Been A Long Time.....

.....since I wrote a blog. Actually it's been ages since I've had an original thought. I'm sure that's become obvious to you folks, since you keep getting older blog posts showing up in your email if you're subscribed. If you're not, I promise, I'll work on having an original thought or two before the end of this year.

My friend Phil from The Regular Guy NYC actually asked me if I was still blogging, as did my friend Mike from Papa Does Preach. Yeah, in my head I do still blog. It's getting words from my brain to this page that has proven difficult,  but I'm going to give it my best shot.

Things have been kind of crazy in my corner of the world lately. 19 has gone back to WVU for the start of her junior year. JUNIOR. What the hell? One of my most read pieces, Roots and Wings, still resonates with me and with many other parents, and I'll be going through this process not once but twice next year when 17 turns 18 and goes off to college.

God help me.

Anyway, we've had some highs and some lows at Casa Snarkfest over the past year. I'm not going to lie, my mom's death has had a tremendous impact on pretty much everything.  In the 9 months since she died, the blog has pretty much gone by the wayside. I'm hoping to turn that around but I'm going to need help. What do you want to read from me?  You're probably sick of me going on and on about my pretend boyfriend Mike Rowe.  I don't want to cry the blues about both my girls going off to college next year. I could just post pictures of puppies and kittens but that's been done. Recipes? Beauty and fashion? (hold on a sec....

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

Ok I'm back now.

So you tell me, what would you like to see on the blog. I'm taking requests. Suggest some ideas and maybe it will knock something loose in my noggin. Until then, here's a kitten for your viewing pleasure.

9 Things NOT to do at a Concert

Here are 9 rules to follow the next time you go to a rock concert (or country, or rap, whatever shit you listen to on the daily). Trust me on this. I’m almost 48 and have been to about a million concerts and have seen behavior that would make Pope Francis want to throw a punch.

    1.  Don’t get piss-eyed, falling-down drunk. I went to the Eagles Hell Freezes Over tour back in the nineties and there was a woman so drunk she threw up on the people in front of her and had to be carried out in the middle of the second song on the playlist. I don’t know about you but when I spend over $300 on concert tickets, I don’t want to get thrown up on, and I certainly don’t want to get so shit-faced drunk that I have to leave the show.

    2.    Don’t be an asshole to those around you. If you don’t like the opening act, don’t verbally abuse the singer (here’s a hint: you don’t have a mic, they can’t hear you complaining). Know who CAN hear your bitching? The folks sitting in front of you. Maybe they LIKE that opening act. Keep your negativity to yourself.

    3.     Don’t buy the pirate merchandise outside the theater. Don’t be a cheapskate. Pony up the $40 for an authorized and genuine concert t-shirt. My friend Karen and I went to see Def Leppard during the Hysteria tour in 1988 but I was too cheap to buy the official merchandise and instead bought a pirated t-shirt from some dude in the parking lot. It had an extra sleeve and it was from the Pyromania tour from 1983. Lesson learned. And if I ever grow an extra arm, that shirt will FINALLY be cool.

    4.    Don’t scream through the whole fucking show. Just don’t. You’re not 12, dude.  Screaming’s for 12 year old One Direction fans, not 40-something chicks who like their hearing. Trust me. Scream when your band comes on, then scream before the encore. But for crying out loud, not during the whole show. Some of us want to be able to actually HEAR what’s going on onstage.

    5.   DO. NOT. RUSH THE STAGE. Seriously, if you bought a ticket, that seat is YOURS. Do NOT try to squeeze your ass into my row. There is nothing that pisses me off more at a concert than some douchebag with a seat in row 19 coming up and trying to push me out of the way when I actually bought a front row seat. Just don’t do it. It’s cases like that where it should be legal to stab someone in the neck with a pencil. And I always bring pencils with me to concerts….just in case.

    6.    Don’t give me a contact high. I bought my ticket with my goddamn hard-earned money and the last thing I need is to get high off your smoke. It’s not cool. Do it in the parking lot before the show. But just know that if you do it anywhere near me, whether it’s pot, tobacco or crack, I will totally pour my beer on your joint, cigarette or pipe. Trust me on this. Nobody wants to smell like your smoke. And I really hate wasting my beer.

    7.    Don’t try to get on stage. It’s embarrassing. And if you get your ass thrown out, your friends will feel obligated to make sure you are okay, and that means they will probably leave the show early. If they do, then make no mistake, they are well within their rights to kick you in your stupid ass for being a dick. Do yourself and all your friends a favor and just stay put, okay?

    8.   Don’t fart. Just don’t. It makes everyone around you miserable. I don’t know which is worse, smelling a fart or smelling a cigarette while I’m trying to enjoy my jams.  You concert farters know who you are, don’t try to pretend it was the guy in front of you, own your smelly ass. Leave the seat, go into the aisle, do your thing and come back. Because damn.

     9.    I know this is probably a bit hypocritical, but don’t start a fight. Yes, I’ve been threatening in this post, I’ve come down pretty hard on the offenders, but trust me on this: I have been kicked out of a concert for laying hands on someone.  Ok it was a Dan Band concert but still, we were right at the stage and I did something dumb and had to eat the cost of the ticket. So keep your hands to yourself. 

I'm sure there are a ton of other offending actions one can do when at a concert, but these are the 9 that spring to mind, that piss me off and that I will call you out on for doing. You have been warned. 

Running and math don't mix.

I completed the Freedoms Run Marathon in record time!!! (for me)

My first marathon was the Marine Corps Marathon which I ran in 5:42:34. My average pace for that race was 13:03/mile. Pretty respectable for my first ever marathon.

My second marathon was the Disney Marathon and those of you who have been around awhile know that I ran the Goofy Challenge that year (Half Marathon Saturday, Full Marathon Sunday, lots of pain and suffering Monday) My time for that full marathon was something like 6:40 so that doesn't really count towards being a lickety split runner.  But I did kick ass during the half marathon with a time of 2:39:25 so I wasn't at all disappointed.

