Hawaiian Bread is a Gateway Drug

OMG!  That Hawaiian Bread stuff!!!

We had lunch with some friends in the mountains this summer and the mom made these DELICIOUS little sandwiches on Hawaiian Bread.

Let me just say, I don’t want to be known as the piggy guest, but SHE DIDN’T MAKE ENOUGH OF THEM!!!

My daughters and I grab these seemingly innocuous sandwiches off the plate, put them in our mouths thoughtlessly, (hey, we were at the lake – we had other things to do!) and KABOOM!

Blondie and I? Our eyes met.  Our eyes lit up.  And we both said:  MMMmmmm, yummy.

Glowie? Hey – she actually ATE a sandwich, which is always an amazing thing.

And then? It was like driving over a cliff.

That melt in your mouth, soft, soft, soft bread! Why the sweet, light taste of it.

Why it is like the Cotton Candy of Bread!!! Light, airy, sweet and it melts in your mouth!

This stuff is a GateWay Drug. 

Why? You may ask?  Because once you’ve had that scrumptious, tender, Hawaiin bread you, well, you start to … experiment.

You know – Tuna sand with a bit of mayo.  (FYI – Tastes yummy!)

How about with a bit MORE of mayo? (FYI – Tastes so much better!)

I asked myself: “Why do we buy Orowheat Whole Wheat bread?  What was I thinking?”

In case you don’t try to eat healthy, Orowheat Whole Wheat bread?  You could use it as a club to knock home invaders unconscious.

Eat that stuff and you will never have a problem with “regularity” again.

And by healthy – I mean dry and cardboard tasting.  But hey – I’m commited to good health.  (Or am I?)

We got home and I said: “Hey, why don’t WE buy some of that Hawaiian Bread.”

My girls were giddy with the wildness of the idea.

“Mommy, WE could actually BUY that special bread?”

Yep.  Get in the car.

Since then?

Basketfuls of the stuff.

And I’m not talking about that modest hand basket you can pick up at the entrance of the grocery store.

No, I mean the actual shopping cart.  Filled.  With Hawaiian Bread.

Who knew?

It comes in little rolls, big giant honkin’ slabs, dinner roll size…you name it – you can get it.

And then you find out they have Hot Dog Buns!

And can we just digress a little bit about the hot dog bun ones?

Since we had these little hot dog bun sized rolls (Hey – they were on special that day.  OK, they weren’t but that was the lie I told to justify coming home with 5 packages of Hawaiian bread for a family of 4.  Really a family of 3.5 cuz Glowie doesn’t eat much.) it seemed like a good idea to have hot dogs.

Yum. Yum.

Hot dogs in those buttery, soft, melt in your mouth rolls!

“Why, no.  I don’t think it’s a bad idea to have two.  As a matter of fact Mommy would like another one also.”

Every day? Well, we need something for lunch, right? Or after school snack, right? Or lunch AND after school snack, right?

And then there were all the amazing ideas of things you could do with these delicious buns. 

Make sandwiches with LOTS of mayonnaise.  Cuz, hmmm.  How good would THAT taste? (Turns out – pretty damned good!)

Sadly, as with any addiction, you do hit rock bottom.  (Heavy emphasis on “bottom” for this part of the story…)

I did my Back to School Weigh-In.

“Kids! Mommy has some bad news.”

“No.”

“No one died. But you may take this pretty hard.”

There will be no more Hawaiian Bread in this house.

No, no.

It is back to school.

Back to eating healthy.

Back to Oro Wheat Whole Wheat Bread.

(Yes, we can get a little handcart to roll that Whole Wheat bread from the car to the kitchen.)

So there I am…Throwing out my temptation.  The tiny dinner rolls, the big giant slab of deliciousness, the – gulp- hot dog buns…

Then the withdrawals hit… The crying, shaking, flashes of hot and cold.  Well really just hot. Oh wait, that may not be the Hawaiian Bread.  Shoot, I digress.

Again, the crying, the calling out –No, Please, NOOO!

Oh and the kids took it really hard too.

Cuz there is no reason that Back to School shouldn’t represent the end of everything good in the world.

