Jen Mann's Blog, page 36
April 6, 2013
Weekly Wrap Up 4.6.13
Let's see. What's been going on since we wrapped up last?
I turned 41, which wasn't nearly as painful as 40. I guess the closer you get to 50, the more numb you become?? No, you didn't miss a huge party or anything. I celebrated at Red Robin, because the birthday person gets a free sundae that my kid like to eat for me. The Hubs ordered me a new Kindle last night, so I'm guessing that will count as my present. Thanks, Hubs!
I Just Want to Pee Alone is killing it. The reviews are fantastic and my co-contributors and I are fielding so many press calls left and right from small, regional news sources that we feel like rockstars. I mean, how many of you can say you were interviewed by The Shepherdstown Chronicle? Besides West Virginia, I've made the leap to international stardom. It's ironic, really, that I can't get the Kansas City Star to notice me, but I've been interviewed on the radio in Ireland and if Google's translation skills are to be believed, this site in Brazil called me a "negative bastard." Why doesn't the Kansas City Star want to interview this negative bastard? Oh well, their loss.
Because I Just Want to Pee Alone is going so well, I've started a new site. Why? Because I hate sleep, that's why. Actually, the Hubs is doing the bulk of this site, because I love sleep. The new site is called - wait for it - ijustwanttopeealone.com. Catchy, right? So this site is going to be cool. I know that there are lots and lots of you out there who have something to say. I've heard from many people who already want to submit for IJWTPA Volume 2. Well, Volume 2 is a ways off, so that's why I started the site. This way I can showcase all of the amazing talent that's out there and help you find your audience. The site is up and live and ready for submissions, so check it out. Do me a favor, would you? Please let all of your writer friends know so they can submit too. There is also a Facebook page for the site, so be sure to follow it too. It won't be all book promo stuff, I promise.
Do you live in Minnesota? I know it's a big state, but maybe you live near Wayzata? If you do, then you should go and meet Michelle Newman of You're My Favorite Today at her booksigning!
If you're in Kansas City, don't forget that you have two opportunities to come and see me. I'll be doing a live reading with some other amazing bloggers at the Kansas City Listen to Your Mother show and I'll be signing books at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park.
Top Read Posts This Week:
Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow! - Attention Target shoppers! Target thinks you're a sea cow.
The Lady at the Self Checkout - This is a reminder why it is never wise to risk the self-checkout the day before a holiday.
My Retirement Plan Sucks - Pssst! Looking for a good investment tip? I've got a hot one for you! Check it out.
The Costume Designers at Mad Men Need to Keep Their Hands Off Jon's Family Jewels - If you've got 'em, flaunt 'em.
Victoria's Secret - Vicky wants to sell your tween panties that you would be embarrassed to wear.
My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):
How about Piggy Pink? on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I'm kinda partial to the Retaining Water Blue. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
Don't forget the Junk in the Trunk Jewel Tones Collection for Fall. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I dont think I have laughed that hard at anything in long time. Your beluga - Oh God, My Eyes - White had me snorting while I was laughing so hard I was crying. To top it off, Im at work which made things even more hysterical. Thanks for that. You have made my day, weekend, week, and month!!! on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I always thought it would be fun to name the colors in a seasonal line, but after ten seasons of renaming grey, I would probably be the fuck up that made almost all women hate Target. A feat that before this week seemed impossible. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
Coming next season: fat ass fusia, lardass lavender, obese orange and drop the donut damask. assholes. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I love you. My kids are still in day-care, so most of the "other moms" are also harried working moms who barely have time to get the laundry done, and probably used their finger to get the last of the PB out of the jar this morning because they haven't been to the grocery store in 2 weeks. Also, my kids go to Jewish day-care, ergo no secular holidays… which is basically a giant bonus "mom pass" on all the shit you mentioned above, plus Halloween costumes. However, I realize this time is precious, because soon I will have to interact with (compete with? be compared to? be shamed by? be judged by?) the OAMs since they will have kids in kindergarten/first grade. (Presumably, they are too overachieving to allow “strangers to raise their children” as I have oh so regrettably done.) Anyway, I'm about to enter a land of women who are planning to hit yoga and grab a latte and possibly get a mani-pedi after drop off, as opposed to rushing to the office and spending their lunch hour at on The Over Achievers Are at it Again
I dunno, with global warming, coats may become obsolete. Maybe you should start stockpiling sandals just in case. ;) on My Retirement Plan Sucks
I thought about that too, and luckily we've got a good start on sandals and flip flops, so I think we'll be good.
A friend told me recently that there are scholarships and tuition discounts for Eagle Scouts so I have decided all that camping and scouting crap that my hubby and the boy do together might pay off after all. Hubby went to a 3 day "leader training" a few weeks ago that involved camping in snow because evidently when the boy graduates from webelos they start camping 12 months out of the year! So I figure we won't need dorm expenses in college, he can just get a camping space close to campus and live in a tent. The girl is like me and won't go near a tent but all this gymnastics might qualify her as a pole dancer or something so I am definitely investing in skills of sustainability for them both! on My Retirement Plan Sucks
Don't you lie - you saw this magnificent wreck of a woman and parked it right behind her, knowing FULL WELL that the line beside you was moving right along. "It's okay," you told the nice man who tapped you on the shoulder and pointed at the available self check stand, "I have a blog post due, and this will make for a good one." on The Lady at the Self-Checkout
PIWTPITT, me and my mom read your blog constantly, and I usually agree with what you have to say. But today, I disagree. Coming from me (a modest 17 year old girl), I have never bought any of the "call me" underwear. I honestly go right past it and to the regular people underwear. My mom takes me to VS because they're great at figuring out your exact bra size and finding the right bra for your body. If i had picked up a neon-zebra print thong, she would say "What the heck, D." I have friends that wear that type of underwear, and it doesn't make them racy. It's a personal preference and whatever they think is comfortable. Yes, I had a VS bra in middle school, because of ridiculous puberty, but that doesn't make me slutty. It just means I wanted a bra that would last longer than one from Target. Besides, it seems to me that this is towards college age girls. VS may claim everything to be "Very Sexy", but that doesn't make them a bad company. Young girls (middle school - college) can on Victoria's Secret
Hey Girl, Thank you for your comment. You are an articulate young woman who leaves grammatically correct dissensions. Thank you for that. I completely understand needing a bra in middle school. I was right there with you, getting some horrible contraption before everyone else. In my day, we didn't have any choices for young girls, so I ended up with some granny looking thing. But that's beside the point. What I wanted to say to you was: I think you made my point when you said if you ever picked up a neon zebra print thong, your mother would say, "What the heck, D?" Your mother is watching you. She is guiding you. Your mother is there helping you pick appropriate clothing for you. That's all I'm asking for. I'm asking for more mothers to get involved. If your friends want to wear these types of clothing, I just want to make sure their mothers are aware. I'm so over the top about this kind of stuff that if a teenager emails me and tells me she reads my blog, I tell her to go show the blog to her mother and get her permission. Parents need to know what their kids are wearing, reading, watching, etc. There are many parents out there who would not find me appropriate reading material and I'm OK with that. It's easy for me right now, because my daughter is six, but someday the marketing will work and she will be drawn to panties that say "Let's Get It On" or something equally brazen and I will want to know "Why??" Why does she need these panties. What does she really get from these panties instead of a pair that says nothing? That is my concern with this sort of clothing. You don't need to wear sexy panties to feel confident or beautiful or sexy.
I turned 41, which wasn't nearly as painful as 40. I guess the closer you get to 50, the more numb you become?? No, you didn't miss a huge party or anything. I celebrated at Red Robin, because the birthday person gets a free sundae that my kid like to eat for me. The Hubs ordered me a new Kindle last night, so I'm guessing that will count as my present. Thanks, Hubs!
I Just Want to Pee Alone is killing it. The reviews are fantastic and my co-contributors and I are fielding so many press calls left and right from small, regional news sources that we feel like rockstars. I mean, how many of you can say you were interviewed by The Shepherdstown Chronicle? Besides West Virginia, I've made the leap to international stardom. It's ironic, really, that I can't get the Kansas City Star to notice me, but I've been interviewed on the radio in Ireland and if Google's translation skills are to be believed, this site in Brazil called me a "negative bastard." Why doesn't the Kansas City Star want to interview this negative bastard? Oh well, their loss.
Because I Just Want to Pee Alone is going so well, I've started a new site. Why? Because I hate sleep, that's why. Actually, the Hubs is doing the bulk of this site, because I love sleep. The new site is called - wait for it - ijustwanttopeealone.com. Catchy, right? So this site is going to be cool. I know that there are lots and lots of you out there who have something to say. I've heard from many people who already want to submit for IJWTPA Volume 2. Well, Volume 2 is a ways off, so that's why I started the site. This way I can showcase all of the amazing talent that's out there and help you find your audience. The site is up and live and ready for submissions, so check it out. Do me a favor, would you? Please let all of your writer friends know so they can submit too. There is also a Facebook page for the site, so be sure to follow it too. It won't be all book promo stuff, I promise.
Do you live in Minnesota? I know it's a big state, but maybe you live near Wayzata? If you do, then you should go and meet Michelle Newman of You're My Favorite Today at her booksigning!
If you're in Kansas City, don't forget that you have two opportunities to come and see me. I'll be doing a live reading with some other amazing bloggers at the Kansas City Listen to Your Mother show and I'll be signing books at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park.
