If I were Bette Midler I'd probably just sing about it...

Warning: This post is about Girl Power. Men should proceed with caution.

I know I usually write about funny stories or clever anecdotes. Heck, sometimes I even go right for the cheap joke in an effort to get a cheap laugh (I site gay novelty towel as Exhibit A and embarrassing drinking story as Exhibit B). But, today I'm kinda feeling a little lovey dovey. Yes, I'm a little in love. And I want to shout it from the virtual rooftops.

Awww...We're like Beaches.
Without the sh*tty cancer part.

HEY UNIVERSE, I LOVE MY FRIENDS!

I do. I am head-over-heals smitten with these amazing ladies. No matter what the situation, no matter what I'm going through, these muchachas are there for me. Some of them are really "here" for me- right here, in this town, in this state, and some of them are "there" for me from wherever they are - whether it be phone calls, IMs, text messages or singing telegram. We find each other, we support each other and, dammit, we love each other.

I truly believe women need each other more then men do. We are simply wired to share; share joy, share sadness, share burden; share wardrobes.

So in honor of all this sharing, I thought that I would share with y'all just a few of the totally awesome things my friends have done for me lately:

1. Bought me salad tongs as a gift. They are really super cool salad tongs, not regular boring ones. No one ever thinks to buy salad tongs for themselves, right? But you need 'em. My friend bought them. A+.

Best. Logo. Ever

2. Hauled a big-ass dehumidifier to my house, by herself, on her day off from work. That takes Girl Power and Muscle Power.

3. Covered for me at an event when I suddenly realized that I had forgotten my dentist appointment....again. I should really look at my calendar more often. And get my head outta my you-know-what.

4. Listened, listened, listened, listened. In case you haven't noticed, I sometimes have a lot to say. These ladies know how to listen. Or at least they fake it. Either way, I get to talk...and not just to myself.

5. Made me laugh...constantly. I have some pretty funny friends - some seriously killer comedic brain power. You know who you are. You inspire me every day.

6. Made me a gin-and-tonic at 3:30pm on a Tuesday. Don't judge. You have no idea what kind of day we were having.

7. Kept me sane when my hubby was away for soooooooooooooooooooooooo long. Okay it wasn't WWII or anything, but it was a long 5 days. And without my friends it would have felt like 500...and I might have sold my children.

8. Offered to help cover my gray. No one should have to color their hair alone. Not at home. Not the first time. Not without an audience. (Stay tuned for blog post entitled "Aren't you DYEING to know what happened??")

9. Got me out of my house. Need I remind you that I work from home? I've got a Cabin Fever of 104.5. Invite me somewhere....anywhere...I'll come. I promise. My friends get me out. One of them is even flying me to Chicago just to catch up on life. Yeah, she is amazing. You should be jealous.

Confetti and coordinated outfits
not required.

So thank you to all of my friends. And thank you to all the other amazing women out there who take the time to love and support their own friends. We're a team. A really hot, smart, sexy, take-no-prisoners, got-ur-back, watch-out-world-we're-united team.

Now go hug someone.

- Mimi

PS: I do have some pretty great, wildly amusing male friends. I also love you to pieces. I just don't want to borrow your clothes.

Putting the DAMN! in Damsel.

My face has been stuck
like this for about 2 weeks.

Can it really be only two weeks ago that I nearly entered myself into the Ms. Provincetown pageant? (I subsequently realized it's not for actual women.) Was it really two weeks ago that I was on that blissful vacation high? Gosh, it feels like a lifetime ago. That must be because the past two weeks have been a totally sh*tfest a bit more challenging. Flood clean-up is not what it used to be.

But as Blanche DuBois famously said, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." And lately I've had the urge to hug a lot of strangers. There was the Verizon guy that fixed my internet AND programmed my remote; the guy at the Apple store that resuscitated my lifeless phone; The troops from the remediation company that won the Battle of Little Big Mold in our basement. Then there was the lady working at Dunkin Donuts that found my debit card. Oh and the entire local fire department - yeah we’ve gotten especially close lately. We have regular date nights now thanks to my water-damaged smoke detectors and overwhelming fear of carbon monoxide .

Try it with a Southern accent.
Works even better.