#Bread12StepNeeded

Summer Reading 2013

Here's my take on my summer reads.  Hey, I didn't lay on the white couch making pretend I was napping all the time (especially when I heard: "MOM!) without getting some reading done.  In the pool, while the kids were at the lake, in an easy chair which sits outside on the deck (please reference the Clampetts here) or mostly? On the couch......

BEST OF THE BEST...

Sisterland by Curtis Sittenfeld

My fave book of the summer.  Twins - the good, the bad, the power of sisters.  It flies.

If you haven't read Prep or American Wife? You have so much to look forward to in the Fall!

The Woman Upstairs by Claire Massoud

I love this author.  This woman in this story is PISSED OFF.  Oddly, I like an edgy voice. Swept away and uncomfortable.

The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer

I do love camp stories while my children are at camp.  It's the Big Chill from Summer Arts Camp.  Loved it.

My Education by Susan Choi

This is a sexy book, with a rich story about a college girl coming of age caught in a relationship with her professor and his wife. Really...need I say more? Read it!

OTHER RICH AND WONDERFUL:

The Dinner by Herman Koch

Austrian, tight, tense, riveting mystery story with dramatic twist. Powerfully grasps our relationships to our growing kids.  Two families take sides...Do we really know our kids? YIKES! Memorable.

Gillespie and I by Jane Harris

A gripping, literate story of a spinster who is befriended by a young family, where the husband is an artist.  Riveting and compelling and powerful...narrative twists and compelling points of view.  I'm afraid to say more...I'll give good stuff away.

Flight Behavior by Barbara Kingsolver

Poison-wood Bible was her best book ever, but this is a magical, powerful story...almost as good, but worth the read.  You know, the whole: when a butterfly flaps its wings the world will change.  Loved the evolution of this story.

Beginners Goodbye by Anne Tyler

God I love Anne Tyler and her quirky tales.  This one just touched my heart...about a man who loses his wife...but has he? It spoke to me about the power of love, marriage and connection.  And scared me about how I would live without my husband. 

Big Brother by Lionel Shriver

She pisses me off.  This is her story about a woman with a morbidly obese brother and the struggle to have a relationship around the fat and the issues that got him fat.  I don't think she likes fat people.  Being a fat person myself I was prickly.  However...this is powerful and memorable.  Side note:  The author's brother passed away in his 50's from being overweight.

SHIT YOU SHOULD READ CUZ IT IS IMPORTANT:

The Middlesteins by Jami Attenberg

A bickering couple... I would say not memorable enough but my memory is fading as my children age.  (I don't age.)  But it is a negative read on marriage.  Not in that voyeuristic, let-er-rip kinda way.

Life after Life by Kate Atkinson

She is revered as one of the greatest voices of our generation.  It was a hard read and I don't know that my life is any richer at the end.  Hilter, Bombing in WWII (Okay - I was richer for understanding THAT!). Sad, tortured.

The Bright River by Patrick Somerville

An okay story about a guy finding himself against some intense family secrets.

DELICIOUS STUFF TO READ WHILE YOU ARE DRINKING A BEER IN A FLOATIE:

Outtakes from a Marriage by Ann Leary (anything from Ann Leary)

She is Dennis Leary's wife - so this is good stuff - amazing and delicious.  Of course you read her indepth stories of flawed marriage and relationships and are pretty sure it is all about them.  Making it more delish.  Riveting, can't put it down, perfect for summer.  God, she can't write these fast enough for me.

Chanel Bonfire by Wendy Lawless

This author tweets with me AND her book is fabulous.  I thought I was reading a novel but it is her memoir growing up with a crazy, mentally ill, over-the-top, Hollywood type mother.  Fast read, can't get enough, riveting.  And did I mention that she tweets me?

READING RIGHT NOW:

Yonahlasse Riding Camp for Girls by Anton DiSclafini

I'm hoping this is something my daughters can read.  We love Summer Camp stories, but this ends up being an old time story about a girls' boarding school.  The protagonist is being sent away for something "bad".  I will let my kids read this (I will insist actually - this will make my threats about Boarding School carry more weight) if there isn't some graphic sex or too tragic ending.

Fuck you Fire.  What about MY Summer Vacation? 

This is a play by play of our experience with the Mountain Fire

My kid got a scholarship to Band Camp for TWO weeks.  (Allelujah. Allelujah.)

