My friend Molly sent me this link. For all of you mommies or daddies who are interested to see what really happens in childbirth. It is a beautiful and touching film (from the parts I have seen). Do not press play if you are expecting 'Knocked Up.'



The Sentient Circle has released a groundbreaking new film aimed at illuminating future parents on the impacts of conscious conception, pregnancy and birth. In this stunningly beautiful feature titled “Birth As We Know It” (1hr, 15 minutes), Director Elena Tonetti-Vladimirova shares her experiences as one of the co-creators of the “Conscious Birth” movement in Russia during the early 1980's. It included a very effective birth preparation program which culminated in summer birth-camps at the Black Sea where women gave birth to their babies in warm shallow lagoons.


The movie features eleven natural births, including home birth, water birth, birth of twins, breech delivery and an astounding self-birth by Tanya Sargunas - a world renouned Spiritual Midwife and pioneer of Conscious Birth in Russia. The midwife community calls this film "the most profound and comprehensive guide to conscious birth in the world", because it delivers a powerful transmission of what it really takes to give birth consciously and gracefully.



Also featured are informative interviews on topics rarely discussed, such as the Sexuality of Childbirth, Circumcision and Limbic Imprinting, and conveys its message in a non-intrusive, wonderfully inspirational way.

''We must pay tribute to Elena for prompting us to re-examine basic features of human nature. Her film explains why millions of women, all over the world, dream of giving birth in the sea, among dolphins,'' said Dr. Michel Odent, author, founder of the Primal Health Research Center in London (UK), and an icon in the world of natural delivery for the past 30 years.




Since 1982 Vladimirova has been involved in teaching her program of preparation for natural delivery and birth trauma release. She has traveled throughout the U.S. teaching ''Birth Into Being'' Workshops that incorporate breathwork, graceful movements and emotional healing that often lead to ecstatic birth experiences for both parents. “The birth itself is the last accord in this fascinating journey of self discovery", says Vladimirova, “After all preparation is accomplished, the delivery of the baby unfolds naturally in all it’s magnificence”.

Vladimirova believes that her documentary offers an opportunity to create a profound shift in the world by showing the significant impact that the conscious birthing experience has on the parents and the newborns. She gently states that, “humans have always had access to the most profound way of healing through bringing new life into this world. We can now reconnect with our source and give birth naturally, the way we, as a species, have always known.”

My great Aunt died this morning. She was my grandma's older sister. When I was little and we lived in Florida she used to drive me around in her car named Jake and we would visit this pink elephant (that I later found out was not real and lived at a mini golf course). Compared to my grandma I always thought she was the mean one. She wasn't really.

As I got older I came to the realization that she just had a hard life. The man she married had a stroke early on and she dedicated the rest of her life taking care of him. I remember her bringing him to family party's and I was always so amazed that she could haul his ass and his wheelchair in and out of her little Chevy.

The last time I saw her was in the winter. She was in & out of crazy. Catcher was there. I will miss her. Although I am sad, I am somewhat comforted knowing that my grandma will have some company at the great gig in the sky.

Thirteen Things I Forgot Happens When I Am Prego

1. The appearance of cellulite on my ass & thighs.
2. The ridiculous heartburn, the ridiculous gas.
3. The super psychotic insane nightmares.
4. Zits on my chest. WTF is that about, I really don't remember those from my first pregnancy.
5. My hair grows hella fast everywhere especially my toes.
6. The massive pain that I get in my abdomen from my big 'ol belly stretching.
7. Me turning into the sappiest, mushiest romantic ever. Thanks hormones!
8. My desire to eat bologna. Real bologna. You sickos.
9. The battle of the names. Loving one, then a better one knocks on my door.
10. Not being able to go to the bathroom.
11. Not being able to not go to the bathroom.
12. My boobs growing to watermelon size.
13. Weird shit coming out of my body any which way possible. (Sorry, TMI)


Really makes you wanna get prego, doesn't it??

