Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better -or- How Delusional Thou Art

I have a problem.  See, I see things on etsy (the online craft emporium) and I think - huh, I could make that.  I mean, it looks easy enough.  So I secretly yearn for the supplies.  I go to the craft supply store and look longingly at the materials I would need and price out the cost of each project.  I wrestle internally with rationalizing my need for this new creative outlet.  I feel held back by my lack of supplies.  I am tethered to the world of the uncreative by my inability to finance my artistic dreams.  But then, one day, I go for it.  I decide to try my hand at this new craft.  Usually I justify my purchase of materials under the guise of "I'm making it as a gift for a friend" and "It is much cheaper than buying the finished project."  The former is typically true.  I have all intentions of giving this as a gift.  The latter is also true.  If I had the talent, the project would be much cheaper than purchasing a final product.  The problem is that I know better than to believe both of these "excuses."  So today, I sit down with my clay and my sculpting tools to make a wedding gift for a friend.  It takes all of ten minutes for me to realize that this craft is going the same way as many of the other crafts I have attempted over the course of my life.  See when it comes to crafts, I am either a natural or I totally and completely suck.  There is no in between.  No grey area where the project turns out "good enough."  Its either awesome or crap and todays experiment was a big stinking pile of crap.  So I pass on the clay to my daughter to play with.  The tools will probably make it to a yard sale ten years or so in the future after living in a closet or the basement until then.  My ideas of sculpting the perfect gift are quickly thrown by the wayside.  They join the ranks of the pottery wheel, the handmade drapes, the quilt, the afghan, the cake decorating, the painting, the ceramics and all the others in my ever-growing unfinished craft project graveyard.  I should probably just stick with jewelry, card making, scrapbooking and drawing - things I know I can do.  But even as I type this, I think of the faux stained glass and the mosaic tile creations I have seen.  Surely they can't be THAT hard???  Hi, my name is quirky and I'm a delusional crafter . . .

Insert Jeopardy Theme Music Here

I am sitting and waiting.  God I hate waiting.  I am waiting for some woman to call me back.  Waiting for a phone call.  Quite possibly the worst kind of waiting.  I also hate health insurance red tape and snooty doctor's office employees. I would say that I hate health insurance but they keep things from costing like a million dollars so I don't hate them, I just hate their red tape.  Let me start at the beginning.  My daughter went to see a specialist who wanted to refer her to another specialist.  So after much schedule juggling (they told me initially that they couldn't get her in before she left for school), we went to see this other specialist on Wednesday.  We sat in the office for about 45 minutes just to have a woman come out and tell us that she couldn't be seen because they didn't have a referral.  Even though when I scheduled the appointment, I asked the person if they had the referral and she said yes.  Then the woman changed her story and said well we didn't have the right kind of referral and that it had to be from her PCP anyway.  So we drove to the PCP's office and stood there while they made the referral.  I also asked them to call and make me another appointment to avoid being told again that they couldn't get her in before she left for school.  They made the appointment for the next day because like the other specialist, the PCP thought she should see the new specialist right away.  So, Thursday we go to the new specialist again.  When I get there to check in and give my daughter's name, the same woman from the day before jumps up and literally runs over with our file to state that we still don't have the right kind of referral.  I said that we got one from the PCP and she said it still wasn't right.  I stated that we stood there while they did it and I didn't know what more to do.  Then this nice lady offered to call the PCP's office and explain to them what was needed.  She came back and assured me that Lori at the PCP's office would be calling me but that we couldn't see the new specialist until after Lori had called because then it would be covered by our insurance.  I asked if I would have trouble rescheduling before my daughter left for school and she said that her name was Kathy and I was to ask for her when I called if there was any trouble.  So I waited all day yesterday for this Lori to call.  I waited all through this morning for Lori to call.  Lori never called.  So at 11 am I took it upon myself to call insurance.  They said that the referral was good as of Thursday afternoon and that we were good to go see the new specialist.  So I called the new specialist's office and was told she can't have an appointment until the end of September.  I told the woman on the phone that I was told to ask for Kathy if there was a problem with the scheduling.  She said maybe I meant Chris and I said no, I mean Kathy and she said well Kathy is out to lunch right now but can I take your name and number and have her call you back?  I gave her my name and number.  Its 1 pm.  Apparently they take really long lunches at that office because she still hasn't called me back.  Oh and did I mention that the PCP is on vacation next week so its not like his office will be able to help me get an appointment.  This whole thing is just one big mess.  My hubby already called his HR department to find out if we could switch to a PPO (where you choose your doctors and specialists, it just costs more) instead of our HMO especially since our daughter will be going away to college and won't have access to her PCP to get referrals and such.  They said that moving to college was not a life change so we would have to wait until the next calendar year to switch to the PPO.  They said that if she were a spouse who was going from part-time emplyment to full-time employment or vice-versa that those circumstances are considered a life change but not moving to another state away from your family (and PCP).  That's not a life change at all.  Whatever.  So I wait.  I hate waiting.  She's not going to call is she?  She is never going to call and I am going to have to call them back again and go through the whole process over again.  Have a nice vacation PCP.  I'll just be here waiting.  Have a great three hour lunch Kathy.  I'll just be here waiting.  Have control over my life health insurance company.  I'll just be here waiting.  No.  I'm not waiting anymore.  I'm calling again because if you want something done, you have to be forceful and push or people just walk all over you or forget about you.  That's it.  I'm calling again.  No more waiting for me. . . . Ok, I'm back.  I got an appointment and she said that I needed to call my insurance to have them fax the referral approval to the new specialist's office.  I called insurance.  They don't do that.  They said they do things electronically and that I would have to call the PCP's office to get that done.  I called the PCP's office and they said they are doing it.  I will call back to the new specialist's office to confirm that they have it on Monday.  Good Lord!  Finally, all my ducks are in a row.  Thank you ducks.  Thank you for finally lining up even though getting you there was more difficult than herding cats.  Don't ask where I got that comparison from.  It's been a long week.  At least I'm done waiting :)

