MOMS are from MARS

So it starts like this...

My friend, Rita, changed her Facebook profile pic to a cute photo of her family. I wrote on her wall, “I love your profile pic. Everyone looks so good!” She replied, “Well you never pick a bad one, do you???”

Hmm. Excellent point.
 
Then our friend, Karen, chimed in saying she was tempted to change her profile pic to something hideous. Of course, knowing Karen, she did just that. Minutes later, a goofy photo of her appeared.

I laughed. "Game on," I posted on her wall. Then I dug into our computer archives. An awful photo of me had to be somewhere in there. Well, guess what? I couldn't find one. 

That's right. After scrolling through thousands of photos, I couldn't find even one where I looked bad. Sound conceited? I'm not. It's much sadder. Truth is, I'm just vain.

Whenever I see a bad picture of myself I delete it, no questions asked. I think, "No big deal. A lot of people do it." And that's true, but here's the thing: in the 3000+ photos we have on our family computer, I’m only in about 60.

Yep. I'm in less than 2% of our photos. What a legacy.

Granted, I’m the cameraman. During trips and family gatherings it's usually me taking the photos. Still, that 2% statistic really stinks, and it's all because I have to look perfect. In my quest to look flawless for future generations, I quite literally cut myself out of the picture.

What spurred me to delete so many photos of myself? Could I have had that many bad hair days? Does my smile keep looking crooked or my eyes keep drooping or did the photos just look like the real me instead of the idealized one I had in my head?

Well, effective immediately, I'm going to stop discarding every bad photo of myself. Life isn’t perfect and neither am I. My friends and family still love me the way I am. Why can't I love myself, too?
 
Years from now, when I have a grandchild in my lap and we’re looking at old family photos, I may not look great but at least I’ll be there. Present.

In the picture.

As a blogger, I get to see the search terms people type into Google before finding their way here. Every month, right at the top of the list it’s always “what color season am i." I get it. If you want to look good it's something you need to know. What I don't understand is the search term that always takes second place:

big time rush heights

That’s right. Legions of people come here wanting to know how tall the members in that boy band are, and Kendall, James, Logan, and Carlos are all included on my page, How Tall is Your Celebrity Crush?

I wanted to do something to thank these people Yep. I'm a giver. At the same time I had a strong desire to totally goof off. What's a woman to do? I decided to download head shots of all four members of the band. Then I uploaded them at morphthing.com. and morphed them into various combos. Here's the silly slideshow that resulted:

Now I couldn't just ignore fans of other celebrities. Take the Twilight folks. They need love, too. So I went ahead and morphed Rob Pattison and Taylor Lautner. Not a bad combination.

And of course, I can't for get the Beliebers out there. Here's Justin Bieber morphed with Selena Gomez.

Moms also drop in quite a bit. For them I morphed Brad Pitt with George Clooney.

And for the guys, I found the Megan Fox/Jessica Alba mash up quite appealing.

Since President's Day is coming up, I uploaded pictures of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln and morphed them, too.

And finally, just because I could, I morphed Kim Kardashian with Gollum from The Lord of the Rings:

As for the combo at the top? It's Madonna and Lady Gaga. Did you get that right? If so, treat yourself to a lollipop and a big 'ole bag of Cheetos.

Ciao!
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It happened again. One of my pleasantly perfect friends just posted a Facbook status (not evenly remotely) similar to this:

That’s right. She was fake flaunting her magnificent culinary skills, an area in which I’m sadly lacking. You see, as a mom, I have a terrible inferiority complex. I'm always worried I don't measure up. I don't want to be one of those women who bring home the bacon and fry in up in the pan. I want to one of those women who bring home the bacon, fry it up in the pan, then crumble it into a savory bolognese sauce and serve it over pasta al dente.

Sadly, I am not one of those women. Still, I try my best. Take last night’s dinner. I think I fared pretty well....
 
For my husband, I went all out and served him Banquet’s salisbury steak meal.

