xoxo by Lisa

Xoxo. It means hugs and kisses or kisses and hugs depending on whom you ask. It was made popular again by Gossip Girl. (BTW-how much do we love Darota?) And it's often the way both Liz and I sign off when we're blogging, posting and emailing. So you might assume that because we use this tag line that we're affectionate people who are effusive with our emotions. Well guess again.

It's time for a confession. We may be xoxo'ers but we're not huggers and kissers by trade. In fact, Liz and I haven't truly hugged each other in, well, um, er, ever?

Not when we graduated from college.

Not at her wedding.

Not when our book was published.

Well you get the idea. Big events don't equal physical affection between Liz and Lisa.

And we don't need some $200 an hour shrink to tell us that our mechanical ways can most likely be traced back to our childhoods. Emotionally unavailable fathers much?

Case in point: Recently, Liz's 2-year-old son, Shane, hit me in the mouth with a toy golf ball and I started to cry (In my defense, the kid's got a serious arm.... and it was GNO the night before so I was also a wee bit hung over) and her daughter, Riley, was staring at me in disbelief.

Turns out, she'd never seen an adult woman cry; Her mommy, the robot, had never shed a tear. Well, except for when Chris Daughtry was unexpectedly voted off American idol.

But the funny thing is, we may be The Tin Man meets Short Circuit with each other, but with the men in our lives, children and most animals--we have no problem saying I love you and giving kisses and hugs. Maybe we do need that shrink after all?

To illustrate our stiltedness even further, I'll allow you to be a fly on the wall for a recent conversation about Liz's brother, Brian.

LISA:  "How's Brian?"

LIZ:  "Okay, um, yeah, well we're taking it day by day..."

LISA: "Ok, well, you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to talk about..."

LIZ: "Um, yeah, well, okay. Let's change the subject..."

LISA:  "Om, well, okay then... Did you see that crazy Top Model stampede footage on Perez?"

So I'm sure you can understand my surprise and confusion when after TWENTY-TWO YEARS of robotic communication, Liz recently xoxo'd--me.  I mean, I never even get as much as a "best" and now she's xoxo-ing me? WTF?

I emailed her back and jokingly asked if she meant the xoxo for someone else but I already knew the answer-clearly she'd made a mistake. And I had my next blog topic!

But had it been a flub or was it more of a Freudian slip? Suddenly it all came crashing back...like the morning after you hook up with a one-eyed Jack. (True story that I'll save for another post!)

On New Year's Eve she'd left me a message and said she *gulp*  loved me.

But the next morning, when I logged onto Facebook and saw the  bleary-eyed pictures of her escapades on the Queen Mary (BTW, Liz, the Queen Mary, really?) I chalked it up to the fact she was hammered.

But still, I didn't think I'd ever heard those three little words from her before...were we, um, ready for that?

Was she getting soft on me? I thought about possible explanations. She did turn 35 this year...was that it? Or could it be all that spiritual enlightenment sh** she'd been yapping about lately that I prayed was a phase? Was she "changing" our unsaid arrangement that had been working really well for us?

Because the thing is, it's not like we're a couple of stone cold beyotches. I'm proud to say that our friendship has lasted over two decades. And in that time, there's only been one girl fight. (If a bent thumb even qualifies?)

So in honor of almost a quarter life of knowing each other, here are some of our unwritten rules of how our friendship works and how we show each other we care.  (They're all kind of back handed & sarcastic, but hey, that's how we roll.)

As long as I don't call or text her after 11PM, she's always there for me :)

As long as she doesn't call me at work, I've always got her back.  (Work Lisa isn't always a walk in the park!)

Pre-coffee discussions of any kind are only in a case of an emergency.

We're like family. (Well, if you don't count the fact my dad asked her who she was when she tried to friend him on Linkdin.) Bob Steinke's real sorry, I promise.

Her kids call me Auntie Lisa. (Well, me and like 25 others, but hey, I'll take it.)

Liz has logged enough hours counseling me after my many, many break ups that I think she could qualify for an MFT. (Let's put it this way-- I know she's thanking one of those spiritual enlightenment people of hers that I FINALLY met Matt!)

The bottom line is that when you've known someone since they had a unibrow and thought it was cool to drink Strawberry Boones in the back of a pick up truck, it goes without saying that overt affection or not, we are BFF's.

So, in honor of getting older (My 36th birthday is March 30th-hint, hint, hint everyone!) and hopefully wiser, Liz, I accept your xoxo and I raise you an xo!

xoxoxo!

IF I GO-GO THIS IS A NO-NO

Quick update on Brian: Still in ICU, still sedated, still waiting for breathing tube to come out.  Unfortunately, patience is not a virtue in my family so we feel frustrated with the lack of progress but still feel hopeful that he'll pull through.  Thanks again to all of you who have reached out to our family! Brian's accident got me thinking.  Well, actually, if I'm being totally honest, it was The Bachelor finale that sparked this idea and then my brother's brush with death really got the ball rolling.  While watching After the Final Rose, I turned to my husband and told him that if I die and he decides to become the next Bachelor to find a new Mommy for our kids that I will come back and haunt the f*ck out of that Bachelor house.  He then reminded me of a few other "if I die" threats that I've made over the years.  Hmm, he was right, I did use that threat occasionally.  Then my brother got in his accident, reminding me how fragile and random life can be.

That's when I decided it would just be easier if I put all my "if I die" rants  down on paper so Mike knows what's up if I drop dead anytime soon.

Liz's If I go-go this is a no-no List:

1.  Do not go on The Bachelor or any other lame dating show and be billed as "the single dad".  You'll just end up looking like a douche-bag.  Ask Jason.

2.  But...Don't be a martyr.  Find someone else!  Just make sure she is a little less hot then me and weighs at least 5lbs more. And has a big nose. And horse teeth.

3.  And..Don't hook up with any of my friends-everyone will think that you secretly wanted them when I was alive. And I will definitely see that sh*t, no matter where I am. Just think of me as "always watching..."

4. Don't go on American Idol and use me to get votes, even if you do have a pretty good voice.

5. Don't Facebook about me.  In fact, just don't Facebook.  You've gone this long without it, why start now that I'm dead?

6.  Don't try to cook.  The kids have been traumatized enough.  Why not use all that life insurance money to hire a chef?

7. Don't fall in love with above-mentioned chef, unless she fits criteria listed in number two.

8. Don't forget that your belt needs to match your shoes! Brown with brown, black with black.  Why is it so hard to remember?

9. Don't blow all the insurance money at Sportsbook.com. Or playing 32 at Roulette.

10. And never, under any circumstances, are you allowed to go back to having John Tesh hair or wearing jean shorts and Birkenstocks, like you did when we first met.

xoxo Liz

Facebook Faux Pas By Lisa

First, we're so happy that Liz's brother, Brian, is doing a little better.  I'd like to give a  big shout out to Facebook for helping Liz and her family pull through.  As we saw in her hilarious posts, Facebooking in the ICU was essential to Liz's sanity! I even dubbed her the Queen of Facebookwhoreland because of course I support Facebooking anytime, anywhere!-- I Facebook on the toilet for crying out loud! So, I've now been on this fabulous social networking site for just about four months. And I pretty much went from being a Facebook virgin to a total whore overnight.  (It's funny how easily the slutty side came out- or maybe it's not?)

I laugh now as I think back to the beginning; when I thought this whole Facebook thing was going to be solely about reconnecting with childhood friends and keeping up with "real-life" friends' pregnancies, babies, etc... I remember making ridonculous claims like "I wouldn't accept any co-workers" (sorry to say it out loud y'all but you know you considered it too) or I wouldn't send ANY friend requests. Instead, I'd wait for "them to come to me". Or Liz will recall when I professed that I wouldn't accept anyone I couldn't remember. Ha! Those were the days...days of such sweet naivete. Before I unleashed the Facebook ho bag inside!

