Archive | January, 2009

Writer’s block and inappropriate text messages

27 Jan

I’ve been sitting here looking at a blank screen for no less than 10 minutes. Mind is a total blank. I texted Chris and told him I was drawing a blank on the blog. His response? Write about me! I’m full of material! See, that’s just not helpful. Our conversations today were about things like, why being a drug addict isn’t all bad as long as you don’t die, how good drugs are as good if not better than sex, and fisting (don’t ask, I’m not telling. But for the record I TOTALLY didn’t know what that was.) All were hilarious conversations via text message, but grossly inappropriate for…well, for just about anyone. So I told him that he’s no help. So he texts back, unless you want to write about the four horsemen of the apocalypse and the seven seals! My response: lol, no. His response: meh.

Anyway, since Chris was zero help, I looked for inspiration online. I found this blog, called The One-Minute Writer, it’s pretty cool. Every day it gives you a topic to write about, encourages you to spend a minute everyday writing, etc. So I think I’m going to try it. It certainly can’t hurt, and maybe if I get used to writing every day I won’t get so stuck for ideas. And maybe by the time I’m 60 I’ll have the guts to submit something for publication.

A trophy, a lei and a spirit shark

25 Jan

Got back from our first competition tonight. Win? Shyeah. Fucking FIRST place and a bid to Nationals. I’m a little deaf from all the screaming and cowbells (it’s apparently our thing…loud obnoxious cowbells ringing to cheer the girls on, along with of course the deafening screaming and clapping by the entire gym parents). My ears are still ringing (no pun intended) and I have a pretty killer headache, so I’m off to bed early tonight.

They had this shark, which was like a “spirit shark”…which sounds way dumber now than it did at the time, but I digress…this shark was like dancing around the arena, and our team was like stalking it, dancing with it, etc. Then they had this girl going around throwing leis and t-shirts into the crowd. She threw a lei into the crowd of cheerleaders, and I look over and there’s Kat and 3 other girls practically clawing each others eyes out to get this lei. And the winner is…

Yes, that’s Kat. She had to knock down 2 girls to get it, but damn it, it’s a lei! Ok, I’m exaggerating, it was only 1 girl. That’s my girl, I’m so proud!

I miss Barney…

23 Jan

I came home early today to get ready for this weekend (big competition and all), and I’m just just doing my own thing and the phone rings. Since I’m normally not here in the afternoon, I checked the caller id, expecting it to be a bill collector or something. No such luck, it’s the kids’ school. I’m like, crap. Normally when the kids’ school calls during the day it’s for one of three reasons. 1, they’re sick and need to be picked up, 2, they’ve been hurt/maimed/broken some body part, or 3, they’re in trouble. In my experience, it’s almost always number 3. The kids both know that they need to be REALLY sick for me to come get them at school, and that kind of sick doesn’t usually happen in the span between when the get on the bus and lunchtime. So I’m going, it’s finally happened. One of them has fallen and broken something. Nope, wrong again.

Assistant Principal: Hi. Um…there was an…umm…incident at school today involving Katherine.

Me: (completely freaking out now) Ok…

Assistant Principal: Well, there was this boy…and you see…well…

Me: (TOTALLY flipping out now)

Assistant Principal: Well, he said he wanted to have sex with Katherine.

silence

Me: Uh, what?

Yeah, apparently some little 9 year old punk told my daughter that he wants to have sex with her. Ok, 1. Nice parenting by that kid’s parents 2. What the fuck? I never professed to be some uber great parent, but I can sure as hell teach my kids what’s appropriate and what’s not. Kids, boys especially, push the boundaries and often push too far (Davey is a perfect example of this, he just acts like a 9 year old, not a 16 year old). It’s not that I’m concerned Kat will be scarred forever, I’m just concerned about someone who obviously doesn’t get that you don’t just walk up to people and tell them you want to have sex with them. I mean not that they really get it, but still. A kid last year told Kat the same kind of thing, about how they should have sex (it’s apparently shockingly common at this age). Chris was like, oh hell no. He told her to punch them in the face, kick them in the balls, essentially beat the hell out of them. I was like, OR…you could tell the teacher. Once on the playground when I was like 8 or 9, Mark, this boy that I went to daycare with, was like, kiss me! I was like, ehh but before I knew it he was sticking his tongue in my mouth. I threw up on him and told the teacher.

She took my advice, not the throwing up part, the telling the teacher part. The Assistant Principal assured me that she took care of it. She said the boy’s mother was horrified. Can you even imagine that? I mean, yeah, it’s bad that some kid said it to my daughter, but can you imagine if it was your son that said it to someone else’s daughter? Horrified wouldn’t begin to describe my emotions. Me thinks it’s time to revisit the “what’s appropriate to say to people” conversation just in case. Man, I miss the days of Blue’s Clues and Barney.

Defending my personal space

22 Jan

So it’s no secret that I have a personal space issue. It’s like on Dirty Dancing, when Johnny says, this is my dance space (waves arms around the space between his arms), this is your dance space (waves arms around the space in Baby’s arms). People have this annoying habit of trying to hug me, and I’m like, dude. Back the hell off. I get the they’re (usually) family, that’s how normal people show affection, blah, blah, blah. I’m not normal, so get the hell out of my dance space.

