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Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Our first ACTUAL touristy adventure.
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Monday, May 18, 2009
And So The Trip Begins...
Yesterday, the kid turned the big 1-0. A major event. And it hasn't just been a birthDAY, but a birthWEEKEND.. There has been breakfast out, nail services, blue streaking of the hair, and now the trip to NYC.
The flight down was good - actually great - but the shuttle rides sucks. I've nearly shit my pants several different times already. My stomach is growling and I have to take a piss. And we're still 20 blocks from the hotel.
On.a positive note, we've already had 1 celebrity sighting.
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Saturday, May 16, 2009
Kids and Condoms
Recently, the weather has been nice enough that the kid and her friend can actually walk home from school together. To walk home from her school, there are two routes: stay on the sidewalk or walk through the woods behind the baseball fields.
So, the only rule has been, "stay on the sidewalk."
Of course, the kid has questioned why.
So I explained that sometimes older kids hang out back there, drinking, smoking pot and having sex.
Naturally, the next question was, "how do you know they're having sex?" I answered by saying that I had seen used condoms back there at one point. The following is an actual transcript of our conversation - it is, of course, one of the funniest things that has happened in the last 6 weeks.
The Kid :: "What's a condom?"
I struggled a tiny bit with this. Not quite knowing how to answer, but also knowing that a) she knows enough about the birds and the bees to know what sex is, b) she's had family living class already, c) by the second day of Kindergarten, where babies come from - right down to the tadpoles, the eggs, and the rivers - thanks to a playground conversation with a boy named Drew (who also divulged that he set his bathroom trash can on fire), and d) if I acted like this was an awkward moment, she'd be less likely to talk about this stuff later on. So, I just went for it.
"A condom is used by the boy when he and a girl are having sex. It's kind of stretchy like the rubber gloves they have in doctor's offices and the boy puts it over his penis. It's meant to protect both the boy and girl from any sexually transmitted diseases and it also is a protection from pregnancy. You should NEVER, EVER have sex without a condom."
After initially wrinkling her nose in disgust at the word "sex," she got a sudden look of recognition on her face. "Oh! I've seen a condom before!! (Holy shit, internal freak out moment for mom) It's what Uncle Matthew wears when he plays baseball!!"
At nearly 10 years old, my daughter thinks that a condom is a cup. Awesome.
*********
Note: once again, I apologize for my absence. Life has definitely gotten in the way. However, I am headed to NYC next week to celebrate my girl's big 1-0. I'm sure there will be PLENTY of posting considering the fact that both my ex-husband AND my neurotic childhood friend will be in town. Neurotic as in, "I love her but she takes Germaphobia to a whole new level." Which I think should be fantastic in a city the size of NYC. This is why she's taking a car service from the airport instead of a shuttle or a taxi. Ha!
So, the only rule has been, "stay on the sidewalk."
Of course, the kid has questioned why.
So I explained that sometimes older kids hang out back there, drinking, smoking pot and having sex.
Naturally, the next question was, "how do you know they're having sex?" I answered by saying that I had seen used condoms back there at one point. The following is an actual transcript of our conversation - it is, of course, one of the funniest things that has happened in the last 6 weeks.
The Kid :: "What's a condom?"
I struggled a tiny bit with this. Not quite knowing how to answer, but also knowing that a) she knows enough about the birds and the bees to know what sex is, b) she's had family living class already, c) by the second day of Kindergarten, where babies come from - right down to the tadpoles, the eggs, and the rivers - thanks to a playground conversation with a boy named Drew (who also divulged that he set his bathroom trash can on fire), and d) if I acted like this was an awkward moment, she'd be less likely to talk about this stuff later on. So, I just went for it.
"A condom is used by the boy when he and a girl are having sex. It's kind of stretchy like the rubber gloves they have in doctor's offices and the boy puts it over his penis. It's meant to protect both the boy and girl from any sexually transmitted diseases and it also is a protection from pregnancy. You should NEVER, EVER have sex without a condom."
After initially wrinkling her nose in disgust at the word "sex," she got a sudden look of recognition on her face. "Oh! I've seen a condom before!! (Holy shit, internal freak out moment for mom) It's what Uncle Matthew wears when he plays baseball!!"
At nearly 10 years old, my daughter thinks that a condom is a cup. Awesome.
*********
Note: once again, I apologize for my absence. Life has definitely gotten in the way. However, I am headed to NYC next week to celebrate my girl's big 1-0. I'm sure there will be PLENTY of posting considering the fact that both my ex-husband AND my neurotic childhood friend will be in town. Neurotic as in, "I love her but she takes Germaphobia to a whole new level." Which I think should be fantastic in a city the size of NYC. This is why she's taking a car service from the airport instead of a shuttle or a taxi. Ha!
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Funny Things on TV
Amazing things happen when you get up really early in the morning with a needy dog. And for whatever reason, these damn commercials seem to creep up on CNN of all places.
