When I first saw the headline Body Found in Suitcase, it made me chuckle. Not because death is funny. Nor are suitcases funny. Generally speaking, neither are bodies in suitcases, but it reminded me of a weird story I read (and then subsequently blogged) about when I was in Miami a couple of years ago.

Anyway, turns out, this story really isn't funny. The story relays how they think this grandfather killed his granddaughter and put her in this suitcase. Sad. Very sad. More than sad - tears at my heart in places that I thought were dead (or nonexistent). But that's not really what this blog posting is about. What it is about is the horribly written article. I've read it several times and I'm still confused. Here are the paragraphs that are confusing:

The girl's parents lived together in France, where Rose was born. But when the couple went to meet Pizem's father in Israel, Renault fell in love with the grandfather.

Pizem went back to France and took the girl with him, but Renault said she suspected he abused her and brought her back to Israel, where she bore two daughters with Ron.

Uh. HUH?!?

Bear with me while I work this out:
Rose=the poor little deceased girl
Marie-Charlotte Renault=Rose's mom
Benjamin Pizem=Rose's Dad
Roni Ron *cough*stripper name*cough*=Rose's Grandfather & Benjamin Pizem's Father

So, here's my confusion from the paragraphs above:
1. Did the mom fall in love with her husband's father or her husband's grandfather?
2. Who did the mom suspect was abused?
3. Who "bore" two daughters with the grandfather? The little girl or Renault (the mom)?

Here's a little tip for Ian Deitch (the journalist):
Dude, next time either a) Use less pronouns, b) Provide the genealogy tree, or c) have someone else translate the article into English. (or D-ALL OF THE ABOVE).

(Hey, they're just suggestions...)

Seriously, this is so why I just watch the Travel Channel and leave everything else alone...

In an effort to accomplish SOMETHING on my goal list (like #11), I went searching for some mommy-and-me-play-group thing to join.

I know, how soccer mom of me.

Actually? It has to do more with the fact that Ella's getting sick of me and I'm, well, running out of ways to entertain her. I see it in her face sometimes when she gives me that baby SIGH with "YOU AGAIN?!?! Seriously, we need to get more variety in our lives" look on her face.

So I ran across a pretty cool site online - Meetup.com. There are groups - or people waiting to join groups - for anything and everything. I mean ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. I have a pretty open mind and try not to judge other people and their lifestyles (OK, I said TRY), but get a load of some of the things I ran across while browsing the groups:

• Space Exploration? Yep, group for that.
• Interested in Transhumanism (or, er, learning what it is)? Sure, group for that.
• Pagen Parenting? Shudder, but yes, there's a group for you.
• Still into Dungeons and Dragons? (I mean, who can believe?!?!) But, OK, sure, your group is waiting.
• Interested in Cocktails? OF COURSE! I mean, yes there's a group. (And, it wasn't specific enough - is this about MAKING or CONSUMING?!? For fear of being put into the wrong group, I didn't join).
• VAMPIRES?!? There is a group for VAMPIRES.

So did I find a mommy group? Well, I tried. There was a group called "HIP MOMS". I consider myself semi-hip, so I go to the description only to find? Apparently they aren't interested in someone with my advanced maternal age because "...moms 20 to 30 years just seem to work best."

Uh. OK...

I "applied" to another area group with more relaxed standards, but didn't hear back. Maybe it's because of my Swoopy Mowhawk Kid in the picture I posted?!? I mean SERIOUSLY, people who think they are VAMPIRES can have a group, but I can't even get an email back to be invited into the MOMMY GROUP?

My life sucks way more than I thought.

So I have thick naturally curly hair. At one point, it was LOOOOONG thick curly hair. It only makes sense that I would birth a daughter with thick naturally curly hair, right?

WRONG.

Instead? I birthed a Swoopy. My daughter's hair is paper-thin...wispy, even. AND? It is only growing on the top. On one side more than the other, so that it "SWOOPS" over and up. I seriously nicknamed her Swoopy and we call her that. (Yeah, I know, she'll appreciate THAT when she's 13. Oh well, another reason to go on Oprah).

Pretty soon it will be a full-on Mohawk. And then? I will look like one of those weirdo parents who do asinine things to their infants. People already stop me on the street REGULARLY and ask how we get her hair like that. My newest answer?

"Lots and lots of AquaNet."
(Do they still make that stuff?!?)

