OldDogNewTits












Yes, that’s right. The annual Lay’s “Do Us A Flavor” potato chip tasting contest is in full swing again. (awkward pause) Wait, seriously? You guys didn’t know? Don’t you watch the nightly newscheck the AP wire … follow  your Twitter feed? It’s all anybody’s talking about.

Last year’s big winner was “Cheesy Garlic Bread,” a perfectly capable little potato chip. It beat out contenders “Chicken & Waffles” and “Sriracha” to become the newest permanent flavor added to the chip aisle in your local grocery store. And all three flavor creators received some pretty nice financial prizes, by the way.

Now, in 2014, we have not three but FOUR contestants. This is huge, my friends. Huge! And, never ones to be left out, my family has jumped right in to help pick a new winner.

Here is the new slate:

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Here are your judges:

  • My son (Dean)
  • My daughter (Vivien)
  • My husband (Dave)
  • My mother (Phyllis)
  • My father (Bill)
  • Myself

And here are our immediate, uncut and completely honest reactions:

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Dean: “Awful.”

Vivien: “Ewww.”

Dave: “Tastes like a chip that was left on a plate with some old tiramisu.”

Phyllis: “Yummy … I think.”

Bill: “Not for me. But I’m not a coffee person.”

Me: “Wow. They’re really not my cup of … coffee.” (canned laughter from studio audience that exists in my head)

*

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Dean: “Too tangy.”

Vivien: “Tastes like an awkward smoothie.”

Dave: “Tastes like they’ve been sprayed with some kind of weird, fruity perfume.”

Phyllis: “Terrible.”

Bill: “They’re … okay.”

Me: “Umm …. they’re a little odd, but I don’t mind. They’re ‘eatable.’ You know what? Just pass me the bag.”

*

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Dean: “Too strong.”

Vivien: “Hot.”

Dave: “Sushi chip.”

Phyllis: “Too salty.”

Bill: “Strange.”

Me: “Not as spicy as I expected. Still, I hate wasabi so this chip never really stood a chance. He’s the underdog.” (insert theme music to Rudy)

*

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Dean: “Easily the best.”

Vivien: “Love it.”

Dave: “Really good. This is what a chip is supposed to taste like.”

Phyllis: “Great taste, but too salty.”

Bill: “Good.”

Me: “Typical flavor. It’s a very likable potato chip. But also very predictable. Because who doesn’t like bacon? Come on, Lay’s. Challenge me.”

* * * * * * * * * *

So … what happens next? Well, the world has until October 18, 2014 to vote for its FLAVORITE. … Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Feel free to use that new term liberally, Lay’s Corporation. And send me $10 via PayPal every time you do. Or at least a bag of chips. But none of your freaky flavors. I want the GOOD stuff.

After that date, a winner will emerge to join the ranks of the other time-tested Lay’s flavors on the shelves of destiny.

Because …

* * * * * * * * * *

Oh, but I am SO submitting a flavor next year ….

* * * * * * * * * *

My apologies to the competing flavor creators as well as to Lay’s for the negative commentary. Here at ODNT, we promise always to tell the truth. Even though sometimes the truth hurts.

And you want to punch it squarely in its stupid, smug face.

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About these ads



What would you say if I told you I knew a grown woman who was totally pumped about the upcoming release of Dolphin Tale 2?

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Well, no. I’m not naming any names. But here’s a hint.

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Of course, it doesn’t hurt that …..

A. My girl and I loved the first movie. We just re-watched last month.

B. Along with Morgan Freeman, Ashley Judd and many others, Harry Connick, Jr. is one of the big stars of DT2. Hello? You guys DO know he’s from NOLA just like me, right? We just love our homeboys.

C. And guess what? Thanks to Grace Hill Media, my friend, Mel and I are AMBASSADORS for the movie. That means it’s our job to make sure you buy a ticket. So seriously, put down that kid, grab your TV remotes and get going! … Wait. Strike that. … Reverse it.

Still need convincing? Check out the trailer.

Dolphin Tale 2

Opens Friday, September 12, 2014

See you there!

