Coming Up Short

For whatever reason, I have lost my funny - at least temporarily. I've been looking for her everywhere, and she must be hiding in the brush pile out back or something because I'm clearly at a loss this week. I mean, really, do I ever have nothing to say? Um, not often.

So, instead, I'll give you a boring rundown of what my life has entailed the last few days.

1. Knitting with a friend at Borders.....which is always fun. Lots of gossipy catch-up, a maple white chocolate latte, and a promise to visit for lunch this week (I'm coming on Friday!!!). She asked if I was going to weigh in on the King Middle School birth control policy, but I've finally decided against it. Not because I don't want to, but because I can't really find anything snarky to say about it; at the end of the day, I think it's probably a pretty good idea given the statistics. **Small disclaimer here: for those of you who don't live in the area, please know that there is way more to the story than the media is portraying**

2. 3 hours of swim meet watching on Saturday afternoon. Since the kid is now a "Polar Bear" she must do such things. It was hot, and sweaty, and thoroughly enjoyable. She did very well, despite being DQ'd on her butterfly and her breaststroke because her arms were not perfectly in sync......my initial thought was "she's 8, cut her a little slack" but then I was like "well, tough luck kid, tell the coach you want more practice on those strokes." And no, I'm not a total crab to my kid, she did very well on the freestyle and backstroke (2nd and 1st place) even though she had a minor mental breakdown 3/4's of the way through her 50.

3. Endless surfing of Facebook and MySpace - truthfully, I should have found some humor here. Well, I did find a little bit, but it's only funny to me because you'd have to know the person for find the humor.

4. The Spaghetti Supper for the school - again, all those parents in one room....you would've thought....but no, it was completely normal.

5. Sunday was a day of rest. Out to breakfast ghetto-style at Denny's, some knitting, endless chatting on the phone with my faraway friend in Germany and the Red Sox!!!

That's it kids. Nothing. Zip, Zero, Zilch. And it's too bad really because I typically am a tiny bit funny. Although, I do find this picture that my friend sent me mildly entertaining; he jokes that this is my future front yard - I think he thinks that all the people in Maine are mildly reminiscent of Joe Dirt. It's hard to see in the picture, but there's a sign in there somewhere that says "Daily Specials" and that sign in the left corner says "No Parking." Not sure how that works out.......

The Dumbing Down of America's Youth

I could say a lot of incredibly mean things right now about the youth of today; but I once was youthful and not so old and apparently crotchety, so I will refrain. However, I don't know that I was ever as obnoxious as the two boys that I encountered this afternoon.

As I am headed into suburbia, I see two boys - not likely older than 12 or 13 - walking out of a wooded area on the side of the street. And I glanced at them. I casually looked over at them and I did so for several reasons :: a) there's nothing back there except raspberry bushes a dried up creek bed, and all of our backyards, b) I've never seen these two boys in our little neighborhood before (and believe you-me, everyone knows everyone around these parts), c) they startled me and I wasn't sure if they were totally paying attention, and d) I live in this damn neighborhood and I'll glance at whoever I darn well please!

And I'll be struck by lightening if the smaller of the two didn't say "What chew lookin' at B*TCH?!?" as I drove by. Unbelievable. Not one to be pushed around by some punk kid, I came to a screeching halt in the middle of good old Wisteria Lane.....and I looked in the rear view mirror as I did so. The one nice thing about a station wagon is that you can see everything that is going on behind you.

Blatantly ignoring the loud protests and the pleas to "not go back there," from the kid, I threw her in reverse and started careening backwards down the street. Imagine my giddy pleasure as I caught the look on the boys faces when the VW logo was hurling straight at them; I'm pretty sure they pissed themselves. As I rolled to a stop next to these two kids I said in my every so friendly voice, "I'm sorry. Did you have something to say to me?" And I cocked my head to the side a little bit......plastered on a big smile.....you know, because I'm so nice and all.

"Uh....no, Uh, I wazn't talkin' to you. I didn't say nuthin! I waz talkin' to my boy hea, Treva. Isn't that right?" I'm pretty sure, based on the look that Trevor had, he was not the one who said anything to me and he was debating his odds on lying to keep his friend out of trouble.

"Um, yea, I guess." Trevor didn't have much to say.

So, homeboy, gangsta-wannabe starts walking down the street again and I just keep driving forward. And I egged him on.....mostly because at this point, I knew he was scared and I didn't care. I was going to make a point. Meanwhile, the kid is trying to disappear in the seat next to me because she is so clearly humiliated.

"Well, just in case you did call me a b*tch, or just in case the thought crossed your mind, I wanted to let you know that's probably not such a good idea....I mean, this is a small neighborhood and all.....you never know what might happen."

*Silence as I drive 1mph next to them.....*

"Oh, and just a thought. I'm pretty sure that your "boy" here, doesn't really have your back, so if you're going to insist on being a thug, you might want to find some different friends." And with that, I started to drive off. Then I thought better of it and rolled the window down one more time.

