Chicken Dance

I can rock the chicken dance and don't let anyone tell you any different.
I also do a mean hokey pokey.

This all learned at Superson's school today.
Dance baby. Dance

Living Online

Is it strange that I have many friends I've never met? A few years ago it would have been wacky, but now...not so much.

I went for lunch last week with some fellow children's book writers I met on-line. Real live interaction. We were giggling because one of the writers had never met any of us before, except on line and her daughter warned her to be careful meeting up with us. Mostly joking.

Lucky for her we weren't a bunch of perverts hot for kidlit writers.

Don't have much worry about that happening. I feel safe with my on-line friends because they're writers like me. Looking for writer bonding. And since I happen to spend most days alone in my house tapping on my laptop, I kind of need virtual company. I like my pretend real friends.

Teens and younger kids have to be a lot more careful about friends on- line. Because there are creepos out there. And camera phones and digital cameras are everywhere. I made a lot of dumb mistakes when I was a teen. Lucky for me people didn't post the evidence on line. I got to pretend things never happened. Hard to do nowadays when embarrasing pictures or video are posted on You Tube.

We writers chatted about how much of kids lives are posted on line nowadays. It's a whole new generation. I am becoming the gap in generation gap.

Last night my son threatened to take a really bad picture of me and show it to "everyone in the world". He was joking with me... I told him that I was too old to be embarrased by things like that anymore. And for the most part, it's true. I suppose there are a few pictures I would be humiliated by. But mostly I think I'd get over it. Without too much angst.

See. There are advantages to getting older. Humility.

And good on-line friends.

And the Winner Is.

After my confession that I love celeb gossip, it's not a big surprise I had to watch the Oscars last night, is it? It is my Super Bowl. My Grey Cup. My Stanley Cup.
The Event.

So I cleared my night and plopped myself in front of the TV. Rats. I turned in too late to see the red carpet. Which was kind of my whole point for watching. But whatevs, I wouldn't let that ruin my fun.

I thought the host guy was very funny. John Stewart? Not sure, too lazy to check. Anyhow, he did a great job. Just the right amount of mockery and wit. To be honest, I didn't really care too much who won the awards, the only nominated movie I saw was Juno and it rocked.

Here's what I came away with...

Why is Jennifer Garner never seen in public, at award thingys with her husband Ben Affleck?

Daniel Day Lewis is charming and hot.

Javier whatever his last name is looks like Denny from Grey's Anatomy. Spanish is a sexy language.

Johnny Depp must be sick of getting nominated and never winning. But he looks good filling the seats, so I hope they keep nominating him. But I wish he'd win just so I could hear him talk.

My husband is so not into celeb gossip. When Penelope Cruz came on, he said, "Hey, isn't she Tom Cruise's girlfriend. " Yeah. He missed the whole, Katie, baby Suri thing.

I still love Keri Russell. Felicity. She is so cute.

Where were Brad and Angelina? She is a baby machine. Yes?

I loved the writer jokes. It made me feel kind of involved. In a really distant way. I was thinking. Hey. If YA writers were like rock stars...I'd be in a bar band. It makes perfect sense. In my mind.

Webkinz

I have the cutest boy . Not that I'm biased or anything. Nope not me.

Completely objective

That's me. J.E.

The newest trend in our world are Webkinz. If you haven't been around little kids lately, you'll know not of what I talk. But if you have little kids in about grade one or two...they are the must have accesssory. They are like designer blue jeans for teens or Lululemons for moms. Power tools for husbands. Or fancy car and vacation home competitions.



Luckily, they're not as expensive. Until you start collecting them. Superson likes to take his to school, like all the other kids do. Boys and girls. They give them names and adopt them and can play with them on the internet. Actually they're kind of cool. And is it wrong, I sometimes go to the Webkinz page by myself and play games when Superson is not around? I thought not.


It's always something. Trends come and go. Webkinz. Cabbage Patch Dolls. Tickle Me Elmo. Wii. Puma Shoes. Adidas. When I was a teen it was Rainbow Jeans. Ha ha ha. Ray Bans. Wide Leg Pants. Banana Clips. Elf Boots.

Okay. Must stop now. I'm scaring myself.

Sweet Sixteen

"Hold on to sixteen as long as you can....changes come around real soon make us women and men."

John Cougar Mellencamp. Happy Sweet Sixteen to my Niece who is having a party tonight with 80 or so of her closest friends.

Good luck to my sister, who gets to be the chaperone.

Crying Alone

You know what I really love to do? Cry.
Okay. Let 's clarify that statement. I like to cry at movies. In a movie theatre is best, I think. Alone is better.

I remember way back one hundred years or so ago when I was a single gal with no kids. I had this wonderful friend who was married with twins. Kind of weird how well we got along given our different lifestyles at the time, but we gelled. It's awesome when that happens with another person. True gelling. Doesn't happen too often, does it? Anyhow. She told me that something she really liked to do since she became a mom was go to movies by herself.

Pin drop. Me. "?"

Totally didn't get it, thought it a cute quirk. Forgot about it.

Fast forward one hundred years. Me. Ever since I had a child, I love to go to movies by myself. Love. It. Special treat. Anonymity. Don't have to talk to anyone. Can eat junk food without fear of reproval. Alone time.

Some creatures are born with a need to spend time alone. I am one of those. And it's hard to get when you're a Mom. And a wife. But every so often, I sneak off to the darkness of the movie theatre. No embarrasement whatsoever about being by myself. It would have horrified me when I was younger. Now I'm like- meh....I could go with someone if I wanted, but I CHOOSE not to. Another special bonus. If it's a crying movies. For sure only certain movies are do-able alone. ie- any Ben Stiller or Will Ferguson comedy- bad alone movie.

