#Nohashtagneeded

Dear overly used Hashtag,

We know that your original purpose was to categorize posts on twitter. It was a glorious start to your career, those early days on twitter. When you lived a carefree life of one to two word sentences like #manicmondays and #tacotuesdays. Back when people didn't understand how powerfully obnoxious you could be.

Like television and movie executives, who took advantage of your splendor to measure their viewing audiences and gain free advertising for live events. Soon celebrities used you to shamelessly plug their fragrance and clothing lines.

Suddenly, you were everywhere. And that's when you leapt off of the pages of twitter and entered all sources of social media. Soon, even facebook was using you, though you had no apparent use on facebook.  As you began to gain momentum, so did the length of your taglines. Soon, people started using only hashtags to update their statuses or would use you to create obnoxiously long run-on sentences.

And then, you poor poor hashtag, people started using you in their verbal, everyday conversations causing their intellect to look considerably lower. You became a pop-culture language phenomenon without even trying.

Yesterday, just when we thought the uses for you could not get more absurd, it happened. Someone actually hashtagged #nohashtagneeded. It was almost as complex as the "if a tree falls in a forest does it make a sound?" reference. If there truly was no hashtag needed, then why was one used? And just like that you became obsolete; a flash in the pan.

Of course there will still be some of us that use you dear hashtag, it's inevitable. Your subtle sarcasm and overused puns are too tempting not to use. But just so were clear, it is NOT necessary to use you to appear more interesting, smart or funny. We do not need to use more hashtags than actual words and we do not, I repeat DO NOT need to hashtag that we do not need to hashtag.

Just so we're clear on where the line is old . Hashy.
Best,
Erin #peaceout
                 

Going Gray

You dread it, you run from it, you live in denial about it. But sooner or later, they come for you. You know what I'm talking about: Gray Hair.


When I was in college, I used to have a few friends who started to go gray. I thought to myself that it must be a fluke, some sort of Steve Martin scenario. I knew it would be forever before I would have to face the gray. Then I had 3 kids in 3 years and after my last baby, they came for me. Yes, I said THEY. Because you see, the gray isn't just a single strand, a lone wolf. No, it travels in a pack of hungry wolves devouring all of your youth and taking no prisoners.

I first found out about it while I was shopping with a friend. She had recently colored my hair and while browsing the ladies department we casually talked about how some of our friends were starting to go gray. I "felt bad" for those poor girls and was so lucky I hadn't succumbed to that fate yet. She bashfully said, "Um, yes you have." What? No, I would know if I did. I'm positive I would. She then proceeded to tell me that she found a whole bunch of them in the back of my head but just colored them and didn't say anything. Can I just take the time to say something right now?

A true friend sees you have gray hair, but doesn't say anything about it.

Since that fateful day, I have been obsessive compulsive about my grays. It's something I notice so much everytime I look in the mirror. I know that I'm probably overreacting. I mean, it cannot possibly be the first thing people see. But then again, maybe it is? 

Maybe I could embrace it and make it a whole fad. I could pull of a Cruella Deville kind of scenario right? 

It's hard to swallow the fact that I have officially entered this strange and mysterious world. The world where your knees don't quite work like they used to, and suddenly the wrinkle cream aisle doesn't look half bad. Well I might be getting older, but that doesn't mean I'm old yet. I'm not going down without a fight. Maybe a trip to Paris, or a skydiving adventure? I don't know. But I'm embracing this new hair color. Because, let's face it, I've earned every one.

In a world without pants

I hate wearing pants. I really really do. They cling to you, in the most uncomfortable ways. They always seem to be either too tight or too loose. And don't even get me STARTED on jeans- hate hate hate them.

My legs love to be free. To feel the wind between them, to roam about as I choose. This sounds weird to most people I know. But most people aren't me. I think even if there was a way to paint on my pants I wouldn't do it. It would probably feel too gooey or sticky. Yeah, I just plain old hate pants.

My husband really did not realize this fact about me until we got married. At first, he found it quite odd. Now he's used to it, as are my kids. I find it to be most useful. EXCEPT when something happens like: Someone unexpectedly drops by and visits you. Or the UPS guy needs your signature, or your neighbor is in his backyard and can see you in yours, or when you need to finish up that load of laundry and you don't have an attached laundry room. Yes, these are the real bummers about being pantless. But mostly, it's just because other people would find it odd. I wonder if I just randomly one day answered the door pantless. What would people do? How would they respond?

One can't say with certainty what they would say. But I bet it would dramatically cut back on the amount of friends that were "in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by." Hmmm.... maybe I should do this....

