Thursday, March 31, 2005

On Being Sick...

It sucks. It sucks a lot! And it really, really sucks when you and your son have the same nasty thing at the same time. To all who read this, invest in Puffs Plus. I'm purchasing truck-loads of the miraculous little tissues with the perfect amount of lotion embedded into every God-sent square. I sure hope there's a special place in Heaven for the genius minds that developed these gems.

I've learned some things this week:

1) I can't figure out how to set up the Technorati Profile thingy. Perscription decongestants/expectrants and technical terms such as "thingy" when combined equals "Honnneeeeyyy, why can't I make this work?" (imagine much wining and nashing of teeth - in between coughing fits and nose blowing).

2) The sound of a five yr old boy not quite making it to the bathroom before he pukes has a very distinctive sound. I asked him after the major clean-up, "Oh Sweetie, were you feeling like you needed to throw up?" And he answered, "No! It just shot right out of me when I was walking down the hall!" It sounded like it too! The pharmacist said rather matter-of-factly, "Oh yeah, it can do that to you." Really? I don't remember sudden projectile vomiting being on the list of side effects.

3) I totally get "Ed, Edd, and Eddy" and the moody chick on "Teen Titans." Cartoon Network rocks.

4) My five yr old has the fine motor skills to place exactly three drops of Similasan into my right ear - I'm pretty damned impressed and relieved!

5) I'm grateful that we got this now and not two weeks from now. I am soooo looking forward to going to L.A. If this had been just a few days later in developing into the pukey mess that its been, the trip would have been off. I feel like complete shit, yet somehow I feel like I dodged a bullet.

Good night, and sweet dreams.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

A Story for the Holiday...

Once upon a time...several scientists gathered to discuss the condition of all of earth's inhabitants. After days of discourse they decided to perform a couple of experiments.

On the first day they constructed a huge cage in a very large laboratory. It was a simple, strong structure with one locked door. In this cage they placed animals of every type, known to be natural enemies, and provided for their basic needs to include an ample supply of water and plenty of Purina's finest animal chows. They had a rough time getting all of them into the cage. Once the creatures were in, and the door was locked, the scientists covered the cage with a huge canvas and headed off to Starbucks for a nice cup of Arabian Mocha Sanani.

After 24 hours the scientists returned to the laboratory, removed the canvas to discover that all of the animals (known to be natural enemies) had learned to get along. It was now time to move on to the second phase of their experiment. They freed all of the animals and went about cleaning the giant cage.

On day two they gathered all of the leaders from all of the world's religions. Once again the scientists saw to it that all basic needs, including each religion's sacred texts and items for their particular rituals were provided within the cage. They had a rough time getting all of them into the cage, but once they were in, and the door was locked, the scientists covered the cage with the huge canvas and headed off to IHOP for a well deserved order of stuffed crepes.

After 24 hours the scientists returned to the laboratory, removed the canvas to disover that...




Nothing was left.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Did I Say That Out Loud?

I dance, even though I look pretty damned dorky doing it. I sing to the radio/CD player in the car at full voice. Occasionally I get a strange look or a knowing smile from fellow highway-mates (is that even a word? not yet; I'm just doing my part to expand the English language). And its not too unusual to find me talking to myself.

Ah, but last night...I got busted having a knock-down-drag-out argument with myself! I didn't know that I was not alone. How could I? I was ranting and raving - arguing two sides to a ridiculous argument - in full voice.

"Honey? Are you having a conversation with yourself?" my husband asks. "No! I'm having an argument!" Okay, honestly I was working through a possible scenario with an idiot co-worker. I'm sure I'll never have that argument with said moron, but it was so fun telling them off!!

Have I lost it completely? My mother used to say that it was okay to talk to yourself, "It's when you start answering yourself that you should be concerned."

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

My Daughter Has a Great Pair of Balls!!

My oldest daughter lives in L.A. West Hollywood to be exact. She's a singer/songwriter and she kicks ass. On the day she becomes famous I'll post it here and you'll say..."oh Wow! She's your daughter?" And then you'll get to hear all about my Mommy-Dearest past.

But I digress. Balls yes, she has a formidable pair, apparently. Her apartment is teeny-tiny and just across the street from a car detail place where all the rappers (the famous and not so) get their cars all pimped out (her words; my only cultural reference for pimp is "Huggy Bear" on the T.V. series "Starsky and Hutch" - oh God I'm getting old). She's blessed with a great view of West Hollywood, but sound carries right up into her apartment. Most street sounds have become white noise for her - sirens, traffic; but not Rap and Hip Hop cranked up to heart pounding decibels.

On the day in question a rapper named Guerilla Black was playing his own music extra loud while the professionals were pimping out his car (I'm sorry, I have to giggle when I use that phrase). After 45 minutes my daughter had had enough.

Now, imagine a 5'1" redheaded, barefoot Oklahoma girl. Now click this link. "Mom, I marched right up to the guy - he was sitting down and I said 'Excuse Me!' and he stood up - I came to his knees - and then he said 'yeah darling' - he was soooo tall!! And then I figured I'd gone this far - what the hell - so I handed him one of my CD's from the live show at The Highland Grounds and said to him 'If I have to listen to your music for the last 45 minutes, the least you can do is listen to mine!' and then I marched right back to my apartment!"

