dumb like me

A son.

2004-10-17T12:32:00.000-07:00

I'm going to have a son. A son. I'm terrified and thrilled. Will I know what to do with a son? I'm not too sporty, I know nothing about matchbox cars, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or kung fu. I'm a girl, I had dolls.
Will he roll his eyes when, one Christmas morning, I buy him the Nash Dogcheese stakeboard instead of the cool one? Yes, he will.
I'm fated to be the uncool mother of a son. I'll forego the mullet for now, as i'm feeling pretty uncool already.

Contemplating a Mullet

2004-10-07T17:16:00.000-07:00

If I cut my hair into a mullet would I still maintain my current level of coolness? Am I inherently cool just because of who I am or does the hair really matter? It matters because it's an expression of...myself? As a hairdo?
Ohhh, like the word 'hairdo'...seems retro.

Blogging for Sanity

2004-09-30T17:49:00.000-07:00

Earlier I blogged about the daughter I gave birth to at 17. There are details surrounding her conception that haunt me in the middle of the night. Some nights I can't sleep, running over and over again the brief moments of cognizance. Here's what I remember:
Going to a party at a college guys run-down house, invited via a friend of a friend of a friend. I knew none of my fellow partiers but that wasn't an issue, my best friend was with me as well as a guy who was "watching out for us". He left at some point-never saw him again.
I was drinking Bud Dry ('cuz we was cool like that) and doing shots of Southern Comfort (I would never again drink either). I was drunk. Not silly giggly outgoing drunk..I was sitting on the floor, vomiting occasionally drunk. Someone picked me up and walked me outside..it was cold, there was snow on the ground. I remember the sound of feet crunching through it. I remember falling down in the snow. I remember someone pulling off my jeans (now it was REALLY cold). I tried to open my eyes and speak but I couldn't do either. I don't remember the sex (my first), just the sound of a rustling coat and a man's voice telling me to "talk dirty". I was alone for awhile, I didn't hear anything. I became semi-conscious enough to realize I was being urinated on, and still I couldn't move. I hear voices and laughter.
I'm alone again. Feel someone picking me up and carry me inside, into a chair where I wake up the next morning. I took somewhere around 10 showers the next day, I stopped counting. Somedays still I feel a compulsion to take a hot shower.
My husband doesn't know these details, no one does. I've never spoken or written of it. He knows I take very hot showers in the middle of the night for no reason. He knows that sometimes I shut down and won't look at him. It's not that I don't want to look at him, I don't want him to look at me. The irrational part of me says he'll see it, see the whole night. He doesn't understand the shame and I'm too ashamed to ever tell him.
Maybe writing this will help me to forget, to find peace, to forgive myself.
Don't you dare feel sorry for me, I don't feel sorry for myself. I know I put myself in a very dangerous position, even if I didn't fully appreciate that at the time. And there is a wonderful little girl who is loved and will love and I have to believe that her life was meant to be.

Chubby not Lazy

2004-09-25T11:17:00.000-07:00

Figured out why I'm chubby today. There are 2 things that bring me ultimate comfort, at least when my husband is out of town and snuggling isn't an option. Eating and sleeping. Imagine this...I'm on the couch and need some comfort. I could go take a nap, but that would be an hour at least. OR, I could go have a nice big healthy scoop of Chunky Monkey and I'll be good in 10 minutes.
Eating is just more efficient. I can use the remaining 50 minutes for housework, hobbies, calling a friend on the phone, shopping for more Chunky Monkey, whatever.
Also, while sleeping I can't do anything else. As opposed to eating, which you can do while driving, watching TV, selected housework duties, nurse a baby, talk on the phone (chew quietly), blog, maybe work on a hobby or two between bites.
What's amazing is that people often assume chubby folks are lazy, but I contend just the opposite is true. We're chubby because we have stuff to do.

See? See? I have to be chubby....I'm busy.

Childlike & Pregnant

2004-09-23T19:10:00.000-07:00

My pregnant hormones are going crazy. Maybe it's God preparing my husband for having more children...I become more and more childlike until, wham!, there's another baby. Then I have to grow up again.
Maybe this is why some women just keep having them...the childlike state of pregnancy.
Demand Any food you want, your husband will dash off to the store and return with your desired goods.
Cry at sappy television, people just smile sweetly at you.
Get all round and spongey and strangers will slam on the brakes to let you jaywalk.

**Don't assume they'll slam on the brakes for you, though...look both ways.

OK, I gotta go now because I have ice cream to eat.

