Breakfast at Lani's

Thankful...

Another one for the bitch files...

I full on decked myself in the face with my umbrella. 

I've had a rough morning.

First of all, I made a pot of decaf by accident. I have no idea how this happened. Do I even own decaf? Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever even had a cup of decaf.  It just seems wrong.  It's kinda like doing a line of highless-cocaine just for the fun of it. What's the payout for putting your nose through all that pain? Same goes for coffee. Do you think Juan Valdez would have had any luck marketing that crap if it wasn't a psychoactive stimulant?  I can think of a hundred things I would rather drink over coffee, things that taste 110% better, like peppermint tea, hot chocolate or juice. It's that zingy feeling I've come to depend on love that keeps me so faithful. So hear this! You can't fool me with your decaf. I don't how you got into my coffee canister but you are not welcome in my cupboard. What's next? Soy milk? Sick bastard.

But I digress.

After the whole decaf debacle, I knew my entire day was pretty much screwed. My pants felt tight, I had no clean black socks (which means I'm wearing short white socks underneath my black knee-high boots...hot), and it took me 15 minutes to find my car keys. I then proceeded to drive my youngest step-daughter to school, which is never fun because I'm already at war with about 75% of the parents who drop their kids off in the morning.

Quick aside: I know its, like, rocket science and all, but the whole drop yer kid off in-front of the school is actually pretty easy. All you have to do is move FORWARD until your car is positioned IN-FRONT of the school, did you get that? Not behind the school, not beside the school...in-front of the school. From there you give your kid a kiss and send them on their way. What you should NOT do is hold up traffic by telling your kids to get out when you're 10+ cars down from the front. How does this make sense to you? How does this seem like a good idea. I know your kid is uber special and all, but so is mine...so MOVE IT! 

When I finally arrived in Seattle I was greeted by the longest train ever to exist on the planet. Apparently some big-time train traffic controller thought it would be a brilliant idea to send a train snail-ing straight through downtown in the middle of rush hour. So I waited. And waited. And waited. And then it stopped. And then it began  reversed. I was almost thinking, "Ha ha, that was funny! Great joke. You almost had me believe that you were going to stop the train and send it back the other way! Cause that's hilarious. Truly hilarious."  I say 'almost' because it quickly became apparent that this was not a joke. 

40 minutes later, I  finally pull into my parking spot. I step out of my car, grab my umbrella, press the open button and am quickly socked square in the mouth by an expanding green and white polka-dot parasol. And it's not like I saw it coming  so of course I drop my coffee, which sends dozens of ceramic pieces shooting across the parking lot. 

It's not even lunchtime yet and already I'm ready to go home.

Oh well...on the bright side, it was only decaf.

The Block is Back

You know, for awhile I was actually beginning to regret coming out of the closet. I know, hard to believe. But I was seriously beginning to question my decision to announce my love for boy band pioneer's, New Kids on the Block. 

Some were supportive. Some were not. Some said they sucked. Some said they rocked. Some said Donnie Walhberg had to be taken to the hospital for a stomach pump after consuming a gallon of questionable substance. True? We'll never know, and I'm OK with that. You want to know why? Because I am a hardcore fan.

But I won't lie....the price of being a rock solid fan can be high. Real high. I've been the victim of many jokes. I've had to witness the rise and fall of other (lesser) boy bands, like *NSYNC, Backstreet boys, and that god awful creation, O-Town. With every crappy knock-off single that was released I had to ask myself, "How much longer do I have to wait before NKOTB make a comeback?"

Well, folks. The wait is over. And I can honestly say...It's been worth it.

Last Saturday, at the Tacoma Dome, I was reminded why I love those 5 boys from Boston. 

My best friend, Nicole, came to Seattle from Victoria and together we partied like it was 1988. It was, hands down, the best concert I've ever been too. I know it's hard to believe, but it was so much more than just the music and the performance. It was the energy and the bonding of the entire audience. I think Natasha Bedingfield said it best (she was the opening act), "This is a true love story...it began a long time ago and here you are today, together." Everywhere you looked there were women smiling, everyone was laughing and EVERYONE was amazingly giddy. Fans would stop and point at each other's circa 1991 concert tee while screaming, "OhhMiiiiigggoooodddd I LOOOVEEE your shirt!! Joey is soooo HAWT!!'

