Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, OH &^%$!!, Uncategorized | Posted on 27-03-2014

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I knew I should have just stuck to shiny! pretty! sparkly! Pinterest. But I tried to play with the big kids and now, 600 people who have ever been linked even tangentially to me or my email account, have been invited by moi to “connect” on LinkedIn. One errant click of a button is all it took and now I am connected to law students, nurse managers, and police officers from here to Chicago and back! Every time I open my email I cringe, wondering which virtual stranger is my new LinkedIn bestie.

Within minutes, I received a polite email from the gentleman whose condo we are renting this summer in Hilton Head….”I’m sorry Janet, but I can’t connect with you on LinkedIn. I retired in 2010 and I’m not sure why LinkedIn hasn’t deleted my account.”

OHMAHGAWD. I hope the key code to get into the joint works once we haul ass all the way to South Carolina from New Hampshire! Don’t worry, sir, I won’t be hosting any soirees for strangers in your retirement nest egg with Dawn from Chicago and Bill from Ohio. You know how LinkedIn people bring THE PARTY. I wants my security deposit back!

Just got this email from the room mother from my middle’s class, “Hey Janet! I don’t do linked in but my hubby does. I’ll make sure he sees this. Thanks!”

No–cries inside–thank you for being so nice and not realizing what a cuckoo I am!!! I’m dying. DYING. And now I’m wondering if all the parents in oldest’s class are getting requests because I am the room mom! You send in that donation for the Family Fun Night or you WILL get more LinkedIn requests, people, okay? (I think this is an abuse of power! I am totally getting kicked out of the PTA!)

Frankly, I AM a little pissed HGTV rejected my request to connect. Ditto for you, Lumber Liquidators. Where’s the loyalty?



No really, the worst part? Is the people I sort of know like the room mommy. Little league coaches? A friend’s husband from town who I’ve met like 1.5 times? OHGODOHNO did my kids’ principal get one???? The parish priest?  The town hooker? (Ok, there is no town hooker, but if there was—oh yeah, I would have totally requested her!) Now I’m left to wonder—who is going to see me in frozen foods and think, “Why did you contact my husband/wife/great Aunt/stepcousin on LinkedIn, ya freakshow!?!”

My friend texted me about something right after LinkedInGate2014 so I had to fill her in and she texts back, “So funny—Adam just said to me, why does Janet want to be friends on LinkedIn—he wants to know did this go out to all your email friends or just him!” I replied, “Just him. #winkwink But wait, does he want to go shoe shopping tomorrow?”

She replies, “Ha ha ha! I love you!” and I’m like, “Yeah, so do 600 people on LinkedIn!”

When hubs got home from work, I felt compelled to confess my blunder–fully expecting him to be all, “What’s LinkedIn?” and shrug his shoulders. Instead he says a little too loudly for MY liking, “Oh, I know! I got like 5 requests from you–so annoying! You know, people make mistakes like that and get FIRED from their jobs!”


OH shit, husband, I am going to lose my huge ass job here at Casa de Muffin Top. Who will be in charge of arse wiping now? Please don’t report me to HR.

I might send him five more requests today. You will connect with me, husband! YOU WILL!!!



Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, OH &^%$!!, Random Rage, Suburban Madness, TMI? Says who! | Posted on 21-03-2012

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Won’t you be my neighbor?

I promise I won’t spy over your hedges, park a rusty car in my yard, and will always lend you a cup of sugar. Or beer. 

The house next door has been on the market for several months. And every time there’s a showing, the kids get all excited and shriek, “Maybe those are our new neighbors!” “Maybe!” I reply cheerfully, but inside, my heart races at the prospect of the unknown! Will they be friendly/unfriendly/TOOfriendly? Will they have noisy parties with lots of booze and debauchery? Will they have noisy parties with lots of booze and debauchery and not invite me? Will they run a Pilates boot camp in their back yard and INvite me?

Oh gawd, oh gawd, who will it be? Seriously. Having a new neighbor wouldn’t terrify me so much, except the neighbor’s kitchen window looks clear out into my back yard. And our last neighbor was an older man who totally kept to himself. I’m a hundred bazillion percent certain he wouldn’t have noticed, or given a rat’s arse,  if I were running around back there dancing like the Situation, kicking a can yelling, “Victory will be MINNNNNE!”