My finish time for the Freedoms Run was 5:40:22, a full 2 minutes and 12 seconds faster than my first full marathon. My average pace was 12:59/mile. I couldn't be happier about that than if Mike Rowe himself was waiting for me at the finish line to present me with my finisher's medal and a big wet sloppy kiss.

I had so much love and support that weekend, it was ridiculous. The morning started at 5:00 when I got up and dressed. My friend Susan was going to drive me to the shuttle bus to get to the starting line, but she feigned car trouble and instead told me she brought me another driver. Who should pop out from behind the car but my dear friend Jazzy Jen Powers, who came up from North Carolina just to cheer me on for my marathon. I cried when I finally realized who she was (in my defense, it was 5:30 a.m., pitch black outside and I was wearing sunglasses). She dropped me off at the shuttles with the promise of Pad Thai and wine that night, post-race. I can think of nothing better than good food and good friends to celebrate my victory.

The race started off with a little drizzle and about a mile in, it was a full on down-pour. It was during the second mile that I realized something. My washing machine is apparently not doing its job. The rinse cycle on my washer isn't getting all the detergent out of my clothes. How do I know this? Because I had, literally, a cuff of soap bubbles around each leg of my running capris from the downpour. I'm not kidding. I literally was leaving a trail of bubbles all over mile 2.

Luckily the rain eased up by mile 5, however, that's when I crossed the Potomac River and started running on the C&O Canal Towpath. The C&O that day resembled both Tough Mudder courses that I've run in the past. No lying, the towpath was nothing but 4" deep mud puddles as far as the eye can see. Normally, the towpath is one of my favorite places to run. Now, I don't care if I ever see it again. It was a muddy, slippery and dangerous mess.

At mile 15 I was able to get off the towpath and onto solid ground. That was the good news. The bad news is that at mile 15, the serious hills start, and they don't stop for another 6 miles. But more good news, my fake husband Joseph and one of my running sisters, Paula, met me at mile 15 and ran those hills with me. What a sweet blessed relief to be running with people I know and love, who were there to get me through the roughest part of the race!

My fake husband Joseph and I in the hills of Antietam Battlefield

We killed the hills of Antietam Battlefield and I was on track to PR this race after trying to do math in my head. Running and math don't mix. Just saying. Joseph left just before we left the Battlefield en route to Nutters for some ice cream while Paula and I trudged on. About 2 miles later, Paula had gotten her planned 8 miles in and she took her leave just as Joseph decided to join me again. Apparently, Nutters was closed, no ice cream for him, so what else could he do? He wanted me to PR and wanted to help make that happen.

It totally worked. I ran across that finish 2 minutes and 12 seconds faster than I did for my first full marathon. This time I was about 25 pounds heavier and 6 years older. And my family and friends were all waiting for me at that finish line. I cried as they ran the home stretch with me. PSA: running and crying are not possible at the same time, I ended up hyperventilating and nearly died.

Dear sweet baby Jesus can I stop running now??

My baby girl at the finish line, presenting me with a hug and my finishers medal

Me and the beautiful Jazzy Jen Powers who was with me at the start and the finish of my marathon

I could not have done this race without the love and support of my family, who I abandoned every Sunday from July through October for my long runs. Or Susan Reichel who biked alongside me through hill and dale, singing to me, threatening to hit me with her bike, making me coconut water concoctions that helped me survive the hot, treacherous hills of Maryland and West Virginia. Or Joseph Bertone and Paula Masters who got me through Antietam on a wet, cold October day. Or my running sister Lisa Kingsbury who is one of my biggest champions. If you sent a text, a call, a FB note, please know that your love and support meant the world to me.

The night I finished running, we did go for Pad Thai and wine, then spent the evening pretending to play cards but really gorged ourselves on more wine and chocolate (because my husband is amazing, he went to the store and bought all the chocolate he could find for us). And we laughed and talked well into the evening. It was an amazing weekend with wonderful friends and lots of pain. But all well worth it.

You can read about the events leading up to my full marathon here.

Drivin' Miss 16...

16 will be 17 soon, and a few weeks ago she got her drivers license. She aced the parallel parking part of the test early on and the lady who administered her test told me that 16 was the most confident and capable person she'd had all week taking the road test. SCORE!! And now she's Drivin' Miss 16!

She got her license on a Wednesday and school started the next day. I opted to allow her to drive my car to school. And I've allowed her to drive to school almost every day since she got her license. Some people may think I'm crazy. I'm not.

A friend of mine posted on the Facebooks that she, too, had allowed her newly-licensed driver to take her car and OH THE HUMANITY!!!!! "Why would you let your kid take your car???" "Why do YOU have to walk to the store when you have a perfectly good car???" "That's not fair to you!!!!"

People were literally freaking out on her post, criticizing her for walking to the store and letting her kid take her car to school.

First of all, it's not really anyone's call but the owner of the car. Period. If you have an opinion, that's awesome. Good on you. But what you think doesn't really make much of a difference in anyone's life but your own, or in anyone's decisions but your own.

Here's my story: I work just under a mile from my office. I am a healthy 49-year old woman with fully functioning lungs and legs. I am fully capable of walking to my job. In fact, I actually ENJOY walking to my job. It gets me out in the sunshine, gets me fresh air, vitamin D and some much needed exercise. It's helping with weight-loss and it really doesn't suck as much as some nay-sayers would like you to think.

I also believe it's building my daughter's confidence. I have faith in her ability, I know she is careful, I know that she's capable and I know that it makes her feel good that I trust her enough to take my car to school. It also saves ME the trouble of having to go pick her up after sports or band practice every afternoon. If I continue driving her everywhere, she will not get the experience OR THE CONFIDENCE to do it for herself.

