New Year's Resolutions You CAN Keep!

The new year brings is supposed to bring us hope. There is nothing that leads to therapy more than the practice of making promises you'll never keep. So, let me make a few suggestions - I'm good at this.

Flip it 'till it Works

Lots of people make ridiculous resolutions about weight and vices. That's fine as long as you make the RIGHT resolutions. Try this: "I resolve to gain AS MUCH WEIGHT as possible this year! An ALL-TIME HIGH!!!!" Still superlative and, yet, enjoyably attainable.

The same goes for vices. If, before, you might have vowed to quit smoking, I think your new resolution should be: "I am going to smoke every single cigarette I find - whether they're in my purse, on the ground, in ashtrays, in other people's mouths...ALL OF THEM!" That is commitment, friends.

Being a Better Person

There are lots of ways to be a better person. One way is to make your emotions "work" for you. Now is the time to figure out how to make it sound like using your worst behaviors are, actually, good for the world. It's all about marketing.

For instance, this year, I resolve to answer my phone, by screaming at the top of my lungs, EVERY time someone who blocks their phone number calls my house. I believe that we should be dropping the tele-logical barriers that stand between the unblocked and the blocked to become a closer world. Kum-ba-flipping-ya.

Further, I am resolving to come up with creative, non-mother-related insults to hurl at my insurance company. I plan on researching other cultures' insults (e.g., Middle-Eastern, Russian), incorporating new vocabulary (e.g., Shakespearean English), and will grow in the process. The insurance company will appreciate my new "style," I think, because I have kind of gotten in a feces-based, copulation-mentioning rut with them. Win! Win!

Make a Non-Resolution

This should be something that no one could really argue with (or define - so don't get specific). but seems like you actually have a sense of commitment. So, for this year's non-resolution I have chosen: being the best grocery store customer EVER. I'm going to go to the store, shop AND pay! I will do this all year, I promise. Yea me! Some might define this differently, but I also resolve not to get caught in any resolution-misunderstandings or loopholes by discussing the actualities of my non-resolutions.

Make a Resolution that You Have Already Kept

Whammo! You're done! My already-done resolution is to be potty-trained. True, I mastered this as a two-year-old, but when the chips and the economy are down, I think it's harder and that should "count."

Aim low, rebrand, promise little and appreciate the little things - my tips for the successful new, new year you!

I'm More Neurotic Than You Are

George Gerbner of the Annenberg School for Communications at the University of Pennsylvania researched and wrote about the "mean world" affect that is the result of too much media intake and too much of the "wrong" media intake. I think that Dr. Gerbner has a point. The number of reported violence in the news, not to mention children's television, is sobering. There is very little positive on which to focus. However, I would like to point out that there is a personality issue missing here.

Some of us are just more susceptible to the messages sent. Some take in the information and decide that there are mysterious armies out to get them. Some become overprotective with their children. I, as a researcher, take in every single bit of information - whether from news or fiction - and overidentify with it. It's just me. I'm more neurotic than you. I would welcome you, though, to come to my house in a crisis, because I have probably already prepared for it.

THE APOCALYPSE
I have learned an awful lot about the Apocalypse from books like "The Road" and movies like "The Pianist," "Night of the Living Dead" and "War of the Worlds." Here's what I have learned about end-of-the-world planning.

You need a can opener. Buy three good ones and put one in your car, one outside your house (so you can get it when you're running pel-mel thru the [your Apocalypse here]), and somewhere safe in your house (in case the [your natural disaster here] traps you inside). I have seen an awful lot of canned peaches and other delicious canned treats that would have made the difference between a "Good Apocalypse" and a "Bad Apocalypse" go unused or used with GREAT energy (that could have been used to thwart [your monster here]) because there wasn't a can opener. That's avoidable.

While we are on the topic of canned Apocalypse goods, make your choices carefully. Nobody really wants canned corn at the end of the world. Make sure you have some Hershey's Syrup and macaroons. They are delicious and can be divided among your survivors easily. Go ahead and store protein and veggies, but I'm betting you'll head for the caramel sauce and boxed wine when the [your gigantic flesh-eating insect here] comes.

