Monthly Archives: April 2008

welcome home, er, mom!

this is what was waiting for us when we got home.


the fact that the kids spent several hours working on this really brought a tear to my eye. especially when i realized that my own children don’t know how to spell my name correctly.

lee, out.

i seem to have completely fallen off the face of the earth over at humor-blogs. please help a sister out and click, click, click. i promise, i’ll be funnier. really, i will.



ain’t nothing but a “g” thing

i’m blogging by blackberry so I’ll be brief.

today we went sightseeing in venice. we were taken to a place where the jewish merchants used live and sell their wares. our guide told us the place was called the ghetto. “what?” I said. “that word is pretty derogatory.” our guide explained that the word originally meant a factory of some sort and was pronounced with a soft g like jetto. then the germans came and effed it all up with their hard g and you know the rest.

anyway, so I’ve decided I’m going to pull a randall (a la clerks 2). I’m taking ghetto back for the jews. ghetto for life, oy vey .

fear of flying

no, i’m not talking about the classic 1970s woman’s lib book by erica jong, which coined the term, “zipless eff.” i’m talking about the terror-inducing, debilitating, completely irrational, white-knuckle fear i experience every time i have to get on a plane. martini.jpg

generally, i avoid all instances where i would have to fly. for example, over xmas break we DROVE from houston to orlando – in one day.

being that there’s no way to drive to paris, i’m pretty much screwed. so i have basically two options. be a complete basket case for about 10 hours. or, self medicate to the point of unconsciousness. i’m going to choose the latter.

when i was younger, i always used to throw down some drinks in the airport bar before boarding and passing out on the plane. but that would always leave me feeling very dehydrated and hung over. then a few years ago, i was complaining about flying to a doctor friend of mine. 

“oh, no, no, no.” he said. “come see me and i will give you something that will change your life.” he prescribed me xanax.

hooray for highly additive, narcotic, prescription drugs! i call them my happy flying pills, and they are awesome. there’s a reason why celebs have to go to rehab for abusing them and it’s because they are too much of a good thing.

so anyway, i have my small stash which i’m taking for the trip. our flight leaves in a few hours. i’ll take a few right as we board and while everyone is settling in, i’ll start silently repeating my calming, peaceful mantra: the pilot wants to live too…the pilot wants to live too.

i should be asleep before we leave the ground.

see you on the other side.

i’m not french, i just kiss that way

we leave for paris in six days. i’m trying to make the best of the situation, so i did some research to figure out how not to stick out like an ugly american while i’m there, and after everything i’ve learned, i’ve decided paris can blow me.

we’re gonna have some serious problems. i put everything into a nice little chart because i’m anal that way.

the french


my observations

sunglasses, worn 24/7. french woman don’t make eye contact. plus, colored contacts are considered a don’t. aqua tinted contacts for light eyes to enhance what god gave me. paris will just have to deal.
parisian women don’t have blond hair. long straight hair will give you away as a tourist. bi-monthly trips to the hairdresser for root touch ups. and i never leave home without my flat iron. yeah…tell it to bridgette bardot. jeez, freaking hypocrites.
no smiling. it’s considered a come on. i didn’t get veneers for nothing. WTF? this from the country where adultery is considered the national pastime, but smiling is a problem. i suspect this has more to do with the fact that most europeans have bad teeth.
no gratuitous cleavage. it’s tacky. i never miss an opportunity to flash the girls. it’s one of the few features i come by naturally. see above.
drink sweet aperitifs before dinner. i love a good dry martini. i may have to suck this one up and just drink wine. apparently, they charge per the ounce for cocktails.
white tennis shoes are a major faux pas. the gym? what’s that? strangely, i’m fine with this.
the art of the scarf. a chicly tied scarf gives a parisian woman instant style. in texas we have scarves too. they’re called bandannas. i just spent a couple grand getting my neck fixed. i’m not covering this bitch up.
carrying a knockoff designer bag is illegal. houston has it’s own version of china town. fake pradas run rampant. i blame this all on louis vuitton.
don’t laugh too loudly. it’s crass to draw too much attention to yourself. if i didn’t laugh everyday, i’d spend most of it crying. ummmm….you do read my blog, don’t you?
love to drink coffee. love to drink coffee. this could be a win/win situation. unfortunately, i hear it’s impossible to get it “to go.”
leather pants are inexplicably appropriate grocery store attire. live in shorts and flip flops, practically year round. since it’s still cold in paris in april, i’m willing to concede the shorts. dudes in black leather pants? i can’t wait.
everyone owns little dogs and they take them everywhere. my house is pet free. not even a fish. dog-lovers, bah. you don’t fool me for a minute. this is code for “there will be dog shit everywhere.”

you wont step in anything over at