Warning: May Contain Nuts

I just finished breakfast.  It was good.  It was this cereal that I had bought a week or so ago.  Its called "Nutty Nuggets".  Its the Kroger brand of "Grape Nuts".  The thing that strikes me as so funny about this cereal is that there are no nuts in it.  New Nutty Nuggets - does not contain actual nuts.  Lol!  I guess its a good thing considering if it had nuts in it I would most likely be on my way to the ER due to an allergic reaction.  But it got me thinking, in today's world, nothing is guaranteed to be what it actually claims to be.  Last night I was talking to a girl that I met on a social networking site.  She seemed nice enough but as we talked her story was a bit fishy.  Things just weren't adding up.  Then, I got a message from another friend warning me that the same girl with the same stunningly beautiful pictures and some of the same information had been a friend of hers previously and turned out to be some dude.  So unfortunately after a little more talking and a little more suspicion (and her trying to "surprise me" by guessing my phone number after googling me - don't worry, she got it wrong), I unfriended this "girl".  She kept sending me messages asking why I did it so in the end I had to block her from my account completely.  I felt bad but at the same time I felt stupid and violated.  If she was a dude (and a foreign dude at that - "she" said she was "not well versed in the internet" - who talks like that in America?), how are you supposed to know?  And if she was legit, she lost out because of people who pose as someone they are not and cause us all to be suspicious of each other.  We are all way more vulnerable than we know out there in cyberland.  Hubby said I was right to do what I did.  He said (and I believe him due to the field of work he is in) that not only do creepers and pedophiles lurk out there on the social networking sites but also terrorists looking to get any information they can.  All it takes is an email address and some fake pictures.  Easy peasy lemon-squeezy!  It is a scary world we live in I tell you.  Maybe I should set my own account to the restrictive privacy settings that I have on my daughter's account.  There may be no nuts in my cereal but that's just because they are all on the social networking sites!