Decide now which car you will take when you have your wits about you. I have made my husband discuss the merits of gas mileage, speed, storage and violence resistance. So, if its a matter of a natural disaster, we're taking the van. We can store more inside it and sleep in it.

If its zombies: take the sedan. Zombies don't run fast, but why risk it??? I'm hauling tail outta there. His sedan also gets better gas mileage so we'd make it farther away from [your brain-eating animal here].

If its the end of the world and we have to get to some destination to be saved, we need the van. I watched Tom Cruise try to get through an angry mob (of people who had NOT thought out their Apocalyptic car choice carefully enough - thank you very much) and they were hitting that van with bats and sticks. A sedan is not a good choice for that. It goes without saying that I tune my cars up regularly, because I will NOT be the sucker who has a dead battery when the [your medieval lizard here] comes.

NOW, if its an electro-magnetic Apocalypse, no car will work, so in winter, I will use sleds. They can carry stuff and can move tired children easily. Bikes in the summer with large comfortable backpacks.

Practice your jumping. I do. Wanna know why? Because you will need to jump from some bridge to some escape vehicle to live through the [your alien attack here]. There WILL be a boat that will ferry you to safety to which you will need to jump. There WILL be a helicopter that will come and only those who can "make" the net will survive. Trust me. I have seen it.

Gain LOTS of weight. Let's face it, the Apocalypse is not a time to discern. People start eating each other. The BEST thing you could do for your friends and family is to be a long-lasting, delicious piece of marbled meat. Not only will they be able to live off of you for a while, but fat stores easily, is high in monster-fighting calories, and it just says, "I care." If you can't bear to think of it that way, then you should realize that you are going to need fat stores when you're living on 6 saltines a week. Go ahead, skip a meal. You've got fat!


HEINOUS CRIME

If gangs store guns in the drop ceilings of every Burger King, why shouldn't I have a viable means of self-defense in every room of my house? My grandmother (who has a gun) kept a chainsaw in her bedroom. Do you know why? Well, if you were a burglar and you heard a chain saw coming down the hall, it may just give you pause. However, I do think that one should be creative about their defense.

Some [your deranged killers here] have serious mental illness. You don't wanna provoke them. So you should be prepared with a few character voices (a motherly voice, a doctor's voice, a demon's voice) that can "tell" them that "the house next door is a better target."

Practice being a ventriloquist with these voices. Nobody, not even a [your wronged child turned psychotic killer here], likes a bad performance. Voices are free, don't require a license and could be used at parties - why not use them?

Now, a lot of people who have faced horrible crimes have made one BIG mistake. They were too clean. The police needed DNA to compare to stuff found in the [your wrongly released criminal here]'s car or house. They were caught as victims of their own cleanliness. You can come over to my house anytime and find plenty of hair in hairbrushes (I alternate cleaning them, so that one is always DNA-test ready), sometimes even nail clippings on the floor.

I also have voice samples of my children on the computer (so that the high-tech police squad, that has every device made, can match their voices to their phone calls), I regularly Sharpie-marker them with their address and insurance carrier (they forget easily in a kidnapping), and drive them far from home and have them direct me back - just to see if they know their way. There was some kid who was, like, 5 blocks from home and didn't know the way back. With just a little training, that child could have saved a lot of embarrassment and trouble.

I could go on about a myriad of other plans I have, but I think you have the idea. The media can be friend or foe - or both. I have to admit that I stay up nights wondering if some kind of pesticide or household cleaner WOULD have killed "The Blob" but I am also betting that, when the outer-space, radio-active, psycho-killing, tidal waves come, you'll join me at my house for a hot buttered rum (I have a cans-only recipe).

