Halloween Hell

I know it's early, but Halloween's already stressing me out.

When I was about to have my first child, my sister warned me that the two occasions I would hate the most would be birthdays and Halloween. Well, Miss "I Dare You To Try and Beat Me at Trivial Pursuit" was right.

But I hit the jackpot-I have a kid who was born right around Halloween! God must REALLY have it in for me.

I don't want to get into the birthday thing-all of her friends birthdays are clumped around the same time, and the parties all have "themes." My youngest actually asked me the other day "What do you think the theme for my birthday party should be this year?"

"Gee honey, let me consult with Andrew Lloyd Webber. I was considering a cake and icecream and presents sort of affair, but I'll get back to you."

And Halloween? I ALWAYS sucked at it. I don't like to dress up in costumes.
I have no patience helping my kids pick out their costumes. I never know how much candy to buy. And I HATE walking around my neighborhood for two hours in 40 degree weather with weary kids who are pissed that their carefully selected costumes are hidden underneath coats, hats, and mittens. All this for mini Snickers Bars?

Some people are really good at Halloween though. They blast spooky music from their houses and dress up as Demons or Witches and then give kids candy. Giving kids treats while you're scaring the shit out of them at the same time....sounds like the subject of a Dateline report to me.

But I admire people who know how to do Halloween costumes. Some of my favorites:

1. A certain couple of guys I know who were invited to a Halloween Party years ago and dressed up as the host of the party. Wicked funny.

2. Moberg, in the 80's, who found a "half melted face mask" (Moberg was always good with masks) and a burned lab coat with an ID pin saying "Chernobyl." Clever.

3. My sister Julie who, in her 20's, wore a "Charlie Brown" costume meant for an 8 year old. Stupid. And funny.

4. "Dress-Up Day" for the Senior Class at the school where I teach. A lot of creative stuff, but you can ALWAYS count on the girls who can, for one day of the year, wear something that violates the dress code (French Maids, Flappers...) and boys who dress in Drag.

I need to get with the program...costume suggestions anyone?

WHAT'S your name??????

My kid has been in school forever with a dorky boy named Salem, and a few years ago she overheard the following conversation between Salem and one of his teachers:

TEACHER: Salem, where did you get your name from anyway?

SALEM: My parents named me after the city I was born in.

TEACHER: Well, good thing you weren't born in Marblehead.

I SO wish I had said that.

Anyway, I've dealt with so many names during my illustrious career that I've come to lump them into "categories." Here's a few examples:

1. NAMES GIVEN BY MOTHERS WHO READ TOO MANY ROMANCE NOVELS:
Blaise, Dirk, Lance, Astor...Note To New Mothers: If you don't want to see you son's names included in the same sentence with "throbbing loins," then quit reading the Harlequins while pregnant. In fact, you should stop reading them altogether-the Surgeon General says so.

2. THE SAME NAME WITH MULTIPLE SPELLINGS:
Ashley, Ashlee, Ashliegh, Ashlyie, Ashlii (hearts over both I's)....Katelin, Katelynn, Katielynn... Yeah..THAT makes your name an original! And by ALL means girls, feel free to get pissed when someone spells it wrong. New Rule: One name-one spelling.

3. BACKWARDS/FORWARD NAMES:
These are names you could swap, first and last, and they'd still sound normal. Examples: Bryant Andrew, Dale Howard, Deval Patrick (Next Governor of Massachusetts)...

4. ANYONE NAMED RICHARD WHO CALL THEMSELVES DICK:
It's just not right. We had a guy who was running for a local office recently, and there were signs everywhere saying "VOTE FOR DICK SWEAT." By the way Dick, did you win???? Maybe calling yourself "RICHARD" might have been a little more savvy politically? (Can I get sued for this?)
Hey, I have a brother named Richard...I sense potential fun here.

5. NAMES THAT SHOULD BE REMOVED FROM THE AVAILABLE POOL:
Agnes, Fred, Winifred, Hazel...I came within inches of being named after my "Aunt Winnie," but luckily, my parents were somewhat sane. But even if I DID end up being Winnie, this Rose By Any Other Name would have been sitting on the courthouse steps at 5 A.M. on her 18th birthday to legally change my name to "Anything But Winnie." "Your Honor, I'd like my name to be changed to Ashley. Spell it however the hell you want."

6. FIRST AND LAST NAMES WHICH DO NOT BELONG TOGETHER ACCORDING TO THE LAWS OF NATURE:
Tiffany Rodrigus, Maryanne Rosemblum, Leroy Jamal Goldsmith...they're like bad marriages-just not meant to be.

7. NAMES THAT ANY CELEBRITY GIVE TO THIER CHILDREN:
"Apple?????" "Mom, I know you're rich and famous, but why couldn't you have just named me Jane? And why Apple? What about 'Orange' or 'Banana,' since you were intent on humiliating me for life with that birth certificate?"

Did I offend anyone? Tough. You don't know where I live. Or my name. But you can be pretty sure that it's NOT Winnie.

Hitler's Soft Side

Somewhere in London an auction house is taking bids on paintings created by the Great Artist Adolph Hitler (I'm suprised Mr. Nooprah wasn't on the first plane to Heathrow when he heard about this event!)