Grow Up Already

I hate bullies.  You'd think that I mean the type of bully who pushes other kids down on the playground.  While I do indeed hate that type of bully too, I'm talking about adult bullies.  When you're growing up and you encounter bullies you can't wait to be an adult but what you don't realize is that there are bullies in the adult world too.  They are much more manipulative than the sort of physical abuse that young bullies resort to.  Instead they will use their words and their passive aggressive tactics to reign supreme over others.  I encountered one of these such bullies today.  I had sent her an email telling her that she couldn't have what she wanted and within ten minutes my phone rang.  She was overbearing and aggressive.  I tried to stand my ground while she tried to get information she wasn't entitled to.  I hung up the phone wondering what just happened.  I was now following her instructions instead of those I was hired to follow.  She wanted me doing things that were not my job and I was miffed.  After calling my boss and venting for a few minutes, I found a way to turn the situation around so she would be following our rules.  The thing is how many people would have just gone and done everything she asked for to avoid further conflict.  That shouldn't happen.  It's the adult equivalent of being pushed down on the playground.  If you work or play with an adult bully, don't take their crap.  Stand up for yourself no matter how hard it may be.  If they are making your life miserable, who knows how many other people feel the same way.  Adult bullies need to be stopped as well.  The first step is recognizing them.  Once you recognize them, it will be much easier to remind them that you too have a life, you too have responsibilities, and you too are worth something.  You are not just there for their ribbing and exploitation.  If you are doing the work and not getting the credit, speak up.  If you feel pushed around and unheard, speak up.  Don't let the bullies get the best of you.  Be a good example to the youth of today.  Don't be a bully.  The sad thing is my bully today is an official in an organization shaping the youth of today into the leaders of tomorrow. 

I See London, I See France

I worry about our budget.  I also worry about losing weight.  So eating out at a Mexican restaurant is not the best idea I've ever come up with.  Little did I know that these two things would be the least of my worries.  We all piled in the car on what was a tremendously gorgeous day and headed to the local Mexican restaurant.  The sun was shining and there was a warm breeze blowing.  You couldn't have asked for a nicer day.  We arrived at the restaurant and parked our car.  I opened the car door as the wind picked up and . . . well . . . my skirt blew up somewhere around shoulder height.  There was nowhere to hide.  Luckily the restaurant has few windows and nobody inside saw.  Luckily there was nobody in the parking lot to see.  Unluckily, the restaurant is on the busiest streets in the entire city.  I tried my best to get control of the . . . um . . . situation but was only successful in holding down the front of my skirt.  Meanwhile, Hubby, in an effort to help me, I think, was rapidly poking me in the ass with his car keys.  He later claimed that he was trying to get the skirt down but it really felt like I was being assaulted.  I sat down and waited for the wind to die down and when it appeared to, I stood up again.  The key words there being "appeared to".  In fact it had not died down at all and the traffic whizzing by got a nice shot of my purple undies.  As a reflex, I again held down the front of the skirt and pressed my backside against the car to block the view.  Yeah, cars have windows about butt height.  So now I was basically panty-mooning everyone through my car door.  I finally was able to get things under control and walked bent in half holding my skirt with both hands into the restaurant.  It's ok.  Go ahead.  Laugh. 
The moral of the story:  Don't go out for Mexican on a Thurday :)

Another One Bites the Dust . . . and . . . Another . . . and . . . Well . . . You Can See Where This is Going

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!  Now that the lovey-dovey stuff is out of the way, let's get on with this. 

After reading our front-runners background information on Wednesday, we are still interested in her.  I called her worker Thursday morning and afternoon leaving messages both times.

We had our meeting on Friday with another county's social services agency.  It went condially.  We went.  It was pointed out to us why we would not be a good match.  My faults were pointed out.  Just mine.  We requested more information about the girl.  We never got it.  We decided that she is not the girl for us and they are not the agency we want to work with.  Oh well, officially cross another one off of the list.  Meanwhile, we waited for a call back from front-runners worker.  I left two more messages that afternoon.

The weekend passed.  Our daughter had two winter guard competitions and personally did well.  As for the group, not so much.  Let's just say they have yet to crack the top three places.  We are holding out hope for their big trip next weekend out of state.  All weekend we tried to put it out of our minds because we knew there was no reason for us to even hope that she would call till Monday.

And so we arrive here at Monday.  I have called twice already and gotten her voicemail which says she will be out the 10th of February and will return calls the next day.  I didn't leave another message because I don't want to appear stalker-creepy.  I know they are busy but we are waiting.  That child is waiting.  So much hangs in the balance.  This morning there was a placement meeting for one of the other girls we had inquired about.  They determined they cannot place her with us because of her special needs and my anxiety and prescribed medication.  What is that supposed to mean?  Oh heck no, I don't feel discriminated against because of my "disability".  No worries.  I won't spend the afternoon trying to feel like its not my fault that we aren't being considered.  I wonder if Hubby was adopting on his own if he'd have a child by now?  Seriously.  Oh well, officially cross another one off the list.  So I wait.  Anxiously.  When I'm done posting this, I will send an email to our front-runner's worker.  Maybe we'll get through that way.  In the meantime I'll feel like crap because I am obviously a big part of the reason why they won't place a child with us. 