When we finally found our seats , we were immediately entertained by the jumbo-tron. Fans were being encouraged to send their messages via text message to the big screen. A few examples...(some were pretty crude).

Jordan...I'll be loving you forever. And maybe Joey too...

I've been in love with you for 20 years...Thank you for making me feel like a kid again.

and my personal favorite...

Donnie, will you be my boyfriend? My husband says it's OK!

After 20 minutes of reading hilarious fan message that were both nostalgia inducing and full of "inside jokes"....it happened. The lights went out.

Silence.

BOOOOM!!!

Lights explode!

Fireworks are launched over the stage...

And the letters: NKOTB slowly burn their way across the jumbo-tron.

Y'all. The most hardcore of hardcore metal bands got NOTHING on 15,000 New Kids' fans. I have never screamed (or heard screaming) as loud as I did last Saturday. I felt like I was a teenager again...I think everyone did.

It was magical.

Holy Crap!

Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to stock the bathrooms at work with 1ply toilet paper?!? Honestly. That's just cruel.

Party Pooper

I have often referred to my current city of residence as Stepford. I think the name speaks for itself and requires little to no explanation. To be fair, my "city" (it should really be called a town) isn't quite as disturbing as the zombie-like fictional town of Stepford, Connecticut and its fawning, submissive, and impossibly beautiful wives. And I feel I should mention that, unlike Stepford men, my husband is not a member of a men's robotics club. Dex is a brilliant engineer but I do doubt his capabilities of creating a Lani look-alike gynoid.

Disclaimer aside, there are some definite similarities. I realize this is a touchy subject. Nobody wants to hear anyone dissing their hometown and I really don't want to be dooced from the soccer mom circle for spilling the beans, but I think it's important to know that every now and them I will be writing a post about things I find kinda creepy about my new home town . 

Let me begin this series of observations by first stating that I am convinced that the Stepford school district is determined to rip all the fun out of all holiday festivities. Take this email as an example, sent to us by my step-daughters 1st grade teacher:

For this party, the children are allowed to bring their Halloween costumes to school (this is, of course, optional).  Please do not send your child to school wearing the costume.  

Please send your child's costume in a labeled bag.  

Please keep your child's costume simple and easy to put on; your child will need to slip his/her costume on over his/her school clothes.  

Children will take their costumes off after the party.

We request that no make-up be sent for this occasion.  

I would also like to remind you that costumes modeling fear or violence, such as toy weapons, stay at home.  

In addition, since this party is a class function, we would appreciate childcare arrangements made for younger siblings.  I thank you, in advance, for your understanding.  

Well shit. While we're at it, why don't we just confine trick or treating to the various knock-able doors in our home. I realize that some of you may agree with teacher's request but I. For one. Do not. 

Some of my fondest memories of elementary school revolve around holiday parties. I get that warm and fuzzy feeling when I reminisce about waking up extra early to put on my costume. I spent hours looking through my mom's makeup bag, desperately seeking the perfect shade of blue eyeshadow. Makeup was a huge part of the costume, I mean, how was I supposed to own a line like,  "I am Adora. He-Man's twin sister and the defender of the Crystal Castle", without the perfect shade of blue and gloss?

It was serious, ya'll.

For one day out of the year I was allowed to dress up, go to school and embody the Princess of Power...there was none of this "put your costume over your clothes" bologna. In fact, my 1st grade halloween party was so memorable that I can still remember the feeling of having my heart broken when Superman (or John Lee, when he wasn't rocking the superhero attire) told me he couldn't hold my hand because She-ra had nothing on Lois Lane. Unlucky for him my She-ra costume came equipped with a sick glow-in-the-dark sword, which I then used to stab him in the kidney. I suppose this could be used to backup teach's argument that no "weapons" should be brought to class but I wouldn't exactly say that the sword modeled fear or violence! Every child in that class knew it was a symbol of the mystical power of Grayskull. John had it comin'. She-ra is way cooler than Lois Lane.

Have all schools adopted this cold, scheduled, rushed one-hour party process, or is this just another Stepford trait?