Marthanator Takes Round One

Did you all catch her yesterday?

She had Jamie Oliver, the Naked Chef Guy on and let me tell ya, Sista Martha can schtick it to ya.

HEEHEE

See, they're making fresh pasta and a meat sauce to go on top.

snicker, snicker

then Jamie says to Martha

"Can you hand me my sausage Martha" (cut to audience snickering like 12 year olds).

Jamie turns red like a beet. Martha doesn't miss a beat. Hands him "the meat"

(forget PDiddy, I'm your girl Martha)

HEH

Moving on, they're finishing off the sauce and he asks Martha to cut him a nobbin of butter.

Martha asks how much a nobbin is.

Jamie indicates about 2 inches with his fingers

and then...................the Marthanator roars back with a killer right hook

"Oh I see........ about as big as your sausage"

DINGDINGDING............Round One is over and the clear winner with a knockout blow is

the MARTHANATOR!

Swing it Sistah!!!

RayRay vs The MarthaNator

I am conflicted. I am on the horns of a dilemma. My loyalies are torn.

Family, job, friends, a deep questioning of faith.... you ask?????

No.

I am so superficial....it's all about the 6 to 7 PM timeslot.

In this corner, RayRay...the SUPASTAH of 30 Minute Meals (bowing to Wendy for that infinitely quotable tag line) Cute, perky, fabulous ideas, yummy food, makes me feel all warm and giggly inside.

Or

The contender. Martha. A trademark in and of herself. Impeccable, pitch perfect instructions, cold, a weeetle bit scary, trying to revmp her "image".

Side note. I have a soft spot for Martha.

Her book "Weddings" came out the year I was married. My MIL had a gourmet cooking store back in 87. I had a very "Martha" wedding. Basketweave cake, fresh flowers, twinkle fairy lights, big white tent on the lawn of the church, under a 200 year old oak tree. People still talk about it almost 20 years later.

So who (whom, who??where's my mother when I need her?) do I love?

I REALLY need TIVO (or just get off my sorry, lazy tush and program the VCR)

Naaaaaaaaaaaaagggggghhhh...rather blog and angst about it.

TAG!!!!

Got tagged by Wendy...who is not a bugger face, but does make me laugh my butt off

10 years ago I was:
Purchasing our first house, the one we live in now
Learning to art stamp
Travelling to St. John's
Thinking about starting a family
really close with great group of friends from Sunday School

5 years ago I was:
Trying to stay connected to best friends from Sunday School who had scattered to the winds.
Travelling to San Francisco.
Running around like a loony taking care of a 4 and 2 year old boys
Telecommuting from home
Mourning the loss of my grandmother
Scrapping the non CM way....yay me!

1 year ago I was:
Busting my ass at a now defunct site
Still telecommuting
Bonding with a bunch of new friends in the neighborhood
Finding a whole new set of good friends through defunct scrappin site
Totally stressed that DH still wasn't making money in the start up company

Yesterday I:
Talked to Co on the phone for 40 minutes
IM'd Wen for 30 minutes until she kicked me off and told me to go to bed
Took oldest DS to a birthday party
Finished a layout.
Argued with DH (we kissed and made up)

5 snacks I enjoy:
Tortilla chips and guacomole
Pringles
Pistachios
REALLY good cheese
Good chewy bread with a little olive oil and parm for dipping

5 songs I know all the words to:
Jack and Diane - John Mellenchamp
Breathless - The Corr's
Fire & Rain - James Taylor
Hotel California - the Eagles
Amazing Grace

5 things I would do with 100 million dollars:
Move my family and Wen and her family to OR to be near Co
Attend the Culinary Institue in San Fran
Design a planned community where all my friends could live
Never work again
Find a cure for cancer


5 places I would run away to:
Eugene
Mesa
Rome
St. John's
San Fran

5 Things I will NEVER wear:
Tube tops
Thongs
Platform shoes
A bikini
see through anything

5 favorite TV shows:
Lost
Alias
Desperate Housewives
Rachel Ray 30 minute meals (throws hands up in air and says SUPASTAH)
Design on a Dime

5 bad habits:
Picking my nails
Forgetfulness
Procrastination
Impatience
Eating ice cream out of the container

5 biggest joys:
my boys
my faith
my friends
my art
my DH (saved the best for last sweetie!)


5 people I tag to do this: (have fun girlies!)

Christi http://scrapsome.blogspot.com/

Rhonda http://rhondahg.blogspot.com/

Dina http://dinastamps.typepad.com/

Heather http://edifyandsharpen.blogspot.com/

Lea http://ltllea23.typepad.com/scrapping_lifes_moments/

Bounce

Bounce

Did you all ever see the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow and Ben Affleck, about the guy who gives up his seat on an airplane to a family man trying to get home, ends up dying in a plane crash. Then the guy who gave up the seat ends up with Paltrow?

Stay with me here.

I know it's a really weird, but I saw Christi's post today about Joel being a rebound realtionship and only 6% work out and telling Wendy, you never know what's around the corner and I think

Bounce

Cause, Michael and I.....we're an 18 year rebound.

We're the 6%.

Bounce.

I met Michael at my apartment complex the week after I had ended a two year, intense relationship with a young Jewish lawyer.

My heart was broken. I called my aunt who lived only minutes away and spent the night sobbing with dry heaves on my sofa while she held me.

The reference to his religion is relevant. The split was mutual. Basically it boiled down to the fact that neither of us was willing to compromise our heritage or our beliefs.

For whatever reason, in our mid 20's, we could not figure out how to reconcile the two. We knew there would always be external forces chipping away at our union.

So we loved each other enough to let each other go.