Top Read Posts This Week:
Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow! - Attention Target shoppers! Target thinks you're a sea cow.
The Lady at the Self Checkout - This is a reminder why it is never wise to risk the self-checkout the day before a holiday.
My Retirement Plan Sucks - Pssst! Looking for a good investment tip? I've got a hot one for you! Check it out.
The Costume Designers at Mad Men Need to Keep Their Hands Off Jon's Family Jewels - If you've got 'em, flaunt 'em.
Victoria's Secret - Vicky wants to sell your tween panties that you would be embarrassed to wear.
My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):
How about Piggy Pink? on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I'm kinda partial to the Retaining Water Blue. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
Don't forget the Junk in the Trunk Jewel Tones Collection for Fall. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I dont think I have laughed that hard at anything in long time. Your beluga - Oh God, My Eyes - White had me snorting while I was laughing so hard I was crying. To top it off, Im at work which made things even more hysterical. Thanks for that. You have made my day, weekend, week, and month!!! on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I always thought it would be fun to name the colors in a seasonal line, but after ten seasons of renaming grey, I would probably be the fuck up that made almost all women hate Target. A feat that before this week seemed impossible. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
Coming next season: fat ass fusia, lardass lavender, obese orange and drop the donut damask. assholes. on Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
I love you. My kids are still in day-care, so most of the "other moms" are also harried working moms who barely have time to get the laundry done, and probably used their finger to get the last of the PB out of the jar this morning because they haven't been to the grocery store in 2 weeks. Also, my kids go to Jewish day-care, ergo no secular holidays… which is basically a giant bonus "mom pass" on all the shit you mentioned above, plus Halloween costumes. However, I realize this time is precious, because soon I will have to interact with (compete with? be compared to? be shamed by? be judged by?) the OAMs since they will have kids in kindergarten/first grade. (Presumably, they are too overachieving to allow “strangers to raise their children” as I have oh so regrettably done.) Anyway, I'm about to enter a land of women who are planning to hit yoga and grab a latte and possibly get a mani-pedi after drop off, as opposed to rushing to the office and spending their lunch hour at on The Over Achievers Are at it Again
I dunno, with global warming, coats may become obsolete. Maybe you should start stockpiling sandals just in case. ;) on My Retirement Plan Sucks
I thought about that too, and luckily we've got a good start on sandals and flip flops, so I think we'll be good.
A friend told me recently that there are scholarships and tuition discounts for Eagle Scouts so I have decided all that camping and scouting crap that my hubby and the boy do together might pay off after all. Hubby went to a 3 day "leader training" a few weeks ago that involved camping in snow because evidently when the boy graduates from webelos they start camping 12 months out of the year! So I figure we won't need dorm expenses in college, he can just get a camping space close to campus and live in a tent. The girl is like me and won't go near a tent but all this gymnastics might qualify her as a pole dancer or something so I am definitely investing in skills of sustainability for them both! on My Retirement Plan Sucks
Don't you lie - you saw this magnificent wreck of a woman and parked it right behind her, knowing FULL WELL that the line beside you was moving right along. "It's okay," you told the nice man who tapped you on the shoulder and pointed at the available self check stand, "I have a blog post due, and this will make for a good one." on The Lady at the Self-Checkout
PIWTPITT, me and my mom read your blog constantly, and I usually agree with what you have to say. But today, I disagree. Coming from me (a modest 17 year old girl), I have never bought any of the "call me" underwear. I honestly go right past it and to the regular people underwear. My mom takes me to VS because they're great at figuring out your exact bra size and finding the right bra for your body. If i had picked up a neon-zebra print thong, she would say "What the heck, D." I have friends that wear that type of underwear, and it doesn't make them racy. It's a personal preference and whatever they think is comfortable. Yes, I had a VS bra in middle school, because of ridiculous puberty, but that doesn't make me slutty. It just means I wanted a bra that would last longer than one from Target. Besides, it seems to me that this is towards college age girls. VS may claim everything to be "Very Sexy", but that doesn't make them a bad company. Young girls (middle school - college) can on Victoria's Secret
Hey Girl, Thank you for your comment. You are an articulate young woman who leaves grammatically correct dissensions. Thank you for that. I completely understand needing a bra in middle school. I was right there with you, getting some horrible contraption before everyone else. In my day, we didn't have any choices for young girls, so I ended up with some granny looking thing. But that's beside the point. What I wanted to say to you was: I think you made my point when you said if you ever picked up a neon zebra print thong, your mother would say, "What the heck, D?" Your mother is watching you. She is guiding you. Your mother is there helping you pick appropriate clothing for you. That's all I'm asking for. I'm asking for more mothers to get involved. If your friends want to wear these types of clothing, I just want to make sure their mothers are aware. I'm so over the top about this kind of stuff that if a teenager emails me and tells me she reads my blog, I tell her to go show the blog to her mother and get her permission. Parents need to know what their kids are wearing, reading, watching, etc. There are many parents out there who would not find me appropriate reading material and I'm OK with that. It's easy for me right now, because my daughter is six, but someday the marketing will work and she will be drawn to panties that say "Let's Get It On" or something equally brazen and I will want to know "Why??" Why does she need these panties. What does she really get from these panties instead of a pair that says nothing? That is my concern with this sort of clothing. You don't need to wear sexy panties to feel confident or beautiful or sexy.
April 5, 2013
Holy Cow, Target! You Think I'm a Cow!
This morning I woke up and found out that Target kind of hates plus-sized women.
So, there's this Mossimo maxi dress that comes in standard sizes and plus sizes. The standard size comes in a grey color Target calls "Dark Heather Grey" and the plus size version is called "Manatee Grey."
I blew my tea out of my blow hole when I read that.
Manatee Grey?? How is this an attractive color name to begin with? How did they come up with Manatee Grey? I would love to hear the names that didn't make the cut. Was "Saggy Elephant Trunk Grey" taken? No one liked "Water Buffalo Grey?" Maybe they were going to offer this dress in different colors, but they couldn't come up with equally offensive names. What about "Big Blue Whale?" How about "Brown Cow?" Did they even consider "Beluga - Oh God, My Eyes! - White?"
Hey Girl, when you're done wearing your Manatee Grey maxi dress, can I borrow it? Because Target thinks we look about the same size.
Target swears this was not an intentional slight towards women with a little more cushion for the pushin' and the color "Manatee Grey" is one of their new colors for spring on many products in the company such as towels, rain boots, and t-shirts.
Yeah, I'm guessing only the beach towels are called Manatee Grey (because Beached Whale Grey didn't make the cut) and the hand towels are Dark Heather Grey.
So, there's this Mossimo maxi dress that comes in standard sizes and plus sizes. The standard size comes in a grey color Target calls "Dark Heather Grey" and the plus size version is called "Manatee Grey."
I blew my tea out of my blow hole when I read that.
Manatee Grey?? How is this an attractive color name to begin with? How did they come up with Manatee Grey? I would love to hear the names that didn't make the cut. Was "Saggy Elephant Trunk Grey" taken? No one liked "Water Buffalo Grey?" Maybe they were going to offer this dress in different colors, but they couldn't come up with equally offensive names. What about "Big Blue Whale?" How about "Brown Cow?" Did they even consider "Beluga - Oh God, My Eyes! - White?"
Hey Girl, when you're done wearing your Manatee Grey maxi dress, can I borrow it? Because Target thinks we look about the same size.
Target swears this was not an intentional slight towards women with a little more cushion for the pushin' and the color "Manatee Grey" is one of their new colors for spring on many products in the company such as towels, rain boots, and t-shirts.
Yeah, I'm guessing only the beach towels are called Manatee Grey (because Beached Whale Grey didn't make the cut) and the hand towels are Dark Heather Grey.
April 3, 2013
My Retirement Plan Sucks
Last night I went with some friends to hear a financial planner tell me that I'm never going to have enough money to send my kids to college or retire. No big deal, I'm sure my kids will get scholarships (because they're ah-may-zing at everything they do - there are scholarships for personality plus as well as academics, right??) and I'll die at my computer slogging away on a tell-all book about my grandchildren.
I can't remember how it came up (probably when I said I was going to curb my spending and save more money this year and everyone laughed at me), but someone asked me how my New Year's coat resolution was going.
"Huh?" I asked.
"You know. The one where you're supposed to be hanging up your coat every day. The easy one. Much easier than giving up your Target card."
Shit. I had completely forgotten about that little promise.
"Umm . . . yeah, I've kind of sucked at that this winter. I'll do better this summer - and stop shopping at Target so much so I can save for my kids' education!"
Everyone laughed at me again, because they know I can never stop shopping. They know I have an addiction. I'm so addicted to shopping that I have SIX coats thrown over my dining room chairs. SIX! Who has six coats and probably four more that are actually hung up?
Six coats and a pashmina that I wore to a wedding this weekend. Along with copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone. Let me know if you need a copy, because I just saw a coat I'd like to get and I could use the cash.
You know what? The financial planner warned us that the markets are so nuts and everything is volatile that you just can't guarantee any returns on your investments, but I figure I'm investing in the right place. There will always be a need for coats. As long as there is winter, coats will always be a strong commodity. So go ahead and invest in stocks and gold and bitcoins (why the hell didn't I invent these things??) and I'll keep investing in coats.