Ode to a dirty floor

This is what my floor looks like on most days. This is what it looks like AFTER I've vaccummed it. It is why I don't have people over, it is why I feel like a failure. Because this floor never stays clean. I walk all day in filth and I feel like there really isn't anything I can do about it. It's nasty, it's disgusting....it's my life.

Won't YOU be my neighbor?

Dear Annoying Neighbors:

I realize that you grew up in the ghetto parts of L.A. but there are certain things that, as neighbors, it's common sense NOT to do here in NORTHERN CALIFORNIA.

#1- When you have 4 children, it is customary to occasionally take them out to parks, and events so they are not always outside screaming at the top of their lungs at all hours of the day and night.

#2- I like the Beastie boys as well, but when it is so loud that it is actually shaking the foundations of my house (next door to yours) perhaps you should be considerate and possibly turn the stereo down, or at least the base.

#3- When you and your wife are having a marital conflict, it might be a good idea to not leave all the doors and windows open so that our entire neighborhood can be privy to the happenings (or non-happenings) in your marriage.

#4- Screaming at your children all day is not a really great method of parenting.

#5- Watching a movie at 1am is fine. Watching a movie at 1am that is so loud when I am sleeping in my bed I can actually pick out which movie it is, is NOT fine.

#6- When you are so stinking loud, inconsiderate and annoying it does NOT make me want to run out and be your friend. So please do not stalk me as I go in and out of my garage, backyard, and house. It's creepy and weird.

The End of an Era

If you're from Redding, you know about Discovery Village. If you're a Redding die-hard, you will remember that the summer of 2000 when it opened, it was the most happening spot in town. Anyone who was anyone was there, dressed to impress, sipping a frappuccino or a jamba juice.


10 years later, it is now a desolate area, inhabited only by teenagers and people who need directions back on to the freeway. So naturally, I wasn't too surprised when I heard that Starbucks was closing the Dana Drive store for good. Not surprised, but a little sad.


A flood of emotions came when I heard the news. I thought about the first date I had with Tim, sitting in it's crowded foyer. I thought about how I moonlighted as a barista at the Dana Drive Starbucks, where I slung coffee beans for a year and a half. I thought about how Tim came in with a guitar and serenaded me in front of a huge crowd at Starbucks. I thought about how I randomly ran into a group of Canadians that I knew when I was a kid, just sitting in the oversized chairs. What were the odds?


So many memories surround the Bucks on Dana Drive that I will indeed be tearful when it closes it's doors forever. What are YOUR Dana Drive memories?

One Car Blues

There is nothing more difficult than having one car and a husband who has the strangest schedule.

It means that you have to wake your kids up just to have the car. And after they have screamed in that car for a half hour while you drive to the grocery store to get MUCH NEEDED things, who wants to actually go in? Not me.

Boo one car, I miss the 2 car days.

Bad Things happen in sixes?

I haven't felt much like blogging lately. I would have to say that a huge contribution to that has been the amount of things that have fallen apart in my home in the last 2 weeks. I have a february theory, and so far it has held up for 5 years. Every year in February, enevitably something comes up that costs a lot of money, and my birthday gets overlooked due to insufficient funds. This year, Tim was determined not to let that happen so he bought my present early. Which, I totally love, but unfortunately... February still came with hardships.

First, our computer pretty much shut down. It now only works for 10 minutes at a time, so writing blogs can be infuriating.

Then our vaccuum cleaner broke, that sucked....or actually it didn't.

Then our dryer broke. Let me tell you, committing to putting things out on a line when it is pouring down rain is difficult. Laundry takes like 4 times as long and I am feeling like a settler on the Oregon trail.

Then our dishwasher broke. Great, because I SOOOO have time to wash every dish by hand. You can imagine how clean my house looks right now.

Lastly, both our cars went caput. The Nissan we were given this summer continues to fail smog tests, and the only way it'll pass is if we drop $800 on a new air filter. Awesome, I so had $800 to spare. The Saturn has had issues forever, but we simply can't afford to fix both cars at the same time. So now we're back to one, not-working-that-well car.

I dunno, what I do know is I am out of patience, out of money, and out of energy.

Naughty List Nominee

Dear California Department of Motor Vehicles:

It has been 6 weeks since I have sent in my application for a new Driver's License. I can't buy alcohol, or cold medicine, or even spray paint. I'm not sure why I would want spray paint, but hey I might someday.

I realize that with budget cuts and fulough days that perhaps you might be a bit backed up. But 6 weeks? Come on people.

