30 June 2008

Get Wind of This Aromatherapy Study

Coffee is my requirement to kick start the day but who would have thought this ground breaking study would reveal the coffee we smell can be as important as the coffee we drink?

Scientists have discovered that waking up and simply smelling the coffee can give you some astonishing health benefits. The Journal of Agricultural and Food Chemistry reports that lab rats exposed to the aroma of roasted coffee instantly produced brain proteins that provided antioxidants and chemicals to combat stresses onset by sleeplessness.

Apparently, Folgers had more than a catchy jingle on TV. The best part of waking up is in fact, coffee aromas hitting your olfactory nerve.

Can you think of other smells that set off chemical reactions? I can and these reactions are impossible to ignore.

The smell of dirty socks levitate me toward the washing machine.

Hot car smell makes me drive to my mechanic.

Pee smell makes me wonder what made me laugh so hard.

Eternity for Men makes me check the bottom of my shoes.

Electrical smells make me run around the house looking for what appliance I've left on.

Tire smell gives me the overwhelming urge to watch bad daytime television while eating popcorn.

Hospital cleaner smells makes me have a baby.

Burnt oven smell produces a phone call for takeout Chinese.

Fresh baked cookie smell incites hunger and an immediate household stampede toward my kitchen.

Rotten granola bar smell makes me clean my van out.

Smell of the beach makes me apply sunscreen.

A simple whiff of flowers handed to me by Mr Coffee is a study I've done for nearly 15 years. That smell makes me pucker up instantaneously for a long kiss. However, the combination of the smell of chocolate, flowers, and Mr Coffee's cologne make me want to kiss, date, and procreate.

What? It's a triple whammy in the name of science.

I'm tempted to dedicate myself to smelling my school year book. Perhaps it would take away facial wrinkles and the powers of gravity wreaking havoc on my person.

More research should be done on coffee aromatherapy. Although, nothing can replace the smell and taste of a freshly brewed pot of coffee...well, except by the flower-kissy date-chocolate combo smell.

Take that, science people.

Energizing Coffee

28 June 2008


A friend told me about this new Gizoogle search. Here is Bee Repartee translated.

Gizoogle will translate any site into slang. I was snorting my coffee this morning.

Warning to those who are sensitive to f-bombs and language, but the whole idea cracks me up. Go try it and see it in action, then tell me what you think in comments. I'm demanding that way...

~Bee is dope, fo' shizzle.

24 June 2008

Al Gore Never Wore A Cupcake Backpack

I have more plans to get out this summer. The kids are home from school, full of energy and ready to go all the time. Why is it that during the school year I can get up at the crack of dawn and yet, a week into summer vacation I can sleep until 10am if they let me. I only wish I could bottle a fraction of the kids' energy and save some for myself.

All the parents say, "Amen!"

On Monday, I decided to reduce my carbon footprint and take a green, earth-friendly walk down to the store with the kids. Fresh air and a good two mile stretch of the legs seemed a good idea, right? Even the youngest, who is 5 can do it. I believe if you can walk the mall with your kids for half a day, then they are perfectly able to walk two whole miles.

One would think from all the bike lanes, that there would be sidewalks along some of the roads we took. They were far and few between, even as we passed the kids school there were more bike lanes than sidewalk. I couldn't believe how many people would roar past in their vehicles. I guess "When Children Are Present" means, "Only If It's Convenient".

The kids were pooped by the time we got to the store. The 5 year old claimed the shopping buggy and started breathing like she was dying. I managed to nurse life into them by resting in the deli and feeding them Lunchables and bottles of water. Lunchables have lots of sodium, so it was good for hydration. I opted for an iced coffee al la Starbucks while thanking God for the people at New Balance who make walking shoes you could marry (but only in Connecticut, New York, and California).

I crammed everyone's backpack with groceries for the trip home. Within two blocks, the 5 year old was declaring she could not go on, in her dramatic-arm-draping-forehead sort of way. I was already carrying the bear's share of the grocery load along with my purse slung over the top of me. I threw her backpack over my shoulders. I knew I'd get laughed at by passing drivers.

