is now 3, which by my calculations, means that I have probably handled over a 1,000 of her craps. I feel like I should hang a sign up on the front door....

Family McChung

Proudly Handling over a 1,000 pieces of shit

This is why I am against a dog or cat. At least with kids there is an end to the shit handling. I don't think you can potty train a dog.

Crazy pregnancies in the press

I am a total tabloid junkie. This whole Jamie Lynn Spears thing is ridiculous. Here is the next story we'll see in People magazine....

"Dora the Explorer pregnant -- Father is Grumpy Old Troll! Dora criticized for wearing revealing clothing (see midriff shirt below)."

For those of you without kids, here is a pic of Dora and the Grumpy Old Troll

Why am I doing this?

I figured this will be a good way for me to get out all the funny stories/thoughts I have floating in my brain. And it can serve as a diary for my kids to look back later and say, "oh my god, my mom is such a dork"

This is probably a temporary thing while I am not that busy at work. I am sure when it gets busy again this thing will gather cyber dust.

Do other people actually read these? Highly doubtful.