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Monthly Archives: March 2013

I’m not so sure I’m buying this Good Friday thing….


A friend recently said her daughter was asking why they had Good Friday off of school.

“I didn’t know the answer…do you?” she asked me.
“Um – no, I have no idea,” I replied.

I went home and asked Mr. Gaga and he reminded me that it’s the day that Jesus died on the cross.

“But do we know that’s true, or is it just like folklore?” I asked him while we got dinner ready.

“It’s in the bible.” he answered.

“But that doesn’t make it true for sure….Did a human being die on a wooden cross on this day definitely? I mean schools and the bank are closed….” I demanded.
“YES!!” he answered impatiently.

I’m sorry but if the Bank of America is closed and there is no mail – I think we should have some cold hard evidence, call me crazy.

I was pondering this when it all came back to me.

This is the holiday when Jesus supposedly escaped from a cave!  Last year when Mr. Gaga taught me what Easter was all about I was shocked.  I thought it would be nice to repost this year for a little refresher course on Easter.

Enjoy!

BAD CATHOLIC EASTER EDITION (REPOSTED FROM 2012)

I have been learning so much about religion now that Michael is in CCD and it’s interesting to view Catholic traditions through his eyes.

For example, during the Superbowl we were watching the half-time show (obvi – I love me some Madge) and Michael asked

“Why is Cee Lo wearing a dress?”

“It’s not really a dress, it’s like…you know the same thing that priests wear.” I answered distractedly.

“Ooohh,” he answered knowingly. “You mean a Snuggie…..”

“Um – I think they are called habits or something….” I answered trying to watch the show.

“What?” he asked.

He was totally ruining my Madonna time – “Yes – priests wear Snuggies, just sit down and watch the show.”

The Catholic church has enough issues as it is. If I saw this creepy weirdo coming at me with communion – I would run for my life.

I also just recently found out the actual details about this whole Easter situation. My Catholic friends from college couldn’t believe I didn’t know this story – but apparently I really didn’t pay much attention in church or CCD!

“So today He woke up?” I asked Mr. Gaga at breakfast while the kids poured out the contents of their Easter baskets.

“He rose again and ascended into heaven.” Mr. Gaga replied not looking up from the sports section.

“Well did He wake up in the cave and at least go into town and say like

“Ha-ha suckers! Who has two thumbs and totally isn’t nailed to a cross with a thorn hat anymore?”

“Noooo, He “ascended into heaven.” he said impatiently.

“What? How do we know?” I asked with shock.

“Because the rock in front of the cave was moved.” he replied.

“What???? That’s all the evidence we have??? This whole day is based on a moved rock?? I thought this was confirmed…..I at least thought someone saw him like roaming the streets…..”

Mr. Gaga just stared at me unfazed by my revelation.

Hmmm, I don’t know if I am buying this story now.

Anyways – regardless if the Jesus story is true or not – at the very least, Easter marks the end of a dreadful time known as Lent.

Lent isn’t necessarily so bad – but it’s quite unenjoyable when you live with a husband who is allergic to all shellfish, and children that decide you should give up chocolate for Lent and watch you like hawks to make sure you never cheat.

During this time – we also were responsible for collecting money in an “Operation Rice Bowl” that Michael brought home from CCD.

It is a little cardboard box with a picture of a starving child on it, with a slot on the top for coins, and the money goes to Catholic Relief Services.

Thankfully, my cousin came over one day and got guilted by Michael into pouring her entire wallet of change into the box and we were pretty much done with our collection. The kids were fascinated by the box.

“Why do we have to put money in here?” Michael asked looking at the cardboard “Rice Bowl” at the kitchen island while I did the dishes with my back to him.

“Because there are kids that have no food and this money will help them….like the boy that you see on the box.” I answered without looking up.

“Well, he doesn’t look very hungry to me.” he sniffed.

“Michael, that’s rude! He’s starving!” I answered.

“No he’s not!! He’s smiling!” he protested.

“He’s probably trying to look good for the picture!! He’s very sad!” I answered indignantly.

“Well then why doesn’t he just eat the huge loaf of bread that he’s holding?”

I turned away from the dishes. “Let me see that.” I grabbed the box.