Ahhh. There’s nothing like errant corn nibblets swimming in brown gravy to get the salivary glands going. Notice the potatoes, effortlessly stirred to make them extra fluffy. And that green stuff on the plate below the tray? A sprig of parsley, just like they do in fancy restaurants. Okay, so it’s tarragon. I didn’t have parsley. And yes, it’s just dried leaves out of a McCormicks bottle. But I made the effort so I demand some credit. Would anyone else ever think to do that?

Don’t answer that. Instead, take a look at the beverage so beautifully positioned by the plate. I could have made lemonade from scratch, but that would have denied my husband his daily requirement of Yellow dye #5. Instead, I went with Kool Aid lemonade -- made with an extra pinch of sugar because I’m sweet. Not only that, I served it up in a wine glass. Because I’m classy.

Since my kids rarely like the same thing that my husband and I do, I went a little crazy and microwaved something different for them: Banquet chicken pot pies.

Here's a sample. You may not be able to tell, but I went the extra mile and created a smilie face on the crust by poking holes on it with a fork. Yeah, that’s me. Just adding a little extra magic to the experience. And, yes, after I microwaved it the face did look like it threw up a little bit, but I think my kids still appreciated the effort.

Scooby Doo fruit snacks were added a a side dish to fulfill their vitamin C requirement. As for veggies? No worries. Carrot cubes and peas were already in the pie -- so much nutrition in one place! Of course, I served up more Yellow Dye #5 in Olive Garden kiddie cups. Nothing like a touch of whimsy to make the dining experience special.

So there you have it: family dinner made with a touch of Mom’s love. Please hold your applause until this post is over, which is now.

I’m taking a bow.

A few weeks ago I took the plunge and started using Twitter. It’s been a little scary, a lot of fun, and a complete waste of my time. Since I only have -15 followers, I thought I'd give myself a plug. If you find any of this mildly entertaining, go ahead and follow me by clicking the Twitter button on the right side bar.

Anywho, here’s a recap of some of my activity so far…

I expressed outrage at costumefail.com's classification of this hysterically adorable baby costume as a fail. It is clearly an epic win.

I offered a snippet of my sage advice: Don’t give a word to the wise. They don’t need it. Tell someone stupid.

I re-tweeted the soon to be immortalized quote from Rebel W/out a Cause (paraphrased due to potty mouth language) :  Maybe she’s born with it? Maybe it’s Maybelline? Dude, IT’S PHOTOSHOP.

I gave the links to some things I wrote on expatspost.com, like my sick fantasy involving a Hollywood actor and my chronic nightmares about mutant cotton balls.

I assured one of my friends that he could be manly and sparkly at the same time. (Go with me on this. His ego is at stake.) Then I asked another friend if the recent discovery that the cells she is experimenting on are bipolar makes her depressed or manically happy.

And lastly,  I tweeted the ever-so-excellent commercial Matthew Broderick made for Honda that I’m sure millions of people have seen by now. Ferris Bueller fans rejoice! Just see it again. It's that awesome.

Anyway, I’ve enjoyed my Twitter time so far. Care to join me over there? If not, no worries. Keep coming back here. I won’t hold it against you. Honest. ;)

I think I’m PMSing, so you’d better watch out. I get pretty volatile. And right now I’m ENRAGED. It’s not my fault, though. Some horrible things have happened to me. Instead of exploding, I’m sharing them with you now. Hold on to your fedoras....

First, I sat down to read the comics this morning and Sarge beat the living snot out of Beetle Bailey AGAIN. I’m sorry, but the humor found in the cyclical abuse of a defenseless underling by an authoritarian figure is lost on me. People living in abusive relationships must really yuck it up when they see that, huh? I mean, jeez! If I wanted to get depressed I’d be reading Funky Winkerbean. Throw the handcuffs on Sarge and lock him up already. Sheesh!

Later, on  Who Wants to be a Millionaire, Meredith Viera was  so much more sadistic than usual. She did the whole, ‘I’m not sure if that’s the right answer’ frowny face thing, only to morph into a giggly grin and say, “That’s right!” thing almost every single time. For God’s sake, woman, stop playing with our emotions! My sanity is hinged on the knowledge that Damascus is the capital of Syria. Don’t mess with me!