Guest Post!!! Will "Discovers" Andrea is Pregnant

Friends of mine, Andrea and Tom, in our old Berg in Joisey have a very adorable, very witty, very smart little boy named Will. Andrea recently emailed me this sequence of events about how Will came to understand her pregnancy. It was too funny not to share.
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We were waiting as long as possible before telling Will, but the bugger was figuring it out on his own anyhow.

Before we told him:

"Mom, what does that expression, " 'you look like a million bucks', mean?"
Me: "It means you look great, like you could say that to Mommy." (fishing for a compliment)
Then, Will actually looks at me, and lands on my protruding belly.
"Mom, just how much sugar have you been eating lately? Because it is all starting to pile up."

A few days later:

"Mom, you look like you are going to have a baby. But, you're not." Scampers off.

A day later:
Will stuffs his stuffed racecar up his shirt and walks around the house. (Real subtle).

Then, the final straw:

He starts 'babyproofing' the kitchen "just in case". (Seriously). He takes a roll of scotch tape and starts covering the cabinet doors, for the "maybe, someday baby we might have." Which all leads to barracading his room (w/ batteries and wood blocks) AGAINST the baby we "maybe, someday might have."

O.K.

Then AFTER we tell him:

"Really? I don't believe you."
"A real baby?"
"Does he look like me?"
"I don't believe you."
Peppered with a few: "I'll mash the peas for him, although I won't eat any myself."
And the ever-popular: "Mom, you are going to have to swallow a mini Halloween costume for the baby to wear." (I explain that the baby isn't exactly in my stomach). "Well, then we will just cut a hole wherever, and get it to him." (Maybe showing Will his c-section birth picture was not the best idea).

But, then back to:
"Are you really sure? How do you know?"
"I don't believe you."

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I think Tom, being a very handy human, should install a porthole in Andrea's abdomen and be done with it...
Congrats to Andrea and Tom!!!

Magic Carpet Ride

Like most windbags who think they know everything, I dabble in Anthropology. I loves me my observin'! One thing that strikes me odd is the role that carpet plays in our social standing.Apparently, the carpet has the power to confer "BETTER THAN YOU" status.

The iconic case and point is Aladdin and his magic carpet. You get the special carpet; you get the kingdom.





Centuries of royalty have gotten the comfy rug, while their subjects get the hard, cold, dirt/stone/floor.




Rugs have been made for prayer. [Nothing says, "My religion is better than yours" like a fancy rug!]




Rugs have depicted legend and immortalized great (and not-so-great) heroes.




Follow this trend to modern times, to the Oscars' "Red Carpet." They MUST not be sullied by walking on unsacred ground!




Okay, I get it. Those rare few, those all-hallowed, sacred few, deserve the best Mohawk stain-resistant we have. What I WILL NOT ACCEPT is the use of rugs for Frequent Flyer members on the airlines.

As a member of the FF programs on airlines such as Continental, when you board, you get to walk on a special rug. ALL HAIL, YOU!!! You got 1872 miles for this segment AND to walk on a glorified bath mat!

Once, just to see what would happen, I started to board using the status-conferring rug of the sacred flyer. "NO! NO!" Said the boarding agent, "You are not elite! You must walk on the stained carpet!" I tapped the rug with my foot behind me, just to irritate. She did not like that. I do not have the rug-stepping privilege.

Why do they get to decide if I am special? These other flyers were not born into royalty. They have no special accomplishments (other than the privilege of receiving 3 junk emails a day for signing up). So, I have decided to make my own "Special Person" rug. I shall not be judged or classified by the "man!" No, Sir!!!

My rug will have golden fringe (classy!). My rug will say only "SUPER SPECIAL" and I will lay it down, whenever I board a plane, or whenever I see fit. I will prance on it to my destination and, quickly, remove it so that no others may use it. Or, perhaps, I will let all my down-trodden brothers and sisters join me on my rug! What will happen to the almighty rug if we ALL can trounce on it on our own journeys?

