Observations: Princess on Shrek v. Daddy

Scene: Princess and Deb are cuddled on the couch, watching Shrek 3 on television.

Princess: Mommy, did you see that?  Shrek wouldn't get out of bed!

Deb: I saw that.

Princess: He just pulled the covers up and went back to sleep!

Deb: Yes.

Princess: Daddy does that.

Deb: Yes, he does.

Princess: And Daddy has funny feet like Shrek, too.

Deb: I suppose you could say that.

Princess: And daddy thinks it's funny when something stinks, just like Shrek.

Deb: Well, I guess-

Princess: And you remember when Shrek sat in the mud, and all the bubbles came up, because-

Deb: Yes, sweetie, I know.  Shrek and your daddy are a lot alike.

Princess: Yes.  But daddy's not green, Mommy.

Deb: No, he's not.

Princess: And we don't live in a swamp, we live in a house.

Deb: Yep.

Princess: But Daddy loves you like Shrek loves Fiona.

Deb: Yes, he does.

Princess: You and Daddy love each other and you love me and Dexy because we are a family.

Deb: Yes, sweetie.

Princess: (thoughtful pause)

Deb: What is it, honey?

Princess: Why do Daddy's feet look like that?

Fin.

Five Things I Love About Twitter

Like every decent red-blooded rip-snorting moose-shooting American, I love taking cues for my life from the media.  That has not always been the case.  Due to my arrogant ignorance of media culture in the past, I missed out on MySpace entirely, which I'm sure has consequences I have not yet realized but will ultimately be devastating to me and my family.  I was not going to miss out on the next media-hyped internet craze.

So, following the instructions of Robin Roberts and Ryan Seacrest, my two main sources of news, several months ago I logged on to Twitter.  Just as is the case with everything else I have ever done at the behest of the people in the magic box that sits on my dresser, it has been the best decision I ever made.

Here are my five favorite things about Twitter.

1. Celebrities.  Celebrities use Twitter just like regular people, so once you find them, you can follow them, send them messages, look at their pictures, etc. unless they specifically block you.  Thanks to Twitter, I know that Russell Brand looks good in a wedding dress, and that Neil Patrick Harris is directing a production of Rent in LA, in which he just cast Vanessa Hudgens as Mimi.  (Mom, I'll explain all of that later.)  Of course, E! News told me the same thing later that day, but I already knew it, because I'm on Twitter.

I personally follow a wide range of celebrities, some of whom are actually famous, like Pink and Ben Stiller.  Matthew Perry tweets every week after Lost, but not much else.  I follow Demi and Ashton, as required by law, but don't pay much attention to them, as they send a lot of tweets about socially relevant topics like slavery and famine, and I simply don't have time for that.  On the other hand, Demi was the one who filled me in about Soleil Moon-Frye's birthday party, so it hasn't been a total waste.

2. Trending Topics.  On Twitter, the mysterious giant birds that oversee us all keep track of what keywords are being used more than any other.  These are then listed on the sidebar as "trending topics."  You can choose to see what is trending worldwide, or what is just trending in your area.  As of right now, as I write this entry, here are some of the trending topics:

Now Playing, You Remember, U Know Times Are Hard, Justin Bieber.

This is why I don't watch the news anymore.  I don't have to.  I only check the news when Twitter reports a celebrity has died, because there have been several Twitter Hoaxes in which one person jokingly tweets that a celebrity is dead, and then it gets re-tweeted until people believe it.  Thankfully, the world's greatest living actor, Jeff Goldblum, is still alive, despite numerous Twitterian attempts to change his status from Living to Non-Living.

3. Twitter Personas.  My favorite Twitter Persona is Laura Ingalls Wilder, whose Twitter name is @HalfPintIngalls.  Her tweets include the following gems:

1. Remind me not to sleep in my corset.  Last night I dreamt I was a half-pint half-full of sausage.
2. Hey Almanzo, if you liked it then you should have built a shanty on it!
   
3. 
   
   (Some folks don't approve of "The Wandering Womb Monologues" but I think it's healthy to talk about our hysterical paroxysms!)

I'm thinking of starting a Twitter account for my alter-ego, who shall remain nameless at this time, but suffice to say, her Tweets would be all about Justin Bieber.  And cats.