Then there’s my microwave. 4 minutes and 23 seconds to reheat four ounces of pasta primavera? Really? Either the special heating sensor fairies think I have a steel - coated esophagus or they’re out to get me. Strike that. I KNOW they’re out to get me.

Then to top things off, that stupid 1980s Pantene commercial featuring Kelly LeBrock saying, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” keeps playing in my head. I didn’t hate her because she was beautiful. I hated her because she was narcissistic enough to say that in front of a camera. Have some humility, will ya?

BTW, that Eighties hair doesn't look so beautiful now, does it, Ms. LeBrock? I bet eight or nine squirrels could live in those massive curls of wonder. 

Whoa. Sorry. That was really snarky. Blame in on the PMS...

Anyway, now I’m sure you understand why I’m a little off today. There’s only so much riciulousness I can handle. Now I going to scoop some peanut butter out of the jar with my bare hands and dip it into a bag of chocolate chips. 

Confession: I haven’t worked out in over two months. I blame bad knees and a slow-healing ankle. As a result, my body looks like a Jello jiggler. Something must be done.
  
But what? I tried to think of something big and bold, something that would make a statement. Then it came to me. For the first time in my life, I’m going to
participate in a marathon.
 
It’s a big step, I know and I’m really nervous. Truth be told, I'm not sure I can do it. Still, I think I've found the perfect one for me: iCarly's ‘Great Gobs of Gibby’ marathon on Nickelodeon.
 
I know what you’re thinking: That’s so lame. Why not The Wizards of Waverly Place instead? Believe me, I thought about that, too, but I've got to start out slow. iCarly’s lack of character development  and story arcs make for an easy, even course. The last thing I want to do is sprain an eyelash my first time out of the box. Plus I never did find out what happened after Sam kissed Freddy in last year’s season finale. I’ve lost way too much sleep over it. It’s time to end the madness.

The training starts now. I’ve got fourteen episodes lined up on my TiVo. Today, I’ll watch one show. Tomorrow, two. Before you know it, I’ll be ready. As for carbo-loading? Don’t you worry. I’m a pro at that. I just bought the Frito-Lay Classic Mix bag featuring not one, but TWO types of Doritos! All I need now is a blueberry cheesecake, a case of Yoo-hoo and I'm good to go. 
 
So wish me luck. I know I'm going to need it. Reliving Carly’s bedroom fire will be tough. But I’ll do it in the name marathon participants everywhere.

Hopefully, I’ll make them proud.  

I really wanted to black out my site today in support of the anti-SOPA movement. Unfortunately, as a certified idiot, I don't know how. So, instead, here's a link that explains in easy-to-read detail why so many people are freaked out:

http://americancensorship.org/infographic.html

Plus here's a cool song, and...

A funny Hilter Reacts to... video:

And if you can't see either, it's probably because of SOPA. Sorry. :(

Remember when I said beauty comes from within? Well, I lied. You’re no better than your looks. Personality, smarts and talent mean nothing if they're not packaged in a pretty shell. 

But don't worry. I'm her to rescue you with some products that will make you smile -- but don’t. Please. Smiling wrinkles your skin, plus you really need to whiten your teeth.

First off, about that smile. Why not use Face Refrain, the expression inhibitor serum? Just apply this invisible liquid to 'retrain  your brain, and therefore your body, to decrease or completely stop repetitive  facial expressions that can result in creases and eventually, wrinkles.’  It’s form a tape to prevent you from ‘repetitive facial expressions’ like scowling or smiling. Living without expressing emotion is good for many reasons. Keeping it all inside makes your
insides boil, which burns more calories…or does it cause cardiac damage? I forget.

If you’re already
wrinkled, you might need to continue to plan B. Use Baba De Caracol Original Snail Slime facial cream. Remember ‘original.’ Don’t fall for imitations. All slimes are not the same!

Let’s move on to your nose. It better be one of those cute upturned ones. It’s not? Then you’re clearly second tier. No worries. Just use the Beauty Life High Nose. ‘The supports hold your nose in place the buzzing will help shape your nose into just that little bit firmer and higher.’Love the grammar. This product must be top notch!