If it's raining, girlfriend gets to ride the bus and then I will go and pick her up from practice when I get out of work. But if it's a beautiful day outside, and I could use the exercise, and she could use the confidence building, why not let her drive? If she has her license but I drive her everywhere, what purpose does that serve? What experience is she getting?

So to all of the nay-sayers, I say this: it's none of your business if someone allows their kid to drive their car. If you have a child, parent that child. But don't judge another parent for their parenting decisions.



If you enjoyed this post, you may also find some humor in the story of my dueling GPSs.

Listen To Your Mother videos are up!!

Back in April I had the privilege of being onstage with some of the most talented and beautiful women I've had the pleasure and fortune to meet. We bonded over Mexican lunches, we laughed and cried and prayed with one another and became sisters.  Their strength and resiliency inspires me to be a better writer, a better wife and mother and a better human being.

Some of my sisters are bloggers, some writers, some vloggers but all are amazing and speak from the heart. So here is my video of  my piece called "Roots and Wings."  I hope you enjoy it. I actually cried the first time I watched it, and I've read the damned thing about 9000 times, but seeing myself read it kind of blew me away.

When you finish mine video, stick around and watch the others. I promise you, you will not be disappointed. You will laugh with Sara Farrell Baker and Vera Ezimora, you'll cry with Shamel Riley Gravely, Lisa Martin, Jamice Holley and Terri Jackson, and you will be moved to action by Aliya, Andria Nacina Cole, Michelle Bond and Samantha Payne, and I hope you will be as proud as I am of Michelle A. Dowell-Vest, whose piece "Mitochondrial Semantics" has been named as one of BlogHer's Voices of the Year.

Fear the Stick Shift!

Last week one of my co-workers drove a different car to the office and left his parking permit in his other vehicle. He was scheduled to go into a meeting that we knew would run over the time frame where parking is allowed without a permit in our little burg, so he asked if I would be able to move the car for him. "Sure" I said, knowing that it would be no big deal.

Guess again.

When the time came, I took his key and walked to his car. I got in, buckled my seat belt (safety first!) and looked down at the gear shifter. Sweet Freaking Felix, it was a stick shift! Without a word of exaggeration, it's been 28 years since I've had to manually shift the gears on a car. It's always been my contention that if they MAKE a car that automatically shifts itself into gear, who am I to buck the system and do it myself? I'd hate for the guy who installs the automatic transmission to be put out of a job, so I buy the car that has automatic transmission so he gets to keep his job. I'm all about the economy, folks.

Perhaps I should explain my irrational fear of the stick shift.

Back in the late 80's, I had a '74 Chevy Vega, a little grey thing with red hubcaps. Yes, red. It was a sweet little ride. It didn't matter that you had to open the hood, unscrew the carburetor and stick a pencil inside to hold open the choke to start it. Every. Time. Some call it a pain in the ass. I call it character. My little red-hubcapped character. She was an automatic and I didn't care that I had to jump through so many hoops just to get her started. She was mine. Until she died. (RIP little grey).

My next car was given to me by my Mom's old boyfriend who felt sorry for me (not sorry enough to buy me a sweet NEW ride, but sorry enough. Whatever). It was a '77 Buick Nighthawk special edition Skyhawk. And it was a stick shift. I had to learn how to drive a stick shift. Now it is my opinion that EVERYONE should at least have a basic knowledge of how to drive a stick shift, on the off chance that they are with someone who drives a stick and that person becomes unable to drive. It's a good theory.

But let's be honest. If you're lazy like me, you enjoy the automatic transmission. You prefer it. I know I do. But the car was free and I needed a car to get to and from work, so I gratefully accepted the gift. I don't remember much about the car (it started without me having to do the pencil in the carburetor thing so that was a plus) other than to get the car to go into reverse, you had to left up on this lever on the gear shifter while pushing the shifter all the way to the right and down. It took practice. Lots of practice. Parallel parking sucked. Hard.

Just when I thought I had mastered the art of going backwards, something went 'pop' in the transmission. And then I couldn't go backwards anymore. Now, that may not necessarily sound like a bad thing, but trust me.  It's bad. You can only pull into parking spaces that are on the street, and then pray to whatever God you're worshipping that no one parks in front of you.

"Hello boss? Hi, yeah, I may be a little late to work today. Why? Oh, because there's someone parked in front of me and I can't move my car. Backwards? Oh, you mean reverse? Nah, that's not possible. Sorry. I don't go that way."

"Hello? Unemployment?"

So yeah, when your car doesn't go backwards, it causes financial hardships. I drove the car to the repair shop, but gave the repair guy plenty of advanced notice that once pulled IN, unless he fixed the transmission, there was no going back. Literally.

Somehow, dude managed to fix what he called 'a problem with the linkage'. Linkage apparently means the go-backwards-thingy in the transmission. But he did warn me that it could happen again. That guy was totally psychic! Because it totally DID happen again. Three more times.

The last time was the BEST though. Whatever crazy magic voodoo that was happening with the linkage caused that car to then ONLY GO IN REVERSE. That's right. The car would not go forward, no matter what gear it was in. Now that right there, that's a bigger problem than not going in reverse at all.

Long story short, the local car dealership was having a 'Push Pull or Drag It In' sale so I had the car towed in, and they actually gave me $500 towards a trade in for a new car. I bought myself a sweet new '88 Mercury Tracer. Automatic.

So you can see why I have an irrational fear of stick shifts. I like being able to go both forward AND backward when I'm driving. Call me crazy.

Remind me to tell you about the time my '88 Mercury Tracer caught fire in my driveway. That's a blog for another day....

Ms. Snarkfest Goes To Washington!

So this happened:

A few weeks ago I was contacted by the folks at BlogHer/SheKnows Media about the possibility of attending an event at the White House with Michelle Obama. And I was all like, yeah, I GUESS I could do that. And then I immediately forgot about it. Until yesterday. Yesterday I received an email telling me that I was cordially invited to show up at the White House next Tuesday to meet with the First Lady, the FLOTUS, Mrs. Michelle O-FREAKING-BAMA!!! Seriously.