I mean I have to say – he doesn’t look too upset about the situation…I can see how this could be confusing to Michael….(and by the way if you like his shirt – I think I just saw it last week in the children’s department at Saks.)

When we finally had to turn it in to Michael’s CCD class, I placed it in my car in the morning so that I wouldn’t forget it in the rush of the afternoon.

Off I went to run a bunch of errands I needed to do before we went to NY for the holiday weekend.

I found the perfect spot on the street and realized that my coin collection for the meter was a little pathetic. I had mostly nickels and pennies in the cup holder of my car.

I looked longingly at the Operation Rice Bowl in my passenger seat.

I decided that stealing from the children wearing designer shirts “poor and hungry” for my parking meter would be an unforgivable Lenten offense.

I decided to rush – and figured any God or police officer would see my Operation Rice Bowl on the car seat and know that I was someone who did good works and should be rewarded.

Do you see my life?

Is it because I’m not so sure about the moved rock story or because of all those times when I told my parents I was going to mass but I really went to McDonald’s???

Why God?? WHY???

When we turned in the dang Rice Bowl that afternoon, the teacher made a fuss – saying Michael was the only one in the class to do it. So I felt good about that – maybe it was worth getting a ticket after all.

Let’s face it, we can teach him to be charitable since we don’t do much as far as religion goes. We don’t say grace, we don’t go to mass unless it’s a holiday, we don’t teach our kids to say prayers…

So imagine my surprise when I came back to pick him up and the teacher greeted me beaming.

“Michael is so wonderful! He passed his “Hail Mary test!” He knew the whole thing!”

I was completely shocked. How the hell did he learn the Hail Mary?

I was so taken off-guard. I don’t know why I said this but…..

I put my hands on Michael’s shoulders and used my “fake Mommy voice” and said…

“Oh – wonderful! They must have reviewed that on Sponge-Bob this week!”

I don’t think Michael’s teacher really “gets me.”

Happy Easter everyone!!

Don’t even think of not voting for me- after I got a parking ticket instead of stealing from the Operation Rice Bowl….Click on the banner below!!! XO, Lady Goo Goo Gaga

Leaning out


Everyone is all abuzz about the latest book from one of America’s top female executives.

Sheryl Sandberg has published a book titled “Lean In,” outlining out women can succeed in today’s world, and how they can avoid holding themselves back.

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“Oh look at me..I am so happy and perfect. I am not afraid of success like all of you losers…Oh and I wear all white clothing and never get stains on them….”

She suggests that many women fear if they climb too high at the office then they won’t have enough time for their children.

She offers ways to get over that and “lean in” towards your career goals instead of “pushing away” from success in order to care for the children that you chose to bring into this world.

Well Sheryl…I am leaning out.

The only thing "leaning" around here is this stack of dirty laundry...and no this is not a reenactment...it's my real life on Sunday mornings.

The only thing “leaning” around here is this stack of dirty laundry…and no this is not a reenactment…it’s my real life on Sunday mornings.

I am sure that she hasn’t become one of Fortune’s list of the 50 Most Powerful Women in Business and as one of Time’s 100 Most Influential People in the World, by sitting around joining playgroups and making fun of Kim Kardashian on her blog…but still.

These women crack me up.  She says that when we stop being afraid of success we can “pursue our goals with gusto!”

The only thing I am doing with “gusto” around here is drinking and consuming carbs.  Is it not enough that you are a gazillionaire Sheryl?  Do you have to rub our noses in it? Do you have to tell us that it is within our reach to be successful but it’s our own stupid faults for being afraid of success?

I am not afraid of success…I wish I was successful.  I wish I could be writing this from Lisa Vanderplump’s mansion in Beverly Hill right now.  That would be totally awesome.  What I am afraid of is raising two monsters who will grow up being cared for by a series of nannies and after-school programs to be fat, disrespectful, idiots with no family values.

I have mentioned that I sell push-up bras part-time.”  That 20 hours of menial work has taken me away from conferences, games and having dinner with my family many times.  If my little job takes up my time, let’s try to imagine all the time that it takes for Sheryl to be a COO of a Fortune 500 company.