Before Hitler decided to accept a job as the Insane Dictator responsible for the deaths of over 30 million people (I think the ad ran in some small Bavarian newspaper: WANTED: Insane Dictator willing to oversee the destruction of all Jews and able to lead a large country of superior human specimens to world domination. Must have previous experience as an unbalanced racist. Company car, tanks, bombs, submarines and aircraft provided. Resume and references required), he wanted to be an artist.

Hitler's "artwork" suggests a heartfelt appreciation for the beautiful landscape he grew up around. I'm no art critic-thank god because they're all a little weird (my response to art is pretty much "I like it," or "I don't get it and don't try to have a disussion with me about it"), but I'm pretty sure that the folks at the Academy of Arts in Vienna back then would have rolled out the red carpet for Hitler the Artist if they had any clue what his alternative occupation would be. But they sent him a rejection letter instead.


So we didn't get Hitler the Artist, quietly painting his landscapes by day (he might have become a serial killer by night just to get by,but even Ted Bundy couldn't kill 30 MILLION people on a part time basis-second jobs are just like that-could you deliver 30 MILLION pizzas at night after a long day of work? )-we got Hitler the Homicidal Maniac Dictator with a stupid looking mustache Full Time. WWII, The Big One, could have been avoided by a single sheet of paper from the Academy in Vienna saying "Dear Mr. Hitler, we are pleased to accept you into our distinguished Art Program... (although some condoms in Mr. and Mrs. Hitler's house might have helped too).

Thanks Vienna!

Sparkle's Wisdom

Since Sparkle said in the blog across the hall that "sex sells," I decided to devote an ENTIRE piece to my very own personal sex life.

Warning: Some content may be graphic and not intended for children.

Hang onto your hats folks-you're about to enter the racy and sometimes "naughty" world of a single gal! It's ALL action, ALL the time here in Bemish Town. So here goes!

Ummmmm. Ok-hold on. Tap tap tap tap. Still thinking! Now let's see...don't go away-just give me a minute....La La La La... Yawn...has anyone seen my nail file?

Jeeze-this is REALLY embarrasing! I've obviously developed a very severe case of Writer's Bloc. Or Amnesia. Maybe BOTH. Honest!!! Really!!!! Oh My God!!!!

I'll go see my doctor first thing tomorrow. And I'll get a note from him.

Imagine getting Writer's Bloc AND Amnesia at the same time! Just when I was about to write my juiciest piece!

Life just isn't fair.

So WHY exactly am I still alive?

As you know by now, I'm a very deep thinker. And as the ancient Greek Philosopher what's-his-name said "A life without an exam is not worth living."

Or something like that. It's Greek for Christ's sake-and people in Greece with last names like Thermasouapakidermiolidiopolous only PRETEND they understand what other Greek people are saying.

Anyway, as I reflect (Deeply) on the events of my past, I can't help but wonder... "Why the hell am I still alive?" So far I've survived:

1. Drinking Drano (YUM!)
2. Escaping from my house while still in diapers and wandering into rush hour traffic
3. Running directly through a glass door
4. Almost getting hit on the back of the head by a chairlift in Colorado and falling approximately 10,000 feet to my death (I was saved by a fat guy...I'm pretty sure he had a heart attack after that incident)
5. Getting scorched by boiling water
6. My mother's cooking
7. My father's driving

And that just covers ages 0-7 or so. Adolesence and young adulthood were also jam packed with "You REALLY should be dead right now" experiences, but they're too unsavory to include here.

While I think my brother Richard may exceed me in the "near death experiences" count (some of which involved ME though), I really shouldn't be here sucking up oxygen.

So my life obviously has meaning and purpose! I'm calling Oprah right now!
SHE'LL be able to tell me why I'm still on the planet. And maybe she'll give me a new car.

I Know Everything Now

I just spent four hours in "Saturday Detention." (I skipped class.) It wasn't NEARLY as fun as they made it look on The Breakfast Club.

Anyway, as I was minding the criminals, I spent the entire time on the internet. I'm pretty sure I read everything (including entire transcripts of that Dateline show where where they find sexual predators on the internet and get them to show up at some house where they think they're gonna have sex with 14 year old girls...MAN those guys are creepy. AND stupid. The show's been doing this segment for, say, two years now, and they announce
beforehand pretty much where they're going to be next. But these losers keep turning up...I needed a shower after reading that stuff).

But I read just about everything there was to read in cyberspace and I now officially know everything.

Go ahead...ask me a question.

Part II: A Proud Moment

A teenager from the school where I teach was on Dr. Phil's show today. She was on the show last year and today was the follow-up. I couldn't bear to watch.

Short version of the story: "Jane," (Honest-To-God NOT her real name-although I don't know why I DON'T use her real name, since SHE'S the one who was on national television) was 16 years old when she decided to accept her boyfriend's mother's "invitation" to accompany their family to Florida.

Here's where it gets complicated. The boyfriend belongs to a very established and well known extended family of "Gypsies" that live around here. Dr. Phil had a hard time believing such folks existed, but trust me. They do. I don't recall a year in my very lengthy Man Am I Old career where I haven't had at least ONE of these folks in my classroom (boys' required attire: wifebeater tee-shirts and hair gel slick enough to skateboard on).