How to Escape the PTA Commitment Conundrum

It is the beginning of the school year and all of us think "SURE!!! I got nothin' but time and money!" in response to PTA requests. Somehow, you are signing up to bring four bags of potato chips to a classroom at 10:30 TODAY. How did this happen? Well, it's that tricky "good-parents-bring-chips-bad-parents-say-no" misgiving.

You can be a good parent AND still not make 134 monogrammed cookies for the Kindergarten graduation. I swear.
I give you permission NOT to do this.

Okay, so no that I've given you the "dope slap" to understand that you can say "no," I need to give you some tips on how to get out of it all, without actually having to say "no." Who enjoys mixing it up with the PTA, PTO, Bandparents? Not I.

TIP NUMBER ONE: It worked for Pepe LePew
Go to a parent meeting without having showered for three days. Reach across the cookie/lemonade table (let the stink waft, is what I'm saying). Then, wince and say, "Hooowee!!! It's like I'm white trash er somethin'!" For you who are afraid of having to wait for bacteria to grow and want to actually shower, you can use Patchouli oil and do the same thing.


TIP NUMBER TWO: Scandal is better than a four-hour car-wash
Figure out who the PTA Chair is (as if you haven't already gotten 59 emails from her). When you see her next, just ask, "So, who swings in this school?" Look her over and ask, "What's yer husband look like?" You will NEVER get called again. You DO risk general town shunning, but to me - sometimes worth it.


TIP NUMBER THREE: Oh-my-God-I-totally-forgot
Take on the role of the overwhelmed, but lovable parent. Sign up. Sign up FOR IT ALL. Then, "forget" your responsibilities. After about 3 incidents, they'll never call you again. At stake: the misunderstanding that you have a drug habit. To gain: 3 extra hours of sleep, on a snow-chain calling, cold winter morning.

Join me in the "I'm free!!!" parade that will commence after the acceptance of any or all of these strategies.

Jobs I think I could do, and do better than the people who have them

It's getting ugly in here (inside my head). I'm starting to think about hostile take-overs in the job world. I have decided that I can do a bunch of jobs better than the people who are doing them now. So, if you're in one of these jobs, I would watch...my...back.


Caltech Informational Tech Support
When my dearest dear was a grad student there, we called them a plethera, myriad and bunch of times. Here's what they do:
"Uh, huh....Uh, huh....Uh, huh...reboot and call back." It is flippin' CALTECH and the computer support team just tells you to give yer computer the Vulcan Nerve Pinch? I can do that. I can EXCEL at that. I can even say that as though it is urgent. "HIT CONTROL ALT DELETE NOW!!!!!! HURRY!!!" That way, it sounds like it might actually be doing something or relate to your problem.


Home Depot Customer Service
Many of you many know of my recent rodent incident...eeeeoooo...shudder...pa-tooey. Here's what you get:
"Yes, can you give me the store number?" Whaaaa?

"Can you tell me what aisle you were in? No, the NUMBER of the aisle you were in?"

"Can you identify the species of mouse?"

"If you were traveling at eight miles per hour going south, and I was going 25 miles per hour going north..."

I can do this. I can do this in intelligible English. I can do this and serve my country, even.
Here's me: "Hey, did the mouse, you or anyone you know have links to Al Qaeda?" Secret shopper, HECK! I could be secret customer service agent.


Post Mortem Plastic Surgeon
Okay, I make this up, but I still think I could do it. So, somebody dies and the loved ones know they wanted to have a face lift, boob lift, whatever, but were never able to afford it. I could do it AFTER DEATH (leave a beautiful corpse, afterall), for cheap.
I have worked with enough Play Dough and bendy toys to get the effect right without all the nasty anesthesia, suture removal, etc. This is my "money maker" idea, so don't take it.


Break-up consultant
Again, I made this up, but wouldn't you hire me to do this? You have three levels of service to chose from:

1) The Gentle Let Down - I show up with a warm drink (coffee, cocoa, milk), some flowers and a song (I'll use some Burt Bacharach song, only change out the words "Love You" with "I've gotta go, but you take care now") and a conciliatory hug.