I was going to have a GREAT time!!!  (Allelujah. Allelujah.)

Martini’s, napping, spa days, did I mention martini’s?

And not hearing: “MOM!!!”

So we drop our kid at band camp in the mountains.

There is a lot of weeping. 

She wept a lot too.  Then she decided that this scholarship, for which she had to audition, was maybe not such a good idea.

She offered to do all the chores in the world without ever complaining again if we would just take her home.

She begged, pleaded and wept.

She was very clear that she had CHANGED HER MIND about Band Camp.

Sorry Charlie.  We are outa here!

“I love you.  You will be fine!”

However, we drove off with a pit in our stomachs.

But once we got home we figured: She’ll work it out.  She’ll be playing music.  She will be fine.

And then? I started to relax.

Got my younger daughter in a day camp program.  (Allelujah. Allelujah.)

Thought about getting a pedicure in between work and appointments.  Ahhh…(Allelujah. Allelujah.)

Monday afternoon Palm Springs becomes oddly dark, smokey and ashy. 

Hmmm.

There must a fire somewhere…you know, somewhere up over the mountain there.

Uh, the Mountain there?

My kid is on the other side of the mountain.

Nah…It must be coming from somewhere else.

My husband calls.

I blow him off.  Chill Dad – she’s fine.  The fire is over by Hemet.  Why Hemet must be zillions of miles away from Idyllwild? Right? RIGHT?

Someone else calls me and asks what I think about the fire over by Idyllwild.

Uh…over by IDYLLWILD? WTF???

And so it begins.

Instead of putting my aching feet up and having a cocktail while toasting my kid for getting a scholarship to a TWO WEEK music camp…I become ONLINE SUPER VIGILANTE FIRE MONITOR MOM.

And I no longer sleep.  I do get in bed.  With all my devices.  They are all on chargers.  I’m wearing my yoga clothes with my tennis shoes by the bed.  I am ready to go!!!

Cuz that fire went for a few acres Monday afternoon to thousands of acres the next morning.

I keep checking with the camp.

Cuz …in Palm Springs? It is dark like night in the middle of the day.  Ashes are raining down everywhere (or do I have very severe dandruff?).  People are wearing masks on the streets of Palm Canyon. Sort of Avian Flu like.

My dogs vomit when they go outside cuz of the dense smoke. (But really? Better they vomit outside than in. I’m a glass half-full person after all.)

However, at the camp, the staff are VERY calm. (Too calm? I ask myself.  Remember – I have stopped sleeping. I’m old, I’m tired, I’m menopausal. I NEED my sleep! I can tend to overreact.)

I keep logging into the Idyllwild Town Crier, which btw, has a motto of “Almost All of the News – Part of the Time”.  I personally apologize to them for logging in 97 times every hour for 72 hours.  You Go Idyllwild Town Crier!!!

So I try sending my daughter comforting texts which of course she doesn’t respond to.  Phone dead? Highly likely.  Bad cell service?  Of course.  Cell Towers on fire? Shit.

Is any of that information calming? NO.

I send incoherent, late night emails to friends with better technical skills than I have (virtually all my friends, I believe) asking them how to help me get more info.

By Wednesday I have figured out how to watch the Fire on a Google Earth app. Now THAT does not reassure me at all. 

I’m ready for the Evac Order.

We cancel our dinner plans. I put on fresh yoga clothes and pack a couple of bottles of water.  I double check the charge on all my devices.

I do NOT have the martini I so long for.

The Evacuation Order is issued to the camp.  They are given a route and an Evacuation Center to head to. 

We get in the car.  My Brazilian blowout has somehow become a complete afro.

Finally my daughter calls me.  She is so upset.  She had to leave her beloved teddy bear, her beautiful-amazing new guitar (8^th grade graduation present) and all of her clothes, etc behind.  She has her saxophone and her iPhone.

Now, there is this:  When I dropped her at camp I had threatened her: Don’t you lose that guitar.  If you don’t take care of it and it gets stolen, no one is buying you a new guitar!  Do you understand me???

So she thinks I am going to be mad as they descend the mountain, 56 kids per bus, 10 buses, traversing smokey, dark, winding roads.

