Showing posts with label Netflix. Show all posts

Friday, August 3, 2018

"Are You Still Kidding Me?" Guest Post by Stacey Gustafson

I'm so thrilled to share one of my favorite humor writers today on the blog, along with the exciting news that she has a NEW book coming out this fall!

I met Stacey Gustafson several years ago at the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, and we've been good friends ever since. Stacey is one of the funniest writers I know, and now she has a sequel to her best selling book Are You Kidding Me? titled, Are You Still Kidding Me? Which is coming out on September 18. If you act quickly, you can pre-order her hilarious book for just $0.99 before it is published!

Check out this blurb on Stacey's new book:

"Stacey Gustafson’s back at it again with Are You Still Kidding Me? In this hilarious and heartwarming sequel to her #1 Amazon bestseller Are You Kidding Me? My Life with an Extremely Loud Family, Bathroom Calamities, and Crazy Relatives. Gustafson tackles the foibles of modern family life—from toddlers and teens to empty nesters—with wry wit and plenty of humor.

Grab a cup of coffee, ease into the easy chair, and be prepared to laugh out loud along with Gustafson—she may not be your new best friend, but you’ll feel like she is by the time you’ve finished these forty-five stories of family life, written by a mother who’s seen it all."

Below, you will find an excerpt from her book. I can totally relate to this particular chapter, " I Netflix Cheated In My Husband," since I am a Netflix junkie.

I Netflix Cheated on My Husband

I tried ways to end my deception, but nothing worked. To protect my indiscretion, I routinely deleted my Internet browser history, shredded phone bills and swore my friends to secrecy. I Netflix cheated on my husband.

How did this begin you ask? I blame it on the old-fashioned dinner-and-a-movie routine. Our choices had boiled down to The Lego Batman Movie and Fifty Shades Darker. Why were we wasting our money on this crap? So, we traded a night out for a night in.

It all started so innocently.

Cable television options are limitless. Netflix, Amazon Prime, Hulu, HBO Now, the list goes on. No need to go to the theater when you can indulge in more than fifty hours, or five seasons of thirteen episodes. Intriguing shows like Shooter, Stranger Things, Dexter, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and House of Cards sucked us in faster than a fur ball to a Dust Buster.

Netflix, where’ve you been my whole life?

We clicked through cable channels and realized we’d only scraped the surface of the Netflix barrel.

On Saturday night, we trolled the channels and found The Killing, a crime drama based in Seattle, featuring homicide detective Sarah Linden and her sidekick, Holder. It had more red herrings than a fish farm, and we were addicted by the first hour.

“Man, this is good,” I said, after three episodes. “One more.”

“No can do,” said my husband, shaking his head. “Got to get up early.”

“Come on,” I said, batting my eyelashes. “Please.”

“Fine, one more. But that’s it.”

Season One, Episode Four, here we come.

By Sunday evening, we squeezed in Episodes Five and Six.

“Got to call it quits now,” he said, rubbing his eyes and giving me a glassy stare. “Up for work by six.”

“Okay,” I said, fidgeting on the sofa. “I’m going stay up a little and read. Night.”

“No cheating. We agreed to watch this together.”

Think again, sucker.

The glow of the television beckoned. What would it hurt? I slammed shut The Girl on the Train and clicked on Episode Seven. I snuggled into my soft throw blanket, popped a can of Coke and let the drama begin. Heck, I’d rewatch it the next time we were together. He’d never know. But I knew I’d crossed the line.

I had become a Netflix cheater.

After he left for work the next day, I thought, “What would it hurt to take a little peek?”

Bam, hooked again, and I binged-watched five more episodes.

Around 6:00 PM, I texted him, “What time you coming home for dinner?”

“Thirty minutes.”

Oh crap, he’ll be here soon.

“Can you pick up some milk and…um…um…pimentos?”

He’ll be searching for hours.

I needed to buy some time to finish Season One. I couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening. Would they catch the real killer? What’s that new evidence they keep talking about?

Suddenly, I detected the slow hum of the garage door. How the hell did he find the damn pimentos that fast? With a loud bang, the door clanged shut on the concrete floor. I hit “off” on the remote.

He strolled into the room, and his green eyes scrutinized the screen.

“Were you watching The Killing?”

“No way. We promised to watch together.”

“Where did we leave off anyway?” he said, trying to trip me up with probing questions. He clicked on the three-way light on the end table next to me.

“Hey, turn that off,” I said, holding a hand to cover my eyes. “So bright.”

