My Re-Cycle Bin, My Life: Tips for Wannabe Spies

Have you ever heard of this guy Anthony Pellicano?  It seems he was Hollywood's most notorious private investigator.  Pellicano P.I. claimed he could find enough evidence in someones garbage to prove he was a murderer, money launderer or the father of Michael Jackson's kids. 

I've never met Mr. Pellicano (although he may have proved otherwise had he sifted through my junk on bulk day.)   I'm sure that he could have figured out my name, rank, serial number and ShopRite Price Plus Club card number if he sorted through my recycling can on any given Thursday morning.  I want to give proper credit to Inspector Pellicano since he is currently in the slammer but anyone who can read and stand the stench of mold could figure me out having never set eyes on me. 

Along with the usual newspapers, credit card offers and Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes applications The Average Joe need only to flip though my abundant and eclectic magazine subscriptions.  So long as the pages aren't covered by used tissues and Lysol (I don't want mice making nests) I could be accused of being a Victoria's Secret supermodel impostor who practices yoga with a shoe fetish. 

In the past few months I've been prompted to provide a biography.  Blogs ask for it, on-line magazines too as well as the seemingly endless "funny mommy blog" ranking sites.  This is necessary to do to build a readership and “replenish the ol' coffers.”  It's not that I mind answering this extraordinarily broad question.  It's just that a small "About Me" paragraph does not do me justice.  Moreover, I think it would bore the daylights out of anyone who read it. 

Being the clever cucumber I am I thought of a more colorful method to tell a little about myself and write my autobiography while I'm at it.  You guessed it.  Magazines!  Not to worry.  I won't bore you and let you figure out that I was Gallant, not Goofus from Highlights.  I'll keep my reading list current; I imagine an editor or potential employer could would give a rat's arse about my adolescent delusion that I was Betty from the Archie's Comics.

I faithfully read or peruse these fine publications.  If my buddy Anthony Pellicano wasn't in the big house I bet you he'd sum up my life in a nutshell.  See if you agree.

• Victoria's Secret
• In Style
• Family Circle
• Prevention
• Country Living
• Knit and Crochet Today
• Yoga Journal
• Parenting
• Bon Appetit
• The Star Ledger Weekend Edition

Lisa is a lingerie hoarder but typically not a wearer. With three kids in the house timing for sex is essential.  Whatever she wears, be it a towel or dingy sweatpants will just come off quickly anyway.  She has one or two favorites when she and her husband can get a weekend alone every six years. 
She traded in her tailored suits, blouses and pumps for jeans, yoga pants and hoodies years ago when she became a stay at home mother.  She likes to keep up with the latest fashion styles in the event she gets her rear end back to work or God forbid she has to go to a funeral.  More than likely she won't be able to afford a $875.00 dress so she holds on to her Kohls flyers as back-up.

Clutter is inevitable in a home with five people and a dog.  Not an issue of some family magazine goes by without a "De-clutter Your Home" article.  Moreover, Lisa doesn't want to seem selfish so reading material for the whole family is readily available.  She knows every trick in the book to remove blood stains and how to save money (although getting rid of cable TV is not on the table.) 

Lisa is all about healthy living.  She's determined to keep her kids away from the germ incubator that the pediatrician's office is.  There is no shortage of anti-bacterial soap, Germ X or bleach in her home.  While she can't talk her husband into taking fish oil capsules she need not worry because he's the type to sleep on the couch if she so much as coughs.  Her children have come to admire Dr. Oz and willingly eat one apple a day and beets. 

She's not so uppity to expect living in an apartment on the Upper East Side but she can't see why the average person can live in a log cabin in the woods with indoor plumbing next to a lake.  A small boat isn't imperative but it would be nice.  She makes the best of it in her Colonial home in Jersey.  It is normal to cut out pictures of wrap around decks, Shaker furniture and rustic ceiling fans isn't it?  After all they may come in handy when she wins the lottery and buys and decorates Loretta Lynn's Ranch in Hurricane Mills, TN.

Lisa was not the athletic or musical type back in high school.  She was a good student but never once make the cheer leading squad.  In fact, she was booted from drum majors at a practice.  Let's just say that she and Bobby Brady never won a trophy.  Not even for an ice cream eat off.  Thanks to spurts of patience, cheap yarn and an old German lady to teacher, she can now qualify knitting and crochet as viable talents.  Mind you she only makes scarves but they do count.

Yoga is one of the only stress relievers in her life.  She belongs to a studio and has every DVD Denise Austin put out.  Actually doing the poses is rarely an option.  In her mind reading about it and day dreaming about the perfect Tree Pose is just as good as guzzling a few Xanax.

She is the consummate parent.  Her children are always angels, they never pee on the toilet seat and they eat whatever she makes for dinner (do you recall, even beets.)  She's studied the format of mommy magazines for years; she scours formats and styles so the launch of her own publication, "Go The Hell to Bed Already!!!," will look unique.  One cannot ever have enough Pampers coupons either.  Seriously, they never expire!

According to Lisa, slow cooking everything from a London broil to french toast counts as a gourmet meal.  Every dinner comes complete with candle light (one Vanilla Cupcake Yankee Candle,) dim lighting (there's always a burnt out light in the ceiling fan,) and soft music (typically Lemonade Mouth.)

She prides herself on keeping up with current events.  Actually only Thursday through Sunday.  There's always cable news to watch political bickering and natural disasters.  Four days of sales flyers and coupons totally trump reading obituaries all seven days of the week. 

In summary Ms. Poltz tries her damned best to be perfect.  Her head says she's no dream wife or mother but I can tell you she feels like a queen as she lives vicariously one page at a time through these rags.