Fluid Pudding : Page 102 of 122 : It's the old small talk!

It looks like I’m rotting from the inside out, Lily Chin.

When I was in high school, my skin was highly imperfect.

Sadly, when you take a girl who is already a bit of a social disaster (me! I was the piano playing introvert who always kept the words Boy and Friend separate!) and you tap her with a Yucky Skin stick, you end up with someone who spends entirely too much time staring at her own feet as she walks down the hall. (This might explain my current fascination with shoes! I would look so CUTE falling down in these!)

Anyway, my mom knew that I was bummed out about my skin, so she took me to see a dermatologist. After shining bright lights on me for what seemed like hours, the doctor removed his glasses and said, “So, your skin’s imperfect. You’re not going to kill yourself, are you?!” I had no idea how to respond, so I simply apologized for setting up the appointment. (Quick news flash: The last I heard, this dermatologist was in prison! Catch a painted pony and so forth!)

Fast forward entirely too many years to January 2010. Last month I noticed that my skin was starting to look like crap again. Dry, oily, irritated, sensitive, scary, spicy, posh, etc. I visited my primary care physician last week (you know, because My Dermatologist is in PRISON) and am now washing my face with a benzoyl peroxide soap and using something called Metro Gel, which I believe brings me one step closer to my goal of Urban Cowboy status. I have no idea why I’m telling you this. I suppose I really just want to say: Stop looking at my chin. I have no idea what’s going on down there, but I’ve been assured that Metro Gel is on the case.

I’m pleased to report that I’ve just finished my final freelance chapter.

I’m terrified to report that I’ve just finished my final freelance chapter.

(I realize it’s only a matter of time until I accept my next job, so all is well. I’m very lucky to be able to live like this.)

The UPS man just delivered the Adult Makeup I ordered last week. Have I mentioned that I’ll be forty soon? I really should start adding more fiber to my diet or Sensitive Skin products to my makeup drawer or money to my kids’ college funds or something.

I’ve spent the entire weekend listening to Mumford and Sons. They’re exactly what I need right now.

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Time is running out!
Tonight I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza.

I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!) This is a really great giveaway! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’ve been poking pretzel sticks through bunny-shaped marshmallows.

Yesterday afternoon, Harper went to school and wrote a note to me on funeral home letterhead.

Obviously, I love this note for many reasons.

I plan to stash it away in a light-fast, non-bleeding, and acid- and lignin-free box to heighten the chance that my great great great great granddaughter will discover it while constructing some sort of branchy Pudding family tree. I picture her asking my great great granddaughter how old Great Great Great Grandma Harper was when Great Great Great Great Grandma Angela passed on, and what are the chances that this note was actually written at the funeral?!

Ahhhh. It’s been a long day.

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Time is running out!
I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!) This is a really great giveaway!

On Monday, I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

It’s Shirt vs. Skin, Mr. Bobby Flay.

Although I probably watch entirely too much television, I don’t really have any shows that I Absolutely Cannot Miss. (My fingers are crossed behind my back right now, because I sort of can’t miss Days of Our Lives or The Secret Life of the American Teenager. I justify my viewing of these shows in the following manner: In my mind, the average age of a Days of Our Lives fan is 60. Secret Life fan? 20. At (nearly) 40, I am The MEAN!)

When I’m sitting on the couch knitting, I tend to hop through channels. More often than not, I end up on Food Network because I find that the Food Network hosts are (mostly) people I could see myself cavorting with in real life. (In a parallel universe, I am decorating cakes with Chef Duff Goldman right now. It’s an enormous cake that looks exactly like a bathtub filled with scrambled eggs, and Chef Duff is very impressed with the fluffy perfection of my marzipan eggs. Okay. Back to this universe.) Anyway. The show that consistently captures my attention is Throwdown! with Bobby Flay. (Side note: I would love to have this, but it looks like shipping would cost more than the actual DVD. I refuse to pay more in shipping than in product! I am Ridiculous that way, Food Network.)

Please know that I’ve never caught an entire episode of Throwdown! with Bobby Flay. With that said, here’s how I think it goes down: Someone considers herself to be sort of an expert on a particular food item. This person looks into the camera and goes on and on about how her blueberry pancakes are “The Greatest Blueberry Pancakes EVER, Bobby Flay, because here in South Dakota, we know our Blueberry Pancakes!” And then Bobby Flay, looking all fetching as he struts down the streets of South Dakota in his Ray-Bans, says “Hey! You think your blueberry pancakes can beat MY BLUEBERRY PANCAKES?! I’ll kick your pancakey butt right into Shrove Tuesday, Cha Cha!” He then busts into the house and embarrasses the self-proclaimed Blueberry Pancake Queen in front of her friends and family by making blueberry pancakes that put an end to every other blueberry pancake—all with one hand tied behind his back and absolutely no sweat to be seen.

