What A Loser.

Now, don't laugh, but I watch "The Biggest Loser." Okay, I guess you can snicker. Or maybe let out a guffaw. But seriously, it's a very inspirational show and once we get our gym memberships in February, you can all kiss my ass. Anyway, let me tell you about Vicky.

What a petulant little bitch! She's been out to win the money, plain and simple, weight loss is just a pleasant side effect. If you watch her during the challenges, she puts out minimal effort. Just enough to get it done, really. She always comes in last or just plain gives up. If you watch her when she talks to Bob, she rarely looks him in the eye or she'll roll her eyes and you can tell she's just providing lip service; she means nothing of what she says. She's playing the game.

And that wouldn't bother me on any other reality show. Hell, that's what competitions are about in most cases. But TBL is different: it's meant to change lives overall, not just monetarily. People apply to be on this show because they've discovered that they can't do it on their own. They need support, guidance and resources to learn from. And this bitch rolled into town and went from sweet, southern-drawl Vicky to a hateful, conniving bitch whose ass I long to kick.

RAWRRRR!!! Rarely do I let people on TV get under my skin like this but it's really stuck in my craw this time. I don't wish for her to gain her weight back, I think she's done a hell of a job losing it, but I wish she were in it for the right reasons.Here's a good piece that can say better what I'm trying to convey.

24

No, not the TV show. The last 24 hours of my life. Why do you care? Oh, who are we kidding, you don't. You thought I was going to talk about it's impending Season 6 premier in five weeks. Or maybe you thought I'd talk about Keifer Sutherland. No such luck.

In the last 24 hours, I've received a phone call from New York City, my husband's been given word of promotion, and my interest in science has once again been piqued. Allow me to elaborate.

My phone rang around 11:00 a.m. yesterday; I was just setting my son to feed him his lunch. I looked at the number on the caller ID, didn't recognize it, and therefore didn't answer it. The answering machine picks up and this perky voice says, "Hi Darcie, this is Mandie from the Rachael Ray Show..." and that's all I heard because I immediately knew what she was calling about. This past Friday, I emailed the RR Show in response to this. In short: Email their show if you need a new wardrobe but don't have the dough to achieve that goal on your own.

So I immediately called her back and we spoke for a few minutes; I had to answer a few questions about what kind of wardrobe I needed, why I needed it, etc. Basically I had to plead my case. Then she asked me to email her three or four full-body pictures of myself.

Um. I don't have any.

Well, that's not entirely true, I had a few, including one I up and snapped about two minutes after the phone call ended. I then sent a head shot so she wouldn't think I was too frumpy. I looked frumpy as HELL in all but one of those pictures. She emailed back and said she would let me know via email or phone if I was chosen for that particular show and if I wasn't, they'd hold on to my information for future episodes. Holy crap! If they called and told me they were flying my ass to NYC and putting me up for a night or two so I could BE ON NATIONAL TV and then get to go SHOPPING...well, I just might pee my pants.

Then again, I might pee my pants at the scariness and unfamiliarity of all that. I've not flown since April 2001. Pre-9/11. Even after seven years of no air terrorism, I'm still leery. Read this for some laughs about that. I've never been to NYC alone. Scratch that. I've never been to NYC. I really doubt the show would fly me and my crew out to the east coast. I'd probably be going solo. Finally, and most importantly, I've never been on TV. Not really, anyway. My mom and I were on Erie, PA, news for my hometown's flood in 1996. The Lt. Gov. - then Mark Schweiker - visited our house. That doesn't exactly rank anywhere near Rachael Ray.

So that's that.

Then my husband comes home, gets changed, eats dinner, waits until "Jeopardy" is starting (two hours after his arrival home) and says, "Oh, by the way, I heard from both [service manager's name here] and [head road mechanic's name here] that in two weeks, I'll be on the road."

"What does that mean?" you ask?

It means, we think a raise, a company van, and better hours. That is to say, 40 hours per week, just as it should be. To quote Shannon, "Squeeeeee!" More money, less gas money out of our pockets, and full paychecks? Cover me in oil and call me Slick. But we'll see if any of that actually manifests.

And for my interest in science. Fringe science, that is. I freakin' LOVE this show! It's very reminiscient of The X-Files, but with more action, much more humor, and a tad less secrecy. I love the repartee between Peter and Dr. Bishop, the creepy Agent Broyles, and all the scary-yet-intriguing cases they deal with. I was horrible with all science classes in high school, from 7th grade Physical Science to Chem II and Physics, I scraped by. As a friend's mom once put it, I'm "...the artsy-fartsy type." But this show makes me want to go back to college and major in everything scientific. Fascinating, I tell you!