After I quit laughing I checked out his website. He's signed on Virgin Records. I'm not a rap/hip hop listener for the most part. A good deal of the time the rhythms are so similar that it all kinda runs together for me. But I realize that the message is the key, so I try to keep an open mind. I listened to the samples on G. Black's website. Nice, very nice. Romantic, heartfelt and real. The rhythms and melodies still kinda run together, but the timber of his voice and the romance in his lyrics are a nice change of pace.

So, Mr. Charles Tony Williamson (his website states that this is his government name - and mom's reserve the right to use all names when making a point) if that little redhead crosses your path again give her a hug for me and tell her I love her!

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Truth in Advertising...

I just submitted my blog's URL to blogwise.com. In the form I was to choose whether there was sexual content. Good question. What do I put? So far there hasn't been any sexual content. But what if I talk about my son's penis? It could happen. He plays with it on a regular basis. Is that sexual content if he's almost 5 years old and watching cartoons when he does play with his penis? (To my dear sweet boy...Mommy is transfering a good chunk of cash into your savings account for any needed therapy sessions in the future.)

I also use the word Fuck pretty regularly. Is that sexual content? Fuck does mean the act of sex, most of the time....as in "Go fuck yourself." Although, when someone really fucks things up its not a pleasant experience for anyone - so I don't think that would count as sexual material.

I don't want to mislead anyone. This can be PG, or PG13 for some, blog. I haven't written about sex yet, but I don't want to say I don't - ever - and then a moment for my moleskine comes up and I can't share it with the handful of people that read this regularly. What a dilemma!

So, in the spirit of truth in advertising...I selected "Occassionally Contains Sexual Material"...just in case.

Friday, March 18, 2005

The More Things Change....

Has anyone noticed that the leaders of Russia have eliminated the popular vote of their states' governors and significantly reduced journalistic freedoms lately?

Has anyone realized how much ending the "Cold War" has cost us, the American public? We out-spent a Communist government in the arms race, and then bailed them out with a whole butt-load of cash. If we were really trying to spread democracy throughout the world then we really fucked this one up.

....the more they stay the same.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

My Son is So Much Cooler than I was at that Age!

I asked my boy what he wanted to do for his 5th birthday. "I want to go to California." I do have a daughter, two uncles, two aunts, a cousin, a grandmother in La La Land, so its very doable. Okay, we'll go! Anyone need anything from Trader Joe's?

When I was almost 5 years old I didn't ask for anything specific for my birthday. The answer was probably "Cake, chocolate cake!" But that's my answer to any question, really..."How do we settle the Middle East peace process once and for all?" "Cake, lots and lots of chocolate cake!" It would work, you know!

But California? Man! My son is so much cooler than me and he's only almost 5 years old!!! I was thinking Chucky Cheese, or a pinata.

An imagination like that, combined with the guts to ask for what he wants, and a pair of brown eyes and a smile that will knock the wind right out of ya! Its going to be fun living vicariously through him!

What Just Happened?

I watch my counter on this site and usually I count how many times I hit the site to see if anyone is reading (or at least hitting) the site. Pretty sad and pathetic, huh?

Today I pop in to make sure that all is well in on the electronic version of my anologue blog and discover 100 more hits than I expected! What happened?

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

As My Grandfather Would Say...

My muse is on vacation.
In the words of my grandfather....

My inspiration is running .."..as dry as a popcorn fart!"

Yeah, well - what can I say? He was an engineer, so I guess he would know how to calculate that.

Friday, March 04, 2005

The Meaning of Unhappiness

Not knowing what you want...

And killing yourself to get it.

The Meaning of Patience

Being an artist, living in a corporate world.

Thursday, March 03, 2005

Having to be the Mean, Mean Mommy!

I've been lucky the last, almost, five years. My son's biggest infraction on the rules in our house is that he consistantly refuses to pick up his toys (until I tell him that I'm about to vacuum and they'll end up in the trash if he doesn't).

Last night was his first real, and for him, emotionally painful sense of what cause and effect is all about. He took his favorite blue die-cast car and dug it into the laminent finish on the coffee table. I'd been dreading the "you're in big trouble mister!" moment. And this was a biggie. And worst of all, he laughed at me (in between his "sorry, sorry, sorry") as I told him that. I was losing my street credibility with him.

I asked him what he had used to do this damage to our furniture and he produced one of the fastest Hot Wheels in his extensive collection. This is the one that is fast enough to make it all the way around the double loop on his track. He held it out for me to examine, and then I looked at him..."Throw it away." No exclamation, no raised voice.

His eyes registered what I was telling him to do, and reflected his understanding that this was the result of his behavior. I wanted to take it all back and let him keep his car, but I knew that would be more wrong than what he did. He slowly walked to the kitchen, lifted the lid to the trash can and dropped it inside.

Later on in the evening I saw him standing over the trash can. I was afraid he was going to reach into the can and take it back. I hate sneeky behavior. My stomach turned up and over my heart. And then his beautiful little hand waved to the condemned Hot Wheel, a soundless "Good Bye" crossed his lips. He closed the lid to the trash can, took a deep breath, turned and walked away.