August 28, 2013 § 6 Comments
Well before the Trayvon Martin verdict, I had seen, heard and read about white people dismissing the racial context of the case. Some do this artfully and skillfully; others, not so much. I’ve been wanting to explore some of these maneuvers more closely for a while now. « Read the rest of this entry »
August 26, 2013 § 15 Comments
So, you know how so many people post Facebook status updates the night before the first day of school? “Lunches are packed! Kids in bed! Backpacks ready! Forms filled out! Relaxing with a glass of wine and hubby!” And it’s only 8 p.m.? Some dear friends of mine – and I hope they still are after reading this – but please indulge me in a rare public bitchy moment.
I frikkin’ HATE those status updates. They shouldn’t, but they make me feel like SUCH a loser mom – I rarely, if ever have my shit together like that. For one thing, it’s usually 10:47 p.m. when I read them, and the kids are all still awake and I’m about to go grocery shopping (sometimes at the gas station “convenience” store) for the first time in 10 days so they don’t eat uncooked ramen noodles for lunch on their first day of school.
Not this year. It’s payback time, beyotches. This year, I AM THAT MOM. Last night the youngest was in bed by 10 p.m. (unshowered, but hey – you can’t have everything,) grocery shopping was done (4 days earlier,) and I was in my pjs (unshowered, but hey – you can’t have everything,) – do you hear me??? I made banana bread* batter (the only bakery item I know how to make from scratch,) stuck it in the fridge, and woke up at 5:30 a.m. to get it into the oven. Let me tell you, by 7 a.m., that sucker was PERFECTION. I had it buttered and lovingly arranged on a Bounty paper towel for my eldest to have on her way to school. Right next to her bottled Starbucks frappacino. Then, after some Marx Brothers-like confusion and car-jockeying because we hadn’t figured out yet which one of us was going to drive her to school, she was off for the first day of school.
Never mind that my eldest is almost 17, and I’ve been on Facebook for five years now, and that I am only NOW boasting about something of this nature. But I’m BOASTING, BABY!!!!! SUCK IT, LOSERS!!!!
(Cue thunder and maniacal laughter)
*A little bonus story: I’ve been making this for years – got the recipe from Dave’s mother. When we were married for less than a year, I did something similar – waking up early to get the banana bread in the oven for him to bring to some office potluck. Then I showered and attempted to wake him up. He was immovable. So, I stood next to the bed and said, “Hey, Dave. There’s a naked woman in front of you and a banana bread in the oven.” He raised his head up, lifted an eyebrow and said, “Banana bread?”
August 18, 2013 § 20 Comments
Well, there was no Captain Steubing, and it was not the Love Boat, but we sure loved the boat that took us on vacation. Here’s a random re-cap.
1. No wi-fi and/or texting is a blessing. The end.
2. Just kidding!!! There’s more! Angel (pronounced “Ahn-HELL”) was our dinner waiter, and Marko was his assistant. I learned halfway through the trip (and that was too late) that I should not ask Angel his opinion about more than one entree. This is because he would proceed to bring me each. entree. Five of us at the table, and we routinely had at least seven entrees on the table at one time. By the end of the week it had progressed, we never arrived at dinner without at least one appetizer already on the table because he wanted us to have them, and it was not unusual for six or seven desserts to appear by the end.
3. Related to #2 above, our rooms were on the 2nd deck. The pool was on the 9th. In an effort to stem the tide of flab resulting from #2, I did use the stairs almost exclusively. 16 steps to get from one deck to the other. Yes, I counted. Thankfully, the nearest bar was on the 4th deck. But even with that, I managed to log at least 20 flights of those steps every day. Because ping-pong on the 9th deck, that’s why.
4. Don’t bother with the “Shopping Talk” before you dock. It is interminable, and almost exclusively about the jewelry you can buy in port. As with Angel and entrees, I realized this way too late, and was already committed to hunting down a couple of really cute, but expensive watches. Once in Bermuda, I was on a mission, I tell you.
5. It’s true what they say. Unplugging from the internet truly does unclutter your mind. Think about how much multitasking your brain must do – how many times it must change gears, simply going from one friend’s FB status update to the next. How many times do you click on a link they post to read about revolution in Egypt (of which I remained blissfully unaware) to the next link of a cat wearing a shark costume riding a roomba? See? I’ll bet you just clicked on that link. And now your brain has to go from being all cuted out by that cat to reading my blatherings about my vacation. Or maybe you didn’t come back…did you come back? COME BAAAAAAAACK!!!! Darn it.
6. With my uncluttered mind, the only thing I could do between feeding my face and listening to the abundance of live music aboard was to either:
a. read, or
b. play Polar Bowler on my phone, since it was the only thing I could do on it that did not require internet.
Fighting the powerful pull of a polar bear shooting down a bowling alley made of ice, I did manage to squeeze some reading in there. Of an actual book. With pages. NOT on an electronic device.