4. Literary Challenge.  I love that you only get 140 characters.  As readers of my extensive oeuvre can attest, I love words.  The more complex the word choice, the better.  This makes my writing become a bit abstruse at times, even obscuring important plot and character points with needless vocabularic complication.  On Twitter, you get 140 characters, including spaces.  Thus, this:

      "I am adrift in my own malaise today; it is as though a cloud has obscured the sunshine of my hopes and dreams and left me stranded on the isle of ennui."

becomes this:

     "I am SO BORED! #bored"

This sort of limitation is good for the soul.

5. Stalking.  I have made it my mission to compel as many celebrities as possible to reply to me on Twitter.  I do this by shameless flattering, which I think works better than the provocative insult.  So far I have reaped wonderful rewards:

Me: @PaulFTompkins You are dapper.  Also natty.
PaulFTompkins: @Kaydeb Agreed.

Score!  I'm going after Dr. Drew next.

Advice

I have determined, after nearly 17 minutes of reflection, that I would be an awesome advice columnist.

People are always coming to me and saying,   "Hey, can you help me?"  Sometimes they only say it with their eyes, but the intent is clear.  Because I am that kind of person, I never let someone's shyness keep me from giving them what they clearly want from me: expertise and wisdom.

Perhaps because of the psychic connection my readers feel with me, several of them have already begun sending in letters asking for advice.  Here, then, is the first installment of the Folksy Folks Helping Folks Advice Column Blog.  (I'm thinking of shortening the name.)

Dear Folksy Deb,

I am an attractive, eligible man in my late 30's who hasn't found love.  By "attractive," I mean that I have long hair around the edges but nothing on top, but I wear colorful bandanas that I think have everyone completely fooled.  By "eligible," I mean that I have, personally, rented a bus.  By "late 30's," I mean "pushing 50."  I have tried to find Ms. Right by starring in several seasons of a reality show in which I choose several tattooed and scantily clad current and former "dancers" and pretend I like some of them.  What am I doing wrong?

Sincerely,

Dear Penicillin Consumer,

I have watched your show, and as far as I can tell you are a completely sincere, emotionally vulnerable, culturally relevant superstar.  It's not your fault the girls go wild when you walk through a door!  I have three words that express your problem: location, location, location.  You've tried finding love in a house, and then in a bus, so I suggest next time you try a luxury yacht, or perhaps a double-wide trailer you can set up behind your parents' house.  Perhaps a different time slot.

Deb.

Dear Deb,

I used to be a reasonably attractive but shrewish television personality who offended humanity with my very presence.  Knowing that my television show is coming to an end and facing nothing more than a life of being married to the stupidest man alive, I decided to up my notoriety by getting extensive plastic surgery for no real reason.  While I still look vaguely human, I can no longer perform basic human functions like crying or giving meaningful looks while club music plays in in the background.  What kind of future is there for me?

Thanks,

Dear Unrecognizable Until You Start Talking:

Fear not.  That crazy cat lady can't live forever!  You should make a lucrative living starring on such shows as "World's Craziest Plastic Surgeries" or "Ten Biggest Celebrity Mistakes."  Please pass on my love to your dear husband, unless you think that would make him start hooting uncontrollably, in which case please simply blink in his direction and think of me.

Deb

Dear Deb,

I am one of the world's most wealthy and successful entertainers.  I am an Oscar-nominated actor, a producer, and I host a television show that is viewed as a major religion in several countries.  I have single-handedly made and broken authors, actors, and musicians.  I have a successful magazine and appear on the cover of every issue.  I am not married but enjoy a long-term relationship, I have a wonderful best friend, and no children.  I am ending my television show soon, and want to know what I should do next.

Sincerely,

Dear Overachiever,

Here's what you do: in your last week of shows, you do a show about Blog Life and feature several amateur bloggers.  If it will help you, I will gladly volunteer to be featured on that show.  After that, you will sign a publishing deal with at least one of the bloggers featured (again, happy to serve) giving that blogger a three-book deal.

You're welcome,

Deb

Dearest Deb,

I'm considering retirement, but have not yet found someone who can take over my job.  It is rather an important one, and no one who has applied is quite up to my standards.  Might you know of someone who is interested in relocation and an exciting new career?

Hopefully,

Dear Your Majesty,

I'm pretty sure I know of someone who would be perfect for the job.

Deb

Random Confessions

Confession: I don't care for Michael Buble.  I know I'm supposed to like him, but the truth is, I don't trust anyone who was born after 1970 but claims to be "nostalgic" for the 1940's.

