An author is a fool who, not content with boring those he lives with, insists on boring future generations. - Charles de Montesquieu

Shane in his head gear after surgery

A week in Paradise

Photos from our vacation in Bonita Springs, Florida. Thank you Jackie for everything and for entrusting us with your house. We loved it!!

One of the first things we did when we arrived was head to the beach to see the sunset.

The Resort (a.k.a Jackie's house)

The inside walls of Jackie's house are made up of floor to ceiling sliding glass doors so the entire house opens up to the pool. We stayed in the Cabana. The picture above is the view from our room.

Jackie's beach

The Good Life!

The next pictures are the views from Joan & Ted's condo on Marco Island.

Now back to reality...

Mr. Shane had surgery today. He is OK, but we are now waiting for the results of the biopsy. Pray for the little guy!

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This one time in L.A......

Even though I work in NYC, I haven't experienced too many celebrity sightings here. But this one time in L.A., I did have a close encounter with Ryan Seacrest.

Now theoretically, I am sure we all would like to believe that if we crossed paths with a celebrity, we would maintain our composure. After all, they are just fellow human beings like ourselves. No big deal. I mean maybe you’d try to sneak a peak through the corner of your eye. Or maybe you'd inconspicuously look over in their direction at the interesting something or other behind them... but nothing crazy.

Then on my first trip to L.A. a couple of years ago, David, Flo & Aaron took me on a one day, all-inclusive grand tour of just about anything you'd ever want to see in Los Angeles, Hollywood, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills. During this excursion, Aaron was driving, Flo was in the passenger seat, I was behind Aaron, and David was behind Flo.

So we're cruisin along and David's pointing out the local hot spots and how one time he saw so and so eating there, and this person can often be seen at that club, and there's the House of Blues... Then while looking out her window, Flo says rather nonchalantly… “Oh there’s Ryan Seacrest.”

Upon hearing this, I look over to my right and sure enough driving a black Mercedes was Ryan Seacrest. Without hesitation, I lunge over David and smack my face, and David's, on the window, all the while screaming, “Oh my gosh RYAN!” and things like that… I wasn’t even a fan, but still I was overtaken by some incredible force that rendered me unable to keep myself from acting like a crazed 14 year old groupie at a NKOTB* concert in the late 80’s. There I was, both hands plastered to the window while crushing my fiancé and screaming as if Ryan was going to hear me through both car windows and, what… respond?

I don’t know what I was thinking, clearly I wasn’t. All I know is that Ryan seemed to be trying not to notice the freak in the car next to him. But looking back… I think it would be safe to say he also appeared slightly frightened.

Ever since then… I feel like we have this connection.

Just kiddin. I don’t feel connected to Ryan Seacrest whatsoever, but I have become a fan. Now when I’m watching American Idol and he’s on, I catch myself with this goofy grin on my face…. I can’t help it.

I also wish I could say that I learned from my L.A. celebrity sighting experience and that awareness somehow taught me to be more incognito the next time around, but it hasn’t, and I wasn't. A few months later, I found myself eating lunch next to Christina Applegate and there I was, staring in aw as the poor girl tried to eat her tuna salad. At least I didn’t start screaming, that’s an improvement.

You know how they say you learn a lot about a person in a moment of crisis… well I hope it doesn't also hold true for the moment you experience your first celebrity sighting.



*NKOTB a.k.a New Kids on the Block (I was actually NOT a fan...but I was a HUGE fan of Debbie Gibson.

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A baby? Or just a good burger?

I forgot one thing that ties into the medias' obsession with actresses and their weight, particularly their midsections. The new million dollar photo is catching an actress who’s with child. I think I was watching the red carpet of some award show when they got to Halle Berry and she was asked what she thought of all the mags showing extreme close-up shots of her tummy with captions like "Halle's bump…she's pregnant!" I loved her response, (paraphrased) "I wish the paparazzi would back off and stop taking pictures of me after I've just eaten an In & Out burger."

