I have a wedding friend who is NOT graduating!

And that's good, because apparently, I need to get back to my bloggy friends, who I've neglected for so long. You can find her blog here, at Inspirational Laddu. It's a beautiful site...thanks Samm!

So. I also got a lot into that title. Much to catch up!

I'm back from my trip and guess who was here the entire time, to keep Mr. Lulu company? You got it - it's the kamikaze robin. I've had a suggestion to nail up rubber snakes from the window pane, to scare him away.

I know that I can only scare him away because he can't have any more poop to be scared out of him - it's all over my porch furniture.

So all of you Pleasantville neighbors who think my front porch is so so pretty, with all of my 11 pots of flowers and my two gorgeous hanging ferns?

Get ready for snakeyes.

And if that doesn't work, take the kiddies away for the day, because I'm taking out a hit on the bird.

Don't worry, Peta! I'm going to just pop his little feathered butt with an air gun.

Or stun gun.

Just kidding....right?

Also, is it graduation time for all y'all? I have three family high school graduation parties this year - couldn't all those sisters-in-law have planned a bit better and spaced them all out? Sheesh.

Of course, I do get props for flying in for the festivities, and the big events are all conveniently scheduled within one weekend. So I got that going for me.

And Joanna always has good stuff on her blog and she's ahead of me with her graduation post. She's asking about advice on a graduation card for her niece, and she got some solids from her bloggy friends, so I thought I'd post my graduation advice here as well.

Wear sunscreen.
Forgive.
Be relentlessly cheerful when you feel like crap.
French fries do TOO make you feel better when hungover.
Listen.
Be curious.
When you're about to do something dangerous/scary/stupid - think about the look on your parents' faces when they read about it in the newpaper / on a bathroom wall / in Playboy.
Have enough fun to break lots of hearts.
Love enough to get your own heart broken.
Own your actions, your soul, your studies, your love, your body, your life - don't give your power away to anyone else.
Live your own life - all the others are taken.
A morning without coffee is like...sleep.

Oh the places you'll go! Read Dr. Seuss.

That's all I've got, but it's worked pretty well.

Oh - and for guys graduating?

Dude. You'll rock.

Peace out

It's almost time for summer vacation again - may have to post the travel rules soon.

So ummmm. Yeah. Just some thoughts. Friday mind farts, you might say.

Lulu's Good Reads and Good Blogs and Good Stuff and More

Reading for me, is like breathing.  I have to read.  MUST read.  Cannot-go-a-day-without-the-printed-word - type of obsession. 

I will read anything.  The back of the cereal box, the newspaper from two days ago, an airline magazine, the directions for mixing cement.  According to family legend, I started reading at age 4 and haven't stopped.  When I was young, I would go to the library weekly and check out the maximum allowed of 7 books, and then would ride my Stingray bicycle with the deckster banana seat to the bookmobile and take out seven more, balanced in the little vinyl wicker basket on the front.  My car pulls into bookstores of its own accord. If I don't have a stack of books to be read, I'm cranky and nervous.  As I'm running in heels to catch a plane I will run through the airport bookstore. I'm usually reading at least two and sometimes three at a time- well.  You get the picture.

It's interesting that I'm also hooked on reality TV.  Not saying, just saying.

So.  There is a website called Goodreads and all you hipster readers should definitely check it out.  In the not so distant past, I was obsessed with this site, and logged on at every opportunity to pick up tips on what other people were reading, to list all of my books, to talk about what I had read, what I was going to read, my reviews of these books and so on and so on and then...and then.....I stopped.  Not sure why, although it may have had something to do with realizing that many of the goodreaders were more interested in using the site for social networking than for book clubbing.  There's nothing wrong with that, it just wasn't for me.  I want to talk booksbooksBOOKS.  Phew.  Too much Starbucks at Barnes and Noble.

Dear Goodreads - we needed a break.  It's not you, it's me.  You are deckster readable.  I'm not really breaking up with you, I'm just finding my reading self somewhere else (actually, the irony is that I'm now reading all your deckster blogs out there, my fives and tens, and kind of ummmm.....well...I guess...social networking.  Blush.)

And the Pleasantville Housewives monthly book club doesn't actually discuss the books.  The invites proudly state that "most of the time, we haven't read a word of the book, but c'mon over y'all to get away from the kids and have some wine!"  

THE POINT OF THIS POST - and I do have one, as it's so much more interesting for the reader when I do - is that I'm still reading a lot of books AND reading new blogs every day AND I'm also obsessed with magazines.   

So - the pictures are of my latest stacks (already read{glasses on top} and to be read{no glasses} and please ignore the dust).  

Check out these NEW BLOGS, as I think these women have interesting things to say -  The Fifty Factor and The Flying Pinto - new deckster blogs with a different point of view.  

And finally, please look over on the right there, in my sideroll of interesting things, where you'll see more More MORE - More Magazine items to review and discuss.  This time it's a discussion regarding lying about your age - good stuff in both the print magazine and the dot.com 

Whew.  I'm exhausted.  Off to lounge on the couch on a rainy day, sniffing my new books and watching the Red Wings.  That's another obsession, for another day.

Mea Culpa Housewives!

I owe the Pleasantville Housewives an apology.  So....I'm sorry.   You probably don't get me but still - you did call and ask me to come to bunco, because I'm not traveling this week.  And although I know that I was way down on the sub list, because I've never actually played before, you sucked up a little by telling me that you missed me.  

Yeah, I fell for it.  And it was actually kind of fun.  There was wine and cheese and a mindless game and lots of gossip.  And I made a new friend, I think - she just moved into the neighborhood, she's originally from the same part of the country as me and she seems to be smart and funny.

And we mocked / simultaneously dissected the current reality shows so she's got that going for her.

Man - I am having a tough time coming out of hibernation this year!  I'm trying - I'm working out, eating pretty well - c'mon diet gods, throw a girl a few-pound weight loss, wouldja???

I think the Pleasantville Housewives Hate Me

Ok, Hate is a strong word.  They're all very nice.   And they don't hate me.

But they don't get me, absolutely not.

Because I'm never around, for carpool and playdates and working out followed by lunch, and bunco and book club and hockey tournaments.  

Because the only kid that's lived here with us was 22 at the time.  

Because I'm not on the committee to plan the Halloween party and the neighborhood garage sale and the holiday progressive party and the Cinco de Mayo party. 

Because my husband retired young to follow my job but works at three different things to keep him busy and I'm the suit in the house and travel quite a bit for my company.  

Because I'm tough to classify when the women and men break into clusters at the neighborhood happy hours that we do manage to make, and the men won't talk business with me and the women won't talk school with M even though he's a teacher.

Because I'm just a big whiny baby who is way too full of myself and the thought that someone might not like me or might actually not be thinking of me every moment but maybe is worried about the interest-only mortgage on their house and so so soooo tired of being home with the kiddos while their husbands are working or out of town.

Hmmm....maybe they DO hate me.

A committee to plan Cinco de Mayo?  Really?  Can't I just put out tacos and guacamole and tequila and a blender like I have for the past three years?

But I digress.

I am truly happy for all moms/wives/women and whatever they choose to do, and I can talk kids/carpool/school/ChuckECheese/books/crafts/finance/housing crisis - whatever - with them.  Why is it tough to connect with me?  (Ok, other than the fact that when they're having wine at night at bunco or book club, I'm usually having a vodka tonic in the airport waiting on my delayed flight.)  But still.

Maybe I'm just lonely for girl talk but don't have the energy to put in the time on these friendships right now.

Sighhhhhhh...