13 Things/People That Make Me Insane

1. People who chew with their mouths open.
2. Young Hollywood
3. People who think that success equals the amount of money you have.
4. Cigar smoke.
5. Skinny Bitches. I'm talking Nicole Richie skinny.
6. Potato's skin rash treatment that I have probably spent thousands of dollars on.
7. Liars.
8. The media.
9. The war.
10. Presidential Elections.
11. Abusing wind shield wipers. What I mean is not using them when necessary or using them when it is not raining &/or snowing.
12. Bitten fingernails.
13. Not taking me seriously cause I am a woman.


Happy Summer Solstice Everybody!!

I never knew what low class was until today. My bitch of a cousin had his younger brother call my father and uncle and un-invite them to his wedding. Seriously. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I am appalled and saddened that the state of my family has disintegrated since my grandma has died. My poor grandma, she must be looking down on him with such disappointment.

Why the un-invite, you may ask? Business. That's all. Money. Greed. Possessions. Really Big Boats that cost as much as a house.

My cousin has turned into my greedy uncle in such a short time span sometimes I think it hasn't really happened and he is still the guy who introduced me to Biggie Smalls. Not so. He is a hilljack. Work means more than family. Work is life for him. Blood is no longer thicker than the green.

I mean really, who the hell has their 21 year old brother do their dirty work for them. What a pussy.

I really have so much more I would love to say but I don't want to bore you with all the sordid family past. It's actually quite stupid and boring. Especially when you consider how short life really is.

I guess the one I really feel bad for is his sweet fiancee who doesn't have a clue of how miserable life is about to become.

After moving back to Ohio, the Chef & I decided that I had to work at my dad's business so we could get health insurance. I have been working part time and believe it or not I am OK with it. Some days I absolutely abhor not being with my son, other days I treasure the time apart. Especially now that the boy is acting like a psychopath (terrible two's came a bit early). For the most part I look forward to being a full time stay at home mom again, although I am not quite sure when that will be...especially b/c I will probably be working some nights once Gastropub is open. In any case, I find time to blog at work obviously. I am working right now. And I want to murder my coworker. You see he is 20 years old and I am guessing did not go to high school. Seriously, based on his broken ass English, I am guessing he may have made it to the 8th grade. That still seems to be pushing it.
I am not trying to talk shit. Really I'm not. He is a very very nice kid. Harmless. However he is absolutely horrible at speaking. When I have a customer he comes inside and lounges, right next to the customer, and usually says something completely unrelated or inappropriate. As I was mid convo with a customer, he walks next to her, looks at me and say "I got my leg wet." What the fuck. Whacko. Then an hour later as I am helping another customer, he comes up and says "that burger gave me heartburn.' I am mid sentence with this customer and she looks at me like 'what the hell is this kid talking about.'




UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE

I didn't even get to finish this blog post and the kid got fired. Seriously I think he may have been bipolar. One second he's happy & dumb, the next second he's swearing like he's got terets. He just stormed out of here and totally stole our walkie talkie.

Things have been brewing with the Chef since we moved back to Ohio and yesterday they all boiled over. I knew that he has been unhappy. It's not hard to tell with him. He completely morphs into a different man when he is truly unhappy.

Most of you know the Chef and know what a great man he is. Seriously he is the fucking man. He treats people (all people) better than most people treat their own family. He treats his own family with such respect and dignity that some might think it's all an act. But it's not. He is just, that cool. He loves life and he makes people like me, who are totally cynical, love life just as much as he does. Plus the man can cook. For chrissakes our dogs eat prosciutto and our baby's first food was fennel. That's gotta say something, right?

HOWEVER, when the Chef is unhappy and depressed, the man described above disappears. It's like he reverts into his former stoner self. He's lazy and is passionless. He ignores me. I nag. I ask him to help on one or two things and I find myself asking for 2 weeks. He spends money that we don't have on a $100 tee shirts. He gets wasted with our old psycho renters (who also happen to be our neighbors). What the fuck is that?