I was JUST thinking maybe I should take matters into my own hands and start actively soliciting some new fun neighbors (Where you going? Come back!) when I received an email from our friend and neighbor busting my chops. We’ll call said neighbor, “Badam”. Badam tried to trick me by starting the email in a complimentary fashion, but I knew better–this ain’t my first street fight.  The hammer dropped in paragraph two:

If I may, though, I’ll offer another economic tidbit that might be helpful to another of our neighbors, you, and the muffintop hubs.   Supply and demand works in a funny way.  Driving around the ‘hood you will notice a number of homes for sale.  That’s the supply part.  On the demand side, there is much that consumers look for.  A common axiom related to the purchase of real estate, which I am sure that you have heard, is “location, location, location.”  What this means is that when consumers can choose from a variety of available properties, they are likely to choose the one that has all that they desire and more – especially if it is in a good spot (i.e. location).  This probably will include their perceptions about the residents adjacent to their potential purchase.  What is my point you ask?  Simply this – that perhaps living next to a shed that is only painted on three sides says something to the potential homebuyer about the existing neighbors.   


P.S. – This is sent only as a wise-ass comment, and is not related in any way with my ARB responsibilities.  And if anyone asks, if the by-laws are read with a strict constructionist’s eye there is nothing in there specifically prohibiting a ¾ painted shed. <——-    (Good to know, Badam, shanks!)

Side note: The ARB to which Mr. HallMonitorNarcBadassBadam refers to is the “architectural review board”. You’re supposed to contact them when you make any changes to your property, which I find rather puzzling since I reside in a neighborhood of suburban tract homes that, while lovely in their ImaytrytoenteryourhomebecauseohwowyouhavetheexactsamehouseasmebutyourdoorcolorisdifferentbutIforgotmyglassesandohimsortatipsyway, 

and I’m relatively certain might be made from popsicle sticks and glue, but hey, who am I to fight the MAN?

Since I’m old fashioned, anything outside is all on my hubs. (Unless I want him to cook dinner/mop the floor/make a bed. Then I’m not old fashioned. This is how you do it, June!)  And some intel on the shed: It was installed in my backyard last year on the promise from the hubs that it would be painted, flowers would be planted in the cutesy little flower box, and shrubs would flank it—in short, it was supposed to look better than my real house! (I might have had visions of stashing myself in there with my crack Pinterest, sipping a cocktail! I’m not above partying with power tools for some alone time.)

So I forwarded the email to my MAN. I said, “Nice going, dude. Badam’s challenging your manly skillz and Imma holding the bag. If you’re looking for me Saturday, I’ll be loitering at Lowe’s hoping Yard Crashers from HGTV finds me!”

He took immediate and decisive action by responding promptly to Badam, throwing me–the woman who bore his three children, one with an epidural I KNOW was fake–under the bus, “I can’t take that much credit, only ½ of it is painted.  If I haven’t painted the back side, facing the neighbor’s house, why would the side facing the “swamp” be painted?  Come on, I only have a few hours during a day to get stuff done until my wife wants to play “kill the cooler”.”

That was uncalled for. And utterly not really false!

I felt inclined to set the record straight.

“Now…BAdam. Surely you know I’m much more savvy than you realize. The 1/2 to 3/4 painted shed is all part of my master plan. You see, the kitchen window in the adjacent property overlooks my deck and my backyard. This is unfortunate for a few reasons. If I may?

Scene one: New neighbors glance out the window to see Muffintopmommy guzzling domestic beer out of a can at 4 PM while her minor children play “Ninjago” with discarded paint brushes and snack on bags of potting soil hubs has yet to put to use on aforementioned shed.

 Scene two: New neighbors glance out the window to see Muffintopmommy frolicking in her wt blow up pool in her Miracle (but not miraculous enough–a hundred bucks, a wish and a prayer only gets you so far, Badam! You’re just lucky your wife does triathalons, mkay?) bathing suit with her screaming white Irish skin, in the shadows of a gorgeous 1/2 painted shed. 
Scene three: New neighbors glance out the window to see Muffintopmommy frolicking in wt blow up pool in her Miracle suit with her screaming white Irish skin guzzling domestic beer out of a can while her kids screech, “Mama, I thirsty toooooo!” in the shadows of a gorgeous 1/2 painted shed.”

I don’t need upstanding people moving in next door spying on my Clampett lifestyle, getting all up in my biz, calling social services and slipping Weight Watcher and Supertan brochures under my door. Do.not.need.it.
So? The shed? Well, it’s genius is what it is. That shed screams to potential buyers, “Keep on walking, Jack. Ain’t nothing to see here!”

Because we all know the best neighbors, besides fences, are NO neighbors.

By the way, what are you doing Friday night? Wanna come over and play kick the can while hubs paints the shed? Come on over if you’re not too busy with the nerd herd Hall Monitor convention!”

Now if you’ll pardon me, muffintoppers/potential neighbors,I’m off to enjoy my remaining wt solitude while the getting’s good—since hubs has promised to paint the rest of the shed soon, time’s a ticking!