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And why exactly is everyone staring at my teeth these days? Easy. Because I was recently contacted by the customer-oriented good people at Smile Brilliant to conduct a product review of their high-end tooth bleaching system. Spoiler: I loved it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Raise your hand if you’ve ever spent any alone time in the bathroom bearing your teeth at your own reflection in the mirror and wishing you had a whiter smile. To those of you sitting on your hands, I think you’re lying. Everyone wants whiter teeth. And everyone needs whiter teeth. Unless, of course, you played a paleontologist on TV in the 90s.

But enough of my tomfoolery. Let me tell you about Smile Brilliant. That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?

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When their company rep first contacted me, I was over the moon. Like I said before, who doesn’t want whiter teeth? So I accepted the job and was immediately sent a product reviewer starter kit.

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The kit contained everything I needed to take professional, dentist-quality impressions of my upper and lower teeth (as well as the gels I would be using with my custom trays once I received them). I got to work immediately.

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To make the impressions …

  1. Open one BASE paste and one CATALYST paste.
  2. Blend together.
  3. Press into mold and insert in mouth immediately.

(How great do I look here, by the way? … Hello? Christmas card!)

Notice how my hands are super blurry in that middle picture? That’s because you have to MOVE FAST. Once the pastes are combined, they waste no time hardening. Herein lies the reason that you get three sets of the stuff with your starter kit (see picture above). Because some people are spastic and will mess up the first batch by working too slowly.

How did *I* do, you ask? Well, let’s just say all six of my paste containers were empty after I made my impressions. (Sometimes I’m surprised I can dress myself in the morning.) Anyway, here’s what I sent over to Smile Brilliant in their convenient, postage-paid packaging.

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And here’s what I got back only days later.

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Before opening any of the gel packages, I tried on my new mouth trays. And they fit perfectly. (I wonder if Smile Brilliant makes jeans.) And, with that, I was ready to start illuminating my smile.

To whiten your teeth …

  1. Apply desensitizing gel (if you choose to purchase it) along inner front rim of both trays and wear for 20-60 minutes. 
  2. Apply bleaching gel in the same way and wear for 20 minutes to 3 hours. 

I’m a compulsive overachiever so I maxed out both times and completed the full process three days in a row. And I honestly saw improvement as early as the first day. From there, I whitened every other day until I hit the two week mark (for a total of nine treatments). And that was it. That was all I needed. Unless I want my teeth to glow under a black light. (see Ross Geller above)

Personally, I think my before and after pictures speak for themselves.

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(hold for laughter)

.

.

.

(you ARE laughing, right?)

.

.

.

Fine, fine. I couldn’t resist. Here are my REAL before and afters.

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Seriously, they look AMAZING, don’t they?

#conceited

#sheisSOfullofherself

#whiteteethcantfixlaughlines

#heymicheleyouneedabetterlipliner

Jealous?

Tired of hearing about MY experience?

Wish you could throw a bucket of indelible purple grape juice directly at my glistening teeth?

You needn’t stew in your own filthy envy anymore.  Because I’m giving away a gift certificate to Smile Brilliant for $119.95 right here to one lucky, yellow-toothed winner! That’s enough to get everything you need to make your own custom trays plus three syringes of bleaching gel (each good for three uses).

Click HERE to win.

You have until Tuesday, September 9, 2014 to enter.

Okay, let’s recap everything. Shall we?

  1. I LOVE this product and literally noticed a difference after one use.
  2. When making your dental impressions, work fast and have a napkin handy for, well, drool. Did I mention that earlier? (sigh)
  3. Remember that just because you can wear the bleach-filled dental trays for three straight hours doesn’t mean you should wear them for three straight hours. This stuff is the real deal and overkill can result in a little gum tenderness.
  4. Enter the contest, fools. White teeth could be yours by the end of the month!

 

* * * * * * * * * *

The ODNT Product Review Procedure:

  • Sometimes I say no … because I am not interested in the product or I don’t think it’s a good fit for me or this blog.
  • Sometimes I say yes … but determine, upon usage, that the product is a fail. So I inform the company and offer the option to part ways rather than receive the bad press. This offer is always accepted.
  • Sometimes I say yes … and I try the product and LOVE it. So I write my review. And you can rest assured that every word, every picture and every video is 100% true.