A few weeks ago, I was talking about SugarDaddie.com - the site where the wealthy find love. If you happen to be a wealthy woman, a man can find you by searching for a SugarMomma.
Now, maybe I was the only person under the mistaken impression that, if you employ online dating, it's for the purpose of finding someone you're compatible with. But this site is really like, "to hell with love, admit you're in it for the money." In some respects, I admire their bluntness, but has anyone using that site stopped to think that maybe - just maybe - most people on there are exaggerating their net worth just a bit?
Just a thought.
Then today I see a commercial for OnlineBootyCall.com - why promise marriage when you just want a date? Just click, "find booty" and they'll locate you a match. You can also "invite booty" and "rate booty." On the commercial, they inform hopeful men that, "nice guys finish last."
Ha!
I think this is fabulous for a number of reasons. But, primarily because this is like the lazy daters yellow pages. What ever happened to going to a bar and hooking up? Isn't that what the 20-somethings like to do? Or maybe I'm way out of touch. But really, there's also the online classifieds like Craigslist and the personals section in the local paper. Do you really need to pay a fee to find a piece of ass? And, isn't that kind of like one big prostitution ring?
The icing on the stupid commercials cake came on HLN this morning when they devoted an entire segment to whether or not the Chia Obama is offensive. Turns out the American people are split. Some are concerned about the potential offensive nature of the ceramic bust's afro, while others think that it's simply cute.
Really? Like, wtf? First of all, an entire news segment being devoted to this is ridiculous - especially considering there's wildfires going on, a ship captain being help captive, and a baseball player that was just killed by a suspected drunk driver.
But what made this segment the best was that HLN went to the streets to interview people and get their take on it. How many people do you think they spoke with? 10? 50? They chose two interviewees to put on the news: one white, one black. Can you guess who thought it was cute and who thought it was offensive? Why is this news people? Why???
Argh.
Naturally 7 :: Wall of Sound
I'm completely loving this. Why? Because they use no instruments. Totally worth watching.
I would have embedded it, but YouTube wouldn't let me.
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I would have embedded it, but YouTube wouldn't let me.
: (
Monday, April 06, 2009
Sight Seeing
Yesterday was a nice day here in Maine. Sunny, nearly 60, very little breeze.
Come to think of it, it's the kind of weather we should be having right now, but since winter won't seem to leave, it's like a this great big treat when we actually get there.
But in Maine, because our winter season seems to last forever, people get a little crazy when the weather gets warm. And not really in a good way.
There are the high school girls wearing minis and tube tops the first day it hits 40, and this weekend, that effing ice cream truck decided to come out of the garage and start cruising the neighborhood. I wonder why there are so many self-medicated moms in the neighborhood; one can only hear the tinny version of "Pop Goes the Weasel" so many times in a day before you want to run outside and jam a knife in the truck speaker.
Ah...but I got off track.
So the weather was nice yesterday and when I drove into the Old Port I got an eyeful. Male, straight, 6' - 6' 2", 180+ pounds, big beer gut, bald, chest hair and full back hair wearing a wife-beater screen printed with "Who's Your Daddy?" and walking a Chiuaua.
This, of course, is a HUGE issue for me.
If you're a gay man, having a small dog might be fitting - it's a little more feminine. But if you're a straight man, you should NOT be walking a Chiuaua. I don't care if it belongs to your wife/girlfriend/mother/kid. You just shouldn't be walking it. If you're a straight guy, you need a big dog. One that looks mean even if he is really friendly. A dog that looks like it could rip your face off at any moment, even if he's an 80lb lap dog. A dog kinda like my Dodger. And never, under any circumstance should you be wearing a wife beater that says, "Who's Your Daddy?"
Which is why I know that the guy was straight and not gay. Gay men are always the best dressed people in a crowd. A gay man wouldn't be caught dead in that shirt. He might have a small dog but he would never let anyone see him in that shirt - especially if he had that kind of back hair. Gay men wax.
Oh how I wish had I snapped a picture.
Come to think of it, it's the kind of weather we should be having right now, but since winter won't seem to leave, it's like a this great big treat when we actually get there.
But in Maine, because our winter season seems to last forever, people get a little crazy when the weather gets warm. And not really in a good way.
There are the high school girls wearing minis and tube tops the first day it hits 40, and this weekend, that effing ice cream truck decided to come out of the garage and start cruising the neighborhood. I wonder why there are so many self-medicated moms in the neighborhood; one can only hear the tinny version of "Pop Goes the Weasel" so many times in a day before you want to run outside and jam a knife in the truck speaker.
Ah...but I got off track.
So the weather was nice yesterday and when I drove into the Old Port I got an eyeful. Male, straight, 6' - 6' 2", 180+ pounds, big beer gut, bald, chest hair and full back hair wearing a wife-beater screen printed with "Who's Your Daddy?" and walking a Chiuaua.