Basically, this is their M.O.: Send the kids to school until they're 16 and can legally drop-out. THEN travel around the country in flashy pick-ups and con mostly elderly folks into having their driveways paved or their houses painted for the mere sum of their client's life savings. And they're a little incestuous too, but that's another story.

"Jane's" mother didn't approve of her daughter's relationship with GypsyBoy, and became concerned when she suddenly disappeared for about a week in the middle of the school year. Eventually, she contacted Dr. Phil to track her daughter down. They found her in Florida, with GypsyBoy and his family, and the rest was just plain Jerry Springer. T.V cameras recorded pretty much the following (Condensed Version):

JANE: "I HATE my muthu. Give me my fuckin cellphone back!"

JANE'S SISTER: (who I PERSONALLY wouldn't screw with...while wrestling with Jane) "You Bleeping Bleeping Bleeping Bitch! You ain't supposed to have a cellphone!"

JANE'S Mutha: "I just want my daughta back."

JANE'S BOYFRIEND: (Live on the Loud Dr. Phil Show Phone). "Ummmmm." Pause. "Ummmmm, I love you baby."

Later In The Day:

JANE: "Get outta my face! I wanna have a butt and I need a lighta! You SUCK!"

Yup. Too bad I missed Part II-I'm sure the entire clan made us all proud again.

I Am A Happy American

A couple of years ago the former Governor of New Jersey Jim McGreevey resigned from his position because he forgot to tell everyone in his state, including his wife, that he was gay.

OOPS.

His press conference announcing his resignation happened, ironically, JUST before he was going to be "outed" by a man he had a crush on. Instead of giving the object of his affection a tasteful floral arrangement or perhaps a pair of designer leather pants, he presented him with a gift of a six figure job somewhere in the Homeland Security Department of his state. So what if he wasn't qualified? Big deal if he wasn't an American citizen. He was HOT, and the Gov wanted some action!

But as soon as Governor Libido caught wind that there was a sexual harrassment lawsuit pending against him, he stood before the world and announced that he was a "Gay American." Poor guy. Joan of Arc has nothing on him.

Now he's running around the country plugging a book in which he says, basically, "I've known I was gay since I was three but I'm an a deceitful opportunist and a coward who got caught." HE doesn't word it quite that way, but those of us who don't belong to the "I'm Gay and No Matter What I Do I'm a Martyr Club" get it.

I hope his book tanks-I'd accept 332,653,000 on the Amazon.com "bestseller" list. I hope he's par boiled in every interview he does. And mostly, I hope his ex-wife writes a book that shoots immediately to the top.

Not that I have any personal bias regarding this issue or anything. I'd be happy to write a review of his book, but I don't think I could stomache the smell of going near it-even if Borders gave me a discount.

WAY Too Confusing

As I've mentioned before, my oldest daughter is running on her school's Cross Country team.

Before she started I thought she would be "fast." I now need to ammend that prediction by stating that at least she's never "last."

Anyway, she doesn't attend the school where I teach, and the other day her team had a meet against my school.

After 20 years of hollering "Go Blue!!!!" I suddenly found myself having a "Crisis of Loyalty." So I decided to be an Equal Opportunity Chearleader, a wishy washy fan of the sport who "just wants ALL of the children to do well." Secretly wishing, of course, that my daughter would be wearing jet propelled sneakers and would blow through the course in record speed. I also wish I would win the lottery.

Unfortunately,(OOPS. I mean "Fortunately!") my school has some "Nasty" long distance runners.
("Nasty," according to Webster's Dictionary of Stupid Adolescent Lingo, means 'Really Really Good.').

So my daughter plodded through the course, and as she came towards the finish (not quite last) a girl from the Blue team was right on her heels. So Blue Coach starting screaming at her to "MOVE IT!!!! RUN!!!! DON'T LET HER TAKE YOU!!! (He's a bit more aninimate than my daughter's coach.)

Scared the SHIT out of my daughter, and she bolted faster than I've ever seen her run. She beat BlueGirl, and I thanked the Blue Coach for giving her that extra push.

Afterwards, of course, my daughter complained about the following:

"I look like CRAP!"

"I HATE long distances. I want to run from there-pointing to one end of the athlectic field-to THERE-pointing to the other end."

"Some of the girls from your school are WICKED bitches." (A conclusion she arrived at after profound contemplation resulting from a few 30 second introductions.)

At least she thinks her boobs are getting bigger due to the daily workouts. And her calves, she told me recently, are "nasty!"

1-800-HEAVEN

Today the Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez gave a slightly strongly worded address to the United Nations General Assembly referring to George W. as "The Devil." Several times. And he was waving around a book by Noam Chomsky, advising everyone to read it.

W. found himself in a rather awkward position after hearing this speech-why would ANYONE accuse such a God-Fearing and completely correct leader of the World's Greatest Country of being the Anti-Christ simply because he wants the entire planet to do exactly what he says they should do or else he'll send in troops? ? And why were so many people applauding?

So George did what he always does in times of crisis: he picked up his GodPhone and called 1-800-HEAVEN.

