Sit down, have some plaid.

I joined the hoards of Twilight Moms a few weeks ago and went to see New Moon. Like there was any question I’d miss it. Please.

And I’ll admit, since then, the re-emergence of my Edward Cullen obsession has been … troubling. Not only did I purchase the Twilight DVD so I could watch it the night before New Moon, I’ve watched it … oh … a good seven times since. The other day at Target, I caught myself pausing at a Twilight promotional endcap to fondle the Edward action figure.

Aaaannnd … admitting that makes me nauseous.

Don’t ask me to explain. I can’t. The screenplay leaves out major portions of the book. The acting sucks. I think it even got WORSE in New Moon. Kristen Stewart, in all her angsty-teen glory is 500 times more annoying this go around.

Which is why — HOOOLY HELL — when I saw this for the first time today, I howled.

[In homage to Jacob and the pack.]

My personal savior, ShamWow.

Tonight, as is the routine, when MP and I arrived home she bolted from the car and ran to Grammy and Poppy’s house. And just as I always do, I packed up backpack, lunchbox, sippy cup, artwork, boots, the mail, my bag, etc., and hauled the lot to our house next door.

I dropped everything at the door. I started MP’s bath. I went to the bathroom. I let the dog out. I walked out the door to go get MP.

And when Grammy asked if we wanted to stay for spaghetti dinner I said yes without hesitation.

An hour later, our bellies full, MP and I made our way home, across the driveway and up the snow-packed walk. Once in the door, out of habit, I walked directly to the bathroom to start MP’s bath. And a sick panic welled in the pit of my stomach.

Suffice it to say, the bathroom was effectively submerged. Water, water, everywhere, and not a mop in sight. I may or may not have used a few choice words. MP’s first reaction, on the other hand was to pull up her pant legs and puddle-stomp. Okay, I did a little stomping too.

But then I remembered my little Christmas gift to myself this year, sitting new and unused in the laundry room.

And now, I am officially a devout member of the Cult of the ShamWow. (And, all right, I DO love Vince’s nuts.)

Along the lines of ‘Go Climb a Rock.’ Or ‘Camping Is My Bag.’

Going through a dusty, ancient file cabinet in my office yesterday, Co-Worker QB came across THIS little piece of marketing history.

I sat at my desk and worked. She worked herself into a lather.

QB: OMG! We should totally put this on a shirt!

ME: That’s awesome.

QB: We could use the old logo too. We could ALL wear it!

ME: Totally retro.

QB: Retro, yeah! ProForma has these new shirts, they’re made out of bamboo … we could order those …

ME: Wait. What? BamBOO?

QB: Oh yeah, you can totally make anything out of bamboo.

ME: Bamboo?

QB: Yeah. I’d totally wear one.

ME: BamBOO.

QB: Dude. They make a crapton of stuff out of bamboo.

So I looked it up. And they DO make a crapton of stuff out of bamboo. There’s even a blog about it — 1,000 Things Made Out of Bamboo. It has a crapton of photos. One thousand, to be exact. There were more than a few I found interesting, however, the site is almost entirely in German, which … I do not speak. I can’t be sure about the descriptions, but I’ll give it my best shot.

First one’s a toss up. Nose Picker for the fingerless. Or one of the legs from that stupid spider at the end of the Stephen King TV Movie, IT.

Harnessing the power of old people with the Giant Hamster Wheel.

Some kind of musical instrument.

Or more likely, a bong.

Pod People Casings discovered after washing ashore following Hurricane Katrina. Hume Cronin is expected to emerge any day now. All shiny and new with magical powers.

Portable Periscopes. For Portable Bamboo Submarines.

Or bongs.

This one I’m sure of. Really bad beer.

And this newly discovered flotilla land mass. Huck Finn, eat your heart out.

So yeah. I totally want the Good Nature shirt.

Bamboo images borrowed from these guys.

This would be awesome if it were true.

This was MSNBC‘s home page earlier this week.

So I see this and I’m all, no WAY did a condom company use Beat It in their ad campaign. Because Sheik, that’s a condom brand right? And then I think, how freakin’ BRILLIANT. BEAT IT?!? And within seven seconds I see the actual commercial — staring Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords, no less — unfold in my head. It’s so awesome, that I’m sure Sheik must be a Nordic company because those crazy ass Swedes are the ones always making hilarious, raunchy ads that would never get air time in the U.S.

At any rate, no doubt MJ’s pissed because I’m sure Sheik didn’t actually ASK to use the song. Hence the lawsuit. You know if they HAD asked, he’d never go for it. Helluuu? Um, Gloved One??

But then it dawns on me the theme song would actually be counter-intuitive. Because if you’re using a condom, you’re probably not … er … yeah. When I finally DID click on the link, the story was about an actual sheik and NOT condoms.

And I was a little sad because I really, really liked the idea.

Then I scrolled down and saw the astronaut urine story, and perked right up.

Wiping noses and drool(ing over the vamps).

So the Board of Directors Retreat? Missed it. Yep. Woke up early Thursday morning to a very sick MP. After finally getting her coughing under control with the nebulizer, I was debating whether to go. And then she threw up. There was no way, in good conscious, I could spend the night an hour away. I THINK Conservaboss was cool with it … we’ll see Monday.

It’s now Friday night and she’s sleeping soundly, bouncing back already. I had a feeling this one was coming. Bobo’s had the Crud for a week; and last weekend MP and I hung out with my old friend Cannonball and her kids, who had it too. One way or another, she was gettin’ it.