This process is excruciating.

Fit . . . Fat . . . What's One Little Vowel?

I hate to use the word hate so I will start off by saying I have a strong dislike for my birthday gift from last year.  I requested (well, more like begged for it) and received a Wii Fit plus to go with our Wii.  This was going to make me healthy.  This was going to get me active.  This has done nothing but lower my self-esteem.  I no longer refer to it as the Wii Fit.  I call it the Wii Fat because that's what it calls me every time I get on it.  It does some measurements and calculations and basically tells me I'm obese.  What do I mean basically, I mean literally.  The machine makes my little avatar plump up and says "You're obese".  Oh yeah, this sounds like fun.  I wanna go first - not.  There is nothing about this activity that makes me want to participate.  I'm just waiting for the day that I step on and it tells me to please step back off because I'm too heavy.  There is nothing motivating about a computer humiliating you repeatedly.  Its upsetting.  So what's a girl to do.  My big plan of choreographing an exercise routine has fallen through.  I tried a website called FitDay where you enter what you've eaten and your activity to help you burn more calories than you input.  That lasted all of three days.  I have a lot to do in my life and it just so happens that most of it has to be done sitting down.  I can't finish stitching the blanket for my brother's baby while jogging.  I can't write a letter while jumping rope.  The problem here is, and I'm sure many of you can relate to this, I just can't find the time to exercise.  I guess I have to schedule it in and commit to doing it.  I am a stubborn, competitive girl.  I can do this.  (I think I already made this promise in a previous post.)  I can prove the Wii Fat wrong.  I think I'll start . . . maybe tomorrow.  Yeah, I'll start tomorrow . . . or the next day at the latest but definitely at the latest.  :)

Under the Microscope

I feel defeated.  I finally heard from our case worker and now we have to go for an interview at the other county's social services office.  Its not that I mind the drive.  Its not that I mind answering their questions.  The thing is I don't know what more I can say than what is in our homestudy.  If they don't want us, then eliminate us.  Simple as that.  Just more hoops to jump through.  I'm tired of jumping through hoops.  I'm tired of making phone calls.  I'm tired of shopping for kids online.  I'm tired of leaving messages.  I'm tired of sending emails.  I'm just tired.  This is the first time I have really felt like throwing in the towel.  I don't want to go there and argue and defend myself as to why I would make a great parent.  I have a happy, healthy, well-adjusted sixteen year old daughter.  Can you get much more proof than that?  And all this when I don't even know in my gut if this is the right girl for us or not.  Its like they want a sure thing before they give us the ok.  How can they get a sure thing when we have nothing to go on?  We haven't seen here background information.  We haven't seen her history.  We haven't met the child but its like they want to know that the whole adoption will go smoothly before they go any further.  And in the meantime, they demean us and our case worker.  They question everything that we do.  Every choice that we make.  How do you not take that personally?  They grilled our case worker to the point where she became frustrated.  I have just convinced myself through much therapy that you can't control the "what ifs" in life.  But now I'm going to have to answer all of their "what ifs".  I don't want to play that game.  Its one thing to try to promote yourself and your family through this process.  Its an entire other beast to have to defend yourself and your family which is what I feel we're are about to face.  I have a happy family and a good life and I thought sharing that with another child would be a great thing.  Maybe not.  Trying to keep my spirits up is extremely difficult.  I can feel the depression is looming.  Where's my medication?

Insuring a Perfect Holiday

Dear Nationwide Insurance,

I would like to thank you for covering the recent copper pipe theft we experienced in the house which we are trying to sell.  You handled our claim swiftly even promising us that we were paying too much and adjusting our policy.  We appreciate all you have done for us including opening our eyes to your ridiculous practices and idiotic procedures.  Not being able to talk to an actual person at your office has been a true delight.  There is nothing I enjoy more than pushing buttons trying to get a real person.  Your front office staff has been remarkably unhelpful.  It seems they really excel at taking customers money and, if they are calling for any other reason, making sure they get disconnected.  I myself got to experience this wonderful skill during three consecutive phone calls - all within a fifteen minute span.  Now that's talent.  But most of all I would like to thank you for the wonderful Christmas greeting that arrived in our post box yesterday.  Most Christmas mail simply says "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays" but no, you went with the much more original "We sincerely regret we are unable to continue your Homeowner insurance protection at this time".  Wow.  Never has a more eloquent Christmas greeting been uttered.  What an amazing gift - adjusting our policy so that our payments will be zero.  I hope you all had a magnificent Christmas break of four and a half days out of the office.  Nothing beats spending time with family especially when you drive together to your agent's office to find it dark and vacant.  Your holiday spirit in unmatched and your new year will be prosperous, without you even having to do anything to deserve it.  Thank you for making this a craptastic Christmas for me and my family.