Let’s face facts, there’s no way that Sheryl is interacting regularly or (dare I say), as much as she should with her children, and she states in the book that she herself has grappled with guilt and concern for her children.

Her message is push that guilt and worry aside and reach for the gold! You can do it women!!

Great Sheryl – now you are even making the women who are working feel bad.  Can’t you just enjoy the view from your spacious Facebook office and your Louboutin and white sweater collection and leave us alone?

Look at my "leaning" tower of magazines that I haven't gotten to yet....(and yes instead of learning his alphabet enjoys drawing moustaches on models...so what?)

Oh Sheryl speaking of “leaning”….look at my “leaning” tower of magazines that I haven’t gotten to yet….(and yes instead of learning his alphabet Sam enjoys drawing moustaches on models…so what?)

I have chosen to bring these two boys to life and I feel it’s my responsiblity to be with them as much as I can.  I have to say Sheryl say she does not look down upon stay-at-home parents, she just secretly thinks we are all big fat losers.

I would love nothing more than to go full-steam ahead with my push-up bra career, but to what end?  We have to be real – when you choose to “lean in” and focus so intently on career, who are leaving something or someone behind.  That is just fact.

Who is watching this woman’s children? Who is tucking them in at night? Who is getting them off of the bus or watching their soccer game?  If  hired help or even a husband is doing all of that, then that is a very conscious decision that one must make as a mother.

Oh Sheryl, look at these leaning condiments...do you think they are just going to replace themselves??

Oh and Sheryl, look at these leaning condiments…do you think they are just going to replace themselves??

Sheryl says on her blog, “Together, we can create a world where everyone—women and men, girls and boys—has true choice and equal opportunity to follow his or her dreams.”

She seems very nice and positive, but this is simply not true.

I have said many times that Mr. Gaga is extremely supportive, very helpful with the children and the household chores, and is possibly one of the most patient and loving men I know.   Yet none of that takes any weight off my shoulders.  Simply because he is not a mom, he will never be a mom and that is innately the trouble with this whole debate.

We will never be equal.  Men and women are inherently different and always will be.  Maybe we would feel better if we could accept that a little bit, take off our power suits and just know that there are no answers to having it all and there never will be.

For my purposes, I am decidedly “leaning out.”  With no real Fortune magazine-worthy career to escape to….I am here for the better part of Sam and Michael’s childhood wallowing in guilt and self-pity just as much as all of the working moms are for different reasons.

This was the last time I "leaned in" for something. I was trying to listen to the weather report to be sure I heard correctly that my kids would have their 10th day off from school due to snow.

This is me “leaning in” to make sure I am hearing correctly all of the insane bullshit that mothers say aloud in this town on a regular basis….

I asked a friend (who appears to juggle 3 children’s busy activities, a household and a career with “gusto.”) if she was happy with her life.

Her answer was very interesting to me.  She thought about it and went on to list some concerns, stuff she worries about and some parenting she thinks could use improvement on.  She stopped to think about other moms she knew that seemed to be “doing it all.”

She said , “You know now that I think about it I can’t think of one mother I know that would answer that question by saying, ‘Yes, I think I am doing a great job.”

Isn’t that sad? Isn’t it the crux of everything? That we will never be fulfilled either way?

And do people have to keep writing books and talking about it in circles?

LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE SHERYL!! YOU ARE FREAKING US OUT!!!

Can’t I just watch Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and eat 500 Cadbury mini eggs in peace?

Now off she goes to sell 80 million books and rake in some more dough because basically we are so desperate for answers we will read anything.

Sigh.

You know things are bad when I miss “50 Shades of Gray.”

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST PLEASE SHARE ON FACEBOOK THIS WEEK!! I GREATLY APPRECIATE IT;)

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

Kiss me…you’re Irish


My mother is 100% Irish and my father is 100% Italian.  Same goes for Mr. Gaga.

As luck would have it, I am 100% Italian and Mr. Gaga is 100% Irish.

Being married to an Irish person can be good and bad.

Here are some indicators that your husband and children are Irish:

They can drink you under the table: – Most stereotypes don’t come out of thin air.  These people can drink all day and night with little to no repercussions.

There’s no hangover…no throwing up.

