Doomed. Possibly.

"So, how is everything?" my mom asked me on the phone a few weeks ago.

"Fine, except that it got so hot here in Nashville that I had an asthma flare-up," I said, "so I had to break out the prescription medicine, which was annoying."

"Asthma?" my mom said, her voice tinged with a note of alarm.

"Mom, I told you about this," I said. "I have asthma flare-ups a couple of times a year. I read about it and found out that adult-onset asthma is fairly common and generally starts in your 30s. It hardly ever bothers me, my doctor's not concerned, and it's really no big deal."

"Well, you know, all the trouble with your grandfather started with asthma," my mom said darkly. "And he was your age when it hit him."

I paused. My grandfather had been a walking laundry list of health problems from the time I was born until his death when I was 25. He'd had diabetes, asthma, periodic pneumonia, plenty of other maladies I can neither remember nor pronounce, and the kicker-- emphysema. Grandaddy was rather melodramatic, so we heard often about his illnesses and afflictions and the pain and suffering they caused.

"Great," I said. "Hmm. I have a lot to look forward to."

"I didn't mean that," my mom said, "I'm just telling you that it started for him with asthma and he was your age when it happened."

"Yeah," I said. "And it ended for him in emphysema and sheer misery. Lovely. Well, it's been nice talking to you, Mom. Thanks for the reassurance. I'm really going to sleep well tonight."

We both laughed.

This week, I stopped by for a visit with my family with the kids and when I was chatting with my grandmother, I mentioned the conversation I'd had on the phone with my mother.

"I told her I had occasional asthma flare-ups and she said that was the start of Grandaddy's problems!" I laughed. "So I was all, 'Thanks Mom. I feel much better now!'"

My grandmother chuckled, then grew serious. "It did start with the asthma, you know. But he was around chemicals a lot, which made it much worse." I smiled with secret relief. I knew my Grandmother would make me feel better.

"The problem with that side of the family was cancer," she continued. "I don't know if you remember, but your grandfather had cancerous polyps, too, which were removed. And two of his three brothers had cancer. And his mother and father had it. She began counting off on her fingers. "And so did Clara, Stewart, Johnny, and Edna. And Patsy."

"Okay then," I said. I thought for a moment. "So basically, there's a 25% chance that I'm doomed." Grandmother laughed and I pretended to do the same.

But now, I'm fighting a strange urge to upload "Live Like You Were Dying" to my iPod and put it on repeat play for the rest of the day.

*******************************

So! For those of you keeping track, I'm now on Week Two of my three-week Crazy Busy Tour. I leave this afternoon for a girls' weekend with my high school friends, then I'm off to NYC Tuesday for BLOGHER '10! After that, I'll be back and I promise to give this blog a good dusting off.

In the meantime, check out what I've been up to...

• Read about last week's beach trip in the latest newspaper edition of Suburban Turmoil!

• And I forgot to link to last week's Suburban Turmoil newspaper column, which is too bad because it's one I think a lot of you can relate to- I've been suffering from mommy burnout. Do my symptoms sound familiar to you?

• Also, if you haven't seen my latest Style Dare, it's a doozy. I tried out the Booty Pop.

And here's what's hot on the style blog right now...

• The details on which high-end designer Target's collaborating with next!
• Is Elnett, the world's "finest hairspray" worth the high price? I put it to the test!
• This stylish mom on the street took two trends I hate and MADE THEM WORK.
• Scarlett Johansson got a REALLY ugly haicut. Wanna see?
• Clown chic. Check out which celebrity apparently got sucked into the big top.
• I love motorcycle boots, yes I do. I love motorcycle boots, how about you?

And be sure and enter to win a $100 prize pack in my McDonalds Family Time, Happy Time Giveaway! Go here to enter!

Back From the Beach

The Pounder

“Mommy,” Punky said hesitantly as I tucked her into bed one evening. “I’m going to use a word I’m not supposed to use, but I think it’s okay because I really, really mean it! Can I?”

“That depends on what the word is,” I said nervously. “What do you want to say?”

“Well, I know I’m not supposed to hate anybody,’” she said. She paused. “But I really hate the Pounder,” She looked at me, expecting a response, but I was at a loss for words.

“The Pounder?” I asked after a moment.