*Click photo to enlarge*
Cell phone used to show how big
that thing really is.

I did get laughed at. Cupcakes are apparently hawt and funny.

Plodding along, I was quietly cursing my decision making skills. The 82 degrees pushed us home and the blazing sun made me look more like a sweaty mountain goat than someone doing good things for the environment.

Seriously, I looked incredible. I was yelling at the boys to slow down, and mascara dripping down to my chin. I had four kids ahead of me. My oldest limping from blisters. My damp hair in a sweaty beet red face, and my cupcake backpack boldly trumpeting the latest in motherly fashions.


I promised the kids we'd go swimming when we were just blocks from the apartment. The youngest gained a newfound strength and took over as point man, while booking down the road at a breakneck walk. I nearly dislocated my tomatoes trying to keep up.

Completely unrelated I have to show you my new red shiny shoes. These are so cute, I couldn't help but post them. Talk amongst yourselves....I'll be back after I leave my carbon footprint planted in Mother Nature's backside because next time? I'm driving.


17 June 2008

Gluten. It's What's For Dinner

Summertime is upon us with only two more half-days of school. This means my days will be soaking up sun at the pool. I hope to do more outdoors this year for the kids sake. The pool will be well used, I'm just saying...

Today is uneventful. I'm thinking of taking a book and hanging out in the school parking lot. Twittering from my phone is also fun. I get some good ideas for writing, although I've heard Stephen King once say that if you can't remember your brilliant post idea a day later (let alone hours), then it wasn't worth writing in the first place.

I don't care for the horror genre, but as a brilliant seasoned writer? He has a very astute point.

In other news, I purchased a Diabetic Cookbook. My reason for buying it was the pictures, especially the giant piece of chocolate cake on the front. I'm not diabetic, and I have NEVER done the diet thing. Except for the carb free one, whereas by the end of the day I was ready to eat a FedEx box if someone told me it was a carb. Carb free diets encourage insulin resistance (aka diabetes or diabetic-like symptoms) and seeing I'm fond of my liver, my carb free diet took only one day to ditch.

Also Dr Atkins died clinically obese. I'd say his demise is proof in the pudding substitute.

I love Barnes and Noble (I've worked for them in the past...Borders, too) You could not fathom the plethora of books on Gluten Free diets. Granted some need to eat this way for medical reasons. But for those who willingly cut out dairy, meat, carbs, and gluten? I'd lose it and end up scrounging in the fridge and polishing off the condiments after my daily pot of coffee.

I do grow my own tomatoes and herbs. That's the extent of my voluntary food snobbery.

The truth is, I need carbs. I need gluten. I have no idea what exactly gluten is except a wheat product. I just don't see the sense in eliminating entire chunks of food groups. In light of this I shall leave you with my own revamped version of the food pyramid. Hey, it's what's for dinner.

**Please click to enlarge**

16 June 2008

I'm An Idiot Magnet

This weekend was a good one. Mr Coffee came home for the weekend from working on a job two hours north of us. It was so good to have him home.

Father's Day was relaxing and we got to spoil him. I got him some cologne and chocolate and the kids had numerous 'presents' that included a school project that looks suspiciously like an [ash]tray made of clay. We don't smoke so this will become a ring holder. I can't help but wonder what the art teacher is attempting to accomplish by encouraging fatherly smoking? I'm going to suggest to the school district that next time they can have the kids make a few wooden shivs or perhaps soda bottle bongs are in order.

You can't have enough soda bottle bongs, I always say. Ashtrays are so last year and comparatively? It's the gift that keeps on giving. Talk about a great conversation piece.

As for the cologne, Diesel for men = encourages optimum bonkability. Yummmmmm.

Having taken the kids to the mall on Saturday, the Bee Clan arrived home very hot and tired. I took the kids over to the pool while Mr Coffee ordered takeout Chinese. The only trouble was when he left to pick it up, I had left my keys in the apartment. We were locked out for about 10 minutes, sitting on the apartment stairs. And wouldn't you know it? My idiot magnet kicked in.

