Tag Archives: writing

Big Pimpin’ Loud Talkin’

19 May

Loud talkers have got to be the most annoying people on the planet. I’m sitting here at my local Coffee Bean on Beverly Drive trying to write, key word – trying. I am seated next to the loudest of all loud talkers ever.

He’s mid to late 60’s, faded New York accent, shades on, decent looking guy. Still has his hair and a young mans shape. He’s sitting with a group of about four other men his age and they are currently discussing sex. Yuck.

Now, if there is anything worse than a loud talker, it’s a loud talker that talk about inappropriate subject matter in front of children. My kids are all spoken for and signed into their classrooms.
The woman sitting next to me is not so lucky. She is with her daughter who looks to be about 8 years old. I want to warn the mother that she should probably just leave now. I’ve been sitting next to this guy for 20 minutes and she should take her daughter and leave before she hears something that can’t be unheard.

Loud talker: I mean come on guys, we aren’t fu**ing gorgeous women like we used to and we should be. We are good looking guys! I looked like Tom Selleck in the 70’s.

His Friend: I love you man. Let me show you pictures of me from the 80’s, I was a handsome son of a bitch. Like a young Jerry Seinfeld, but funnier.

Loud Talker: I was a Hair Stylist, I could make you look 10 years younger. You could get some real tail with my help. Isn’t this weather amazing?! I don’t have to worry that I will come home and my cat will be dead!

It was after this strange cat statement that the Mother sitting next to me decided to get up with her daughter and leave. I wonder what the final straw was for her. Was it when he said, f**cking gorgeous women or was it when he talked about his possibly dead cat?

Today’s post is dedicated to you Mr. Loud Talker. Not only are you loud and disruptive, you are offensive and totally odd all at the same time. People are right, L.A. Is full of untapped talent.



Panties in Public

24 Apr

There are some days when I absolutely love having my blog. It gives me a place to rant and rave, to practice my writing chops and it makes me feel less alone in the Mommyhood.

Today, I hate that I have a publicly read blog. My top search term for people who found my blog online was:

That doesn’t make me happy. I refuse to imagine what those people were looking up when they accidentally found the introspective overwhelmed Mom from Beverly Hills.
I usually think its pretty amazing that I have followers from all over the world. I get to connect with people that I would otherwise never meet.
But, it’s times like these when I’m reminded that not everyone is good. Especially when I am laying it out into cyberspace and just praying my stories end up in the right hands.
I’m not going to ever stop writing publicly because of the few that are not here to read my fantastically informational, not to mention hilarious stories ;)
I will admit, today I was reminded that I made a decision by having this blog for all the world to read, and I hope it was the right one.



My Imaginary Magical Nook

22 Apr

I dream of one day having my own little writing spot. Somewhere in the house that is just for me and the little things that make me happy. A cozy daybed maybe or a gigantic overstuffed grandfather chair. Some warm blankets and an unobstructed view of anything that isnt man made. I dont care if its a tree, the ocean, a field, or a swamp. As long as I’m not gazing out at brick, stucco, plastic or fiberglass then it works for me.

I can’t exactly imagine the details of my little nook. The colors are not that clear and the styling isnt precisely one way or another. What is vivid about my imaginary space is the way it feels.
It feels safe and warm, the womb of my home. The place where I can show my stripes and fly my flag without having to think twice. It is my space alone, just me and my words, whatever they may be at that very moment.

There are obviously going to be rules for my writing fantasy spot;

1. No children allowed.
2. No exceptions to rule #1. When I am in my spot I am invisible, even to wounded whining offspring.
3. No perfume. Too much perfume makes me sick. Other people’s strong perfumes are like noise pollution. Every guy blasting Megadeth out of his car with all the windows down thinks it sounds great. Every girl drowning in Flowerbomb thinks she smells delightful. They are both wrong and both not allowed in my nook.
4. Nobody can read my writing unless I specifically say, “Could you please read this and let me know what you think?” If you don’t hear those exact words, then do not read my work. yes, its controlling, but it’s my pretend writing spot so I can do that if I want to.
5. There has to be a walls of books. Books make me happy. Especially the books from my childhood. They let me escape, they help me to dream, books make me absolutely have to write. A book and a kindle or iPad are not the same. An illustrated hardcover Children’s book is a magical thing. My nook must have lots of them.