2) You did me Wrong - I show up (at their place of work) with a broken beer bottle, blacked out teeth, a Loretta Lynn wig, a bandana-print mid-drift, claiming to be "yer cousin from a-way down South" asking, "Why you a-dun this? What with the [baby/VD/kinky habits] you [made/gave/done on] my cousin?"


3) You are a psycho and will be treated as such - A restraining order is delivered (under a silver platter), with a bunch of small animals in cages for the subject to torment (in place of you). Cautionary flyers, with a current photo of your ex, are mysteriously dropped from every tall building in town. Your phone number, IP address, and place of residence are changed. The service culminates with psychological counseling for your repeated bad choices.

Wouldn't you pay for that?


I should be in a think tank for new job creation....or existing job acquisition. Maybe THAT could be my new job.
Someone call Obama.

The Rejection Letter I WANT to Get

Dear Madame,

We received your well-constructed resume.  What a THRILL!!! You picked US to submit that engaging listing of your illustrious career.

While we don't have a position that is nearly good enough for you,  we would like to praise you on some of your achievements:

1) All those years of filing incidious Internal Review Board applications and you haven't off-ed yourself? BRAVA!!

2) We noticed that you have worked with some pretty shady organizations and still haven't been arrested...how DO you do it?  You are an icon of virtue.

3)  Anyone who can show up to a job entitled, "Coordinator of State and Federal Aid and Programmatic Evaluator" every day, deserves a medal.  We couldn't even copy that without having to look back at your resume 3 times.

 

4) World Traveler?  Chain Saw Juggling?  You are not only one of the most well-rounded people we have ever reviewed, but also supercool.

Let's face it, this college doesn't deserve a fine human such as yourself.  What we want to do is pay you to stay home and think good thoughts for us, but payroll is, well, funny about those things.  

Wow!  Thanks again for your application.  Boy, do we wish we had some role for YOU here at our humble workplace.  Good luck and PLEASE know that we wish we were lucky enough to be able to hire you.

Sincerely, 

Human Resources

P.S. We can tell you are super-smokin' hot, just by your font!

How I Rule the World (Along Side You)

Being unemployed makes you question your worth, your place, your Marxist value to the world.  Well, friends, no longer!  I just figured out that I know how to do EVERYTHING!!!!  Actually, most things, but I'm prone to hyperbole.  I have recently learned so much that I feel certain I could rule the world (with you).

Okay, I noticed it happening about 5-7 years ago.  I went to a restaurant.  It was a nice kinda place.  I was smiling and drinking my Kir.  I must admit, sometimes it makes me uncomfortable to get that weird, over-the-top service.  Then, when my meal was as done as it was going to be, I asked to have it "packed up."  The smarmy little snippet, who had practically spooned my meal into my mouth said, "Sure!!" and then walked away without my plate.  Huh?  She came back, dumped a styrofoam clam shell on the table and said, "Here you are!"  WHAT?  "Well, huh.  I guess this is what they do here," I thought.  No, no, friends, this is our inevitable fate.  No more pack-up service for you!

Then, I noticed that my grocery store started letting go of baggers.  I had to put my own stuff on the friggin' belt of consumerism, run down to the end of the thing (so a dangerous pile-up wouldn't happen - you never come back from those) and bag my own stuff.  

I tried to channel my favorite bagger, Sean X (I swear), a man with Downs Syndrome who was a savante at bagging.  I built "the wall" as Sean called it - boxes on the two ends of the bag, other stuff in between the boxes.  I have theme bags: "produce,""pantry" and "depression."  [ That last one is chocolate, ice cream, Tylenol PM, and any kind of liquor your store will sell you - cooking wine, cabernet, Colt 45.]

Then, they started the "self-service" check out.  Not only do I (and you) have to place and bag our own stuff, NOW we have to learn how to use the laser-beamed eye to scan it.  I remember when those first started showing up in grocery stores.  It was all about how it would make our experience better.  I swear to [your God here] it never fails to ring up a bag of peas that I never buy.  There is one, really ticked-off  cashier in the center, rolling their eyes each time I have the "item removed from bagging area" message...and I have that one a lot.  