GEORGE W: " Hello, God? Some president from an insignificant country called Venezuela referred to me as "The Devil" today. In front of a packed audience of representatives from other lesser countries. I quit drinking, I read the Bible, with Laura's assistance, and I'm leading a great Crusade against people who don't agree with me. So what's going on here?"

GOD: I heard about that. Don't worry. I'll smite them all."

GEORGE W: "What's 'Smite' mean?"

GOD: "Don't worry about it. Smiting is my responsibity."

GEORGE W: "Thanks. I can barely use the words I DO know right. So are you going to spread Plague and Locusts and stuff all over Venezuela anytime soon?"

GOD: "Just let me deal with it George."

George W: "Ok. But they have oil."

GOD: "Oh yeah. I forgot. I guess you're a little screwed there."

GEORGE W: "And who's Noam Chomsky by the way?"

GOD: "George, I've got a couple of other things on my plate right now. Go to a library-or ask your wife, the Librarian."

GEORGE W: "Ok. As soon as I finish mastering "Goodnight Moon," I'll get right to it. But I'm not the Devil, right?"

GOD: " Goodnight George."

Why Republicans Are Stupid

1. They know less about the Constitution than my 5th Grade daughter.

2. They consider actual evidence to be "pesky" if it does not coorespond with their beliefs.

3. They refer to anyone who disagrees with the war in Iraq to be "Treasonous." (Refer to # 1)

4. They watch Fox TV and think they're getting news.

5. They elect dimwitted nutjobs to the highest positions of power and pretend those folks are doing a great job when they're actually destroying our credibility throughout the world and diminishing our ability to be an effective force of reason everywhere.

6. They have no sense of history.

7. They don't care about anyone but themselves.

8. They are the party which professes to want "limited government" but has managed to create a government far larger and more invasive than any in our history.

9. They believe "God" is guiding them (refer to # 1).

10. They are "not so secret" Social Darwinists.

11. I'm pretty sure they don't know how to read.

12. They confuse "elections" with "democracy," and believe in their hearts that the world, and our country, should be run by an oligarchy of rich insiders.

13. As soon as their fortunes wane, they miraculously become Democrats.

Vanity Plates and Bumper Stickers

I don't agree with them.

Yesterday I was driving behind this enourmous SUV/Truck thingy, the kind of vehicle that has to stop every three miles or so to get gas, and its license plate said "4X4." Duh. The owner went out of his way and paid extra money to get a license plate that not only stated the obvious, but was a commentary on the kind of ENGINE he had. Please explain what that's all about.

All sorts of people get vanity plates, and most of the time they tell us more about the lives of the strangers we're passing on the highway than we care to know. The really retarded, mostly young girls, get plates with their actual names or stupid nicknames on them. "Wave to 'Cathee' kids!" "Hey, that must be 'ElaineXX'!" Idiots.

The VERY lucky manage to get plates that say things like "SEXIMOM" or "2CUTE4U." And most of the time one glance demonstrates they are neither. I can't imagine going to the Registry of Moter Vehicles and asking the cheerful person behind the counter "What kind of vanity plate names do you have for someone who is blonde with large breasts?" (Note to those of you who still ride the "short bus" to school or work: If you're blonde with large breasts, guys will notice. Vanity plates are not required.)

Bumper stickers are less annoying, but equally stupid. There's always some car that has so many bumper stickers plastered on them that you can sum up the driver's entire life with one quick read.

Liberal Blowhard: 'Free Tibet.' 'Arms Are For Hugging.' 'Lesbian on Board.' (I made that one up, but I'll bet it would sell.) 'Keep Your Laws Off My Body.' Etc.

Conservative Blowhard: 'A Baby Is Not A Choice.' 'God Bless Our Troops.' 'If
Guns Were Outlawed Only Outlaws Will Have Guns.' 'Reagan Is Still Alive In My Heart.' (Again-made that one up-but it would sell!) Etc....

By far the most obnoxious bumper sticker is the one that says "God Is My Co-Pilot." Hey jerkoff, you're driving a CAR, not a 747 Passenger Plane. You can drive ALL BY YOURSELF, legally!"

My daughter especially hates that one, because it reminds her of that Carrie Underwood song "Jesus Take the Wheel." For some reason, that song just pisses her off. It was on the radio one day and she said "Go ahead mom. I dare you. Let Jesus take the wheel." And I said "We'll just end up in a ditch. And my insurance will go up."

But to be fair, I won't let my own family off the hook here. My sister has a bumper sticker on her car that says "I Love My Family." Again, Duh. Did the store run out of "My Family Sucks" stickers?

I Stole This

This idea is not mine-it belongs to the 12 year old son of my friend Joanie (Real Name: Joanie).

Anyway, they are fans of the show "Survivor," and as we all know, there's a big fat ugly nasty controversy about the next season, where the producers decided to divide the teams into "Ethnic Groups." Advertisers think this idea is so wonderful that they're taking their cash and running away from the show faster than Simba ran from the stampede in "The Lion King."

But Joanie's son had an even CLASSIER idea. HE suggested the show should feature teams divided according to their handicaps:

Team 1: Parapalygics
Team 2: Blind People
Team 3: Deaf People
Team 4: Autistic Savants

I wasn't there for the actual conversation, and I've only watched "Survivor"
maybe twice, but I thought the idea was inspired, because eventually the teams would have to "merge."