Weather Channel Turbos Part 2

2004-09-13T19:40:00.000-07:00

I noticed this evening that the people reporting for the Weather Channel are usually referred to as meteorologists. HOWEVER, there's one particular turbo (and probably others) that are referred to as a 'Stormtracker'
Yeah, and the teenage girls at McDonalds are "customer service representatives" and the people at Subway are "sandwich artists"

C'mon people...it's just a title. Accept the fact that you aren't smart enough to make it through weather school, but you were good-looking enough to be put in front of the camera. Why not just refer to them as "The Best Looking People Willing To Work For The Weather Channel"?
has a nice ring, eh?

Ivan is coming!!

2004-09-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain,
But it’s all right now, in fact, it’s a gas!
But it’s all right.
I’m jumpin’ jack flash,It’s a gas! gas! gas!
-the Stones, of course

The above lyric is devoted to my hippie father who, when I called him and confided that I was worried about a hurricane, broke into song. Yes, he sang the ENTIRE song for me. Thanks Dad. Success as a father is defined by you as having a Rolling Stones song to fit each situation...and you have mostly succeeded in my life.
Hurricane Ivan is coming to Mobile. I know this because....well, I just know. However, I keep watching the Weather Channel (waaaay too much weather channel) and they keep saying Florida! NO NO NO...you stupid Weather Channel turbos!
It's coming here. I'm telling you..so if you, by some weird chance, happen to live here...go get some stuff.

Here's what I'd recommend:

1. Underwear. please please wear clean underwear the entire time. Even if you can't shower. Clean underwear keeps you feeling human.

2. Twinkies...they'll last forever. If you're on low-carb, you can only eat the filling.

3. A Canoe, for getting around after.

4. Life vests, I keep hearing about these drownings during hurricanes. Dog paddle, people, dog paddle.

5. Makeup. Everyone else will look like hags so take this opportunity to be the pretty one.

6. Board games. Think about it...no tv, no computer, no gameboy to keep your kids quiet. Board games are the way, my friend.

7. Sex toys. Hey, it's dark and the only things that work are battery operated.

8. Baby wipes...for cleaning up after the sex. No stinky sex toys!! ew.

I'm going shopping now. you go too.

Weather Channel Turbos

2004-09-08T17:59:00.000-07:00

Recent weather channel coverage of hurricane Frances. Although I did enjoy watching the anchor-people get blown around for 24 hours, the coverage of the aftermath looked like it had been shot by 10 year olds.
*A shot of an anchorperson standing in front of foliage* talking in amazed tones about the destruction.
Listen up Turbos...we can only see you and the foliage! You could be standing in front of some shrubbery, or a tree that's fallen on a house, a McDonalds, a family of 5 ...don't know. Remedial Camera School 101: Try the shot from across the street .
I don't need to be close enough to the anchorperson so I can guess her personal shade of MAC lipstick. This story is about the background, not the anchor. Repeat...NOT....THE....ANCHOR.

Get that? Write it down.

Blogging is Smurfy

2004-09-07T18:30:00.000-07:00

"Smurfy" is a wonderful word and I'm going to try to work it into my daily vocabulary.
I'm also re-introducing the word "skanky" from the early 90's, as it has so many uses....i.e. "the neighbor's dog is skanky".

Look for them.

Music that Makes Me Want to Throw Up

2004-09-06T19:30:00.000-07:00

I'm not naturally a musical person. It's a fun distraction while driving but rarely do I hear anything that I would pay for. I can feel all you music snobs looking down on me--so Back Off! Steeplejack is the exception, and I would pay whatever it cost because it is Great. Great.
Thank you Steeplejack for having an original sound. You remind me of no other bands and no other bands have copied you.

Many of the people in my life that I truly admire are music lovers and I've learned to nod my head and agree, "that's cool". But I'm kind of lying. Kind of. Because when it comes to music, I do not know what cool is. Normally, "cool" is whatever I like: but I own a Yanni CD. So, I can't trust my own judgment.

But the following are the WORST OF THE WORST: the songs that, if I was left on a deserted island and forced to listen to, I would find a coconut, sharpen it to a fine point and slit my own throat.

In no particular order they are:

Rock Me Amadeus - Falco
Faith - George Michael
Achy Breaky Heart (shudder) -can't bring myself to type the name, but you know.
Wicked Game - Chris Issac
Yellow - Coldplay

I don't know if they are cool or not cool and I don't give a crap. It's music that makes me want to throw up.