The Cannonball Family was back in town for a visit — staying at her parents’ ranch on the other side of the mountains. MP and I drove up for the afternoon.

While Mr. Cannonball was out hunting with Grandpa Cannonball, she and I sat in her kitchen, drinking wine, woodstove blazing in the middle of the day, while our kids played.

I don’t even know how we got on the subject.

CB: This is gonna sound weird. There’s this book I’ve been reading …

ME: Mm hmm …

CB: You’d totally love it. It’s about vampires, and the guy …

ME: OMG! TWILIGHT?!?

CB: YES!!!

ME: Edward Cullen?!?

CB: OMG, YES!

ME: Hot.

CB: Uh, YEAH …

ME: I’m already on book three!

CB: I’m on book four!

(pause)

CB: What is WRONG with us?

ME: Edward is HOT.

CB: Um, YEAH …

ME: And Jacob? With the werewolf thing goin’ on?

CB: I KNOW!

(pause)

ME: We got issues.

CB: Totally.

So, for the uninitiated, the Twilight Series is a four-volume set of vampire books. Written for TEENAGERS. (Aaaand, it just gets more pathetic.) Chances are, you’ve heard of it, especially now that the movie’s coming out Nov. 21.

Oh yeah. CB had a People Magazine she’d picked up at the airport. We found a photo of the actor who’ll be playing hottie teenage vamp Edward Cullin. Which didn’t help things.

O.M.G.

We are sick, sick, mommies.

Image borrowed from this chick.

Wait … Will Smith is BLACK?!?

Match Will Smith’s head to his beach body.

Um … I guess … A.

No, no … E.

Crapper. H. It has to be H.

I’m having a little trouble.

It’s not like HE’S THE ONLY BLACK GUY IN A SEA OF WHITE GUYS.

US Magazine, you know I love ya, Babe.

But YOU are RI.DI.CU.LOUS.

Twitterho has a dream.

You know I’m a Twitterho.

Doogs, the New Media Douchebaggery has reached a new level.

My subconscious.

Twitter rehab may be in order.

Wrong Cathouse, Hef

MOOOOMMM!!

Mr. Hefner’s back.

What does he want now?

He’s looking for Paris.

He’s got the wrong cathouse. Tell him she left awhile ago.

Okay, but he doesn’t look so good. He’s kinda OLD.

I know, Honey. Just send him on his way. The cathouse he’s looking for is much bigger.

What about the three ladies holding him up?

Them too.

How to meet a billionaire and make an impression.

So, not last week but the week before, 24 robbers came knocking on my door I had a little brush with fame and fortune.

Billionaire Media Mogul Ted Turner was in town and was the guest of honor at a casual work thing. I’ll refrain from publishing my long-standing personal opinion of the guy — he knows where I work (and could probably have me killed fired). Suffice it to say, he has a long … history in this town. Yeah.

Anyhoo, I asked my boss in advance if he’d try to get a photo of me with Mr. T. In all honesty, I had no desire to actually MEET the man, but had high hopes for a shot of me making rabbit ears behind him. Or at least doin’ the air kiss. Instead, as I jockeyed for position, Bossman unexpectedly shoved me into our special guest, held up my camera phone and asked if I could have a picture with him. I think he might have even said, “she reeeaally wants one.” Did I mention he’s a JACKASS?

Duuuh. Nice to meet you Ted.

Are you feelin’ the HOLY AWKWARD MOMENT yet? Check out my face — that’s a cross between utter mortification and mighty restraint right there, people. Because even at this precise moment, I wanted to make the crazy face. What is wrong with me? (Besides that hair. Ecch.)

Then Ted and I had a little convo. Within 20 seconds, (girlfriend? wife?) Not Jane flew in from the sidelines. Ted, now wedged between Not Jane and Crazy Stalker Chick (that would be me), and clearly even MORE uncomfortable, fell over himself to introduce her. And I wanted so badly to break out laughing, because knowing that even Ted Turner is on a short leash is … funny.

Eventually event-goers made their way to the bar.

The people watching was most excellent.

And a glass of wine later, Grammy called to say she forgot to pick up MP and could I do it, seeing as preschool closed in 10 minutes and I was closer than she was?

Back to Mommy As Usual.

If Bloggywood were on cable …

The Sex and the City cast would look like this:

Pajama Momma as Samantha: “I chew those men up and spit ’em out.”

The Bloggess as Miranda: “But with more cursing and less money.”

Mommypie as Carrie: “Because a lot of you said you were Carrie … but, ahem … you failed to tell me WHO you were. PEOPLE! You left me with no choice but to join the new cast myself …”

Mental P Mama from The Mental Pause Chronicles: “Charlotte, but with a few years.”

Lookin’ good ladies!

Here’s how the numbers came out:

34% of you said you were most like Charlotte.
24% of you said you were most like Miranda.
21% of you said you were most like Carrie.
A mere 6% of you said you were most like Samantha.
2% of you said you were most like Mr. Big.
2% of you said you were most like Smith.
And 7% of you have no idea who these people are.

Apparently, Bloggywood is full of good girls and sharp witted chicks. And just a few ho-bags. (Uh, sorry PJM — LOVE YA!)

I saw the movie last night and, of course, loved it. I walked out of the theater wanting to shop, drink and have sex. All at once. It’s been awhile since I felt that way. Mama LIKE.

So, thanks to all m’doogs who participated in my little poll! The new cast was chosen by random drawing — I had every intention of posting photos but it’s late, and this cast member’s arse, itsa draggin’.