Oh Baby (I say through shitty cell service – hence I use a very loud, borderline hysterical voice) I’ll get you a new guitar.  Don’t worry about it.  You are safe.  You are a good girl.  I love you.

We will meet you at the evacuation center. Keep your phone on so I can track you. Don’t worry about anything.  I love you!!!

And I log into Find Friends and I watch that purple dot come down the mountain. 

Technology is now my best friend.

And texting.  I now fully embrace texting:

Mom - Hi Baby.  I love you !  Thank you for telling me you are evacuating.  We will be there at the High School Evacuation Center in a couple of hours!  I love you.

Mom - You guys are not at the high school.  I can see your purple dot.  You are parked at an elementary school.  Are you still on bus?  I love you.

Blondie – Yeah I’m on the bus still.  We are waiting for an entirely different camp to unload.

MOM – Unload at the elementary school?  Do you know where you are?

Blondie – Not any idea.  I’m on a bus.

MOM – I see buses.  We are following a bus!

Blondie – Ok. It looks like we are going into a big parking lot

MOM – We are behind the row of buses.  Maybe this is you. I love you.  Good girl!

Blondie - Kisses

MOM – I’m here. Outside the buses on sidewalk!! Where are you?

Blondie – Ok, I have to go to the gym.  If there are other kids with music cases, follow them.

MOM – Are you still on the bus?  Look for me!!

At this point I am waving my arms constantly like I have some sort of Windmill Arm Disorder.

Blondie – I’m not OFF the bus.  I’m near the exit of the parking lot.

MOM- Is there a Cute super blonde girl at front of YOUR bus?

Blondie – With sunglasses on her head?

MOM – No big black glasses.

MOM - Look for me on sidewalk! 

MOM – Are there buses in front of you? 

MOM – Are there buses in back of you? 

MOM – Look around!

MOM – I’m looking for you Honey.

MOM – Are you on the right or left side of bus?

Blondie – No response.

Blondie - I see you.  Ok. 

Blondie – Oh. There you went.  You passed me!

Blondie -  Go back to where you were. By the front.

MOM – Now?  Can you see me now? (Windmill Arm Syndrome really flares up here.)

Blondie – You are on the correct side.

MOM – Which bus? There are 10 buses! (More Arm Whipping.  And Jumping.  I do NOT jump.  I’ve had many spinal surgeries.  Jumping is NO GOOD.  But I’m jumping.)

How do I end up finding my Blondie?

I knock on the window of each and every bus describing her: Tall, blonde, short hair, sax player?

And then I see her little head.

MOM –  I see you. Come down to me now.  NOOOOWWWW!!!

And what happens in the car on the way home from the evacuation center? First she asks for McDonalds. Then she asks how soon she can go back.  Cuz she is just LOVING this amazing band camp!

Honey, we will wait and see.  30,000 acres and counting.

But the second they get the all clear order? We will be the first people up the hill. Hey, getting a two week break? Not happening.

But I’ll take whatever I can get…even two days!

Out Damned Fire! Out!

I’m not gonna miss this shit!!!

Another School Fundraiser! Yay! (Shit)

Is there a school in America that doesn't have their students sell stuff to make money?

You know a little extra pocket change for things like BOOKS and an AV projector?  (OK – in our school it is called an Elmo System, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Sesame Street.)

Because if such a school exists? I’m sending my kids there.

Not that I don’t enjoy buying some more really ugly wrapping paper or having more scented candles which activate my husband’s allergies?  Cuz I totally enjoy that, being that I aspire to be on the A&E Hoarders show at least once in my life.

But seriously? This stuff is killing me.

Let’s see:  there is peanut brittle (cuz I need me a little more candy in my house), See’s Candy (cuz that’s how you promote healthy eating in the schools), wrapping paper, tchotke stuff, cookie dough (well, let’s not jump to eliminate ALL of these things right off the bat).

Now we don’t have any relatives.  Seriously.  My husband and I are only children and my parents are gone (I love you Mama and Daddy!).

So what is left? 

My kids walking up and down the street trying to sell this shit to the neighbors, or a quick trip to the Mommy Bank.

Well, that’s a viable skill to have, right?  Cold calling, learning how to make a quick pitch, facing rejection early on in life.

Yeah.  None of that is going to happen.