Sincerely,
quirky me

Christmas Krogering

This Saturday is Christmas and yesterday I had to go to the grocery store.  I would have rather licked the parking lot pavement than gone into the actual Krogers but it had to be done.  I hadn't bought anything for Christmas dinner, Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas baking or, well anything food-like remotely related to Christmas.  Not to mention the usual milk and bread staples.  I was amazed at the lack of courtesy that was on display within the super mega-sized store.  I should have known not to expect much but I wasn't prepared for what I encountered.  People were acting like they were the only ones in the store - blocking aisles, grabbing items, crashing carts and generally being obnoxious.  It was like a pack of rogue monkeys was let loose in the store.  I thought maybe since its Christmas everyone will be filled with the Christmas spirit.  Apparently they checked their Christmas spirit at the door because no such luck.  I followed one lady (because there wasn't space to get around her) for at least five minutes as she strolled along at a snail's pace just to have her decide at the end of the aisle that she needed to suddenly do a 180 and hit into my cart at which point she looked at me like I suddenly jumped in HER way.  It took a total of an hour and a half to get through the store and I left without some of the things that I needed (their stock was well picked over).  And the wonderful Christmas carols that we all love just add to the aggrivation.  I really enjoy the carols when I am shopping but not in those kinds of crowds.  One cannot be calmed by "Joy to the World" when there is no joy in your world because someone just snaked the last pouch of sugar cookie mix as you reached for it.  I should have known better than to try to go to a store this close to Christmas.  This is why I shop for my gifts in September.  Too bad food expires.  Oh well, at least I don't have to go to the Wal-mart this week.

I'm Gettin' Nothin' for Christmas

So.  We live in Suburbia but we own a house we are trying to sell/rent in Next Town Over.  Ok.  Whoever it was that stole all of the copper pipes out of our house in Next Town Over - YOU SUCK!  Thanks for leaving our basement a wet mess with no plumbing.  All for a couple hundred dollars most likely to support your stinkin' drug habit while it will cost us a few thousand of our hard earned money to repair.  Now, trip to Hometown for Thanksgiving - cancelled.  Upcoming weekend vacation - cancelled.  Thanks Mr. Copper Pipe Stealin' Meth Head!  Way to ruin our holiday season!  I hope you enjoy your fix while we deal with the police and the insurance adjustors and trying to come up with the money to replace all that you stole.  If the insurance adjustor finds it in his heart or his insurance guy handbook to help us out, it will cost us at least $500.  Who has an extra $500 laying around in November/December?  Not me, I can tell you that much.  I sure hope you have fun with your . . . no wait OUR money.  How are we supposed to sell a house with no indoor plumbing huh?  I can see our realtor now - its a lovely three bedroom with a shed converted into an outhouse.  Nice.  I'm sure we'll get top dollar for that Mr. Taking Stuff That Doesn't Belong To You Most Likely In Broad Daylight.  You already hit a friend of ours house here in Suburbia, did you have to hit our house too?  It's costing them $5000 to undo what you did.  $5000.  Five . . . thousand.  How am I supposed to come up with that AND have a decent Christmas?  Suburbia police were optimistic that they will catch you.  Unfortunately our house is in Next Town Over where the men in blue barely seemed to care.  Makes me glad I don't actually live in Next Town Over.  Oh, and if you plan on coming back, don't bother.  I'm not fixing it with copper just so you can come back and leave me high and dry again.  I hope you rot in hell!

Top Ten Things I Learned This Weekend

10.  My best girl friend is tops.  She is my Yoda.
9.  You can make your own buffalo chicken salad at LaRosa's restaurant. 
8.  Factory Card Outlet is the slowest store at putting up their Christmas items. 
7.  My father-in-law is tops.  I owe him some boneless buffalo wings.
6.  Apparently, winter style is layering camis until you are warm enough. 
5.  It is possible to feel your heart breaking. 
4.  My hubby is tops.  He's better than pizza with extra cheese.
3.  Don't do anything with anybody.  Do it by yourself.  Rely only on you.
2.  There is a point were even I wish I hadn't worn sandals.
1.  Always Always Always start every phone conversation with "Am I on speaker?"