Morning ramblings & weighty issues

I have so much to do at work today that it's a bit daunting... so to get warmed up I thought I'd write a little somethin, somethin here.

First, as if Rob Thomas isn't adorable enough AND a great performing artist (my husband will probably cringe as he reads this), he has just moved up a couple of notches on my list of great petatarians. Why? you may ask. Well, an animal shelter here in Hudson Valley known for it's "no kill" policy has recently had a run of bad luck since its director became seriously ill and was omitted to the hospital. Well, I don't know if Mr. Thomas is from around here or not, but if he is, all the more reason to love Hudson Valley. The point is, he recently made a plee on his website for his fans to support this obscure little shelter in a town that barely registers on the map. My pride for Rockland County thus swells thereby making a potential move to NJ that much more heartbreaking.

Then while driving to work today I hear PLJ talking about some Tyra Banks scandal. Personally, I don't get into pop culture. Sometimes I watch the entertainment news shows because they humor me, but other than that, I just find most of pop culture overwhelmingly fake and superficial. Two traits I have little tolerance for. (On a deeper level, I think pop culture is detrimental to women's self image, but I won't bore you with all of that.) Case in point... Tyra was photographed in a swimsuit looking more than skin and bones. This was an outrage to many, so they have posted these photos on the web criticizing her for gaining some weight. Now, the medias’ reaction is schizophrenic as usual. They can never decide where they stand on an issue, particularly when it comes to women and their weight. As if this is a newsworthy story... any given actress seems to be TOO SKINNY or NOT SKINNY ENOUGH. So killers of self esteem, please tell us women who are dying to know... what is the acceptable weight?

Now back to Tyra... PLJ played a sound bite of her emotional response to the criticism and how she has something important to say to her critics... tomorrow on the Tyra Banks Show. Oh please... the hypocrisy is making me nauseous... this is the woman who also has the America’s Next Top Model show where if you watch reruns of the 2nd season you can witness her telling a hopeful top model, who used to be quite heavy, but lost all the weight to fulfill her dreams of becoming a supermodel, that she needs to "work on her body" cause she has a few extra pounds. On the same season I believe, she can be caught telling a model that if she's serious about being a top model she needs to start "working out and watching what she eats." Now both of these girls were a size 0. Size 2 tops. So I laugh when she takes the opportunity to grab the spotlight and run with this issue, as if she hasn't perpetuated the problem herself on national television. Oh yeah… her ANTP show originally had plus-size model hopefuls on it. These girls not only never won, or made it very far in the contest, but they are no longer even on the show at all. I remember one time for a photo shoot, the girls had to run to a rack of clothes and find something to wear and the plus-sized girl found nothing even remotely in her size. So not only was she not given a chance to win, but they ridiculed her by not even giving the girl something to wear in her size. So Trya, please, spare us the water works. I'm not buying it.

My girl

Kayla

Blonde in Library

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RbG1jHewWw"

The truth be known

Right off the bat let me just confess that I do indulge in watching American Idol. And no... I am not one of those people who only watch the auditions for a good laugh and for the occasional shock factor when some kid is off the charts good. I watch from day one until the finale. Oh yes, I am a fan. And I like Simon. Now if you're still reading... here is a little tid-bit about me: There is only one thing that separates me from the worst misguided wannabee starlet ever to appear on the show and that is - awareness. I mean I truly feel for the girl who's been bitten by the fame bug and gives the judges her soulful rendition of a Christine Aguilera ballad only to hear Simon tell her she is 100% tone deaf. See I too am tone deaf.

I haven’t always been aware of my inability to sing a song in key for the life of me. Actually, loved ones let me go years blissfully ignorant of the fact (no hard feelings). It wasn’t until the 7th grade that I would learn the hard truth. You see, I moved to Syracuse the summer before the 6th grade and there really wasn’t much to do. I didn’t know anyone except for Cassie, who lived two houses down, and I soon learned that alone time would be preferred to board games and Scatagories with her, and her insane Scotty dog that had it in for me.