* * * * * * * * *

Because MamaKat asked me to talk about something I learned last month.

What’s mine? Home tooth whitening products aren’t all snake oil. This stuff really works!

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It’s time for THE SECOND TO LAST KETCHUP WITH US, hosted by Mel and me. The final KWU will run on September 15. Maybe it’ll come back again. But, for now, we just need a breather. Plus that ketchup costume is starting to smell.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dear Mel, 

What can I say? Well, I guess since it’s September 1st, I’ll start with HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope you’re having a wonderful birthday/Labor Day combo platter with the family. (I wonder … does it suck to have your birthday on Labor Day? I mean … what if you want to go to the post office? Or visit your local bank branch? Ooh, or have your garbage collected? You’re screwed! Well, here’s hoping none of these activities was on your birthday wish list.)

Anyway, I just wanted to take a moment to tell you how great it’s been doing KetchupWithUs, our very unconventional writing prompt, with you for two years now. (Yes, that’s right, America. KetchupWithUs is also celebrating a birthday today.) There is nobody else in the world with whom I’d rather ambush the Fifth Avenue Prada store, heckle Pat Sajak over drinks or cause confusion at the site of the Liberty Bell  … dressed as a giant ketchup bottle … than you. Your creativity,  your spunk and your sheer willingness to do just about anything (and look like a complete ass doing it) with me is mind-blowing. And I just wanted you to know how amazing and integral you are to me every single day.

Here’s to the next big adventure. I LOVE YOU, MEL BUGAJ!!! (Great, now everyone thinks I’m gay. … Not that there’s anything wrong with that!)

Your partner in dumbassery,

Michele

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I really missed our annual trip this year. So start saving your pennies. Because next year … it’s so on! :)

* * * * * * * * * *

Our esteemed Ketchup With Us Featured Writer from last time is …

MamaTo5Blessings

* * * * * * * * * *

BEHIND THE KETCHUP

Click here to read how this foolishness all began.

KEEP TRACK OF OUR STUPIDITY

SPREAD THE WORD & POST OUR BUTTON … please!

olddognewtits.com

<img src=”https://olddognewtits.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/ketchuplabel125copy2.jpg” alt=”olddognewtits.com” width=”125″ height=”125″ />

FINALLY … THE LINK-UP!

WE give you a video to inspire you to KetchupWithUs.

YOU link up something Fabulous!

And, for the love of the genius who decided to make the first Monday in September a national holiday, TELL YOUR FRIENDS!

NOTE: Mel’s KWU post is coming soon. She’s currently on the road and thus unable to type.

Two hands on the wheel, Mel!

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{August 29, 2014}   Nine Years Ago Today …

Nine years ago today, I took my kids to the Children’s Museum of Houston.

Nine years ago today, I ate (for the first time in my life) Frito Pie, compliments of Residence Inn by Marriott.

Nine years ago today, I learned how to text, very proficiently.

Nine years ago today, I cried in the arms of a stranger named Shannon.

Nine years ago today, my family was the family submitting clothing sizes and the kind of basic wish lists that you usually only see during charity adopt-a-family drives during the holiday season.

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What a difference nine years can make. Thanks again, Mound City Elementary.

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Past Katrina Posts:

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{August 21, 2014}   Dear Thing Living Under My House

Dear Thing Living Under My House,

I know you’re there. I hear you outside of my house. At all hours of the day. And night. I work from home. And sometimes, when I’m alone and it’s very quiet, I can hear you. Scratching … clawing … dragging against the flimsy, manmade, laughable barrier between us. It is most unnerving. I don’t even know what you are.

Or who you are.

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I know you’ve figured out that I am aware of your presence. Because you seem to vanish into thin air when I summon the courage to rush outside to catch a glimpse of you. But you’re very fast. And eerily stealthy. And I know that you’re watching me.