Therefor it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that I have contacted Santa and you are officially on the naughty list this year. And if I don't receive my driver's license by the new year, you are going to be on the 2010 list as well! So get those little DMV elves crackin' people... you only have 2 weeks left!

Lord of the Flies

I feel like flies have been the theme of this summer; the constant battle between me and them has been a part of each of these hot days. I am the fly killer in my house, not because I am particularily good at it, but because nobody seems to mind them as much as I do. Gone are the days of chivalry I guess.

Today was a particularily rough day as Eli threw up most of the morning, and Noah has the sniffles. I did about 4 loads of laundry, was puked on several times, and have been cleaning little messes all day. Fast forward to this afternoon when I went into Eli's room to change his diaper.

Before I go on, I must divulge that there is a garbage war in our house. It is a constant fight over taking the trash out. It isn't my job, so I try not to do it. But the trash taker-outer has figured out that if it sits long enough, I will get so tired of looking at it that I will throw it out. Again, I try desperately not to do this. So back to today.

I was changing Elijah's diaper and added it to the brimming and overflowing trash in his garbage can. I panned to his wall, and I saw 4 small flies near it. Gross, I thought. Then I scanned to the next wall, 8 flies. Sick, I thought. Then I scan to the next wall, 5 more flies. Nasty, nasty, nasty! So I locked me and Eli in his room that now smells like a toilet due to the 111 degree weather plus the disgusting garbage that hasn't been taken out.

There I spent 30 minutes chasing masses of flies around his small room. Whacking, and groaning, it sounded more like a tennis match then a firing squad. All the while, Elijah just sat and laughed hysterically, falling over at how funny mommy was huffing and puffing. There were so many fly carcuses on the floor that I had to vaccuum them up. And when I finally took the trash out and vaccummed his room, I found 4 more flies. How do they do that?

An hour later, I am now covered in bug guts, baby poop and puke and ofcourse, my own sweat. All over a garbage war. I am sooooo getting a pedicure.

An open letter to Target

Dear Target:

Did you think I wouldn't notice that you changed from packages of 40 diapers to packages of 32? Did you think I wouldn't see that you charged $2 extra per package, with less diapers?

Maybe some are fooled by your "fancy new packaging" and your "colorful new diapers". I'm not.

I know the economy stinks right now, but I really wish you wouldn't take it out on those poor diaper-buying Americans out there.

As a result, I'm thinking about making homemade diapers out of leaves from bushes in my backyard. Eco-friendly right? 

But I wonder if they would be as absorbant.....?

This world has nothing for me, and this world has everything.

Remember that song by Caedmon's Call? I find myself humming it today, as it is exactly how I feel. 

Tried out Nor-Cal gymnastics today and was taken aback by their rules and regulations about open gym. Had a bad experience with an employee who was less-than-compassionate about Elijah's physical limitations.

It's kind of frustrating when people don't understand or rather are not willing to understand what life is like for a kid with a disability. Not that I'm asking for special treatment. I guess I just think if we have to always get the constant gawking, and questions about the giant blue cast on his arm, can't we at least be able to go to open gym and not run into problems?

It just urks me that the world touts such PC standards, when really it's not built for people who are different.

So I am listening to Caedmon's call, and trying to forget about it.

The kind of heartbreak that stays with you

Back in 2002 when it wasn't cool to go to a Coldplay concert, Tim surprised me with tickets to see them at the Sleeptrain Ampi-theatre in Marysville. When we would tell people who we were going to see, they would mostly respond by saying, "Who?" 

It was the coolest concert I have ever been to, and such a memorable night. I have always wanted to go back to another one and see them live.

 We tried in 2005 when X & Y came out to go in Atlanta, but we were broke and it didn't work out. Then last summer they were scheduled to go to Sacramento- we were thrilled. We saved for 3 months. Then.... they cancelled the concert. I was so upset at them, that I boycotted buying "Prospekt's March" for 5 months in protest. (I am sure they really noticed the absence of $10 from me.) Ofcourse, I had to give in and buy it, I couldn't go on without owning every album.

Just a few days ago, my loving sister-in-law sent me a link that said Coldplay had planned to come back to where it all started, the SleepTrain Ampitheatre in Marysville this July. I found out about it the day before tickets went on sale, and 3 days before Eli's surgery (which always drains our bank account.) So, I sadly missed out on the experience of a lifetime.

This totally bums me out. Oh Chris, wherever you are in internetland, could you happen upon my blog and take pity on me? (Afterall, I did eventually buy Prospekt's March). I promise, all will be forgotten. 