I do not like the unhappy Chef. He actually reminds me a lot of one of my (asshole) ex boyfriends who opened a ton of credit cards in my name and forgot to pay them off. Needless to say I now have shitty credit.
I need my Chef to be happy and loving and funny and a participating member of our quaint little (soon to be big) familiga. That is why starting today he must get a new job. Right now he is 'consulting' and by consulting I mean working 40 hours in three days for crap money. Seriously we are living below poverty level right now. But the facts are the facts. The restaurant is going to take at lease 3 months to get going and we are in serious need of some dough. Plus we just bought this sweet ride and let me just say that the car payments are NOT $99/month.

Responsibility sucks. I can't believe somehow I have turned out to be the more responsible person in the relationship. I guess those many many years of not giving a fuck are coming back twofold.

My baby's daddy (aka the Chef aka my husband) is hands down the best father I know (besides my own fajher). This pic pretty much sums up his relationship with our boy. Have I ever mentioned what a lucky bitch I am?

It seems as though disaster week has come to a close. We have had a full 48 hours without anything major happening to us. Praise Jebus!

Disaster Week Continues...

Guess who ended up in the ER yesterday? Yep, that would be me. I am ok just had some mild contractions that took my breath away.

Wonder what freak disaster is on today's menu?

I am getting some serious karma payback this week. Disaster week (as I like to call it) began on my birthday. I woke up sick as hell and spent the entire day in the bathroom. Seriously, eight hours folks. The Chef took the day off work to watch the boy and I wallowed in vomit and misery. Happy birthday to me.

Saturday rolls around and I feel better, not puking, and able to go to work. I went home and went to sleep. The Chef played mommy again and came home from work early to take care of the boy. What a man I married. Gotta love him!

Sunday morning I awaken fresh and new and excited for my big b-day party at the in laws. Fast forward 8 hours and Catcher is projectile vomiting all over the Chef. Poor baby is so sick, he refuses to leave my arms and then later on that night refuses to leave my bed.

We rise on Monday. Everything seems fine. The boy isn't sick. He's happy and he's headed to grandma's while the Chef and I head to some meetings. Our ten o'clock is running late so we both drive over to the Honda dealership to look at their hybrids. I am driving a work minivan because as of now we are a one car family. As we are leaving the dealership, I back up and hit a brand new 2007 CRV. Yes indeed, I hit a parked car. Of course the damage is minimal to my work van and serious on the Honda. Long story short, the damage done is going to costs about $1600. I filled a claim with my insurance, who then proceeded to go after my father's insurance (his biz is the owner of the car). Needless to say he is not a happy camper.

Hello Tuesday! A brand new day and my hubby, super dad decides that he is going to take the boy to the Great Lakes Science Center while I am at work. Everything seems to be all good. I come home from the mines and we all head up to the fabulous High Point pool to get our swim on. We come home, eat dinner, put the boy to bed, and start to watch the Cavs. It's looking like disaster week may be over but WAIT, it's not. Jon starts violently (seriously) puking. It is so gross. You know, having your baby puke is one thing, but having the man you have sex with puking is another. Especially because I really believe that all MEN are super over exaggerators when they are sick. This theory is based on my dad and my husband. When they are sick it is like the world had ended and they were left alone on this planet to roam forever. So, the Chef continues puking, which in turn cause the boy to wake up. It's now midnight. The Cavs lost, the hubby's sick, and the boy wants milk (which of course we are out of).

Today (Wednesday) I woke up at 6 to find every door in my house wide open and my husband sprawled across the living room floor wrapped in our comforter. I rush to get the boy ready and take him to grandma's so he doesn't get the sickness from daddy. I am now at work, sweating balls, trying not to step on any cracks.

Two more days of this shit and disaster week will be coming to a close. Wish us luck.

This was me on my birthday. No I wasn't hungover. Yes, I never left my bathroom.

Best Barfday EVER!