I know that every time I cower on my hands and knees, desperately clutching a flashlight and searching for answers, that you are staring directly into my eyes. Into my very soul. And there, cloaked in the shadows not moving or even breathing, you remain hidden just waiting for me to surrender and retreat into the house so that you may continue with your diabolical plan to drive me to madness.

For the record, I am not the only one who knows you’re here. It’s painfully obvious that the cat has known about you for weeks. Stupidly, I dismissed him and assumed we were dealing with the usual benign suspects. He tried to caution me time and again, stopping to howl at the window, at the exterior wall or (because my home is raised three feet off the ground for your convenience) at various points in the floor. He hears you.

But your main concern should not be my sharp-toothed, albeit somewhat sluggish, fifty-percent-declawed feline warrior. Rather it should be my husband. He doesn’t tire easily. And your mind games only awaken the inner obsession and insatiable thirst for justice that make up the very fiber of his identity. He will stop at nothing until he’s taken you. Dead or alive. It matters not.

See you in Hell,

The woman who lives directly above your lair

Written in response to MamaKat’s writing prompt asking about something that spooked me.

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It’s time for Ketchup With Us, hosted by Mel and me on the 1st & 15th each month. Today, we’re talking about firsts. ANY firsts. Tell us about one in your life. Or just link up an old post. You decide.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tomorrow is my son’s first day of school. He’s going to be a freshman in high school. Don’t even get me started on that one. I’ve already cried twice today and it had absolutely nothing to do with that. For the most part anyway.

With Vivien already entrenched in her school, I wanted to do something special with Dean today on his last day of summer. Something besides just prepping all of his clothes and supplies. And last night,  I finally decided what that something special would be. It’s a timely choice for his age as well as for this week. Plus it gives me the opportunity to share something with him from my youth.

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I’m not sure I’ve seen this movie since it first played in theaters. Back in the year Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Nine. (Doesn’t it feel like that should be written on parchment paper? Preceded by “in the year of our Lord.”) I can’t believe this movie is now twenty-five years old. I could tell Dean wasn’t completely sold on my selection.

“But, Mom … it’s soooo old.”

“And it looks boring.”

“Wait. It’s about school? And boys reading poetry to each other? Wow. I can’t wait.”

Okay, so he didn’t actually say any of those things. But I could read them all over his face. After all, this movie offered no planet-altering explosions. No spectacular special effects. And nobody like Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg or whoever else plays the smartass/hero in teen movies these days. It couldn’t possibly be any good.

What do I know? I’m just a mom.

But I didn’t care. I sat him down, found it on Amazon and clicked “purchase.” He’s a smart kid. I knew he’d like it if he gave it a chance. Plus, from the very beginning, there were kids smoking and cursing enough to distract him from the fact that this was an “intellectual” film. (I have absolutely no idea why I used quotes there.)

Fortunately, my gamble paid off. He had a few questions during the movie. We paused it once or twice so I could (over-) explain a thing or two. And, by the time we got to the pivotal scenes, he was fully invested. So I could cry quietly without fear of eye rolling and snickering. I assume 99% of you have seen the movie in which case you already know what I’m talking about. To the 1% who haven’t, I have no intention of spoiling it for you. Do take the time to see the movie in its entirety. Soon. And don’t watch the following clip. It made me cry today. For an entirely different reason than why it made me cry back in 1989.

Dead Poets Society. It’s a great movie to revisit. Compelling, stimulating. I’m glad I was with Dean when he saw it for the first time. He’s already asked when we can watch it again. Because he wants his sister to see it. And he wants to be there when she sees it for the first time.

Because it’s that kind of movie. I get it, Dean.

* * * * * * * * * *

Our esteemed Ketchup With Us Featured Writer from last time is …

bethere2day

* * * * * * * * * *

BEHIND THE KETCHUP

Click here to read how this foolishness all began.

KEEP TRACK OF OUR STUPIDITY

SPREAD THE WORD & POST OUR BUTTON … please!

olddognewtits.com

<img src=”https://olddognewtits.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/ketchuplabel125copy2.jpg” alt=”olddognewtits.com” width=”125″ height=”125″ />

FINALLY … THE LINK-UP!

