Ghost Farts.

real ghost

I've become OBSESSED with ghost hunting shows. And paranormal shows. And pretty much anything that talks to dead people. Anything that's a real show that shows real things. None of this Paranormal Activity crap. That stuff gives me the spooks.

A psychologist would probably tell you that it has something to do with my dead sister, but when you start talking stuff like that then the pity party rug rolls out and then the finger pointing and hushed whispers and anyway, it's not so that I can talk to my sister like some sad sack from the John Edwards audience.

(Don't tell anyone but sometimes I try to talk to my dead sister. But that doesn't make me crazy.)

Let's start this over.

Where were we? OH! Ghost hunting.

Want to know which one's I watch? ALL OF THEM. I do. If I see that green screen it's Game On, guy.

Ghost Adventures or if you're my husband, "Ghost Bro"

So while we're here, let's talk about Ghost Adventures, which I just noticed was on the Travel Channel and not SyFy like all the others which is why I haven't seen it in a bunch of forevers. Hahah. Oh me. Anyway Ghost Adventures? Fake. Probably. And I keep calling it Ghost Adventurers which is really a better name for the show, am I right? My husband HATES this show and its Ed Hardy clad crew.

I love it. I like how Zak Bagans tough talks ghosts. He's so tough.


By the waaaay!!!!!!  DID YOU KNOW HE HAS A RECORD OUT?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Ridiculous.

Click here to iTunes that gold.

Lol. I can't even with this. I think it's got to be a joke being played on me. I think my husband must be behind this. No way this is a thing.

"It's a thing, Bro"

And then the totally fake Haunted Collector. Psh.

This one. First off, how does a ghost grab onto an object and haunt the object? 'Cause if that's true, I'm never borrowing a pen ever again.

And I saw one episode that had a ghost going under the covers and then a lady who's totally hooking up with the main dude, grandpa or whatever his name is, she goes into a hole, digs around for about a second and a half and pulls out this "haunted coin". Lol. Did the ghost tell her where it was?

There's an old German Ghost yelling Jewish slurs up in this coin. 

And then there's the Ghost Hunters show. (Is that what it's called? I should look this up)

Ghost Hunters International, that's what I said. I mostly like that there's a lady named Amy on there and her hair looks blonde in night vision mode but she's really red haired. I like her better in night vision mode.

And TAPS which is the one I believe the most. Well, I think I believe the Ghost Hunters International one too. Wait. I think Amy's on TAPS? I don't.... I'm really bad at this. This is why I don't have a job at TV Guide.

The only reason.

Anyway.

Wait, are they the same show? I don't know. I don't pay attention. It's a ghost show, I don't care.

These TAPS dudes work as plumbers during the day.

Holy craps. I've just figured the whole thing out. Maybe they are fakes and let me tell you why.

Ghost farts.

Let me tell you that I am in LOVE with the Long Island Medium. Also, she blames farts on ghosts. I'm not kidding. Here's the episode if you want to watch.

And now I think TAPS might be blaming ghosts for their stink.

All of them are. If you have a gas issue, become a paranormal investigator. Or a medium. BLAME THE GHOSTS.

"What was that noise? Did you fart?" Nope, ghost.

"What's that smell?!" Ghost.

See?

So when I was watching Anderson Cooper today, I saw these ladies.

The Ghost Hunting Moms.

These are my people!!! Off to read their blog now.

Pinterest. Otherwise known as The Highway to Hell.

"Crafts I'll do one day". lol

When I was in junior high, a couple of the popular girls told me how to put on make-up. See, I lived with my dad in junior high and even though he taught me how to shave my legs and mullet my hair, make-up was over the line of dad-knowledge. So the popular girls taught me. 

Popular Girl #1: "No, yeah, you go ahead and use this blush here"

Me: "Like, where, here on my cheek?"

Popular Girl #2: "No, all over. Go ahead and blend it all in, your forehead, yeah, all over"

Me: "Don't I look too red?"

Popular Girl #1: "No way, you look good."

I couldn't figure out why everyone was snickering at me on the bus the whole ride home. Couldn't have been the make-up 'cause I looked gooooood. 

So no, I wasn't popular in junior high or high school. 

And yeah, those popular girls ended up running a site called Pinterest. Probably. 

I was introduced to Pinterest about a year ago by my sister-in-law who assured me of all its usefulness. 

Sister-In-Law: "No yeah, you go ahead and use this website here"

I love Pinterest except that it introduces me to some plain awful ideas I may not have come up with left to my own devices. 

Here's a particularly saucy pin that lured me into trouble. 

Cloud Dough. Hahahah. 

Cloud dough. 

What was I thinking? 

You know what I was thinking? I was trying to keep up with those lying sacks of "homeschool moms" that somehow have time to Pinterest, you know what I'm saying?

So anyway, back to my nonsense. I was trying out this other pin I saw on Pinterest about putting silicone caulking on paper to make it sewable and these kids of mine were driving me nuts. So logically, I brought out Cloud Dough. 

If you don't want to be bothered clicking around to find out what cloud dough is, it's flour and baby oil. 

8 cups of flour. 

I know. I realize this now. 

But the pin promised my kids would be entertained by brain stimulating activities for hours. 

lol. 

More like

So, I'm still not popular. 

Nor do I know how to put on make-up. If you've just now decided that you don't know how to put on make-up either ask Becky, my friends. Don't consult Pinterest. 

OH! Here's my Pinterest if you want a piece of my action. You know you do. 

The 50's Housewife Experiment

Image: dollymix.tv

Hi.

Remember when I had a blog and I was real good at keeping up with it and stuff? Well, since then I went from having one kid to having two kids and now I can barely keep up with my Facebook addiction much less blog about cool stuff. Sad face indeed.