I can't remember how it came up (probably when I said I was going to curb my spending and save more money this year and everyone laughed at me), but someone asked me how my New Year's coat resolution was going.
"Huh?" I asked.
"You know. The one where you're supposed to be hanging up your coat every day. The easy one. Much easier than giving up your Target card."
Shit. I had completely forgotten about that little promise.
"Umm . . . yeah, I've kind of sucked at that this winter. I'll do better this summer - and stop shopping at Target so much so I can save for my kids' education!"
Everyone laughed at me again, because they know I can never stop shopping. They know I have an addiction. I'm so addicted to shopping that I have SIX coats thrown over my dining room chairs. SIX! Who has six coats and probably four more that are actually hung up?
Six coats and a pashmina that I wore to a wedding this weekend. Along with copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone. Let me know if you need a copy, because I just saw a coat I'd like to get and I could use the cash.
You know what? The financial planner warned us that the markets are so nuts and everything is volatile that you just can't guarantee any returns on your investments, but I figure I'm investing in the right place. There will always be a need for coats. As long as there is winter, coats will always be a strong commodity. So go ahead and invest in stocks and gold and bitcoins (why the hell didn't I invent these things??) and I'll keep investing in coats.
April 1, 2013
The Lady at the Self-Checkout
On Friday I realized that I had been assigned a fruit salad for Easter Sunday lunch at my mother's and all I had in the house was an over ripe banana and canned peaches. I realized I was going to have to brave the store on the Friday before a holiday. Ugh.
I grabbed my keys and my phone and told the Hubs to send reinforcements if I didn't return in an hour and I headed out the door.
I arrived at Sam's Club and was greeted by a scene that can only be described as Apocalyptic. People were throwing 20 and 30 pound hams into their carts two at a time, the bakery section was ransacked and only some random birthday cakes were left, the old ladies fighting over the few remaining bags of potatoes looked like they might pull knife, and the butter - oh God, the butter - it was gone. All gone. Not a stick left.
I quickly grabbed what I needed and tried to keep a low profile. There didn't seem to be much hoarding going on in the fresh fruit aisle, but you never know when the mob might turn on you.
I made my way to the checkout only to find the lines at every register 10 or 12 people deep. The self-checkout lines caught my eye. Those tend to move a bit faster, because the people in those lines don't usually have a shit ton that they're buying - the only danger is getting stuck behind a novice. I decided to take my chances with the self-checkout.
Almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake.
The woman in front of me was more than a novice. She was a numb skull. She had five items in her cart: milk, ham, flowers, butter (where did she find that??), and bread. It took her a solid 10 minutes to check out. She swiped her membership card to start and then read every instruction on the screen:
"Remove the scanning device and begin scanning your purchases."
"Hmm ... where is the device? What do they mean? This thing? How does it work? Do I just pull the trigger? Ack, my eyes! That laser beam kind of hurts!"
"Just scan the barcodes with it," I tried.
"Just hang on, I don't want to mess this up," she said. She started scanning. After each "beep" she would look at the screen and trace the item line with her finger: "Milk ... OK. There it is. Yeah, I think that price is right."
"Beep!!"
"Ham ... twenty pounds. Whoa! That is kind of high! I wonder if I will need that much ham? Maybe I should have gotten a smaller one. Oh well, we'll have leftovers for lunches. OK, what's next?"
"Beep!!"
"Bouquet of flowers ... Mmm ... Those smell so good! Did I scan the milk?"
"Beep!!"
"Butter ... salted ... five pounds. I should have gotten more butter. That's not going to be enough."
And then it was time for the bread. The bread is a little tricky. You must get two loaves and you scan a barcode on a picture on the counter. Even an experienced self-checker-outer can screw up the bread.
You would think that maybe I would help her out at this point. That maybe I was anxious to be on my way and I'd politely help her figure out the bread situation. But remember, she snapped at me earlier when I tried to tell her how to use the scanner.
So, nope. I've got nowhere to be. I'll just watch. I just wish I had some popcorn.
She started scanning her one loaf of bread. It would "beep," but when she'd check the display it would show an error. She'd look around sort of confused and helpless, but never once did she look to me or ask me for help. Fine, be that way!
She tried scanning about five more times before an employee finally came to check on her. "Everything OK, ma'am?" he asked.
"No. I can't get my bread to scan."
"Well, you need to do it here," he pointed to the picture of the bread. "Oh, and you need two loaves."
Wait for it ...
"I don't want to two loaves."
Boom.
"Yeah, well, you get two loaves."
"I don't want two loaves."
"I don't know what to tell you, ma'am. We sell it in a two-pack."
"Can't you just charge me for one loaf?"
"No, but you can pay for two and only take one."
"I don't want two loaves and I don't want to pay for two loaves."
"Then don't buy the bread ma'am. I'll put it back for you."
"But I need bread."
"Then go to another store."
And that's when she got mad. "I came here for groceries! I don't want to go to another store."
"I understand your frustration. We sell everything in larger sizes, ma'am. I'd be happy to run back and get you another loaf or return this one. It's your choice, but I need you to choose. There is a long line behind you."
"Forget it! I will get bread somewhere else!"
The employee swiped her loaf of bread and took off.
Now it was time to pay. "Swipe credit card or choose cash."
"Debit," she said.
"Just swipe it," I said. I was finally ready to go.
"Hold on. I need to push the 'debit' button first." She slowly and deliberately pushed the touch screen.
She swiped her card. "Bad swipe. Please swipe again." She swiped again. And again. And again. "Beep!" Finally! Success!
We waited a few seconds and nothing happened. A few more.
"Where is the receipt?" she asked. We both know they won't let you out the doors without your receipt.
"It comes out below," I said. "Is the machine out of paper?"
She looked at the screen, "Please replace scanning device correctly for receipt to print."
She hadn't hung up the scanning gun thing properly and now the receipt wouldn't print. Who knew the machine did that? I didn't. Know why? Because I've never not hung up the scanning gun properly. How does that even happen? My kids can hang it up without issue!
She jostled the scanner around a few times until it finally clicked into place and her receipt printed out and she slowly wheeled her cart out into the melee to get out the doors before someone jacked her for her butter.
I was so busy watching her show that I didn't keep track around me, but I'm guessing at least three people made it through the self-checkout line next to me while this train wreck tried to buy her five - no, now it was four - items.
I should have known better than to venture out on a day like that. Next time I will plan ahead or I will offer to bring canned peaches for lunch. I always have those on hand.
I grabbed my keys and my phone and told the Hubs to send reinforcements if I didn't return in an hour and I headed out the door.
I arrived at Sam's Club and was greeted by a scene that can only be described as Apocalyptic. People were throwing 20 and 30 pound hams into their carts two at a time, the bakery section was ransacked and only some random birthday cakes were left, the old ladies fighting over the few remaining bags of potatoes looked like they might pull knife, and the butter - oh God, the butter - it was gone. All gone. Not a stick left.
I quickly grabbed what I needed and tried to keep a low profile. There didn't seem to be much hoarding going on in the fresh fruit aisle, but you never know when the mob might turn on you.
I made my way to the checkout only to find the lines at every register 10 or 12 people deep. The self-checkout lines caught my eye. Those tend to move a bit faster, because the people in those lines don't usually have a shit ton that they're buying - the only danger is getting stuck behind a novice. I decided to take my chances with the self-checkout.
Almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake.
The woman in front of me was more than a novice. She was a numb skull. She had five items in her cart: milk, ham, flowers, butter (where did she find that??), and bread. It took her a solid 10 minutes to check out. She swiped her membership card to start and then read every instruction on the screen:
"Remove the scanning device and begin scanning your purchases."
"Hmm ... where is the device? What do they mean? This thing? How does it work? Do I just pull the trigger? Ack, my eyes! That laser beam kind of hurts!"
"Just scan the barcodes with it," I tried.
"Just hang on, I don't want to mess this up," she said. She started scanning. After each "beep" she would look at the screen and trace the item line with her finger: "Milk ... OK. There it is. Yeah, I think that price is right."
"Beep!!"
"Ham ... twenty pounds. Whoa! That is kind of high! I wonder if I will need that much ham? Maybe I should have gotten a smaller one. Oh well, we'll have leftovers for lunches. OK, what's next?"
"Beep!!"
"Bouquet of flowers ... Mmm ... Those smell so good! Did I scan the milk?"
"Beep!!"
"Butter ... salted ... five pounds. I should have gotten more butter. That's not going to be enough."
And then it was time for the bread. The bread is a little tricky. You must get two loaves and you scan a barcode on a picture on the counter. Even an experienced self-checker-outer can screw up the bread.
You would think that maybe I would help her out at this point. That maybe I was anxious to be on my way and I'd politely help her figure out the bread situation. But remember, she snapped at me earlier when I tried to tell her how to use the scanner.
So, nope. I've got nowhere to be. I'll just watch. I just wish I had some popcorn.
She started scanning her one loaf of bread. It would "beep," but when she'd check the display it would show an error. She'd look around sort of confused and helpless, but never once did she look to me or ask me for help. Fine, be that way!
She tried scanning about five more times before an employee finally came to check on her. "Everything OK, ma'am?" he asked.
"No. I can't get my bread to scan."
"Well, you need to do it here," he pointed to the picture of the bread. "Oh, and you need two loaves."
Wait for it ...
"I don't want to two loaves."
Boom.
"Yeah, well, you get two loaves."