The only people who suffer are the sober people who have to be in their company.  In my case, I learned long ago that I will never be able to keep up with the Irish in the drinking department.   While my Irish girlfriends were dancing on the bar in the Bronx, I was home vomiting.

Mr. Gaga is always the life of the party…and has yet to ever wake up one morning of his life and say “I’m never doing that again.”

Irish eyes are smiling:  It’s good to be with someone who has a smiley face, like Mr. Gaga.

I definitely have something that can certainly be described as a “frowny face.”

This has proven to be off-putting.   My neighbor told me that when she first moved to the neighborhood, some lady on my street (who I spoke two words to in my life) told her about the Gaga’s.  She said  “The husband is really nice, but stay away from the wife….she’s a total bitch.”  This is a common theme.

Thankfully, sometimes it seems that the friendliness that radiates from his Irish face, kind of cancels out my bitch face…and we become a little more approachable as a couple.

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with

Somehow this face makes people feel better after they interact with…

this...

this face…

 

They can fight: Yet another stereotype that just happens to be true.  Mr. Gaga is non-confrontational to a fault, but if the shit hits the fan I know he can take everyone down.  He’s very happy and nice, but if pushed too far, he can get crazy.

Don’t be fooled by his smiling eyes or his intoxication….he will fuck you up.

Their taste buds don’t work properly: I believe it is because their ancestors spent centuries gnawing on rotten potatoes in the rain or something, but both my husband and mother have taste buds that don’t function.

As a result they douse everything they eat with inappropriate seasonings and sauces.

When we all eat together my mother spends the first ten minutes of the meal “peppering her food.” While we eat, she literally sits at her seat shaking salt and pepper shakers madly.

 

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished "salt and peppering" hers...Who wants to eat this much pepper????

I finished my dinner tonight right around the time my mother had just finished “salt and peppering” hers…Who in their right mind wants to eat this much pepper????

 

Mr. Gaga takes it one step further and mixes every sauce he can find together and dips his meat into it.

Needless to say, my delicious Italian food does not need this kind of treatment.  I beg him to eat food as it is prepared.  It’s heartbreaking to see him dip my chicken cutlets into this shit.

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it....Does that seem normal???

Every night he mixes all of this into a ramekin and dips food into it….Does that seem normal???

“Why are you doing this? This chicken cutlet is delicious!”

“I like it this way,” he says as he dips it into the revolting concoction.

“It’s rude to the chicken cutlet! You can’t even taste it anymore!”

I plead…to no avail.

They have blatant disregard for food:   I guess it may be due to the dysfunctional taste buds, but food is merely a means of survival for the Irish.

I could truly give my husband homemade pasta with a lobster sauce or Lucky Charms for dinner and he would be equally content either way.

It’s offensive.  However, on nights when I’m working or have had a crazy day there’s some comfort in knowing that I can offer a tunafish sandwich for supper and Mr. Gaga will be thrilled.

They are witty: In college, I lived with 7 Irish girls.  I never laughed so hard in my life.

Mr. Gaga also has been known to crack me up.

Sometimes so much so that I pee my pants.  Since I had kids….I am especially prone to having accidents.

Our first date after I had Sam, we got a babysitter and went to the movies.  When we left the theater and we were walking to the car, Mr. Gaga said something very funny.  I stopped walking, twisted my legs together to try to keep the pee in.  It didn’t work.

50 gallons of pee came pouring out in the middle of the crowds of people who were coming out of the movies, which actually just made me laugh harder.

Mr. Gaga ran away and left me.  He got his car and came back to pick me up where I stood in a pee puddle.  He found an old garbage bag in his truck and he made me wrap up in it before I sat on the seat in his truck.

We laughed the whole way home and then I snuck upstairs with my wet pants and garbage bag while he paid the babysitter.

There’s absolutely nothing better than laughter.

Because they can make people laugh, they take it too far:

Laughter is great.  The problem lies in the fact that when people think Mr. Gaga is the funniest person in the world, he starts to believe them.

When he’s out with friends or at work, he is “Mr. Personality”, shooting off one-liners and cracking jokes, and everyone thinks he’s a riot.

This was the work crowd last time he had to speak....