Until my secret hideaway can become a reality, I will have to make do with what I’ve got. I currently write from my car, my living room, the tiny toddler chairs in my kitchen, my bed, my closet floor, and I have been known to lock myself in the bathroom to get a little writing done.

This post was written from my dining room table. Definitely not a magical and serene spot, but I guess it did the trick.





Knee Deep in Cheerios and Chocolate Milk – But Not Alone

7 Feb

I ran into one of my good friends L.M. today at Coffee Bean. I had the twins with me and as they spilled $20 worth of chocolate milk on the ground, she asked me a question that I’ve been getting a lot of lately, “Why haven’t you written anything on your blog?”
My hair stylist, the pharmacist, the UPS guy, my Dad and now my friends all want to know why I haven’t posted anything here for a few weeks. My friend said to me, “You may not know this, but your writing makes me happy, I look forward to reading it.”

It’s interesting, I never seriously thought about it that way. That by sharing my ridiculous tales about the twins and the mini-diva, that I might be making someone else feel better. When I first started publishing this blog I really had no clue who would actually read it. I did know that it was therapeutic for me and I enjoyed writing again. When I actually started to have followers and subscribers, I wanted to be flattered, but I was also sure that it was a mistake. Now, when I look at my numbers and statistics, I get it, people are actually reading my blog. Crazy!

When L.M. told me that my writing makes her happy I realized why most people read my blog (besides my parents, they have no choice) it’s because they can see that they are not alone.
I might be writing from Beverly Hills but I may as well be in Boise or Birmingham. The feelings that a Mother of small children seems to experience runs true no matter what your geographical locale might be.

I know what you’re thinking, In Boise they don’t hang out with celebrities and attend catered 1st birthday parties for 400 of the toddlers closest friends. Maybe not, but what is the same is the desire to do right by your kids. The desperate need to make them feel safe and loved. The exhaustion and frustration at the end of a tough day alone with them. The fear that everyone else got an instruction manual on parenting except you.

I haven’t written in awhile because I’ve been waiting for the perfect subject to come to mind so I could publish a witty yet heartfelt post. Despite getting to that point, I’m posting anyways. Because I’m not perfect, my writing is far from it, and it makes my friend L.M. happy.

It’s nice to be back. I missed you guys too.



Potty Perspective

15 Jan

I know the saying goes; G-D will never give you more than you can handle. I get it, the concept that a person can handle anything that is thrown their way. I know that no matter happens in my life, I will find a way to get through. I may not be graceful, quiet, or completely rational as I wade through tough times, but I always get through.
Everyday as I go about my life as a busy Mommy of three I interact with people, women especially, that inspire me. Women that have encountered hardships that I could not even imagine. Women that have twice as many children as I do (gulp). Women who don’t have nearly the amount of support that I have in my husband, my siblings, my friends, my babysitter and all the grandparents. They help me to remember that things, everything could always be much worse.
A lot has been shifting and changing around here. I’m cooking, organizing, exercising, spending more quality time with the kids, re-connecting with friends, writing, and even blow drying my hair at least twice a week. The way I discipline the kids, the way we eat as a family, our entire routine has been tweaked and twisted.
At first, the kids pushed back. There were lots of tantrums, crying and even some awesome biting. (not by me) Then, we all calmed down and eased into our new schedule and new rules.

I woke up today feeling like I might actually be the one in charge here.

Then T and J announced that they were both going to wear underwear today. Just like that, cold turkey, no training or warning. Two 2 and a half year olds in underwear for the first time in the middle of all our family changes.

G-D never gives you more than you can handle. Either that or he has a sick sense of humor.



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