In Memoriam

Misha

1994? - March 30, 2009

You were sweetness personified and you will be missed

Apologies in advance for lame post

My life today - 

"Mom, he's breathing on me!"

Overheard from the other room as my son was in his piano lesson:

Piano teacher playing a new piece of music - then loud, fake snoring noises from my son as he pretended to sleep when he was supposed to listen to his new piece of music.  (I'm so proud)

After my daughter's piano lesson -

Mo,ooommmmm, he came into my piano lesson wearing a grim reaper costume!!!!!  Then, he stood next to me and chewed in my ear, while I was in my piano lesson!!!  I pushed him away, but he just came back!!!

Me:  No pushing.

Later at dinner:

Husband: I called your brother today.

Me:  I know, he emailed me.

Husband:  Really, what'd he say?

Me:  Tell your husband to stop calling me.

I fart in your general direction . . .

Disclaimer - If you have never seen a Monty Python movie or if you have no idea what Spamalot is, or if you did not know that Spamalot is a musical version of the movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail (much of it word for word), then you may want to skip reading this post or skip down to an important issue in italics below.

My mom called me yesterday to ask if I would go with her to see Spamalot.  I enjoyed myself some Monty Python back in the day.  So I said - sure, why not.

I was never one to randomly spew quotes from the Monty Python movies as many of my friends did in high school.  Even though I had seen The Holy Grail and The Life of Brian, I could not figure out what they were talking about when a friend said something like, 

"Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of silly persons!"

So, I would say something ridiculous like, "huh, what are you talking about?"  and then they would act like they had a private club that I would never be cool enough to join or something.

So, anyway, my mom and I went to the show.

This brings me to one big, huge, giant major pet peeve -

Would everyone please rise up with me in protest of one thing - the standing ovation.  

I don't get it.  Regardless of how mediocre a show is nowadays - no matter what - there will be a standing ovation.  If you go to the crappiest hometown rinkydink show, there will be one. I get so frustrated by the whole thing that I try to sit them all out.  It's not easy.  My husband and I just look at each other as everyone starts standing up and both do a big eyeroll instead.  

The true big O was supposed to only be for those rare special moments when you just can't contain the amorous elation bursting through your veins due to a performance, it is an event where your mere mortal body cannot contain the vibrations coursing through your flesh.  The big O is then both spontaneous and unmistakable.

I'm protesting the whole 'fake Big O'.  I am afraid I will lose my grip on the difference between the real thing and all these little fako's if my fellow audience members are constantly faking it!  Come on, people!

I'm not saying Spamalot didn't deserve a Big O.  I'm saying I don't know anymore when it's real and when it's fake.

Stepping off my soapbox and back to the show with my mom.  We really enjoyed it - it was absolutely hilarious, and as we were leaving I mentioned something about how so much of the dialogue came directly from the movie.

Mom: "no, honey - it was originally a musical, then a movie."  

Me: "I don't think so, Mom."

Mom: "It was the musical, Camelot.  You do realize that the Lady of the Lake is NOT Guenevere, and I can't believe they called Merlin, Tim?  Why would they do that?"

Me: "Mom, have you ever seen a Monty Python movie?"

Mom:  "No, I don't think so."

Today's Notes

Notes from today:

Note to high school dude who was late for practice while I happened to be sitting in my car in the parking lot - next time you're late for practice, could you please put your protective cup on before you get out of the car, so we don't have to watch you do it in the parking lot?

Note to my son's martial arts instructor - could you pick a time to end the class and stay within, let's say 15 minutes? Do you have any idea what I could have done with that hour? I am seriously deficient in internet surfing time, now.

Note to mother mentioned in the previous post - could we refrain from discussing personal stuff, such as sleeping habits until further notice? On second thought, could we just refrain from conversing at all until further notice?

Note to daughter - could you just listen to me and do exactly what I say, just for the next, say, 3 or 4 years? How about just 1 year? 1 hour? a few minutes?

Note to son - what did you do to the wii fit personal trainer that the video trainer told you to come back later since he wasn't feeling well?