When school started I was looking forward to making some new friends, but as it would turnout, the other kids were a bit slow to warm up to me. And understandably so, I mean 11-13 are the super awkward years, so it’s not the most opportune time to make first impressions. So yeah, when 7th period Chorus rolled around - I was pretty much psyched. It was fun-time.

As the year moved on I slowly made friends, but they were more of the band geek type. If they had taken Chorus maybe they would have warned me. I don’t know. Kids are cruel. Well I tried out for every solo. The auditions, of course, were always in front of the entire class. Much to my disappointment, I was never given a solo. Then the next year in the 7th grade my teacher asked to speak with me after class. It was then that she asked me not to sign up for Chorus again the following year. Apparently, my teacher had high aspirations to make it to Regionals (apparently some really big competition) and I was evidently, single handedly holding the group back. In that moment – reality became crystal clear. Everything made sense now: my teacher rolling her eyes every time I auditioned; being moved from section to section clearly wasn’t because I was versatile; my church Songsters leader constantly reminding me to sing softer, and of course the fact that I was never given a solo, not even a duet.

Unlike the American Idol contestants, I didn’t start screaming at her and I didn’t give her the finger or throw a temper tantrum. I just said okay and went off to my next class. When I got home I cried at first. Then I was embarrassed. I mean that was the year Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” came out. Thinking I was quite gifted, I used to sing that with all of my heart and soul… in the car. My poor parents. My brother deserved it though. ;-)

So now… I will only sing in my car, when I’m alone. And sometimes, if I’m at a red light and I catch someone in the car next to me so much as looking at me – I’ll stop. I will sing softly in front of David, but I’m even starting to stop that because whenever I sing he always says, “what?” Not to be rude or anything. I just think he can’t tell what I’m doing and thinks I’m talking to him. I don’t know… it’s weird. I think I’ll stop.

So I have somewhat of an affinity with the American Idol contestants who suck. If it weren’t for that Chorus teacher in the 7th grade, I might of gone through life making an utter fool of myself, maybe even on national television. So my dear tone deaf challenged friends… awareness is key. If someone tells you nicely that maybe you should sing more softly… or not at all… maybe you should take their advice. :-D

Someone thinks my commute is something to laugh at...

Last week, I submitted a similar version of a post below about my commuting woes to The Journal News. My intent was to elicet reform. Well, I got a call from the editor today and apparently they thought it was... funny. Interesting. Okay, well I'll go with it. I'm a former "Writer" so being published is always cool. They tell me it will be in Wednesday's Letter to the Editor section. When I started this blog, my husband said to me, "I think you're trying to get in touch with your inner writer." Maybe he's right...

Anyway, hope I don't get booted from the bus after publically trashing the company.

O Christmas Tree!

Last night David and I finally had a few extra minutes to buy this year's Christmas Tree! I can get a bit intense around this time of year. I had a Dec. 1st deadline for getting the tree, but we didn't make it. Mainly my own fault as I enjoy spending 15 hours a week commuting. But when I'm not cheerfully hanging out on the bus for fun, I'm milking every little minute out of Christmastime I can. Last year, our obscenely fat tree stayed up until February, despite the annoyance that it would break skin whenever anyone made physical contact with it. But it didn't matter; it still looked alive, which was enough for me. So there it stayed.

This year, "the plan" was to pick out our tree during daylight hours to get a better sense of size and proportion, but that wasn't going to happen. So after GNY's Annual Luncheon and before Montclair band practice and shopping, we ventured over to Stony Point's Fire House where they seemed to have a good selection. I followed David's lead in choosing our tree since I was responsible for last year's, which I thought was beautiful, even if it was enormous and freakishly fat (the look on people's faces as they searched for what to say was classic).

Unfortunately, my perfectionist side tends to rear its ugly head when it comes time to setting up the tree. Therefore, I plead the 5th.

