Friday, June 25, 2010

tralalala, problem? what problem?

We live in the future. I called a guy, who knew a guy, who had the number for a guy he didn't know, but knew could help me. Then that guy remote controlled my computer, as in he moved the mouse around and fixed a bunch of stuff all the while sitting in HIS living room, who knows how many miles away, all the while doing pretty good imitations of The Iron Giant for Jack, who is now referring to him as the magic man in mommy's computer. I don't know yet if it's going to work. I made a pretty big error in the way that I imported the files from the camera to the computer, and then we made another big error in how we labeled them. I know how to make things pretty, but I don't know how to make them right. What we should have had on this project, since it was our first, was a tech adviser. But we didn't and what's done is done. 

In the meantime, this is pretty much all I can think of right now: 

It's the menu from an ice cream truck here in LA called Lake Street Creamery. Donut ice cream? Aztec sacrifice?! If someone could have them deliver a scoop of each of these to my face, not my house or my kitchen, but right to my face, right now, I think it might make up for a tiny portion of the stress test that was this day. Anyone out there in the interwebs know how to get that to happen? I mean we do after all live in the future....

Everywhere I look I see your face

Nipper Knapp spotted this last night when he was making Jack dinner. I'm sure we'll be finding R2D2 parts strewn about the scene for months. 

In other local tragedies, we are in the middle of a new kind of hell today. Our deadline to finish the pilot we shot for the NYTVF is today. We set the pilot to export out of Final Cut Pro at midnight last night. I set my alarm for 5am, thinking I'd get up and start burning DVDs. Only when I got up there was an error message. Our plan was to cut the trailer this morning while the DVDs were burning and send it all FEDEX tonight. It's 2:01, and we still haven't been able to get it to export correctly. I'm have a guy remotely controlling my computer for $125 an hour right now. I imagine the comic book guy from the Simpsons. But it could be Johnny Depp. Seriously people, if you have a shred of love for the Nipper Knapps, send all your good thoughts our way today. 

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

"Artoo Come Back Here At Once!"

Let me just start right off my saying that I would like to come back in another life as Jack. This kid picked the right two suckers for parents. Let's just say there isn't a playmobil rescue vehicle to be found in the tri-state area. Oh and we're *ahem, Roberto* is building him a tree house (with a fire pole and a zip line!). I can't help myself. It started before he was even born. "Oh no, I don't need anything new, when I can buy this super soft organic onesie with teensy tiny green stripes for my fetus!" "Who needs to go to the gym when you can burn calories shopping for star wars legos, and superhero I Can Read books?" I overdo it. I know this. He's spoiled. But he's not rotten. Not yet. I swear.

We had his birthday party on Sunday. It was awesome. Toddler mayhem. Wait, are they still toddlers at 3? He seems like a kid now. I guess I have to stop calling him the baby. I have to stop saying: "SSHHH! The baby's sleeping!" And: "It's in the baby's room, I'll get it." sniff, sniff.

I told Jack on his birthday that the day we brought him home from the hospital, I took him right upstairs where we both fell asleep, him on my chest. It was sunny and warm in the room. Because we had just moved in we didn't have curtains yet. I had hung sarongs in the window for privacy and so the light was warm and pink. The short drive home had tired us both out and we slept like that for a good hour or two, neither one of us used to him being outside. I think about that nap all the time when I see his powerful little legs running down the sidewalk in front of me, or watch him "breakdancing" in the living room with Nipper Knapp." That little man was the size of a loaf of bread, and he napped right on me."

Jack likes to hear about how he cried when he was a little baby, "boo hoo hoo", but he's not interested in how small he was. My dad used to tell a story about the way my butt would leave a little wet mark on the seat of his truck after we'd drive home from Lucy Lachance's pool when I was a kid. And the little butt mark would only be "this big" and he'd hold out his thumb and index finger to indicate an impossibly small space, like he couldn't believe it. I can't believe Jack isn't that my little rump roast anymore. He's a small boy who keeps telling me, that soon "he's going to grow into a big man".