Of course, we can’t forget lips. There are a ton of plumpers out there, but none more fun that the Luscious Lip Pumper. That's right. I said ‘pumper,’not ‘plumper.’ No silly creams or lipsticks here. Instead, just use the vacuum pump to get ‘full, pouty, more kissable lips in seconds!' Side note: bruising should not occur if the conditioning process is carefully followed. Plus what’s wrong with bruising, anyway? It’s like mottled lipstick that won’t easily come off!

Now boobs aren’t part of your face, but you can’t deny their importance.
Without big boobs, women must rely on their personalities to get dates. Such a horror! My favorite product? F-Cup Cookies. They’re FDA-unapproved! Plus you get to eat cookies. Double bonus. This product is (very definitely) too good to be true! 

Still, if you’re on a diet and can't eat cookies -- which you should be unless you're a size 0 -- increase your size party-style with the wine rack bra. Just fill it with your favorite beverage and slosh your way to high stylin’.

I'm sure there are more horrible -- I mean awesome -- products out there to make you more beautiful. If you've got one, please share. We all need a little help, don't we?

For those of you who don’t already know, I hail from the state of Iowa. Many things make  Iowa great, like pulled pork sandwiches and corn. Another thing? The Iowa Caucus. It’s the first caucus for the presidential election, which means we get quite the attention. That’s right, the state smack dab in the middle of the media fly over zone finally gets a day in the sun. 
 
Or should I say months? From about October on we get pummeled with a storm of mail, phone calls and visits. The newspaper coverage is crazy, too. I’ve got to say it’s equal parts cool and annoying. What makes it especially difficult -- I mean fun-- for my husband and I is that we’re swing voters, which means we don’t hold allegiance to any party. That
makes us wild cards open to any and all candidates.
 
But wait! How can I report on a Republican caucus when I’m not a ‘tried and true’ Republican? Well…

In Iowa, you must be a registered member of the Republican or Democrat party to take part in the
caucus.  However, you can change that night.  So if you are an Independent, you can switch to the more competitive caucus to increase the chances you like both candidates on the ticket (or at least one candidate you like). The history of our party affiliations is public record, and the candidates’ campaigns look at it. They know we’re ripe for the picking and they want our fruit.  

Okay, lesson’s over. Want to know what it’s like to live through the Iowa Caucus? Well, you’re about to find out. If you’re interested, read on. If not, go pick
your nose and, don’t worry, next week I’ll go back to being silly. But for now, it’s caucus time!
 
Here’s what I did:
         
I kept every piece of political mail received during the last week and tallied who sent what.

I chronicled every political phone call I received during the week prior to the Iowa Caucus.
       
I went to three -- count them, THREE political
rallies-- the day before the caucus and took pictures, and…
         
I went to my precinct’s caucus.

(Side note: I took a lot of photos. After you read the post, if you’re hungry for more, click here.)

LET'S START WITH THE MAIL.

Here’s a photo of every political piece of mail we got from December 23rd to January 2nd, 2012.

We received...

0 pieces from the Michelle Bachman campaign
0 pieces from the John Huntsman campaign
0 pieces from the Rick Santorum campaign
0 pieces from the Newt Gingrich campaign
4 pieces from the Mitt Romney campaign
5 pieces from Ron Paul campaign
6 pieces from Rick Perry campaign 

As well as… 
 
3  pieces from Strong America Now Super Pac -- which say positive things about Newt Gingrich and negative things about Mitt Romney. Interesting…
 
and 

7 pieces from Restore Our Future, Inc. -- which say positive things about Mitt Romney and negative things about Newt Gingrich. Also interesting…

To round things out, we get 1 piece from AARP encouraging us to vote for retirement security. We're not getting any younger, you know.


NOW LET'S GO TO THE PHONE CALLS!

By far, the most irritating part of the process. In year's past, I wouldn't even pick up the phone. This time I did and it really sucked. See what I do for you people?

I received a total of 41 calls. Here's the breakdown:
0 calls from the Michelle Bachman campaign
0 calls from the John Huntsman campaign
3 calls from the Rick Santorum campaign
4 calls from the Ron Paul campaign
4 calls from the Rick Perry campaign
7 calls from the Newt Gingrich campaign
14 calls from the Mitt Romney campaign
and 9 calls from miscellaneous campaigns/curious folks.