So I won't bore you with all the sordid details of the who did what, where, how and why of the past two weeks. All I'll say is that I've played the Damsel in Distress more times than a respectable, mature woman really ought to. Don't get me wrong. There have been plenty of good reasons. It's been a constant smackdown of one crisis after another and my delicate girly brain just can't take any more of it.

Why Big Kind Sir, can you please help little ol' me?

(Let's be honest, ladies. We've all played Damsel for some not-so-good reasons too. Works every time. You men are suckers).

Take Wednesday night approximately 9pm. I was enjoying a peaceful night at home. My kids were finally asleep. My husband was traveling which meant I was a little lonely and a little extra tired. But it also meant I could eat cereal for dinner and rewatch the SYTYCD finale...again. It almost evens out, especially with a glass of Bordeaux.

So picture me: On the couch, in my comfiest, frumpiest pajamas, cereal on my lap, wine in my glass, brain blissfully disengaged, and eyes glued to the TV behind glasses 2-inch-thick. Probably a little more detail than I should admit, but we're all friends here.

And then the fire alarms go off. All of them.

DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!

DAMN! for SO MANY reasons. DAMN! because I was relaxing and so happy on the couch. DAMN! because my kids had finally fallen asleep and I was deathly afraid of waking them up. DAMN! because I jumped and spilled wine on my shirt. DAMN! because maybe there really is a F*CKING FIRE! DAMN! because I have to run all over the house and pull the g*dDAMN hardwired alarms out of the ceiling to shut them up. DAMN! because the fire department had already been here twice in the past week!

And DAMN! this time one of them is quite dashing.

If I wasn't happily married this could have been a fantastic way to start a romantic comedy about my life. (Though perhaps in the fictionalized movie version I will be wearing adorable-yet-sexy matching pjs with my hair effortlessly tossed up in a gentle bun. No glasses. No zit cream. No wine spills. And maybe Natalie Portman as a younger, single me and Harry Conick, Jr as the fire chief with the heart of a jazz singer?)

Now that's good casting!

It was seriously a huge heart attack. But the firemen were awesome. They searched high-and-low all over my house checking for fire hazards, carbon monoxide, and kittens stuck in high up places. They talked me down from my panic attack. They reassured Little Ol' Me that we were safe; that my boiler was not about to blow up; that we wouldn't die that night of CO poisoning. And then they reinstalled all my smoke detectors. And tested them. And double checked. And the dashing one winked as he left and said, "See ya 'round, pretty lady." (Okay, fine. That last part only happens to Natalie Portman in the movie.)

I gave them my best Damsel in Distress. An Oscar-worthy performance...had it only been a performance. But I'm hopeful that they went back to the station feeling a little proud of themselves for saving me from the Big Bad Nothing. And I went back to the couch, and back to my cereal, and back to my evening.

And we all lived Happily Ever After.

At least until they came back the next day to check a gas leak.

Thanks but no tanks, Provincetown!

Well hello, everyone.  It’s been a busy couple of weeks since we last spoke.  A LOT has happened. There was that big hurricane and then we went on vacation and THEN we lived without phone or internet or TV for almost a whole week (gasp!).  I seriously think my brain has been on complete and total overload.  In fact, I'm just kind of writing this blog with no clear plan or agenda for what I'm going to say. Let’s see, let’s see, let’s see… what. to. dis. cuss...

Enjoying my post-Irene
lakefront view.

How about the seven feet of water in our backyard?  Nah… this blog is a comedy, not a tragedy. 

How I hugged the Verizon guy when he finally fixed my internet?  Hmmm...Best left out. It was uncomfortable for both of us. 

How our landlord told us to just hire "workers looking for odd jobs" to clean the post-flood mold in our basement?  That would be HILARIOUS (if it weren't true. ugh)

How I had the best vacation of my life and am so in love with my family?  Nope.  That would break Rule #2 and Rule #3 as outlined in my own manifesto.

How about my NEW bikini???  YES. Great idea!  Let’s start with that.

So...I did it.  I wore a bikini!  A real one.  No tanki part.  And it was kinda tiny too.

After my experience earlier in the summer (as recounted this post) I decided it was time to let my stomach see the light of day.  It had been about five years, one [GIANT] pregnancy and two kids since I last had the metaphorical balls to show my stomach on the beach.  It was time to go for it.  And trust me, ladies, there is no better place to break the bikini ice than Provincetown, MA!  Good ol’ Ptown, where the gay men aren’t lookin’, the lesbians don’t care and your husband is the only straight man on the beach. (FYI, that is not the official town slogan.)