“Yes!” she said.

“What’s the Pounder?”

“Amy told me about the Pounder,” she said. “The Pounder takes away your dog if you lose it and he puts it in a cage. And then he kills it.” She crossed her arms. “I really hate the Pounder.”

“Oh, Punky,” I said. “It’s not that simple. I know the people at the pound and they love animals, and they try to find homes for lost dogs and cats. But there are so many of them that they can’t find homes for all of them.”

Punky frowned and remained silent. “I still hate the Pounder,” she said.

I sighed. “Okay, honey,” I said. It had been a long day. “Good night.”

Ever since then, the Pounder has come up every couple of weeks. As far as Punky is concerned, the Pounder is the epitome of evil, the human equivalent of Satan himself, and no amount of discussion is going to sway her. I haven’t said much about it one way or the other because Punky loves dogs almost as much as she loves her family, and I don’t really want to get into the subject of euthanasia (although she's already something of an expert on the topic).

But Hubs got the ultimate Pounder experience over the weekend when he took the kids to see The Karate Kid at the drive-in movie theater. At one point, one of the characters kept saying, “I’m going to kick his ass,” (which, by the way, annoys me to no end-- Is it REALLY necessary to kick ass in a family-friendly movie?) and the Mr. Miyagi equivalent says, “Do not say ass in my studio!”

“What’s ass?” Punky asked Hubs.

“It’s a bad word,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. She thought for a moment and then said passionately. “I want to kick the Pounder’s ass.”

Yet another dilemma I can't find anywhere in the parenting advice books...

On my style blog right now...

• My most embarrassing moment of all time
  
• Celebs are wearing what looks like a home ec hemline project
• Claire Danes' arm has been replaced with a mutant ocean creature's appendage!
• Weirdest. Fashion show. EVER.
  
• I'm loving the latest celebrity manicure.

Also? Big news, y'all. And it's in this week's newspaper edition of Suburban Turmoil. HOLD ME.

A Whirlwind Tour

If I were smart, I'd probably just announce right now that I'm going to be taking a little bit of time off, as far as this blog is concerned.

I'm going to be out of town for three consecutive weeks on three separate trips (culiminating in BlogHer 10 in New York!), so I've spent the last two weeks trying to get as much writing work done in advance as possible.

I feel exactly like I've been studying for exams!

This blog, unfortunately, has had to be last on my list of important things to do. Paid work, obviously, has to come before pleasure. But even though this is supposed to be a place where I write when I feel like it, I still feel incredible guilt when I go several days without checking in. This may be my story, but many of you out there still have a vested interest in what happens next. I know how I've felt when a blogger I love just sort of quits for a while, with no explanation. I feel jilted.

Jilted!

I don't want to jilt you- so rest assured that I will try to check in as often as I can, and I'm sure I'll have many adventures to tell you about when this whirlwind three weeks is over. School starts the week after I get back (!!!!!!) and while summer has gone by WAY too fast and I didn't get half the things accomplished that I had planned, I'm ready for the routine of the school year. I'm ready to have a little more time to myself.

That said, I do have to share this story with you right now.

Hubs and I went on a date night recently and decided to stop by a funky little downtown beignet shop that also contains a room with an elaborate wine pouring machine.

It looks like this:

And the wine bottles go all the way around the room.

You load up a card with $20, $50, or $100 and insert it to taste either 1 oz, 3 oz, or 5 oz of your choice of wine.

It's an electronic wine tasting!

Doesn't that sound fun? I couldn't wait to try it.

We bought a $20 card, chose the most moderately priced wines we could find, and each got three ounces for our first pour.

That's not much wine-- about three sips, really.

Here's what we had left on our card after ONE POUR EACH.

And here's how much wine I got for roughly $7.50.

I took a sip and realized the wine was corked-- so we headed down to the shop to tell the guy behind the counter.

"Corked?!" he said scornfully. "What do you mean by that?"

I sheepishly tried to explain what 'corked' wine was, while he eyed me with deep skepticism. Did this guy really think I was trying to con him over a few sips of wine? It wasn't even nice wine- We'd had some of the bottles on display before and they were all around $10-$15 each.

Two words for this random experience: NEVER AGAIN.

More soon...