Mother in Law vent

2004-09-05T18:31:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I hate my mother in law. She's a wonderful person, sweet, religious, kind, and she is certain I am a horrible parent. For example: She called me asking if she could watch my toddler for a few hours. I said No, she's got the trots and I would feel better if I kept her here since she's not feeling well.
MIL response: "You know, I feed her Lactaid milk when she visits me. You just feed her regular whole milk. Maybe that's too hard on her stomach. What you need to do is pick some of that Lactaid milk up at the store. It's in red and white paper half gallon. Let me keep her while you go to the store."
I roll my eyes and these crazy words come out of my mouth: "hmmmmmmm---maybe you're right, except that she's been drinking this milk for months and it's never been a problem" And what do I do? Yes, I go to the store and pick up some Lactaid milk. Why? Because I have no spine.
A few days later I'm on the phone with my mom and I mention that said toddler had the trots this week. My mother's response? "I'm so sorry sweetie. I know that it must have been a hard week for you. Is she feeling better?"
I LOVE YOU MOM!
You trust me. You know I'm a good mother and I can take care of this beautiful child without your constant input. Thank you for not taking every opportunity to make me feel wrong and stupid and guilty.

name game

2004-09-04T00:41:00.000-07:00

I called my grandparents for the second time this week (probably more often than I called the whole of last year). They reside in a little cottage house in DeLand Florida, about 30 min from Daytona Beach and they are going to stay and wait out hurricane Frances.
I'm wondering about the names of the hurricaines, they seem so benign. Not Abigor or Attilla or Adolf...but Polly and Lucy and Frances. Nice, girl-next-door kind of names.
Why not name other natural disasters? I'm sure the folks in Oklahoma would feel better about the tornado that just ripped apart their home if it was named Tornado Polly. Or Earthquake Annabell. Or Monsoon Jane.
I hereby formally suggest to the whole entire world that we begin to name every tornado, wild fire, earthquake, and monsoon.
And why stop with natural disasters? Let's just include the regular disasters as well. Terrorist Attack Charlie. Car Bomb Sally. "Sally left 9 people dead and dozens more injured"
And WARS! Yes, let's give them real names...like Sue and Janet. Actually,to be more accurate we'd better give them men's names, I hereby nominate the next war to be named Clyde. The draftees could just say "Clyde got me" or "I'm going to Clyde"

Hmm..not sure how I got here.

Anyway, my grandparents will be fine. They have food and water and each other. After 60 years that's probably what matters most. (awwww)

superfreak

2004-09-03T18:23:00.000-07:00

Great sex is one of my favorite things. Good sex is common and, to be honest, I'd rather use the time for sleeping. But last night was the crazy, lustful, all-consuming sex that my pre-marital nights were made of. I thought it would always be like that and it's not. But last night was one of those night that affirmed that there is still some amount of passion in our lives--mixed in with dirty diapers, breasts that have suffered nerve damage at the teeth of a hungry infant, a pregnant belly, a pregnant butt, my unshaven legs (need razors), and bad breath (his).
We have passion and lust and great sex and I'm absolutely thrilled....unless it wants it again tonight. *sigh*

A girl needs her rest.

Nothing but TMI

2004-09-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

I have a boring life---this is what's going on:
1. I have the trots. (TMI)
2. My toddler also has the trots.
3. My right nostril is running
4. My toddler's right nostril is running.
5. My husband is on the phone with his mother.
6. I ate a whole box of Chicken in A Biscuit crackers today. And that's all.
7. I researched John Kerry today and decided not to vote for him.

pretty lame.

If only I'd grown up to become the mime I aspired to be as a child, then I'd be sooooooo cool.

he'll be drinking decaf

2004-08-30T16:39:00.000-07:00

I accidently stumbled across my husband's search for porn on the internet last night. Not just regular old porn, ooooh no. BIKER CHICK PORN. Yes, that's right. Don't try to say it out loud or you will fall down laughing hysterically.
I felt sick to my stomach. I took a shower. He came in, "Is everything OK"
"Yeah"
He left for cigarettes.
(the curtains falls. time passes)
we talked when he got home. I said all the usual whiny wife crap that makes me feel like a whiny wife. He couldn't explain the compulsion. I couldn't explain my disgust.
Maybe it's the "biker chick" part. A pregnant housewife is about as far from a leather-bustier-clad-she-bitch swinging a bullwhip as I can fathom. Does he have S&M fantasies? I feel sick to my stomach.
The 2nd time I found out that he was looking at porn he promised not to ever do it again.
This time was the 3rd. Guess what he promised me?
This was the first time he's ever said something to me that I didn't believe. I don't trust him and I'm pissed off and I'm sad because I lost something very precious.
I'm going to fix him decaf coffee in the morning this entire week.

