Men are from Tuscon, Women are from Jersey.

I'm not really sure how men work.

In fact, men seemed to have really raked in the dough over the years publishing everything from books to videos to movies to cartoon strips about how hard women are to figure out. They're no piece of cake, themselves!

That's why the book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus makes reference to the fact that men are from Mars. If men were relatively easy to figure out and completely simple to understand then the book would be called Men are from Idaho, Women are from Venus. Doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?

This weekend was "spring cleaning" weekend. Or at least it was to me. I bet if you had asked the Attorney General on Friday morning, "Hey, Attorney General, what do you think your weekend will be termed?" He would have said, "I think it will be called college-basketball-and- driving-range-weekend." And we would have laughed and laughed. He would have been laughing at how fun his weekend sounded and how it would look cute on a bumper sticker and I would have been laughing at how simple-minded he looked when he was optimistic.

I once heard that anger is what comes when you have unmet expectations. If that definition is true then it would reason that if he spent all weekend driving golf balls into the abyss I was going to be....you guessed it....angry. So I had to come up with a plan, and fast. I needed the man to work this weekend. And not just because it was a wonderful weekend to do all the spring weeding and trimming and mowing and mulching. But also because I had to do all the inside stuff and I'll be darned if I was going to do it while he screamed at Kansas and UConn.

So here are six easy steps to get your man (husband, boyfriend, fiance, any other type of man and your on your own) to do what you need them to do:

1. Make sure that on the Friday before they are met with some unexpected surprises. I started by taking him to lunch on Friday. (And even though my Granny and my mom showed up at the exact same restaurant at the exact same time and even though they waved at us and had the waiter seat them at our table, I was not undeterred. It just meant I had to come up with extra bonuses later in the day.)

2. At some point in the course of the meal he will ask you about money. Its inevitable. Whatever the question is act as if the last thing on earth you want to do is spend more money. "No, I don't want to go shoe shopping. Who has time for that right now?" "Please don't take my car in to be fixed, I'm sick of spilling money into that thing." "Yes, I'm running a fever, but you're crazy if you think I'm giving more money to the medical industry."

3. Arrange a sitter for Friday night and let him pick the movie. Yes, Jane Eyre is playing but tonight he gets to choose. Besides, its only 2 hours of your life. Surely you can watch a bunch of cars explode and a bunch of people die for 2 hours of your life. Surely.

4. If I have to explain number what to do for him at the number four mark then you need to stop reading this altogether and take a long look in the mirror. And be ashamed.

5. Friday night, as your just about to roll over, kiss him goodnight and rather quickly say, "Thank you for being willing to help me get all of the things done around the house tomorrow that we need to get done. Night." He won't know what your talking about but he will momentarily be proud of himself for being so willing.

6. Here is our sixth and final step. Saturday morning when you start to lay out the days plans, "I'm going to start cleaning out closets in here while you start weeding that flower bed right there..." be prepared for some opposition. And when it comes at you, and it will, you can make it all go away with this one little sentence: "That's fine, if you don't want to do it, I get it! But just keep the kids out of my way while I work, okay? Keep them with you."

I worked steps 1 through 5 like a pro this weekend. But I won't lie, step 6 got me fresh mulch, weeds trimmed, new flowerbeds AND a barbecue dinner.

I don't know why men say they can't figure us out.

What A Sweet Heart.

If you don't hear from me over the next couple days never fear. I've just taken a few days to go and bask in the glory that is Spring Break with a little get-a-way vacation with the AG and our kiddos. Now, if you don't hear from me on Monday then go ahead and set your TiVo's to record Dateline because it will no doubt be a story on how a mother from a small town in East Texas was found hanging upside down on a roller coaster at Six Flags with a sign around her neck that reads, "Trust me, this is better than going back to a hotel room with them!"