Parapalygic: "My wheelchair is stuck in the fucking sand. Could I have some help please???"

Blind Person: "I'll help. Where are you?"

Deaf Person: "What did you say?"

Autistic Savant: " I can't help you, but I can tell you EXACTLY how many grains of sand you're stuck in."

Parapaylgic: "Nevermind. Just DON'T toss me in the water to find fish."

Blind Person: "What water?"

Yup. I'm defintely going to Hell now.

I"ll Take Hell Please

I have nothing against really religious people as long as they

a. Stay very far away from me and

b. Don't want to kill me

Go to your church, synagogue, mosque, spaceship or whatever and worship your brains out. Kneel towards Mecca, bath in or drink your Holy Water (several 8 ounce glasses per day recommended-Oh, sorry. That was from Weight Watchers), sing in Hebrew (the words are written backwards, by the way-so if you're searching around for a new religion and have difficulty reading People Magazine, this one probably isn't for you), hum, chant, do the Tango-I could care less-just keep it out of MY life.

Many religions, though, go out of their way to get in your face. Some send clean cut young men, wearing suits and ties RIGHT TO YOUR FRONT DOOR with pamphlets explaining to you that the only way to avoid spending an eternity in Hell is to spend your brief LIFETIME in Hell hanging out with freaks like them. Shouldn't these guys be watching football games, drinking beer directly from the keg, and trolling the local bars trying to pick up chicks?

And then there are the "Born-Again Christians..." I don't even know what that means, but if either of MY kids wanted to be "Born Again" they can hire someone else to go through the 30 hours of labor part. I actually know a lot of "Born Agains," and one young man tried to convince me that the sex he had BEFORE he "found" Christ DIDN'T COUNT. What do you mean it didn't count???? I'll bet it would've counted a LOT if he had knocked someone up. Unless Christ was willing to kick in for the child support payments.

Of course, we can always rely on the crazed Muslims. All you have to do is say something in public like "Gee, those Burkas aren't very fashionable, and they don't look all that comfortable" and thousands of them would start piling into the streets of their hometowns shooting guns in the air and burning shit (preferably American Flags-crazed Muslims must own more American Flags than you'd see across all of America on the Fourth of July and Veterans day combined-I'll bet there are as many "Flags For Burning" outlets in the Islamic world as there are Wal-Marts here), screaming "Jihad" and, the now getting a little old and boring, "Death To America." And then they'd put a hit out on whoever made the offensive comment. They're like Professional Protesters. Eventually they go home, and if they have a satellite dish, they'll look for MTV or Bay Watch re-runs. I don't like these folks-they're WAY too sensitive. And usually armed.

My point? If you want to sell me your religion, or kill me because I don't share yours, then you must first allow me to spend hours discussing with YOU all of my personal hygiene habits, the details of my recent visit to my OBGYN, and a minute by minute discription of both of my childrens' births. Including pictures.

Things That Should Be Illegal

The following should be made illegal based on the results of objective scientific studies which prove, indisputedly, that I don't like them:

1. Any car driving behind you that looks like a police car.

2. Any car driving behind you that IS a police car.

3. Any show, movie, mini-series etc. that even has a cameo appearance by Sarah Jessica Parker

4. Peanut Butter ice cream-it's just not meant to be. Ask God if you doubt me on this one

5. Kids With Cans

6. Recipes that include beets or brussel sprouts

7. Madonna's pretentious affected British accent (You're from MICHIGAN, asshole)-or maybe we should just outlaw Madonna altogether

8. Super Mothers who put helmets on their kids' heads to take a walk around the block, purchase only politically correct toys (yeah, like you son's not going to pick up a stick and pretend it's a gun?),chat with you at your kid's soccer game about how many activities THEIR kids are involved in, complain that their kids' aren't being challenged enough at pre-school, and are sure there's a pedophile lurking around every corner. Please shut up.

9. Taco Bell (sorry nooprah-I just don't know how you do it)

10. People in the grocery store in front of you who have 20 items in the "10 Items or Less" lane and then use a check to pay. They should be arrested, prosecuted, and executed on the spot.

11. Really loud motorcycles with drivers who feel the need to "rev the engine" at red lights. We get it-you have a really loud motorcycle and
a very small penis.

12. Organized Religions. They're mostly just stupid, but sometimes scary.

13. Most Republicans (refer to the above comment). Let me qualify that statement-it should be LEGAL for you to be a Republican, but ILLEGAL for you to vote.

That's all I've got right now. Feel free to add or yell at me. From a distance. But you can't argue with the hard facts of scientific research.

Julie's Stupid Suggestion

My daughter reminded me of this "exchange" today-it apparently cracked her up but she was too polite to say anything to my sister. I wasn't though.

As we were driving to the "Raven" concert (I got shotgun, so my daughters didn't have the opportunity to change the radio station every 10 seconds...God Bless Shotgun!), we had the following, brief but revealing, conversation:

ME: So, did you know that (oldest daughter: Real Name: oldest daughter) is on the Cross Country Team this year?