And now, I'm a slut.  Friend slut, that is. I used to spend a painstaking amount of time crafting my "pitch" to get you to accept me.  Now, more times than not, I don't even include a message. I just send blindly. You don't know me, I don't know you. But I'm banking on the fact that maybe you're a whore too. (Or sleep around just a little).

But please let me clarify. I do like you. Maybe only because you're on Facebook, but still, I like you (isn't it good for friends to have things in common?) And I do want to be your "friend", really I do. But because friends shouldn't lie to friends, I'll be honest and tell you that I do sort of think of you as a conquest... another notch on my Facebook belt, if you will.

I'm on my way to 500 friends (I'm proud to say this includes some recently recruited moms, including my own! Hi mom!) and some of you might consider that a big number, but not me. Not when there are people with thousands of friends. Oh how I envy them!

Recently, someone suggested that I start a group for Facebook whores. And being the whore that I am, I formed Facebook Whores United! six and a half minutes later. But silly me didn't think to check if someone else had already claimed that name (only about two dozen others). So, then I changed it to  Facebook whores on Fire... but  after saying it out loud three times, it sounded a bit risque- even for me. And as I was looking for another name I discovered that some of the groups are literally

Whores. On. Facebook.

Oh... even I hadn't considered that. But that's ok- no judgement here. There's room for all kinds o' slutty in these parts.  (Warning: shameless solicitation coming) But if you want to join our group, I'll  make it easy for ya. Just click here: Facebook Whores & Proud of It!

So in celebration of my four-month anniversary, let me get on my soapbox (so hard for me!) and rant about what I consider to be some Facebook Faux Pas. You might wonder why I, who's probably committing several just by writing this post, would be pointing out others' faux pas? All I can tell you is even a floozy has to draw the line somewhere. Consider this my line in the Facebook sand.

1. TOP FRIENDS --WTF is this and how do you think it makes me feel when I'm not one of the "highlighted" people? Hey, you're my friend, but you're simply not as important as everyone else. I may be a friend whore, but at least I'm not going to rank you!

2. QUIZ NO-NO'S Why? What on Earth compels you to take a quiz and answer questions about whether or not you think I'm the type of person to contract an STD? Or am into porn? You do realize I get these notifications, right? Ewww... is that why you're doing it?

3. STATUS REPORT ABUSE I think a status report is a privilege, not a right. So why must you abuse it? I've already mentioned how nauseating it is for me when you write inappropriate things on my wall. But now you're taking it to the status report where everyone has to suffer?   Just yesterday, you updated your status that you didn't understand why you're husband wasn't signing his divorce papers? Really? You're really going to bitch about that on Facebook?

4. STATUS BREAK UPS My real-life friend 's Facebook friend recently announced his breakup in his status report--just to get a rise out of his ex. Another of my "friends" constantly posts status reports about breaking up, getting back together, breaking up. People, I beg you, stop abusing Facebook in this way....the status reports and switching between single & in a relationship aren't supposed to be used to retaliate against a significant other...because then we are all caught in the middle! Please don't fight in front of your Facebook friends! (Also please see #3- status abuse)

5.  SHAMELESS SOLICITATION STATUS You constantly use your status to plug your blog or your book or your this or your that....oh wait, that's us! Oops...  On that note, Liz and I would like to use this opportunity to thank all of you who are following our blog on Facebook... but if you're not, let me make it easy for ya. Just click here. Wink. Wink.  Networkedblogs Chick Lit Is Not Dead

xoxo

PRICELESS IN A CRISIS by Liz

So here's the latest update...Things are looking up a bit with Brian.  His color is coming back and they are thinking about taking out his breathing tube.  He isn't out the woods quite yet, but at least now we can kinda sorta see the edge of the woods. I just want to take a moment to give huge props to the entire ICU staff at Twin Cities Hospital in Templeton, CA.   They are wonderful and have been so kind to our family, never questioning why Brian seems to have so many brothers (only immediate family is allowed in the ICU so anyone that shows up is his "brother") and looking the other way when we have too many people in the room.

But I have to say, now that things are calmer, we've had some time to reflect on the many things we've learned in the past few days.  And after a few glasses of wine last night, my other brother(real, not fake) and sister-in-law came up with all the things we think you need to know if you find yourself in the middle some unfortunate family drama.  We like to call it our Priceless in a crisis list.

1.  Make sure to fill up with gas before entering a 60 mile desolate highway with no gas stations.  And don't forget to update your GPS so it doesn't take you to some abandoned, broken down building instead of a Chevron.

2. When you feel the waterworks coming, head immediately to Perezhilton.com for celebrity gossip.  Reading about Britney's recent vagina waldrobe malfuntion will dry your tears every time.

3. Family emotions in a crisis are like a game of Jenga.   If you are the robot in your family, you better keep your foundation solid or everything will fall apart.  If you need help, see number 2.  People are counting on your emotional unavailability in times like these!

4. Don't give a toothless crack whore with a gas can $20 just because you're desperate for good Karma.  The bitch probably won't even thank you properly.

5. Don't tell your Mom at dinner that she needs to be less emotional because she's killing everyone's buzz.

6.  Make sure your father understands that the spicy buffalo ribeye that he ordered is actually made from buffalo.  And is spicy.  And no you can't send it back.

8.  One half a xany makes you calm, a whole one makes you sleepy and two makes you angry.  Wink twice at me and I'll slip you one when no one is looking.

9. People chew much louder when you are cranky.  And smack their gum like they're in a bad 80's movie.

10.  Don't buy the celery and carrot sticks at the hospital cafeteria for your mom to snack on when cranky. Please see number 9.

11.  Nurses don't think it's funny when they ask you why your brother is fighting his breathing tube so much and you tell them he's always been a spaz.

12. The five pound crisis weight-loss is a myth!  Sitting all day+hospital food=fat ass.

13.  People in the ICU waiting room look at you oddly when you keep asking if they know a word that rhymes with crisis.

14. There is just no basis for wearing a fanny pack.  Ever.  I don't care what you're going through.

15. Don't ever forget to thank all the wonderful people who send their thoughts and prayers to your family when times are tough.(see below)

THANKS!!! Your messages have kept me going these past few days!  My family and I thank you from the bottom of our cold, unemotional hearts!

xoxo Liz

TRAUMA DRAMA by Liz

As some of you may have heard, my oldest brother was in a terrible car accident late Thursday night.  So this blog is coming to you live from the Twin Cities hospital ICU. The good news is that things seem to be looking up and I am very thankful for all your kind thoughts and prayers. Now before you start thinking it's in bad taste to be blogging and Facebooking while my brother is fighting for this life, this is just how I deal.  I come from a long line of emotionally unavailable women(aka living robots) that use humor inappropriately in time of crisis.  And quite frankly, the doctor just wrote us all some Xany and I need to get this blog written before it kicks in!  Even a robot like me could use a little prescription help to get through this.

When the frantic call from my mom came in early Friday morning, I rushed to get ready for the four-hour drive to the Central Coast.  After throwing some mismatched clothes in my overnight bag, (You should see the outfit I'm wearing! horrible! Lucky for me the people in Paso Robles think a fanny pack is fashion forward.)I immediately went to my bookshelf. 

Knowing I would be spending the next several days at his bedside, I was very thoughtful in my book selections.  Not just for myself, but for my family too.  When you go into these situations, you really want to bring something to the table, to feel like you are helping in any small way.  And even if I can't be emotionally sensitive, at least I can provide proper reading material! 