The first thing I thought was, crap, I'm already taking off work this Friday so I don't want to ask my boss for ANOTHER day off so soon. My husband actually talked me out of declining the invitation. I believe his words were something like "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? DO YOU GET INVITED TO THE WHITE HOUSE EVERY WEEK?? I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE EVEN THINKING OF NOT GOING!!!"

Hmmmm, perhaps he's onto something. I'm 48. I've never ACTUALLY BEEN invited to the White House before. And this MAY be my one and only chance. So, um, yeah, I guess I'll go.

The actual purpose of the meeting is to have a conversation about Mrs. Obama's Let's Move! Campaign to help kids and families live healthier lives. In my opinion, any excuse to get kids off the couch, away from their mobile devices, computer screens or video games is a good excuse. Mrs. Obama has 2 teenage girls, and so do I. It's like we were meant to be best friends. So I'm going to go to the White House and meet her and hopefully have my question answered about the future of the Let's Move! Campaign once she and the President have left the White House.

Whatever your political feelings are, I don't care. This isn't about what you think about her husband, or her ideas for school lunches. This is about a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to go to the President's house, maybe eat a Presidential danish, drink some Presidential coffee and meet the President's wife. How freaking cool is this??

Blog posts and pictures will be up after the event so stay tuned!

Hello...........It's me

The one who hasn't had an original idea since the early 80's.  When I was younger and free.

Okay I'll stop now. But seriously, the holidays have come and gone, as has my college freshman. We dropped her off this past weekend and now it's time to take down the decorations and put the holidays away for another year.

In other news, we've had this awful smell coming from the basement, and we're fairly certain that something died down there. The stench has slowly started to dissipate, thankfully, because I was this close to calling a priest to perform an exorcism down there. Because damn. The problem is that our basement is a catchall. Don't know what to do with something? Throw it in the basement, we'll deal with it later. And now the basement could pass for the latest episode of Hoarders.  So locating the offending odor has been difficult.

The world is mourning the loss of David Bowie today. One of my dear friends was a huge Bowie fan when I was in high school and I hold her responsible for helping to shape my musical tastes. I went to my very first concert with her at JFK Stadium in Philly where we saw Madness and The Police. This was in August of 1983. I blame her for making me a concert whore. She also took me to my first Duran Duran concert in March of 1984. So when we all heard the news of Bowie's passing, my thoughts went to her because she was such a fan.

What else is new? Oh yeah, I've started getting back to running and trying to get myself into a shape other than round. You'd be proud of me: Since the beginning of January I've run over 26 miles. I'll run the Marine Corps Historic Half Marathon in May like I do every year, but my running goal for 2016 is to run the Freedoms Run Full Marathon in October. That race is 16 miles of flat ground on the C&O Canal followed by about 5 miles of nothing but ugly ass hills. Good times.  But I totally need this goal because.... my ass.

I recently hosted Norine of Science of Parenthood for my annual Moms Night Out, only this time it was a book tour that brought the moms out. Norine and her writing partner Jessica are promoting their new book, which is very cool. I met these two funny ladies at BlogU14 where they were voted "Most Likely to get a Book Deal". And now they have a book deal! I'm hoping at this year's blogging conference, BlogU16 I'll be voted "Most Likely to be Hired as Mike Rowe's Close Personal Assistant". Hey, a girl can dream, right?

So now you're pretty much all caught upon what's been happening at Casa Snarkfest. Bear with me as I find my voice again. I'm sure it's there, it's probably just buried under boxes of Christmas decorations. Until then, Happy 2016 folks!

Then this happened.

I really need to concentrate more when I dole out chores. Seriously.

Merry Christmas! Did you eat yet??

Merry Christmas, Snarklings! If you're a regular visitor to the old SnarkfestBlog you'll know that I am NOT a food blogger. Do I love to eat? HELL YEAH! But I don't blog about food. Until right now. I'm going to share with you a recipe that I've made since 2000.  And everywhere I go with this recipe, people love it. LOVE. IT.

I found it in a magazine called Taste of Home back in 2000 when my mother in law gave me a subscription (remember magazines??)  The first time I made it, my husband and kids liked it. Then I brought it to a Christmas party and I was practically mauled for the recipe. I've since made this dessert every year and it continues to spread joy and expanded waistlines everywhere it goes. Trust me when I tell you, it's REALLY EASY. I don't do difficult recipes. I'm lazy like that.

So from my family to yours, have a very Merry Christmas and enjoy this delicious treat. And if you like it, share it and come back and tell me if you liked it.

Photo courtesy of Taste of Home Magazine Online

Ingredients: 
FOR CRUST: 
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/3 cup sugar
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
2/3 cup chopped macadamia nuts (I buy the small bag and chop them in a chopper or food processor)

FOR FILLING: 
8 oz. package cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 can (15 oz.) pear halves, drained
cinnamon/sugar mix

 Making the good stuff: 
 
1. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in vanilla. Gradually add flour to the creamed mixture, then stir in the nuts.

2. Press into a greased 8" square pan. Bake at 350°  for 20 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool on a wire rack about 20-30 minutes.

3. In a small bowl, beat cream cheese until smooth. Beat in the sugar, egg and vanilla. Pour over crust.

4. Cut pears into thin slices (about 1/8" thin); arrange in a single layer over the filling. Sprinkle cinnamon/sugar mix generously over the pears.

5. Bake at 375° for 28-30 minutes (center will be soft-set and will become firmer upon cooling). Cool on a wire rack for 45 minutes. (Your house will smell AMAZING!!!!)

6. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before cutting. Store uneaten (WHAT??) dessert in the fridge. Yields 16 bars.

An open letter to football broadcasters...

Dear Sports Broadcasters at NBC, CBS, ABC, Fox, ESPN, ESPN2, The Ocho, ETC.....

Why don't you show marching bands performing at halftime during your football broadcast?