Of course I had only packed my trusty tankinis.  I mean, I wasn't expecting to have such an epiphany about swimwear.  But Ptown really is THAT amazing.  It's beautiful.  It’s friendly.  It’s welcoming.  It’s colorful.  It is the kind of place that can make anyone feel instantly comfortable - with or without a bikini (homophobes excluded).  

So I went shopping.   The racks were pretty bare and I almost lost my motivation.  And then I found it. Way in the back of the store, crushed between a weird pink stomach-cut-out-one-piece-thing and a terrifying beach towel that looked something like this...

(Yes that is a hairy-chested man...and yes, he is holding his crotch...and yes, he is smiling at YOU.  Gay novelty towels are not for the faint of heart, people.)

It was last one on the rack.  It had palm trees and Hawaiian flowers on it, but who cares.  It fit (sorta).  And I bought it (on clearance).  And I wore it (in public).  

Take that, Jersey shore.

Seriously, it was a big step for me and something I never thought I’d ever EVER do again.  So how about a little virtual recognition from the crowd? (hold for applause)  Awww, shucks.  Thanks, guys.

As for the rest of the vacation...pure bliss.  The sea air transformed my kids into two perfect angels who listened well, ate well, slept well and FINALLY learned to pump their own legs on the swings (This is a huge score and will replace hours of annoying pushing time with an equal number of hours in playground phone-talking time - ring you soon, beotch!).  

It was a true vacation.  An escape.  A retreat. And I feel like one lucky lady, stretch marks and all.

'Till next year, Ptown!  Stay fabulous!

Hurricane Preparedness Edition!!

Irene. Like other crazy bitches before her: How could
something so beautiful be so cruel?

So it's coming.  It's unavoidable and it's gunna be ugly.  Our vacation plans have been delayed.  Hospitals are being evacuated.  And Stop and Shop is completely out of chocolate almond milk. 

I've been  totally obsessing thinking about Sunday...and what scares me is not the 120 mph winds or 800 inches of rain.  I'm not even all that worried about the near certainty of my basement flooding with several feet of water.  No no...what terrifies me the most is trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do all day!

So as a result of my near panic attack, I've decided to take a xanax put together a short To Do list for Sunday.  It will help me feel in control organize my day and MAYBE be slightly productive too.  I also realize that many of you will be also freaking the f*ck out  in a similar predicament.  So, I thought, why not share my list and perhaps give ideas to others in need?  And what's even better?  These can all be done in the event of a power outage ('cause otherwise we'll just watch TV all day...).

So here is Mimi's Hurricane Irene To Do List:

1.  Move entire contents of basement into the dining room:   What do you do when you are a renting a house at the very bottom of a flood plain and you have no flood insurance?  You put your lawn mower in the dining room.  Also, your extra deck furniture, your bikes, your old TV, and that creepy old dollhouse your neighbors gave you (You know, the one that you kept in the basement because you were pretty sure there were tiny little ghosts living in it.).  Then you let your kids pretend the dining room is a pirate ship.

2.  Write those thank you notes we've been procrastinating:   It's almost not worth getting gifts for fear of having MORE thank you notes to write.  Alas, we must find something nice to say about every gift....even that weird doll that pees in a diaper and speaks Arabic.

3.  Clean out the closets: I'm seriously dying to figure out what happened to my navy blue maxi dress.  I know it's around here somewhere.  Also , last time we cleaned out the closets I found savings bonds from my husband's bar mitzva.  Score!

4.  Pluck eyebrows:  Always a favorite.  Kills at least 30 minutes.  Might be tricky in the dark.

5. Hand wash delicates:  We all have that one bra that we love.  We should hand wash it but we don't have time and we're scared to put in the washing machine for fear will never be the same. So it just sits in the drawer...or maybe it still gets worn even though it's kinda dirty and we feel a little wrong about it but it is so comfortable that we do it anyway. You know that one?  It's time to wash it. "Little House" style.

6.   Read the last 5 issues of the Economist:  I subscribe because it makes me feel smart but I don't always read it.  I TOTALLY always plan on reading it but it's like way dense.  So this is my big chance to catch up, right?  Right.  But then again, we'll be in a state of emergency so... I'll probably just read People. 