LIZ'S TRAUMA DRAMA BOOK LIST

For my sister-in-law:

1. My Horizontal Life by Chelsea Handler

Obviously, my first thought was comfort for my brother's wife.  What does one read to be distracted from the fact that your husband has a thousand tubes coming out of him? I decided Chelsea's graphic book about her vagina adventures while in her twenties was just the ticket. Also, each chapter stands alone as a short story, making it easy for my sister-in-law to feel like she was accomplishing something each time she finished one.  And I like to think that this small milestone will make her Type A overacheiving-self feel a little bit of control in a situation she has no control over.

For my Mom

2.  One Fifth Avenue by Candace Bushnell

My mom's book choice was bit tougher.  This woman never sits down and spends so much time on her cell phone that I'm surprised it hasn't melded to her ear.  So finding a book that will hold her attention is quite the challenge. I thought this story about the tenants in an upscale building in New York City might just be able to do it. And if she ever gets off the phone I'm going to ask her to take a look at it. 

For the BFF

3. I'll Have Who Have She's Having by Liz Fenton and Lisa Steinke

Of course I brought this too!  What better way to force people to read your book than when they are trapped in a barren ICU waiting room for days at a time?  The funniest part of this is that the BFF is a 50 something guy who picked up our book in desperation last night.  The even funnier part is that he couldn't put it down and keeps peppering me with questions about Kate and Kelly!  But, hey, a fan is a fan.  I'm not picky!

For the beautiful sister(um, that's me, in case you were wondering):

4.  Eclipse by Stephanie Meyer

Although I'm not afraid to admit that Bella and Edward bug the shit out of me sometimes, their werewolf versus vampire teenage angst can really take your mind off what's really going on!  For me, I like my crisis fiction to be as far away from my real life as possible.  Cuz that's how I roll! 

And anything is better than the copy of Arthritis Today on the table that keeps calling my name!

Shame on You, Bachelor! By Lisa

Jason, Jason, Jason... Or should I just call you Douche Bag?

WTF? Really? Follow your heart... no regrets...my ass!

I'm not sure why, but I expected more from you. Sure, you're a reality TV contestant in a contest to find love on a completely unrealistic show where the number one way of getting to know each other is through the sport of hot tubbing, but still, I expected more. From. You.

Now don't get me wrong, I heart the Bachelor (the show, not you). I love the psychoness of the chicks as they get kicked off . I enjoy watching the cattiness of the girls as they fight with each other while also fighting for the Bachelor's love. But if you ask me, the women are just insecure and competitive and don't really want the Bachelor as much as they want to win or be won.

But I love it all. Even the hottubbing. Especially when the Bachelor is hot and as much as I'm annoyed with you, seeing you with your shirt off wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me.  But what I didn't love about you, Jason Mesnick, was that you became a Douche with a capital "D".

I felt for you when DeAnna broke your heart, I really did. I thought you seemed genuine and legit. So when I heard you were the next  Bachelor, I was happy for you. I knew you'd have your pick of "25 ladies" who would find you cute and sweet, just like I did.

But then the show started and you just couldn't stop crying. Dude, is it really that sad to say good bye to a girl you've known for five minutes? WTF with all the waterworks?

And then the kissing that went on? It seemed like you never knew what to say back to every poor girl professing her love so your answer was to kiss her? It became incredibly annoying, but still manageable and certainly not cause to stop watching. I'm proud to say that in all the seasons of the Bachelor, I've never thrown in the towel... even when guys almost Douchey-er than you were the Bachelor (and there were a couple).

And anyway, you didn't fully turn me off until "The Bachelor: After the Final Rose.

I'd seen the promos for the Most dramatic Bachelor ending ever and there you were, crying again... on that balcony. I thought WTF happened now, did he slice his finger on a thorn?

Even after I'd heard on Reality Steve that you were going to dump Melissa and go for Molly and that you knew it all along, (Jury's still out on that BTW because I can't believe that even you'd be that gross- Although now after possible emails between you and Melissa have been uncovered by Access Hollywood, you seem to be anything but accountable--Bachelor Emails), I watched the show anyway. Because I'm a romantic who's had her heart broken many times. Plus, I hoped that the rumors weren't true. Even though my preference was Molly all along. I prayed that you wouldn't break Melissa's heart--especially after what happened to you.

But you did. And not only did you rip her heart out, but you did it on national television. Sure, there wasn't an audience in an effort to "keep it as intimate as possible", as Chris Harrison said, but it was still in front of millions of people. And it was just gross dude. The way you did it, what you said, everything. And yes, I'm totally judging you. Because. I. Can. You put yourself on TV so you are opening yourself up to it, plain and simple.

And for the record, Melissa, you handled yourself with dignity (even when you were told there was a limo waiting outside *gag*) and when you called him a bastard, I sort of did a little cheer for you on my couch. Good call on not appearing on The Bachelor: After the Final Rose, Part 2 and putting yourself through further humiliation. I have no doubt you were asked, begged probably.

So last night, I watched The Bachelor: After the Final Rose, Part 2. And you and Molly, after six weeks, say you're still madly in love. Good for you. Because everyone deserves someone. And if Molly can fall for a Douche, more power to her. And I know you both said that it's been hard because you've been judged (Molly too) for how you acted. But the truth is, we don't know the real story and we may never. I just cross my fingers that you didn't plan to do what you did to Melissa (as the rumors claim) and that you don't do it again to Molly (if simply for the reason that three versions of a proposal in one year would just be wrong, sorry).

There's one more thing I really want to say to you but I won't- believe it or not, I can bite my tongue. Because as judgmental as I feel and as fired up as I am, I'm not going to go there. I think you're douchey enough already without me pointing out another thing that I didn't like. I'll simply say this, I hope you can now focus on your family when the cameras aren't rolling.

PS: You kept the big-toothed, dental hygienist, stalker around for longer than the first rose ceremony why again? Actually, don't answer that because I really don't care.

PRIVACY PLEASE by Liz

I'm not sure what was going on with me last week, but I engaged in some major retail therapy. And I must admit that I've always been a bit of a label whore.  But the problem is I don't like paying for labels.  So I do what any self-respecting cheap-ass label whore does when she's dying to do some shopping-I hightail it to the nearest Loehmann's.

Ahh...Loehmann's.  Where else can you find discounted Rock and Republic jeans, Coach clogs and Hanky Panky underwear all under one roof?  And before you judge, I didn't buy the clogs.  I'm not gonna lie, I was tempted.  They had huge C's on them!  Coach Clogs!  With the Cs!  But then I remembered clogs are out and I don't live in a windmill(Although wouldn't it be cool if I did?) so I passed.

But I think we can all agree what really makes the Loehmann's shopping experience unique are it's communal dressing rooms. Never able to limit myself to just eight selections, I'm always forced to undress with the masses. And even though I've done it literally hundreds of times over the years, I still cringe a bit each time.  Especially when people aren't following standard communal dressing room procedure.

And after what I witnessed last week at the Long Beach Loehmann's, I felt that everyone could benefit from a "personal space" refresher course. Because no one should have to see some of the things I saw.

So get your pen and paper out to take some notes because these are the top five unwritten rules for undressing in front of strangers:

1. Don't look each other in the eye.  In fact, just don't look.  Not even in the mirror's reflection.  Just don't. I'm trying to only have half of me undressed at one time, but there's only so much I can do.  And I might rip something if I do it any faster so stop making me nervous.

2. If you are too good to undress in front of us and insist on standing in line for a room, don't look. And don't shake your head when I put on something a bit too tight.  I thought the tag said M, not XS!  In fact, can you move your prudish ass and go get me the right size? Thank you.

2. Don't speak unless spoken to. We are here to find bargains, not friends.  And what kind of friendship would we have, meeting like this? I need to keep my stretch marks a secret until after the first year at least.