The kicker? Only ONE negative phone call. Kudos to the candidates for keeping it positive. I liked that.
 
(For a mind-numbing blow by blow of every phone call, click here. I dare you. Seriously, it's horrible.)


IT'S TIME FOR MY FAVORITE PART -- THE RALLIES!!

Like I said, I decided to attend rallies of the three candidates who happened to be in Davenport, Iowa on Monday, January 2nd, the day before the caucus. There were three: Mitt Romney, Ron Paul and Newt Gringrich.  Here are the details of each:

Mitt Romney rally: 8:15 a.m., Mississippi Valley Fairgrounds Starlite Ballroom, Davenport, Iowa.

Closet proximity to candidate -- shook his hand!

That’s right. I got up at 6:30 a.m. on a day I didn’t have to just for you guys. Feel special? You should. Rick and I arrive at 7:45 a.m. and are greeted at the door by sharply dressed man handing out Mitt stickers and offering us yard signs to take when we leave. He also invites us to sit on the rafters behind Mitt’s speaking platform. We can get on national TV! I’m all for it, but Rick’s not into it, so we mark our territory about eight feet in front of Mitt’s platform.
Standing room only. I count about nine cameramen on risers positioned along the side and back of the room. There’s also a sectioned off area with two tables lined with laptop computers and reporters behind them. Someone next to us is being interviewed by a newspaper reporter about their thoughts/feelings on the caucuses. Rick spots a cub scout leader he knows, as well as someone from work. I don’t know a soul. Waiting…waiting…Take some pictures. There’s about 300 or so of us there,
mostly older men. We chuckle as any family with young kids are ushered to the risers behind Mitt’s platform. If you want your spot on national TV to be
guaranteed, bring munchkins! I decide to camp by the door where Mitt will enter and right at 8:15 a.m. I get a shot of him arriving.

He’s dressed in jeans and a button down shirt. Not what I expected. Then I go back to Rick and we listen as the speeches begin. First we hear from the local Iowa rep. Then Senator John Thune from South Dakota speaks for a few minutes before handing the mic to Mitt. Mitt introduces his posse --  his wife, his brother and sister-in-law and three of his five sons. (Handsome guys, I must say. His son, Josh, could be mistaken for a Cullen.) His wife, Ann, speaks for a few minutes and then Mitt speaks. He doesn’t speak to long, fifteen minutes or so, cracking jokes along the way -- funny ones, not lame. He seems very at ease, but earnest.

Afterwards, he starts shaking people’s hands. It takes some finagling, but I manage to work my way in there and grab his palm which, frankly, is a little rough. The person right in front of me is hysterical. “Good for you for adding a little spice to that speech so people know you’re a real person!” she tells Mitt. He seems genuinely amused at that remark. Rick, the smarter one of the two of us, decides to hold off on elbowing his way through the crowd and, instead, positions himself right along Mitt’s exit path. Here’s a shot of him shaking his hand. 

We also shake Senator Thune’s hand and get a special ‘thanks for being here’ from Mitt’s brother, Scott. I take the opportunity to ask Mitt’s son, Tagg, (who is so laid back and personable it bowls me over) how Mitt feels about Saturday Night Live’s portrayal of him. Tagg says, “He thinks it’s hilarious!” then goes on to tell me that Mitt’s too busy to watch it live, but that they downloads the SNL clips onto their iPads and show him and he always busts out laughing.

We leave all smiles. That was actually kind of fun. Why did I wait so many years to do something like this? 

Ron Paul, 1 p.m., Steeple Gate Inn, Davenport, Iowa.

Closest proximity to candidate: 40
feet.

Rick’s watching football and corralling the kids so I cajole my good friend, Melody, into coming with me. She’s lived in Iowa most of her life and has never been to a speech or rally of any sort. “All I’ve ever done is eat lunch with Laura Bush,” she tells me. I find that wildly funny.

