Yeah, Size DOES Matter...

The following a text conversation that I had a couple of days ago with my friend Ann. I had emailed her a link to a supplement called 7-Keto. It’s good for your immune function, weight loss, etc.

Ann- What is that 7 Keto stuff and r u calling me fat?

Me- No dummy. I started taking it because it is good for immune function and anti aging. It can just also cause weight loss.

Ann- Cool fatso.

Me- I’m taking it so I can keep lying about my age since it’s for anti aging.

Ann- Where did you get it old hag?

Me- Health food store.

Ann- I am going to get some so I am a skinny 23 year old.

Me- You can always try. I think at this point I’d settle for DOING a 23 year old.

Ann- U lie like a rug. An old rug.

Ann- So what’s that stuff called again?

Me- 7 keto.

Me- It has given me more energy. You know, for that 23 year old…

Ann- Right

Me- I know. The 23 year olds are practically lining up. Wait. That didn’t sound right..

Ann- I want to see that.

Me- Perv



The last time I wrote about texting I was talking about how some of my texts look like they are from someone crazy or at the very least, illiterate. That’s because I should always have my glasses on when attempting to use a phone. Which brings me to my current complaint. Why is it that cell phone are getting so tiny?

Mine came with a little stylus, which is just about the right size for a very small person. And by small what I really mean is a dwarf. Or a midget. I get confused about which ones have the proportionate extremities. Although I think that we are supposed to call all of them little people now. Which brings me back to very small people again and that is a little ambiguous if you ask me.

I don’t have an unusually small cell phone and I do have fairly small hands for someone of a normal stature. My friend Dave, on the other hand, (pardon the pun) has hands the size of a baseball mitt and fingers that mostly resemble bratwurst. I would think that he could accidentally be calling Finland on occasion.

Other than the size of the tiny little keyboard I also object to the tiny little screen, with it’s tiny little fonts. I have been wondering if it is possible to enlarge the font so I can read it more easily. Then I realized that is exactly why they make those Jitterbug phones for old people. According to the web site:

The powerful speaker has a familiar dial tone just like your phone at home

Notice that 'powerful speaker' is code for this phone is not only great if you have trouble seeing but it'll work if you're deaf, too!

I had to look it up to find a picture to post here and had some trouble finding it initially. Because I thought it was called a June bug. Then I realized that no one would want to buy something that buzzed and was called a June bug. At least I wouldn’t.

Anyway the Jitterbug has great big toddler-friendly (or old people-friendly) buttons and a large display. The only real problem that I can see is having to lug around a phone the size of a shoebox.

Crazy Neighbors and I Mean REALLY Crazy

Last night I was entertaining Andrea with stories about the neighborhood EH (ex-husband) and I used to live in.

Back when we were both graduate students, we rented a house that was pretty nice and in a fairly decent neighborhood. One block further east it got a little dicey. Then another block east after that one and it was getting into really scary stuff.

But back to our block in our not-so-scary neighborhood. It was a large Spanish-style house with the tile roof. The house to our left was brick and so large that it was pretty close to being considered a mansion. That was where Crazy Freddy lived. Of course we didn’t know that he was crazy until he came over for a visit.

I remember one evening standing in the back yard pruning the roses growing on the fence. The fence was close to Freddy’s driveway and he came over to introduce himself. He was probably in his fifties at the time but since I was so young it seemed like he was pretty old. He seemed all right at first but it wasn’t long before he was telling me about his upcoming trip on the Concord. It was still flying back then so I was buying the story because clearly the guy had some money. Then he mentioned that the purpose of his trip was to go to London and meet the queen. I decided to quit my pruning early because I could not wait to get in the house and tell EH. I had already made a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder but really, going to meet the queen? I still can’t believe that I didn’t laugh.

Freddy kept to himself for the most part and we didn’t see much of him. Then one day after getting out of the shower EH mentioned seeing Freddy

EH- “Well, you missed it.”

Me- “Missed what?”

EH- “Freddy just walked across the street, picked up seed pods and threw them up in the air.”

Me- “What’s so interesting about that?”

EH- “Well, he was completely naked at the time. Then the ambulance came to get him.”

I was sorry to have missed that.