What is this Guantanamo?

“Well?” he asked again.

“I think it’s the one where they discover that kid in the teacher’s apartment,” I said, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants.

“Wrong.”

“Um, I’m not sure,” I said, as I leaned in and heard the distinct drip of the kitchen faucet. My armpits sweated more than a hot flash.

“Did you watch more episodes?” he said, eyebrows pinched together, as he squeezed in between the arm of the sofa and my body until our thighs touched. “You can trust me. I won’t get mad.”

“Fine,” I blurted out. “I couldn’t help it. I Netflix cheated.”

Seriously, dude, you’ve been out of town so much I had to get my fix.

“Why?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, staring down at my feet. “It’s just so good. Never planned it to go this far.”

“Promise not to watch anymore?” he said, cocking his head to one side.

I vowed to keep my promise, turned on the television and started scrolling for something else to watch. We’d considered binging on Shooter after watching the previews on Netflix, a drama series based on a former military sniper called back into action to prevent a plot to kill the President.

But when I clicked on it, I noticed that the red bar underneath, the one that indicated if it had been recently viewed, had disappeared.

What?! Holy cow, he’s Netflix cheated on me!

I lost all sense of remorse and settled in for hours of binging on Shooter. Two can play this game.

ABOUT STACEY

Stacey Gustafson is the bestselling author of Are You Kidding Me? My Life With an Extremely Loud Family, Bathroom Calamities, and Crazy Relatives, ranked #1 Amazon in Parenting & Family Humor and Motherhood. She’s also an inspirational speaker, blogger and comedian. Her short stories have appeared in Chicken Soup for the Soul, seven books in the Not Your Mother’s Book series, and other print and online publications. Her awards include Erma Bombeck Humor Writer of the Month as well as Best Comic of the Month at Tommy T’s Comedy Club. She performs stand-up throughout the East Bay.

She lives in Pleasanton, CA with her college sweetheart, Mike, and a white furball named Stanley who loves peanut butter treats. Visit her popular blog at StaceyGustafson.com, Facebook @StaceyGustafsonWriter, and Twitter @RUKiddingStacey.

If you'd like to follow Stacey, look for her here:

Amazon

Are You Still Kidding Me?

https://amzn.to/2uPeqZX

Are You Kidding Me? My Life with an Extremely Loud Family, Bathroom Calamities, and Crazy Relatives

http://amzn.to/1j1zpQY

blog: StaceyGustafson.com

Twitter: @RUKiddingStacey

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/staceygustafsonwriter/

G+: http://plus.google.com/+StaceyGustafson

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/RUKiddingStacey

Amazon Author page: http://amzn.to/1F9PGNM

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hyRz7vlpAA&t=13s

Friday, January 12, 2018

New Year's Resolutions I Will Most Likely Never Keep

When I was young, it was easy to make New Year's resolutions and actually stick to them (well, for at least six months. Give me some credit here, folks. Swearing off chocolate for an entire year is unreasonable). Now that I'm older (sigh), I realize that New Year's resolutions are not for the faint of heart, and basically, I'm just too lazy to stick to them. My intentions are always good at the start of the year, but then life gets in the way, and I find myself slapping the snooze button on the alarm way too often just to avoid my resolutions.

This year I'm going into 2018 with more positivity....meaning that I'm pretty positive the following New Year's Resolutions are ones I will most likely never keep:

STICK TO A DIET: Losing weight and eating healthy is always at the top of my list each year before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve. This time, I was off to a great start, existing solely on celery and a bald chicken breast on the first day. But on January 2nd, I caved and split a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food with my husband. Can I have a Dec. 31st do-over?

EXERCISE MORE: I love my Zumba classes, but the downside to this workout is the personal reward system I use. "Hey, I just burned 600 calories, so that means I can eat Taco Bell tonight!" It doesn't work that way. I know this because I'm sitting here with too many tacos and not enough sweat to burn them all off.

GET ORGANIZED: This is a wonderful concept, and I have no problem doing it, especially in the kitchen. I clean out all of the shelves, throw away expired foods, and pawn all the junk food off on my adult kids. But inevitably, someone gets lazy and shuffles stuff around in the pantry. The peanut butter ends up next to the dog food, and the Basmati rice sits on the floor behind two bottles of cooking sherry. My husband is certain we have pantry gnomes and blames them for our disorganized mess. Do gnomes like Basmati rice?