Then, and this is the moment of shocking, shocking horror, I was asked to participate in my own uterine ultrasound.  Shudder.  Okay, not bad enough that you sexualize the whole thing by putting a creepy condom on it, NOW I have to "place" it?  Why don't I do the magical button pushing, interpret the results, and consult with myself, too?

Okay, I don't wanna hear any complaining about those weird Mongolian or Korean restaurants in which you cook your own food on your table.  You asked for that going in.  I'm just saying that it seems as though we're all headed down a path that puts more on us.  Do we all gain a few new skills?  Sure.  I love to race the person next to me at the self-serve checkout, narrowing my eyes, smirking and nodding to them, knowingly, as if to say, "Oh yeah, I'm scanmaster!"  I enjoy surprisingly my server with an old school leftovers foil swan (now a lost art).  "See? See what I can do, now that you won't?"  When I get an ultrasound now, I run the scanner over my belly, squirting jelly everywhere, waving the wand of terror like a weapon (not sure that's an actual gained skill, but still, there is a power shift).

I do feel that my skills make me a contributing member of society.  (Although my new skills probably mean that someone is now unemployed and NOT contributing, so maybe that doesn't compute.) I'm just scared that we are all going to have to use forklifts to stock the cabinets that we shop from, before we place the items on the belt, from which we scan and bag them.  I'm frightened that, soon, I'll have to do my own dental work, paying for the use of their tools or give myself a mammogram (don't think the self breast exam isn't part of this - its a gateway service).  

[One thing that I would like to remind all those who are asking more of me: do NOT expect the same level of reverence that I had for you previously.  If I can do what you do, then we're peers. Further, I would like you to lower your prices and rates.  If I help, I should get paid.]

Alright, I'm done.  See you on the throne -  that I will be fixing, sitting in and photographing for the press.

Water Boring

Nothing about torture, I promise.  I was just driving around the neighborhood and thinking that, if I were single, I would check out the sprinkler of my stalkee, before hooking up.   Forget about the car they drive, forget about the 401K, think about the sprinkler.  So, look at this guy above.  I'm thinking very vanilla, never gets his freak on, and you'll find him out there, adjusting that one imperfect sprinkler for the next 40 years.





Um, you can dress it up, but this is the same danged thing as the first guy.  In fact, I would be avoiding this person, because they think that, by putting a pretty turtle on it, they have BLOWN YOUR SPRINKLIN' MIND.  This person is all about presentation and not about content.



Okay, a sense of humor is good, but I'm wondering how far and how deep the wounds in this person go.  This definitely smacks of childhood trauma.  "Daddy, don't put Mr. Crackers on my shoulder!!!  His beak is sharp. Daddy!!!"




Dear God.

Well, this is innovation.  There is some thought going on here about trying to get every angle, address every issue.  It's got a little unpredictability about it.  I could see this person bringing home a bouquet of six or seven types of roses because they wanted to make sure you'd at least like one of them.  

Now, see?  This is what I'm talkin' 'bout.  There is fun.  There is nuttiness, without fright.  There is still practicality, without boredom.  This is the person to stalk.  Get rid of these neighbor kids, put on yer Miracle Suit - you're done.

Fight the Power!

There was a time when I was an angry (go figure!), trend-setting, club-rat.  While that time is long past, I would still like to impact the fashion world around me.  The laws of physics, however, make that challenging for an aging, angry hausfrau.

So, if you cannot create, you can always desecrate.  I now consider myself the leader/founder of a movement I call: "Fashion Killer."  Yes, it is a more embittered way to address the trends but, then, I am a more embittered person than I once was.  I will again blaze the trail of your enlightenment.

I like to take ANY current trend of those in "power" (i.e., the young) and wear it out publicly. While this is progress, it also makes the wearer seem silly.  The fashion-killing comes when I over-identify with my co-wearers.   