3. Don't offer unsolicited advice. Btw, I don't give a shit if you think this dress "flatters my curvy shape" or that "Pink isn't really my color."  I bit my tongue when you tried on the bright orange Juicy Couture sweatsuit, can't you do the same for me?

4.  Don't get too naked. Please. I'm begging.  Try on your bathing suits in the dressing room.

5.  Please don't crowd me. I need at least one clothes-hanging bar between us. In fact, let's make it two.  We shouldn't be so close that I can see that you missed your last bikini wax. If this sounds like you, please take special note of rule number four.

Good luck and good shopping!  xoxo

Robots Need Love Too By Lisa

Saturday night, my wine and I had another date. (Yes, again! But in my defense, my "manfriend" is halfway across the country.)  I curled up next to my Cabernet to watch a couple of movies that might seem an odd pairing. I know I'd never expect to find Wall-E and Some Kind of Wonderful sold together at Target for $8.99.  Made twenty-two years apart (F**k, time flies!), one animated, one not, one starring robots, one human--but surprisingly similar.

Before I go on, here's a bit of history. I've been run over by the love bus more times than I can count. I have the tire tracks on my ass to prove it! I've been to the war; figuratively knocked down and emotionally put through the ringer. But despite it all, I never lost hope that I'd find someone.

*Cue sappy music track* (I'm thinking Lost in Your Eyes by Debbie Gibson is fitting).

I'm an incurable romantic and optimist who, with the exception of a few choice drunken, pity party for one nights when I vowed to God and The World that I'd "NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER get my heart broken again!" always believed it would happen.

So, back to my "date night". I ordered Wall-E because it's been on my list of movies to see for a while and frankly, it was doubtful that my real-life boyfriend would have agreed to watch it with me anyway. I knew very little about the flick other than it had just won an Academy Award (should've won all six it was nominated for!) and was recently mentioned in an episode of Ugly Betty. "Wall-E, Eee-Va, Wall-E, Eee-Va"--more on that in a minute.

I didn't know what I was expecting, but certainly not a movie where two robots fell in love and, yes, made me cry. In the world of love and romance, the word robot is often used to describe emotionally unavailable people. (Or maybe I've just taken a liking to calling men I've dated who were devoid of emotion--names like "R2 D2" and "C3P0").

Wall-E is a trash compacting robot living basically alone in a trash dump on Earth (his only companion, a roach he takes care of) until Eva arrives. Eva's a much higher tech robot from outer space.  At first, Wall-E's love is unrequited but he eventually breaks through, getting Eva to let her robotic guard down. It begins when they learn each others names "Wall-E" ,"Eee-va","Wall-E" ,"Eee-va" and throughout the movie (don't laugh) it's a mating call of sorts. And it made me cry every time I heard it.

It turns out, Wall-E is a wonderful love story of what can happen after someone (or something) opens his or her robotic (or otherwise) eyes to finally see the person (or machine) who loves them, right in front of them.

This is exactly what happens in Some Kind of Wonderful , recently given to me by a friend who loves to reminisce about trapper keepers, leg warmers and all things 80's even more than I do. I hadn't seen it in a long time but was instantly brought back to the year when the movie came out.

1987. I was a freshman in high school, wearing those red glasses you may have heard about. I sported too much hair gel, a mouth full of silver braces and underarm, I carried my Peechee folders with one unrequited lover's name after another scrolled across them. Wow, it's  funny how quickly the feelings of teenage angst come rushing back.

Many of you (especially those who are old enough to have seen the movie in the theatre- I know I'm not the only one!), will recall that the the plot of Some Kind of Wonderful is about an unpopular guy (Keith) who is so fixated on the popular girl (Amanda) that he fails to see his best girlfriend (Watts) is in love with him. The last line in the movie resonates. After Keith realizes Watts is "the one" and gives her the diamond earrings he'd originally given to Amanda, he says, "My future looks great on you."

Yup, when she heard that, this incurable romantic cried again.

So I recommend that this weekend, you grab your wine or your guy or gal and watch these movies! Especially if you're a wee bit more on the robotic side (not naming any names--Liz Clark Fenton!), you, like Wall-E and Eva, need love too!

BITTER WITH TWITTER By Liz

So I've got a confession.  I'm bitter with Twitter.  It's like Facebook on Acid.

I signed up a month ago and have yet to figure it out. Isn't it just a bunch of never-ending status updates?  And yes, I know that status updates are best part of Facebook.  But I feel like Twitter is cheating-like they've eaten all the yummy white stuff out of my Oreos.

For those of you unfamiliar with Twitter, it works something like this:  I follow people and they follow me.  Get it?  And by follow I mean you are able to read my wannabe Facebook status updates.

So I signed up and found a few people to follow through the email finder. I was on my way!  Wait, why aren't they following me?  Of course!  There has to be some form of social rejection or Twitter wouldn't be fun!   Why don't you want to follow me?  Did I do something wrong?  Aren't you dying to read my once-a-week tweet? Oh, you want them multiple times per day? Sorry! I spend all my energy coming up with witty Facebook status updates!  Isn't that enough?

And forget about finding someone unless you know their Twitter nickname. Seriously, it's virtually impossible. Twitter, if I knew their damn nickname, I wouldn't need to search for them!

And I should have known Twitter would be trouble when I logged in for the first time and saw that most of the tweets were about how people didn't get Twitter. Then, I made a rookie Twitter mistake when I decided to follow Jimmy Fallon.  Why follow Jimmy, you ask?  Well, I've been crushing on him since his SNL days and was too scared to friend him on Facebook.  Twitter felt less committal, less stalker-ish.  Except for that whole following thing. Hmmm, I guess I didn't think that one through.

Anyway, I was saddened to discover that my celeb-crush tweets too much.  Jimmy tweets about everything and everyone.  Really Jimmy? Do we really need to know every detail about your day?  About the berber carpet in your studio? It's a bit much, even for your biggest fan.  I know you're excited about Tweeting via Tweetie, but we need some boundaries.

Lisa kind of almost likes Twitter.  She even went so far as to install Twitter Tools on our blog so we could Tweet. Funny thing is, we can't figure out how to tweet to the blog!  So sorry if you are anxiously waiting to hear Liz and Lisa's sweet tweets each day.  Not going to happen until hear back from our web designer.  He's a big tweeter.  Tweets all the time!

But Lisa would not be stopped on her quest to have a productive relationship with Twitter.  That led her to install a Tweet Roll on our site that shows you all of our followers.  You know, those 12 people that are waiting to hear our daily wisdom via Tweets.  Oh, and she wants me to tell you to click on the Tweetroll link to follow us. Please.

Maybe part of the problem is that Twitter makes me feel old. And irrelevent. It makes me want to say things like, "Those young whippersnappers are all on Twitter!" and "Those Twitter young'uns don't know what's it's like to walk a mile to school in the snow!"  I want to say these things even though I've never walked a mile to school or lived anywhere where it actually snows.

Am I becoming  like my dear mother, who can't figure out how to turn on her DVD player when the kids want to watch Kung Fu Panda?  Is this the first step?  I have a blog, for Christs sake!  Doesn't that make me tech-savvy?

So screw you Twitter because I am relevant!  And soon I will be tweeting like nobody's business!  And then I will dominate you Twitter!  My Tweets will be heard around the world!

Um, just as soon as someone shows me how to do it.

SILVER FOXES By Lisa

So, I was watching "Nights In Rodanthe" over the weekend (save the judgment--you know you've all seen a Nicholas Sparks movie---or four!) and sharing a bottle of wine with, *cough*, myself (again, you know you've been there) and was almost hit over the head with my sudden attraction to Richard Gere.