This was the crowd the last time he had to speak at work….

When he gets home, I am not always in the same jovial mood as his work people or his friends.  Sometimes he tries to crack the same jokes to me that worked wonderfully at work….

carrie

 

They are very white:  When you look like Snooki, you don’t expect to have to get involved with people who don’t like the sun.  Mr. Gaga sits out for a couple of hours on the beach before he starts crying and goes back in the house, and Michael wants to stay out but ends up roasting.

Caring for pasty-white children and husbands is super-annoying.  While Sam and I are tanning, the last thing we want to do is go back to the house because the other 2 annoying lobsters have sun poisoning.

This is Sam on playing on the beach.....

This is Sam playing on the beach…..

 

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami...

This is a picture of Mr. Gaga when we were in Miami…

Loving the Irish can be a blessing or curse – but mostly its a blessing if you can disregard the hideous sunburns ……

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!!!

XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME FOR FUNNIEST MOM BLOGGER!

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A Meaningful Life


Here’s a little back story on Lady G.

I went to a prestigious New England prep school for highschool, where my horizons were broadened and I found a great appreciation for learning.

I went on to college, various internships and jobs in television production, PR, marketing.  Ultimately, Mr. Gaga and I ended up in Connecticut. I worked for a nonprofit doing program development, fundraising and grant writing.

Doing good works was not part of my plan. It’s not exactly what I thought was my cup of tea.

I found it a challenge, yet also found it fulfilling and worthwhile.  I felt good about working a 12 hour day to benefit sick children.  I felt much better about that than I did working a 12 hour day for Viacom.

When I was pregnant with Sam, the nonprofit shut its doors and I ended up home with a one-year-old, by default.

Something else that was not part of my plan.

While also rewarding and fulfilling in some ways, I have struggled to find myself and find meaning in life as a stay-at-home mom.

I have found it difficult to consider my children my sole reason for being.  I have shuddered to think that I was put on this earth to raise 2 children, grocery shop and keep the toilets clean.

Very early on I started working a mindless part-time job just to keep myself sane.  Let’s say for the sake of anonymity I sell push-up bras.  I help women to look good and feel good.  It’s fun. It’s harmless. Meaningful? Not so much.

This week I went to the CT Forum to hear a panel discussion on leading a meaningful life.

The panel included smart important people who were doing great things in the world.  One of the panelists was Tim Shriver, who besides being the son of Eunice Kennedy and Sargent Shriver, is the chairman of the Special Olympics.  He also went to Yale undergrad, and then to about 65 other schools to collect various degrees, and has 5 children, looks like a Kennedy, and is brother-in-laws with Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

Around the time that Tim racked up yet another degree, I could be found doing very important works like emptying the dishwasher twice a day and organizing Legos.

He was so dynamic when he spoke about the meaning of life, and how important it is to give back and to be someone who makes change in the world.

He has done so much and in the midst of it all his hair is always that perfect Kennedy hair that gives you hope and makes you feel all is right with the world.

It made me think about what I do.

You know…sell push up bras….clean the occasional toilet…..make dinner.

Hmmm.

Another panelist was a man named Larry Brilliant.  He has among other small tasks, headed the philanthropic arm of Google, cured 3 million people of blindness, and eradicated small pox.

The man is a genius, so I understand that I could never even dream of accomplishing anything that he has.

However the fact that while these people are changing the world, I am earnestly attempting to teach my husband and kids how to change the toilet paper, I literally cannot keep track of the socks of the 4 people who live in my house and  I have looked at my 2nd grader’s homework and found it overwhelming….probably indicates a slight problem.

“What am I going to do with my life?  You don’t understand because you have a purpose and your life has meaning….” I said to Mr. Gaga the next day with despair.

“Your life has meaning too, with your family.” he answered simply.

“That’s it? That’s my whole life? Just being a mom?” I asked incredulously.

“Yup.”

“What? That can’t be it! I don’t even think I am doing a good job with that…they watch SpongeBob and swear.” I said throwing myself onto my bed with dramatics.

“What will my tombstone say? Here lies Lady G, she sold push-up bras and called kids assholes on her blog?  And what about when the kids leave? What will I do then??”