For one thing, I like my neighbors. (OK, most of my neighbors.)

Thing two? I’m not going with them and they aren’t going alone.

Thing three? There is no thing 3 – it just isn't gonna happen.

So here’s what I learned. 

If I buy this crap, not only do I have more stuff to go in my Goodwill bin, but the school only gets 50 cents of the dollar.

So I have solved the problem.

I write a check.

Every time.

Each kid.

Every fundraiser.

I write about 15 checks a year.

I will happily pay cold hard cash to NOT have my children develop their sales skills.  Really?  I’m supposed to prepare them for a future as the Fuller Brush Man or the Avon Lady?

Not happening.

And if they kept track of this stuff at the schools?

I’d be in the platinum cash club.

But they don’t.

All my kids know is that they don’t win the iPad or the Pizza party for having the most sales.

Cuz you know, they are deprived.

I tell them to just cry into the piano, saxophone case, bicycle basket or better yet, the MacBook.

Deprived of some things. But a less crazy Mom?

Uh kids? THAT is a gift!

Check me out on the Today show yesterday... http://www.today.com/id/49063771/#52094078

Rocking the EvaVarro dress on the Today show. God Bless you for dressing big and small! 

15 minutes of fame? Hells Bells, I had 8 nanoseconds yesterday. 

Check me out at http://tinyurl.com/mwhpfyg

Deluge in NYC. Room service tonight.

I don't want to ruin my blowout.

New York Museum Day

Wait one hot minute! My wet vac could be art?

I'm pretty sure I need one of these

Where's the W? 

Talk about a room with a view.....

Watch out NYC here comes Dee Dee

(Trying not to think of being on 40th floor. Earthquake phobia, you know)

Traveling comes so easily to me…aka I’m a liar.

Traveling.  That’s like driving to LA from Palm Springs right?

Top the gas tank, charge the devices, and put some extra ativan in the purse.

We have these friends.  I won’t name them. (Bitter-Warning inserted here.)

But they know who they are, they and their two kids.

They are world-wide travelers. (Eye-roll inserted here.)

·         Europe! Almost every year!

·         Paris,Tuscany

·         Manhattan, Washington DC.

·         The Grand Canyon

You get the picture.

And then there’s us.

Here’s our travel itinerary for the past 8 years:

·         The local mountains.

We stay in a trailer.  There is no Chanel atelier.  We BBQ.

There is beer.

And floatie rafts on the lake.  With a special hole in them to carefully place said beer.

And when we are feeling fancy?

There’s wine.  With a screw top.

So let’s discuss packing now that we are on route for our big New York trip!!! 

Packing. It is hard for me to type that word and not have a little bit of pee leak out.

So my plan?

I order a rolling, sturdy, stainless steel clothing rack from Amazon.  And yes, I pay the $15 upgrade for next day shipping.

And then I put everything in my closet on the rack.  To pack.  You know?

I mean there was editing.  I left off the flapper dress and disco queen dress (yes, in Queen size) and a fuchsia boa from Halloweens past.

I mean, I’m a classy person and I’m going to Manhattan for Christ’s Sake.

So I’m pretty sure my entire wardrobe of Resort Bold Floral Print Casual will totally fit in Midtown, right?

And? Cuz I’m so organized? I roll that puppy from room to room collecting everything from my daughters’ closets.

Oddly enough, the children are cowering in the corner of the living room, because the frightening vibration of the overloaded clothing rack has made them think we are sustaining a 6.1 earthquake. 

“Kids”, I say in a high pitched tone, “everything is fine.  FINE!!!  Mommy is just having a hot flash!”

And a flipping panic attack.

“Mommy is PACKING!!!”

Oh wait, maybe I could roll this right onto the plane. 

“I’ll be passing on check-in luggage today, thank you so kindly.”

Cuz really…don’t you know who I am? (Swinging boa around neck haughtily.  Ok, I lied.  I did bring it.)

I’m The Dee View, from Palm Springs – the queen of all things Plus-Size fashion.  (Bigger clothes…bigger suitcases Baby!)

You know…me and Michael Kors. (Another Queen of Plus-Size fashion.)

And the real question is…how will I pack my floatie thing…and my six-pack of beer?

Cuz I may need them in Manhattan.  Right?