Showing posts from June, 2011

Fine! - Vultures.

Okay. I think the red's fading a bit already. Although when the kids started pouring out of the portable after school today Eve's friend Ashley looked at me and said "Whoa! You weren't kidding, Eve!" And she has one eye bandaged, so... Angus did come in after baseball practice last night, look at me and say "COOL!" Yeah, because eleven year old boys were my target demographic with this look. I don't think this this fully captures it, but... Eve just informed me that it's perfect for Canada Day. On that note, everyone have a good one tomorrow.

Went in for a trim, came out with weird Barbie hair

I have weird hair. I talk about my weird hair here sometimes - not nearly as much as I could if I really let myself go, because I realize that not everyone cares about the agony and torment that this hair causes me daily, nay, hourly, and I'm trying to develop a sense of proportion or, failing that, the ability to fake one. I get perms. It's embarrassing to admit that. I get one maybe once a year and then I try to show up at the next gathering acting casual, hoping nobody will notice that the last time they saw me my hair was straight and now it's curly - and, because people generally just aren't that observant (meaning they don't spend an ungodly amount of time staring at me in the mirror), it kind of works. Many people, when I confess to the perming offense, look genuinely surprised. My friend Collette now knows that I get the perms, makes fun of me for the perms but loves my hair permed, and has been denied the right to perm because her hair is too thick (ye

Get it off me!

I'm paralyzed. No, not blog-blocked. Pretty much literally paralyzed. I've been having neck troubles lately, and when I woke up yesterday all the nerves between my shoulder blades and radiating up into my neck had gotten themselves into a giant clusterfuck during the night. Did you ever see that episode of Dr. Who where Donna Noble goes into the fortune teller's tent and then ends up in some parallel universe where she never meets the Doctor but then she meets Martha and finds out she actually has this giant bug on the back of her neck that's messed up the timeline so on the day she met the doctor she turned one way instead of the other and never met him, and she ends up having to kill herself to put the universe back the right way so aliens don't take over the earth? It felt like that - well, not with the aliens or the sexy doctor or a parallel universe or anything, it just felt like there was something ugly and chitinous and hurt-y embedded in my upper spine,

How do you solve an asshat like Maria

I think I first saw Maria Bello in an episode of Nowhere Man (a show I happened upon late at night a few years ago, about a photojournalist whose life gets erased by some mysterious 'organization' and he travels around trying to expose the conspiracy and get his life back - just the thing for someone with neurotic and paranoid tendencies). I thought she was really pretty - I love blonde hair with brown eyes. I was glad in a sort of remote, back-of-the-mind way, when she showed up in more shows, then got a spot on E.R., than made it big in the movies. My asshat of a boss at the audio publisher where I worked for a while once told me a story about Margaret Atwood that reminded me strongly of the saying "if you want to keep your heroes, never meet them". I think I'd have to expand that to "don't read interviews with them either". There was a short piece about Maria Bello in my local paper where she tells her son "I'm a different kind of M

In Defense of Baseball. And Irony, I guess. OR, the practical exact opposite of Wordless Wednesday

I got a tiny bit head-bitey this morning while responding to Nan's comment on yesterday's post . I sent the reply, then felt kind of upset and wondered if Nan and I were still going to be friends - I've never broken up with a virtual friend before, but I was feeling just as icky as I do when arguing with a real-life one. Then I figured we'd probably work it out, and then I wondered why her comment stung so much. I know she doesn't like organized sports. Do I not routinely bitch about organized sports, I ask myself? Self, I admitted, I do. My friend Zarah comes to visit every summer, and we usually get together once with another woman who's been friends with Zarah and my husband since before university. This woman is very athletic, and over one dinner she said she thought organized sports were wonderful and kids who didn't play them really missed out on something. Zarah found this offensive. I found it amusing. My sister and I didn't play organi

It keeps going...and going....and going...