I have a knack for drawing idiots to my person, including but not limited to: driving, apartment dwellers, people behind me in line, carpooling roadragers ~strike~ ehm, parents, and a few trolls at my old blog.

Mr Coffee showed up and gave my daughter the keys. As she brought them to me from the parking lot, my neighbor made an appearance from her door adjacent to ours.

Bear in mind, I have never spoken to her. She ignores me and keeps to herself. She'll smile big for Mr Coffee. Mmkay, like that's gonna happen. But he is hot so really, can I blame her for trying?

Neighbor lady only gets her two kids every two weeks. I won't assume why a judge would take away a mother's children to only allow visitation on a weekend every two weeks. I have it on good authority you would have to be a very bad mom. I do know from our little conversation that she is extremely volatile and rude. Maybe she hates white people? Maybe she hates kids? Maybe I'm just an idiot magnet? Who knows....

She looks at me and immediately complains loudly, "Can you keep YOUR KIDS from playing HERE! It's so loud, it sounds like they are yelling right in my living room!"

I stare at her blankly, quite surprised. No one was yelling. We were sitting and talking. Not once does she ask if we are locked out, or why we are there..or stopping to attempt civility, let alone neighborly conduct.

"Well, we are locked out...."

She immediately interrupts, "I've never complained even though I hear them CHARGING UP AND DOWN these stairs and playing here all the time...they can't play here making SO MUCH NOISE.."

By now, I'm getting a little pissed, "You can't expect my children to be silent coming and going OUTSIDE. This foyer area is pretty echoey.."

She interrupted again and threw her hands up in the air. She rolled her eyes for added dramatic effect, "GOD! THAT is exactly what you told the lady downstairs. You ARE NOT RESPECTFUL!" She slammed the door in my face.

Because getting irate in front of my kids, whining on assumption, and slamming a door in a neighbors face is the epitome of respect.

I wanted to tell her to mind her own business and respect goes two ways. If perhaps she was listening in to the conversation my neighbor and I had at my door two weeks ago, maybe this is the reason she hears everything. Someone knocks at my door, she is opening hers and peeking out. Mr Coffee comes home and knocks on the door, she peeks out. I go to get my paper and she is peeking out.

The apartment manager's daughters have informed my daughter that apparently Neighbor Lady has been angry with me for parking in 'her parking space' in the unassigned spaces. How does that work? You can learn a lot from your daughter's best friends.

Neighbor Lady got so angry with the manager who reminded Neighbor Lady of the open parking being just that. Neighbor lady, in turn, started parking in the apartment manager's space. See? The model of respectful behavior only halted by a tow truck.

As it goes, I was unloading groceries from my van this morning and she came out of her apartment. I said nothing to her as she hurried down the steps. (If you can't say something nice, scissor kick their head?) I wanted to say a LOT of things, but I refrained.

On my way back down the stairs for another load of groceries, I caught her surveying her car. Someone during the night had left a very large dent and scratch all the way down through the paint finish on the side of her brand new car. She just got her plates and tags a month ago.

As for me? I will pray for her so as to keep me from stuffing her in one of the recycling bins. I don't believe in karma, although this morning it makes me wonder if the saying is true, "What goes around, comes around."

12 June 2008

Curiosity Killed The Bloggy Peops

I wrote a letter to another blogger who was afraid she had sent me a bitchy email. This email has been made blog worthy. Warning: I say bitchy a lot in this post.

Dear [Bloggy Friend],

I didn't get the email. What are you talking about?

Mr Coffee has been coming home on weekends and I'm tired with him gone M-F.

I just notice that last sentence looks far more hilarious than intended.

I would love to work on my Daughters of the American Revolution application (because we Yanks were so revolting) but with Mr Coffee gone, hair to be colored, facebook applications to be ignored, and kids to be fed...geez...no time! Like yesterday, I wore my bra inside out all day and didn't even stop to turn it right side out. Like who has that kind of time?! I'm lucky if I get to go pee more than once.

Okay, seriously. Now I have to behold your email bitchiness. I will need to know what tone and brand you emailed. There are many kinds of Bitchiness you know.