7. Here, I’m really letting my geek flag fly by confiding in you that the book I spent time reading was… “George Washington’s War (The Saga of the American Revolution)” by Robert Leckie. My dad gave it to me with high recommendations, and, well, what the hell, right? Amazingly written, its sentences have craploads of information in each one, which required me to actually read things more than one time. If you know me, that is NOT my style – I’m kind of a speedy reader. But I did read it slowly, and some of it several times over, because the writing was so beautiful and artistic.
It’s also filled with frikkin hilarious descriptions of the people in it. Here’s how he paints Augusta, mother to (future King) George III.
Although Augusta was not beautiful or gracious, but plain with a long neck and awkward long arms, she was nevertheless well endowed with an amplitude of Germanic charms, both before and behind.
In other words, bag the face, but she had tits and ass. The book surprised me on a regular basis with stuff like that, and I’m sure I raised a few eyebrows sitting by myself and snorting with laughter. I only got to page 43 before vacation ended, but I will keep going, as I’ve got a renewed affection for reading a book rather than reading a Huffington Post article or a Buzzfeed list.
8. Karaoke is hard. No need to go into the sad, ugly details of that one.
9. It was fun, fun, FUN having my niece, Katie, and her friend, Danielle onboard the ship with us! (They had tickets – we didn’t smuggle them.)
10. Most of the ship’s talent was extremely entertaining and skilled. For example, one of the show nights had music by the decades, and the duo who sang “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” brought tears to my eyes, literally. However, some of the ship’s performers lip-synced, which I found distracting and annoying. And on a show night featuring Broadway music, I wanted to strangle whoever decided it was a good idea to change the time signatures of “A Boy Like That” from West Side Story. Don’t – DO NOT – mess with Bernstein’s time signatures, is that understood? Gah.
11. I break the rules when my kids aren’t around. One of the days in Bermuda Dave took them snorkeling, and I went to St. George to further geek out on history. I walked all around by myself, taking in the whipping posts from the 1800s
and brick-lined streets, and ended up at the Unfinished Church at the top of a hill. They began building it in 1874, and abandoned it when they ran out of money. Anywho, there was a flimsy sign that told me not to enter,
but this other chick found a way in,
and her cab driver seemed unconcerned,
so, naturally, when she left I decided I couldn’t go back to the boat without trying to get inside this place, either. I slunked around the outside of the church, and finding this weak point that would allow entry, I began to climb.
I got a few scrapes, and landed a little harder than I would have liked, but I got in! (Through the window behind me in the picture!)
It was pretty.
It was harder to get out than to get in, but I managed to climb up that gate a few pictures up and squeeze over the top. And now I can say I’ve trespassed in a church. Awwwww, yeah!
12. Showers can be perplexing. Picture a triangle 2′ x 2′ x whatever length that makes the 3rd side. Then picture one of those shower heads at the end of a hose, propped up in a flimsy clip that was just a leeeeeeeettle too big for the hose. Then picture it without warning popping out of that clip and flying (water on full-blast) all over the shower stall like a balloon with the air just let out of it. That may have happened to me. I cracked the code around 5 days into the cruise on how to keep it in the clip, but I still kept turning around to check it so it would know I was keeping my eye on it. Also, picture, if you will, the act of shaving one’s legs in such a shower. Somewhat akin to Ralph Maccio in The Karate Kid. Only with a razor in one hand and a shower head whizzing all around you because it has popped out of its clip.
13. I am totally going on another cruise. The family was dreamy, the downtime was downtime, and the water was so, so blue.
August 2, 2013 § 11 Comments
A week or so ago, I saw this on the “Being Liberal” Facebook page, and loved it.
Today, I was driving down the main street of my hometown and got stuck in traffic for no apparent reason. Then, I drove by the reason. (TRIGGER WARNING – Disturbing abortion photos. I am inserting many empty lines so that in order to see them, you must scroll down. If you wish to leave this post, now is the time.)
This is what made me late to my son’s orthodontist appointment. Why traffic was so slow. Inspired by the “Being Liberal” picture at the beginning of my post, in the waiting room I borrowed a sharpie and a blank piece of paper.
After the appointment, I parked in the next parking lot over from this truck and told my son to stay in the car. Then I approached the truck and began taking pictures of it. My legs were shaking for some reason, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was from anger, maybe it was from fear (anyone who drives this around and parks it on a main street can NOT be right in the head.) No one was in the truck, to my great relief.
I planned to leave my sign on the windshield, but I noticed the window was open a smidge. (It’s August. Can’t let the “spread-the-vicious-hate-mobile” get too warm on the inside.) Even better. I slipped my sign through the window, and it landed between the two front seats. I wish I had taken a picture of it before I sent it through the window, but here it is.
I know, I know, I could have also mentioned being an abortion-rights supporter. I figure that can be assumed. And that this particular message would gross them out even more. So, there it is.
I have, on occasion, been accused of having balls of steel. Today, I agree.