Note to husband - if you go traipsing around Europe on 'business', and I'm here with our 'real life' and I call you, can you check the attitude?

Note to Teddy, cat - when you curl up next to me, purring, then you lay your head on my leg, and I pet you, immediately feeling the stress of the day melt away, until BAM - out of nowhere - I get nailed. Could you stop with the mean unexpected biting thing - and do you do it because you're mad that you don't have a tail? It isn't my fault. You were born that way. We have to learn to love the bodies we were given, Teddy.

Weird

A few nights ago I had a dream about an acquaintance. I really don't know her that well, but our kids are friends.

I don't remember the dream or anything about it. I know it was about her because I have this sick feeling whenever I think about calling her or even emailing her to arrange our kids getting together.

Remember that feeling you got back in school when the weird kid who sat next to you in chemistry started giving you candy and you struck up a friendship? and everything was fine until you found a note in your locker from that weird kid that asked you to be his boyfriend? Then you didn't know if it was really from him or if his friends were playing a trick on him or if your friends were playing a trick on you? but you got a creepy feeling, anyway, and you didn't know what to do. So you just avoided him and when he offered you candy, you said no thanks, and everything was really weird? You know that feeling?

That's the exact feeling I have about this poor innocent mother of my kid's friend when I have to interract with her.

I feel like she made an incredibly uncomfortable and unreciprocated move on me. I know she didn't.


I'm so weird. I can't communicate with her at all - not by phone or text or email or blog comment - please tell me she doesn't read my blog. I even canceled my kid's playdate with her kid!

I have issues.

Kids raising kids

Okay, okay . . . I might as well own up to it. I'm going to admit it. I know it's true. Deep breath, here we go:

I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent.

There, I said it.

When I first had my little babies, they were so cute and easy to snuggle. It all came so naturally to make sure they had food and sleep and . . . oh to be back there for those sweet times.



Fast forward to today. I have no idea how to handle a teenager or even my 9 year old. I feel like I am a teenager.

When I catch her 'chatting' with her friends on Facebook, and she's supposed to be defining terms for biology, what am I supposed to do? I have no idea.

As I sit here, typing in comments on blogs when I should be getting my husband's shirts out of the washer, so they don't get that sour smell, or wiping the kitchen counters, so the back cover of my book doesn't transpose itself there. I'm doing the same thing. Like mother, like daughter. She learned from the best.

By my senior year in college, I had the 'system' completely mastered. No classes on Fridays, Film Appreciation (watching movies) on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Human Sexuality on Mondays and Wednesdays, etc. It was awesome. Everyone I knew was in awe of my schedule. Isn't that what she's doing? Figuring out the system?

My son is 100% addicted to video games. The rest of his life is just superfluous and all about doing whatever he has to do to get back to his one true love - Mario Cart. He has to eat, sleep, do his school work and unload the silverware from the dishwasher - no problem, because somehow it will all lead to . . . (sound the trumpets, strum the harp) - maybe not today, but eventually - - - - - Mario Cart!!!!!!

What do I do? Give in to the indulgences? Get rid of all screened media in our household? (okay, you can forget that idea - we're all addicted) Restrict the times so I end up spending my life as a policeman? Lay guilt trips on them? Devise complicated charts and hoops to jump through in order to earn their respective addiction?

They actually used to be kind to one another!!!!

I know they're great kids. Really, they are. It's just me that's screwy and messed them up.

French Toast and . . . you don't want to know

Sorry, I'm exhausted because my good friends came to visit this weekend, and we had a little too much fun.

Fun can be exhausting and disgusting!

At one point during the weekend, they shared some photos with me. One of the photos depicted a brown blob on a plate. When I asked what it was, they told me they didn't know.

We were also enjoying a nice brunch of french toast at the time.

As I chewed a particularly eggy bite of the french toast, my friend explained to me that the blob had plunked out of a maple syrup bottle onto a plate.

Hmmmm, that's really weird.

My friend continued to describe the blob. Remember I had an extremely eggy bite in my mouth. She said, "it was exactly like a placenta that just came out of the bottle and onto the plate."



Thank you to all the top entrecard droppers in February!

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Stuff and Nonsense
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