TURN OFF THE TV: Let's be honest----this isn't gonna happen. I was never a fan of spending hours in front of the television, mostly because I had four young children that needed to be fed, bathed, and put to bed. But now that I'm am empty nester, I suffer from this mysterious condition that hits me every night after dinner. It's called, "This-couch-feels-really-good-and-I'm-not-moving-for-two-hours-until-I-digest-my-food." It's also known as the "I've-discovered-Netflix-and-I'm-never-going-back-to-regular-tv-again" syndrome.

MORE MEDITATION & YOGA: I started yoga about six months ago and I'm trying to make more time for it in my schedule. However, even though I have advanced, I've noticed that my stomach really gets in the way of my progress. Try doing the "Extended Puppy Pose" with a tire strapped around your waistline and you'll see what I'm talking about. I also love the concept of meditation, but when I put it into practice, I fall asleep and then wake up three hours later wondering what century I'm in.

BE MORE ATTENTIVE TO MY SPOUSE: There is a reason I bought a hot tub, but even the promise of playing "sexy mermaid" in the hot, bubbly water (in my case, it's more like a boiling lobster in a pot) is not enough to distract my husband from an NBA playoff. If only I could learn to love the game, but let's face it; I'd rather have my tonsils removed than sit through a two-hour sporting event.

WORK HARDER: I'm a freelancer, so this resolution is difficult to stick to. Why? Because I work from home, where EVERYTHING becomes a distraction: dogs barking at the slightest sound (yes, they can hear an ant sneeze), my daughter calling to vent about work, the neighbor who sunbathes nude (wait---what??), the little pings on my cell phone alerting me of Facebook and Instagram notifications (I'm easily sucked into the social media vortex), and that damn piece of cherry cobbler sitting in the back of my fridge.

USE THAT EXPENSIVE KITCHEN GADGET I GOT FOR CHRISTMAS: I have this device that shreds, dices, squeezes, and for all I know, possibly changes my incontinent dog's diaper pads, but I have yet to try the gadget. It has too many buttons and knobs and blades, and I'm fearful that I might lose a finger if I experiment with it.

STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF: If sweating the small stuff really worked, I'd be as thin as a chopstick. I need to accept that it's not a big deal if someone likes the toilet paper folded under the roll instead of over it, or that people in my home prefer to squeeze a tube of toothpaste from the middle instead of from the bottom like a NORMAL human being. Sure, I can deal, but no one better say a word about my habit of baby-talking to my pugs (don't judge---I'm an empty nester remember?).

I really feel optimistic about 2018 because I'm going into the new year with my eyes wide open....and my hands full of tacos.

***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? This week I was featured on HER VIEW FROM HOME with my husband's poignant adoption story, "How Being Adopted Made My Husband A Better Father." You can read it here: https://herviewfromhome.com/how-being-adopted-made-my-husband-a-better-father/

Friday, September 30, 2016

16 Kinds Of Thankful

I've read tons of posts in the blogosphere about gratitude. It's obvious that most of us are thankful for the same things----our families, friends, pets, health, jobs, homes, etc. But what about the little things that we often take for granted? Our lives are made easier by technology----so much so, that we often forget the small things that contribute to our daily comfort.

Some of the "little" things I'm grateful for (and that I'm convinced I couldn't live without) include:

1. Double rolled toilet paper sold in bulk packaging.

2. Duct tape. It fixes EVERYTHING.

3. Nibble calories that don't count, especially at Costco when they hand out free food samples.

4. Plug-in air fresheners for the car to deter man sweat and the ghosts of old farts.

5. Dri-FIT wicking underwear that prevents chafing at the gym. Nobody wants to explain why there's a rash on their crotch.

6. Cheese. It's the international language of love.

7. Stretch pants. 'Nuff said.

8. Undereye concealer, especially after a long night of playing "Name That Tune" with Mr. Insomnia.

9. Bug repellent. My only defense against blood-sucking mosquitoes and the Zika Virus. No worries---I'm too old to get pregnant with anything other than a food baby.

10. Hair dye. It conceals all the grays my children have given me. I've already gone through more rainbow colors than a packet of Skittles.

11. Wine....my bottle of liquid relaxation after a stressful day.

12. Floss. The tight spaces between my teeth are like mini storage compartments. I could live off the trapped food particles in my mouth for a month if I didn't floss regularly.

13. Deodorant. Especially when I'm standing in a long line at Disney World and it's 90 degrees outside.

14. Air conditioning. I live in south Florida, which means the A/C pretty much runs all year long, especially since I'm menopausal.