Right in front of us pulling into the parking lot is Ron Paul’s rented white stretch limo that’s been decorated high school homecoming dance-style -- a big difference from Mitt and Newt Gingrich’s super buses. We  head inside the hotel and go to a huge conference room. There are more people than Romney’s -- at least 350 -- and less media (6 cameras and no  media tables full of computers/reporters. There had to be reporters somewhere, but they weren’t an obvious presence). The attendees are different, too. Again, mostly male, but this time A LOT of young ones. Many look plucked from college. A few of them came in vanloads, but I don’t know where from. It’s a mixed bunch, too. Some look professional, others look like they just came from an Occupy Wallstreet demonstration. If you’re wondering who has the idealistic and disenfranchised vote, I’d say Ron Paul is the guy. We also see our friend, Linda, there and make a point to talk to her later.

The whole feeling in the room is edgier, harder to contain. During the speeches, people whoop from the crowd. Man, there are some hard core folks. It’s obvious Ron Paul has some loyal, enthusiastic fans.

Right on time, Ron Paul is ushered in from a side door wearing a red and blue tie coupled with a blue blazer that, frankly, could have fit his body better but fits his persona just fine. Ron isn’t slick. He doesn’t look it and that’s part of his appeal.

There’s no real meet and greet time for anyone save a few folks at the front. His son, Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky speaks first. He’s smooth  but warm, The crowd responds well to him as he spouts hard facts, as well as funny stories about how badly Washington, D.C.is broken.  Ron Paul speaks next and sounds surprisingly sane given the media picture that’s been painted of him. He seems very genuine, too, with little political polish. I can immediately understand the appeal this guy has for people who are sick of the current political situation as well as politics, in general. This guy exudes anti-status quo.
 
At the end of his speech, Paul is ushered out the way he came in, with just a little time for people up front. We stop by a table on the way out and pick up some ‘Ron Paul Family Cookbooks’ filled with recipes like Oreo Cake and Mama’s Peanut Butter Cookies. All together, a much different experience than this morning. The crowd was edgier, the mood harder to contain. During the speeches, whoops from the crowd could be heard. Ron Paul has some loyal, enthusiastic fans. All in all, I don’t feel like I’ve just seen a candidate, but got a first hand look and a political movement.

Newt Gingrich,
9 p.m. Blackhawk Hotel Bowl & Martini Bar, Davenport, Iowa. 

Closest proximity to candidate: shook his hand!

This is by far the most fun location of the three. A dimly lit and very chi-chi martini bar with ultra cool bowling lanes? I’m coming back to this place to hang out later on. The place rocks.

Rick and I arrive twenty minutes early and order drinks from the waitress. There’s only about 100 people here, no surprise because it’s late on a school night…as well as a football night, Rick reminds me.  The people there are evenly mixed among women/men, young and old. Overall, a good cross-section of Iowans. We take a seat and talk to a couple of guys by us. One guy is here just there to check Newt out. The other is a roving cameraman who makes his living selling video footage of the candidates. 
 
Right at 9 p.m. (everyone's been on time today!)Newt arrives and talks less than five minutes. This event is more of a casual meet and greet, which suits Rick and me just fine. I’m sure it fits Newt fine, too, since he was at a rally earlier in the day at his Daveenport campaign headquarters and just finished back-to-back interviews on national TV. A laid back Newt jokes about the event location, saying it’s an inspired choice, then says he’s happy to stick around, mingle and pose for photos with his wife. We all line up.

In line Rick buys me a silly button that says, ‘Hot chicks vote Republican.’ Right
before we take our picture with Newt, one of his people jokingly, but seriously, asks me to take it off in and effort to “preserve the dignity of the office.” I oblige. When it’s our turn in the spotlight -- or should I say spotlights. There were two or three of them -- we hand our camera to one of Newt’s assistants, who hands it to another assistant as we are guided to Newt and his wife, Callista. They both shake our hands, thank us for coming and then pose with us for a photo.  From  there, we leave -- in an out in forty minutes! It was a fun, quick diversion for the night.

AND NOW FOR THE BIGGIE: THE CAUCUS

Precinct 31 meeting, the Tanglewood
Pavillion. Doors close at 7 p.m.