Ok, enough weepy mess making. The party. Pizza was consumed, presents were opened, a Darth Vader piñata was smashed to pieces. But one guest sadly did not make it out alive. Weeks ago, Jack told me he wanted a pink R2D2 cake. I was all for it. But then the hate mail began. How could I do that to Jack? How could I do that to R2? I would never be forgiven! The shame would be unending! I caved. It would be blue. It would be funfetti. The head would be silver, and OH MY GOD WE DON'T HAVE ANY SILVER FROSTING OR SPRINKLES OR ANYTHING! Nipper did a last minute Williams Sonoma run on Saturday night. He's an enabler. I decorated all the pieces after Jack went to bed Saturday night and then put it together a few hours before the party.

Everyone ooh'd and aah'd the cake when they came in. I had done it! Baby Big 3 wants an R2D2 cake? Hush little baby don't say a word, mama's gonna buy you a...

Did I mention it was kind of a hot day?

The kids decorated Star Wars cookies, and raced around the house. The tidy ones neatly lining up Jack's trucks like a car show. The messy ones dripping icing on the rug. All of them high on sugar and the sound of their own voices. It was great.

We were outside enjoying the post piñata melee, when my neighbor Anna came out with a soft but mournful look on her face. "I have something I regret to inform you. R2D2 is dead. Well, not dead entirely. Your mother sacrificed her shirt, and propped him back up, but, well, you'll see".

I raced into the house to do damage control. NOT THE CAKE! He had warmed up and his buttercream frosting had gotten slicker than gulf of mexico (too soon?). I should have put him in the fridge, but he was four layers high and on the cake tower it would have meant taking out a shelf, and people, I'm just not much for that kind of you, know, planning.

I examined the "blood on the wall" that Smacksy described as "very Peckinpah". I thanked my mom for putting him back together. And just as we were laughing about the whole thing, I heard a sickening wet sucking sound from the kitchen. I turned to see through the dining room door just as R2D2 LAUNCHED himself off the counter onto the floor. It was just too much for him to go on like that. His life was never going to be the same. We've ruled it a suicide. No way it was an accident with the trajectory of the fall of the counter, and the distance he covered, landing miraculously in the middle of the kitchen floor. R2D2 quit on us. We ate him anyway.

French Skinny suggested next time I use a dowel, then later sent me an email apologizing for suggesting a dowel while poor Artoo lay bloody on the floor. Love her!  I was worried that Jack was going to be upset when he saw this sad cake coming at him with a frosted up 3 candle lit. But he grinned like a fool as everyone sang Happy Birthday, and happily told his Nana it was the best cake ever as he shoveled sugar spoonfuls into his mouth.

Monday, June 21, 2010

I'm a mac

My good friend Brad sent this to me a few days ago. Love it. It's called The American Look (1958) If you want to see it full screen double click the video or go to this link. Enjoy!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Does this mean I have a problem?

I am incapable of withstanding a free sample offer. 

If you tell me I can get a 3 cent sample of your hair cream, or face mask, or primer (I was hoping primer was like spackle, it's not) I will spend $150 to get it. Damn you Sephora. The worst part is that I never use it, and I can't throw it away because it's all too precious. I keep thinking I'll use it on vacation. I'll pack it in my suitcase to be SO efficient. But that never happens. Apparently I can now add "hoarder" to my list of skills. 

What about this:
I should also note that I've basically been wearing the same make-up since the late 90's. What is all of this stuff? Hope in a jar, my ass.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

I'm a squanderer

I squander time, and good will, and fancy face cream, and all kinds of other good stuff. I don't mean to do it. I always begin with the best of intentions. I will be efficient today. I will return every phone call I receive. I will not use the $60 eye cream on my decolletage in the hopes that it will "reconstruct" that whole area.

When I was 14 my best friend told me she thought I worked better under pressure. Huh. Why do I remember that? Because it's true? Prolly. But it's not like I waste time laying around looking at my belly button. I waste time making other projects for myself. That way, in case I'm not FREAKING OUT enough about the one or two things on my plate, the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth things on my plate are usually sufficient to keep me crackin. I know I've talked about the sinking feeling that the resounding answer to "how do you do it all?" is probably ADHD. Truth is, if I wasn't doing all this stuff, I'd be getting myself into a heap of trouble. No doubt about it. No idea what kind of trouble, but I'm sure I'd be good at making that too. Mommy stopped crafting, and that's when she started robbing banks. You know, just to see if she could.