7.  Play with kids (or borrow your neighbors!):  Hurricanes and blizzards are a great time to bond with children.  It's an opportunity for uninterrupted, unplugged, old fashioned playing.  You can play dress up (you'll be the evil queen or the ugly octopus monster), board games (watch out, they cheat) or do puzzles (don't feel dumb - they are harder than I remember too).  Just keep feeding them snacks.  They get kinda mean when they are hungry.

Well, that's all I got for now.  We are going to run to Home Depot and fight all the other crazies and buy  12 flashlights and 700 AA batteries.  

Good luck everyone!  Stay dry!

Peace out, Summer 2011. It's been real, yo.

Tomorrow we leave for our end-of-summer family vacation to Cape Cod.  (Yes, sometimes Jewish-Italian-American families go to Cape Cod.  And, no, I did not buy pleated khaki shorts for the occasion.).   We rented a super cute little condo where we hope to hit the beach, do some biking, enjoy family bonding, and perhaps bask in the aftermath of hurricane Irene (Bite me, weather gods.).

So since it will be September when I return from our wet and wild adventure, and since I've already mourned the end of another fabu season of So You Think You Can Dance, I thought I would leave y'all with some parting words to bid adieu to Summer 2011.    After all, it's been pretty action packed - a debt crisis, a Kardashian wedding, birthday bonanzas, biblical floods, an earthquake, and possibly the most excruciating season of The Bachelorette ever.

So in honor of this epic summer, I've put together...



I just might miss you the most, SYTYCD!

A Short List of What I'll Miss and What I Won't Miss about Summer 2011

What I'll miss:  Feeling the warm sun enliven my soul.
What I won't miss:  The fighting, screaming, agonizing battles to get sunscreen on my kids.  You'd think it was made from acid and/or troll vomit. 

What I'll miss:  Sitting outside in the early morning, on the deck, writing this blog.
What I won't miss:  Watching squirrels piss on my garbage cans. 

What I'll miss:  Sitting outside on a warm night, on the deck, writing this blog.
What I won't miss:   Waving my arms like a lunatic to turn the outdoor light sensor back on.  It causes cramping.  Also, one time when the light was off, I drank a fly with my wine.

What I'll miss:  My summer improv class.
What I won't miss:  Having to think so quickly on my feet. It's quite tiring.  Also, if I get stuck in another bad doctor/nurse hospital scene I might scream. 
Me: "I'm sorry, Doctor. We lost him."
Him: "No. Hold on a sec...he's NOT dead"   (Wait. What??)
Me: "Oh he's NOT dead?  Oh, okay.  Ummm. Good."  (awkward pause)
Him: "Nurse, pass me the scalpel. We can save him." 
Me: (Seriously? I just said he was dead!)  "Here's the scalpel, doctor..."

What I'll miss: An excuse to eat ice cream!
What I won't miss: The laws of thermodynamics: "Mommy! Make my ice cream UNMELTED!" 

What I'll miss: Long lazy days at the pool.
What I won't miss: The magnetic pull of the snack bar and my kids' insatiable desire to buy something deep fried.   Hey snack bar lady, would it kill you to sell a fruit cup?

What I'll miss:  Fun neighborhood barbecues.
What I won't miss: My paralyzing fear of undercooked chicken.

What I'll miss: Having my sweet, wonderful, smart children home with me for so many many many hours of quality time and nurturing attention during these weeks between camp and school.
What I won't miss: Having my sweet, wonderful, smart children home with me for so many many many hours of quality time and nurturing attention during these weeks between camp and school.


See you in September, everyone!!!

Xoxoxoxo.

Ode to Trader Joe's

I really don’t think
There ever could be
Another supermarket
as fine as thee.

Your produce is fresh.
Your snack food, the best
My will power, it seems,
Cannot stand the test.

I go with a list -
Three items, or four.
And always come out
With way, way much more.

Try some risotto, you say.
Why not? Sure. Okay.
Wow.  My gosh. 
That is good.
I could make this someday
(though likely I'll buy it
and forget it 'till May).

And so it goes,
Aisle, by aisle.
The options keep going
mile by mile.
The cookies, the nuts,
the ice cream, the cheese.
Oh mommy, oh mommy!
Can we have this... PLEASE?

So I fill up my cart.
And their little ones too.
You really do make it
So easy to do.

Twelve fuits bars,
Four peppers, bananas
And more.
My kids like two banshees
Around the whole store.