*******

Confession: I love real butter.  Salted real butter.  Salted, ORGANIC real butter.  I have been known to bake a tube of pre-made biscuits and consume at least a half a stick of butter with those biscuits over the course of a day.  (Okay, it was yesterday.)

*******

Confession: I cried when I read about Jesse James cheating on Sandra Bullock.  I really thought they were the real deal.

*******

Confession: I think tattoos make a person look unprofessional, unless the tattoos are on the face.  Then the person just looks insane.

********

Confession: I talk to myself, and occasionally say things that really surprise me.

*********

Confession: I have never dusted anything voluntarily.  When I was younger, I was firmly convinced that dusting accomplished nothing, and I have not changed that view.

**********

Confession: Chocolate icing is wasted on cake.  Straight from the tub is the way to go.

**********

Confession: When I learn that a celebrity has undergone cosmetic surgery, I think less of that person.

***********

Confession: My inner monologue swears a lot.

***********

Confession: I judge any celebrity or politician based on their performance on Saturday Night Live.  I still don't like Michael Buble, but the sketch he did with Jon Hamm entitled "Hamm and Buble" was hilarious.  I am now lukewarm on the Bubs.

That is all.

Spring Break in the Valley of the Dinosaurs

Little known fact: dinosaurs once lived in Texas.  And I don't mean H. Ross Perot.

No, I mean actual, real dinosaurs.  They roamed freely throughout the Texas Hill Country, presumably until hipsters opened too many coffee bars and they became extinct.  Fortunately, Dinosaur Valley State Park in beautiful Glen Rose, Texas, memorializes this lost time in history for those with patience and a full tank of gas.

Here is Princess sitting in the fossilized footprint of a Sauropod, the class of dinosaurs that include Brontosaurus.

Here are Sven and Princess crossing the river to see more fossilized dino prints.

 Here is Dexy, sitting with me with his feet in the water.  That's as far as I got.

After exhausting ourselves at Dinosaur Valley State Park, we visited Dino World, which features hundreds of life-size models of dinosaurs on an outdoor path.

Welcome to Dino World!

 I don't trust that one, Mommy.

Run! Quick! I don't want to end up like Newman!

 You guys are funny.

 And we're done.  Home again, now!

Unfortunately, pictures cannot capture the way Dexy ran from dinosaur to dinosaur, screaming in fright when he saw each new one, but saying, "Bye, Dinosaur!" in a very friendly way when we moved on.

Neither can pictures capture the elaborate narrative Princess crafted, in which each dinosaur we approached told us, "You will not pass!" and then she would say, "Yes, but I am Princess, and I am a friend to all the unicorns!  You must let me pass!"  And then they would have a conversation about all of their mutual acquaintances, and we would leave as soon as the dinosaur had told Princess how beautiful she is.

It runs in the family.

Truth, Lies, and Burgers

Scene: Deb's car, after day care.

Players:

• Deb, a ravishingly beautiful yet understated working mom who manages to juggle home, family, work, and church without letting it show (other than that pesky facial tic and a nagging tendency to laugh wildly to fill silence), 23*
• Princess, Deb's adorable daughter, 4
• Dexy, Deb's impish son (non-speaking role), 2

Princess: Mommy, I have to talk to you about something serious.

Deb: What is it, my baby?

Princess: If you tell someone you are going to do something, and you don't do it, that's a lie.

Deb: That's right.

Princess: If you tell someone you are going to do something, then you should do it, because if you don't, that's a lie, and you're a LIAR.

Deb: Yes, honey.

Princess: And I don't trust liars, because sometimes liars will tell you that you're going to get something, and then you don't get it, and they lied to you, and you can't trust them anymore.

Deb: What happened, honey?

Princess:  Someone lied to me.

Deb: Who?

Princess: Someone who I trusted to do something good and nice, but they lied to me and I don't trust them.

Deb: What are you talking about, sweetie?

Princess:  If I say I want a hamburger, and they say I'm going to get a hamburger, and they give me chicken, then they lied to me.

Deb: What-

Princess: And then when they tell me, "You're going to get a cookie," and then they don't give me a cookie, I can't trust them.

Deb: Huh?

Princess: And not just me...they lied to DADDY.  Which is the worst thing of all.

Deb: Princess, what are you talking about?

Princess: We can't go to Whataburger anymore. They are liars who I don't trust who lied to me and gave me CHICKEN.

Deb: We haven't been to Whataburger in two weeks.

Princess: Because they are LIARS.

Deb: Okay, no more Whataburger.

Princess: Let's go to McDonald's.

Fin.