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WE give you a picture* to inspire you to KetchupWithUs.

YOU link up something Fabulous!

And, for the love of the Annual Lay’s #DoUsAFlavor Contest, TELL YOUR FRIENDS!

* In honor of firsts, we’re reposting the first picture prompt we ever used for KetchupWithUs … back in the year of our Lord Two Thousand and Twelve. :)

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I remember being upset when Michael Jackson died. And Christopher Reeve. And John Denver, Hughes and Ritter. Each time, I was measurably sad. Each time, I remember where I was when I first heard the news. And each time, I remember having it affect me enough that it took me a moment to process that an iconic figure in my life was gone. I was moved and I was mournful but I never cried. After all, I didn’t actually know any of these people so why would I be moved to tears over their deaths?

But yesterday changed everything.

I have a CD of TV theme songs in my car. I made the mistake of popping it in this morning. Never mind the sniffing and sniveling I exhibited when I first heard the sad news yesterday. Today I found myself engulfed in a full-on sob. And it was a little confusing at first. Because I couldn’t really figure out why. Why was the death of Robin Williams affecting me so much more profoundly than any other in my memory?

And the more I thought about it … and him … the more apparent it became.

When I was a wee pup …

I remember pleading to get extensions on my bedtime so I could watch TV. We didn’t even have cable yet. So there were only three channels from which to choose my television programming. I had several favorite shows, among them was Happy Days. I never missed an episode. Even after Fonzie jumped the shark. What did I care? I was a kid. And, to a kid, jumping over a live shark is nothing short of awesome. So when the producers of Happy Days further pushed the envelope by introducing an alien to the cast, I was all in. I remember even having a bit of a crush on this lunatic with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. So I was thrilled when he spun off to his own show. And the best thing about it was that my dad was sitting next to me for every episode. After years of dissing much of the goofball comedy that I called TV, he actually liked this show. And before I knew it, he and my mom were both tuning in every week with me to watch the show.

When I was in elementary school …

I remember seeing the cinematic adaptation of Popeye at the movie theater with all of my elementary school friends. I even had the soundtrack (and I can still sing a few of its songs … if prodded).

When I was a tween-ager seeking books for school reports …

He transitioned fully to the big screen where his first big project was The World According to Garp, the first of many books-made-into-movies by John Irving (who would, because of this film, become my favorite author).

When I was a teenager …

He released Moscow on the Hudson, Good Morning, Vietnam, Dead Poets Society and Cadillac Man, all of which I can remember seeing at the theater with friends or on dates with faceless people from my past.

When I met my husband …

I learned he wasn’t a big fan of Mr. Williams. To that point, most of what Dave had been exposed to was merely the actor’s manic, goofball, often-medicinally-fueled, hyperactive, 100mph material. And it just wasn’t his cup of tea. But the actor pulled a fast one on Dave when he released Awakenings and The Fisher King. And Dave was duly impressed. And now paying full attention. Whenever it involved a dramatic role. I get that. Over the years, there were several movies where Mr. Williams played characters who were able to smile or even laugh through their own tears. It was all so real and so humbling that I couldn’t help but cry (and sometimes laugh) right along with him. It was in these roles that he was the most amazing. And most human.

When I was a young adult …

He won his first Oscar. For a little movie called Good Will Hunting. No offense to Matt Damon (who I would later come to love) but Mr. Williams stole the show. And I guess the Academy thought so, too. I believe this scene is my brother’s favorite movie clip of all time.

When I became a mother …

I discovered a whole new collection of titles in his gargantuan body of work. Because he was a dad … and always a bit of a kid himself … he still found plenty of time to be silly. And he was often given carte blanche by his directors to improvise and “be himself” when the cameras were rolling. Thus was born projects like Aladdin, Jumanji, Flubber, Hook and Mrs. Doubtfire. All of these movies came out before my kids were even born and yet they love and have seen them repeatedly in their lifetimes.

