Sex in the City Countdown!

Ms. Single Mama alerted me to the news that the Sex in the City movie is coming out MAY 30!

Color me HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY!

The trailer gives a lot away, but after doing a little research, I’ve learned a small detail you may or may not have heard about. Someone dies. What?!? My money’s on Big. (Which, sadly, would be eerily similar to my life …)

I’ve wanted to try out a poll widget and thought this would be as good a topic as any to give her a test run. I REALLY wanted to place it over in the sidebar to run all month, but am quickly finding out WordPress sucks widgety eggs.

So, after HOURS of hair-pulling, I’ve learned that for the time being, all I can do is incorporate a lame link:

Yippee! The Sex in the City movie opens MAY 30! What character is most like you?
( surveys)

In the meantime, just in case the poll DOESN’T work, which is entirely possible, leave a comment as well so we can all revel in the return of the ladies!

If you need a character refresher, you can check out HBO’s cast page. And since I’m all about equal opportunity, I included some of the SITC men in the poll, if you happen to not be a member of the fairer sex. (Or, if you are a member of the fairer sex, but identify more with one of the dudes.)

What character most closely resembles you? If you were a character from Sex in the City, which one would you be?

(In case you missed the link the first time, here it is again. C’mon, take the poll. Everyone’s doing it …)

Yippee! The Sex in the City movie opens MAY 30! What character is most like you?
( surveys)

As for me, I’d have to say Carrie (Ahem. Hellooo, she IS the star.), with a little Samantha for good measure.

I’m fairly certain they don’t enjoy the GPs as much as I do though …

Trendsetting with Ma Doogs

I’m injecting something new into the blogosphere.

DOOGS. My new word for bloggers.

Doogie WAS the original blogger, after all.

Yeah. Doogs. Cool.

No? Really?

The Weekly Lineup

Lately, once MP goes to bed, I spend most of my time online. The dishes left to sit in the sink and the pile of unfolded laundry on the couch speak to that.

I’m not one of those sexy, dating single moms, like Rachel at Single Mom Seeking, or my blogging buddy Ms. Single Mama. I still like to think I’m a Yummy Mummy in my own right, however, this self-imposed exile from the dating world means a night out for this single mama is somewhat of a rarity these days. As for nightly entertainment, when I’m not glued to the laptop, I have my shows.

Okay, that sounded pa.the.tic. At least I didn’t call them ‘my stories.’

Just keepin’ it real. Not to the extreme of highlighting TV Guide, but here’s MY idea of a good time. Give me the couch, a warm blanket, a glass of red, and I’m fully satisfied. For the time being, anyway.

Hottest Show Evah
The Tudors season premiere is tonight and I’m so excited I could pee myself.

I think this ^ speaks for itself. Decadent. Yummy.

A Straight Woman’s Guilty Pleasure
The L Word, also on Showtime. I straight up LOVE this show. I want these women to be MY friends. They’re all so interesting and complicated and hip and fun and super hot. I’m addicted to these lesbians.

Can They Really Say That On TV?!?
Two and a Half Men is the only thing that’s kept me from giving up on network TV. I don’t think I’ve watched a single episode that didn’t have me howling with laughter. Far and away, it’s the king of the one-liners. And so raunchy. Huge fan of the raunch. Normally, I would probably pass on Charlie Sheen, but holy Hell, THIS show CRACKS ME UP. I want to go have beers and play darts with the writers – and I’ll buy. It’s that good.

Some memorable lines include:

Charlie: You’re like an Alzheimer’s patient in a whorehouse, constantly surprised that you’re getting screwed.

Charlie: I’ll admit you’re kookie Judith. But compared to our mother you’re like a fart in a hurricane.

Charlie: Drugs! Get me drugs!
Alan: No. Medication will only mask the pain.
Charlie: Fine, mask it! Give it a cape and let it fight crime, I don’t give a damn!

Charlie: [making a deal with Alan while standing at a urinal] Want to shake on it?

Charlie: [Alan is supposed to have a colonoscopy, and is very worried about it] Count your blessings; in the old days, they had to send a sketch-artist up there.

Rose: When your psyche is iffy, you can’t get a stiffy.

Charlie: People who live in fat asses shouldn’t throw waffles.

Alan: You’ll go to mom’s funeral, won’t you Charlie?
Charlie: Of course! As the eldest son, it’s my duty to pound the last stake into her heart.
Alan: That’s typical, nothing for Alan to do.
Charlie: Alright, you can chop off her head and put it onto a stake for the villagers.
Alan: Thank you!

Smooky Goodness
Ghost Hunters on the Sci Fi Channel – The BEST of the best. You may recall I love the ghosties … Unlike some of the other paranormal shows, I totally believe these guys. When they aren’t bustin’ spooks, they work for Roto Rooter – can’t get more grounded in reality than a plugged toilet.

Paranormal State on A&E – This one kind of creeps me out but I can’t stop watching.

Most Haunted on the Travel Channel – Totally fake, but admittedly entertaining.

DOND
I hate game shows.