Say for instance, Family Bitchiness is wholly called for and easily excused. MIL dropping by without calling so you are unable to hide the empty wine bottles, get your underwear on right, and hide the massive laundry pile.

Yes, we are eating frozen pot pies on paper plates, what's it to you?

Job Bitchiness is warranted because most people hate their job. Or the guy next to you that eats so many eggs he has sulfer smell oozing from his person. And most importantly...dear sweet buttered Aunt Jemima, how hard is it to make another damn pot of coffee in the breakroom when the pot runs dry? Please explain this because I have worked in jobs where I wanted to feed the offender the science experiments in the community fridge and finish them off by broiling their head in the toaster oven.

There is lastly Husband Bitchiness where you will alienate only half of your readers because seriously, we women stick together. Husbands are loved, respected, and mine is perfect....for me. But just how bowlegged would we be if we put out more than once, twice a day? Men cannot expect us to NOT be bitchy about this. Especially if one is say..on their way to heaven and back and the kids are pounding on the locked bedroom door begging for a freaking pop tart. I should have the right to complain about this even if he is out of town for the next month m-f.

~Bee thinks this post is funny but perhaps TMI due to coffee consumption today.

Humor-Blogs.com give me linky love, so humor me
(pun intended)
and go by and check them out.

11 June 2008

Friends, Don't Let Friends Buy Ugly Car Spoilers

Dear Driver of the Black Acura with that Giant Ugly Spoiler,

Am I worth racing while I'm moseying along my 96 Ford Minivan? Was it worth about blowing a rod to pass me and comethisclose to taking off my front bumper? And this while nearly pummeling into the back of a school bus tootling along in your lane?


My minivan must have been a frightening threat to your manhood. Tell me, is it the fancy red pin stripe on the side that has you tucking tail, or in your case, spoiler?



My ever-so insulting vehicle has an engine light on.

I'm composting kid-snack type shrapnel mashed into the back seats.

The tires are balder than Mr Coffee's head.

The van is nearly as old as you are and you are thinking I would be inclined to race..with kids in the back?! Please don't tell me your pride was hurt when you passed us in your car while we openly laughed at you. I just couldn't live with myself knowing I'd hurt your feelers but you can't hold in that kind of laughter.

Laughing At You, Not With You

~Bee occasionally amuses herself by Nascar carpooling

07 June 2008

Stumptown In Pictures

If you didn't know, I live close to the mecca of all bookstores. 4 floors, one city block, a coffee shop, and over a million volumes of new and used books.

Oh, and you bet I drool over them, too.

I remember visiting Powell's all throughout my childhood. I can nearly feel the time warp into my 6th grade year every time I grace their doors.

I love the feel of downtown, where you can find a law business closed for a 2 hr lunch by 40 year old hybrid-driving man and his life partner. Coincidentally, the same office front sidewalk would grace a blue-haired panhandler wearing a choke-dog collar and a Ralph Nader t-shirt. Transients ask for change from trophy wives. Women ignoring  spending their spouses money at some trendy boutique carrying over-priced vintage clothing and jewelry.

God bless downtown in it's diversity and color. Love it. LOVE IT, I say.

Our family ventured out last weekend. During our downtown excursion, we visited a favorite pizza place. They have loud music, gigantic pizza slices, and the BEST. CUSTOMERS. EVER. for people watching. It also helps that their pizza is fantastic. This below is what I attempted to eat just half of: Fresh zucchini, black olives, artichoke hearts, and feta on hand tossed goodness. 

It does not get any better than this. Please note the size of my fork to the size of my pizza. No child or adult was harmed in the consuming of this delicacy.

Mr Coffee might have been harmed in the eating of his two pieces. Ahhhh, I can FEEL my arteries hardening.

The art on the walls gives the place a great feel. Don't you just love the colors?

If I was a childless woman, I'd live in downtown with my white couch and fingerprint-free, stainless steel appliances. Oh, but who could give up IKEA couch covers, a lego VS foot impalement around the corner, and PB and J stuck to the fridge door? Not in a NY minute. See what fun things I would miss on my drive into downtown?