Freddy was gone for a while but eventually returned. A few months later, as expected, Freddy went nuts again. He went crazy in the house he shared with his mother, breaking things, etc. He ended up in our driveway at some point and was arrested, naked again. I missed the whole thing but the nanny filled me in when I got home. Veronique was French and when she got excited she would speak rapidly in a mixture of French and English. She was pretty excited that day and all I caught at first was ‘Freddy’ and ‘naked’. I had to ask her to slow down and repeat things before I had any clue what she was saying. Then she said something about fish since Freddy’s son came over and gave her the fish that were rescued from their shattered tank. We had no choice but to take in the now homeless fish. Freddy was arrested because he had tried to strangle his mother that he shared the house with. I didn’t even know that she had lived there. I don’t remember seeing Freddy after that. Maybe ho went to see the queen after all.

The neighbor on the other side, Susan, lived in a big two-story house and seemed normal. She was in her thirties and a flight attendant for Southwest Airlines. She seemed nice and we would chat when I was out watering the tomatoes. Then as the season changed from summer to fall, I noticed that there was something a little unusual about Susan.

I remember being in the back sun porch room facing her house one night and seeing her walking around topless with all of her lights on and blinds open. I called EH, saying, “You’re not going to believe this. We’ve got another naked neighbor.” She was rather buxom and evidently proud of her hooters.

The nudity continued on a fairly regular basis and I continued alerting EH when she was naked. It wasn’t much later that her teenaged nephew and his girlfriend moved in with Susan. She stopped walking around naked and her nephew’s girlfriend started babysitting for the boys on occasion. She was a nice girl and started sharing information on just how nutty Susan was. There was a lot of drinking and crying. One of the other things she shared is that Susan talked about EH and how she thought he was hot. I had no clue that she was putting on a show intended for him. The ironic things is that the only reason he even saw anything is because I would yell for him to come look, just thinking it was funny.

Before we moved out of that house there was a man carjacked and killed just one block over. We also got a new mailman because ours went nuts and hit his mother over the head with a VCR, killing her. Shortly thereafter, the landlord put up our house for sale and we were forced to move. This time is was to an even better house in a better neighborhood with a couple more crazy neighbors. Part two next time. Or maybe I should call it Colleen and that old goat Walter.

Tornado Season and the Naked baby

Katie- “Mommy, I know what comes after July.”

Me, fully anticipating her saying August- “What?”

Katie- “Halloween!”



The girls enjoyed the holiday weekend. Well, except for Friday night when the tornado sirens went off. The last time the sirens went off it was last year and a tornado hit a small town not too far from Pleasantville. When the sirens go off, we take it seriously and head for the basement. Last year C. was asleep when they went off and William and I grabbed the girls and headed for the basement. He woke up a little later, a little put out that no one thought to wake him.

This time C. was awake and I sent Claire and Katie down first while I prepared a cup of milk for Marin. C. ran upstairs and was in the basement with Marin pretty quickly. He had scooped her out of her crib along with her quilt. Unfortunately she was missing her pants. As you all know, since I have been known to complain about it in the past, Marin likes to remove her pants and toss them over the side of the crib. So poor Marin was awakened to find herself half naked in our creepy, horror movie set basement. I have never seen her so scared. Marin was shaking so bad that I thought she was going to literally pass out.

Claire was crying as well. Marin was still the biggest concern because she was a baby version of hysterical. I covered her with her quilt and tried to reassure her but it wasn’t helping. She wouldn’t even take her cup, which is really unusual. She alternated between wanting Mommy, then Daddy and back again. I realized that we were playing a type of baby roulette what with all the passing back and forth of the naked baby. Then the moment came while her dad was holding her. She peed everywhere. Claire, Katie and I all cracked up laughing. We were laughing so hard that even Marin laughed. That was the high point of our unplanned trip to the basement.

The rest of the weekend wasn’t as exciting, fortunately.

My Girls

Babies and Bugs

Katie, yelling- “Mommy! Marin ate a little piece of gum with an ant on it!”

N- “It’s ok. It’s protein. It’s good for babies.”

Katie- “Marin, want another one?”

N- “Katie!”


Claire turned eight a few days ago and Marin is now two. I think that means that I should try to stop calling her ‘the baby’. She is talking more and more every day. She tries to sing the birthday song but it sounds a lot like “bird day to you” but beyond that becomes unrecognizable.

Marin is still thrilled with the potty. Just a few days ago I had to fish both a Pull-Up and an entire roll of toilet paper out of the ‘big potty’. I had kind of forgotten how wild two year old’s could be.

I was planning a longer post but a new alert came in from Claire on the ants. Marin just ate some more. Not a first for her.

I just overheard Claire talking to Marin and referring to her as "my little anteater".