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Hello.  You have reached my blog.  My blog operates 24/7, 365 days a year.  If you are calling during this time, please pay attention as our options have changed.  If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.  Press 1 if you would like to read my blog.  Press 2 if you would like to comment on my blog.  Press 3 for the location of my blog.  Press 4 if you would like to speak to a receptionist to make an appointment with my blog.  Press 5 if all of the above apply to you.  Press 6 if none of the above apply to you.  Press 7 if you are blond.  Press 8 if you speak english.  Press 9 if you are under 5'9".  Press 0 to reach the operator or simply stay on the line.  -click-  buzzzzzzz . . .  -  Can you believe something very, very similar to this is what I heard today when I called, of all places, the doctor's office?  I expect this when I call a school, a hospital, or Walmart, but the doctor.  Come on!  When you are sick, the last thing you want to do is push buttons trying to reach an actual live human being.  Luckily, I was not the sick one and had a small amount of patience which was quickly eroded by this wonder of automation.  All I wanted was an appointment.  If I wasn't getting disconnected, I was being rerouted back to the main menu or, even more frustrating, sent to the receptionist's voice mail.  She's the receptionist.  Her job is to ANSWER the phone.  Webster's defines the position as "one employed to greet callers".  What in God's name does a person that has the job of ANSWERING the phone need with voice mail?  What ever happened to answering the phone and putting the person on hold?  At least that way, you can hope they will return and talk to you.  Or even the dreaded busy signal, a thing of the past, would be more welcome than the receptionist's voice mail.  After twenty minutes of pushing button and starting over again, I finally reached someone who transfered me to the receptionist and made sure she would take my call.  I guess she was the receptionist to the receptionist.  I don't know.  All I know is my daughter was hacking up a lung beside me as I journeyed through the seven levels of automated hell.  But in the end, I got the appointment, she got the antibiotics and we got the heck out of there before I got sick and had to start calling all over again.

Excuse Me, Brittany, Could You Pass the Breadsticks?

And on a lighter note - Yesterday, we went out to dinner.  A last hoorah before we begin our self-imposed Five Weeks to Financial Betterification.  We do this.  We find ridiculous reasons to justify eating out: buying a new car, getting a good report card, starting a diet, or in this case, cutting ourselves off from wreckless spending.  But all of that will change with our Five Weeks to Financial Betterification plan (details soon to follow).  Anyway, we went to the Olive Garden to celebrate the ending of The Never-Ending Pasta Bowl (ah, the irony).  We no sooner got seated in the restaurant than we noticed the staff rearranging numerous tables in our room.  Great, a large party will be joining us.  And not just any old large party, we were lucky enough to get a party of teens on their way to the homecoming dance.  Oh, the joy.  They got seated and reseated and changed seats one more time.  All the while their tacky expensive dresses just skimming our table.  Who knew the Madonna look was making a come back?  The Olive Garden is not a small restaurant but apparently with teenagers their is no such thing as personal space unless its their own.  It started off well enough but then the volume level raised.  We had to shout to each other to be heard and of course, the moment we shout is the moment they pause making us look like "the loud talkers."  Then another table of classmates arrived and the inter-table conversations began.  Wait, it gets better.  Then came the pictures.  Sometime in the near future there will be pictures, most likely all over facebook, and I will be in the background in the numerous stages of pasta eating.  Now I know what Lindsey Lohan feels like . . . no wait . . . I was sober.  Now I know what Paris Hilton feels like.  I was living the Lady Ga Ga song "Paparazzi".  All in all a perfectly good evening was turned into a rushed gobbling of angel hair, eye rolling and trying to look unaware of the camera without looking stupid.  My hubby came up with a great idea.  There should be a database.  It should list all of the local high school activities where the children dress up and pretend to be adults.  Then we would know not to go out on those days.  They could even link it to the restaurant websites.  Easy access.  So next time you see me, you may be surprised.  Who knows where I'll pop up in a photo or what kind of pasta I'll be eating.  Thank God we're cutting ourselves off.  Why couldn't we have done it one day sooner?