Today I went to see Juno. Oh. sigh. I loved it. It had so many redeeming qualities. A story well told with quirky characters. Kooky dad and step-mom. Quirky Juno and her weird boyfriend/friend. It made me laugh, squirm, cry. Cry more. I didn't like characters and then liked them. Liked them and then didn't like them. It surprised me how many emotions it brought out in me. I was sad when it ended.

Loved it. Nothing like a cathartic movie cry to clean out the bad stuff and get you back on track for real life. Yay for Juno!

Dance Like No One is Watching

Apple Bottom Jeans, Boots with the fur....

Just saw some highlights on MTV with Randy Jackson's new dance show. Man can those crazy kids DANCE. When I see real dancers cut loose, I want to be able to do that so badly. Actually, I do. So badly, that is. btw- If that makes no sense it's because I'm recovering from bronchitis/pnemonia thingy and should be in bed sleeping already, so no judging allowed.

Anyhooooooo, it made me think that one thing I really, really wanted to be when I was younger was a dancer. Not a ballerina, not that disillusioned, no- a hip hop, street dancer. Now that would probably make a lot of people laugh their asses off. Because I can't even do a cartwheel. I can keep a beat, but the fancy stuff. Um no. Unfortunately I was born with the wrong body for that career. I didn't even try to pursue it!

Anyways, it doesn't matter so much. I LOVE to dance. I don't do it so often anymore, in public I mean, because I'm like, OLD and like to be in bed early, but I used to love to go dancing. It brings me a rush of happiness and inhibition and just makes me feel GOOD.

I love listening to loud music. It drives my hub a little wonkers. But he has an aversion to dish washers so we're even. hee hee.

I'm a sucker for new pop/hip hop. I like Slo Rida and yes I will see the new dance movie that's coming out with his song all over it.

Mostly the only dancing I do now is in the basement. Alone. When I'm working out. It sounds kind of pathetic and sad, but really it's not. I have on my iPod. No one is watching and I can pretend I'm a hot twenty something again with serious moves. I like to dance in front of a mirror. Is that weird? I'm not all infatuated with myself, I guess I like to appreciate the fine moves I think I'm doing. This is beginning to border on the , "Hey, J. Too much info, okay?"so I'll stop now, before I begin to re-think my dancing alone. I don't want to take that away from myself.

J

Iron Men...

So I'm on the treadmill just now doing my teeny tiny little Body for Life Run (twenty whole minutes).

And I flip to the sports channel and the Iron Man Hawaii is on. Man.

I cried like a baby for some of those finishers. A blind Grandpa finishes, with his trainer and his grandkids holding his rope. Because being blind and all, he can't see the finish line. But he crosses it.

Then there's the girl who wins the Women's Division. Some rookie from Britan. Nine hours something. I giggle at her happiness, but admit to wondering how bad she smells when people start to hug her. Anyhow, it makes my teeny tiny run that much easier seeing all those muscular, no- body- fat people running a marathon. After swimming and cycling for however long it is you need to for a freakin' IronMan.

There's Bryan Boyle, who got hit by a dump truck and died a few times on the operating table, and then was in a two week coma or something like that. Yup. He's back and he's crossing the line after training for only a couple of months. His parents are so happy they have him back. I'm happy for them, too.

Then, there's this amazing man who doesn't have legs. But, he swims, cycles and runs anyways. He has to finish by midnight to be an official ironman. A tear slides out of my eye when after toying with me for awhile, the announcer shows him crossing the finish line, his hands raised.

Imagine how good that feels. Despite all the pain, and swimming and running and stuff.
There's women who are decades older than me. Grandmothers and Grandfathers.
Finishing an Iron Man.

Wow. That's total rockage. I am awed. I cheered out loud, all alone in the privacy of my own home. And then, I ran an extra four minutes.

That is all.

Celebs and Skinny Boyfriends

One of my shameful secrets is my addiction to celeb gossip. Okay. I guess since I'm blogging about it, it's not a secret, nor particularly shameful. To me. It horrifies the intelligence of most people I know. Like Ian. My older brother. Who never writes or calls. So there. You may be really really smart, but you sure don't give good email. Btw- You should read the book by Sherman Alexie, The Absolutely True Confessions of a Part Time Indian. You'd like.

Gah. Totally off topic. So. Yes. I'm addicted to Celeb Gossip. Case in point, I can't stop reading about BS. Ha. I just realized her initials. Poor crazy Brit Spears. I even dreamt about her once. I brought her to my house to heal her. Apparently it didn't take. I worry for her boys. They wear Paul Frank too, btw. You can only pick up yummy tidbits like if you're an addict. Like me.

I don't know when my love of pop culture started, probably when I got married, which totally sounds like a husband diss but is not. Really. My husband rocks. Just ask him. Ha ha ha. So fun to make fun of him when he can't respond. He's cool. And funny. And is kind of my sugar daddy so let's just leave him alone, shall we?

Anyhow. Back to the point, small one, I wanted to make.

I was browsing through DLISTED, my fave gossip site, and saw pictures of J Lo with her husband. And granted, she is very pregnant right now, but the pics of her with her teeny tiny little man reminded me of when I was younger and one time I dated this guy who WEIGHED less than me. It was horrible. I mean, he was super small and wore a smaller pant size. I was horrified some day I'd rip my pants or something and have to borrow a pair of his and they wouldn't do up. of course that never happened, but I really hated that. Hated it.

And since this is a shallow post about Celeb Gossip, it seems only fitting for me to remember with horror, having a boyfriend skinnier than I was. Turns out he was a jerk anyhow. Although that probably wasn't because I weighed more than him. He just was.