I would definitely have to say I am way more fulfilled being at home with the boy than I am at work. Now that I am back working part time, I feel like I a missing a part of my sons life. I enjoy being at work, sometimes I need the time away but I can tell you that when my day with Catcher rolls around I am a completely different women.
It is nice to get back into our daily routine even though it has changed drastically since the move. I love that he is so calm at the end of our fun filled day and I love that he chills out right before bed. I adore watching him while he sits in his playroom and reads himself books. I love talking him to the pool and seeing him trying so desperately to swim like the big kids (although I can def say I am not a fan of the 'moms'). These are the moments I am missing out on when I am at work and let me tell you each one counts. Each moment that I miss with him is a moment that I cannot get back. I hope soon things will start to come around and I will be able to stay home with him more than two days a week. Whoa. I can't believe I only have two days with him. Hold back those tears, mamma. There's no crying in baseball.

I have calmed down a bit. Thank god. I am so sick of getting so worked up about bullshit. I think I may also be panicking because Friday is my 28th birthday and that just seems so damn old, you know? I'm sure it doesn't help that my belly is already the size of a watermelon and my thighs seem to have enlarged by many many inches.
In other less grody news, we have finally settled on the building where Gastropub is going to be. It is an absolutely amazing building. It was meant to be home to a gastropub. I told my husband, the chef, that even if everyone walked away from this project right now, I would still want to go for it. That is how perfect the space is. Words cannot even begin to express...

Opening a business can take over your life if you let it. I am a passionate person and when I feel strongly about something it's no joke. I am on the fence about my own personal involvement in the opening of my husband's restaurant. Obviously I feel like my voice is subsided b/c of two things:

1. I don't know anything about the restaurant industry other than the fact that my husband works 80+ hours.
2. I am a girl.

I guess I just feel sidelined sometimes. I feel like my breath is wasted and maybe I should just shut the fuck up and concentrate on my own dreams. I mean I want to be involved but sometimes it seems that everything that has been discussed is so far away from the original idea that the two of us came up with. I wonder if I should just sit back and chill out. Why should I get so f'ng stressed out about shit that hasn't even happened yet? I'll tell you why. Because it's not just the Chef's future, it is also the future of my family. And that is what is most important to me.

Plus I am stubborn and strong willed and most of all, I am always right. About everything. Always.

Am I missing something? Do I not understand music? Am I going to have to actually boycott The Simpsons movie because of this? Please, Please, Please Say it Ain't So!

I can't believe how much time has passed since I last posted. So much has been going on that I have had zero free time. The Chef & I just got back from a whirlwind trip to Manhattan. He was catering the Roxy Paine art exhibit in Madison Square Park. It was an event that he had agreed to cater before he left Parea. It was a fantastic event. It went so smoothly and the food was unbelievable (as always).
The menu consisted of:

Braised Lamb Ribs
Raw Milk Pecorino & Raw Fava Beans
Tuna Spinallo
Spring Filo w/ Wild Ramps
Roasted Littleneck Clams w/ Veal Sausage



I was helping at the food table so I got to meet a bunch of art people, which is always fun for me considered my interest in painting and the arts. I met this crazy guy Steve who looked just like Jack Nicholson, he was a total art socialite and decided that he was going to crash the super exclusive VIP after party. He was a riot.
The art itself was so amazing. The pics don't do the sculptures justice. There were three and they were all so connected but so apart.





After the event, we took all of the Parea people who helped with the event to Barbuto, a favorite of the Chef's. There were 8 of us so we decided to order the tasting menu (4 apps, 4 entrees, 2 desserts). Little did we know what we were in for...





As you can see by the gluttonous pictures above being friends with the Chef is always beneficial.



When we got back to the CLE after a 2 hour delayed flight as well as one botched plane landing, we found that the Chef had some press come out for Gastropub in Cleveland as well as in NYC.

Check it out:

Eater

Cleveland Free Times

Cleveland.com



I am getting so excited and less stressed out about the opening of Gastropub. I think I will use this blog as a diary of the opening. I hope it won't be too boring for some of you. I definitely need some kind of outlet while all this craziness is going on so might as well blog, right?

More to come next week.

Can you tell how bored I am????

