Friday, February 27, 2009

In touring the kindergarten classrooms on parents' night, I noticed that one of the teachers had made a large poster containing the rules for the class. And amongst those words, one contained an INCORRECTLY used apostrophe. Ah, the future of our children...I think I shall donate a copy of "Eats Shoots and Leaves" to the school.

Sometimes you get a friend request on facebook and you don't really know who the person is, but you think you recognize the name and are too lazy to further investigate, so you shrug and put them on a limited access list. However, at some point you may be shopping and think that person might be in line behind you. However, since you never knew them in the first place, you really really don't know if that is he or she. And then you have to weigh what is better, greeting a complete stranger and having them wonder why the hell you're talking to them or ignoring someone who you accepted as a "friend"  in cyberspace. And then you have to think, Well they sent me a request, if they knew me, they'd probably say hi, right? So it probably isn't them. But what if they're waiting for me to say hi first?

And then you realize these are the problems that one has when you are on facebook and accept friend requests from people you don't really know. Which is a whole other issue. 




Thursday, February 26, 2009

If you ever have an opportunity to visit the Naples Zoo, I highly recommend it.  It was at this location that my husband and son were peed on by a lion. Yes, that's right. Peed on by a lion.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Huh. Just read about a Dutch scientist who is testing a pill that helps to erase bad memories. I suppose that for people who suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome, that would bring blessed relief. Especially if it allows you to retain all your memories save that particular event. I know people who have suffered from that and it destroys you. It eats you alive. If something could give you back your life...is that a bad thing?

 But what about the rest of us? What if the average joe could do that, erase memories you deemed painful, would you do it? 

I wouldn't. I have a memory for life events that I often wish would be faulty.  My sister is able to put things behind her and get about her day. Sometimes I wish I could do that. But i can't. My memories are like a shield of armor and the weight of lead. I can lie awake for half the night rueing something that happened in 5th grade. As much as I think it would be nice to be able to forget things that haunt me or torment me, I think I need those memories in my life. It helps to keep me in check and to keep me as the person I am and not the person I was. It reminds me to be grateful for kindness when and where I find it. It helps me to determine what behavior I can accept and what I cannot. And quite frankly, I need my past in order to live my present. As painful as some things may be, they have helped to shape who I am. I would not be as strong or as empathetic or insightful or appreciative or grateful if I did not have times of strife from which to draw. I don't know if you can ever appreciate how truly amazing is the emotion of happiness  if you have not experienced its counterpart.




And today's grocery store saga.
As we approach the cashier, I said to my son, "Don't let me forget the stamps." He has a much better memory than I with my poor old multi-tasking noggin.
Me to the cashier, "I need a book of stamps, please."
Mort, "You remembered! Good job, Mommy!"
Cashier to me, " Do you usually forget the stamps?"
Me, "Oh yeah, even if I write 'stamps' across the back of my hand I forget."
Cashier, "Don't feel bad. I forget too and I'm half your age."
I stared at her in complete bewilderment, unsure of how to answer. I pegged her at mid-thirties, so one of us was drastically off our age-o-meter.
She went on to say, "You're in your 40s, right?"
Me, "No..."
Her, "Well, how old are you then?"
Me, probably having a bright red face at this point, "36."
Her, waving a hand dismissively, "Okay, so you're pretty much 40."
Me, still staring at her in abject horror.
Her, "Well, you've got 16 years on me."
Me. Please stop talking. Please stop talking. Please stop talking. Please do not continue with your observations on how much older I look than my actual age.

That is the first time anyone has ever said it. I guess I'm in that bracket now. Man. wow. What a blow! I have heard that it happens around now, but still. I guess I thought I could keep the aging process at bay for a little longer.
I was hoping my mom's good genes were running rampant through my DNA. Ugh.

Not that it makes me feel great when people think I'm significantly younger than I am, either. Getting carded is silly, but I assume they have a strict boss who has gotten busted by undercover underagers. Late 20s and I appreciate your kind but inaccurate eye. Early 20s and I worry that I come across as dippy or that I dress too young for my age.

I didn't know it at the time, but I would gladly take worrying about that as opposed to being thought older than I am. And no, it shouldn't make me feel weird. But yes, it does.

I know in my heart of hearts that my inside (27) and outside (apparently in my 40s)no longer match. But for Pete's sake, you don't need to point it out!