And, no, it wasn't the wine (ok, maybe just a wee bit). I started looking at him....I mean really looking. I took in his full head of hair (albeit gray), his eyes (especially the crow's feet around them), his face (yeah, the one that starred in "An Officer and a Gentleman" the year I was in the second grade) and, well, suddenly the whole Richard Gere package was just working for me.

I could imagine doing really naughty things with this man who had to be old enough to be my father (yup, just checked his IMDB profile, he is). As I pushed my knowledge of his humanitarian mumbo jumbo and his love of the Dalai Lama to the back of my mind (such a buzz kill), I wished I was his leading lady. I imagined that I was Diane Lane's character, a blanket draped around my shoulders, our bodies touching as we stood on the porch of the bed and breakfast, staring out at the wild sea.

But here's the thing, this wasn't the first Richard Gere movie I'd seen. I don't remember thinking naughty things when I saw him in "Unfaithful" a few years ago. But I do clearly remember daydreaming about Oliver Martinez-- the much younger actor that Diane Lane was doing the nasty with. (Again, so wanting to be her).

So why Richard Gere? Why now? Is it because I'm getting older? It's true I'm about to turn 36 and maybe I've been thinking about that-- a lot.

With each passing year am I going to be more attracted to "older" men and less attracted to the younger ones? I pray not!  I want to be a cougar when I qualify (when is that, BTW?). It's a label I'll proudly wear.  

But the question is--can I have desires for males on both sides of the age hemisphere? Can I simultaneously lust after the picture of my current boyfriend at age 19 (like when his shirtless photo was posted on Facebook last week) and a man who watched Neil Armstrong land on the moon on live TV? 

When I told Liz about my lust for Richard Gere, she proudly exclaimed that she thinks Tom Selleck is just as hot now as he was when he starred in Magnum, P.I. twenty nine years ago. (Incidentally, dear 'ol Tom is four years older than Richard, but who's counting?). 

So what other distinguished gentleman would star in my personal fantasy?... Of course there's Pierce Brosnan (who you might be shocked to learn is 56!-- I know I am!), Harrison Ford (when did Indiana turn 67?) and, of course, George Clooney (almost 50--but I'm convinced he'll still be hot when he's 85!).

So next time People's Sexiest Man Alive is a silver fox, we should all pay more attention. As far as I'm concerned, gray is the new black.

GOING OVERBOARD BY LIZ

Forgive me, I'm going to get on my soapbox for a moment. While out to dinner with friends last night, the talk turned to education.  We discussed assessments, interviews, essays, applications and top-secret interactive spreadsheets for hours.  My head was ready to explode by the time the check came.

Now I know what you are thinking...I look way too young to have a college-bound child.(Or at least you better be thinking that!) So then you might throw up a little bit in your mouth when I tell you that the above mentioned things are all for entrance to KINDERGARTEN!!!

Yes, you heard that right-kindergarten.  Apparently choosing the right one is a life or death decision these days. I've always told myself I wouldn't be one of those parents who does a PowerPoint presentation for their kid's preschool assignment and for the most part, I'm not.  I really do try to keep things in perspective.

But what I underestimated was the influence of other parents.  It's almost impossible not to get worked up into a frenzy when your mom friends are going overboard. I seem to be the only one who hasn't put together a spreadsheet detailing everything from test scores to lead analysis of the drinking fountains.  And this information is protected with vigor from lazy moms like myself that don't love their kids enough to spend hours on the computer researching and analyzing every last detail.

Maybe I am lazy, but part of me feels like it's because I love my kids so much that I refuse to give in to this craziness.  To believe that my child's entire future is dependent on whether she attends the right kindergarten.  That she'll end up as some crackwhore living on the streets if I send her to the public school a block away rather than the private one with the shiny brochure and pricey tuition.

Maybe my view stems from the simplicity of my childhood, growing up in a small town in San Diego.  My parents would throw my two older brothers and I in the backseat of our enormous yellow Buick and take off. No car seats or seat belts-this was the 70's people! Then we would speed down the street to school.  Once there, we would play on "The Fort", a ridiculously dangerous wood monstrosity on the playground that was torn down in the mid-80's after the school district finally declared it unsafe.  After that, I would walk home with my brothers to our unlocked house and they would torture me until my Mom got home that evening. Yes, the world has changed a lot since then, but I'm still trying to find some sort of balance between the values of the two eras.  And I like to think that I turned out pretty decent.  I may not be able to locate North Dakota on a map or balance the checkbook well, but for the most part, the California state school system did right by me.

The bottom line is that we need to remember no matter what school our kids attend, it's their values and determination that shapes who they become.  Although my parents may have put me in mortal danger each time I got in a car with them, they taught me to be independent and that I can achieve anything if I'm willing to work hard.

So Spreadsheet Moms of the world, cut moms like me a little slack.  We have a five-point plan too, it's just a little different from yours.  And if my daughter does end up a crackwhore, I officially give you permission to say "I told you so!" But only after you make a spreadsheet for me detailing all the best rehabs.

A DIRTY MARTINI WITH A SIDE OF FACEBOOK By Lisa

I guess you could say my "signature cocktail" is a slightly dirty Grey Goose martini with extra olives. Made right, it can make you swoon with delight as you savor the taste of the perfect blend of vodka and olive juice in your mouth. So, at a party over the weekend I thought to myself, "What better to pair with my favorite drink than my favorite conversation topic--Facebook?" I've obviously made no secret that I'm a total Facebook whore who's now made a hobby out of collecting friends. My latest offense was just yesterday when I was sent a friend request by someone I'd never met and with whom I had no mutual friends. An automatic "ignore" for most, but not for me. Instead of rejecting this prospective friend, I made an inquiry. Had this man from South Africa meant to friend me? It turns out, he hadn't. He was looking for another person with the same name.

You might be thinking, "Yeah, right, like there's another Lisa Steinke out there that he meant to friend?  Please. This guy probably just wanted to get in your pants!" (Well at least that's what my boyfriend would say!) Well, it turns out that there is in fact another Lisa Steinke out there. She lives in the Midwest and I happen to already be friends with her. A few weeks ago, I thought it would be funny to friend someone of the same name. Since it's always about the status report, I could see it in my mind...Lisa Steinke is now friends with Lisa Steinke.

Well apparently the other Lisa Steinke liked the idea because she swiftly accepted me and even beat me to the punch with her own status report. I was curious now that I knew we shared a name and a sense of humor. Did we have more in common? I went to her page to find out. I discovered that she belonged to a group called, "You Know You're In The Steinke Family When..."

Oh, how exciting, I thought. I wonder if other Steinke families are like mine.

But after reading the first point, "You can't leave a family reunion without hugging and kissing everyone twice", I laughed. It wasn't an LOL situation like many of you are so fond of. It was more of an outward chuckle--more of a COL, if you will. In MY Steinke family, we're lucky if we even smile at each other when we accidentally pass on the street! And we certainly would never have a,*cough*, family reunion.

But I really digress.... So, back to the man in South Africa. Even after discovering he wasn't intending to friend me, I friended him anyway. Afterall, I didn't have any friends on that continent yet.

And these are the stories I was thinking of as the conversation at the party inevitably turned to Facebook. There was an article in last week's Time Magazine about how the boomers are all over Facebook. Damn right! Although not a boomer myself, I'm certainly no spring chicken. I'm rounding the corner to 36 so of course I'm going to defend the "older" folk who want to be part of a social network. There's plenty of room for everyone- even you Mom- I'm waiting!

So, when a 49-year-old woman began to tell me a story about Facebook, my ears perked up. I took a sip of my glorious martini and gave her my undivided attention.  She explained that recently some of her high school classmates had found her. She didn't understand why, after thirty years, they now wanted to see what she was "up to"... In fact, she wrote each of them a note that said if they were REALLY interested in forming a connection with her, they could call her on the phone. What a novel concept.