Hey, it could happen.

~~~

So last week my Granny had a small heart-attack. Now, now, before you start going on over her let me assure you she has been well taken care of. She has been cooked for and cared for and cleaned for and has had someone do her hair and her laundry and her grocery shopping. She's been treated like a Queen, I assure you. And it's not because we're scared of her.

Uh, huh. No way. Nope. Not us.

She's not scary. Not at all.

But despite the discomfort of a heart-attack, despite the pain of having a stint put in, and despite the stress it can put a person under, my Granny just keeps knocking 'em outta the park! Here are a couple of things you might have heard my Granny say had you been standing within 50 feet of her (because the woman cannot whisper.)


"Did you hear that I became friends with one of the nurses? Your Aunt Melba didn't like it one bit. She said I take up with all sorts of stragglers, but what I wanted to tell her was 'SO DO YOU!' She takes up with people just because they're funny - but really they make NO SENSE! And she got mad at me for being nice to this nurse but I really liked her even though her son has long hair like a girl. She works hard and is saving her money for a cow."



"Annette, who is that Doctor? I think he's a foreigner!"



"Meridith, what is that smell in here?"
"That would be you, Granny."
"Well, spray something."
"Well, you're surrounded by oxygen so I don't know if I...."
"Fine, I'll tell Annette to bring a candle and burn it."
"I'm pretty sure that could be fatal."
"Sit down and hush."
(Annette brought a candle. They burnt it until the Hospital Administrator asked them to blow it out considering the oxygen tanks sitting around the room.)



"When they were putting that stint in me I looked around the room and though, 'Good grief, everyone here is so fat.' "
(This is coming from a woman who has never once shopped in the petite sizes.)



And my personal favorite...

(My Granny was assigned a male nurse her first day in the E.R. He was Asian. Bless his heart.)
"You know I haven't stepped foot in this hospital in two years!"
"Is that right, Miss Willmon?"
"Nope. The last time I was here y'all killed my husband!"
"Ohhh...uhhh.."
"You did! You killed him! Gave him all that terrible medicine from CHINA!"



Yep, she's doing juuuuuuuust fine.

Well, That Was Odd. (Bachelor Recap)

For some of you, you'll be happy to know The Bachelor is over. Therefore Tuesdays on this blog can go back to fancy titles like, "Someone Give Me A Chicken Recipe - STAT!" or "You Pulled What? Out of Where?" I know you're on the edge of your seat, aren't you?

But until then, humor me once more, won't you? For you see....I'm kinda dying inside.

For the past ten weeks or so I have gotten together with eight other women. We've popped popcorn, we've added M&M's to it, we've discussed our children, our weight and how our children effect our weight. But more than all of that - we have intently watched as Brad fell in love with Emily. And because our lives don't have a whole heck of a lot going on in them right at this moment, we invested something in to this show.

Call us silly.
Call us romantics.
Call us idiots.
We don't care!

So needless to say we were just a teensy bit excited about tonight's Finale episode.

So excited, in fact, that we decided to start our evening off with some Italian food.
And so excited, in fact, that we decided to wear matching shirts that we made just for this occasion.

And now that I look back at those last two sentences I can see where only the Italian food sounds like a good idea to most of you. Yes, I can see that. But I cannot tell a lie : I loved that shirt!

Oh, the excitement of seeing Brad choose Emily. We screamed and screamed and screamed some more! But then our hopes seemed a little dashed when The Bachelor: After The Final Rose came on. (Stupid ABC execs, don't they know we don't want to see what happens after the rose? We only want to see the champagne and flights of fancy up to that point?) But to then see Brad and Emily come out and look so.............real. It kinda stunk. I wanted them to look deliriously happy. I wanted them to look intoxicated. I wanted them to look like a couple just starting out is supposed to look.

But instead they kinda looked a little too real. A little scared. A little thrown in to the fray. A little dazed and confused.