Chop Suey

My title's meaning is two-fold: it's both literal and rhetorical. Literally, I'm making Chinese food tonight. I'm attempting my first from-scratch stir fry. I have a big-ass bag of white rice, 12 stalks of broccoli, a bag of baby carrots, a bag of frozen snap peas, sesame oil and soy sauce. Wish me luck!

Rhetorically, my post today will be "mixed pieces" of my life as it stands. Complaints, commentary, and happy notes. Bon appetit.

~ I feel sorry for my son, I really do. He's cut his two bottom teeth already, about a month or two ago. Last week he cut his right lateral incisor. This week he's cutting his left incisor and possibly his left lateral incisor. Right incisor isn't far behind. So his gums are swollen and he's in a lot of pain. He's grumpy, whiny, clingy and all-together miserable and I really can't blame the guy! But GODDAMMIT!!!! Must he keep biting me? Seriously? He bites my leg if he's standing up in front of me, he bites my hand if it gets too close, and today he made like he was going to kiss me and sucked in my bottom lip and bit the fark out of it. I'm honestly surprised I didn't bleed.

~ That aside, he's just the Prodigal Baby. He's cruising and starting to stand independently, he's trying his damnedest to say "kitty," although it's coming out more like "dit-dee," and he's totally feeding himself. He's also, when he's not teething, the happiest baby in the world! He's sleeping through the night, despite teething, and that is SUCH a relief.

~ My daughter. She's really picking things up like a giant magnet in a room full of paper clips. Her speech has become so complex considering where she was a year ago and she's learning manners. She knows "please" and "thank you," as well as "you're welcome," and we're working on chewing with her mouth shut. She loves giving "Biiiig hugs!" and saying, "I loooooove [insert object here]!!" It's hysterical.

~ I can't wait for fall programming to come back. I miss my shows. I like "Last Comic Standing" but honestly, I've not been blown away by any of the comics. I was all for Jeff Dye but his last act kinda fell flat. Louis Ramey was funny last week but not so much before that. Rob likes Eliza's comedy, but I'm iffy on her. I was glad to see Papa CJ and the skinny little leprechaun-looking muppet go. Neither of them were ever funny! How long can you play the "I'm Indian and that's what my comedy's all about" card? But I digress, I miss Chuck, Ghost Whisperer, Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives, not to mention The Office. What will become of Phyllis' secret about Dwight and Angela?! Anybody else on board to keep discussing this?

~ So my birthday's coming up and it's going to suck just like it does every year. It's September 10th and that falls during the "rent paycheck period." Virtually all our money goes towards rent during the first half of the month so there's never anything left to celebrate my birthday. Then we're almost always broke anyway, so celebrating five days later never really happens either! It sucks. I hate it. I know that's very Negative Nelly but I haven't had a fun, happy birthday since I was 18 or so.

~ Is anyone else contemplating Christmas already? My husband's looking at picking up a second job (for various reasons that I'm not going to get into - gotta leave a little mystery for you all, right?) so funds might not be a huge issue this year, but now we're buying for two kids plus the whole family. I'm thinking about baking for them this year. Cookie trees for everyone! Buy cute little Christmas mugs, lollipop sticks, foam blocks, and make Cookie Trees. Good idea?

So that's all in this week's edition of Got Serious Writer's Block Chop Suey!

I wish I was still a kid.

This is what's going on in our room right now. Two sleeping babes. Not pictured is the sleeping cat on our bed. I wish I was still a kid and got a daily nap! No chores that need doing, no blogs that need writing (I plan on launching my own registered blog soon and I need to get in the habit of writing daily), no air of certainty that the minute I drift off, at least one of the children will wake up.

Remember our childhood (I'm speaking to those of us born before 1986 or so)? We rode bikes, we played outside, we didn't vegetate in front of TVs and video games - at least not to the extent kids do today - and we used our imaginations. Kids today, all they do is let their minds rot with Grand Theft Auto or some NBA game on their Xbox or PS3. It's sad. They don't know the joy of climbing trees, riding bikes all day long, making up stories for the heck of it...maybe I lived an idyllic childhood, I don't know.

I know I want to raise my kids in the country. Where a kidnapping is a lot less likely and a drug deal isn't going down one block away. Where they'll spend more time outdoors than indoors, where they'll be forced to create their own fun, instead of looking to the TV for it. I'm so glad we won't have cable at our apartment. Thing 1 needs a lot less TV and Thing 2, well, I don't want him watching it at all. Thing 1 has watched so much TV since we moved in with the in-laws, I think she's forgotten how to play. I'm a bit ashamed, really, that I let it get this bad. That's why (among a million other reasons) I'm so excited about getting back into our own place. Thing 1 played her heart out when we were in Fremont, mainly because I limited her TV time.

The moral of the story: TV is pure evil. Okay, not pure evil. If the kids are busy or asleep, mommy and daddy will watch TV shows online. :o)