This, of course, is a HUGE issue for me.
If you're a gay man, having a small dog might be fitting - it's a little more feminine. But if you're a straight man, you should NOT be walking a Chiuaua. I don't care if it belongs to your wife/girlfriend/mother/kid. You just shouldn't be walking it. If you're a straight guy, you need a big dog. One that looks mean even if he is really friendly. A dog that looks like it could rip your face off at any moment, even if he's an 80lb lap dog. A dog kinda like my Dodger. And never, under any circumstance should you be wearing a wife beater that says, "Who's Your Daddy?"
Which is why I know that the guy was straight and not gay. Gay men are always the best dressed people in a crowd. A gay man wouldn't be caught dead in that shirt. He might have a small dog but he would never let anyone see him in that shirt - especially if he had that kind of back hair. Gay men wax.
Oh how I wish had I snapped a picture.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
The Dilemma
This morning when I got up and tinkled, I realized, too late, that we were out of toilet paper.
I looked in the bathroom cabinet. Nil.
I looked for a box of tissues. Nada.
Dammit. Now what? Ugh. Drip Dry.
So I come downstairs to look in what we lovingly refer to as "the bomb shelter." The big closet in the basement that stores the bottled water, the canned goods, the Coleman camping stove, and tons of candles. It is also where we usually store our year's supply of toilet paper and paper towels.
Do you think that I found any there? Hell no.
How does someone carry the last package of toilet paper upstairs and NOT mention that. Like, "hey, by the way, the next time you run to BJ's, can you pick up some TP? We're about to run out." This shit happens all the time in this house and it drives me nuts.
It's why I have a "running low list" on the fridge. As a big fat reminder that, when you notice we're almost out of butter or you drink the last of the milk, you write it on the list. Dog food, on the list. Cat litter, on the list. Toilet paper? NOT ON THE LIST!! The whole purpose of the list is so that, the next time someone goes to the store and says, "do we need anything while I'm out?" Someone else can read the list and say, "oh yeah, can you pick up butter, milk, and TOILET PAPER???"
What's worse is that the kid had a friend spend the night last night and so this morning, after my bathroom debacle, I was digging through every cabinet I could find to locate even just a few napkins that I could cut up into little squares of toilet paper. I hate to think what will happen when she goes home.
"Geez mom, Syd's family just has cut up napkins for toilet paper. It's so weird. Do you think they can't afford toilet paper?" Christ.
Anyway, moving on.....I also have a very special note to write here at the end of this blog. A note for someone that is currently overseas and who, although we're no longer friends, seems to read this blog regularly. Please stay safe.
Oh, and I also want you to know that, although I said that I would never talk to any of your friends again, that was before Facebook and some of your friends have "friended" me. I accepted that invitation - I hope that's alright. I wasn't really sure how to say no because I felt like it was pretty complicated. The only exception is Wendy - she hates me. Ok, that's it. I'll resume not speaking to you again.
I looked in the bathroom cabinet. Nil.
I looked for a box of tissues. Nada.
Dammit. Now what? Ugh. Drip Dry.
So I come downstairs to look in what we lovingly refer to as "the bomb shelter." The big closet in the basement that stores the bottled water, the canned goods, the Coleman camping stove, and tons of candles. It is also where we usually store our year's supply of toilet paper and paper towels.
Do you think that I found any there? Hell no.
How does someone carry the last package of toilet paper upstairs and NOT mention that. Like, "hey, by the way, the next time you run to BJ's, can you pick up some TP? We're about to run out." This shit happens all the time in this house and it drives me nuts.
It's why I have a "running low list" on the fridge. As a big fat reminder that, when you notice we're almost out of butter or you drink the last of the milk, you write it on the list. Dog food, on the list. Cat litter, on the list. Toilet paper? NOT ON THE LIST!! The whole purpose of the list is so that, the next time someone goes to the store and says, "do we need anything while I'm out?" Someone else can read the list and say, "oh yeah, can you pick up butter, milk, and TOILET PAPER???"
What's worse is that the kid had a friend spend the night last night and so this morning, after my bathroom debacle, I was digging through every cabinet I could find to locate even just a few napkins that I could cut up into little squares of toilet paper. I hate to think what will happen when she goes home.
"Geez mom, Syd's family just has cut up napkins for toilet paper. It's so weird. Do you think they can't afford toilet paper?" Christ.
Anyway, moving on.....I also have a very special note to write here at the end of this blog. A note for someone that is currently overseas and who, although we're no longer friends, seems to read this blog regularly. Please stay safe.
Oh, and I also want you to know that, although I said that I would never talk to any of your friends again, that was before Facebook and some of your friends have "friended" me. I accepted that invitation - I hope that's alright. I wasn't really sure how to say no because I felt like it was pretty complicated. The only exception is Wendy - she hates me. Ok, that's it. I'll resume not speaking to you again.
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