What Dreams May Come, Patch Adams, One Hour Photo, Night at the Museum … I could go on and on and on. But I’m guessing I don’t have to. Because judging from all the news feeds of my all too many social media forums, you guys already know what I’m talking about. And clearly you’re feeling it, too.

Farewell, Mr. Williams.

You’ve been making me laugh and cry for as long as I can remember. Like me, the world is reluctant to let you go and will not soon forget you. Thanks for making your life extraordinary. And for seizing the day again and again.

I only wish you had more of them.

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1. Sleeping late.

No, that’s not me. Please. I know better than to sleep with a smoky eye.

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2. Summer drinks.

Especially when they have cucumber in them. I like to pretend I’m being healthy.

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3. Movies.

From Blended and The Nut Job to National Treasure and Walter MittyI honestly think I set a personal best for numbers of movies seen inside of ten weeks this year. (That’s a whole lot of sedentary.  I’m going to make a kick-ass old lady.)

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4. Summer feet.

No, these aren’t my … you know what? Screw it. These ARE my feet. I am a professional foot model. And this is a small sampling of my portfolio.

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5. All Shook Up

Elvis music set against a Shakespearian plot line housed in a Methodist church. It’s a wild formula that made for a great couple of months with my girl.

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6. Family vacations.

Sure, there are always a few moments when we want to kill each other. But the memories we make and the food we eat always outweigh the death threats.

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Created in response to MamaKat’s weekly writing prompt.

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Sometimes I regret going public with my blog. There are so many anonymous writers out there. I’m very jealous of these people.

  • They can write whatever they want about themselves … with no fear of being ambushed by a group of well-meaning do-gooders and dragged off to the nearest mental institution.
  • They can write whatever they want about their kids … with no fear that it will get one of them wedgied, pantsed or bullied-using-their-own-clothing-against-them-in-some-other-way on the schoolyard.
  • They can write whatever they want about the people in their lives … with no fear of cold shoulders, stares, glares, resentment, hate mail or flaming bags of poop left on their doorsteps.

They can just … write. Without judgment or concern of any kind. I think that’s pretty cool. And extremely cathartic.

In MY world, every word and every picture in every post I write is given careful consideration before I hit publish. “Would that description piss her off?,” “Is there any chance I’m going to get that guy fired if I let this go public?” and most of all “Are people going to think I’m nuts if I admit the full truth here?”

Probably. To all of it. So I edit … and I abridge … and I massage … until, in the end, I am still left with the truth, but it’s a polished truth. It’s the one I’m prepared for you to see when you look at me. Think of it as Picture Day at school. The end result really is a picture of your child, but his hair is actually clean. And brushed. And he’s wearing the one shirt that doesn’t have a big stain on the collar. Plus you paid extra for the photographer to airbrush out the scab on his chin.

Why am I blathering on like this?

Well, for starters, it’s what I do best. I figure if I talk long enough, I’m eventually bound to say something brilliant, meaningful or at least that you’re willing to listen to until I pause to take a breath. Secondly, I guess it’s just because I’m a little blue. Because my girl started back to school today. It’s her last first day at the little elementary school we settled into after Hurricane Katrina. My son’s already moved on to a new school. She’ll be starting a new one for 8th grade next year. (Remember, New Orleans high schools are weird.)

And … because I’m me … my mind can’t help but wander to a few years down the road when they’ll both be gone for college. I know, I know. It’s still years away. But wow. I don’t know how anybody does it. Maybe I’ll figure that out in the future. But I doubt it.

Until then, I’m just going to pretend I’m not really thinking about it when we’re talking about something else completely unrelated so you don’t think I’m too crazy, alright? Even though a portion of my consciousness will secretly be consumed with it every day until it happens. Then, when I smile and say, “Pleeeeease. I’m fine. Let’s go grab some lunch,” you just pretend to believe me.

Deal?

Because since I’m standing in the middle of the room wearing a big, stupid name tag that says “Michele Robert Poche,” that’s about as much as I’m willing to let loose right now.

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Have a great first day of school, Viv. I’ve enjoyed every single one of themNow … um … let’s go grab some lunch.

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et cetera
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