P.s. Would it help for you to know that I am really considering naming my son after your band?

Teething and the fall of man

My son has been really good at finding my breaking point lately. Particularily with the high decibal level he achieves through screaming. I can't say that I blame him. He is cutting 4 molars simultaneously and is in a lot of pain. Usually I can handle it, but at 4am those glass shattering screams are not easily tolerated. Yesterday was particularily bad when I had to get ready to take him to the hospital. 2 hours and a couple hundred temper-tantrums later, I decided to give up. As patient as I try to be with him, and as much as I try to be understanding, by the end of the day I am throwing things at walls and breathing fire. 

While enduring a very long screaming session yesterday, I developed a theory about teething.

I believe that teething was created by the fall of man. You see, Adam and Eve were created with a perfect set of teeth, they never experienced cutting a tooth. But then Adam bit into that red deliciousness (alright so the bible doesn't specify what fruit it was, but I always imagine it was an apple because bad things happen to people who eat apples, just ask Snow White). Once he bit into that apple, our fate was sealed. Yes, woman would have pain in child-bearing, we knew that one. But I believe God also created pain in teething then. It's something that every child (and anyone within a 10 mile radius of the child) must go through; a right of passage if you will. 

Subscribing to this theory helps me see teething for what it really is; a horrible thing from the pit of hell. And everytime I hear the screaming I am reminded to repent, "Dear God, I am sorry for all that I have done, please forgive me... and make it stop God, make it stop!"

They got rid of my girl!

This blog pertains to Joanna Pacitti, my pick for American Idol this year. Some of you may not know her backstory. I first heard about her in 1996 during a nation-wide search for the next Annie. It was covered by Dateline, or 20/20, one of those news shows. 

Out of what seemed like millions, they narrowed it down to Joanna, an unknown 11-year-old. She played Annie for several weeks off-broadway, and then when the show moved to Broadway got some sort of bronchitis and was replaced by her understudy. This made national news as it crushed poor Joanna's little dreams of becoming a broadway star. It made me sad for her, then I flipped the station and never thought about her again.

Years later,  I happened upon an MTV documentary following young adults looking to make it in show business. When who did I find, but little orphan Annie all grown up. She was working on a record deal, writing songs and performing in strip malls. She appeared to be going for the Ashley Simpson crowd, and she was good too. I thought to myself, "This is the break she finally deserves." 

At the end of the documentary, it mentioned how her record company dropped her. This, again made me sad, then I flipped the channel again.

Then came this season of American Idol. The second week of auditions I came acrossed a very familiar face- Joanna. With her signature dark eyeliner and blazing brown hair, she belted out a tune that proved she really was the star no one let her become. I was so excited to watch her go through Hollywood week. And just last night it was cool to watch the judges on American Idol finally give her a shot. I really thought her big break could be here. Plus, I really liked having someone to root for this season.

Cut to today when it was announced that Joanna was disqualified from being in the top 36. Appearantly, there were some outraged fans who didn't like that she had a record deal before, and had sang in strip malls (as glamorous as that is). The show is not saying exactly why she was disqualified, but it's looking like little orphan Annie is once again left out in the cold. When is someone gonna give this girl a break? 

What's sad is, there are people like Jessica Simpson and...gulp.... even Scarlett Johannson who have absolutely NO TALENT and have made albums. I mean, you'd be crazy to let someone with ACTUAL TALENT and GOOD LOOKS make an album right? Poor Joanna. And poor me, as I now have to find someone else to root for this season. 

Cheap... or thrifty?

I'm such a cheapskate. It's really quite pathetic. Even though I have been saving money for a month to pay for Elijah's surgery, I still find my inner penny-pincher cringing at giving up so much money just to stay in a hotel. Ofcourse, when I think about how much money I am saving on a hospital stay and surgery, I should really count my blessings.

Still, I can't help but spend hours on Priceline and other various hotel-saving websites looking for that "deal" that I am seriously never going to find. On another note though, it is alarming how little discounts hotels give for families of Shriner's patients. I mean, they could be making some serious business if they actually grew a heart. It reminds me of the Grinch who's heart is 2 sizes too small. But, I digress....

I'm cheap. I need to let go of that.

Is there a doctor in the house?

Why is it so hard to find a doctor in Redding? I've lived here for a year and still haven't found one. It seems like everybody has their opinions about what doctor you should get and why. None of them ever seem to be the right reasons to me I guess.