As I write this post, I have only 19 days, 2 hours and 1 minute left until the end of my MAFE. As I look around the house (my office specifically), panic is staring to set in. This is one my #1 goal right now. I really don't want to let go. This is important to me. I'm letting a lot ride on this. Like, if I fail at this then there's no hope for getting the rest of my life in order. And, there's a preset garage sale date at the end. Which means that if I don't clean it out, it just ain't goin' (and THAT is NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN.).

I know, 19 days seems like a lot of time, but it's really not. Not when you have 7 rooms and closets LEFT to completely go through, declutter and reorganize. In addition to 3 businesses. And 4 animals. And a 7 month old. I definitely haven't gotten as far along as I wanted. (I'm blaming that on my husband being gone on a business trip from a Tuesday through the following Monday and my total nervous breakdown in there somewhere).

Anyway...back on it.

Today? The kitchen and kitchen pantry.
I mean, when was the last time I used that espresso machine, anyway?!? (Hellllooo? The 1990s called and they want their espresso machine back!).

If you're lucky, SOME DAY I might post the before and after decluttering pictures for you. It will make you feel REALLY REALLY good about yourself. And who doesn't want to feel better about themself by making fun of other people?

EXACTLY.

BACKGROUND:
When we first acquired Ninja Cocaine Kitty last year, he was just a confused scared little kitty. He was so small that he would try to "nurse" on Todd's goatee or on my ear. He would crawl up on my shoulder and latch himself in a jaw death grip to my ear lobe and try to nurse. He tried this for months and months after we got him and finally he grew out of it. He will still try it on occasion (which makes me sad and I say, "OOOHHH LOOOOK...he must miss his MOMMMMMY", completely forgetting that he just randomly Ninja flung himself at me mere moments ago).

FAST FORWARD TO THIS WEEK:
Ella is fascinated with our pets (2 dogs, 2 cats), which is sad because they want nothing to do with her (the spectrum varies from mild disinterest to complete loathing on their part). This week, Freddie (AKA: Ninja Cocaine Kitty) has been hanging around Ella a lot, so she's taken a great deal of interest in him. I've been teaching her "KITTY! KITTY! KITTY! KITTY!" (which she thinks is the BEST. NOISE. EVER.).

Upon Todd's return home from a business trip, Ella sees Ninja Cocaine Kitty and starts all, "KI-KI-KI-KI" (yes, she's a genius) in front of her daddy. Todd was in great awe of my new monkey trick. He then says, "OH! While I was gone, I had all these weird dreams. One was that we were pumping your milk with the pump, but not from your breast, FROM YOUR EAR LOBE."

Discussion about his mentally stability and need for regulated medication ensued.

After that, I was telling him how I was teaching Ella the "KITTY! KITTY!" thing this week and I couldn't figure out why Ninja Cocaine Kitty wouldn't leave me alone. It took me a moment to realize that he wouldn't leave me alone BECAUSE I WAS CALLING HIM ("Kitty! Kitty!")

(Hey, I never claimed to be bright).

At that point? My husband deadpans:

"He wasn't leaving you alone not because you were calling him, but because your ears were lactating..."

There's something seriously wrong with us in this household.

Today, I receive this email from a recruiter:

I found your resume on the Web recently and think you'd be a great candidate for a Janitorial Cleaning Manager job we currently have available. Your credentials in management are what make you an ideal candidate for this opening.

Below is an outline of the opportunity. We'd like to invite you to apply today.

Janitorial Cleaning Manager Income growth opportunities Dedicated professionals with a history of successfully managing and assisting companies are preferred. To learn more about the job or to apply, please click on the link below.

The above was sent to my professional writing and consulting website email address. This says one of several things. Either:
1. Their database search is set really, really wide.
2. They are really, really hard up for Janitorial Cleaning Managers.
OR
3. I seriously have not accomplished as much as I thought at this point in my career.

Look, I'm not knocking it, but like Andrew, I'm just not interested in the custodial arts. I'm confused how a published academic author, college instructor, healthcare consultant and owner of three completely unrelated businesses (to each other, let alone the janitorial services) feeds into the random search for this position.

Huh. Go figure.

Now that I think of it, I could use the money. Do you think I would have to wear those zip-up coverall thingies?!?

And, if so, do they come in pink? (And, does a Black Prada Backpack Purse go with?)