One might feel bad
For the mess that we make
If it wasn’t so clear
It’s a risk that you take.

You make it inviting.
You want us to come.
So we go when we’re bored.
(We all know you’re not dumb.)

By the time it’s all through,
I’m not sure what to do.
I’ve spent too much money
And calories too.

But my kids have had fun
So I feel like I won.
‘Cause it gave us an outing
When we might have had none.

Thank you, Trader Joe's!

Pizza, cupcakes and a (harmless) buzz.

One of my favorite and most fabulous friends, we'll call her Lynn, hosted a birthday party for her 4-year old on Friday evening at 5pm.   And guess what?  There were cocktails!

Yes.  My BRILLIANT friend served wine, beer and hors d'oeuvres at her 4-year old daughter's birthday party.  The kids made pizzas and cupcakes and all the parents got totally buzzed (when I say "all," I mean me and few others who shall remain fakenameless).  

It started out innocent enough with the typical kid chasing-each-other-and-banging-into-everything-and-screaming nonsense.  We were all frazzled.  Don't touch that!  Put that down!  Those presents aren't yours!  Do you have to pee?  I can tell that you do!   HEY!  GET AWAY FROM THAT OVEN! 

She was less scary in person.

Then Julia, the party lady, comes.  Like a fairy godmother sent from heaven (in heaven there is always someone to take your kids to make cupcakes when you are about to lose it), she swoops in with a metaphorical wave of her wand.  She lines them up.  She walks them into the other room.  She closes the door.

We exhale.

Now you might have guessed by the title of this blog that I depend on enjoy an occasional glass of wine. And it just so happens that I'd had one of those years days that can make you want to audition for reality TV drink.  So, I thought to myself (how clichè), what the heck? I'll have one glass of wine, some prosciutto with melon, and just unwind a bit.

Oops.


It's not like James Bond would 
have been there anyway...

That the perfectly chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio didn't stand a chance.

Before I know it I've had three glasses of wine, NO prosciutto with melon, and I'm desperately trying to get invited to that evening's "dads only" poker night.  Yes, I'm serious. I really tried.  

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't making a complete fool of myself the only one being a bit silly.  Girlboyfriend, the drinks were flowing as fast as the juicy gossip.  For real (snap, snap).  We were standing around, drinking and eating and drinking, and wondering why NO ONE had thought of this before (if someone out there had already thought of this and didn't tell me I'm gunna be right pissed.).  Of course, we always enjoy pleasantries over ice cream cake and pizza.  But, let me tell you, the pleasantries are MUCH more interesting after a few glasses of wine.

Public Service Announcement:  Have a designated driver.  Mine walked there from the train station (thanks, honey!).

So thank you, Lynn.  Everyone had a really great time on Friday.  Yes, I know what some of you are  thinking....maybe we had a little too much fun?  Perhaps. But, you know what?  We all work hard - really damn hard.  Parents or not, we give and give and every once and a while it is liberating to live with just a smidge of reckless abandon...even just for an hour while the kids decorate cupcakes.

Now I know not everyone has a friend as fabu as Lynn.  But, fear not.  There are plenty of other things you can do when when you feel like you've given all that you can and you just need a bit of a buzz.  Perhaps try one of these suggestions on for size:

• Run out and buy those sexy shoes you saw at Bloomies (Or if you wait until October they might be on sale).
• Plan a spontaneous weekend away with your spouse or best bud (Just make sure you can line up a babysitter and/or have someone watch the cat).



Is this guy really looking at his watch? 
Buzz kill, dude.  

• Go f-ing skydiving! (Are life insurance payments current? Have you updated your will?)
• Call that ex-girlboyfriend you've been thinking about (Single readers only. I'm serious. Put down the phone.).
• Get a trampoline in the backyard (Please double check that you actually put it together properly).
• Go platinum blond (Just don't try to do it yourself. It never ends well.).
• Buy that iPad already (They are really super cool, but do you really need the 3G version?)
• Get a little drunk at a party (or if you're with your boss, just have one glass of wine and some cheese).

Please don't forget to call me and let me know how it goes!  Heck, I might even join you if I don't have to work, go food shopping, do laundry, pay bills, drive a carpool, make dinner, take a conference call, clean the kitchen, or plan a birthday party.

Happy Tuesday!

-Mimi