SO to keep myself on the up and up this week, I started, and finished a few things! So long prison orange, hello pink lap quilt. It's kind a disaster. I had an hour, and I wanted to finish it, but I didn't have one whole piece of batting, but I did have three, so I tucked them all in there, and sewed the edges, and then realized that whoopsy tootsie, as soon as I wash it, those middle pieces are going to curl up inside the thing and be all lumpy and make me hate myself. So I just stitched them in. Just went and sewed a couple of ugly lines right across my pretty pink quilt. You win some you lose some.

Burned two Yodas did I

Today I started preparations for Jack's birthday party on Sunday. Let's be honest, I started preparations days ago. Today I started baking. I'm making an R2D2 cake. My mother practically begged me not to. She sent me an email with links to two Pasadena bakeries who make specialty cakes. She said "I'm buying". She offered to send me to a spa. Again, she said "I'm buying". But how sad would it be, the mom who made ladybug and owl, and  minnie mouse cakes for her friend's kids bought her kid an R2D2 cake. There's not enough ice cream ala mode to wash that down.

R2D2's refrigerated noggin

You think I could get some ritalin from some kids in the neighborhood?

Friday, June 18, 2010

Will work for soy lattes

Jack's birthday is next week, but we're having a party Sunday. I'm making an R2D2 cake. Oh and star wars cookies. Remember a few months ago, when I was FREAKING out about Jack playing pretend "shooting thing"? I have since gone to the dark side. Now everything is a "shooting thing" and I play along as long as he gives whoever he "shoots" a kiss after they fall to the ground. Kisses make everything better. I baked all day today, while trying (and failing) to get the music rights to a song we want to use in the pilot we are submitting to the NYTVF. But I guess that's another random skill I now have. Here's what my resume would look like if I had to get a job tomorrow. Or maybe just a random list of stuff I can do. Resume writing is not one of my skillz...

I'd attach this picture because "Yes I AM a Rocket Scientist"
Sadie got me this for my office because she loves me, and she's a good friend, and it's perfect. 

Sells stuff on tv
How to have snarky thoughts
Grows own corn and blueberries
Funny dancing
Good oral hygiene
Total recall on most conversations I had before 1992
No recollection of anything that has been said by me, to me, or around me for last 3 years (not really a skill, unless someone needed an amnesiac to hang around with. But who needs that? Not Nipper Knapp, that's who.
Bakes fancy cakes that usually hold together through the party
How to take a picture
Knows that you have to get both performance, and publishing rights on songs you want to use in your tv show or movie, and where to find the people who hold those rights
Takes rejection like a champ, except when it hurts my feelings, and then I cry, a little or a lot
How to pick a husband
How to explain a crazy dream in detail to someone who could care less. (it's like I was in high school, but it wasn't high school, and you were there, but you were really Beyonce, but I knew it was really you, and I couldn't push any of the buttons on my camera, and then we were all on the roof for no reason, and Jenny who was actually Edward James Olmos wanted me to open a present, but I was afraid of the present, even though I knew it was my favorite kind of socks)
Makes soy lattes
Paying bills (usually on time)
Eats as much as a man, but doesn't brag about it, because knows how to be a lady
How to make a crying kid forget what they were crying about and laugh
How to make an ass of myself (both with, and without intention, although more skilled at the latter)
How to make up lyrics to songs that other people wrote

I wonder if there is an employer out there looking for my particular skill set. 

Monday, June 14, 2010

Be cool my babies, I'll catch you on the flip flop

Alright peeps, listen up and listen good. I'm tired see? I've got a lot on my mind see? I can't possibly keep up with this frantic pace, you dig? I'm just a poor little babe in the woods out here trying to make it in the big city. Do you see? I haven't just been burning the candle at both ends. I threw all the candles in the house into oven, and turned on the broiler. Did I mention Jack wakes up at 5:45 every morning ready to play the "chase me because I'm the bad guy with the shooting thing" game?