"I don't want two loaves."
"I don't know what to tell you, ma'am. We sell it in a two-pack."
"Can't you just charge me for one loaf?"
"No, but you can pay for two and only take one."
"I don't want two loaves and I don't want to pay for two loaves."
"Then don't buy the bread ma'am. I'll put it back for you."
"But I need bread."
"Then go to another store."
And that's when she got mad. "I came here for groceries! I don't want to go to another store."
"I understand your frustration. We sell everything in larger sizes, ma'am. I'd be happy to run back and get you another loaf or return this one. It's your choice, but I need you to choose. There is a long line behind you."
"Forget it! I will get bread somewhere else!"
The employee swiped her loaf of bread and took off.
Now it was time to pay. "Swipe credit card or choose cash."
"Debit," she said.
"Just swipe it," I said. I was finally ready to go.
"Hold on. I need to push the 'debit' button first." She slowly and deliberately pushed the touch screen.
She swiped her card. "Bad swipe. Please swipe again." She swiped again. And again. And again. "Beep!" Finally! Success!
We waited a few seconds and nothing happened. A few more.
"Where is the receipt?" she asked. We both know they won't let you out the doors without your receipt.
"It comes out below," I said. "Is the machine out of paper?"
She looked at the screen, "Please replace scanning device correctly for receipt to print."
She hadn't hung up the scanning gun thing properly and now the receipt wouldn't print. Who knew the machine did that? I didn't. Know why? Because I've never not hung up the scanning gun properly. How does that even happen? My kids can hang it up without issue!
She jostled the scanner around a few times until it finally clicked into place and her receipt printed out and she slowly wheeled her cart out into the melee to get out the doors before someone jacked her for her butter.
I was so busy watching her show that I didn't keep track around me, but I'm guessing at least three people made it through the self-checkout line next to me while this train wreck tried to buy her five - no, now it was four - items.
I should have known better than to venture out on a day like that. Next time I will plan ahead or I will offer to bring canned peaches for lunch. I always have those on hand.
March 28, 2013
Victoria's Secret
Oh hell no! Victoria's Secret is out of control! Did you notice a few months ago when they did their big televised fashion show that they had Justin Bieber on there? At first it was like, Ew. What's that little girl doing on stage singing Justin Bieber songs? Isn't that kind of weird? And then I realized it was the Biebs and I thought it was still strange to have him there, because he's like barely legal. I guess maybe that's why Victoria's Secret went with an obvious homage to CandyLand. Maybe they thought it would make him feel more comfortable?
Well, now it's clear why they invited the Biebs to come. Vicky's Secret has decided that they'd like to launch a line of bras and undies aimed at the middle school crowd. Y'know, the girls trying to attract Bieber's attention. OK, actually, VS says they are aiming their marketing dollars at high school girls. (But if they catch some middle schoolers in their nets, so be it, right?) I'm sure Biebs signed on, because he's tired of getting hit on stage with cotton full-coverage panties printed with the days of the week on them.
Victoria's Secret can say all they want about how they're trying to get these products out to 16-year-olds, but I'm not buying it. And even if they were, from what I've seen, this crap isn't even appropriate for a 30-year-old.
Of course, I think the middle schoolers would like more choices than rainbows and My Little Ponies, but this is the same company that enjoys branding our daughter's slouchy sweatpants with the PINK logo across their asses. Why am I not reassured that their bras and panties for young girls are going to be any better than this shit?
Oh I know what's better: a lace trimmed thong with the words "Call Me" emblazoned across her cooch. Are you fucking kidding me?? For my kid? Sorry, kid. Looks like it's cotton grannies with unicorns and snowflakes for you still.
As much as I'd like to, I really can't blame Victoria's Secret though. That's just what they do. They're in the business to make money and find more and more consumers for their cheeksters and thongs - even if their new consumers barely have enough cheeks yet to fill them. I blame the parents of the young girls who are buying this shit. Where are the parents when these girls are buying "Wild" panties? Updating their Facebook status? ("Shopping for some new undies for Ahlyssah. Cheetah print thong or zebra cheeksters. Decisions, decisions! She's growing up so fast!") Or are the moms getting a matching pair too? ("Call Me" for Kassidee and "Wild" for Mommy.)
WTF, young ladies?? No self-respecting young woman should have "I Dare You" on her ass. (Or is that the front? Who can tell??) What exactly are you daring us to do? What about "Too Hot" on her crotch? That sounds like a medical condition you should get checked out, because it's definitely not the amount of material in those panties that's making you hot.
I could rant and rave all day long about this, but instead, I'll let Baby Sideburns do the talking for me, she sums up my feelings perfectly:
I am so tired of manufacturers making products that make my daughter look like a skank. Why do parents keep buying this stuff? It is hard enough raising a daughter in this world without hooker heels for elementary school girls and padded bras for middle schoolers and thongs that say "Feeling Lucky" for high schoolers. We don't do it to our sons. There isn't a marble sack we can buy for him that says "Text Me" or boxer briefs that say "Up For Fun."
Ugh. These manufacturers get bolder every year. By the time Adolpha is in high school, I'm guessing Victoria's Secret will have panties that say, "Poke Me."
Well, now it's clear why they invited the Biebs to come. Vicky's Secret has decided that they'd like to launch a line of bras and undies aimed at the middle school crowd. Y'know, the girls trying to attract Bieber's attention. OK, actually, VS says they are aiming their marketing dollars at high school girls. (But if they catch some middle schoolers in their nets, so be it, right?) I'm sure Biebs signed on, because he's tired of getting hit on stage with cotton full-coverage panties printed with the days of the week on them.
Victoria's Secret can say all they want about how they're trying to get these products out to 16-year-olds, but I'm not buying it. And even if they were, from what I've seen, this crap isn't even appropriate for a 30-year-old.
Of course, I think the middle schoolers would like more choices than rainbows and My Little Ponies, but this is the same company that enjoys branding our daughter's slouchy sweatpants with the PINK logo across their asses. Why am I not reassured that their bras and panties for young girls are going to be any better than this shit?
Oh I know what's better: a lace trimmed thong with the words "Call Me" emblazoned across her cooch. Are you fucking kidding me?? For my kid? Sorry, kid. Looks like it's cotton grannies with unicorns and snowflakes for you still.
As much as I'd like to, I really can't blame Victoria's Secret though. That's just what they do. They're in the business to make money and find more and more consumers for their cheeksters and thongs - even if their new consumers barely have enough cheeks yet to fill them. I blame the parents of the young girls who are buying this shit. Where are the parents when these girls are buying "Wild" panties? Updating their Facebook status? ("Shopping for some new undies for Ahlyssah. Cheetah print thong or zebra cheeksters. Decisions, decisions! She's growing up so fast!") Or are the moms getting a matching pair too? ("Call Me" for Kassidee and "Wild" for Mommy.)
WTF, young ladies?? No self-respecting young woman should have "I Dare You" on her ass. (Or is that the front? Who can tell??) What exactly are you daring us to do? What about "Too Hot" on her crotch? That sounds like a medical condition you should get checked out, because it's definitely not the amount of material in those panties that's making you hot.
I could rant and rave all day long about this, but instead, I'll let Baby Sideburns do the talking for me, she sums up my feelings perfectly:
I am so tired of manufacturers making products that make my daughter look like a skank. Why do parents keep buying this stuff? It is hard enough raising a daughter in this world without hooker heels for elementary school girls and padded bras for middle schoolers and thongs that say "Feeling Lucky" for high schoolers. We don't do it to our sons. There isn't a marble sack we can buy for him that says "Text Me" or boxer briefs that say "Up For Fun."
Ugh. These manufacturers get bolder every year. By the time Adolpha is in high school, I'm guessing Victoria's Secret will have panties that say, "Poke Me."
March 26, 2013
New Zealand Mum Who Left Her Baby in the Car
Did you hear about the mother in New Zealand who left her sleeping newborn alone in the car while she ran errands? Yeah. She really did that. She left a note on the baby's chest that said, "My mum's in doing the shopping, call her if I need anything," (it also listed the mom's cell number). Several people noticed the baby snoozing in the car and rather than calling the police, they waited a bit and when the mother didn't return right away, they called her and told her to come back.
Apparently they felt sorry for the mom and thought she must have made a bad decision due to her exhaustion from having a newborn.
Umm ... wow. Really?
Hey, I don't even have a newborn and I'm tired, but as much as I would love a break, I still can't leave my kids locked in the car with a note (written all cutesy from their perspective) while I take my time browsing the aisles of Target. Actually, my kids are old enough to write that note for me and I still can't leave them alone. Nope, I have to drag my kids into the store and subject everyone around us to their whines for food and their pleas for toys. If I'm not in the mood to tackle shopping with and extra 90 lbs of annoying kids hanging on me, then I pawn them off on the Hubs. I plan my shopping for when he's home and he can watch them. I call my mom or a friend and ask them to keep them for a bit. I don't tape a note to the window of my car that says, "We ate everything in the house and so our mom is getting the groceries. Please call her if you see that she didn't crack the window enough or if we're being stolen by a creeper. Thanks!"
WTH, lady?? Even though I'm wiped out, I always make sure that my kids are safe. That's what parents do. We signed up for this. We chose this life. We're all tired and we're all begging for a moment of peace and quiet, but we know it can't be at the expense of our kids' safety. We are responsible for these little people. We're raising human beings, not puppies! When you go out, you can't leave them locked in the car, or home in a crate. You can't feed them scraps from the table, or tie them to a tree when they pee on your floor or chew something up.