Let me break it down for you: According to the NCAA Division 1 Wiki page, there are about 85 team members on an average college football team. In contrast, in some colleges and universities there are 4 times that many marching band members. I'm not good at math but that's a lot of potential eyes.

You folks show play after play when the ball is on the field. You show the play, you show the replay, you show the replay from the 35 different camera angles you have. But at halftime, you don't show the marching band. Why??

My girl. I bought the pic.

As a parent of a member of the Pride of West Virginia Mountaineer Marching Band I'm really quite annoyed at you. You see, last Sunday, my daughter along with the other 300+ members of the Pride traveled to Pittsburgh to perform their pregame and halftime show for the Steelers home opener against the San Francisco 49ers. The Steelers game was not televised in my area (only the Redskins game was televised, every other sports channel had water polo or some other 'sport'). I was struggling to find the Steelers game online and finally came across a shady and suspicious site that was live streaming the game, and I'm sure my computer is now infected with about 5 dozen viruses. And for what? You didn't even bother to MENTION that the band was performing. For those kids, it was the chance of a lifetime performing at Heinz Field. But for you, it meant nothing.

My daughter's old high school band director has some souped up Sunday NFL package where he gets to see every second of every Sunday football game and he, too, was watching the Steelers game, looking for the WVU band. But alas, they showed no band. Oh wait, I'm lying. He DID tell me that they showed the band for about 3 seconds but there was no sound. Only the endless droning of the football commentators rehashing what we may have missed in the first half.

Look, if I'm watching a football game, I'M WATCHING IT WITH MY EYES OPEN. You DO NOT have to tell me what happened in the first half. I was sitting right there watching it. I saw it, I'm not an idiot. Sometimes I'm even drinking and I STILL remember what I saw. It's crazy but I really don't want to watch highlights of plays I JUST SAW. I WANT TO SEE THE BAND.

Let me get back to those numbers I mentioned at the beginning of this rant letter. Imagine, for a moment, how high your ratings would be if you just showed the marching band's halftime performance! 300 band kids out there, with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, associates, band directors, and we ALL WANT TO SEE OUR KIDS ON THE FIELD. That's literally tens of thousands of eyes on your broadcast, waiting patiently to watch our kids.

I promise you, I am not taking anything away from the football players. I love football players, I wrote about one here. But the band members work their asses off every single day to perfect their music, their show, they bring so much joy and entertainment to so many people. It's just a shame that this entertainment isn't ever shown on your broadcast. I'm not just talking about pro football, I'm talking about ALL football broadcasts. Let's show some respect to the band programs out there and get some cameras on these young men and women!

Yours truly,
Snarkfest

It's Really 10 Months: Special Delivery

Hey Snarklings, I'm in a new anthology that was released yesterday, and I could NOT be anymore excited about it, even if Mike Rowe showed up at my house wearing nothing but a smile. THAT'S how excited I am!

This book is available right now. You can download it or buy a hard copy but whatever you do, however you get it, you need to GET. IT. Seriously, I have literally been laughing out loud at the stores I've read. Here are a few excerpts from the book to give you a taste of what's to come.

And here's mine:

We are so proud of this book and I want to shout about it from the rooftops. However, my HOA has strict rules about that, so I'll just write  about it instead. Purchase your copy today! If you want a personalized copy, I've got 'em!! Just email me at terib19 @ gmail .com

10 Things Younger Than This Popcorn...

My husband was cleaning out the pantry at his parents house last weekend and he sent the girls home with a little care package. Among the various treats were several boxes of popcorn. One in particular caught my attention. Why? Because it's older than my marriage.  By a lot.

You see, we were married in May of 1995. As you can see from this picture, there was a contest on the popcorn box to win tickets to the Super Bowl in 1995, which means the popcorn was actually made sometime in 1994, at least.

Popcorn circa 1994, newspaper dated July 2015. My teeth hurt.

That got me to thinking about this box of popcorn and the many things that came after its creation. So here is a list of things younger than this box of popcorn.

1. My 17 year old daughter who is leaving for college this Sunday. She was born in 1997, at least 3 years after this box of popcorn was put on the shelf.

2. My marriage.

3. Justin Bieber. This box of popcorn is probably older than Justin Bieber, who was born in early 1994. **shudders

4. The Macarena was released the same year as this popcorn. I like the Macarena better than 21 year old popcorn. It's more relevant.

5. The 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta occurred 2 years after this popcorn was put on a shelf.

6. The show Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? The popcorn was 5 years old when Regis Philbin asked "Is that your final answer?"

7. Haley Joel Osment saw dead people in The Sixth Sense in 1999, 5 years after Orville made this box of popcorn.

8. Monica Lewinsky had a messy dress thanks to Bill Clinton at least 4 years after this snack sat on a shelf in my in-laws house.

9. My Phillies won the World Series in 2008, quite possibly 14 years after my mother-in-law thought they'd enjoy this tasty, buttery snack.

10. This box of popcorn is older than Danny Bonaduce's short-lived tv talk show, Danny! as well as Michael Jackson's marriage to Lisa Marie Presley.

This is one old-ass box of popcorn. I wonder if it's worth anything? (besides big dental bills for all the broken teeth we'll suffer if we try to eat it)

Considering we just watched Super Bowl 50, Super Bowl 1995 will be in 1445 years. Wonder if this will still be good?

The Mike Rowe interview in its 7-part entirety...

What up, Snarklings? In honor of it being just over a  year since I put all of the pieces of my Mike Rowe interview together, and because there are MANY more of you now, I'm bringing back this post from last summer. I hope you enjoy watching this interview as much as I enjoyed doing it.

