Cardiogirl: 19% body fat 100% fun

I have been waiting to watch TLC’s new show, “Long Island Medium” for a while now. But I can never remember when it’s on so it’s sheer luck if I catch an episode. And, as luck would have it, the stars aligned last night and I saw not one but two episodes back-to-back, gingah!

Two thumbs up.

Here’s the premise, it’s a reality show that follows Theresa Caputo — a psychic medium — around town somewhere in Jersey. I think I’d enjoy myself in Jersey. (Edited: Until Long Island is captured by New Jersey it will continue to be a neighbor to New York City. I can’t take myself anywhere.)

Her full-time job is to send messages to the living from the dead. She’s sort of like a spiritual UPS guy. She says the spirits come to her and she feels compelled to tell the corresponding person what they’re saying.

For instance, she dropped her car off at the garage and she felt a message waiting to be shared. It was for the mechanic who was going to fix her car. His dad was speaking, through the medium, telling him that he knew of his grandchildren who were born after he died and that he’s proud of his son the auto mechanic.

She also surprised him by asking if someone’s birthday was coming. It was the mechanic’s birthday the next day! Yay!

As you may know, I’m one pessimistic monkey. If my brother ever tries to come through, he better offer up some info that no one — and I mean no one else — could know about. And by the time he’s able to convince me, the medium is probably going to hate me and walk away. But, if she can’t provide some serious proof I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that.

Now then, I find this show entertaining and naturally it’s kicked up some questions for me.

• If a spirit can communicate through her, why won’t Jesus pop in to share a message with someone?

• Does a spirit ever ask her to tell someone that it’s *still* pissed off about that time, near those restaurants, the other person ruined her favorite sweater?

• If so, are there many spiteful spirits roaming around in some local coffee shops?

• Can murder victims come through and tell the judge who killed them?

• Will the medium accept a spiteful message from a spirit? Will she go to the other person and tell him that this spirit is seriously pissed and is demanding an apology?

Because if I don’t outlive a few people, I’m hunting them down and sending a few messages through Ms. Theresa Caputo.

Hunger strikes make absolutely no sense to me. I don’t get it. The only person who is hurt by a hunger strike is the person who’s clamping his jaws shut. Although I will admit I’m impressed with a person who can go without food for more than five and a half days. And yes, in case you’re wondering, a four-day hunger strike just doesn’t sound that impressive to me.

So why all this talk of hunger strikes? Because I read about the hikers in Iran who who were convicted of spying for the US and were sentenced to jail.

The two guys are still in jail but a third person, Sarah Shourd, was freed last week for “health reasons” because she found a lump in her breast. That makes no sense to me. She was in jail in Iran and because she found a lump in her breast she was released? Why can’t the guys say they have a lump in their testicles?

Anyway, while I was watching some news videos of Shourd she mentioned that she went on a couple hunger strikes while she was in jail. I find it really difficult to believe that an Iranian guard is going to give a rat’s ass about some American who refuses to eat.

Isn’t that the equivalent of a kid saying she’s going to hold her breath until she gets a puppy? Are there any political activists in the house who can break this down for me?

How does a hunger strike work, when is it considered successful and am I a jackass for even asking?

Please note that if you call me a jackass I will hold my breath until I pass out.

Parenthood has taught me a lot of weird things. This is my most recent discovery.

It’s really hard trying to teach an 8-year-old to swallow pills.

My kid has had persistent ear infections since December; we’re seeing the ENT next month which will probably result in tubes in her ears. And since she’s had some massive anxiety issues related to hospitals/medical centers since Emily took a spin in the ambulance last month, this is gonna be a real treat.

Anyway, this last round of medication came in the form of a white liquid that tasted terrible. So this time we agreed that we would ask for pills. The doctor said we could crush them up and put them in apple sauce. Yes, please. This is working out better than last time but she still doesn’t enjoy it.

So here’s what I’ve learned.

1. Necessity really is the mother of invention.

Since I don’t have a mortar and pestle I had to put my MacGyver hat on which led to using the end of a metal beater from my kitchen mixer and a ceramic coffee cup.

2. It’s not easy crushing pills.

3. It’s hard to mask the flavor of a crushed pill in applesauce.

4. And I’m amazed that people who’ve been poisoned by their spouses never tasted it in the food they were served. Before Oprah jacked up Discovery Health I saw quite a few shows about people who had crazy ailments that took forever to diagnose. And they always spent some time in the hospital recovering only to have the disabling pain return after spending time at home.

And without fail, there was always a spouse who prepared “special food” for the person with the debilitating pain. And every single time, the spouse would flip out when anyone else in the family tried to eat Mom’s “special Jello.” Hello? Why don’t red flags appear when the cook won’t let anyone else eat the food?

Regardless, I’m surprised that those folks didn’t taste something funky in the food.

I also wonder if the perp had a mortar and pestle in the house.