I am OVERWHELMED by the response My Muffintop is getting. I am so happy that everyone is loving it! We had so much fun making it. I know I have a LOT of new readers here and on the blog, and I'm so excited. (Thank you, youtube, msn, funnyordie, formerlyhot, the paperball, smacksy, and everyone who posted and reposted My Muffintop) I can't wait to check out all of your pages, and I wanted to say a big Mrs Nipper Knapp HELLO to all of you. But also I need a nap. I haven't taken my eyeballs off a screen for more than 5 minutes in the last 168 hours. I'm helping Nipper Knapp color correct, and add subtitles to the pilot we shot for the NYTVF which is due in oh, I don't know 5 or 6 mintues. I'm waiting on some lookalike (of us) figurines to come from Urastarhouse on etsy to photograph for the title card, for that project. They're going to look something like the picture above. I can't wait to see them. They should get here the day before we send the show Fedex to NY. So, sign for package, unpack, arrange, shoot, insert into pilot, repack, Fedex, No pressure.

I'm starting work on my next film project (details soon). We're having Jack's birthday party this weekend. He's going to be 3. I'm so proud, and also slightly devestated, because I still refer to him sometimes as "the baby". I'm making an R2D2 cake. (disasterous details to follow) My mother is coming on Friday. I'm writing this post while the color correction filters are renerdering, in 3-8 minute increments. Lord someone get this woman a chair!

Ok, so I'm gonna take a couple of days off writing here. Just a few I swear. I just need to look directly at my kid without my eyes wandering over to the macbook. I don't want you guys to see me with my guts hanging out. Too late. I know. (she's got a lumpy body...) In the meantime, enjoy this. If your life is anything like mine lately, it'll take you a few days to watch all 15 minutes:

Feliz Navidad

This is my niece Anoushka. She's awesome. She's in kindergarten but next year she's going into second grade, because she's a genius. She's travelled to India three times and she's only 6. That flight would make me cry and pull my face off, but she handles it like a champ. She's cool. When she was 2 she flew to Australia with her parents. While they were groggy and jet-lagged trying to figure out the international plugs in the hotel bathroom, she piled all the pillows from the room on the floor making a ladder into her crib, and fell asleep. She'll probably be an astrophysicist or president or something like that. But no pressure.

Today I received confirmation that she does indeed share's my DNA. As some of you who know me know I love Christmas music. Mostly just old Christmas music like Nat King Cole, and The Rat Pack, and Ella Fitzgerald singing those old timey songs. But I also love me some Run D.M.C. Christmas is Hollis. I've been known to listen to it in July, and I even have a Pandora station that plays nothing but. So when my brother Josh sent me this picture this morning, I thought "Oh little one, the judgement you'll have to face in your life! I'll be there for you." It's June 13th. Never too early to let Santa know what you've got your eye on. That guy gets busy later in the year. Well done sugarplum. Santa is headed to the great internet mall workshop with your list right now.

In solidarity with my elvish kin, I made myself a gingerbread latte this morning. Yes. Yes I do have a secret stash of Starbucks gingerbread syrup in my kitchen. I'm hard core people. 

Sunday, June 13, 2010

I'm kind of all over the place

Ok so it's true that I made this:

But I also made these (thanks for the raised bed Dad):

Oh and four ears of corn. But they're not ready for viewing yet. They still have their tassles on them.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Wait! What? You guys have to tell me what's going on!

I'm buried under a deep soft blanket of Muffintop love and adulation, and even though THREE of you sent me an email with this link, I missed it! What is going on? Did Conan play with Jack at Bonaroo? Are Conan and Jack doing an album together. I'm so out of it. Is Conan going to do a spoken word album for Third Man Records, Henry Rollins Style? It says June 10th. Was there a private show? I know I could google this, but I'm too busy tipsy typing to do that.

Remember when you could see that your favorite band was coming to town, and just buy tickets? Remember THAT? We saw Wilco last year, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. They were both awesome. Seeing live music is like oxygen. But we had to drag ourselves to both shows. The whole babysitter, I'm going to be tired tomorrow, I'm already dead thing...