Case study:  The Snoop-dogg t-shirt.  

There was a time when it was very hip to wear your favorite rapper's silhouette on an oversized t-shirt.  Oversized?  I can do that.  So, I got myself a Snoop-shirt.  

I wore that thing to the Home Depot, grocery store, liquor store (it's like clubbing, only the drunks aren't pretty), childcare pick-up...  I would point to the shirt, shoot some Isaac (from the Love Boat) finger guns at another trendy soul, and smile widely, as if to say, "HEY!!! LOOK!!! I'm cool like YOU!!!"

The reaction went like this:  1) nervous laughter, 2) some variant of "no she didn't" 3) silent, yet obvious, self re-evaluation. 

I understand that time kills fashion, too, but nothing says "IT IS OVER" more than a round, middle-aged, graying stay-at-home wearing a trend.  NOW, who has the power?

Further, this works with hair-styles, trendy phrases, and anything that the young decide that they like....moo-wah-ha-ha.

I love my new foray into fashion!  I have regained my former title!  All hail!!!  

I have even found an unintended benefit to my fashion-killer spree:  managing the boundaries of my own children's fashion whims.  When they hold up a micro-shirt that would be "great for school" I just ask the salesperson if it "is available in "Plus" sizes?  SERIOUSLY!!! I Must have THAT!!!  It is too cute (fashion-killing word numero uno)!!"  

Desire for said shirt? Zero.

The world is an agist, heightist, "out-with-the-old" kinda place.  Let's not forget, however, that wisdom and bitterness go a long way.  "Yes, she did!"

Good Times

Most people know that I am flying in the face of recession...tra la!!!

Well, because I want you, too, to experience some of the "Good Times" like I have, 

I will share my top, "you go girl," "what recession?" moment of the week. 

I call it: Flexible Spending JACKPOT!!!!!

One member of my child-rearing team is still working. I'll give you a hint: it's not me.  Before I lost my job, we decided to allocate LOTS and LOTS of pre-tax money for dependent care (that I  can't afford, now that I have no job) and medical expenses that aren't covered under our "insurance fantastico" (as I like to call it).  I need that cash back.  So, I have been reading page after insufferable page of our Flexible Spending Account Bible to find out what items I might be able to cash in on. This is particularly funny, because its my own money, that's now theirs, that I am REALLY excited about getting back.

So here I am, reading into the night, straining my eyes (but don't worry, glasses ARE COVERED) and what do I find?  Well, friends, I find this, and am happy to share it with you:

CONDOMS ARE REIMBURSABLE!!!!!!  

That's right!  Have all the protected eco-sex you want, using three or four condoms at once!!! No worries here! You can get your hard-earned, pre-tax, "jiggy" dollars back!  

Well, this was just too wonderful.  Then, it hit me.  Imagine having to fill out that form for reimbursement.  You must enclose that receipt for the glow-in-the-dark variety pack you selected as a "joke" (and yet still used) with your signature on it.  You might be embarrassed to run for congress with THAT little piece of paper floating around...

So, and because I care about you (and I have LOTS of free time), I decided to desensitize (no pun intended) as many of the staff of one of the largest flexible spending companies in the US.  I  called the company over and over again, asking every question about condom reimbursement I could.  

"Is there a limit to how many condoms/condom expenses they will reimburse?"  

"Does it matter if the condoms weren't used with the person who makes the payments into this, particular, flexible spending account?"  

"What was the highest dollar reimbursement ever made for condoms (I said I would wait while they asked around)?"  

"Did they feel comfortable processing these claims, even if it was against their religious, moral or ethical principles?"

"What if the condoms were just for 'fun' and not actual birth control?"

"What kinds of condom reimbursement claims raise 'the red flag?'"

I called and got at least 12 different representatives.  I did this over and over for you, friends.  There isn't one representative who isn't completely habituated to ANY question about condom reimbursement.  