"One last little thing: I'm not sure if your parents have talked to you about this, but you really might want to learn how to speak English, I mean, for your own sake. And do us all a favor, ask your mom to buy you a belt, okay? I pay too much in property taxes to have to stare at your underwear. Have a nice day boys!" And then I drove off.

Now, the kid hates me because I completely embarrassed her and also gave her a lecture about how "If I EVER find out that you do something like that....." and the boy hates me because he figures that the gangsta's are going to come egg our house.

Catholics vs. Non-Catholics

Wow. It's been a few days, huh? Where have I been.......well, I've been "raaawwwther busy" as Eloise would say. And, Oh yes, I had a major computer malfunction/meltdown/I was almost crying at the computer place sort of thing happen too. That pretty much sums up the last week and a half. I was still reeling from the fact that much of my stuff was unrecoverable (and no, I am not a religious backer-upper), when this weekend arrived and I got a lesson "in Christ."

Yesterday, the kid went to a football game with Leafblower and MulletMom and their two kids.....we'll call them.....Thing 1 and Thing 2. And when she came home she says, "Mum! Did you know that Thing 1, Thing 2, and I are all brothers and sisters?"

I gave her a puzzled look and did sort of a head shake, "um, yeah, whatever" sort of thing. I was cleaning and couldn't be bothered.

"We're all brother and sisters in Christ."

Dust be damned! What?!?.

My immediate reaction was to cock my head to the side and say, "Oh, honey, that's sweet. The next time they bring it up, tell them that we're atheists." Even if it's not true, the shock value alone would have been worth the little white lie.

Or the response, "Well, that's nice of them to say. But you can let them know that we're "non-theists" and that your grandparents were Pagan's. Tell them you know black magic - they'll think that's great."

Now, I didn't say any of these things; I only thought them. And I'm still not sure if I'm mad that they persistently talk about religion when she's over there or not. What truly irks me is that they don't consider that we might be Jewish, or Buddhist, or anything other than Catholic.

We're not religious people, but we're not non-religious people either. We don't got to church, but we believe that someone bigger than us is controlling things. We don't force religion on the kid, but we believe that as life goes on, she'll figure out what she wants to believe it; that exposing her to many different religions is not a bad thing.

At the end of the day, shouldn't our good Catholic neighbors be considering the fact that not everyone is Catholic and teaching their kids tolerance? Instead, they're telling their kids that lefties got to hell.......

I'd better tell the boy to suit up, he's apparently spending eternity in the flaming inferno.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

From the moment our children are born, we have high hopes for them. Some want their kids to be just like them, others hope that their children will be nothing like them, and then some of us fall right in the middle: hoping they inherit the good, and are smart enough to ditch the bad.

For anyone who has met my kid, live and in person, you know that, not only does she look just like me, her mannerisms and her genuine talent for saying the most sarcastically inappropriate things at all the wrong moments are indeed, true to her genetic makeup. And although I wish she would temper the sarcasm at times, I can think of worse things she could have inherited.

For example, my Type A personality. A trait that I have only recently learned to embrace and somewhat control, I spend my days wishing I could be just a bit more laid back - just not as laid back as the boy. Unfortunately, I'm afraid she might be Type A.

The first indication was the other day when we were at Staples. She almost had a meltdown because I would not buy her a whiteboard. Initially, I thought she only wanted it to draw on and I assured her that she had plenty of art supplies on hand to draw with. But then she said "I need it for my schedule, so I know where I'm supposed to be!" It was at that moment that I began to suspect that the Type A demons were knocking on her frontal lobe. So, I bought the whiteboard, because I knew the level of anxiety that not knowing your schedule can bring on.

The next morning, I saw this and I knew that the demons had indeed landed. Pretty soon, she'll be obsessive compulsive about the spelling too.

Dear Miss Manners :: Vulgar Connections

As promised, we're starting Miss Manners. This weeks question comes from page 68....the question posed to Miss Manners was this:

Q: I have a nephew who is delightful and has charming manners. however, he has regrettably become enamored of a young woman beneath his station. The young woman (I cannot call her "lady") delights in recording offensive but humorous (in her mind) messages on my dear nephew's telephone answering device. How can I convey to my nephew the shock I feel upon hearing these culgarisms without sending him straight to the woman's defense - and her arms?

A: You are indeed correct that any attempt to drive your nephew away from his friend would have the opposite effect. Why do you not, therefore, reverse directions? Naturally, if you criticized her, he would defend her. What you must do is to say what a lovely person she is, and suggest that he offer to help her with her unfortunate taste lapses. If that doesn't do it, nothing will.