I would tag this one as #itsjustnotthesameanymore

Did I mention I've been twitter stalking the entire female portion of the staff at the NY Times, Huffington Post about My Muffintop and anyone at anywhere I can think of. What's a good abbreviation for twitter stalker?


Remember how that little girl in the movie Signs would never drink the water because it was "contaminated"? Nipper has accused me of being that girl. I've been shaking my head at him, dismissing his accusation as a symptom of his OCD need to tidy up all the time. Until I woke up this morning and saw this on our dresser. Evidence of my stale water phobia. I bring a new glass up every night at bedtime, but never drink it, and never take it downstairs. It has DUST in it! Maybe I have a drinking problem. Or maybe aliens are about to invade our farm. I'd better put on my tinfoil cap and go check the raised bed. 

Friday, June 11, 2010

Formerly perfect

My headshot from the year I met Nipper Knapp. I thought I had a muffintop then. Sigh...

Do you look at old pictures of yourself and think "My god, I was so cute. I wish I had known that then!"? I'm sure we all do that right? When I was 16 I decided that the little patch of skin at the bottom of my butt felt like chicken skin, and made me completely unlovable. How would I ever get on in the world with a chicken skin butt??? I don't want to get too personal here, but I'm looking close, and either the chicken skin is gone or my 16 year old self was a LOT more discerning about skin texture. 

My 15 year old self (no seriously that's me, and that is a discussion for another day) was however a lot LESS discerning about hairdo's. Hello princess. 

Let me introduce you to Stephanie Dolgoff of Formerly Hot. She's NYC writer who's new book is about being "formerly hot". That strange netherworld when you are no longer young, but still not old, just invisible. Oh and she's funny. Oh and I love her. Steph tracked me down after several people forwarded the My Muffintop video to her (you know you want to watch it again). We talked a bit over email, and then on the phone, and, we talked about some stuff that I feel like everyone around me is talking about, but only in private. Everything in LA is image, and if you say these things too loud, someone might realize that you ARE formerly hot, and move on to the next girl. I didn't really realize I had so much to say on the subject until she asked, and then I literally couldn't shut up. As I was waiting for her to call this morning, I started typing a novel length email about the subject of being a not old, but not young, woman, and actress. My heart is so much happier at 35 (thanks Nipper Knapp), but my ego has been taking some major body blows the last few years. I know I'm not quite the age demographic Steph is talking about yet. A woman on her blog commented that she didn't buy what I was selling because I look like Reese Witherspoon, and to that woman, I say "Yes! YES! A thousand times yes, I will marry you! Also will you be my publicist?" 

She's got a book coming out in August, called "My Formerly Hot Life: Dispatches From Just the Other Side of Young" and I can't wait to read it. Long and short of it, she's brilliant, and here's what she had to say on her blog about My Muffintop (no I will not stop trying to make you look at it). 

When Jack was 5 months old and I wore my beach cover up INTO the pool. What a dumb dumb

I'm not sure in real like I'm an official "formerly". In LA, I am most definitely a LOT of formerlies. Formerly young, formerly perky, formerly gave a shit about what you thought about her. I think that's maybe my favorite formerly.  And mom, before you pick up that phone, I KNOW you think I'm still young and beautiful and can do anything. But that's your job to think that. My job is to be realistic so I don't end up like Angelyne

Where are all the muffintops?

In my day to day life at the grocery store, or mommy and me swim class, or flopped on the couch with Nipper Knapp, I still feel pretty much like me, but man oh man, at work, I feel like a BIG TIME FORMERLY. Imagine standing in a room full of 20 year old models. They're waiting for their Doritos, or Beer, or Clean and Clear audition to start. You're waiting for your Lean Cuisine, or Activia, or Fill in the blank mom product audition to start. The character breakdown is "warm, and attractive, but not overly pretty, must be fit, but not too thin, midwestern mom". You're sitting there minding your own business, happy to be there because you know that the mom jobs are where all the money is, when one of these pubescent mantises walks by and says "Oh, this isn't my audition! They must be looking for 'real people' over there". Sigh... "Real people" is a euphemism for ugly (or fat, or plain) in this business. I want to shout "Enjoy it now sassafras! You've got about 7 more years of those boobs opening doors for you and then you're going to have to get some job skills!" (I've never been good at put-downs)