I am on my way to work this morning and I turn on the local college radio station. What do I hear? One of my absolute favorite songs ever being butchered by Greenday. Honestly, I hear Working Class Hero, a beautiful, passionate song, being sung (terribly) by none other than Billie Joe Armstrong. When I hear John Lennon sing the song I can't help but be overcome with emotion. I can't help but think of his struggles as a child orphan. I can't help but think of how hard it could have been for him to sit down and actually write Working Class Hero. When I hear Billy Joe Armstrong sing the song, all I can think about is how shitty his eyeliner looks.
I am totally turning into, no, actually I am a music snob. I think there are a few rules that need to be followed by the American Idiots of today.

1. Don't cover The Beatles &/or a Beatle.
2. Please don't think your John Lennon. Just because your producer wrote you some pseudo political punk pop song doesn't mean you are even close to being the artist or the man John Lennon was.
3. Don't forget your roots. Your first album was called Dookie, remember????
4. Last but not least, stop selling out. I hate that term but it fits Greenday so well. Hell isn't it the definition of Greenday?

In closing, I offer you the song Working Class Hero. By the real Working Class Hero, Mr. John Lennon. If you want to hear the Crapday version, look it up yourself on YouTube.

Cheers.

As the ultimate celebration of motherhood approaches, I find myself revelling in the fact that I am actually a mother. It is hard for me to believe that the princess of all things party, the backstage butterfly, the self professed gypsy is actually parenting (a doing a damn fine job if I might say so myself) a spirited two year old boy.
Raised by my father while I smoked weed with my mother, I never aspired to be a mom. I never wanted that. My mother had done some things that completely turned me off of the idea. I think our relationship eventually frightened me into believing that if I ever had a child I would treat him or her the same way she treated me. I could not imagine that.
When I found I was expecting the future love of my life, I was scared and selfish. I was having a blast in NYC. I stayed out all night, I ate for free (thanks, Chef), I hung out with c list celebrities (hi jimmy) and rockstars. I didn't want a baby, hell I didn't even know if I wanted a boyfriend. But when it came down to it, something or someone (gma) encouraged my path to change. The road to motherhood would be my next journey.
After an excruciating 48 hours of labor, I knew I had become a completely different woman. I knew from the moment I laid eyes on my son that my purpose in this life was to be a mother. My life had chad changed in that split second and would never be the same again. I had (and still do) an air of confidence that was almost immediately instilled into my soul. I knew from day one that I was a fabulous mother. That may sound cocky or bold but I knew it as true, in fact I still do. The job description molded me into who I am now. I am a woman. I am a wife. I am a goddess. I am a lover. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a mother.
Something inside of me had grown and developed into this instinctual know how. It was like as Catcher grew inside me, the manual of motherhood was memorized into my brain. I felt the part. I wasn't nervous, well maybe a little, but for the most part I knew that I was doing fine. Better than fine.
Today, while Catcher actually naps, I sit and I look back on how I have done as a mother. How do I judge myself? Do I relish in the fact that my son eats vegetables and drinks milk every day, brushes his own teeth and adores Cat Stevens? Should I give myself a pat on the back for this? More often than not, I don't. I skip the celebration of my motherhood because I don't have the time. I am a prego mother of a toddler boy. I don't sit down. I dance. And I love it. I can't wait to do it all over again.

The hubster and I saw the movie 'The Fountain' last night at the big grand opening of the supersize movie theatre in S-ville. We had been wanting to see it ever since it hit the big screen but had never gotten a chance to rent it. It was worth the wait. Directed by Darren Arnofsky (3.14, Requiem for a Dream), The Fountain has to be the most visually appealing movie I have ever seen. It was so trippy that the hubs and I commented on how stoned we felt (we weren't) and how if we actually were high we would be freaking out. It also has to be one of the most heartbreaking movies I have ever seen. The general theme of the movie is rebirth and life which ultimately comes from death. At one point, I thought I might hyperventilate from crying so hard. The Chef even looked like he was on the verge of breaking down. Like all of Darren Arnofsky movies, the soundtrack was beautiful and made me feel like I was in a completely different world. This movie was very very different. If you do not like 'out of the box' thinking you will hate this movie. I loved it.