I’m embarrassed to say, for some reason, this one has me addicted. And Howie’s one of my OCD peeps, so how could I NOT like it? (Just in case some of you didn’t know, that’s why he never shakes hands. Apparently, contestants are instructed before the show that, with the exception of the knuckle pound, there’s to be NO physical contact. I’m not that bad.) Plus, it’s one show I don’t feel guilty watching with MP. We guess case numbers together and she learns the difference between one dollar and one million dollars. Educational, right?

American Idol
My money’s on David Cook. Who cares if I’m 15 years older? When he sings, he makes me want to serve breakfast in bed.

It’s Late. Watching Conan. Not Carson.

Bjork is a space alien.

‘Nuff said.

And, tell me please, how is Carson Daly STILL on the air? Inquiring minds want to know.

Image borrowed from these guys.

The Worst Mom in the World

I am the worst mom ever.

EHVA.

We’ve gotten into a little weekend routine here at the Pie House that lately, I have to admit, has left me feeling a bit ashamed. MP wakes up around 8 a.m., at which time I get up, hose her off in the tub (not quite gettin’ the whole ‘making it through the night’ potty training thing juuust yet), get her dressed, brush her teeth, set her up with some juice, toast, granola bar, etc., turn on Noggin … and go back to bed.

Horrible. I know. I know!

Now here’s me, [pathetically] trying to justify my actions …

– The tv/family room is literally RIGHT outside my door, which remains open
– It’s healthy for her to learn the fine art of entertaining oneself
– I’m a better mom when I can get a little extra sleep
– I never FULLY fall back asleep, and can usually hear everything

Okay, I take that last one back. Here’s what I woke to a few months ago … an activity I did NOT hear:

Thank you, Jesus, for washable markers.

So this morning, I sleep a bit later than usual, re-awake just before 10, and realize it’s a little too quiet. I figure she’s probably working on another self-adornment project. It’ll wash off. I fade in and out of sleep for a few minutes, trying to drag my butt out of bed. The phone vibrates on my nightstand. Peering over with one eye half-open, I see my mother’s photo on the cell face. I put it down, and wait for the message. Thirty seconds elapses before it arrives. I dial my code, and hear MP’s tiny voice leaving an unintelligible message on my voice mail.

WHA??!?

I bolt out of bed, my brain lagging behind my body, trying to catch up and connect the dots. I speed dial Grammy, and MP answers.

“Hi Mommy! I’m sorry.”

I need to clarify that my mom in fact, lives just a few hundred feet away. We live down a long dirt drive, on a small bit of acreage, with virtually no neighbors. Think Everybody Loves Raymond. With a rural flair.

Which may sound better, but knowing that MP put on coat and boots, unlocked and opened the front door, and trekked across the snow to Grammy’s house without me hearing a thing confirms it …

I AM the worst mom in the world.

Apparently, she had written a letter while I was sleeping, and just wanted to give it to Grammy. I wasn’t mad at her – I was furious at myself. Add embarrassed, ashamed, horrified … Grammy got on the phone and told me they were on their way back.

After a serious five-minute discussion about leaving the house without telling Mommy, she asked if she could go back to play at Grammy’s. Which left me alone to think about MY actions.

Definitely NOT one of my shining motherhood moments.

A little extra sleep on the weekends will just have to wait a few more years. Period.

When Did 2 a.m. Become the New 11 p.m.?

As I sit here, barely able to pry my eyelids open, I can’t help by ask myself, “when did four to five hours of sleep a night become the norm?”

My nightly routine is starting to catch up with me. After picking MP up from preschool, getting her fed, bathed and into bed, with a story or two in between, I begin work at my second job as a web content editor. By the time I wrap that up, it’s anywhere between 10 and midnight.

I could sooo easily collapse into bed at this moment, but these hours are too precious to waste on sleep.

Instead, I stay up. I surf, write, watch deliciously vapid TV shows (can you say Nip/Tuck?), read, veg, whatever — eventually hitting the sheets around 2 a.m. Six o’clock comes waaay too early, I wind up sleepwalking through the day, and although I know this isn’t healthy, (I know this!) I continue the maddening routine.

I continue because I treasure my down-time. (Ironically, as I write this, it’s 10 p.m. and MP is up asking for a snack.) I need it. It’s my drug. I know this addiction of sorts isn’t something exclusive to single moms – it comes with being a mother, period.

On a related note, I promised myself I would start working out again. Ugh. I missed my self-imposed start date of Feb. 1, so come Monday, I now expect to be squeezing gym visits into my day.

How, I have no idea…

My Daughter Is A Little Shaggy

“Like, can I watch cartoons, Mommy?”

“Like, do we have gymnastics today?”

“Like, Grammy says I can have dinner at her house tonight …”

Sooo, exactly when did my daughter start channeling Shaggy? The origin of this disturbing (not to mention mildly annoying) new development has me stumped.

I’m hoping it’s just like, a phase she’ll grow out of.

Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed (2004)
Daphne: Guys, come on, remember what I told you?
Shaggy: Like, never pick your nose in public?
Daphne: No, but that’s … good too.
Scooby-Doo: Rimage ris everything.
Daphne: Yes, image is everything. Okay, the whole city is watching, so try to keep a brave face.