It's not everyday that you witness Batman pimping a Ford dealership with sidewalk signs. One would think Batman would be more sensible and stick to a Batmobile dealership. Robin was a no-show, although The Joker was dying of boredom on the opposite corner waiving his sign and taunting Batman, to be sure. I didn't get a picture of him only because the light was green and people were tired of me hanging out my van capturing Kodak moments.

My kids also noticed this sign in the bike lane. My 9 year old wanted to know why only those people with mushroom-shaped heads are allowed to drive in the bike lane.

He has a point.

Okay, this wasn't taken downtown, but it was still taken on the road. Smart cars are pretty cute and small and the up side is you can have a normal shaped head to drive one.

If you are ever in my neck of the woods, feel free to give me a shout. I'll meet you downtown in a Stumptown minute.

~Bee is now a shutterbug.

03 June 2008

Do I Look Five To You?

Tanning Girl says, "Tanning can help rid yourself of acne and eczema. It's relaxing and can give you that sun-kissed look year round!" However.....

Tanning Girl says, "Your tooth will fall out and your face will stick this way if you do not wear protective eye gear and some kind of sun screen.

Tanning Girl additionally cautions, "If you wear protective eye gear you will still get massive sun damage. You will also get crabs from the tanning bed and athlete's foot in your nether regions while imprinting cancer straight into your cells. You will be bald from chemo by 35 but you will look hawt like Paris Hilton for the years preceding your impending death."

Tanning Girl says, "Scrub that when I can do this to you for free as long as you wear your meals for the day on your shirt and can claim to be a "Blue Spotted Snow Leopard".

Tanning Girl says, ".....a Blue Spotted Snow Leopard, either that or Tommy Boy."

~Bee thinks it's hard to take a straight or focused picture when you are laughing so hard.

02 June 2008

Three Granola Bars For Your Thoughts

When I was in elementary school, my parents both worked full time. As a result, my sisters and I rode the city bus to school every day. We settled into a routine fairly quickly. We'd wait next to the road for the bus or end up run for it, depending on the day. Hopping on, each one of us flashing our cool bus passes, we'd greet the regular driver we nicknamed "Weird". We told him our names and he said his name was "Weird". It stuck with us girls and so it goes, Weird would drive us to school every morning.

Some days the city bus would also have our school mates aboard. The older boys were merciless teasing us relentlessly over our homemade lunches. These lunches were notoriously 'yucky'. I would end up sitting in the back and clutching my frozen lunch.

Why frozen, you ask?

My stepmom had this time-saving routine of preparing our lunches a week in advance. They were sandwiches with some combination of homemade bread, a slice of tomato, lettuce and mayonnaise or mustard. She would line the freezer with 20 sandwiches in folded, plastic baggies. We'd pull them out on the day they were to be used. The theory was when the sandwiches came out of the freezer before school, they would be thawed by lunch time.

In theory, this was time management at best. In reality, they were the grossest lunches ever to grace a cafeteria table. Frozen lettuce and mayo? Not a good combination.

In theory, these delicious morsels should not be soggy, tomato-ey, homemade bread dripping with watery mayo and limp lettuce. You can imagine, the lunches were so bad that even the lunch monitor did not make us eat the soggy mess. Could you blame them?

We also had the times where my parents were too broke for even a soggy sandwich. Now, I empathize with their dilemma. We were a poor family of six. There was no such thing as discounted or free lunch available. They made do with what they could which started with big bread bags of buttery popcorn for lunch.

The Cafeteria turned into Wall Street. Popcorn for hot dogs. Hot Dogs for banana. Popcorn for juice. Popcorn for a bag of Cheetos. Cheetos for cookies. Cookies for brownies. Not bad bartering for a fifth grader with baking soda pits.

I look back at those times as I feel mixed emotions. I feel guilty writing nominal checks for my kids' discounted lunches. It's assistance, but when you got to, you got to. I remind myself, it could be worse. I write my checks and breathe a thankful sigh that I'm not stuffing popcorn into bread bags.

~Bee still says, "Hold the tomato!"