(Note: I'm writing this very fast, so there might be a typo or two.)
  
At 6:30 p.m. Rick announces with a grin, “Let’s go screw up America!” The two of us hop into the car, arriving five minutes later to a loaded parking lot. We create a parking space (none of the real ones are left) and walk into the door.

Dan  greets us -- he’s the brother of my good friend, Rita -- and ushers us through the main door. We encounter a very long check in line and head toward the back of it. I see I bunch of folks I know, all in all,
about ten percent of the people there. About fifteen minutes later our names are checked off and we sit down with friends.

All in all there’s about 250 people there, filling nearly all of the chairs. Jim, a man many of us know, offers to chair the night unless anyone else really wants the job. No one does, so he proceeds, asking everyone to stand and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. After we do, he pulls out a hat filled with paper numbers. The five people who want to speak on behalf of their candidate have to draw numbers to see who goes first.

Each is given five minutes to talk about their candidate. Newt Gingrich, Ron Paul,  Rick Perry, Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum are represented. Two of the folks are neighbors of mine. Two other are people from precinct who I don’t. The final guy, a young father and passionate Rick Perry supporter, is a Texan who drove 16 hours to be there. All of them get polite applause after they finish speaking.
 
Once they're done, we’re asked to fill out out the ballots they handed out at the registration desk. We do and place our folded ballots in bowls. Then Jim asks for volunteers to count and three people’s hands go up. They all head to the back of the room and start counting.

While they count, there’s other business to attend to. Most people don’t stick around. But we do and, first up, we pick a precinct committee chair. It’s easy because on one person wants the job. He’s a young, earnest man with a toddler  in his arms who keeps grabbing for his microphone. Next up, Jim asks for volunteers to be county delegates. They need ten, but only three volunteer. That’s always happens whenever I got to a caucus,

Next up, the floor is open for anyone to offer resolution ideas to add to our core party platform. They’ll be sent up to the county and, hopefully, go upward and onward from there. A gentleman goes to the front of the room and offers up two ideas. The first one, a resolution for the U.S. congress to pass a balanced budget amendment, gets a lot of discussion. Many people agree we  need to balance the budget, but an amendment? People aren’t sure. It goes down to a paper vote and gets voted down 46 to 42 votes.

The second idea is more accepted. It’s about term limits. A resolution passes saying congressmen should only be allowed to serve four terms and senators should only serve two. It passes with a strong majority.

By  then the votes for the republicannominee have been tabulated. The numbers go as follows:

2  votes for Bachmann
6 for Hunstman
17 for Perry
37 for Paul
49 for Gingrich
59 for Santorum
87 for Romney

Afterward the results are announced, we head for the exit. A few of us go out for a celebratory rootbeer. Then we head home to watch the results on TV. I've got to go now, I want to see how the rest of Iowa voted.

So there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this little peek into the Iowa Caucus experience. It was fun, but I’m glad it’s over.

On to New Hampshire!

J.R. Martinez, Adele, Pippa Middleton’s butt -- there were many shining stars in 2011. But for every hyper giant there was a white dwarf that collapsed,  creating a black hole of misery for all. Yes, my dears, I’m talking about the Celebrity Losers of 2011. Below are the people Mom is very disappointed in this year:

Let's begin with the group awards. The first Group of Losers award goes to...

The  Kardashians 
I can’t tell you just how sick I am of the ridiculousness that is this family and Kim’s failed nuptials takes the ($20,000 wedding) cake. Sure, I’ve seen her tears and heard the whole ‘fool for love’argument, but I’m just not buying it. Could it be the fact that the primary news organization feeding us all this crap happens to be the same one that owns the show? Or maybe it’s the fact that Kim wants to keep the 20.5 karat diamond engagement ring Kris gave her ‘for sentimental reasons.’ Then, of course, is Kris Jenner’s admission  that Kim made no money off the wedding. Really? Because for 72 days all we heard
about was the $14.5 million she made and no one said a word. It wasn’t until AFTER the divorce backlash hit that she told us the ‘truth.’ Sorry, that sounds more like damage control to me. For all of you Kardashian lovers out there, please know I think Kris Humphries is a jerk. No love is lost on him, either.