JULIE: Yeah. How do you like it? (she asked my oldest daughter who was sitting in the back seat wishing she had fingers the size of yardsticks so she could play with the radio)

DAUGHTER: It's OK. I just don't like running the long distances.

JULIE: Maybe you should try a marathon!

Daughter: Ummmm.(not really sure how to respond)

ME: IDIOT!

Need I say more? I think her own son called her "retarded" at that point, a label he usually reserves for me.

No More Concerts, Thank-You

I can't even talk about the whole "Raven" experience. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder now as a result of it-it's only been a day and I'm already having frightening flashbacks. 'Nam' type flashbacks-think I should apply for disability?

But there were FOUR positives that I can share without having a mental meltdown:

1. My youngest daughter loved it.

2. Sprinkles of rain turned into torrential downpours about 3/4 of the way through the"That's So Raven's" show (or,'IT'S' So Raven, as my clueless sister continued to say despite numerous attempts by my daughters to correct her. She has a son, so she's excused, but at least we all had the opportunity to call her retarded), so she (Raven) couldn't continue. Shucks.

3. There were approximately 835,000,000 people literally SWIMMING out of the park at the same time trying to reach the safety of their cars (there weren't enough lifeboats; multiplatinum season ticket holders got first dibs on park provided transportation-the rest of us had to find doors and other amusement park debis to float on). Our car was somewhere in the Siberian section of the Six Flags lot, and our excursion there was, frankly, funny. It was like a massive wet tee-shirt contest-all of those fathers who stayed home to "watch the game" have no clue what they were missing.

4. We weren't struck by lightening, which is always good.

Anyway, mission accomplished. Maybe someday I will be able to actually speak about the event, but for now (or maybe forever) I'm just going to keep it locked up in the Federal Reserve section of my brain.

That's So Scary.....

Remember the good old days when you would pile into someone's van that had a shag rug on the floor (seats were optional) and posters hanging in spots where there should have been windows and you would be SO psyched because you were going to a CONCERT?

Maybe Alice Cooper, Lynyrd Skynyrd (Fucking FREEBIRD!!!-Any questions about 70's Rock trivia should be directed to Anunomess-but "FreeBird' may still be screamed at ANY concert), Pink Floyd-whatever you had tickets to. (Ok-maybe I'm dating myself here, but I'm not dating anyone else so why not? Besides, no matter HOW old you are, you've seen at least ONE episode of "That 70"s Show").

Anyway, the van would reek of pot, someone would throw up before the show even started, and you could always count on the band being MORE fucked-up than anyone in the audience. As Archie Bunker once sang..."Those Were the Days."

Well YIPPEE!!! I get to go to a concert again tomorrow! But this concert will not include cool vans or pot. Nope. Instead it will involve pre-concert comments like "Does anyone need to go to the bathroom before we leave? Does everyone have their seatbelts on?" I'm taking my daughters to see Raven. Anyone have a razor blade I can borrow? I have two to wrists to slit.

Raven, by the way, is the star of the world's MOST obnoxious Disney TV show called "That's So Raven." When she was small and cute, she was on the Cosby Show-then she grew up to be a fat, talent-free, hyperenergetic Disney superstar with her very own show that I would frankly rather eat an entire vat of beets than watch. But my kids love her. And guess what???? She's doing a concert (she pretend sings too-one of her many non-talents) close enough to home that I couldn't think up a decent excuse NOT to take them. That's So SUPER!!!!

I've already got the stupid theme song of her stupid show stuck in my stupid head-right now. Personally, I'd prefer to be Schizophrenic and hear voices telling me that the CIA, FBI, and (the now dismantled) KGB were chasing me than hear "That's So Raven" playing in my brain like a CD that keeps skipping back to the same track. And the concert's not even until TOMORROW. At 6 PM! The only consolation I can come up with is the fact that my kids are at least too old for Barney.

Oh well. Maybe I'll squeeze the "throw-up" part into this whole concert experience. Just like the Good Old Days.

But if you hear on the news about some deranged mother being dragged out of a Raven concert screaming "Fucking FREEBIRD!!!" you'll know. That would be me.

CNN Does It Again

There are SO many good picks from the online CNN Headlines today that I didn't even know what to choose as the most idiotic.

This is what happens when you have people who must've once been smart stay up all night to cover hard hitting news stories. They became like sleep deprived teenaged girls at a slumber party. Around 3 AM these Columbia University graduates must be rolling around the newsroom floor laughing so much they're snorting over who came up with the stupidest headline (after the boss leaves, of course).

Today, my vote goes to "Stephen Hawkings Needs an Assistant." Once again, I didn't even bother to read the article-the headline was WAY too entertaining, and I didn't want to spoil their fun.

Next thing you know, these top notch, Ivy League educated CNN reporters are going to start crank calling us at 4 AM...after they've raided the company refrigerator, that is.

Someday She'll Catch Me

First of all, this post is not for the childfree or fainthearted. But I'll make it quick.

I picked up my 14 year old from her Cross Country practice today (she's actually gone to every practice so far, and pisses and moans about it every single day. I think she's still waiting for the "parental lie" about her boobs and her butt getting bigger to materialize).

