“I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally. ”

― W.C. Fields

“For the record, I think you’d be better off expressing your bad-ass side with art rather than a midlife tattoo. Tattoos are like permanent bell-bottoms.”

– Jonathan Adler, My Prescription for Anti-Depressive Living

If my day today was a country western song, it would be called:

I’M STUCK IN A BOWLING ALLEY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY LISTENING TO COUNTRY WESTERN MUSIC.

And not in a good way.

It’s that day of the week again . . . time to give away free stuff. Otherwise known as Wednesday at Casa Gaskell.

This week, I’m giving away a signed copy of my book, WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT.

Here’s what you have to do to enter:

(1) Like me on Facebook and/or Follow me on Twitter; and

(2) In the comments below, tell me if you have Memorial Day plans. I think ours are going to center heavily around ribs on the grill and the beach. But not necessarily in that order. Unless we suddenly develop a taste for barbecued pork for breakfast. Which, actually, is entirely possible.

Contest ends on Tuesday, May 29th, at 5:00 PM EST.

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”

– Douglas Adams

A few months ago, I bought a Groupon for a local boot camp exercise group. I then ignored it for two months, despite Groupon’s repeated email reminders to use the damn thing.

Finally, out of excuses, I started last Wednesday.

The first day was tough. And the second. And the third. In fact, it got harder as the week went along, mostly because by the third day, I could barely move. I hobbled around like a little old lady in need of a cane.

Also, I realized I am incapable of doing the following things: headstands (!), rope climbing, and something called ‘burpees’ (which the instructors – who are all around 18 and have no body fat – seem overly fond of).

I worry that at the next class, they’re going to produce an alligator and insist I wrestle it.

“Oh, you hate your job? Why didn’t you say so? There’s a support group for that. It’s called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”

– Drew Carey

I don’t like feet. They gross me out. I especially don’t like long toe nails, the sight of which causes my gag reflux to kick in.

I’m also not a big fan of tattoos (although no hate mail please; if what I see kicking around the playground is any indicator, this puts me in a minority). And, as I mentioned yesterday, I’m not a fan of evening events that don’t involve cocktails.

And, yet, somehow I spent last Friday evening looking at this:

Technically, I was in attendance to watch Sam’s karate belt testing. However, the testing lasted two-and-a-half hours, during which my child kicked and punched for all of 3 minutes. I had to fill the remaining time by staring at these feet.

She was wearing toe rings, by the way.

Do I get a tiara and mother-of-the-year sash for this? I was sort of hoping for those on Mother’s Day, but neither materialized.

I am not a natural leader. I vastly prefer being one of the followers, never in charge of anything. This leaves me free to point out just how the person who is in charge is screwing up their job, while not having to actually do anything about it.

But, every once in awhile, I’m thwarted in this quest to avoid responsibility.

Take, the other evening for example.

My son’s school has a 25-hour volunteer requirement for the families of each student. It’s not too onerous. That is, it’s not, unless you completely forget about it, and suddenly find yourself spending three hours filling water balloons for the end-of-the-year school field day.

(A job – as I learned last year – that completely sucks. Especially when you’re trying to fill them on a chilly night, and every other balloon breaks. And then, once you finally have a couple dozen of them filled, and you ever so carefully place them in a plastic bucket, they all fucking break at once. Total nightmare.)

Wishing to avoid a repeat of last year’s water balloon fiasco, this year, as soon as a call went out looking for volunteers for our school book fair, I sent back a breezy email, offering to help out.

This was somehow misinterpreted as an offer to be in charge of the entire damn thing.

At first, I thought I’d be okay. I had a co-chair, and she seemed quite on top of things. She’d send me emails telling me what she’d done, and I’d reply, complimenting her on how well she was doing. It seemed like a perfect relationship . . . right up until I got an email from my co-chair announcing that she and her family were departing for Europe for the remainder of the school year, and I was suddenly on my own.

Crap.

The thing is . . . the book fair went okay. Mostly. There were a few snafus, but nothing major. On the whole, everyone seemed to have a good time. They bought books, which was the point of the whole thing. And – shockingly enough – the people in charge have already asked me if I’d be willing to chair the event next year.

Still. I’m not convinced that leadership is my forte. I’m just not a fan of any sort of evening activity that doesn’t involve tennis or cocktails. Or, preferably, both. So we shall see.

Maybe I’ll be the first mom ever to throw a cocktail party themed book fair?

This week the big prize is two signed copies of books from my Young Adult series, GEEK HIGH.

In order to enter, do the following:

(1) Like me on Facebook and/or Follow me on Twitter; and

(2) In the comments below, tell what your current favorite TV show is. I need to find something new to watch. Is GAME OF THRONES any good?

Contest ends on Friday, May 18th, at 5:00 PM EST.

Good luck!