*32**

**35

Hanging on

I have a cold, again.  I'm coughing and not sleeping well and living on a constant diet of Fruit Breezers and water.  Time to count blessings.

1. Conan O'Brien has started a wonderful running joke on Twitter involving Justin Bieber.

2. Kevin Federline had a really important breakthrough on Celebrity Fit Club this week.

3. That horribly obnoxious girl on Sober House has been kicked out for punching a cameraman (on-camera!).

4. Lost continues to confound me, in a wonderful way.

5. Bret Michaels' bandana is getting its own show on VH-1, "Baldness Camouflage of Love," in which it must choose between 17 handkerchiefs to find its true love.  (Not really, but it's a great show inside my head.)

6. The guy on Tool Academy who cries all the time is still there.

7. Sven has not, to my knowledge, had an affair with a tattoo model with the nickname "Bombshell" who claims to have been "raised Amish."

8. New Moon: The Movie has been released on home video, which has proved to be a surprisingly effective sleep-aid.  Seriously, I can't stay awake through it, and I loved it in the theater.  Sigh.

9. The Princess and the Frog was surprisingly watchable.

10. Dexy has learned several new words and phrases, most of which I find encouraging rather than alarming: "Fire, again, dinosaur, one more time, help, knife, purse."  He also puts on Princess' shoes, grabs one of her play purses and hoists in onto his shoulder, puts on a pair of my sunglasses, and shouts "Bye, Mommy!" before tromping his way to the door, pausing, then announcing, "I'm back!"

Awesome.  I already feel better.

Living On The Line

Oh, how I adore teh interwebz.  (That's "the internet" to those of you who are LOL-deficient.)  I have found several ways to make modern technology work for me, in terms of wasting time.

(For the record, I in no way consider blogging to be a waste of time, so that is definitely not on the list.  Anything that makes me think this hard is not a waste of time.)

Yesterday I took Sven to an appointment with a "pain management" doctor.  Finally, I thought, we were going to get some answers about his chronic back pain, maybe even some relief!  Instead, we experienced a cruel irony: we did paperwork for over an hour, waited another hour, got into the office at 3:15 for our 2:30 appointment, sat back with a nurse answering questions we had just spent over an hour answering, all to have the doctor come in at 3:45 and announce that he wouldn't have time to do Sven's appointment, but they would call that afternoon and schedule a new one.  (For the record, it is almost 9:00 a.m. the next day, and they still haven't called.  If they haven't called before I finish this entry, there will be Deb to pay.)

So, by my reckoning, we spent nearly 4 hours (including driving time) with this doctor in what turned out to be a colossal waste of time.  Here, in order, is how I could have spent those 4 hours far more productively:

1. iPod Apps: I have several, including TapWord, My Town, Sudoku, Ask the Hoff, and Flashlight, but my favorite has to be Tap Fish: This is an app on my iPod that allows me to feed, breed, buy, sell, and flush virtual fish.  They die if I don't check in every so often.  (One can revive the fish for coins, just like in real life!)

2. Island Paradise: This has to be my all-time favorite waste of time online.  I can spend hours and several REAL dollars updating and rearranging my personal island, accessed via Facebook.  Here is a recent photo:

I'm so proud.

3. Happy Island and Happy Aquarium: These Facebook Apps cannot suck up as much time as Island Paradise, but they each require me to check in a few times a day to get the maximum benefit.  I have, thus far, resisted spending any real money on either of these, though Happy Island now boasts a Lost-style foot statue that I simply must have.

4. Kindle: Also on my iPod is my Kindle app, which lets me purchase and download Kindle books and read them on my iPod.  I love this, particularly downloading free books.  I've paid for a couple, but the majority of my library is free books.  For the record, I have yet to actually read an entire book on my Kindle, but I'm about halfway through Bram Stoker's Dracula.  (The book, not the completely awesome terrible 1992 film starring Gary Oldman and Winona "I Had A Future" Ryder, not to mention Keanu Reeves boasting a "British" accent.  Now I'm inspired to shape my hair into buttocks and drift about in a red housecoat for the rest of the day.  But I digest.)

5. Twitter: I recently coerced Paul F. Tompkins, one of my favorite comedians, to respond to a tweet I sent to him.  His tweet to me: "Agreed."  That's just the encouragement I need to continue cyber-haunting my favorite celebrities, hoping they will respond to me with just as much feeling and consideration as Humanitarian of the Year Paul F. Tompkins.

They still haven't called.