So I've gone from this happy lass

Image: flickr

to this

Image: tvworthwatching.com 

BUT, instead of finishing what I need to finish to get my etsy shop up and running, I'm writens a blog.

Because when Becky showed me this blog about a 50's Housewife Experiment holy moley I knew what I had to do.

I needed to pull my stockings up and clean my house. And then blog about it, of course.

Image: mamabirth.blogspot.com

Now, it took me about 4 hours that first day just to get through dusting my bedroom. I took a few "I Love Lucy" and Dr. Phil breaks, if we're honest. But I did it all, the ceiling fan, the pictures on the wall, all of it.

And being that I don't know when the last time I dusted was, it kind of looked like, at some point, my house might have been in the path of volcano ash.

So it's taken some time to get this to not seem like a big chore, and it's been like 2 weeks or something and still haven't tackled my kitchen BUT I've kept on it. Everyday I open all the windows, I air the farts out of the bed which is pretty much the technical term for pulling off all the covers and lettin' that baby breathe and then I take one of those really soft socks that I only have one left because of the dryer 

Image: jbrulee.com

and I dust all my stuff which actually makes me want to get rid of about 90% of my things because, no one wants to dust a hoarder's house. And then I go into the bathroom, shake out the towels and refold them nicely, I wipe down the sink and little shelf thing above my toilet. And, because I live with 3 guys, two of them potty trained, I must COMPLETELY wipe down the entire toilet and surrounding wall and floor area with vinegar and a rag. Gross. So I do that, I sweep the floor and I empty the trash. 

Then I make the beds. 

And I scurry about the home like a little Cinderella that says swear words when she steps barefoot on legos. 

Image: laurievandermark.com

And you know what? I think I like it. Not the stepping on legos, but the routine. And I don't finish everything everyday but cleaning something that's clean is so much faster than cleaning something that's not clean. 

It's sounds so silly. Don't you judge me.  

And let me tell you when I KNEW I was onto something. Yesterday I had a surprise FIVE CHILDREN in my house at once. And as they walked in, my house was already clean. Not after they left mind you, but when the mom of 3 of them came into my home after my little "Don't mind the mess" speech, 

this was her face, I'm pretty sure

Worth it. 

So yeah. Awesome. Now if I could only figure out how to work a shower into the mix, we'd be golden, baby. 

Image: etsy

You know what I have yet to do? Brag that I got a picture with Sean Lennon.

Photo by Vanessa Pena, Photo editing by me.
Don't even try to hate. You know it's good. 

Okay, if you're one of my socially networked buddies on the twits or the tumbs, you're pretty tired of me talking about it, but you know what? I don't care.

And if you're not ...


 Twitter and Tumblr.


Go on, jump on my crazy train.



So anyway, DO YOU HAVE ANY FRIGGIN' CLUE HOW AWESOME I AM?! I TOOK A PICTURE WITH SEAN LENNON!!!

January 23, 2011. The Troubadour. Los Angeles.

Yes. This Troubadour.

The place where Lennon Senior was so AWESOMELY and drunkenly removed in '74?! Yeah. I KNOW! So, after I panicked about that for like a good week, the day had come. My "Ethel Mertz" AKA Vanessa and I picked up Bronwyn and off we girls went like thieves into the night- only I was nervously laughing and talking really fast and a little too loud and a little too much so turns out a good thing we didn't actually thief. We'd never have made it. I'm an embarrassment to even myself. 

So we ate, and I talked about puking the whole time. And then I geeked and had to have my pic taken in front of The Beatles on Hollywood Blvd. I had to; I was live facebooking my arrest, okay? 

And then we rolled up on Sunset, like rockstars, and stood in the ENORMOUS line, unlike rockstars. I started rambling on again about live facebooking my arrest and the woman in line in front of me looked at me like she was going to call the police on me herself and save Sean the hassle. I was off to an excellent start. 

So in we go- I start drinkin' (necessity) and we stand around for maybe a million years through some opening act and more waiting. And then Ghost of a Saber Tooth Tiger roll on stage and I begin mega- stare hoping against rationality that Sean senses my brain waves of love and decides to run away with me. He did look at me once, so it might have worked. I'm not totally ruling it out.

Photo by Vanessa Pena

See? Like he's staring into my soul. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

So the show ends but not after Sean made a crack about his dad being thrown out of the place. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I realized he was leaving my life! and then Sean mentions that they'll be hanging out at the merch table. PAYDAY. I would walk up to him and he would propose. I knew it. So in line we went. Again. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Did I happen to mention that there are some freaky people hanging out in Hollywood after dark? Because, yeah. And they were waiting in line too. So was a guy dressed as a clown-bum or something. Not me though. I was calm, cool, collected, charming. All those "c" words. 

This is me about to cry and puke because I was getting too close to an actual real life Lennon. 

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

And so, somehow, with Bronwyn's help and speaking ability, I bought a cd I already owned and got it signed. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

And somehow I squeaked out to Charlotte that I would like a picture and it turned into a me hogging photo-shoot. Sorry suckas behind me in line. HAHAHAHA. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Vanessa Pena

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Photo by Bronwyn Gamble

Although, I nearly puked the entire time. And I don't think I spoke more than a few words of rudimentary English and choking sounds and gurgles and I think part of me died at one point. I remember so very little. My legs were shaking so bad and my heart was racing and we left the Troubadour and I screamed, fell onto the cement, I may have peed myself, I don't remember.

I fangirled. I flat out fangirled. 

Photo by Vanessa Pena

The John Lennon Troubadour story is in this blog post if you'd like to revisit that. And why wouldn't you?