The second Group of Losers award goes to...

The cast of Jersey Shore a.k.a. America’s Biggest Embarrassment. How are they not all on Valtrex by now? The worst ones this season are no surprise: Mike Sorrentino (The Situation), who proved to be an even bigger tool than before. I’d go into detail if I had a bucket of anti-bacterial gel to dunk my hands into after I type, but I don’t. I will say that smashing his own face into a wall was pretty funny….and loser appropriate. As for Nicole Polizzi, a.k.a. Snooki? Ditto on the antibacterial thing. If I hear the word ‘cuca’one more time I’m going to barf.  And telling a priest to "Shut up, a**hole," when he asks her to cover up her body while  walking past his church shows just how much class she really has. This entire show is one huge petri dish. It just makes me cringe.

Individual Awards go to....

Charlie Sheen Winning the award as funniest (and scariest) star implosion has got to go to Charlie. With phrases like ‘Duh! Winnning!’ ‘tiger’s blood,’ and ‘Adonis DNA’ he was personally responsible for adding at least a dozen new sayings into the American Lexicon. His infamous rants on the radio, which included making fun of his then boss, Chuck Lorre (not smart) lost him his $1.25 million per episode gig on Two and a Half Men. His one man tour, My Violent Torpedo of Truth/Defeat is Not an Option Show, bombed with many booing him off the stage and demanding refunds.

Oh, come on, Lindsay Lohan. Again? She’s been on the loser list for so long now, I fear she’ll end up doing an Amy Winehouse. When your biggest gig for the year is posing nude for Playboy, that isn’t a good sign. Jail time, alleged necklace stealing, and WAY too much partying -- this girl is an absolute train wreck. The days of The Parent Trap and Mean Girls are long gone. Sad.

Ashton Kutcher Things were really looking up when he landed the Two and a Half Men gig. Too bad he couldn’t keep his pee pee in his pants. Cheating on wife Demi Moore? Shame on him! Of course, after the news broke the show’s ratings rocketed. What is wrong with us as a country? Argh! 

At least he’s not Arnold Schwarzenegger.  The jerk not only had an affair with the family’s housekeeper, he had a secret love child with her that he kept secret for fourteen years while the maid still worked for his family. When the child started looking too much like him, his wife, Maria Shriver, started asking questions. That must have been a horrifying discovery -- Maria went to the boy’s christening, all the while thinking it was her maid's husband’s son. Arnold is officially terminated in my book.

Taylor Armstrong (a.k.a. Shana Hughes, Shana Taylor, Taylor Ford, Taylor Ford-Armstrong, and Liar Liar Pants on Fire) It’s hard to feel sorry for this Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star, despite her supposedly abusive husband’s suicide in August. She’s a narcissistic con artist with more bogus business dealings than aliases. Can you trust anything she says? She tried to pass herself off as an heir to the Ford Motor Company, for cripes sake! Did I mention she’s a horrible mom, too? Grrr.

Chris Brown  I know, I know. All that business about him beating then girlfriend Rihanna took place a while ago. I’ve got to say, With some things it’s hard to say 'bygones will be bygones.’ That’s especially true after his stint on Good Morning America back in March. After Robin Robert’s asked him about his past misdeeds, he trashed his dressing room and broke a window with a chair. Way to be a man about it, Chris. 

As  for a celebrity by association, who can forget Mariah Yeter, the girl who claimed Justin Bieber was her baby daddy. The twenty year-old recanted after Bieber said, “No prob. I’ll just take a DNA test.” The realization that, if her claim had been true, she could have been prosecuted for statutory rape might have also factored into it. Kudos to the Biebs for keeping  a cool head and handling the situation with class. 

And even though he’s not technically a celebrity, it’s hard for me not to mention  Congressman Anthony Weiner tweeting his…well…wiener to a Seattle college student earlier this year. Admitting inappropriate electronic relationship with six women over three years, this guy was a total putz and a boon for comics across the nation. 

And there you have it, my top pics for 2011's biggest celebrity losers. Have I missed anyone? Let me know!