As sad as the little community of Toccoa is in economic growth, customer service, and general manners, I do have to commend them on their excellent medical staff and facilities. For such a tiny town, they had such state of the art equipment and were always very fast and friendly.

Though I am not waving a Georgia flag in my front yard or anything, that part of things I miss. It seems to be the last piece of the moving puzzle I have not yet solved. So I continue to search in hopes that one day I will find a good doctor in Redding.

Bluetooth Blues

With it being the law and all, I recently got a bluetooth.I am sure that the people that created the hands free law were probably trying to protect drivers out there. I mean, there is always someone being sideswiped by a driver who is on their cell. Accidents increase, insurance rates go up... it's not a good scene.

So, I do have to say that I think it was a good idea generally for them to create this hands-free rule.But with the vast 3 day experience I have had with the hands-free technology, I am not so sure it is going to prevent the kind of accidents we were hoping to avoid. So first of all, I am not an idiot, but setting the thing up was a challenge. I realize that reading the directions helps, but when there are so many, who has the time? So I made Tim do it. Which is fine, and he did a great job, but now I don't know how to work the darn thing.

Sunday I get in the car on a shopping trip. I have my cell in-hand, my bluetooth on my ear and I am ready for some serious talking. The first call I make is to my mother, and after about 5 minutes of fiddling with it to turn on, I get it to work.. we talk, yada yada. Second call I have to answer, now this is a little trickier. And appearantly it proves to be too tricky for me because I completely lose the call in the process. The third call I am in the process of driving when I make it (big mistake by the way) and spend about 5 minutes just repeating, "hello?".

My point simply is this: The bluetooth may not be the smartest invention if the whole point of the hands-free lifestyle is to keep your hands in the 10 and 2 position. I still get sideswiped by people ANSWERING their blue-tooth. Totally defeats the point. But hey, at least it looks cool.

What a difference a day makes (my trip to the DMV part 2)

What a difference a day makes (my trip to the DMV part 2)
I have been dragging my feet for some time going back to the dreaded DMV, but, reluctantly, I made it there and this time, I brought backup.

As my good friend Frank Sinatra says, "What a Difference a day makes..." and boy he isn’t kidding. My friend Jenny watched the baby- which solved the icky-people-touching-my-baby problem. Then I brought my husband along (who doesn’t exactly look like a bouncer at a club, but he is manly in hiw own right). I had my game face on, my war paint was pasted, and I was ready to brawl. As I nervously studied for the test I shouldn’t have had to take, I spotted the lady at window number 7, whom I got last time, and sat in total hope that I would get ANYBODY besides her. Finally, after a lot of nose slurps from the gentleman next to me, it was time for us to face the music.

We got the most stunning greeting, "Hello how may I help you?" It was like God sent his angel down to help us. For real, this lady was beautiful, prestine and so kind. She helped us out in a jiffy and apologized for the rude behavior we got last time- MY JAW DROPPED. Then, after all that I asked her if I could please take the written test. She looked at my application and said, "Well I don’t know who told you that you had to do that, but this is just a renewal, here’s your temporary one and your new California driver’s license will be mailed to you in a few weeks."

WHAT??!??!??

So, if you are in Redding and have to go down to the dreaded DMV, try your darndest to get the sweet blond headed lady at window number 1. And run away and hide if you get the mean one at window number 7!

A blog of epidemic proportions

felt the title was fitting, because my blog today children is about: FLU SHOTS

I have never understood the purpose of flu shots. I mean, I believe in modern medicine and everything. And protecting oneself against the spread of such things as: Hepatitus B or ya know.... small pocks. And if there were such shots during the dark ages, I would have encouraged them so as to not spread the Bubonic Plague.

However, I cannot in good conscience understand why anyone would inject themselves with a form of the flu to prevent them from the flu, only to then get the flu. If, said shot, did in fact guarantee you would not get the flu then yes, I would see the value in paying $15 to get injected. However, most people that get vaccinated end up contracting the disease anyway. And, the side-affects often include a form of the flu. So, I have to ask... what is the point?

It is exactly like those commercials you see on TV about anti-depression medicine. The happy people play around in leaves or jump in a lake, and the lady announcer quietly says, "Side affects of this anti-depressant may include increased feelings of suicide." WHAT?!??!??
There is something seriously messed up with giving yourself a drug that is supposed to get RID of those feelings, only to feel even MORE depressed!

The same can be said with the flu. Why put yourself through the shot process when there is a good chance you will contract it anyway?

FLU SHOTS- you're on my good riddance list... be warned!