I also won't get into the oddity of our neighbor's guests parking in the middle of our shared driveway so that no one can come or go. What is that? Sheer laziness to walk 5 more feet? I liked being asked, "oh do we need to move?" Uhhhmm noo... my go-go gadget equipped Escape can handle it. Oh and please don't rush! Me, David and the 9 foot tree - we'll just wait by the curb for 15 minutes while you say your good-byes.

Anyway, when you look at our tree look in the right-hand corner. See the penguins (coolest thing ever... thanks mom!)? Do you see the resemblance? It's uncanny, but not intentional. Right now the tree looks a little... bent... but once it opens up it will be… perfect.

Click here and watch the penguins in action

I threw someone under said bus

I have to make a public apology. Someone feels I have thrown him under the bus. Fortunately no one knows this blog exists, but since he feels like I have made him public enemy number one... I will say this: I feel my husband was not the alarm clock radio station changing culprit. I was implying Mr. Shane made the switch. I thought his silence implied guilt.

Also, yes I am dramatic. But I do not take the phrase "I got hit by the bus" lightly because I have in fact been hit by a bus. A Montclair State bus to be specific. However, for those I've offended - I also apologize.

To Commute is synonymous with To Be Miserable

Every now and then one of those inevitable days when everything goes wrong hits you like a Coach USA bus. It’s a fact of life. One I’ve learned to accept. Today I got hit by the bus.

It started at 6:00 a.m. I did not want to admit that my alarm clock was blaring five inches from my head. Denial is just not effective in a case like this. Which reminds me, someone has changed the radio station on my alarm clock to one that I do not appreciate waking up to. No one wants to hear Lenny Kravitz or Aerosmith or Gunz & Roses at the crack of dawn (do you?). It’s just inviting you to start the day grumpy. Anyway that someone said he didn’t do it and Mr. Shane had no response when I interrogated him.

I hit the snooze button 4 times this morning, each time waking up to some middle age + man screaming about something thereby evoking this rant and rave within me. When I finally got out of bed at 6:28 a.m. things were going good until I realized I left my brush in my car. I chose looking disheveled all day over running out to my car in the cold to get it. I’ll just hide in my office and hope no one comes to see me.

Next was my 20 minute journey to the bus stop. That was uneventful. Thank God for small favors. When I got on the bus I found a seat on the outside with no one sitting behind it. This is key because then I can set my seat into the reclining position and hope that today will be the day I can fall asleep. My good fortune was short-lived. The man getting on the bus behind me chose the seat behind mine and actually pushed it out of it’s reclining position. Thought that was a bit pushy. So now I was sitting at a 90 degree angle. Quite uncomfortable.

Usually, a few minutes after departure the blazing heat kicks in and I’m usually cursing the bus driver. But today, the AC is on, or at least it feels like it. It’s pretty cold outside, so my feet begin to freeze first and then my nose and the hands, etc. Finally a blessed soul shouts from the back of the bus, “Can you turn the heat on!” Thank goodness. Minutes later when the climate hasn’t improved, a group from the back of the bus simultaneously yells the same plea. The plea then spreads to the front of the bus like a wave until the driver announces that the heat is broken.

For $65 a week, us Rockland County commuters deserve better. Have a heart Coach USA. Seriously. No heat on the coldest day this season?

Okay so I am almost done with this ridiculously long and boring rant. I got off the bus at Bryant Square Park and headed for the train. Going against the herd of zombie like NYers (clearly jaded from being veteran commuters) I see an oldish man directly in my path. I cannot move. To my right is a wall to my left is another wall of unyielding executive types. The old man makes eye contact with me. There is an unspoken dialog, “I can’t move. You move.” I don’t think he wants to move. He gets closer. He’s maintaining eye contact. He coughs in my face. He moves over. Did this just happen? I turn around and do my best impression of Sara Jessica Parker in the opening credits of Sex and the City.

I love New York.

My Family