Fast forward, one week later. I meet Michael.

Bounce

I meet the man with whom I have spent the past 18 years, loving, fighting, bearing two kids, fighting and loving some more.

It's far from perfect, but it's a hell of a lot better than perfection.

So my prayer for you Wendy and Christi is just one word

Bounce

Of Ice Princesses and Rejections

Lea has challeneged us today to write about rejection and how we deal with it, how we grow from it, what we learn.

Okay.

Tall order. Very scary. Almost like picking at a healed wound. But into the fray I go.

I was a competitive figure skater from the age of 10 to 18. I trained during the summers in Denver at the arena where Carlo Fassi was holding court. He was not my coach. He WAS the coach of Peggy Fleming, and was training Dorothy Hamill, Scott Hamilton (nicest guy in the skating world), Paul Wiley (snot nosed brat at 10) when I was training there.

I give you that background, because it really sets the stage for how intensely competitive and ripe with backstabbing that sport was and is, I imagine, still today.

So let's throw little ole me at 12 into that fray and see what happens shall we?

Rejection happened on a daily basis.

REJECTION because I was not a year round skater at that rink. REJECTION because my coach wasn't "The Man". REJECTION because I was tall for a skater and really skinny and I could eat whatever I wanted and the other girls HATED that.

This was just the daily rejection.

Then there was the stress of taking proficiency tests and all the work and money that went into it and what happened if I failed. My parents, to their everlasting credit, never, NOT ONCE, played the "stage parent" role. When I failed and I most certainly did fail, they waited for me in the warming room, with a hug, an Almond Joy candy bar and my pick for dinner.

Moving on to competition. The PENULTIMATE opportunity for rejection. Cause when you failed, you failed SPECTACULARILY with an audience and 10 judges and all your peers WATCHING your failure.

So at this point you are asking yourself, why would ANYONE want to endure that kind of pressure.

Because, I loved skating. Simple as that.

I loved the feeling of the ice flowing under my blades, the wind whistling around me as I gained momentum for a jump, the lift off, soaring above the boards. I felt like a bird taking flight.

It was magical and artistic and it made me feel beautiful and graceful and strong and FREE!

So I learned in the end................. to skate for me and me alone.

My happiness didn't come from trophies at competition or medals from tests, although I did earn some along the way.

I put aside the rejection, laced up my skates and FLEW!

Strike a Pose

I vant to be alone...not!

Holy CR*P I did it!!!!

OMG....I just figured out how to add more sidebars to my blog, with no direction what so ever but what I could piece together from different "help" categories!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(yes the dang exclamation points are totally warranted)

HOLY CR*P....I've made one of those quantum leaps in life, no longer a computer geek Wannabe...I think I have crossed the threshold to Computer Geek Cadet First Class.

Woohooo...time to go drink a glass of wine!

Childhood Defined

It is so hard to pick, but there is one that really stands our for me involving my Dad.

Let me first say that I always knew my Dad loved me, but we were constantly at odds with each other. We were too much alike...kind of like trying to get two positive ends of two magnets to connect...instead we kept pushing away....kwim?

But then a magnet flipped.

I was enrolled in a sailing camp during the summer after 2nd grade. My Dad was an old salt of the first order, an expert captain, winner of much hardware and he had bought my brother and me a little one sail dingy which we promptly named "Little Miss Leading". Dad's boat being of course, "Miss Leading".

He wanted us to feel as comfortable piloting our own boat as he did, hence the reason for camp.

We spent all summer learning to rig, tack, come about, plot a course, read the winds and currents, right a capsized boat, etc and it all culminated in a regatta for the students.

My brother was of course all gung ho, but I DID NOT want to sail in a race.

I was petrified.

The week before I had turned turtle in my boat, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the term, it means exactly as it sounds, the boat flipped completely over, shell up, with me underneath.

Obviously I managed to swim out from underneath, but I'll never forget the complete and utter panic. In the dark, ropes snaking around me, canvas slapping aginst my legs.

You get the picture.

Fast forward to race day. I cried the whole way to the regatta. I wanted to throw up. I WAS NOT under any circumstances going to get in that boat. My Dad was a sailor, a great one. I was NOT!

Even my mother, who normally could calm all my fears, was at a loss as to how to handle the situation.

Of course, now as a parent, I know they were trying to make me "get back up on the horse" so to speak.

We get to the lake and my Dad took me aside, squatted down next to me, took my shoulders, looked me right in the eyes and and said to me (as best as I can recollect)

"Lisa I know you are afraid. Afraid of capsizing, afraid of losing (perceptive man.... that one). But I don't care if you lose. And if you capsize I will be the first one to get to you. It's going to be okay, you just have to try. Just get in the boat and go to the first buoy and if you don't feel like you can do any more, come back to me at the dock. That's all you have to do. But I believe in you."

There it was, that last sentence.

I don't know if he had ever said that before. Probably, but that is the first time I remember him saying it.

So I climbed in the boat, pushed off from the dock and......................

won the regatta.

Funny thing, believing in someone.

It changes everything.

I have a pix of me in my little bikini, life jacket and tiller over my shoulder from that race. When I figure out how to upload it, I'll post it. Cause the smile on my face about says it all, not an ear splitting grin, but a shy, shocked smile.

Thanks Dad

Where to begin

Alrighty then...let's see if I can get the hang of this BLOG thang!

Tried it on typepad and I was/am too time, computer (insert your own random observation here) challenged to get it set up properly.

So let's see how this looks!

Okay, not bad for a first try....must tinker, must play, must figure out how to upload pixs.

Not really digging the pink scheme, but it's a start.

More to come!