Happy Birthday Husband!!!!
MDH,
You rock. I love you. Times have been tough recently but I know we will make it through them. I am so proud to call myself your wife. Yaaaay Sawyer!!!
Hope you like your presents....

Love,
Chef's Widow

Monday Night Music Fix: Ladies Night!!!

I am in a serious chick mood. Which means you are too. Here are some lovely ladies I am into right now.



Hello Safe Ride





Amy Winehouse




Lilly Allen

I have always been a dog lover. Never a cat person, always one for Team Dog. Since I adopted Potato near Tompkins Square Park almost three years ago, I have thought of myself as an advocate for the canine especially the bully breeds. This started because when the Chef & I moved back to Ohio the first time we were confronted with fear and ignorance, not only from strangers but also our family and friends. People in Ohio, we found, had a super negative view of pit bull dogs or anything that remotely resembled one. I read about the laws, I started a MySpace group, I sent bulletins. And then we moved back to NYC, the land of the pit bull. The state that fights Bully Breed Discrimination, the state that has laws fight breed specific legislation (something Ohio is known for). All was well again. My activism decreased, my interest subsided. That is until now.
We are back in the suburbs, the land of Hummer's, fake nails, and forgotten beliefs. I know that while we are in this land of ignorance and apathy we must play by the rules, however I guess I wasn't aware of how the rules in this town are bullshit.

Here we go:

Last week, Potato got free. He ran into the neighbors yard and almost got hit by his car while he was backing out of his drive. The Chef got Potato and took him inside. Not a big deal. This particular neighbor has 2 dogs that are constantly in his front yard running free and terrorizing Potato & Vito (who we never let into the front yard). Fast forward an hour. I am outside with the dogs in our 6ft. tall privacy fenced in backyard. I hear a very loud banging on my storm door (I have a doorbell). I answer and it is a very stern Animal Control Officer who tells me that he received a complaint about a pit bull who is CONSTANTLY free in the neighborhood. Bullshit. We have been home three weeks, and Potato got loose ONCE. Long story short, he tells me that my dog is 'VICIOUS' and I need $100,000 liability insurance as well as a 6ft. covered kennel in my already fenced in backyard. I told him that I was under the impression that the UNCONSTITUTIONAL pit bull dog laws had been changed. You see Ohio is the only state in the nation who has a law that says any dog who resembles a pit bull (big head, short hair, stocky body) is vicious. In other states, to be considered a vicious dog, the dog must have had a history of biting, attacking, or menacing someone or something. But not here. This white trash animal control guy informs me that even if the State of Ohio repealed or amended it's bullshit laws, the City of Strongsville overrules state laws. Awesome. So I introduce him to my 'vicious' dog, Potato. Potato licks him.
Now I am pissed. I am pissed that we moved back to this state. I am pissed that everyone is fat and loves GWB. I am pissed that my dog could get killed for no reason other than his looks. I am pissed that people are so ignorant and don't care to change their train of thought, not just about pits but about everything that's going on in the world today. I am pissed that every time someone sees that I am pregnant again they ask me if I am going to name the baby 'Pitcher.'
So what the hell am I going to do about all this anger? Well my friends, I am going to educate and educate some more. I am going to go grassroots for my dog. I am going to recite that poem 'When They Came' everyday and apply those words not just to me but to all dogs discriminated because of other dogs deeds. I am going to start a movement for my dog and all other bully breeds out there being discriminated against on a daily basis. I am going to start local because I know that I am not the only pit owner and other's in this area must be going through what I am going through. As of now I am going to promote my MySpace Group as well as start a Meetup. I encourage anyone and everyone (no matter where live) to join and be active. Write letters. Speak up. After the 'Potato Incident,' I found out that there are some people in the House of Representatives who want this law amended to change the definiton of a 'vicious' dog. I encourage you to write letters to all House members in support of House Bill 189.
You can find House member's contact info HERE. I also encourage you to sign the BAN BSL online petition that I will be sending to the House members before the bill goes up in May. Let your voice be heard!