2007 A: Oh Gentle Reader, why are you so concerned with what your dear nephew is doing? And, why are you listening to his telephone answering device? Would that be on his cell phone or his land line? In either case, today's kids are doing far worse than leaving vulgar messages on each other's voice mail; just look at Britney Spears and her panty-less escapades. Be happy this is all you know about your nephew's extra-curricular activities.

My advice is this: spend less time worrying about Johnny and his girlfriend and a little more time playing Bridge with the girls. Oh, and keep living under that rock, okay?

Do Men Wear Scrunchies?

I made a brief stop at the market yesterday to pick up some goods for dinner, and also for the Red Sox game on Friday night and got in line behind a man, with shoulder length grey hair, pulled in to a ponytail. On his left wrist he was wearing a floral print, flannel, scrunchie; on his little finger was a pinky ring.

Now, we know I always reserve judgment (ha!), but, really, do men wear scrunchies? Or is that just some bold new fashion statement that they're trying to get started here in el-Maine-o?

I Think This Stuff Only Happens to Me

So, after I dropped the kid off for her swim practice last nite, I headed to the public library to get some books I needed. Heading on down to the first floor, I decide to make a pit stop in the the little girls room. Imagine my surprise as I bolt thru the door and run smack in to a woman, naked, singing about poop. And yes, I only wish I were kidding. She also happened to be in the bathroom that is right next to the kids library room; thank God it wasn't little Sally Someone that went walking in there first.

Butt naked. God.

You know, earlier yesterday, a friend of mine and I were talking about the "good ole days" when we both used to work with prisoners. He used to do transport in a different state, I used to work with them here, right in their comfy little housing pods at the County Jail. Either way, you see some of the strangest stuff. And when I was working with them, the most interesting character I met, by far, was BatWoman. A woman who was not allowed to come out of her cell to chat with me, or anyone else for that matter, because she refused to get dressed. Apparently, I attract the "clothing optional" peeps of the world.

Anyway, when I walked in to her "batcave" she was wearing nothing but a pair of pink underwear - on her head. Imagine my surprise! I remember thinking, "does anyone really question whether she needs a lawyer? How about we just request a psych exam right now." Alas, we chatted for a bit; she was really quite interesting. Did you know that BatWoman canNOT make herself invisible? Here's a sample of our conversation:

M: So, what happened?
B: I left my wallet in the library. (what is it with naked people and the library?!?)
M: And then what?
B: The library closed so I pulled the fire alarm next door so the fireman would come and let me back in to get it.

*I have to interject that, at this moment, a lot of thoughts were swirling thru my head like "she's pretty damn crafty" and "bite your tongue and do not ask her about superpowers!"

M: Well, you are BatWoman; why didn't you just use your superpowers to become invisible? You could have slipped right thru the door then. (Oops. It slipped, I swear.)
B: I'm BatWoman! I don't have invisible powers.

Check please!! Do you know how hard it is to keep a straight face while sitting in an 8x8 cell with a naked woman that is wearing pink underwear on her head?

I Caught Some Flack.......

from my little brother for not posting any pictures of his gaaawwwgeous daughter. So I'm here to do it right now. For everyone's viewing pleasure, here she is. You know, it's a funny thing; when I welcomed her here the first time, I spelled her name Madison and when he emailed me pictures, I was like, uh, oh my, he spelled his own kid's name wrong! And then it occurred to me that it was his kid and he could spell it any way he wants. Dummy me.

And just because he's so damn cute, here's a picture of my adorable nephew holding his new sister.
Coming up, I'm going to go ahead and start a new column here on the blog called "Miss Manners," just to help out any fledgling parents - you know because my parenting skills are so fantastic. Funny enough, when I went to the library sale, I found a book from 1984 and penned by Judith Marin titled "Miss Manners :: Guide to Rearing Perfect Children" *A primer for everyone worried about the future of civilization*

This book is fantastic because it is filled with Q & A's from readers and then the "proper" answer. In 2005, she updated the book and republished it, and I'm curious to see how different the answers are, almost 20 years later. However, here, we're going to give you the original question, with her original answer, and then the answer that, is of course, incredibly snarky; after all, I would have it no other way. So, stay tuned for that - it should prove to be very interesting.

Ms. Britney Spears

OK, I typically stay away from the tabloid gossip when it comes to my blog because, frankly, my life is tabloid worthy all on its own - who nears someone famous to muddy the waters?? However, I read this story today, and I just have to ask the question, am I the only one whose noticed that her kid is not fully buckled into his car seat in this picture?

Now, I could be wrong - Lord knows I have been before. But doesn't the kid that is sitting right behind her appear to only be buckled over his left shoulder? Isn't that little piece of metal laying on his right leg the other buckle for his harness? It's been a while since I've used a car seat like that, but I'm pretty sure that he's only buckled on one side.

The only thing worse than this is the fact that a guy (I can't even call him a man) named "K-Fed" is going to have custody of these kids. Like, really, why bother? Just send them to a foster home now.....anythings got to be better than these two.