“It will be time for us to be together, and enjoy life.” he said with a smile, imagining us probably on a beach somewhere loving each other.

All I could see in my mind were the creepy old people in the Cymbalta ad.

“WHAT?? NO!!!! I hate that plan!!! That’s a horrible plan!!!!

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

I stayed home emptying the dishwasher for 20 years for this?

“Ok, great!” Mr. Gaga answered sarcastically, “Then go get a job you crazy bitch!”

(He didn’t say “crazy bitch” but I could see it in his eyeballs that he wanted to. He generally is very nice and patient, but can only take so much.)

Well, you will probably be working and the kids will be gone, and I will be home with like 5 cats….I guess I will just stare out the window and pet the cats all day.” I said with disgust.

“We are not getting cats….I hate cats.” he said firmly.

“So do I!!! I would never want a cat…but I think that when you are alone all the time with nothing to do that’s what happens! That’s the point! Your life is so boring and empty that you forget that you hate cats and you turn into a crazy cat lady.”

He just stared at me.

cats

How can I raise two children successfully and be fully invested in that, and still find a way to preserve a piece of myself, while simultaneously keeping Mr. Gaga around?

Does anyone have the answers??

This is probably why I have the tendency to be Lindsay Lohan…..just sayin.

It’s just not as easy as Tim Shriver’s hair makes it look.

PLEASE CLICK THE LINK BELOW …IT WILL MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I HAVE A PLACE IN THE WORLD….XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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I am Lindsay Lohan and other disappointing news…


We had a “Parents Night Out” fundraiser for the kids’ school last night at a local club.  Let me tell you, there’s nothing funnier than a bunch of washed up nerds hanging out at a club.  I include myself in that as well, as I find that with age my nights out have changed significantly.

My parents took the kids overnight, so it one of the rare nights when we really had no reason to come home at a certain time.  We geared up for a wild night of partying, and I realized a few sad facts.

TEN THINGS I AM OFFICIALLY TOO OLD FOR: 

#1 – Leaving the house past 5 PM: After working all day, I rushed home and got changed to go out.  As I was getting dressed I was so tired, I would have loved to just put on some sweats and watch Homeland.

“Is it wrong that I don’t want to go out at all and I just want to lay on the couch?” I asked Mr. Gaga.

“I was thinking the same thing,” he said.

If we weren’t meeting people out, we probably would have come dangerously close to staying home and passing out by 9:30.

#2 – Staying out late: A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Gaga’s cousin and sister came for a visit and we went out to happy hour.  After a few rounds of drinks at two bars and some appetizers, we were clearly done drinking.  I asked for the tab to be closed and started getting my coat on.

“Where are we going next?” the 25-year-old cousin asked.

“Home.” I answered incredulously.

“Um….it’s 7:30 on a Saturday night.” she said staring at us with despair.

We looked at our phones, that we were sure would say midnight, and son of a gun she was right.

We went to another bar and drank more, when we finally came home I passed out cold in my bed.  It was 9:30.

#3 – Dressing provocatively: In my hay-day I’ve been known for some skimpy outfits.  I especially loved to wear low-cut, cleavage enhancing tops and mini-skirts.  When I first met Mr. Gaga’s family one of his older aunts famously asked me where my skirt was.

When I first started dating Mr. Gaga I had a shirt that me and my friends called the “break-up” shirt which I would wear if we were in a fight or breaking up.  It was made out of sheer netting with a camouflage print on it  and I would wear it with just a bra, jeans and some sort of sexy heel.  I was a big hit at the bars.

If I wore one of my old sexy outfits now, this is what I would look like....

If I wore one of my old sexy outfits now, this is what I would look like….

Now that I am old and fat, I tend to wear more clothing.  If I wear something cleavage enhancing it gives me chest wrinkles and I am too cold.  My “out” clothes now are loose and often covered with big scarves to keep warm.  I put on a wedge heel last night, and Mr. Gaga said “You can’t wear those! You will fall!”

That's me in the middle, when all was sad and done, I decided to just wear what would be most comfortable....

That’s me in the middle, when all was sad and done, I decided to just wear what would be most comfortable….

