Following Through

Remember how I said a few short days ago that I was going to do the Honest Scrap game. I planned to tell you one honest thing about me every day, say a lot of long overdo thank yous and launch the 2009 trivia competition in ten easy posts. I made it to four. That is sadly exemplary of my life in the last few years. My commitment skills sorely lack. Funny, because once upon a time, I could really follow a project through to completion. All on my own. Multitask even. Some people considered me a reliable legal professional.

Ms. Pletcher at Mixed Nuts gave me a kick in the butt by tagging me with the honest scrap game a second time. I can't ignore fate. Apparently, there are some things I must confess. I owe six.

5) I hated Eat, Pray, Love. I know, sacrilege. I'm not sure I can explain it without sounding whiny. Maybe I am whiny. Here it is: At the exact same moment in her life that she decided she couldn't possibly tie herself down with a husband and kids and survive the horror, I gave up my world traveling ways and dreamlike overseas existence and decided to have kids with my husband in a nice, quiet, mid-sized town. Granted, I adore my husband and I wasn't caught in a vicious, suicidal depression. That doesn't quell my bitterness. While the book is well written and the author is charming, the bottom line is that us ordinary people is boring whereas she is spiritually enlightened, has a sexy Venezuelan lover and gained fifteen pounds eating her way across Italy, not to mention a book deal and a movie starring Julia Roberts as her. Hello, in my twenties, every once in a while, someone who thought I was drunk enough to sleep with them would tell me I looked like Julia Roberts. Meanwhile, I shall work my way up the scale at least twenty-five pounds carefully watching what I eat and walking regularly on the enlightened path to my fourth child. I'm happy. She's happy. There's no judgment here. Still. Bitch. (Petty, but honest.) (Hey, jealousy! Name that band for five points.)

6) Two years ago, around Valentine's Day, Matt wanted a new road bike and I wanted to pay an expensive Hollywood Expert guy to read this (whispering, shhhhh) screenplay I've written and help me make it, I don't know, more screen-play-like. We made a deal and both spent more than we should have. My 'screenplay' (aha, I can't write it with a straight face) had gotten the equivalent of an honorable mention in a competition (along with a lot of other people) and I knew I needed serious help if I was ever going to do any better than that. Hollywood Expert was really knowledgeable and his comments made sense. I truly understood how I could make the writing and plot better after our first conversation. Because the play needed a lot of structural, formatting work, he offered to let me do one rewrite before he did his final, in-depth analysis. That was two years ago. Two years. Even if I weren't too humiliated to approach Hollywood Expert now, he won't remember me. Did I mention it was expensive? Why do I do these things?

7) Matt and I love Vh1 'best of' specials. Top 50 Teen Idols, Top 100 Songs from the 80s. It's good TV. Really hard trivia question. For ten points, fill in this awesome quote taken from Vh1's Best Songs of the 80s Special. "___________________ (80s Bangles' song) had perhaps the industry standard in whistle solos." Matt and I laughed really hard. We're easily amused. Anyone else watch this drivel? The snarky commentary by 80s artists is priceless.

8) I abhor the way the quadruple screen test makes me crazy, but I can't resist taking it. The entire two week wait for the results, I wonder why I did it. What will I do if it's positive. More extensive testing? Nothing? Something? I have absolutely no idea. I'm sorry anyone anywhere faces positive results ever. I cried last week when my doctor called to tell me, for the third and final time, that our baby has negligible risk for the screened chromosomal deficiencies.

9) Matt just admitted to liking Prince. I love Vh1.

10) It took me fifteen minutes in the car today to convince Ess and Gee that the baby in my belly is not Baby Jesus. Unless they know something I don't. I considered accepting my role as the Madonna, but it seemed a bit wrong, considering that I am not a Christian. I admit that I'm really glad that today was their last day of faith-based schooling for a long, long time, if not forever. I don't mind what faith, if any, they choose, and I hope to educate them as much as I can on a lot of different belief systems, but indoctrination at three is wearing on me a bit. And, let me tell you, 'mommy doesn't pray to Jesus, she has a different view of the concept of God,' doesn't fly with three-year-olds. Ms. Jamie prays to Jesus, you see, and Ms. Jamie lets them play playdough. End of discussion. No, no mommy, like this, on your knees, bend your head, fold your hands, close your eyes. Finally, news flash, Jonah didn't like it in the whale. It smelled bad. It's ocean month at SDA preschool.

Ta Da. Right on time. Vh1's Best 80s songs just ended. Anyone know number 1? It's Bon Jovi. Five points for the title of the song.