At the end of the show, the townspeople vote, and more often than not, Bobby Flay is the Throwdown! Winner. And it really should make me feel a bit sad for the humiliated loser (who, in my mind, is eventually chased out of town), and sometimes it DOES, but more often than not, I simply cannot stop thinking that I wish Bobby had performed the entire Throwdown! without his shirt on.

Before I go any further, let me just say this: If a man would bounce on over to Fluid Pudding and say something about wishing Rachael Ray would do HER show without a shirt on, it would offend me. More than a little, even. And that, my friends, makes me a Hypocrite—a hypocrite who wants Bobby Flay to come over to my house and Throwdown! without his shirt on.

So. With that out of the way, it appears that I need to quickly become a locally-known expert on a particular food item.

After thinking about this for nearly ten minutes, I have chosen the Sweet Potato for two obvious reasons: 1. I bake a sweet potato almost every day for lunch. (With that said, I am not an expert on the baked sweet potato. Sometimes they’re not quite done. Sometimes they’re entirely TOO done. I do not discriminate. All are eaten—some just evoke more fond memories than others.) 2. Potatoes have skins, which opens up that whole Shirt vs. Skin thing, in which I would be Shirt. (And, most likely, Shirt with Swingy Cardigan.)

This is not going to be an easy task, which is exactly why I am here to ask for your help.

What can I do with a sweet potato that would stir Bobby Flay into a St. Louis Fluid Pudding Sweet Potato Shirtless Throwdown! (SLFPSPST)?

Quick! I need your sweet potato ideas!

(Confession: As much as I would dig seeing Mr. Flay without his shirt on, I really wrote this entire entry because I am looking for sweet potato recipes. (I tend to dance around for seven hundred words (or more) before getting down to business.))
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I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!)

I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Jeff told her that it looked like cobbler. He’s so brave.

My calendar this week is filled with words, and most of those words have something to do with freelance work.

(Thursday contains the words Stendhal Syndrome. I’m not sure why I wrote that, but I do love the concept.)

Sadly, today features the following phrase: MC home sick.

Did you know that Meredith has GERD? She had it when she was a baby, and then everything seemed to clear up when she started walking. Last April, she started complaining of stomachaches. After a few weeks of complaints, she started throwing up every morning. Her doctor put her on Prilosec for six months. When six months passed, Meredith was going through a challenging time at school and was scared to death to stop the medicine, so the doctor signed us on for another three months.

A few weeks back, the prescription ran out, and Meredith was cool with that. Onward!

We noticed last week that she was hoarse.

On Sunday afternoon, she had a really awful cough.

Last night at 9:45 she yelled out and was wiggling around her bed in pain.

Me: Do you think you might need a puke bowl?

Meredith: Yes.

Seconds later (before Jeff was able to deliver The Silver Bowl), Meredith unloaded a pile of blueberries onto her bed. And I thought I could handle cleaning it. I totally did. Jeff took Meredith to the bathroom to clean her up, I approached the bed with the intention of removing the sheets and wiping up as much as I could. And then I started in with the gagging and bending over and saying a lot of things like, “Yeesh! Um, I can do this. I can do this. Blergh. Yes. Holy holy holy. Oh. Boy.”

Once again, Jeff came to the rescue and dealt with the sheets while the girls and I watched a bit of Olympic figure skating. (Did anyone else catch the Canadian skater who fixed her partner’s hair during The Way We Were?! It was just like Streisand and Redford! I don’t care that she fell down and repeatedly stumbled. That subtle move should have clinched the gold for them. Go Canada!)

So, anyway. As I sit at my computer and type, Meredith is sleeping off her rough night (we now have more Prilosec), Harper is at school, and there are at least 20 more chapters on reptiles that need to be templated.

If I have time later this week, I want to talk to you about the crush I have on Bobby Flay.
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I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!)

I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Everyone is invited, Mr. Dangerfield.

Lately, Meredith feels she is not getting enough respect.

After much consideration, she has determined that throwing a party will be the best way to gather her housemates and confront them in regard to their general lack of respect.