And I don't watch reality television for the reality. Sheesh.

So there, just below this blog is a comment box. Leave your comments. Tell me how ridiculous shows like this are. Tell me how the couples never make it and they are a lower class of people to have to even go on reality television. Tell me how the women make fools of themselves and lower the standard by which other women are measured. Tell me how foolish Brad is and how he will never allow himself to be happy.

Go ahead. But just know...I've heard it all. And none of it has mattered. I love the show. Its my guilty pleasure, just like reading US magazine in a steamy bubble bath. Dropping a little bit of ice cream into my vat of chocolate syrup. Ordering room service when I'm not even hungry. Or having my hair colored when I'm clearly not THAT blond.

That's what guilty pleasures are: something one enjoys without feeling guilt for it.

Today I woke up to the real world. My daughter in between us in bed because she threw up all over hers. A husband with a nagging cough. A son who wants chocolate milk when I clearly forgot to buy milk. And forty errands I have to run all before noon. I also have a $20 in my pocket that I have to make last for a week.

Now that's the real world.

And if Brad and Emily can make it in that, then more power to 'em! Who's to say they can't? Who's to say they can? Certainly not me. I wouldn't want that job anyway. I just simply want to get together with friends, drown my priorities in some Alfredo sauce and sit back and gab.

Yep, I'm guilty. Who cares!

P.S. To our other 3 compadres, you were sorely missed. (They are school teachers. And apparently at Spring Break school teachers like to run for the border. Who knew!)

Spring Broke.

It's Spring Break. The time when the sun stays out longer, becomes bolder and moves in as if to say, "Come. Bask in me. Allow me to move you from melancholy to pleasantly perky. Put on your shorts. Let's frolic."

Spring Break problem #1: I don't wear shorts.

I always look at this week like this, "What can we do? What can we do? We got nothin' planned...what can we do?" Then I do a lot of crying and whining and begging the AG to give me some money, give me some money, give me some money. And he does. And I blow it all the first afternoon at Target and Chik-fil-a.

Spring Break problem #2: I need more money in order to entertain these children.

We actually do have a couple of things planned that we are holding in our back pocket like a Full-House for fear that springing it on the kids too early will result in our favorite series of questions, "is it tomorrow yet?" Followed by the ever popular, "So I'm going to bed tonight and then what happens?" And the one that never gets old, "But you said we were gooooiiinnnngggg..." Ugh. So later in the week we will be taking the kids to Houston for a couple of days where we will (in my mind) pack picnic lunches and spend afternoons frolicking in Herman park and riding the train. But will, in reality, carry a spanking spoon into public restroom where we will not "spare the rod or spoil the child" while their daddy orders 2 Coke's to make up for the ones that are lying on the floor of his car and orders mommy a large fry and a shake...just because.

Spring Break problem #3: I once read where anger comes from unfulfilled expectations. It is highly probable that this will be one very angry Spring Break.

In truth, I like Spring Break. There's a lot of needed laying around the house. Eating lunch with the windows and the door wide open. There is a lot of grilling when daddy gets home and walking down to the pond to feed the fish. Sure there are lots of brother/sister wrestling matches. (But look at the glass as half full, people, that is some free entertainment you might not otherwise get!) There's also time for momma to hold babies while they watch their favorite cartoons and there's always a reason to spread out a blanket in the pasture and pack our favorite lunch of Cheez-Its, M&M's and applesauce.

So this Spring Break don't worry so much about entertaining your little ones. Instead of going out of town - read them a book. If it's too cold to swim - pack a picnic lunch instead. And if you know me AT ALL then you know what I really meant to say in those last few sentences was, "If your husband hands you a $20 scream 'THE LAST ONE TO CHIK-FIL-A HAS TO WASH THEIR HANDS!' and get the heck outta Dodge!!