I don't think for a minute this woman did this because she was exhausted or whatever. That note is way too cute to be written in a moment of desperation. It's almost like something totes adorbs she found on Pinterest. No, a worn out mom would have written, "Need milk. Baby's asleep. You wake it, you take it."
Nah, I'm not buying it. She just didn't want to lug that giant baby carrier and all the other crap a baby requires around the store.
I'm not saying this mom ranks up with there with the mom who abandoned her kid in the cart after she ran from security when she tried to steal a bathing suit from Wal-Mart and then was caught later that night partying at a night club while her kid was in emergency foster care. That mom is a terrible mom. This mom is just a dumb one who was lucky I didn't see her kid in the car.
Apparently they felt sorry for the mom and thought she must have made a bad decision due to her exhaustion from having a newborn.
Umm ... wow. Really?
Hey, I don't even have a newborn and I'm tired, but as much as I would love a break, I still can't leave my kids locked in the car with a note (written all cutesy from their perspective) while I take my time browsing the aisles of Target. Actually, my kids are old enough to write that note for me and I still can't leave them alone. Nope, I have to drag my kids into the store and subject everyone around us to their whines for food and their pleas for toys. If I'm not in the mood to tackle shopping with and extra 90 lbs of annoying kids hanging on me, then I pawn them off on the Hubs. I plan my shopping for when he's home and he can watch them. I call my mom or a friend and ask them to keep them for a bit. I don't tape a note to the window of my car that says, "We ate everything in the house and so our mom is getting the groceries. Please call her if you see that she didn't crack the window enough or if we're being stolen by a creeper. Thanks!"
WTH, lady?? Even though I'm wiped out, I always make sure that my kids are safe. That's what parents do. We signed up for this. We chose this life. We're all tired and we're all begging for a moment of peace and quiet, but we know it can't be at the expense of our kids' safety. We are responsible for these little people. We're raising human beings, not puppies! When you go out, you can't leave them locked in the car, or home in a crate. You can't feed them scraps from the table, or tie them to a tree when they pee on your floor or chew something up.
I don't think for a minute this woman did this because she was exhausted or whatever. That note is way too cute to be written in a moment of desperation. It's almost like something totes adorbs she found on Pinterest. No, a worn out mom would have written, "Need milk. Baby's asleep. You wake it, you take it."
Nah, I'm not buying it. She just didn't want to lug that giant baby carrier and all the other crap a baby requires around the store.
I'm not saying this mom ranks up with there with the mom who abandoned her kid in the cart after she ran from security when she tried to steal a bathing suit from Wal-Mart and then was caught later that night partying at a night club while her kid was in emergency foster care. That mom is a terrible mom. This mom is just a dumb one who was lucky I didn't see her kid in the car.
March 25, 2013
The Costume Designers at Mad Men Need to Keep Their Hands Off Jon's Family Jewels
So, it has come to my attention that Jon Hamm is a bit famous for going . . . uh . . . commando.
That almost looks uncomfortable. Does stick to his leg when it's hot out?
How did I miss this memo up until now? I am a huuuuuge fan of Mad Men and Jonny, in particular. In case you didn't know, he's on my List. Y'know, my List. (For the slower folks at home, my List is the list of celebrities the Hubs has given me a free pass for in the event I can actually get them drunk enough to hook up with me.)
Doesn't everyone have a List? I know the Hubs does. But the Hubs isn't very bright. He puts women like Salma Hayek and Charlize Theron on his list. These are girls who have never once even been to our neck of the woods, nor could they find it on a map! But when you pick someone like Jon Hamm, you have a fighting chance:
1. He's from St. Louis. Hellooo, I just went to St. Louis. I could have totally bumped into him at the Arch while he was there visiting with family and we could have shared a space aged pod together.
2. St. Louis is so close to Kansas City that he's bonded with several of our local break out stars like Paul Rudd and now he comes to KC every once in a while for charity gigs and such. I could easily buy a thousand dollar ticket to one of these events and bump into him in the coat closet. Repeatedly.
3. He's been on 30 Rock several times now and so I know he's tight with my BFF Tina Fey and all I'd have to do is casually mention over our deli sandwich lunch that I'd love some one on one time with Jon, and she could be like, "Oh hey, he's crashing at my apartment this week, because he's the guest host on SNL. Here's the key, knock yourself out, girl! By the way, he's a sloppy kisser, but who cares, amiright?"
OK, so as you can see, I know a lot about Jon. That's why I was so surprised to find out he likes to go free balling. I found several articles about his package and how this season on Mad Men the costumes are getting tighter and they've asked Jon to reign in his twig and berries so that the ladies at home can be thoroughly disappointed - I mean, won't be distracted - and can follow the plot line.
Twig and berries?? More like baby arm and bocce balls.
This is so unfair Mad Men. Release the Hamm bone! Unless you're going to put a smock on Christina Hendrix, I demand you leave Jon's junk just where it is - practically slapping against his knee!
So, you now know this meaty man is on my List, who's on yours?
That almost looks uncomfortable. Does stick to his leg when it's hot out?
How did I miss this memo up until now? I am a huuuuuge fan of Mad Men and Jonny, in particular. In case you didn't know, he's on my List. Y'know, my List. (For the slower folks at home, my List is the list of celebrities the Hubs has given me a free pass for in the event I can actually get them drunk enough to hook up with me.)
Doesn't everyone have a List? I know the Hubs does. But the Hubs isn't very bright. He puts women like Salma Hayek and Charlize Theron on his list. These are girls who have never once even been to our neck of the woods, nor could they find it on a map! But when you pick someone like Jon Hamm, you have a fighting chance:
1. He's from St. Louis. Hellooo, I just went to St. Louis. I could have totally bumped into him at the Arch while he was there visiting with family and we could have shared a space aged pod together.
2. St. Louis is so close to Kansas City that he's bonded with several of our local break out stars like Paul Rudd and now he comes to KC every once in a while for charity gigs and such. I could easily buy a thousand dollar ticket to one of these events and bump into him in the coat closet. Repeatedly.
3. He's been on 30 Rock several times now and so I know he's tight with my BFF Tina Fey and all I'd have to do is casually mention over our deli sandwich lunch that I'd love some one on one time with Jon, and she could be like, "Oh hey, he's crashing at my apartment this week, because he's the guest host on SNL. Here's the key, knock yourself out, girl! By the way, he's a sloppy kisser, but who cares, amiright?"
OK, so as you can see, I know a lot about Jon. That's why I was so surprised to find out he likes to go free balling. I found several articles about his package and how this season on Mad Men the costumes are getting tighter and they've asked Jon to reign in his twig and berries so that the ladies at home can be thoroughly disappointed - I mean, won't be distracted - and can follow the plot line.
Twig and berries?? More like baby arm and bocce balls.
This is so unfair Mad Men. Release the Hamm bone! Unless you're going to put a smock on Christina Hendrix, I demand you leave Jon's junk just where it is - practically slapping against his knee!
So, you now know this meaty man is on my List, who's on yours?
March 24, 2013
Weekly Wrap Up 3.24.13
I'm suffering from deja vu. In February we had a long break from school and then just when it was time to go back BAM! we got hit with a snowstorm and the kids had a bunch more days off from school. This week was Spring Break. The kids are supposed to go back to school tomorrow. Guess what came last night?? Yup. Lots and lots of snow and still more on the way. I did not get enough milk!
I know, I know. For those of you in Minnesota and Upstate New York and Canada and Russia, this seems silly, but this is Kansas. We don't do a whole lot of snow. We do tornadoes.
This week I received an email from someone claiming to be my friend who had a little "constructive criticism" for me. Then she went on for several paragraphs about how I'm "losing her," because I've become a shameless self promoter who talks about nothing except my books and that my posts are getting dark because I blogged so much about my phobias this week. And, oh yeah, my blog is ugly and it would be great if I could take all of that book money I'm earning and redesign it so it's pretty to look at. And she ended it with the fact that I could "take" or "leave" her advice, because she was "just sayin'." Ugh. Just sayin' is the absolute worst.
When I read this email, I went through a range of emotions. The first was, "Are you for real?" to "Wow, that was harsh and a bit undeserved" to "OK, really? Now, I'm just irritated."
I'm irritated, because this is not how a "friend" acts. This kind of behavior is exactly the sort of rudeness I rail against. We are not "friends" if you tell me I suck. This is not what a friend does. A friend supports another friend - even when you think I suck. A friend would send me an email that said:
Hey Jen, congratulations on your new book. Wow. A best seller in less than two weeks, huh? Fucking amazing. I'm so happy for you and so proud of what you and your friends have accomplished. This just proves to me that when women get together and support one another they can really do anything! I can't wait to get my copy and share the word with my friends who could use a good laugh. Also, I was wondering. Is everything OK with you lately? It seems like that trip to St. Louis kind of screwed with you. Who knew you were so afraid of small, dark spaces? If you need to talk, I'm here for you. I know your birthday and your two year blogging anniversary are coming up and I was wondering if you had anything special planned for the blog? Wouldn't it be cool if you did a whole re-design of it? I have lots of friends who are affordable web designers that could probably help you if you ever decided to change it. Just let me know. That's what friends are for!