Therefore, a Give Meredith Respect Party is being thrown. (Gifts are appreciated, but not required.)

If the proper amount of respect is not shown, attendees will be evicted from the party.

(And, yes. I’m now teaching her the difference between Your and You’re. It’s a difficult but important lesson for a six year old who gets no respect.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Sondre Lerche Concert Giveaway!

ETA: The tickets have been taken. Hooray!!! Thanks to all who inquired!

Here’s the scoop.

A few weeks back, I was made aware of the fact that Sondre Lerche is coming to town. And I love him. So I bought tickets.

Now, it has become clear that I will not be able to attend the show. And I’m bummed. Really bummed.

I tried to sell the tickets on Facebook. No takers.

An hour ago, I tried to give the tickets away on Facebook. No takers.

So, now I’m opening it up to everyone. (Everyone in St. Louis, that is.)

If you’re in St. Louis and are interested in tickets to a really great show on Monday night (2/15), please let me know and the tickets are yours.

What? You don’t know who Sondre Lerche is? Well, here. Let me introduce you.

If you’re interested, leave a comment and we’ll make connections.

(Official show details are here.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

So, it looks like the Puddings are headed to prison.

A little over a year ago, Jeff noticed that he was paying our trash people more than once each month. (And when I say Our Trash People, I mean the environmental service that comes to our house on Thursday mornings to haul away the things that we DIDN’T recycle. I’m still wearing my Birkenstocks.)

Anyway, when he pulled up the information online, he realized that he had been double paying for the past six months! He quickly called Our Trash People (OTP) to figure out what was going on.

OTP: It looks like we accidentally created two accounts for your home. I’ll go ahead and delete the second account and credit your first account with six months of payments if that works for you.

Jeff: I’m down with OTP. Yeah. You know me.

Six months passed before we received the next letter from OTP, which said something like, “Hey, Stinky! You’ve probably noticed that we’re no longer picking up your trash! Do you want to know why?! IT’S BECAUSE YOU HAVEN’T PAID US IN SIX MONTHS!!! Money! Bring it!!!”

(They had NOT stopped picking up our trash.)

Jeff, who is always surprisingly calm in these situations, picked up the phone and called them.

OTP: Whoa! Hey! Look at that! It looks like we credited the first account with six months worth of payments and then DELETED that account. That’s funny!

Jeff: That’s not funny.

OTP: Our bad! Our bad! Don’t worry. We’ll reinstate the first account and delete this empty account. You’re good to go! Trash away!

The bills started appearing again, and we assumed All Was Well.

Yesterday, we received a letter in the mail that featured an embossed stamp and said something like, “Check it, Heedless Sloth. You haven’t paid your stinking trash bill in over a year! What’s up with that?! Wait. I’ll TELL you what’s up with that! What you’re holding in your hand right now is a summons! On February 25th, if you don’t show up and explain your sorry back side to a judge, we’re going to burn your House o’ Trash down and toss your entire family (including the cats) into the slammer!”

Jeff, who is always surprisingly calm in these situations, picked up the phone and called them.

OTP: Oh My Gosh. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. For some reason, we just keep deleting the wrong account! Comedy Gold!!! I’ll take this in and talk to my supervisor about it. No worries. Fixaroonied!

Jeff: Can you ask your supervisor to send an e-mail assuring me that it’s been taken care of?

OTP: Are you kidding? We can’t send e-mails to people on the outside! Believe me. We’ll take care of this. Hey! Where’d my sandwich go?!

A few minutes later, Jeff received a call from the OTP Supervisor assuring him that the court date has been canceled and All Is Well.

Because I do not trust the OTP, the Puddings will be fleeing the country on the evening of February 24th. Hey, Coffee Lady! Do you have room for some Puddings?

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New Giveaway! I spent a week driving a Lincoln, and if you check out my review you could win a $500 Visa gift card! (And more!)

And don’t forget about the hat, the eggs, and the pizza!

Answer some questions and someone scores a handknit hat!

In just a few days I’ll be giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs.

Also, I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I’m knitting hats for tiny bald tarantulas.

In the past 48 hours, I’ve seen some pretty wicked photographs of birds with diarrhea. I have taken on a freelance project, and that is a very good thing.

This particular freelance project is all about animals and their diseases.

Tarantulas go bald. Birds have anorexia. Amphibians vomit.

Meanwhile, I have about 4,392 things running through my head—projects that need my attention, opportunities I want to explore, hair that needs to be cut.