~~~

What are your big Spring Break plans? Oh, and I only want to hear them if they are sad and depressing. If they, in any way, involve white sand or a child-free vacation then I ask that you please post your comment on someone else's blog. Don't take it personally. Thank you.

Unfortunatly, The Women Tell Nothing (Bachelor Recap)

Enough!

Enough with all this procrastination! What is my problem? Why don't I want to write my Bachelor Recap from last night?? Why? Why?????

Oh yeah...because it makes women look like idiots. Now I remember.

So last night was The Women Tell All. It would have been more aptly titled had it been...
"The Women Put On the 8th Grade Production of: Dumb as Dirt."

Oh sure, I suppose I enjoyed hearing from The Dentist, about how she never could show her true feelings to Brad and then she went home and cut her bangs, yada yada yada. But I couldn't help feeling the rest of it was just sillyness.

So some girl with a face like a Rubix cube was mad at another girl who waxes men for a living.

Who cares!

So some girl who tends bar thinks her mom raised her better than 30th Birthday is raising her daughter.

Who cares!

So 30th Birthday really doesn't want apes to attack My Daddy Owns A Car Lot.

Who cares! (Well, My Daddy Owns A Car Lot probably cares, but other than her, no one!)

So I will be honest and say that I never really care a hoot about that particular episode every season, but my girlfriends still wanted to get together and watch it and who am I to say "no" to Oreo's and cheese dip? I'm not that strong.

So stay tuned for next week when Brad makes his final choice. If you step outside your door at just the right moment chances are you will hear us screaming. IF he chooses Emily.

Our plan is to meet at Olive Garden at 6pm wearing our TEAM EMILY shirts. Our only two rules:
1. Don't bother coming if you aren't wearing your t-shirt.
2. Don't bother coming if you don't eat your weight in breadsticks.

We will then file back to my house, gather around the television like its the moment those two old guys walked on the moon, and sit motionless waiting for his final decision.

Then, the next morning we will wake up and pretend to move on with our lives as if The Bachelor never even happened.

See? We don't take this stuff too seriously.

Not like those girls last night. Oh, the drama. Sooooooooooooooo NOT my thing.

Cough. Cough.

The President's Speech

"Melissa, this is your mother. I want you to take Granny and I to the show to see the movie about the King. So call and find out when its playing and I'll buy your popcorn. And also, I need you to come fix my hair."

I'm not sure if the woman is talking about The King's Speech or The Passion of the Christ, its been that long since she's been to the movies. But I'll assume its The King's Speech until I hear differently. Now I just have to figure out if its the one with Colin Firth or Mike Tyson.

Decisions, decisions.

Fantasy Shmantasy. (My late, but imminently awaited Bachelor Recap)

There is so much I want to say about The Bachelor. But first I have to say this....

* Spoiler alert. Stop reading now if you don't want to know what my cousin Meridith told me that her best friend April told her that she heard Kid Kraddick say on the radio that someone told him. Because trust me, its probably 4% reliable. *

Emily's house is up for sale in Charlotte, NC and Reality Steve (the moron!) has changed his prediction! Can you believe it??

So everyone...
My house!
Two weeks from now!
Wear your Team Emily shirt!
Bring cheese dip!

Okay, enough of that right now...back to Monday nights episode.

So The Dentist went home. Anyone surprised by this?

Anyone surprised that a man who runs a business in Austin and is approaching the age of 38 didn't choose the 26 year old dentist-to-be from Pittsburgh who when asked where she would like to live mentioned fifteen cities without ever uttering the word "Austin."

Yeah, me neither.

Of course I do have some questions about this last episode. Here they are, in no special order:

When you go on The Bachelor that has to mean you've watched it before, right? In fact, you've probably watched it 2 or 3 times. Otherwise you're probably a little miffed that no one has been fired yet or no one has had you spin that giant wheel and win a Pontiac. So why then do they still seemed surprised when he hands them a card with a hotel room key inside of it. Why? When will there be a season with a woman who, for once, is handed the card and before she even reads it says, "Look babe, I know what this is. So let's get the check, call a cab, get that thing out from between your teeth and get the heck outta Dodge." When?

When it is down to the final three women and he has to take each of them to a "fantasy suite" how does he choose which one gets the tree house? Is it the one who in her bio wrote, "I love the outdoors. I have a tree in my backyard. I love to be naked." Is that how they narrow that down?

If a tree falls in the forest do you hear it? And when you spend the night in a tree house how do you flush?

When you are a cameraman and you hear The Bachelor say that he is ready for a family and a 5 year old. That he would consider it an honor to help raise that child and that he would always be a protector for her. And then he tells that child's mother that he is falling in love with her, do you just look at the other cameramen and say, "Let's just call it a day, shall we? I think we have a winner."

When a man tells you to "Wait right here for one minute..." while you are standing in the middle of the South African jungle do you really stand that still and quiet? Because once the AG told me to wait for him by the car while he ran back in for the keys and I screamed four times at the mosquitoes and I pounded the car in anger till he got back.

So when you are on a date with a woman and you are telling her your feelings and all she is doing is cutting up her meat like she's recently been on a 40 day fast, and when you are telling her how much she means to you and her reply is "mmmm...this is really delicious" you can bet on one of two things:
1. She's just not that into you or
2. You are on a date with me.

Until next week when The Women Tell All!