15. Naps. Now that I'm older, my priorities have changed. Naps are at the top of my list, followed by food, Netflix and sex....specifically in that order.

16. Chocolate, because it makes the world go 'round....and it's cheaper than Prozac.

***WANT MORE MENO MAMA? I'm thrilled to be interviewed on Too Full To Write this week! Check out my funny interview here: https://toofulltowrite.com/2016/09/29/author-interview-marcia-kester-doyle-who-stole-my-spandex-life-in-the-hot-flash-lane/

Friday, February 6, 2015

The Little White Lies Women Tell Themselves

Little white lies. We're all guilty of using them, whether it's to protect someone's feelings or to get out of attending the fifth Pampered Chef party invitation we've received in a month. We stretch the truth on the internet to make our lives sound more interesting. We tell our teens that our wallets have more cobwebs in them than an Egyptian tomb to avoid paying for a concert we secretly don't want them to attend.

White lies are used to avoid the truth about ourselves and our loved ones. We use them to validate our actions, manipulate situations in our favor and to help sidestep conflict with others.

Many of my female friends are very sensitive to the feelings of others and confess to using white lies whenever necessary. For instance, they would rather shave their heads than tell their husbands that they really didn't want a nose hair trimmer for a birthday gift, or that their friend's expensive bridesmaid dress looks more like a gunny sack dunked in a vat of Grey Poupon.

My own mother is guilty of telling me little white lies when I was a child. "If you eat all your carrots, you'll always have good eyesight"…. WRONG. I consumed more carrots in my youth than the entire rabbit population at the local pet store, and I'm still sporting 2.5 readers. She also told me that calves liver is an acquired taste. Thirty years later and I still gag when I smell it frying in a pan with onions.

Here's a list of the typical white lies that many women tell themselves:

*I'm only baking these chocolate chip cookies for the kids.

*All I need is five more minutes of sleep, and then I'll get out of bed.

*The kids won't notice we're eating leftover tuna casserole two nights in a row if I bury it under a mound of cheese.

*I refuse to give away my size 6 clothing because I'm sure I can lose these last 20 pounds of baby weight.

*My husband doesn't need me to remind him that our anniversary is coming up.

*I don't waste time on Facebook or Pinterest.

*I can quit eating sugar and salt anytime.

*My husband won't notice that I spent a fortune on yoga clothes but haven't been to the gym in six months.

*One more glass of wine won't affect me.

*I'm not sleeping…. I'm just resting my eyes.

*My husband will never see the extra charges from the Ikea store on our credit card bill.

*I'll wake up early tomorrow to finish the project.

*My co-workers won't care if I re-heat broccoli in the lunchroom.

*The kids won't mind if we use their inheritance to invest in a billy goat farm.

*My husband won't notice that I haven't had time to wash my hair in three days.

*I'll start my diet on Monday.

*My daughter won't be angry if I tag her on Facebook with an old photo from her awkward, prepubescent years.

*The calories from the bites off my husband's dinner plate don't count.

*I'm sure my boss will be understanding when I call out of work for the third time this week with a sick toddler.

*I dance so much better after several vodka martinis.

*Just one more bite and then I'll stop.

*No way was she born with a perfect body like that.

*My son won't mind if I show his new girlfriend twenty hours of old family videos.

*I swear I didn't eat the last slice of pizza. It must have been the dog.

*I'm only going to watch one more episode of Orange Is The New Black on Netflix before I go to bed.

*I don't need to write down that information because I have a mind like a steel trap.

*I can't understand why I'm not loosing any weight. I haven't cheated on my diet at all.

*My husband won't be disappointed when I claim another headache for the third night in a row.

*I can't throw away my collection of Hello Kitty socks---they might be worth a lot of money one day.

*Of course I'm on my way there. I left ten minutes ago.

*I'll buy these jeans one size smaller because I know I'll fit into them eventually.

*No, really, you don't have to get me anything for my birthday.

*My life would be perfect if I won the lottery.

*I don't snore.

*It's perfectly acceptable to steal chocolate from my kids' Easter baskets and hide in the bathroom to eat it.

*I'll be ready to go in just a few minutes.

*Of course I love your new hairstyle. That purple mohawk really brings out your eye color.

If ten or more of these apply to you, welcome to the Little White Liar's club. Now pass me that plate of cookies---- the kids won't notice if we eat them all. We can always blame it on the dog.

Menopausal Mother

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