I was surprised to hear that 3 out of the 4 classmates did in fact call. I stood there in shock and took a bite out of my olive. I certainly wouldn't have called had I been one of those classmates and I told this woman as much. I said, "I have to be honest, that although I respect your position, I feel the complete opposite. I enjoy getting notes from former classmates and people I haven't seen in two decades... but would NEVER want to hear their voices!"  That would just be taking it entirely too far.

I knew I sounded like an a-hole, but it was the truth. The best part of Facebook is the fact that you can keep up with people without having to write more than a sentence or two on their wall. It doesn't mean I don't give a sh** about them, it just means I give more of a sh** about my own time.

Throughout the night, I heard myself saying to the other partygoers, "I'll be sure to tag you in that photo" and "I'm going to friend you tomorrow!" Sentences I would never have put together before I lost my Facebook virginity three months ago. Sentences that are completely part of my vernacular now.

The day after the party as I was uploading the photos to Facebook, I thought about the woman who told me the stories about her high school classmates. Suddenly, I desperately wanted to be her Facebook friend. Not only because she clearly played hard to get, but because I liked her style. She wasn't going to accept just anyone. If I could get into her exclusive club of friends, I would be cool. So, I sent her a message and told her how nice it was talking with her and getting to know her and I left it at that. (Honestly, I promise you that, a-hole or not, I really did like her and meant what I wrote). A few hours later, that little red notification symbol popped up and, wah lah, a friend request!

The perfect martini coupled with a new Facebook friend.

That, my Facebook and non-Facebook friends, is what I call a successful night.

FACEBOOK REJECTION CONFESSION BY LIZ

I was laughing last week as Lisa came out of the closet, proclaiming herself a Facebook whore.  Was it only three months ago that I was begging her to join? I fondly remember my first few days on Facebook last July.  The randomness of  being able to friend your mom, your boss, the guy who took your virginity all at the same time held a lot of appeal to me.

At first I was a bit shy.  I would troll around in cyberspace for hours, wishing my exes didn't have such common names so they'd be easier to find.  Why hadn't I dated less Smiths and Jones?

But once I did find these people, I was happy to see that they were  just as curious to find out what I'd been up to for the past 10-20 years.  They were probably dying to know if I'd finally figured out how to use a tweezers and a straightening iron. (FYI, I did, but only after a intervention by my friend Heather.)

As my friend list grew, I became drunk with the power of finding every ghost of my past.  I began to friend with abandon, adding everyone from from my  high school nemesis to a fellow mom at my kid's preschool. I was unstoppable!

Until I found Gappy McGapperson.(Not his real name, obviously.)

I met Gappy my junior year of college.  Let me make one thing clear, just in case his name doesn't do him justice. He was not cute. At all.  He was a  Kurt Cobain wannabe with a huge gap between his front teeth and helmet hair.

But he'd transferred in from another school and immediately started dating a very cute girl. So everyone thought he was hotter than he really was. Then he dogged that cute girl. Real bad.  And the rest is history.  I had to have this gap-toothed asshole for my own.

Like a lot of us, I had a secret fantasy that I would one day tame a "bad boy".  That although no other woman had been able to break him of his drunken, tardy(I'm so anal about time that I consider this bad boy behavior), dogging ways before me.  I had visions of people toasting about it at our wedding...I would become a legend to insecure woman with daddy issues all around the world!

And this secret fantasy led me to date the biggest jackasses on earth until I finally realized that it's okay to let yourself love a nice guy.  They make great husbands!

Anyway, I digress.  So long story short, I dated Gappy for a New York minute.  We had big plans to attend my sorority formal the week after spring break.  Formal was the place I was going to show him that I was the girl that would change his life forever! But my dreams were crushed when he proceeded to mack on at least ten other girls in Mexico on Spring Break.  In front of all my friends.  With some of my friends!

Needless to say, that was the end for Gappy and me.  The toast at our wedding just wasn't in the cards now, even if he did beg for me back and  pledge his undying love.  I was hurt, humiliated and frustrated with myself for letting the fact that he was a "bad boy" make me forget how gross he was.

Fast forward to last month.  I'm cruising Facebook while watching Grey's Anatomy and decide I have time to peruse the millions of  pages from my college graduating class.  It had been a while since I'd made a great Facebook "find" and I was anxious to discover someone interesting from my past.

And there he was!  Gappy McGapperson.

Okay, so I know what you're all thinking.  OF COURSE I want him to take a look at my profile and feel regret that he let me slip away.  That if  he had just been patient and pointed me in the direction of Weight Watchers and a good hair stylist, we could've really had something.  I wanted him to see my incredibly tall, handsome husband,(Gappy wasn't too tall and I think we've established he had a dog-face.) and beautiful children and say, "Damn! She could've been mine!"

So, without having tasted Facebook rejection yet, I confidently hit the "Add Friend" button and wrote a short note. Something like. "OMG, hey Gappy!  It's Liz!  How the hell are you!"

And then I waited.

And waited.

AND WAITED SOME MORE...

After a couple of weeks, I dropped back in on Gappy to see what was going on and saw that I had been REJECTED!  That's right.  The friend request was gone, I had been ignored.

Basically, Facebook's version of the middle finger.

Really Gappy? Really?  You're not even a wee bit curious what I've been up to?  If you would just add me as a friend you would see that the tables are turned. Now I'm too good for you!

And I'm not gonna lie.  The rejection stung.  All of a sudden it was 1995 all over again when my roommates sat me down and detailed Gappy's extracurricular activities in San Felipe.  And then all the scrambling I had to do the next week to find a formal date that hadn't publicly humiliated me. (Much harder to do than you might think!)

So I've been a bit shy on the Facebook trigger since then.  I've found another "bad boy" from the past but I'm just going to have to wait it out for him to friend me and discover I was the best thing that almost happened to him.

*big sigh*

GREAT FRIENDS+GOOD WINE=FUN NIGHT!

Thank you so much to everyone that came out to support us last night at The Main Street Wine Cellar in Seal Beach.  There was a tremendous turnout! We had such a great time that we ended up closing down the place!  Everyone loved the venue and raved about the food and service.  It has a great vibe and I highly recommend checking it out if you're in the area.  Tell them Lisa and Liz sent you!  Thanks again to owners Danny And Chris for hosting the event.

If you were not able to make it last night, don't worry!  We will be having another one very soon...stay tuned for details!

BOOK SIGNING FRIDAY 2-13

If you live locally or feel like traveling to Seal Beach (not a half-bad place to visit!), please join us this Friday, February 13th @ Main Street Wine Cellar for our first book signing soiree! Moms & dads--call your sitters--you need a night out!

"Singles", "in relationships", whatever your story is--we'd love you to join us!

We'll have copies of our book and the backdrop will be a hip wine bar. What better combination than books & wine is all we have to say!

Friday February 13th 6-7:30pm

Main Street Wine Cellar 302 Main Street Seal Beach

Main Street Wine Cellar

Hope to see you there!

A Girlfriend for all Seasons by Liz

Last week wasn't a great week for me.  Usually pretty even-tempered(or so I like think!), I found myself over-thinking my ass off. My mind was racing, so I did what any self-respecting woman does in that situation. I picked up the phone to call a friend. But as I stared at my speed-dial choices on my cell, it got me thinking about how each friend plays a certain role in my life and when in crisis, I unconsciously weigh these attributes before deciding who to call first.

Since then, I've been putting a lot of thought into the types of friends we have and what makes them so special.