Also check out these great websites that promote this cause:

Love Does Not Discriminate

Rott-n-Chatter

Dog Politics




PEACE 4 PITBULLS

Fridany Night Film Fix: Wedding Crashers Redux

Thirteen Things That Make My Toddler Pyschotic

1. Not being able to eat cottage cheese for lunch, dinner, and breakfast.
2. Not being able to go outside during a massive thunder and lightening storm.
3. Mommy.
4. Daddy.
5. Vito kisses.
6. Getting the play dough taken away from him when he is smashing it into mommy's new shag rug.
7. Anything.
8. Nothing.
9. Not being allowed to which the national average of 4 hrs of TV a day.
10. Getting bubbles stuck to his fingers.
11. Not being allowed to stick things in his ears (like pink insulation from who the hell knows where?)
12. Putting food on his plate if it doesn't 'belong' there.
13. Stepping in wet grass even though he is the one that took his shoes off in the first place.

So this is the new baby. My scanner is crap. If you live by me the pictures are way better in person and you can totally see the alien boy up close & personal. I can't believe how excited I am! I guess actually seeing my little guy really confirmed that we are having another wonderful bundle of joy and insanity:)

Monday Night Music Fix: Bjork's Wanderlust & Earth's Intruders (SNL)

The background music in Earth's Intruders sounds like a womb recording. I wonder if it is. I wouldn't put it past Bjork to use a womb recording as her bass line.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Things I like about being back in Ohio

1. My mortgage is half of our NYC rent, neither of us are working so that works out really well.
2. Signing up for a gym membership that costs $300/yr not $300/month.
3. My dad.
4. Our families.
5. My backyard.
6. The library. Yes there are libraries in NYC but they are confusing and a pain in the ass b/c you have to walk and carry lotsa books.
7. I feel really really SKINNY. And I am prego. Lotsa fatties in Ohio. No offense if you are large.
8. Food is so cheap. Organic milk is the price of NYC pesticide infested milk.
9. The Metroparks. It's like Prospect Park & Central Park combined minus the cracked out homeless folks.
10. Pretty soon my Gpa will be up from FLA and I am a big fan of him. He lives in same town and he cracks me up constantly without ever trying.
11. The news. Seriously it is hilarious. It's like watching The National Enquirer, no Wacky World News. Everything is soooooooooooooo fabricated it's funny. New York news was so sad and disheartening. If someone was killed in NYC you wondered how another human could do something, but if someone is killed in Ohio you wonder why it had four eyes and a blue leg.
12. My bizatches. Especially my BFF. I have missed her greatly. She is my rock and boy does she know how to listen to my long winded ass.
13. Papa John's pizza. Haven't had it yet but that garlic butter sauce has been on my mind since we crossed the state line.

Friday Night Film Fest: The Dark Crystal

I was just catching up on some of my favorite blogs when I ran across this post. Memory lane. Ahh I do love thee. In honor of Disney Afternoon Cartoon's I am featuring a Disney film for FNFF. It's no ordinary Disney flick however...scary, sad and dark, no Little Mermaid here.
You can watch the entire film on YouTube if you so desire.

In a faraway world a mighty astronomical event is about to occur,
the Great Conjunction of the planet's Three Suns. At this time, the
cruel Skeksis who rule this world from the castle of the Dark Crystal
are frightened to learn that an ancient prophecy may be coming true:
A survivor of the Gelfling, an elfin race they thought they had
destroyed, is seeking to restore the missing shard of the Dark Crystal
before the moment of the Great Conjunction, thus ending the tyranny of
the Skeksis. Hidden in the valley of the urRu, young Jen the Gelfling
has been raised by a tribe of mystics and knows little of the world
outside, but know his Master's dying words have charged him with his
mission to find the lost shard before it is too late. Traveling
through many strange places and encountering many extraordinary
beings, Jen races against time to unravel the mystery of his quest and
save his world from the forces of evil.