Anyway, she got into the car and said immediately "My vagina hurts."

I responded "You're vagina hurts? How come?"

And she said "Probably from all of the running I've been doing."

I could've been smart and left it at that.

But no. Instead, I STUPIDLY, IDIOTICALLY, RETARDEDLY responded by saying "Your vagina hurts from RUNNING?"

She didn't skip a beat. She said "Well, maybe it could be from all of the sex I had last night."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Can't you tell I'm still CRACKING UP over that oh-so-funny-just-what-a-mother-wants-to-hear joke? After I became immediately catatonic and my eyes popped out of my head like I had those cartoon bobbing wires attached to them, she said

"JUST KIDDING MOM!!!! OH MY GOD AHHHH!"

I need some of those puppy meds NOW.

But what scares me even more is the possibility, however remote, that she'll actually FIND this post. I'll need more than puppy meds then-I'll need EMT'S and a MEDFLIGHT to airlift me to the best hospital in the country so the doctors can remove the knives she will have plunged into my body.

Thank God there's a "delete" option, just in case.

STUPID STUPID KID "CONVERSATION"

A WAY too cool for school 4'2" tall Gangsta Wannabe Freshman boy strolls, with attitude, into my study hall about ten minutes late today.

Me: Where've you been?

Gangsta Wannabe: "Um." (pause for the synapses to begin firing so he can think of some REALLY clever excuse). "I was in the bathroom. Throwing up."

ME: "Please. THAT was removed from the "Excuse Manual" years ago. Unless you're pregnant. Because if you are, you REEK of cigarettes and that's not healthy for your unborn child. Maybe you should've used some cologne to hide that 'throw-up' smell instead of cigarette smoke. Should you go see the nurse?"

Gangsta Wannabe: Blank stare.

ME: (In Stern Teacher Lecture Voice) "You know son,it's only the second day of school, and I promise you that you're going to have a VERY long eight years of high school if you keep this stuff up."

Gangsta Wannabe: "Huh?"

Is it June yet?

(And before anyone even asks, Gangsta Wannabe is NOT pregnant. I checked with the school nurse. It's my job to understand when my students are experiencing personal hardships.)

Smooth as Silk

No, I'm not talking about Katie Couric's legs (never touched them anyway), but I figured I had to mention her name in deference to nooprah.

Nope. I'm talking about the first day of school. I'm SUCH a pro I've already decided which kid I'm going to hate the most this year (and because I am very concerned about my students' "self-esteem," I suggested to him that perhaps, since he is now 17 years old and STILL a Freshman, he might consider stop making everyone else around him as miserable as he is and leave, take his GED, get a job, and pay taxes. He can't stand me either, needless to say, and misses no opportunity to let me know. We have some "history").

So overall the day was successful. (Except when one kid told me I had her sister in class some time ago and her sister said I was her favorite teacher ever. I said, "Oh Yeah, I remember Laurie. How old is she now?" And the kid said "33." THAT bummed me out. But I suppose when you're 70, this is bound to happen).

I never had Katie Couric in class though. I would've remembered the perkiness.

Back To School...For Real

I go back to school tomorrow for real. By "for real" I mean there will be actual kids there whose names I'm going to have to learn. And I'm going to have to teach them stuff.

Last week we had our annual required "faculty" day where we basically just listened to speeches. First our Superintendent of Schools rolled up in her $80,000 vehicle and gave us a speech about how broke the school is, how we'll probably have to supply our own toilet paper this year, and then told us what an amazing inspiration we are to the future of America. Then our Principal gave us a speech and told us how broke we are, provided an inspirational story about how important we are to the lives our students, and sat us all in a circle so we could hold hands and sing Kumbaya. (Kidding about the last part! But he would if he thought he could get away with it!) With my many years of experience I've come to understand why the adults in those Charlie Brown cartoons sound like mooses mating (And no-I've never listened to mating mooses-I'm just guessing) because that's pretty much the way my bosses sound to me on these days. And they don't even have the courtesy to supply us with drugs and alcohol on this important inspirational occasion.

Notice how busy I am preparing my lessons? I just know too much to bother. The first day of school ALWAYS comes as a suprise to those in charge. Our computers won't work, textbooks will still be "on their way," and our generated class lists will bear no resemblance to the eager-to-learn teenagers who show up and occupy the desks in our classrooms (the desks, by the way, will almost certainly be glued to the floor because the crack cleaning company hired over the summer will have washed and waxed without bothering to actually move them).

But at least SOME OF US (Read: ME) know what we're doing and will manage, despite all obstacles, to iron out the kinks and make the day work. All, of course, while being extremely inspirational.

RICHARD: IDIOT OR PSYCHIC?

My brother Richard is a well known Documented Idiot. He's proud of his status, and works hard to maintain it.

Many years ago he informed me that I could cure any case of hiccups by putting a penny between my toes. Knowing what a retard he is, I suspected that his theory may not have been published in the New England Journal of Medicine. Just a hunch.
In fact, I questioned his sanity, along with a very lengthy list of other people, including his other family members and numerous law enforcement agencies.