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Happy weekend, Snarklings. Feeling lazy today, and although I've got a butt-load of stuff I need to get done, I'm sitting at my computer thinking of opening up The Netflix and catching up on the last few seasons of Bones. I said I was thinking about doing that. I'm not really going to. What I AM going to do is put all 7 parts of my interview with Mike Rowe up for your viewing pleasure, because if I'm feeling lazy and not very productive, I'm going to guess that I'm not the only one. I'm thinking that there might be 116 or so of you who may want to go back with me and re-watch the whole thing from start to finish. So without further ado, I present to you all 7 video clips of my unedited, uncut and totally fun interview with Mike Rowe. Enjoy.

Oh, and check out what Mike had to say about the interview!!

I Am the Sandwich Generation

One month ago, I had never even heard the term 'sandwich generation'. Now I'm living it. If you're unfamiliar with the term, you're not alone. But I'm a fast learner so now I'm hip to the term. Basically it means you have children you're caring for AND parents you're caring for.

I've talked before about my Mom's battle with COPD, a battle that she's slowly losing. But just over a month ago, she fell and broke her left humerus. Snapped it like a twig when she was walking into the bathroom in the lobby of her building. After a 4 day stay in the hospital, they moved her to a rehabilitation facility where she stayed for exactly 20 days (the maximum amount of time that Medicare would cover).

After 17's high school graduation we had a bit of a reprieve from schedules and running here and there. 17 is working now, mastering the art of the perfect DQ Blizzard and getting mentally prepared for life as a college student. 15 has been enjoying sleeping in and not being responsible for much other than her daily 'to-do' list. My focus hasn't been so much concentrated on parenting my teenagers as much as it's been caring for my own Mother. It's a scary proposition for me. I thank God daily that I've got good kids. They are responsible, well-mannered and usually trouble-free (unless you count the daily school bus drama but we're not talking about that right now). They are at a very self-sufficient age which has allowed me the freedom to concentrate on my Mother's healing.

I spent all last week with her, setting up appointments,  scheduling home healthcare workers, physical therapists, doctors and nurses, running errands, picking up prescriptions, doing her laundry and preparing her meals. I jumped into the sandwich generation with both feet. I am the meat in that sandwich. And it scares me to death. I ached to be away from my girls for so long but it was something I wanted and needed to do, to care for my Mother.

I cannot begin to imagine how this would all play out if my kids were delinquents. But I am blessed that they aren't. I learned parenting from a fantastic teacher, one who needs me now more than my own children need me. And now that I am home, 4 hours away from my Mother, I ache to be with her. My heart hurts to be so far away from her. Our twice-a-day calls will need to be enough for now. I constantly remind her to check the schedule we've written up so she knows which home healthcare worker will be coming in, or what time the physical therapist will come. I remind her to make sure she has her bag on the doorknob for Meals on Wheels delivery. And I worry.

I worry that she's alone in the apartment all weekend long. She is no longer capable of using her walker because of the broken arm. Once it's healed up, she will be able to walk down to the mailbox for her mail. But with a broken arm, she cannot push the walker, and the walker holds her oxygen tank, and without the oxygen there is no breathing for her. She uses a cane to get around her apartment.

I can't remember having so much fear. When I had my babies, I feared that I'd fail, but I didn't. I succeeded and still continue to succeed as a parent. I am blessed. But the paralyzing fear that my Mom isn't safe, it's something I never knew I'd have and it's an awful feeling. I pray that she'll eventually want to come to live either with us or closer to us. That door is always open to her, and I hope she changes her mind, and I hope it doesn't take something drastic like, God forbid, another fall to make her change her mind. 

Until then, the twice-a-day phone calls will have to suffice, and the prayers continue for her safety.

BlogU15, Gift Cards and Charity...

Happy Friday, Snarklings. I'm so excited to let you know that I survived BlogU15 and came home with a brainful of knowledge that I will probably sit on until I have some free time to put all that knowledge to use. For example, I took a class on SEO that sorta made sense to me and I will attempt to use what I learned. If I can remember. That was taught by the always hot and sexy Lynn Morrison of The Nomad Mom Diary.

I also took a Pinterest class taught by the amazing Anna Luther of My Life & Kids. I learned about Rich Pins and putting descriptions on all of your pins and using images instead of just text. And then my brain exploded.

Once I was able to pick up all the pieces, I partied like it was 1980 (my middle school years) at the NickMom MiddleSchoolAwkward Dance Party. TREMENDOUS fun was had by all and as much as I'd like to say that I danced my ass off, sadly, when I woke up Sunday morning, it was still there.

Slow dancing with Alyson of The Shitastrophy

I had the pleasure of recreating one of my very favorite photos from the previous year's blogging conference with my sexy girlfriend Kerry Rossow of House TalkN. 

It was an absolute blast to get to meet new friends and hang out with old friends. Plus the always amazing Joy from Evil Joy Speaks spent Sunday at my house! We went for a run together on Monday and had an obscene amount of fun as roomies.

You can read about last year's BlogU14 recap here!

One REALLY cool thing I'd like to mention is that Giant Foods generously donated a swag bag filled with all sorts of yummy foods to all the attendees who stayed in the dorms at the university. Also in those bags were $20 Gift Cards which could be used at any Giant, Martins, Pea Pod or Stop & Shop. Now, Giant is a regional supermarket in my corner of the states but it's not nationwide. The attendees of BlogU15 WERE from all parts of the country and even the world!

This means that some of those $20 Gift Cards would go to waste. And you know I'm not having any of that nonsense. So I contacted many of our BlogU15 attendees who do not have any of those grocery stores where they live and offered to collect them to donate to charity. I'm pleased to say that right now, at least a dozen of those awesome and generous bloggers have come through and are right now as we speak sending me their unused gift cards.