Anyway, I’ve found the perfect solution to my problem. I’ve watched this instructional video several times, and am prepared to use the techniques demonstrated should the situation arise. Just a fair warning.

44

20 Jan

It’s hard to put into words what I was feeling when I was watching Barack Obama being sworn in as the 44th president. A couple of years ago, Chris read his book, “The Audacity of Hope”, and said, this is guy is amazing, he should be president. I didn’t pay any attention to him, because this is of course the guy who declares, screw them. I’m suing them every time someone pisses him off. I saw Obama deliver his 2004 speech at the DNC, and was in awe. I started thinking maybe Chris was on to something. 2 years ago when this whole election really got going, Barack Obama was a loooooong shot. Hillary Clinton has been anointed the next president, and no one ever thought that Obama had a chance. Last year, when the voting started, there was something stirring, people who supported Obama heard it and had seen it. And then there was Iowa. Chris and I watched and cheered, completely blown away that he’d won, and that Hillary was a distant third. We started to think that this might actually happen.

Last February, he came to the Bangor Auditorium. Chris and I waited outside in bitterly cold weather for hours and hours, with thousands and thousands of people to hear him speak. The line to get in the building stretched a mile around the block. 5000 people were let in, we were fortunate enough to be 2 of them. At least another 5000 were turned away. The air in the auditorium was electric, and absolutely amazing. Obama spoke and Chris and I were in stunned silence. This guy MUST be elected. It would be the dawning of a new era, a better tomorrow for our children, a better America. The hope that filled us made us feel like singing. Our souls were stirred, our spirits soaring.

The election went on and on and on. We had to suffer through 23847239874 debates, the “will she or won’t she” drama of Hillary Clinton, moose hunters and crusty old men. (My favorite quote of today, “A well-placed Republican operative emails: “As I watched Biden take the oath of office, I thanked God that it was not Sarah Palin up there.”“–I couldn’t agree more). And then finally, November 4th, Barack Obama won.

So here we are, Barack Obama has now been sworn in as the 44th president of the United States. After a history tarnished with slavery, and firehouses being turned on black people in the streets, segregation and civil war, burning crosses and dreams of a promised land, we, the American people, with one act, with one hope, and with one purpose chose a different path. Today re-writes history for our children, and while it doesn’t erase the pain of yesterday, it gives us great hope for tomorrow.

Global warming and garden gnomes

15 Jan

So I’m sitting here in January enjoying the most kick ass heat wave. It’s really more of a dry heat, it’s a balmy 4 degrees. It’s a high of 8 today. Tonight it’s supposed to be 13 below zero, which should be fun for outdoor activities. We’re actually kind of lucky though, there was some places in Wisconsin, Minnesota and Northern Maine that were 47 below with the wind chill. I can’t even comprehend that kind of cold. I did learn though that skin freezes in 10 minutes at 43 below zero. I have no intention of testing this theory, I’m going to just take this on good authority (the National Weather Service). It’s apparently like 89 today in California. We hate them. Seriously, it’s been said before, but it must be said again, if global warming keeps up, I’m going to freeze to death.

The other night I was flipping through the channels with Chris and landed on the Home Shopping Network. Nate Berkus was on, who I love from the Oprah show. He had on all these really cool pillows which I decided we needed to have for the living room. I was like, don’t you love those? He was like, ehh. No. Apparently Chris hates pillows. I went online and showed him all the different styles and colors and he was all, babe, they’re pillows. I don’t like them. I’m like, what don’t you like about them? Do you want a different color? Different pattern? He’s like, no, no, no. I don’t care how they look, I hate pillows. This is not the first time I’ve encountered his strange phobias. He also has an aversion to seat cushions, which is just weird. He doesn’t seem to mind pillows if they’re totally attached to something, like the back of a couch, or a really puffy recliner, but try to get throw pillows and he gets all crazy. I could understand if I’d tried to smother him with a throw pillow or something, but I totally wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t risk getting spit or face dirt on my good pillows, they’re really hard to clean. No, that’s not true. Any good dry cleaner could take care of stains. You know, this reminds me, he also has a fear of garden gnomes. Perhaps he’s not afraid of me smothering him…perhaps he’s afraid of garden gnomes smothering him with throw pillows…

P.S. I totally wouldn’t really smother Chris. He’s way stronger than me. And besides, I always “get” him wrong. A couple of weeks ago, he took out the trash and I thought it would be funny if I sprayed him with the faucet sprayer. He walked in and I aimed and hit him right in the chest. He was like, AHHHHHH! Son of a bitch baby! That’s HOT water! I was like, awww. I didn’t mean to scald him, just get him wet. This is why I don’t mess with Chris, it always goes terribly wrong.

P.P.S. The fear of garden gnomes is called gnomophobia. For real.

P.P.P.S. I’m totally getting a garden gnome for my garden. Who needs throw pillows to scare your husband when you have garden gnomes? *rubs hands together and laughs manically*

P.P.P.P.S I fear may regret this decision…