So, go ahead, make that claim.  Buy condoms for ALL your pals.  Give them to teens that look like they might need them.  Let your kids (who may, ironically, be the result of faulty condoms) make water balloons.  You'll be reimbursed with no shame, questions, or giggles. I made sure...because I care.

  

Keeping it Eco not Pollu

I'm as concerned about the world's end as much as the next neurotic over-consumer  - really.  So I stayed up all night worrying about our new eco-problems for you.  Here are some things that I think you and I could do to save the world:

1) Use the prefix "eco" for everything.  Eco-awareness is really important to our mission.  So, if my husband and I make out, without using any paper, electricity or coal, this shall now be deemed "eco-mating."  Spread the eco-word to your eco-pals.  Also, just in case this gets "old" I think we should use the prefix "pollu-" for things that kill our world.  So, pollu-washing your car would be a wasteful, hose-using act.

2) Water is at a premium.  Somebody on NPR (so it's true) said that there is somewhere around 3 or 4 gallons of fresh water on the planet that we are all using, cleaning and sharing with the next human.  While this is disgusting (particularly if you are the 10th or 11th person using it), we should all be thinking about the next eco-dude - and our planet.  So, here are my new water-saving tips: 

a) encourage your kids to go to the bathroom outside, where they won't be tempted to flush.  They can use eco-leaves to wipe - saving paper, too!

b) let your pets clean your baked on messes.  My dog will spend, approximately, 2-3 hours working on a filthy lasagna pan with baked-on cheese.  Good for him!!! Good for our eco-world!!! Pre-soaking accounts for WAY too much water.  Let's put non-emissions (unless you have a bulldog, but it gasses anyway, so you're not ADDING emissions) dog power to work and save some water, people!!! Further, I have to tell you that, at least my dog, does a better job than the 2-hour scrub cycle on my pollu-washing Bosch.  After the dog is done, I spray the pan with Lysol (non-aerosol) and put it in the eco-full dishwasher.  I think I save about 40 gallons of water a month doing this.  I am really thinking of letting my dog clean my oven soon.  I'll keep you posted.

c) I learned this next tip from my brother, when he was a rock and roll musician, living on the cheap.  Do away with all your clothes washing.  Go to the thrift-store on "fill-a-bag" day (using your reused grocery bag).  Pick a bag of clothes.  Wear them until they smell.  Tear them up for rags or make them into dog-toys, earth-friendly insulation - whatever.  Buy new ones next week.  You have eco-saved thousands of gallons of water.   

d) Kick it old school/renaissance.  Leave your clothes out in the rain.  Passive-washing, as I am now naming it is cool.  Let the clothes dry in the sun.  Your clothes will be sorta clean without using any soap, water or pollu-energy.  What the hell is perfume for, anyway?  Those eco-cats in the 1600s used the "spray and (don't) wash" philosophy and it worked!  Look at all the art!  They don't look unhappy or worried about our planet!

e) Some of us can't be creative unless we're forced.  So, don't pay your water bill for, about, 3 months.  Having your water turned off is enlightening and will really help you think of new ways to save water.  My kid enjoy the neighbors' sprinklers for showers - its dual-purpose eco-water AND my kids get some time away from the Wii.

3) Decide on the ONE, SINGULAR resource you will be saving (i.e., water, electricity) and stick to that ONE.  Learn from our 1970s, feminist leaders: You will make yourself crazy if you try to do it all.  Thinking about the cloth-diaper versus disposable diaper thing will kill you - honestly.  "Cloth diapers save the land-fill...but disposables don't use water in washing machines...but cloth diapers are re-usable and, therefore, have less manufacturing pollu-impact."  See?  I spent an entire month of child-rearing time arguing about this with my cohort.  I COULD have spent it recycling plastic or calling Washington to action against DDT (or whatever).  I decided that water-saving is my religion - heck with the land-fills.  That can be YOUR mission.  Just make a decision.  

It'll all work out, don't worry.  I'm worrying enough about it for you.