I'll be donating them to my friend Siobhan who works at the Catholic Charities in Martinsburg, WV. In her words this is Catholic Charities:


....a non profit social service organization. (No, one need not be Catholic - or any religion, for that matter, to receive services and there is no proselytizing either.) We provide emergency assistance for people who are about to lose electric, gas, housing, etc who are already living well below the federal poverty guidelines, which is about $24,300 for a family of 4 to give you an idea of how many are living. We also, as you know, have a personal care closet - again for those who can't afford the basics and are struggling. In conjunction, we offer case management and programs for those who come in need. Our goal is to provide the resources to help those in need work towards a better life, without having to rely so much on others. The gift cards would be wonderful because we are updating our personal care closet guidelines beginning July 1, we will begin to automatically distribute toothbrushes and toothpaste to clients who need to access the closet. There's a limit to how many items they can request and can access twice a year. But dental hygiene is so very important as a health issue, so being able to keep these items well stocked is imperative. The other thing they would be awesome for is this: as clients move through case management and learn how to better themselves. For example being able to provide a small gift card to a single parent, trying to raise children, work and make ends meet on minimum wage can make a tremendous difference!! 

 We are not a shelter, but we work closely with the existing ones. We provide a place for those in need to take a shower/do laundry. The cards could also help pay for prescriptions at Martin's, which is a challenge for some of our older clients. So many great things could be done.
Here's what I'm hoping may happen. The folks at Giant were kind enough to donate these gift cards, and for each gift card that is donated to Catholic Charities, I'd be THRILLED if Giant would match the donation. So right now I've got 12 gift cards coming my way to give to Catholic Charities. That's $240. How awesome would it be for Giant to match that $240 so that Catholic Charities could receive $480? No pressure, Giant folks, I know you were awesome enough to donate all those gift cards and all the yummy treats to the swag bags, but $480 would go a lot farther than $240. Just saying.

And just so you all know, I was not paid or compensated at all to write this post. I just want to say how awesome my fellow bloggers are for donating the cards they cannot use to this awesome organization, and how even more fantastic it would be to see Giant match these donations.

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EDIT: Here's where I tell you that it PAYS TO ASK!!!! Giant has been in touch with me and they are offering $260 in additional gift cards to bring the total donated from the BlogU15 gift bags to $500!!!! THANK YOU GIANT for your generosity. The folks at Catholic Charities are very grateful to you and to the other bloggers who are donating their gift cards!

Buying One Direction

File this one under: HOLY CRAP, REALLY???

I'm scouring the Twitterverse for stuff regarding One Direction's horrible, terrible, really bad news yesterday that Zayn Malik has left the band. I'll give you all a moment to recover. Get yourself a Kleenex and clean the ugly cry off your face.

And I found this.
 

For those of you who don't care to click the link, let me make it simple for you. One Direction fans want to buy the band's contract from their management (who apparently, Directioners HATE).  So far as of the writing of this great piece of literature, $602 has been raised to buy the boys out of their contract. The goal of this GoFundMe campaign? $877.7 million. Go ahead, take another moment. I'll wait.

I love teenage girls. I truly do. They can do anything they put their teenaged minds to. However, if I find out my kids have donated to buy One Direction out of their contract, I will flip my shit.

If you don't have a teenage daughter and really have no clue what's happening, here's the Snarknotes version (like Cliff's Notes without Cliff):  Apparently Zayn wanted some downtime and his horrible bosses at the management company were all like: "No you'll tour, you'll spend months away from your loved ones, you'll make us gadjillions of dollars and you will like it!! MWAHAHAHAHA"

And Zayn was like, "Screw you, dudes, I wanna take a nap in my own bed" so he flew back to the UK and took an unauthorized nap. Next thing you know, the management company was all "You broke the rules,  you're kicked out. You're not in the club anymore!" And then Zayn was all like: "Ok" because Zayn really likes napping in his own bed.

Then the world exploded.

I think it's awesome that the fans hate the band's management and wanna stick it to the man. I really admire their tenacity. And believe me, I honestly DO believe these kids may have a chance at reaching their goal. But then what? Let's say they reach $877.7 million. Will the management company really sell the contract? No. They won't.

But then there will be $877.7 million sitting in this GoFundMe account. So I'm going to come up with some ideas that they can use that money for:

1. Get Harry a haircut
2. Pay off my credit card bills and still have a few dollars to spare
3. Feed the poor and hungry
4. House the homeless
5. Buy my kid a car that does more than serve as a paperweight
6. Spay and neuter all the puppies and kitties in the world
7. Give it all to ME so I can move to Utah and marry Mike Rowe legally while still being married to my own husband.

Wait, that's not how polygamy works? DAMMIT!

Nevermind, this whole thing is silly.

I'm sorry that Zayn has left the band, no matter what the circumstances are, I do totally understand. Back when I was a teenager (when I rode my stegosaurus to school) and Duran Duran was the big band of the moment, their drummer Roger Taylor left the band to pursue peace and quiet (he went on to become a sheep farmer, out of the spotlight, much like Zayn wants to). I hope Zayn's not allergic to sheep.

I digress. Anyway, Roger Taylor left the band soon after their performance at Live Aid. John Taylor and Andy Taylor (NO THEY ARE NOT ALL RELATED) moved over to become Power Station with Robert Palmer (and some other guy whose name escapes me at the moment). It wasn't until 2005 that the whole band reunited. This little bit of information did NOT make my daughters feel any better last night when I explained it to them. "We have to wait 20 years for them to get back together???"

Anyway, if you have an extra $5 and want to be in band management, click the link up there. I think everyone who donates should get a private One Direction concert in their backyards. How cool would THAT be?

How I spent my 2014...

As we near the end of another year, it's time to look back on the stupid shit I did this year and vow to NOT do it again in the New Year. Like good news, bad news. Good news: I lost 30 pounds!! Bad news: I gained almost 18 of those lost pounds back. Dumbass.

But it wasn't all about weight. I did some good stuff that DIDN'T involved a scale. I went to my very first blogging conference and met THE most AMAZING folks! I got stuck in a dress at Goodwill preparing for that conference. I got my picture taken with Mike Cruse from Papa Does Preach and we looked like the crazy couple on an insane wedding cake.