Yes Ma'am that just about sums it up

I'm not complaining. I do very well. I get to work with my family. I get to be home with my family. I have a pink man cave, and a husband that LOVES my "formerly chicken skinned ass". I'm grateful for all the work I get. I wish that when I WAS young, and perky and gave a shit about what you thought of me, I had a little bit more of my new "formerly" wisdom. I wish I'd been able to laugh at my chicken skin, and my muffintop, and at those mantises, who even when I was 25 made me feel like an over the hill wheezebag who was somehow missing out on part of the joke. 

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Your love is like a tidal wave...

The future Bruins in front of Royce Hall

I'm shaking my leg, tapping my foot, checking my iphone 13,000 times a minute. I don't think I could keep my eyeballs focused on one thing even if I tried. Yesterday we took Nipper's niece to UCLA to check out the campus. She's 12. We like to plant that seed early around here. I said "just a second" so many times, I think Nipper almost chucked my phone out the window of the car. For the record, reading email, and checking facebook while at a stop light is technically not a moving violation in my universe. I'm from Venus. At one point I was trying to push Jack in his stroller up a hill with one hand, while checking our page views on youtube.
"Would you like a hand with that?" 
"What? No? Huh? Oh. Sorry."

Our muffintop double would like to remain anonymous. She's like the dancer from Flashdance.

The response to "My Muffintop" has been so unbelievably positive that I'm overwhelmed. My mother emailed me last night and said WHO are the 2% idiots who gave it a Die vote? Oh mom... I'll get their home addresses for you. My little dream of doing my Lady Gaga dance of shame on Ellen has been dashed upon the hard rocks of network schedules. She's wrapped for the summer. Not that she was going to invite us on or anything. But you know, a girl's got to have goals. 

Some very smart people have said some very nice things. Here's one of them from a MAN BLOGGER (there, I said it) our good friend Andy over at The Paperball. Merci Beaucoup to you and your wafflers. 

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Smitten Kitchen

Salted brown butter crispy treats (photo and recipe from Smitten Kitchen

I made some of these tonight. Just because. Oh also, I dipped them in melted dark chocolate. This muffintop thing is pushing me over the edge! I'm eating them right now as I type. Sticky fingers. Clickety, clack, clack, claaaaack. And for the record, today, I had a double double from In&Out burger, fries, two kinds of mac and cheese (because we serve all kinds around here), one soy latte, one iced soy mocha, a glass of petite syrah, and a glass of water. I'm ready for the gridiron.

Sleep Schmeep

maybe three days old

Look at that face. I mean look at it! It looks like one of those 3D sonogram pictures. Like he's just a glowy little fetus lying there on the bed between us. That whole "fourth trimester" thing, totally true. He was just this itty bitty helpless goob. I LOVED having him sleep in our bed. We had a cosleeper next to the bed, but for those first few months, he mostly just slept on one of us. 

Cut to last night, when a still very cute, but not so itty bitty toddler came into our room crying TWICE before midnight. I relented because I'm weak, and let him sleep in our bed, where if I'm honest he ends up every night. Only now he's a bundle of wiry muscles, all elbows and knees, oh and for some reason he shouts things like "NO Mama, I don't want to look at the spiders!" and "No! Get him" and "No Daddy, I don't want to go!" That's right baby, stuff it down and only let it out and night. 

We keep saying we're going to sleep train again. We're gonna put our foot down. One of us is going to lay down the law. Yeah right. There's never a good time, and it just seems easier to let him sleep with us when he stumbles in a 2am. The thought of getting out of our warm bed, making him cry, having to use reason, and logic, and you know, be a parent at that hour is too much. He also likes to sleep sideways between us, with his head burrowed over my pillow and his feet just in kicking range of Nipper's face. Delightful! There's also the new "fake crying" sound, sort of a "gloop" sound deep in his throat that makes him cough after he's done it 4 or 5 times. He's decided he needs to practice this sounds at regular intervals between 3 and 5 a.m., which makes for all of us being bleary eyed and cranky most mornings lately. 