Disclaimer to my girlfriends: I feel I must put a disclaimer to my girls here so my cell doesn't light up like a Christmas tree the minute I post.  They'll say, "Is that me?" or "WTF? I'm not like that!"  The point here is that great friends  possess many of these qualities.  And making this list made me realize how lucky I am to have such diverse women in my life and that they always seem to know which "friend" I need when in crisis.  And since I tend to be slightly emotionally unavailable at times, this is my way of celebrating how much they mean to me.

A GIRLFRIEND FOR ALL SEASONS

1. THE TOUGH TALKER

I'm listing this friend first because I think at the end of the day, this person has the most impact on your life.  I have a theory that each of us have someone that can say things to us that no one else can.  And the tricky part is knowing when your friend is ready to have her ass handed to her.  Because if she's not ready, prepare yourself for major tears and drama.

I tend to be more of a "Candy Coater" (more on that later) but will admit I am a Tough Talker from time-to time. And I think my friends realize that if I'm tough talking them, things have gotten pretty bad!  But seriously, a good tough talk can change your life.

2. THE CANDY COATER

This is the friend you call when you just want to feel better.  In some situations, the truth can wait till next week!  And yes, I tend to play this role often because I can't bear to see anyone feeling bad.  Is that wrong?

I know that I never appreciated the Candy Coater more than after I had my son.  I was exhausted and was carrying an extra 30lbs but each time Lisa saw me she said those magical words each post-prego wants to hear, "You look like you've lost weight!"  and "You don't look tired at all!"  God bless you Lisa!  She was lying, I knew she was lying, but I didn't care.  It made me feel better that she loved me enough to say it anyway.

3. THE 9-5ER

I've had quite a few of these over the years.  She bursts onto the scene and soon you are talking to her 2-3 times a day.  Your other friends might get a bit jealous until they realize that she's a 9-5er. That the only times you see her off-hours is a work-related happy hour or business trip.  Because Friday at 5pm, you both go off to your respective lives, reconnecting again Monday at 9am.  I've promoted some 9-5ers to night and weekend status, but it's rare.  More often than not, once they leave the company we have a hard time finding common ground and slowly drift apart.

4. PROBLEM SOLVER aka ACTION TAKER

Whew! Don't call this girl when you just want to bitch.  She is ready to create a five-point action plan to solve any problem you encounter.  Calling to vent about your job?  She's redoing your resume as you speak and assembling an impressive list of recruiters.  Angry at your boyfriend?  She's already got three blind dates set up.  But, she means well and her task-oriented friendship can really come in handy sometimes.

5. THE BULLDOG

No one messes with you when this chick's around. I highly recommend having at least one Bulldog bridesmaid when you get married.  She runs interference with all the people that might send you over the edge that day.  She stands sentry at your door, protecting you from all the little things that don't matter and deals with your future in-laws.  And if someones screws you over she's the first one to get up in their face.  But don't get too close, she might bite!

6. THE GIRLFRIEND

Every once in a while I'll meet a girl who I just can't get enough of.  It may sound lame, but I just love this girl.  She's so cool. She wears MAC makeup?  You find yourself at Nordstrom the next day trying to recreate her exact palette.  She wears adorable sundresses?  You're at Banana Republic trying to find the perfect wrap-around.  You get so excited to have lunch with her, what pearls of wisdom is she going to reveal today?  Admit it, you all have one of these!

7. MOM FRIEND

Every mom needs a Mom Friend who "gets" them.  And not just any mom will do. This needs to be someone who won't judge you, someone you can tell all your deepest, darkest Mommy secrets.  Like the fact that you let your kids watch five hours of TV in a row so you can finish "Twilight".  Not that I did that.  Just an example.

So there you have it...Next time you have a bad week and are staring at your speed-dial, just take a moment to be thankful for the all wonderful woman you have in your life!

MUSINGS ABOUT MY MUSES by Lisa

You know how they say, "write what you know?" Well, when Liz and I decided to write our book, it wasn't hard to figure out what I knew way too much about. I, being in my mid-thirties and still single, had an over-flowing well of knowledge about bad dates and broken relationships. There were many nights after a train wreck of a date, when I’d fall heavy into my bed, swimming in a sea of self-pity. And as the effects of the one too many glasses of wine would begin to wear off, I’d wish I could forget it ever happened.

But at some point-- the next day or sometimes the next month, depending on whether I felt I was winning or losing the battle on the front lines of the single woman’s war, I’d eventually find the things I could laugh about. I think there was a part of me that always knew I’d use those lousy Match.com encounters or the blind dates gone bad to my advantage. 


So, to all the men who lied to me (5’10” isn’t 6 feet gentlemen), disappointed me (is chivalry dead? My last name’s Stein-ke, not Stein-em) or just plain shocked the hell out of me (did you really just stick your tongue down my throat? To channel Carrie Underwood, “I don’t even know your last name!”), THANK YOU. For without all of you and the fodder you provided, our book wouldn’t have been possible. 

Disclaimer:  It takes two to tango and there are two sides to every story, blah, blah, blah…I also don't have anything against the height challenged, hair challenged or men in general.

The False Advertiser

Mr. Bait and Switch and I met on Match.com a few times. I’m embarrassed to say I had to learn the hard way more than once that you shouldn’t spend a lot of time trying to get to know a guy before you meet him in person. It probably sounds shallow, but nine times out of ten when you do finally come face to face after long, flirtatious conversations about your hopes and dreams, you’re disappointed because you aren’t looking at the Greek god you’ve built him up to be in your mind. Looking back now, I can scream at myself, “No sh**, Sherlock! What did you expect from a dude who posted a picture in a baseball cap and sunglasses while standing in the shadows?”

But back then, *cue the violins* I was just a girl trying to catch a break; hoping to find someone to spend my life with. So, the person on the other end of that phone line would transform into Brad Pitt and I’d turn into the sap that day dreamed about our future transcontinental life with seventeen babies.

The problem I had with these guys is that I was basing my fantasies about them on LIES. They were dishonest about who they were. There is a form you fill out when you create your online profile.  You answer questions like, how tall are you? how old are you? do you have hair?  And as far as I’m concerned, you should answer them honestly  because eventually the truth is going to come out.

I’d love to know what these guys were thinking my reaction was going to be when we actually met. What was going through the bald guy’s mind as he sauntered into the bar, all Mr. Clean-like, head gleaming as it caught the light above? Or the five foot eight-incher who hadn’t expected me to wear heels? And what about the forty-year old who sheepishly admitted he wasn’t really thirty-seven? Maybe they were rolling the dice thinking if they won me over on the phone, they might have a shot. Believe me, it would’ve been great to say I was five years younger or to have posted Angelina Jolie’s picture instead of my own, but we weren’t creating avatars, we were advertising ourselves! And in the end, who’s ever satisfied with false advertising?

Bottom heavy Barry


I don't even have to tell you about the date. I'll just tell you how he got his name. I met him on the first flight I ever got drunk on. He was so funny and smart that by the end of the three and a half hour journey, I'd agreed to go out with him. But when I saw him at the baggage claim, I discovered that he had an ass the size of Kansas. I still went out with him because I wanted to prove to myself that a fat ass didn't matter... but it turns out that I couldn't see past it--literally.

Two lessons learned. #1- never agree to a date with someone sitting down (remember when Samantha from Sex and the City said yes to the cocky guy on the barstool but later discovered he shopped in the Juniors department?)

#2-never drink and fly if you're lonely.

Kevin with a “C”

I met Kevin with a “C” on that first night out after a bad break up when you convince yourself you’re ready to get back out there. But of course, you’re never ready which is why I thought I saw something in Cevin.