Friday, February 13, 2009

I love my funny little kid. I laid out his clothes for him to get dressed while I was in the shower and for the first time, he had his own ideas about his outfit. " I thought I could wear my tie for the party today," he said. Of course I acquiesced.  Not only is it good for kids to feel control and make choices, I love that he decided upon such a rocking outfit for the day. Makes his momma proud.


Thursday, February 12, 2009

Being driven insane by the wind. What makes the sound of wind so eerie and annoying? Lost power at 3 am, which surprisingly enough, woke me up. And then I felt compelled to stay awake to listen to the gusts and protect our home from it with my vigilance. 

i have been trying to stop taking Zyrtec. I can't imagine that it is good for the body to be so consistently on medication. I only lasted two days before my allergies took a turn for the worse. Maybe I can try again once the warm snap is over.

so weary today. I am having a hard time getting the party started.

Sunday, February 8, 2009


Nights out sans the four foot person in the family are always exciting. Nothing actually has to happen in order for this to be so, it's just the act of venturing into the world with a bag that contains only your own essentials and not a jumble of snacks and kleenex and crayons and odd scraps of paper and Backugans. It's exciting to use a public restroom on your own, without having first to encase said restroom in Purell coated bubblewrap, screeching, "Don't touch that!" on an endless loop. It's exciting to not have to remind anyone about indoor voices and to be able to freely swear and/or use words like stupid without cringing and having anyone remind you that those are not very kind words.

It's enjoyable to just be able to concentrate on making fun of the people around you. Case in point, there were a gaggle of 50 somethings sitting behind us at Revolutionary Road last night who may or may not have imbibed too many glasses of Zima spritzers before hitting the road. Their voices overroad all other sounds. They had horrific cigarette and whiskey infused laughs. Their conversation was peppered with inanities such as, " I think that texting during a movie is so annoying! I think it's just the rudest thing anyone can do! Kids have no idea that the light from their phones ruins the movie for everyone! I just want to snatch the phone right out of their hands!" Yes, yes, texting is almost as annoying as...loud boozy women sitting behind you and not using their inside voices perhaps? A picture of Daniel Craig flashed upon the screen and one of the lovlies moaned, "MMMMMM! Look at him." Shudder. Another interrupted herself to ask, "What movie are we seeing again?" Cue laughter.

Also enjoyable are the never fail people who come in late to an almost full theater, yelling in a whisper, "I can't see a thing!" Well...yes. That's because it's a movie. Movies are viewed in the dark. The movie has already begun, hence the lack of lights. We're very sorry. Had we known you were coming, we would have waited. These people then must march up and own the stairs, "There's no seats! I don't see anywhere to sit!" before finally admitting defeat and slinking into the front row.

However, when you do not go out at night very often, these things become more of a fascination and less of an annoyance. It's like a play being performed for your own amusement.

Next up: people who wait in a very long line at the grocery store with their very full carts and then chose to pay with a check that they can only begin to fill out once all of their groceries have been packed and placed in their cart. They cannot have filled out their check at home, or while waiting in line because the date or the name of the grocery store may change. And they have to use checks because they have never heard of these new-fangled things called debit cards and/or cash. For some reason, people who pay with checks are also unable to write their check amount properly on the first try and must go through at least three checks and many questions before settling on a figure they deem acceptable.

Good stuff. Humans are immensely fascinating creatures.








Saturday, February 7, 2009




How exactly does one suffer from allergies in the middle of winter? This is ridiculous.











Tuesday, February 3, 2009


Oh, give me a mofo Michael Phelps break. Uh-oh! A 23 yr. old smoked pot!?!? YIKES! That's never before happened to a 23 yr. old. I'm sorry....and this is news, why? Because he swims really fast? Unless he was babysitting your 2 year old at the time, hozabout you shut the hell up. In fact, an entire generation  of children born to parents who came of age in the 60s and 70s shows that even if he WAS babysitting your 2 year old, it would probably have been okay.

Oh, but he's a role model! Yeah? Says who? He's a guy who worked really hard and did really well at the Olympics. That's all he signed-up for. Why do people insist on making these people they don't even know into "role models"? Do you know who my role model was when I was growing-up? No one. Who the fuck has a role model? Sure, I thought Wonder Woman and Daisy Duke were pretty cool, but I didn't try to fly an invisible jet and I didn't try to get a job wearing short-shorts at the Boar's Nest.

What is this role model shit? Who looks up to athletes and celebrities? Isn't is silly to lament that Led Zeppelin spent their time rocking and throwing shit out of windows instead of mentoring children? 'Cause parents, that one is pretty much your job and no one else's. Now hand me my bong.