While I’m here, I need to remind you:
In just a few days I’ll be giving away a $100 Visa gift card partnered with Six Months Worth of Eggs.

Also, I’m giving away a $200 Visa gift card, and it’s all about pizza.
Thus it is, and so it goes. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Explanations, Memes, and Human Kindness

ETA: We have a winner! Congratulations, MommyMae!

A few months ago, I mentioned that if you follow me on Twitter, you’ll notice that I finish nearly every one of my thoughts/tweets/whathaveyous with #momspotting. I also pointed you toward the awkward video I made to introduce myself AS a Momspotter.

When the Momspotting gig began, Rita Arens wrote a really excellent article explaining exactly what a Momspotter does. In a nutshell, twenty moms were hired to be part of a six month citizen journalism project that involves making daily observations about technology and parenting. These observations (or tweets) are being watched for trends. And I know it’s pretty confusing, so here: I get paid to be aware of technology in my daily life and how if affects my family. I employ Twitter fifteen times each week, and three times each month I post to the Family Connections community at Blogher. As a total bonus, BlogHer is syndicating a few of my blog posts. (One of them is right here! Hooray!)

To celebrate the final two months of Momspotting, Rita has written a meme and asked that we invite our readers to participate! And *I* have decided to sweeten the pot by turning the meme into a giveaway! (And before we get started, please know that Yes. These questions are geared toward parents, because this particular journalism project is geared toward parents. And I know that seems unfair to people who are not parents. And I get it. Believe me—for reasons I won’t get into right now, I really do get it. If you do not have kids, please skip the questions and go straight to the bottom paragraph of this post. You can still enter the giveaway!)

Here are the questions (with my answers):

1. Which expensive electronic device do you most often let your older children abuse or your baby drool on?

None. I am one of those wicked parents who can’t really afford to replace expensive electronic devices, so drool and abuse are not tolerated.

2. How many take-out restaurant numbers do you have programmed into your phone?

None. Although, I know Gokul’s number by heart. Mmmmmm. Delhi’s Chaat.

3. How many hours of television do you so totally not let your kids watch a week?

I would say my kids probably average about ten hours each week. Is that high? Low? I really have no idea.

4. Do you think people who say “we don’t watch television” at play dates but really mean “we just watch DVDs” are lying liars from Liarville?

My theory on play dates? Do What You Need to Do to Survive and Stay Sane. We recently had a play date during which things got a little crazy. I quietly slipped a movie into the DVD player, and within minutes the girls were sitting down, snacking (on fruit! really!), and NOT arguing. After finishing their snacks, all was well, and the movie was turned off.

5. How many miles have you driven with your child and not one device of electronic entertainment in a single car trip?

250 miles. (We have never used electronic entertainment during car trips. Color me curmudgeonly!)

6. What’s your record for calls to the pediatrician or Ask-a-Nurse in a single day?

Three. Meredith was very ill when she was six months old, and I really don’t want to talk about it. Bad memories. (I spent most of that weekend rocking her in the rocking chair and reading East of Eden. Meredith LOVES that book!)

7. What’s the sexiest thing your partner could text you after a hard day?

“My car is loaded with Delhi’s Chaat.”

8. What’s your favorite iPad joke?

I was going to write my OWN joke that had something to do with how Momspotters NEED iPads, but then I cringed and made hot tea instead. You’re welcome.

9. What’s the dumbest parenting tool, gear, gadget or device you ever bought?

A bottle warmer. I nursed both of my kids, and neither of them ever took a bottle. (Several years passed during which I couldn’t leave the house for more than two hours at a time. I was really fun to be around during those years.)

10. How many years will it take for your child to become more tech-savvy than you?

It won’t take long. My six year old is already using the Internet for research, and both kids know how to use the DVD player and the Wii. They’re fearless, which is key.

Okay. Here is where you come in. In one week, I’m going to knit a hat. If you answer the ten meme questions in my comment section, I’ll enter you in the drawing for the hat. If you answer the questions at your blog, leave a link in my comment section, and I’ll enter you in the drawing for the hat. If you tweet about it, leave the link. You’re entered. AND, if you do NOT have kids, leave a comment below just telling me that you want the stinking hat! You’re entered! (Let’s make this official. I’ll do the drawing on February 7! AND, if you win, we’ll pick out the pattern and color together!) In the meantime, feel free to visit the BlogHer Family Connections Forum! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>