I’d just cut bangs and after introducing himself as Kevin with a “C”, he told me that he’d always wanted a California girl with my hairstyle. That should be where this story ends, but it’s only the beginning my friends. So after more compliments that my bruised ego and I gobbled up with a spoon, some small talk about where we lived—he was in Hermosa Beach- oh so was I, what street?-and letting him buy my girlfriends and I a round of cocktails, we exchanged phone numbers. 

Cevin was tall, good looking and seemed nice. But Cevin had a secret. Not a Brokeback Mountain kind of secret but a pretty big one still. After a week, I hadn’t heard from him, so I gave him a call. I asked him point blank why he hadn’t called.

“I have two daughters, they live with me and I have full custody,”  he said quickly like you do when you’re a little kid trying to say something three times fast.

“And?” I asked.

He said there wasn’t an “and” but he figured that was going to be a red flag for me and that’s why he hadn’t called. He said he didn’t tell me at the bar because that’s not something you blurt out after you buy someone a mojito. I agreed.

My issue with Cevin was not that he had children.  It’s what I saw when I went back to his place at the end of our date. Yes, I went home with him but nothing happened! (I swear! Get your mind out of the gutter.) I walked in and his five and six year-old daughters were sleeping on the sectional couch. I wondered if they’d fallen asleep while watching a movie. How cute, I remember thinking. He paid the babysitter and then asked me if I wanted a tour. That’s when I discovered that he was sleeping in the master and only bedroom. I asked him about this and he said he planned to eventually move and get a bigger place where they could have a room. 

That’s when the big bright red flag sprung up out of the shag carpeting of his 700 square foot bachelor pad. During the “tour” I also learned that his only means of transportation was a convertible and I almost lost my mind when he told me his daughters rode in the front seat, but they were always belted in! What? That’s when I knew it was time for me to exit this mis-prioritized guy’s apartment…and life.

I was surprised when he called six months later to ask me out again. I declined but hoped he’d moved or at the very least now had a car with a backseat. Then, a few months later, I saw him walking out of the same apartment with his daughters and all I could hope was that he’d figured out he’s the one who belonged on the couch.

 We’ve all been there. We'd love to hear your dating antecdotes!  

I'll Have Who She's Having

We just got the call that I'll Have Who She's Having is finally here and available for purchase at the Makdan site and Amazon.com! Here are the links:

http://www.makdanpublishing.com/proddetail.asp?prod=280601295

OR

http://www.amazon.com/Ill-Have-Who-Shes-Having/dp/0981928315/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1233356463&sr=8-2

We are so excited!  We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.  Don't forget to stop by Amazon to write a review after you finish!

Shoulders pads and skorts by Liz

A couple of weeks ago  I was flipping through the millions of channels on my TV and almost squealed out loud when I saw that the movie Clueless was on! It's one  of my all-time favorites and as watched it, I found myself once again caught up in Cher's world.  I was laughing my ass off as she and Dionne attemped to make over Tai and had tears in my eyes when she finally came to her senses and hooked up with Josh.  And btw,  I've been in love with Paul Rudd ever since the first time I saw him in this movie.  I was happy to see he hasn't aged a day!

But what really struck me as I watched Clueless was how the movie made me feel.  I was instantly transported to 1994 and was almost expecting my college roommates  to roll in any minute wearing polo shirts and penny loafers  to sit down and watch with me!  I also winced at the memory of people always saying I looked like Tai, but I always told myself that they were referring to the post makeover version.

That night, I started thinking about all the other movies that pinpoint a certain period in my life. Movies that instantly conjure up a vivid memory(good or bad or even really horrible) and transport you there, almost like a time machine!

So after careful consideration, here are my top "time machine" movies:

1. Sixteen Candles/Pretty in Pink/Some Kind of Wonderful/Breakfast Club (1984-1987)

I'm lumping all the John Hughes films together because they all represent the same era.  I clearly remember being dropped off by my Mom at the movies in eighth grade to watch Pretty in Pink with all the cool girls and hoped that they wouldn't notice how badly I wanted to fit in.

And I totally developed my "Prince Charming" complex from Jake.  I spent most of the 90's waiting for my night in shining armor to pull up in his 911 Porche and sweep me off my feet.

And when "If You Were Here" by the Thompson Twins (btw,whatever happened to them?) plays at the end as Samantha blows out her candles, I think we all heaved a sigh of relief that the geeky girl got the guy.  It gave us all hope that we could have a Jake of our own someday.

2. Heathers(1988)

Those were the days of shoulder pads and skorts!  And looking back, who the hell thought it would be a good idea  for women look like linebackers?  I can only speak for myself, but adding any kind of volume to my clothes at that time was a very bad idea!

I'm embarrassed to admit that Lisa and I used to quote this movie incessantly in high school, our favorite one being "What's your damage, Heather?"  We even went as far as to decide which Heather we were.  I was pleased to be crowned the yellow Heather and our friend LaSundra never walked taller than the day we bestowed the Red Heather label to her.

This movie always reminds me of the special friendships I had in high school.  And I'm proud to say that those same girls are still a part of my life!  But unlike the characters in Heathers, we were able to make it through senior year without trying to murder each other and blow up the school.  But just barely!

3. Two Moon Junction(1988)

Okay, so let's first all admit that we've seen this naughty movie about a hot girl who runs off and has an affair with some drifter guy. Lisa would rent the tape and sneak it in so we could try to figure what the big deal was about that sex thing everyone was always talking about.   Because we certainly weren't watching this movie for the plot!  In fact, I couldn't remember a damn thing  until I googled it for this blog.  And I've never been able to look  at Sherilyn Finn without thinking about what a bad girl she was in this movie!

It reminds me of being a curious and insecure girl just trying to figure it all out.  And now that I have a daughter of my own, it horrifies me think that one day she might use a movie like Two Moon Junction as Sex Ed 101!

4. Wayne's World(1992)

Wayne's World came out my freshman year of college and it always reminds me of how exciting it was to be away from home for the first time.  In fact, I remember grabbing a six pack of  Zimas (of course I had a fake ID! Thank you Valerie Saylor!) and sneaking them into the theater to watch this movie for the third time and see if it would be funnier if we were drunk.  In case you were wondering, it was!

5. The Bodyguard (1992)

Wow, did Lisa and I love this movie!  We were living together in college and we must have watched it fifty times and regularly rocked out to the soundtrack in our living room, using anything we could find as microphones for our concert.

I loved Whitney(Damn you Bobby Brown for ruining her!) and Kevin Costner's brooding bodyguard character was so yummy!  This movie always reminds me of that silly side of myself that I never want to lose.

6. The Fugitive (1993)

The Fugitive was the first movie I went to see by myself. Earlier in the day, I had gotten in a huge fight with my roommates (I can't remember what about, maybe I accused them of stealing my scrunchie?) and stormed out.  After making a dramatic phone call to them from a pay phone, I hid out at the movies for a couple of hours before heading back, my tail between my legs.

7. She's All That (1999)

This movie came out the week after my long-term boyfriend and I  broke up and I can never hear the song "Kiss Me" or see this movie without thinking about it. I can still vividly remember feeling heartbroken, terrified and hopeful all at the same time.

8. Pulp Fiction (1994)

I don't like this movie.  At all.  But my husband loves it and he screened it for me on our third date.  And even though I hated every minute of it, I acted liked I loved it every single time we watched it. And I even laughed every time he quoted that stupid Quarter Pounder with Cheese line from the movie.  Pulp Fiction lovers know which one I'm talking about.  Don't make me repeat it!

The thing is, I didn't pretend to like it because I wanted him to like me, I pretended to like it because that's when I realized that I loved him.  I've since admitted that I hate Pulp Fiction(much to his disappointment) but it always reminds me of that exciting feeling when you realize you've found someone you can love for the rest of your life!

So there you have it people!  These are the movies that have defined my life thus far.  What are yours?