Mr. & Mrs. Tacky McTackerson

I broke the 5000 mark for Facebook fans which is really cool, but only about 12 of them actually SEE my updates, which totally sucks. I'm thinking of just circumventing FB's lousy algorithms and just make a Snarky group. What do you think? Oh and one more cool thing, I've only had to ban ONE FB freak for posting about cheap sunglasses (which is a rocking ZZ Top song but not something my FB friends need to be seeing). Yay me!!

In 2014 I vowed to read a bunch of books. And failed miserably. I suck. I used to read like a beast. And then I had these kids and they wanted to go places and do things, and my books were all like, "Bitch, what about us?" and I was like "I'm sorry books, but they need me" and the books were all "So? We need you too and we were here first" and my kids were like "Mom why are you talking to your books when we're waiting to go to basketball practice." So the kids won this round and I stopped paying attention to my books. Sorry books. Maybe next year? You guys just sit there on the shelves collecting dust that I probably won't clean and I'll get to you. I promise.

I actually made a small amount of money this year with my writing! YAY!!! Money rocks!!! And I got a little more exposure with posts featured on Mamalode, In The Powder Room and Huffington Post. I'm not setting the world on fire but it's cool to see my stuff on other places besides this little page here.

I successfully made it through another year without selling my kids to gypsies, which I consider a victory. If they still are alive and I can use them as tax write-offs every December 31, I pat myself on the back and drink another glass of Malbec. Monday I came pretty close to leaving 17 in the airport forever. We went through separate security lines and they found a bottle of her favorite Bath and Body Works lotion in her carry-on. I made the horrific mistake of forgetting to tell her she couldn't carry-on liquids, so they confiscated her lotion and the TSA agent is probably now smelling like my daughter. Since we were in separate lines, 17 called me and said "You never told me I couldn't bring it on and they took it and it's discontinued and I'll never be able to replace it, so thanks." and I was all like: "CLICK"

She called me back 3 times. I hung up on her all 3 times until the 4th time when she apologized. After her flight took off, I went online and bought her 6 bottles. No shit. It may be discontinued but....internet. She may smell like a French whore bathing in donkey shit, but I found 6 bottles of it.

Oh, and there was one other really cool thing that happened in 2014 that you may or may not have heard about.

I MET MIKE ROWE!!!!

We're using this as our Christmas card next year. What do you think?

I actually did. I got to interview him when he was at the STEM conference in Washington DC and it was AWESOME!!! You can see all 7 parts of the interview here, and you can learn his stripper name, and why he'll never Dance with the Stars. He was truly fantastic and meeting him was one of the UBERHIGHLIGHTS of my year. Uberhighlight isn't a word but I don't care. It was awesome.

So there you have it, my year in review. It was a pretty amazing year and I look forward to what 2015 has in store for us all.

Happy New Year, Snarklings and thanks for joining me on this ride!! See you next year!!

Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens....

Blah blah blah, these are a few of my favorite things.

Dumbass under my bed

I don't do a real good Julie Andrews impression. As a matter of fact, when I was in either 7th or 8th grade, our high school was putting on the play The Sound of Music and was looking for elementary kids to audition. My friend Sue (who could sing circles around me) convinced me to try out for the play as one of the Von Trapp kids. I don't remember if Sue made it but I certainly did not. I bombed my audition when my voice cracked as I tried to hit the high notes. Instead of it sounding beautiful and melodious when I sang Do Re Mi, it sounded more like DON'T, You're Raping My Ears. Suffice it to say, that was the beginning and the end of my career in the theater.

Anyway, I'm digressing from the point of today's post (and I really DO have a point, I just usually take forever getting around to it). I want to tell you about some of MY favorite things, and they don't include raindrops OR whiskers. Whiskey, maybe, but not whiskers.

In no particular order, I present to you, some of my favorite things:

Watching my kids perform. Doesn't matter if they are playing volleyball, basketball, track or music. One of my very favorite things is seeing them use their talents. When they were younger and played soccer, nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing them dribble the ball up the field, pass it back and forth with their teammates and then take that shot and watch the ball whiz past the goalie. More recently, I love watching them stand on the foul line and take a free throw that is the go-ahead shot in the game. And don't even get me started on seeing them perform music with their respective bands. Since I am not even remotely athletically or musically inclined it just makes me so proud that they HAVE talent and USE that talent.

14, my volleyball star
Photo courtesy of Brian Englebright

16, my hurdling hero
Photo courtesy of Rollie Jacobs

Baking on a hot beach, on a lounge chair with my feet in the ocean. Seriously, it's awesome and something I wish I could do more of, but sadly, when you live 4 hours from the closest ocean, it's a little difficult. When I lived in Ocean City, NJ I didn't do this NEARLY as much as I should have. Another thing that just melts my butter is tubing along on a lazy river with friends or family. Last summer, I tubed the Potomac with some amazing friends for about 4 hours. We relaxed, drank, laughed and had a blast.

Spending time with this crew, doing things together, or just sitting and watching TV when we're all in the same room. I bitch and moan about them but I love them to bits and love spending time with them. Things are going to be mighty different next year when 16 becomes 17 and graduates from High School. Totally not ready for that, so I will enjoy the time we have between now and then. 

My crew in Disney from 2012

This guy. This picture.

Me, carrying Mike Rowe, wanting to never put him down.

These three. They never fail to bring a smile to my face on a daily basis. If they didn't shed so damn much, life would be close to perfect.

My Henry

My Cosmo

My Dumbass

And I'm just saying, when the dog bites or the bee stings, I'm not just feeling sad, I'm pretty freaking pissed off. Remembering my favorite things when my skin is hanging open from a dog bite doesn't help me not feel so bad. When a bee stings me, thinking about kitties and bright copper kettles does NOTHING to ease my pain. And those silver white winters that I thought would NEVER melt into springs??? You can keep that white shit, Julie. Keep it right over there in Vienna where it belongs. Give me 90 degree temps and a hot beach with a cool drink. THAT'S what I need to make me feel better.