But over the years I thought I was pretty darn funny when someone had the hiccups and I suggested they put a penny between their toes (first and second toes, by the way). I cracked MYSELF up at least (which is very important). Folks usually just gave me the same look they probably give my brother no matter what he says. It's that curious, almost frightened "What the hell are you talking about and please stay very far away from me" gaze.

But then tonight happened. I got a severe case of the hiccups. My daughter is willing to attest to its severity. I tried all of the doctor recommended remedies, but nothing worked. I thought I might actually be the first person on the planet to hiccup myself to death. But before I called 911, I did it. Swear to God. I put a penny between my toes (first and second).

And my hiccups went away. Immediately.

My brother scares me now.

QUIT STARING AT ME!

Ok. It's bad enough that I'm a mouse stuck in an aquarium, which, by the way, are made for FISH.

But why does this STUPID dog insist on staring at me 24/7?

I admit, I've got a brain the size of a Cocoa Crispie, but even I deserve a little privacy. And I'm programmed to be scared of CATS-there are FIVE of those feline felons roaming around this house but they could give a shit less about me. It's the damn DOG that's got me worried.

Ever heard of HARRASSMENT Fido?

I can't bathe, dress, or talk on the phone without that creature staring at me. Morning noon and night. I can't get rid of him.

I avoid my exercise wheel. I've piled my shavings as high as possible so the dog can't see me. I don't attend social events. Nothing works. I'm thinking of going into a Witness Protection Program.


How would YOU like to wake up every morning and see THIS staring at you

I know his mother thinks he has endearing blue eyes, but I think they're Devil eyes. They give me nightmares.

Don't you have a car to chase, a frizbee to catch, or an ass to lick or something?

Before I call a contractor to build a stonewall in front of my "aquarium" home, I'm filing for a restraining order. Maybe THAT will wake you up and scare you back to Dogland to rummage through other peoples' trash and bark at inanimate objects. THAT'S where you belong.

Get over me. I'm a MOUSE for Christ Sake! We're NOT meant to be, and people are starting to talk.

So just go away. Bury a bone. Hang around the kitchen table waiting for someone to drop something. Do anything. Just QUIT staring at me!!!!!

Where Do I Sign Up?

Normally I'm opposed to religions that have strict food and clothing requirements (come to think of it,I'm basically just opposed to religion).

But CNN had a "Breaking News Alert" on its website today saying Al Qaeda's new "Second in Command" (Read: Loser who can't even take over the corner office from a guy who lives in a cave) has sent out an intenet message entitled "Invitation To Islam."

I didn't read the post-first of all, I think the title speaks for itself. And secondly, I don't want Federal Officials swarming my house before I've had a chance to at least wash the dishes in my sink.

Anyway, this Al Qaeda VIP, who's name is Ayman Al Zawawerenowhiring is looking for recruits. I'm assuming he didn't try Monster.com or some of the other reputable hiring sites (which is why HE doesn't have the corner office, I'll bet). Instead, he placed his "Help Wanted" ad tucked into some secret website full of crypotgrams even Dan Brown couldn't decifer. Yeah buddy-that'll get you the Best and the Brightest.

But having been in the same job for a number of years, I naturally thought,"What can this Al Qaeda Inc. offer me?"

I must admit there are many perks:

1. A lifetime in a desert with no running water

2. A fitness routine which will get me in shape in no time and teach me to run really fast while hauling an AK47 (whatever that is-I must've heard about them on Law & Order or Frontline...yeah yeah yeah...they're guns. But that's all I know)

3. Attactive outfits that look like my bedsheets dyed black with little holes where my eyes are so I might be able to actually SEE 3 inches in front of me-it would be like Halloween EVERDAY!

4. The possiblity of finding ONE husband who has 30 other wives

5. The "protection" of men who may routinely beat the shit out of me for my own good

6. The honor of being so respected and revered that 12 year old boys can throw rocks at me in the streets if my ankles are showing, thus guarding my dignity

7. And if I'm REALLY on the "fast track," the opportunity to wear a designer suicide vest for the purpose of blowing up innocent people, including myself, of course, and getting a street named after me

8. A Hefty Trashbag full of American Flags to burn at random (tossed in would be a couple of Israeli Flags, just for variety)

Man. Tough decision. But I don't think I would be a good "fit" for your company, Mr. Ayman Al Zawawerenowhiring.

Too many food requirements, and I'm just not willing to give up my Sour Cream and Onion Chips, Cocoa Puffs, or McDonalds. And there's WAY too much praying
required ( I'll bet you a couple of Red Sox Tickets that the women are secretely praying "GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!!!!!)

But thanks for the offer-and feel free to send those 12 year old little brats
into MY classroom. I'll have THEM shaped up in no time.

Think The Coach Will Be Mad At ME?

I went to pick up my daughter yesterday after her Cross Country practice.

For those of you not "in the know," Cross Country involves running. Running hills, running loops, running distances...running running running.

At any rate, my youngest and I waited around the high school for about 15 minutes and then decided to go look for her. And we finally found her, with a buddy, RUNNING.

When she saw my car she suddenly got the same look on her face that she gets on Christmas morning. So I pulled over and gave her and her running buddy a RIDE back to the high school.

I'm pretty sure I wasn't quite following the coach's strict training routine, but what's a mother to do?

Don't tell.