And So It Begins

So today is the day. Thirty consecutive days of posts. I think I'm up to the challenge, though I can't promise any level of quality for thirty days in a row.

The two big hurdles I see are Thanksgiving (can you say turkey coma?) and the business trip I have in a couple of weeks. Business trips of course mean cocktails. So here's a question (or three)...is it better to miss a day during NaBloPoMo or to engage in drunk blogging? Is it possible to booty blog? Maybe more likely to booty comment, huh? If you get comments from me on your blog any time between the 15th and the 17th and I'm telling you how hot your posts are, just copy and paste it back to me so I can die a thousand deaths of embarrasment. Cause I would understand and expect it. What good is a drunk person if you can't make fun of them?

Please excuse me while I step into the other room to turn off the Little Einsteins DVD that seems to be stuck on the menu screen--playing that blasted song over and over and over again.

Ahh, relative quiet.

While the Little Einsteins are in theory great, and not so bad when you have to sit through them, I can't help but be pissed every time I think about how much money that Julie what's her toes made off of some badly filmed sock puppets. How the HELL did she convince Disney to buy her little fiefdom? And why the HELL did every mother my age (myself included) feel compelled to buy those tapes/DVDs for their children?

Because it kept them quiet for twenty minutes in a row!

Mr. 4 first exhibited his Y gene trait of TV tunnel vision at six weeks whenever Baby Mozart was slipped into the VCR (yeah we were late to get on the DVD train). Just enough time to shove a plate full of dinner into my face before it was time to feed him once again.

Okay, so maybe that woman deserves a Nobel prize.