I know when he grows up I'll miss us all piling in the bed, and I'll have forgotten all about the late night head butts and crazy shouting, but I'd give my pinky toe for a good night of sleep for all of us right now. Just one night where by some miracle, all three of us slept through the night until 7am. How did that become a dream come true? I've really lowered the bar on expectations. 

I've got to go now, because Jack's in the toy room pooping, and I have to go bargain with him to LET me change his diaper. I'm going to teach him to say "This one's a doozy!" when he's done. 

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Lady Gaga Pokerface

I'm kind of blown away by the response to the video. So glad every is loving it! Keep sharing it! In the meantime, I thought some of you might want to see the video that inspired it. More later on how I heard about the views on Photocinenews premier jumping from 900 to 3000 in 20 minutes, (we had over 9000 views yesterday!) and how Jack and I found a ladybug graveyard at the beach.

Oh also, My Muffintop is up on Funny Or Die now! Check it out and give it a "funny" vote, or I will have to eat all the cheese in the house by myself today.

Monday, June 7, 2010

My Muffinttop!!!

OMG You guys! Our little video had over 8600 HD video views on Photocinenews today, and crashed their server!!!! What the what?! So here's a link to it on Youtube, or you can watch it here, and the lyrics are posted below for those of you who like to know those things. Just got word that Ellen is wrapped for the summer. Boo hoo hoo. Maybe she could just come over and do the Poker Face dance with me in my living room... I'd like that.

Going to up on Funny or Die tomorrow. Whooohooooo!!!!

Sunday, June 6, 2010

My Muffintop Lyrics

I did it! I did it! I just want to thank my dear dear girlfriends who gave up lots of their precious time, and sweat like big strong men under their silly wigs. I also want to thank the BRILLIANT Lady Gaga, who I was not even a fan of until I started this project. This song so pervaded my consciousness, without every really having heard it, that one night, after putting Jack to bed, I was standing in the kitchen making myself something fatty and delicious, and I turned to Nipper and started singing "My muffintop, my my my muffintop" while addressing my own burgeoning muffintop. Nipper had no idea what I was singing, but when I played the song with him, he said he thought I should write my own lyrics and have Brett record it. Thank you Nipper Knapp. Thank you Brett making my silly parody song sound AWESOME. I am now officially a big big Lady Gaga fan. I thought I was too old to shake my booty to music like hers, but man oh man, how can you not? Nipper and I have been playing her music LOUD in the car lately. I always giggle to think of how ridiculous I must look cruising along in the prius lip syncing to Telephone. T-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-telephone...

SO here's the link to the video. is doing an exclusive 24 hour premiere. After that I'll be posting it on youtube, and vimeo, and funny or die, and here, and anywhere that will have me. I told Nipper all I want is to do my bad Lady Gaga dance with my mom friends on Ellen. I love Ellen. It's a secret. Shhhh. Oh and the lyrics are below. ENJOY!

The Password to see the full HD version of My Muffintop on the photocinenews site  is: nerdmom

Mum mum mum mah
Mum mum mum mah

I wanna button em like I did in old days
just put them on an go about my day
before this pack of kids this wasn't one of my parts
Didn't know I'd trade my girlish hips for their hearts

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh, 
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got

Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)
Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)

M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)
M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)

I used to work out, eat lots of greens
Now it's cheese poofs and mac and cheese (I love it)
Before this pack of kids my bod was the bomb
Now I take my top off and I look like my mom

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got
Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhh, ohh-oh-e-ohh-oh-oh, 
I'll get him hot, show him what I've got

Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)
Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)

M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)
M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)

I will tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm not bluffin' with my muffin
I'm not crying I'm just stunnin' with my love of glue gunning
Maybe not the girl you used to know
I'm the only one here so let's just go
I promise this, promise this
Check this hip cause it's marvelous

Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)
Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my poker face
(She's got a lumpy body)

Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my muffin top
(She's got a lumpy body)
Can't miss my 
Can't miss my 
No he can't miss my poker face
(She's got a lumpy body)

M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)
M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)

M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)
M-m-m-muffin top, m-muffin top
(Mum mum mum mah)