See how much better that was? That's how you treat a friend. You don't tell a friend, "Your ass looks big in those leggings, just sayin'." Because that is basically what this person did. No. You say, "Hey friend, I loved how great your ass looked the other day when you wore those cute jeans. Why don't you wear those tonight instead of those leggings?"
I don't know if I've made it clear or not, but I enjoy writing on my crappy looking blog (I think that the fact that it's ugly is part of its charm). I write about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's small, dark passages in a kids' "museum," sometimes it's celebrities who eat their own placentas, sometimes it's men who want to control my reproductive rights, sometimes it's overachievers ruining Valentine's Day, and sometimes it's me being an idiot. I will continue to write on this blog about whatever catches my eye and I will continue to write books.
I try to walk a very fine line between tooting my own horn and looking like an asshole, but let's face it, I'm kind of an asshole. I have been from day one. I've never tried to pretend like I'm not. If I don't promote myself, who will? I've never been a humble bragger. I am just straight up braggadocious. And you know what? I'm excited! I have had two books now that have been best sellers. That's a big damn deal to someone who is trying to call herself a writer. Of course I'm going to talk about them! Why wouldn't I? Anyone would. I wonder if this woman has a best selling book? Just sayin'.
Now. Let's forget her and move on to some more shameless self promotion to really piss her off:
If you live in the Kansas City area then you have two opportunities to come out and see me! I've created two Events on the Facebook page where you can RSVP and get the details.
Book Signing at Mommy Shop - April 27 from 10 am to 12 pm I will be signing copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park with my Bic Lady Pen. I will be joined by my co-authors, Tara of You Know it Happens at Your House Too and Stacey of Nurse Mommy Laughs. Mommy Shop is putting on a bit of a to-do. They'll have mimosas and muffins and swag bags if you're one of the first to arrive. Please come and see us so that we're not sitting there all alone getting drunk on all of those mimosas. Please RSVP so we know how many to expect.
Listen to Your Mother - May 11 from 7 pm to 9 pm I will be appearing live and on stage at the Unity Temple on the Plaza in a fancy new pair of Crocs. There are several writers who will be reading that night and I'm not sure what they have in store, but I will be reading something hilarious and funny, so be sure to wear your Depends. I will be terrified, so I'll probably wear Depends too, just in case. I'm also thinking that if there is any interest, I'll plan an after the performance get together on the Plaza. Like another Friend's Night thing. You can buy your tickets to LTYM here.
I Just Want to Pee Alone is still available for sale (nope, I didn't stop selling it after my friend told me I talked about it too much). Do you have your copy yet? Still on the fence? Here are a couple of reviews to check out to help you make up your mind:
Crappy Pictures
When Crazy Meets Exhaustion
The Sweet Chick's book review
And this happened this week:
Swoon.
I met The Bloggess and gushed like a freaking fan girl. I practically cried. I waited for three hours to get her signature (but it was fine, because I was kid-free and I brought a book to read - bliss). She is a rock star and an inspiration to funny women everywhere. I also managed to slip a copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone into her hands for a little light reading for her plane ride home.
Top Read Posts This Week:
This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us - I can't decide if this place is fun or a torture chamber.
Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch - The next time a troll tells me I don't love my kids, I will refer them to this post.
Why I Don't Want Another Baby - I love babies, but I love them more when they're someone else's.
Companies Who Think Women are Dolts - First there were lady pens and now toy companies think women don't know how to play with cars.
My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):
I went up with me husband, our 4 month old, and some random other couple. We JUST get in and my son messes his diaper- big time, to this day it was still the worst diaper blowout ever. Trapped in a pod...my hubs says oh gonna change him? How is that going to work, we are shoved in here T2A with complete strangers...excuse me we haven't met, is it okay if I stretch my sons poop smeared legs across your lap while I clean him up? Oh no? We sat there in silence as we SLOWWWWLY crept up the arch and the smell crept crept up our nostrils. When the door opened the other couple busted out of there like there was a fire. Welcome to St. Louis ya'll! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
I think that you've got the theme for your next book started! "Move Over - I Think I'm Gonna Hurl!: Stories of Family Trips in America" Should be a best seller, based on this start! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
You know when you look out those windows on the way up and there is that rickety staircase just in case of power failure or whatever? Well, about 20 years ago, I had to get OUT of one of those stupid cars about 2/3 of the way up and WALK DOWN. I was sure that I was going to die - fireman help or not. (Power outage - they let us out after nearly 45 minutes of sitting there in the dark). Never. ever. again. on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
That sounds like a place I could say to my husband - "Hey - I heard about this awesome thing in St. Louis. Maybe you and the little man should have a guys' weekend." Then I would do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hmmmmm on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
While I can relate to the phobia's, I LOVE the City Museum and so do my kids. It is one of the coolest places in the world. You will never see anything like it again. And please tell me you found 10 story slide...and the bar. You know they sell booze there, right?!? on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
Sadly, I did not know this. This is why they need a damn map!!
Jesus, sounds and looks like something from the set of "Escape From New York." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
Thanks for the review, now I know where to take my husband when I'm ready for him to die. That would definitely kill him "naturally." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
It doesn't come pre-loaded with the Period Tracker app? Assholes. And, if I had been invited to the Hot Wheels Training Whateverthefeck Thing, I would've just sat there, running the cars into my head and asking them why they have to make things so complicated. Assholes. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
If I had been a blogger and been invited, I might have gone. Just to embarrass them (and myself, probably). I'd have the car wheels-up, then look to the closest man "Mine's broken. Could a big strong man like you help widdle biddy ol' me? What? Those round things go on the ground? That's so smart. Are you a doctor?" on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
Barbara the Builder! She would have a spatula and a glue gun. Also a mirror b/c a lady should look her best. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
I would love to get down on the floor with little Nathan Jr. to play vroom vroom but I'm wearing my ePad Femme. It's highly absorbent but makes it hard to sit down. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
Oh man! Her Wheelz? Don't just give away those golden ideas for nuttin' yo! that shit is brilliant! onCompanies Who Think Women are Dolts
The trademark is in the works!
I know, I know. For those of you in Minnesota and Upstate New York and Canada and Russia, this seems silly, but this is Kansas. We don't do a whole lot of snow. We do tornadoes.
This week I received an email from someone claiming to be my friend who had a little "constructive criticism" for me. Then she went on for several paragraphs about how I'm "losing her," because I've become a shameless self promoter who talks about nothing except my books and that my posts are getting dark because I blogged so much about my phobias this week. And, oh yeah, my blog is ugly and it would be great if I could take all of that book money I'm earning and redesign it so it's pretty to look at. And she ended it with the fact that I could "take" or "leave" her advice, because she was "just sayin'." Ugh. Just sayin' is the absolute worst.
When I read this email, I went through a range of emotions. The first was, "Are you for real?" to "Wow, that was harsh and a bit undeserved" to "OK, really? Now, I'm just irritated."
I'm irritated, because this is not how a "friend" acts. This kind of behavior is exactly the sort of rudeness I rail against. We are not "friends" if you tell me I suck. This is not what a friend does. A friend supports another friend - even when you think I suck. A friend would send me an email that said:
Hey Jen, congratulations on your new book. Wow. A best seller in less than two weeks, huh? Fucking amazing. I'm so happy for you and so proud of what you and your friends have accomplished. This just proves to me that when women get together and support one another they can really do anything! I can't wait to get my copy and share the word with my friends who could use a good laugh. Also, I was wondering. Is everything OK with you lately? It seems like that trip to St. Louis kind of screwed with you. Who knew you were so afraid of small, dark spaces? If you need to talk, I'm here for you. I know your birthday and your two year blogging anniversary are coming up and I was wondering if you had anything special planned for the blog? Wouldn't it be cool if you did a whole re-design of it? I have lots of friends who are affordable web designers that could probably help you if you ever decided to change it. Just let me know. That's what friends are for!
See how much better that was? That's how you treat a friend. You don't tell a friend, "Your ass looks big in those leggings, just sayin'." Because that is basically what this person did. No. You say, "Hey friend, I loved how great your ass looked the other day when you wore those cute jeans. Why don't you wear those tonight instead of those leggings?"
I don't know if I've made it clear or not, but I enjoy writing on my crappy looking blog (I think that the fact that it's ugly is part of its charm). I write about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's small, dark passages in a kids' "museum," sometimes it's celebrities who eat their own placentas, sometimes it's men who want to control my reproductive rights, sometimes it's overachievers ruining Valentine's Day, and sometimes it's me being an idiot. I will continue to write on this blog about whatever catches my eye and I will continue to write books.
I try to walk a very fine line between tooting my own horn and looking like an asshole, but let's face it, I'm kind of an asshole. I have been from day one. I've never tried to pretend like I'm not. If I don't promote myself, who will? I've never been a humble bragger. I am just straight up braggadocious. And you know what? I'm excited! I have had two books now that have been best sellers. That's a big damn deal to someone who is trying to call herself a writer. Of course I'm going to talk about them! Why wouldn't I? Anyone would. I wonder if this woman has a best selling book? Just sayin'.
Now. Let's forget her and move on to some more shameless self promotion to really piss her off:
If you live in the Kansas City area then you have two opportunities to come out and see me! I've created two Events on the Facebook page where you can RSVP and get the details.