#4 –Wine: I abstained from drinking for a good 7 years or so, mostly because I was either pregnant or had a baby to tend to for much of that time.  When Sam was 3 I started drinking wine occasionally to take the edge off.  Wine became a regular beverage as it is civilized and lady-like, and acceptable at playdates, lunch with a friend, the park in a coffee mug, book club or dinner.  Apparently when consumed in large quantities at older ages, it can cause acid reflux, severe stomach pains, and severe vomiting.  As I have been experiencing these side effects lately, I was under strict instructions not to drink wine, by Mr. Gaga.

#5 – Drinking on an empty stomach: As soon as I dressed, I ran downstairs to eat some crackers so that I wouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach.  Lord knows you cannot rely on the PTO for food, last year I learned the hard way and ended the night throwing up.  I have mentioned many times, how the people in this town have a blatant disregard for food.  So if you paid $50 to go to a fundraiser and it was a cash bar, this is totally the dinner you would expect when you got there right?

hummus-olives-120712

Really PTO? Last I checked kalamata olives aren’t great at soaking up straight vodka…..

#6 – Shots:  Yes, I said straight vodka.  In college I used to do Rumplemintz and Jagermeister shots all the time.  When a “shot girl” came around with flavored vodkas, I did some quick math and figured college wasn’t THAT long ago. I should be fine.  Come to find out, I am not fine at all.  As I took the third one off the tray from the girl, Mr. Gaga looked at me and shook his head.  “Don’t do it!” he warned probably with visions of holding my hair back later.  I didn’t listen.. I had 5, in between my raspberry lemonade martinis which I lost count of.

#7 – Young people: We are truly past our prime. When I looked around at all of the parents I was shocked at how old and fat and weathered everyone was.  We left the fundraiser and hit an Irish pub that attracts a much younger crowd.  Mr. Gaga was convinced that some girls were checking him out.  He decided to go to the bathroom and see if they looked at him or hit on him, so he could come back and tell me how hot he is.   They didn’t even look at him once.

“I really thought they were looking at me.” he said with disappointment.

“They were probably saying ‘Why is that old wrinkled guy here?’ I answered matter-of-factly.

We have to face facts now. We really can’t pass for our twenties anymore. I am officially a cougar.

#8-Regular makeup:   Since I am no spring chicken, this shit needs to be spackled and glued and waterproofed.  When things are getting wild, I could be feeling young and having fun and one quick trip to the bathroom can ruin my night.  In my old age, I have made my way to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and been horrified to see an old face with smeared eye-makeup.

"O.M.G....but I looked so hot when I left the house....

“O.M.G….but I looked so hot when I left the house….

#9 – Taking a cab:  Like responsible citizens that drink too much, we took a cab to the function.  This is not the norm around these parts.  In Connecticut, everyone just drives.  You go out and you have a designated driver who maintains control over the situation and then you go home like civilized humans.

You do not take a cab to the function, and then get completely trashed, and then get a ride home from your new Star Wars cookie friends in a state of complete intoxication.

Just because I made them some Star Wars cookies, doesn't mean they want to drive home this hot mess.....

Just because I made them some Star Wars cookies, doesn’t mean they want to drive around with this hot mess in their son’s booster seat…..

#10 - Recovery:  In my youth, a quick egg sandwich in the morning washed down with some water and coffee and my body could bounce back by noon from a long night of drinking.

Now it could take weeks.  Not only physically, but the emotional shame of being Lindsay Lohan takes a toll.

Mr. Gaga and I started drinking at 6 PM and we rolled into bed at 12:30.  We woke up completely bewildered, possibly still drunk and horrified by what we might have done or said to embarrass ourselves.

I took one look at Mr. Gaga and knew that we were in trouble.

I took one look at Mr. Gaga and knew that we were in trouble.

 

“Do you think everyone hates us?” I asked as rolled out of bed.

“I was just wondering the same thing…” he answered.

I guess we will find out at the next school function.

WELL IF EVERYONE HATES ME, AT LEAST ITS NOTHING NEW…PLEASE CLICK THE BANNER BELOW SO AT LEAST I KNOW THAT YOU DON’T HATE ME…THEN I MIGHT NEED SOME THERAPY.   XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA

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