Oops, I took a week off. Not that I was on vacation or anything. Actually, the lead-up to summer vacation for the kids leads to a lot of hard work on my part. First I had to finish Eve's giraffe project, then I had to help Angus make up a disco dance to Stayin' Alive - will somebody tell me why we're still in school? The report card marks are all in, it's a million degrees in the shade, and the teachers are assigning silly make-work stuff that I end up doing most of because, in addition to everything else, the weeks of rain at the beginning of the spring baseball season mean that baseball is STILL GOING, which is okay for Angus since he'd sleep in his hat and glove if I let him, but Eve and I are SO DONE. Partly because we keep losing - she's in rookie, which means it's coach pitch, and our coaches can't. Which is not their fault, they're volunteers and it's a hard job, but there it is. She's usually a really good hitter, and this year

Wordless Wednesday: It's my Birthday, and we TOTALLY didn't plan this


Will no one ease their pain?

I like to think I'm not a grammar snob. I'm fine with the opening of Star Trek The Next Generation when Patrick Stewart says "to boldly go" even though it's a split infinitive (truthfully Patrick Stewart could say whatever the hell he wanted and I'd listen with gladness in my heart). I've been known to dangle a participle or two (I'm badass like that). It does shrivel my soul a little, though, when someone abuses an apostrophe . And I'm on Facebook -- I see a LOT of apostrophe abuse. Sometimes I think about pointing out someone's error -- gently, kindly, self-deprecatingly ("I know, I know, I'm totally anal about apostrophes, and it doesn't really matter, but just in case you always wanted to know..."). But I never do, because I have a feeling that, no matter how nicely you do it, correcting someone's punctuation usage is going to light you up as a big ol' douchebag. And then I got a few emails from this library

Mediocre Pictures of the Day of AWESOME

Mostly it was awesome because, you know why? Because I wasn't on a FUCKING FIELD TRIP, that's why. Not that this wasn't fun: Okay, actually it wasn't that fun. It was fun going with the kindergarten class. OH MY GOD, A COW. OH MY GOD, A HORSE. OH MY GOD, A TRACTOR. Seven and eight year olds are just too freaking jaded. I found it mildly amusing when our guide told them to try not to freak out and laugh and shriek when the animals, ahem, relieved themselves, because it was upsetting and unsettling for the animals. I wanted to pat the woman on the shoulder and console her for having just uttered possibly the most useless statement anyone has spoken, ever. I was soundly vindicated some moments later. OH MY GOD, IT'S PEEING!!!!!!!! The only fun part was when I found my friend Collette who was there with her daughter's class and we sat on a bench watching the kids play on the play structure and talking about how badly we would suck as teachers: Me: "Yeah

I'm a Moron

And the universe is just fucking with me now. I volunteered for Eve's class's field trip this week, because I'd gone on Angus's and I didn't think fast enough to book a colonoscopy or have a crippling accident that would have convinced Eve I couldn't go on hers. And the teacher sent a note saying thanks for offering but we already have enough volunteers. YAY. Full credit for good intentions (which I did not have, my intentions were distinctly grudging and ungracious) and no requirement for arduous follow-through. Then she came out when I went to pick up Eve this afternoon and said she'd had two last-minute cancellations so they could really use my help after all. SONOFABITCH. Should have maimed myself when I had the chance. I get to drive by myself this time. It'll be fine. Nan from Wrath of Mom was talking about movies she hasn't seen and movies she loved but couldn't watch now, which reminded me of A Room With a View , which I adored and


On the way to the dance recital, Eve was in the back seat with my Mom. We were at a stop sign and a man passed us. He was pushing a jogging stroller and wearing nothing but running shoes, socks, and a leaving-nothing-to-the-imagination pair of spandex shorts. And a heart monitor. I heard Eve say to my Mom: "If you're going to take your kid for a walk, it would be nice to have an ounce of dignity". (actually I think she said digginty, but I believe she made her point). Last night Angus was getting ready for baseball talking to my husband, the coach. He said "do I at least get to catch tonight if I can't pitch?" Matt said "no." Angus said "WHAT?" Matt said "look, I have a bunch of positional debts to pay off or the parents are going to start getting ticked off at me. If it makes you feel any better, Jack's getting equally screwed. Well, not totally... I'm letting him catch for an inning just to piss you off."

Wordless Wednesday: Along Came a Spider