Book Signing at Mommy Shop - April 27 from 10 am to 12 pm I will be signing copies of I Just Want to Pee Alone at the Mommy Shop in Overland Park with my Bic Lady Pen. I will be joined by my co-authors, Tara of You Know it Happens at Your House Too and Stacey of Nurse Mommy Laughs. Mommy Shop is putting on a bit of a to-do. They'll have mimosas and muffins and swag bags if you're one of the first to arrive. Please come and see us so that we're not sitting there all alone getting drunk on all of those mimosas. Please RSVP so we know how many to expect.
Listen to Your Mother - May 11 from 7 pm to 9 pm I will be appearing live and on stage at the Unity Temple on the Plaza in a fancy new pair of Crocs. There are several writers who will be reading that night and I'm not sure what they have in store, but I will be reading something hilarious and funny, so be sure to wear your Depends. I will be terrified, so I'll probably wear Depends too, just in case. I'm also thinking that if there is any interest, I'll plan an after the performance get together on the Plaza. Like another Friend's Night thing. You can buy your tickets to LTYM here.
I Just Want to Pee Alone is still available for sale (nope, I didn't stop selling it after my friend told me I talked about it too much). Do you have your copy yet? Still on the fence? Here are a couple of reviews to check out to help you make up your mind:
Crappy Pictures
When Crazy Meets Exhaustion
The Sweet Chick's book review
And this happened this week:
Swoon.
I met The Bloggess and gushed like a freaking fan girl. I practically cried. I waited for three hours to get her signature (but it was fine, because I was kid-free and I brought a book to read - bliss). She is a rock star and an inspiration to funny women everywhere. I also managed to slip a copy of I Just Want to Pee Alone into her hands for a little light reading for her plane ride home.
Top Read Posts This Week:
This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us - I can't decide if this place is fun or a torture chamber.
Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch - The next time a troll tells me I don't love my kids, I will refer them to this post.
Why I Don't Want Another Baby - I love babies, but I love them more when they're someone else's.
Companies Who Think Women are Dolts - First there were lady pens and now toy companies think women don't know how to play with cars.
My Favorite Comments (and My Replies if Necessary):
I went up with me husband, our 4 month old, and some random other couple. We JUST get in and my son messes his diaper- big time, to this day it was still the worst diaper blowout ever. Trapped in a pod...my hubs says oh gonna change him? How is that going to work, we are shoved in here T2A with complete strangers...excuse me we haven't met, is it okay if I stretch my sons poop smeared legs across your lap while I clean him up? Oh no? We sat there in silence as we SLOWWWWLY crept up the arch and the smell crept crept up our nostrils. When the door opened the other couple busted out of there like there was a fire. Welcome to St. Louis ya'll! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
I think that you've got the theme for your next book started! "Move Over - I Think I'm Gonna Hurl!: Stories of Family Trips in America" Should be a best seller, based on this start! on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
You know when you look out those windows on the way up and there is that rickety staircase just in case of power failure or whatever? Well, about 20 years ago, I had to get OUT of one of those stupid cars about 2/3 of the way up and WALK DOWN. I was sure that I was going to die - fireman help or not. (Power outage - they let us out after nearly 45 minutes of sitting there in the dark). Never. ever. again. on Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
That sounds like a place I could say to my husband - "Hey - I heard about this awesome thing in St. Louis. Maybe you and the little man should have a guys' weekend." Then I would do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hmmmmm on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
While I can relate to the phobia's, I LOVE the City Museum and so do my kids. It is one of the coolest places in the world. You will never see anything like it again. And please tell me you found 10 story slide...and the bar. You know they sell booze there, right?!? on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
Sadly, I did not know this. This is why they need a damn map!!
Jesus, sounds and looks like something from the set of "Escape From New York." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
Thanks for the review, now I know where to take my husband when I'm ready for him to die. That would definitely kill him "naturally." on This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
It doesn't come pre-loaded with the Period Tracker app? Assholes. And, if I had been invited to the Hot Wheels Training Whateverthefeck Thing, I would've just sat there, running the cars into my head and asking them why they have to make things so complicated. Assholes. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
If I had been a blogger and been invited, I might have gone. Just to embarrass them (and myself, probably). I'd have the car wheels-up, then look to the closest man "Mine's broken. Could a big strong man like you help widdle biddy ol' me? What? Those round things go on the ground? That's so smart. Are you a doctor?" on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
Barbara the Builder! She would have a spatula and a glue gun. Also a mirror b/c a lady should look her best. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
I would love to get down on the floor with little Nathan Jr. to play vroom vroom but I'm wearing my ePad Femme. It's highly absorbent but makes it hard to sit down. on Companies Who Think Women are Dolts
Oh man! Her Wheelz? Don't just give away those golden ideas for nuttin' yo! that shit is brilliant! onCompanies Who Think Women are Dolts
The trademark is in the works!
March 20, 2013
Just in Case I Wasn't Feeling Crazy Enough, We Decided to Go to the Arch
As if crawling through small, dark spaces wasn't enough, the next day of our St. Louis Spring Break Extravaganza was spent touring the Arch.
What is the deal with St. Louis and tiny spaces?!
I remember touring the Arch when I was probably 10 or so. My family was doing that whole Griswold drive across America thing and we stopped at the Arch. That was when I first realized that I'm a bit claustrophobic. I can ride in a crowded elevator no problem, but put me in a space-aged pod that I can't even stand up in and send me up sideways to the top of the Arch and I just might freak the hell out.
I was so traumatized by that trip that when the Hubs suggested we take the kids up to the top of the Arch this weekend, I refused to go. "Hell no!" I said.
He reminded me that the day before he had graciously wedged himself into biohazard areas while I remained a safe distance at all times. "You owe me," he said. "I can't do that one by myself."
That's when I wished the Hubs was a doctor and could write me a 'script for Xanax. I don't take drugs, but I think Xanax or Valium would have been a tremendous help on our trip. Instead, I gulped down a Power Bar and psyched myself up for a 2 minute ride in a tin can.
I have to say, that in the 30 years since I last visited the Arch, they've done some improvements for the scaredy-cats like myself. There is now an elevator car in the lobby that you can climb into and see how you'll fit. (We all tried it out and even with our heavy winter coats it was still roomy - thank goodness, I've been working out!) They've added glass panels to the doors so that can see out. This doesn't sound like much, but it's so much more reassuring when you're bumping along to see the bend of the Arch and know that's why you're swinging and clunking. They've painted the interior white. I'm not sure what color it was before, for some reason I want to say yellow, but whatever it was, I remember feeling closed in. The white helps it feel much more open.
We bought our tickets and we were waiting on line when I almost puked from terror. I had been doing so well up until that point. The kids and I were exploring the museum part and reading the want ads from the 1800s for cattle wranglers and solicitors when the elevators arrived. We were reminded to stay to the right so the people exiting could get off. We moved over and the doors opened and a woman who was not a small woman burst through the opening and exclaimed, "Oh my God that was tight! Get me outta here." I thought, Hmm, she's a little bigger than me. Was it really that bad? And then four more adults who were bigger than her exited the car behind her!
Who loads up a car like that?? What is wrong with the people who work at the Arch?? I could feel my Power Bar threatening to come back up.
Just then a worker came up to us and asked how many were in our party. "Four," the Hubs replied.
"The car holds five," she replied and then called out, "Any singles? Any single riders?"
Shut up, woman!! Shut up!! We practiced getting into the elevator with the four of us, we never planned for a fifth! Shut up!
Luckily most people were in twos so we were able to ride up just the four us. Because the kids are still so small, we fit pretty well and it wasn't so bad.
Then we got to the top. Crap. I'd forgotten about the top. How hot and stale it is up there. How crowded it is and itsy bitsy windows. I'd forgotten how the floor is on a slant and you can feel the monument swaying in the wind.
Source
The Hubs went off on his own to look out the windows and take pictures while the kids and I sort of hovered near the exit with wild eyes. I could see that my fear was being projected on them and I couldn't scar them for life the same way I'd been scarred. "Let's look out a window!" I said, trying to sound excited. "I bet we can see far!" The kids calmed down and I pushed my Power Bar back into my stomach and we looked out the windows. After ten minutes of looking out windows and feeling the breeze move us, the kids and I were ready to go back down. The Hubs wanted to stay longer and take more pictures (he is Asian, after all). "Suit yourself, we'll see you at the bottom!" I yelled as I herded the kids to the elevators.
"How many?" the attendant asked.
"Three," I said.
"Go down to that elevator and join that party of two," she said.
I looked to where she was pointing. Two full sized adults looking to gobble my air supply and encroach into my personal area. They sized me up with equal apprehension. "Uhhh. . . we'd like to be in our own car," I said.
"Sorry, ma'am. We're very full up here and we need to keep the elevators full doing down."
"OK," I said. We joined the party of two.
Suddenly, the Hubs saved me. "Ma'am, you didn't tell me there was fourth," the attendant said. The Hubs was standing beside her.
"Yes! My husband!"
"OK, well now you get your own elevator."
"Thank you, Hubs!" I said to him.
"I didn't want you to go alone," he said.
Aww. The Hubs loves me even when I'm crazy. (OK, now I really am going to throw up that Power Bar!)
What is the deal with St. Louis and tiny spaces?!
I remember touring the Arch when I was probably 10 or so. My family was doing that whole Griswold drive across America thing and we stopped at the Arch. That was when I first realized that I'm a bit claustrophobic. I can ride in a crowded elevator no problem, but put me in a space-aged pod that I can't even stand up in and send me up sideways to the top of the Arch and I just might freak the hell out.