the dog still has her head

2004-08-24T10:56:00.000-07:00

Had a dream last night that my husband tried to cut the head off the dog. After he'd been trying, unsuccessfully, I walked in the room (our babies room) and told him to "forget it..we'll just keep her"

the pursuit of happiness

2004-08-22T19:56:00.000-07:00

"sin. sin should make you angry. you should be filled with hate when you see people sinning. when you see gays kissing on television, you should be filled with disgust and hate. " this from a sermon at my local baptist (baptist? really? ) church. On the way home I said to my husband.."sin doesn't make me angry".
"me either"
"should it?"
"i guess." he shrugged.
This got me thinking. I've been mulling this over for awhile and haven't been back to church since I heard the "hatemonger sermon" as it came to be known in my house.
The founding fathers of our nation had the foresight to grant us all the "pursuit of happiness". Not the pursuit of a "perfect life" or a "sinless life" but a life that makes each person happy. So, be gay, get drunk, have abortions, gamble, smoke pot, fornicate with anyone and everyone you want to. My life wouldn't make you happy, but that's the amazing thing about freedom. You don't have to life my life and I don't have to live yours.
This attitude probably makes me a verrrry bad baptist, but I hope it makes me a better human being.

Tylenol #3- a poem

2004-08-21T18:25:00.000-07:00

I love tylenol #3
It's good for me
And not at all harmful
to my growing baby

So let's get high together
on prescription drugs
we'll lay around not understanding
and giving people hugs.

This is my poem
Inspired by Tylenol #3
Thank you for reading
now I have to pee

just some whining

2004-08-14T19:46:00.000-07:00

went to the dentist last thursday with pain in my jaw. he said "you need a root canal, your tooth has abcessed". guess he thought i wouldn't mind the pain until next tuesday....i'm looking forward to going back.
Pregnant. Can't take vicadin, my usual pre-root canal drug of choice. this will be my 3rd. they are all next door neighbors in my little mouth..it's like a mini decay bomb that keeps going off. i'm feeling the fallout today.

negative numbers

2004-08-12T18:54:00.000-07:00

the text message from my husband read "Hey don't buy anything we're broke"
It all started in the Memphis airport, were I spent 10 hours entertaining a toddler. She, at some point, chunked my checkbook out of my purse. We finally got a new checkbook register from the bank the other day...so I've just been spending haphazardly lately (the past 3 months) kind of keeping a total in my head (so I thought). I'm not good with negative numbers. That's my excuse.
For dinner my darling husband is fixing a random assortment of pizza, broccoli & cheese noodle packet, and croutons from the box. And he announced he's taking a year-old can of soup for lunch tomorrow. He's like a squirrel...looking around for stored food.

for a few days

2004-08-11T15:18:00.000-07:00

11 years ago today I gave up my daughter for adoption. I feel weird writing "my daughter" because she's not. For a few days she was. I did the right thing...she's happy.
I fought the urge today to bake her a cake. I used to do that. Bake her a cake, put a candle on it, sing, make a wish for her. And weep.

Please be happy and safe and loved and well. I can't look out for you and make sure that you aren't sick or cold or hungry....
I hope you know that I love you and think of you every day.

My Son Will Wear Butterflies.

2004-08-10T07:27:00.000-07:00

I was browsing the infants' clothing section of my local Target yesterday. I noticed a disturbing trend among infant boys' clothes. I found adorable onesies and outfits, but they all had strange designs. The all seemed to be "job" related. I felt like the boys clothing industry was putting pressure on my child to either excel at sports or be a tough guy construction worker. Of course they were all blue. blue with basketballs, blue with soccer balls, blue with footballs, blue with dump trucks, blue with cranes, blue with hard hats. And you can't tell me that this is because little boys like these things....at 6 weeks old.
I want shirts with little doggies and kittens...YES, KITTENS and I want little guitars and paint brushes and crayons. I want a little tiny periodic table of the elements! Beekers, giraffes, baby chicks, butterflies.
They must exist and I will find them.

If, someday, I have a son. If not...I'll buy them for yours.

the good wife

2004-08-04T18:48:00.000-07:00

yesterday i ran some boring errands and i took my husband a snack at work...like a good wife. i've been pretending to be a good wife for years and I'm getting pretty good at it. one day he'll look at me and see through the facade i've created and he'll know that deep down i'm petty and selfish and stupid.
until then i'll listen to his compliments and think to myself "if you only knew"
i'm not afraid of that day....yes i am.

the blind blogger

2004-08-03T08:24:00.000-07:00

my words look stupid to me, so i'm typing this with my eyes closed. in the darkness of my mind everything looks better....softer . i feel safe here, and i don't think so much. i think too much about how YOU will feel about me or this or whatever. why do i care....how can your disdain hurt me...me annonymous me...
i wonder why you are reading this...do you want to be amused...do i have to be funny?
somedays I might be funny...but you'll be laughing at me and that's ok.