I was so traumatized by that trip that when the Hubs suggested we take the kids up to the top of the Arch this weekend, I refused to go. "Hell no!" I said.
He reminded me that the day before he had graciously wedged himself into biohazard areas while I remained a safe distance at all times. "You owe me," he said. "I can't do that one by myself."
That's when I wished the Hubs was a doctor and could write me a 'script for Xanax. I don't take drugs, but I think Xanax or Valium would have been a tremendous help on our trip. Instead, I gulped down a Power Bar and psyched myself up for a 2 minute ride in a tin can.
I have to say, that in the 30 years since I last visited the Arch, they've done some improvements for the scaredy-cats like myself. There is now an elevator car in the lobby that you can climb into and see how you'll fit. (We all tried it out and even with our heavy winter coats it was still roomy - thank goodness, I've been working out!) They've added glass panels to the doors so that can see out. This doesn't sound like much, but it's so much more reassuring when you're bumping along to see the bend of the Arch and know that's why you're swinging and clunking. They've painted the interior white. I'm not sure what color it was before, for some reason I want to say yellow, but whatever it was, I remember feeling closed in. The white helps it feel much more open.
We bought our tickets and we were waiting on line when I almost puked from terror. I had been doing so well up until that point. The kids and I were exploring the museum part and reading the want ads from the 1800s for cattle wranglers and solicitors when the elevators arrived. We were reminded to stay to the right so the people exiting could get off. We moved over and the doors opened and a woman who was not a small woman burst through the opening and exclaimed, "Oh my God that was tight! Get me outta here." I thought, Hmm, she's a little bigger than me. Was it really that bad? And then four more adults who were bigger than her exited the car behind her!
Who loads up a car like that?? What is wrong with the people who work at the Arch?? I could feel my Power Bar threatening to come back up.
Just then a worker came up to us and asked how many were in our party. "Four," the Hubs replied.
"The car holds five," she replied and then called out, "Any singles? Any single riders?"
Shut up, woman!! Shut up!! We practiced getting into the elevator with the four of us, we never planned for a fifth! Shut up!
Luckily most people were in twos so we were able to ride up just the four us. Because the kids are still so small, we fit pretty well and it wasn't so bad.
Then we got to the top. Crap. I'd forgotten about the top. How hot and stale it is up there. How crowded it is and itsy bitsy windows. I'd forgotten how the floor is on a slant and you can feel the monument swaying in the wind.
Source
The Hubs went off on his own to look out the windows and take pictures while the kids and I sort of hovered near the exit with wild eyes. I could see that my fear was being projected on them and I couldn't scar them for life the same way I'd been scarred. "Let's look out a window!" I said, trying to sound excited. "I bet we can see far!" The kids calmed down and I pushed my Power Bar back into my stomach and we looked out the windows. After ten minutes of looking out windows and feeling the breeze move us, the kids and I were ready to go back down. The Hubs wanted to stay longer and take more pictures (he is Asian, after all). "Suit yourself, we'll see you at the bottom!" I yelled as I herded the kids to the elevators.
"How many?" the attendant asked.
"Three," I said.
"Go down to that elevator and join that party of two," she said.
I looked to where she was pointing. Two full sized adults looking to gobble my air supply and encroach into my personal area. They sized me up with equal apprehension. "Uhhh. . . we'd like to be in our own car," I said.
"Sorry, ma'am. We're very full up here and we need to keep the elevators full doing down."
"OK," I said. We joined the party of two.
Suddenly, the Hubs saved me. "Ma'am, you didn't tell me there was fourth," the attendant said. The Hubs was standing beside her.
"Yes! My husband!"
"OK, well now you get your own elevator."
"Thank you, Hubs!" I said to him.
"I didn't want you to go alone," he said.
Aww. The Hubs loves me even when I'm crazy. (OK, now I really am going to throw up that Power Bar!)
March 19, 2013
This Museum Should be Called Phobias "R" Us
This week is Spring Break. We didn't
plan to go anywhere this year. I thought we could stay home and relax and just hang out without the pressures of packing and traveling. It seemed like a good idea the first
day. By the second day, I was begging the Hubs to take us somewhere - anywhere.
I had some criteria though:
Less than a 5 hour drive (I go
batty on road trips and we couldn't afford to fly anywhere since I
didn't get my act together.)
Someplace with kid-friendly
activities.
A hotel with a separate bedroom
for the kids, free wifi, free breakfast, and an indoor pool.
The Hubs came back with the following:
St. Louis – just a few hours down the
road. The kids had never been and from what he could find online,
there seemed to be a lot of stuff for them to do. He searched for a
hotel and came back with one that met one out of my four criteria:
indoor pool. “But it's a such a good deal!” he argued. Uh huh. With the Hubs he always sacrifices my wants for the sake of the "good deal."
It was the Hilton
next to the airport and Gomer couldn't have been happier. He thought
this was the “fanciest” hotel he's ever been in because it had a piano bar in the lobby with a real live person playing the piano. (He's used to
staying in those places with the do-it-yourself waffle maker and all the Nutrigrain bars you can steal in the lobby.) Also he was thrilled to be so close to
airplanes. “Look at that one! It's landing right beside us!”
Apparently, I need to take my kid to the airport a bit more often.
After an uneventful
drive (thank goodness) we headed to the City Museum. Whenever I
mentioned to friends we were going to St. Louis, everyone said, “You
must go to the City Museum. But . . .”
But what?
“It's a little .
. . crazy,” they'd say. “You have to be able to let go.”
“Let go?” I'd
ask.
“You'll see. It's
not for everyone.”
I'd seen a few
pictures online and I knew there was a huge outdoor playscape that
the kids could climb through. Maybe they meant that. It didn't seem
that bad in the pictures.
When we finally arrived and I got up close and personal with the playscape, I took a closer look at what my children were going to
climb through.
Oh. My. God.
Miles of rebar,
metal fencing, platforms, and salvaged shards of iron welded together
to form a giant human hamster run with some sharp, rusted edges, and spots
that were so small, they literally had to slide through on their
backs in a few places. That was just the outside. The inside was 600,000 square feet and had much of the same,
only the runs disappeared into the walls and ceilings and suddenly my
kids would pop up out of the floor – literally. It was insane.
I'm not quite sure why this place is called a "museum," because there isn't much there except human ant colonies. There are no maps ("Just explore!" ie, get lost). There are no signs (it took me 10 minutes to find a freaking bathroom). There are very few official looking people who look like they might be in charge.
My kids had a blast
and I slowly went crazy. I've said before that I'm not a helicopter parent,
but holy shit, this place was terrifying. I would put my child down a
rabbit hole and have no idea where he was going to pop back out. I watched kids (and adults) crawl through cages and all I could think about was, Where are the fire exits and how would I get my kids out of
here if I had to? The only thing that reassured me was that almost everything
was made of metal or concrete, so there wasn't much that would burn, but
still.
Adolpha was a
genius at finding hidden holes and disappearing underground before I
could tell her I loved her one more time.
When you arrive at
the Museum, you get a wristband that says something to the effect
that they are not responsible for any injuries or your death and oh
by the way, please put a phone number on here where we can reach you
in the event that your child gets lost. The Hubs had to stop me from
putting three phone numbers on their bracelets.
As soon as we
walked in the door, the kids found a little hole to disappear down.
The Hubs followed them. I took five steps into the pitch black and
the quickly narrowing tunnel and I started to have a panic attack. Or at
least I think it was a panic attack. I don't know. I've never
actually had one. I'm not one to get nervous by much, but small, dark
spaces or high, wide open spaces pretty much do me in. I yelled into
the tunnel, “I can't do it, Hubs! I'll see you guys at the end!”
and I backtracked before more people came along and wedged me in there.
Yup. I bailed on
the Hubs. It was like Sophie's Choice, only there wasn't a
choice. I sacrificed the Hubs. I figured he'd be better without me
freaking out.
I wandered around for a while trying to find the end of the tunnel they went down. Finally, I asked a worker where they'd pop out. She told me it might be the second or the third floor, she couldn't remember. I went up to the third floor and found two excited kids and a slightly woozy Hubs. "That was rough," he exclaimed. "It's a good thing you backed out when you did. I tried a few times, but I had people right behind me. Twice I got stuck and I wasn't sure I'd ever make it out! Oh my God, Jen!"
Oh my God is right. I think I would probably still be stuck in a dark hole somewhere in the bowels of that building if I'd gone down the hole with them. I can't imagine going to that museum if you had any sort of phobias, because this place has something for everyone:
Afraid of crowds? This place is jam-packed with people and there is no place you can go to find a quiet spot for yourself.
Afraid of losing your kids? Send them down a chute and then try to figure out where they'll pop out.
Afraid of small spaces? Crawl through this hole under the floor that warns you it gets down to only 18 inches wide.
Afraid of the dark? Jump on this pitch black slide.
Afraid of heights? Climb out on the wing of this reclaimed airplane that's several stories above the concrete ground.
Those are my kids crawling through rebar tunnels 4 stories off the ground!
Just throw a few snakes and rats down those holes and I think that will cover every fear a person might have!
This is the greatest museum ever and we can't wait to go back again when the roof deck is open this summer. Yeah, you can climb through more twisted metal on the roof - just make sure your tetanus shots are up to date!
