The ongoing catastrophe that is my sleep-dream cycle has once again spiraled out of control. Evidently, my real life isn't scary enough that I have to make up the craziest shit ever while trying to rest.
Cut to: the fog lifts to a scene between me (who is not really married to Grant anymore) Grant's mom and his dad. [I know you, you're thinking, "This is gonna be good!"]
Grant's dad to mom: So what I'm trying to say is, I had an affair 28 years ago and Grant is not really yours, he's mine and Teresa's somewhat related aunt (who is a fictitious person).
Grant's mom: Oh, okay then.
Me: WHAT THE FUCK?
Grant's mom: Well, it makes sense. I'm not mad at you, we've been married a long time and things like this are bound to happen. I'm glad you told me.
Me: WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?
Grant's dad: Don't worry Teresa, it's not your fault.
Me: I'm sorry, did you just say my fault? How the hell would this be my fault? I don't even know this woman you're saying is my aunt. And furthermore, are you insane? How can you not know you didn't give birth to your child? You're batshit, people. All of you.
Scene ends with Grant's parents trying to give me a group hug.
Holy hell, I'd rather just be awake. And though now I seriously want to Chuck Norris someone's face, I can't decide between his dad, his mom, my fictitious aunt, or Grant.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Power to the Little People
You may remember this story about my social prowess when fraternizing with important "power people" that my husband and I meet from time to time. You know the people, they may be slightly older than you, well established in impressive careers, usually very well traveled, and more often than not, expert conversationalists. Read: Intimidating as hell. Well, friends, I've been holding another such instance from you and per former president Billy Clinton, I must be honest about it.
Setting the scene: my husband and I are set to have dinner in the city with a certain power couple that we're somewhat familiar with. Since most of our meetings had previously been group gatherings, this would be the first stand alone social occasion for the 4 of us. The wife component of the other couple is a medical doctor (of course) and her husband after graduating from West Point and two trips as a paratrooper to Iraq (that's right TWO tours) is currently a professor of history at the Academy. Not at all intimidating. To add insult to injury, they are the sweetest, nicest people you've ever met with giant hearts to match their giant brains.
And in the other corner: me and Grant. Two homegrown, cornfed Ohioans who consider Florida a foreign destination. One, a boring baby nurse who may or may not have been fired/quit her previous place of employment for calling off to often, and the other a wet-behind the ears, freshman coffee boy* for Lehman Brothers (love you, honey). Stellar life experience alert! Look out.
Anyway, needless to say my desperation over making any friends in this city overwhelms my self consciousness about not being a "power" person and we're off! The evening begins splendidly and I make sure to only have one drink before we're seated so as to not appear the binge drinker that I am. We are seated and I'm spewing compliments about the restaurant, since it was their choice, and feeling like I'm on my A game. The waiter approaches for our order and I try to pick choices from a variety of ingredients rather than my usual selection from the children's menu: an order of chicken fingers and french fries. Everyone orders and conversation continues.
From time to time the conversation takes a turn that I have absolutely no f-ing clue about what they are speaking so I politely take a drink of water or go powder my nose. Standard. Our apps come and mine is amazing so I swiftly inhale it - without choking - and ready my place for the main course. And then it happens.
In an attempt to complement their restaurant choice again, I take the opportunity of a lull in the conversation to clear my throat and pronounce proudly that, "My appetizer was wonderful! The sweetbreads didn't taste like bread at all!"
Nails in the coffin.
Setting the scene: my husband and I are set to have dinner in the city with a certain power couple that we're somewhat familiar with. Since most of our meetings had previously been group gatherings, this would be the first stand alone social occasion for the 4 of us. The wife component of the other couple is a medical doctor (of course) and her husband after graduating from West Point and two trips as a paratrooper to Iraq (that's right TWO tours) is currently a professor of history at the Academy. Not at all intimidating. To add insult to injury, they are the sweetest, nicest people you've ever met with giant hearts to match their giant brains.
And in the other corner: me and Grant. Two homegrown, cornfed Ohioans who consider Florida a foreign destination. One, a boring baby nurse who may or may not have been fired/quit her previous place of employment for calling off to often, and the other a wet-behind the ears, freshman coffee boy* for Lehman Brothers (love you, honey). Stellar life experience alert! Look out.
Anyway, needless to say my desperation over making any friends in this city overwhelms my self consciousness about not being a "power" person and we're off! The evening begins splendidly and I make sure to only have one drink before we're seated so as to not appear the binge drinker that I am. We are seated and I'm spewing compliments about the restaurant, since it was their choice, and feeling like I'm on my A game. The waiter approaches for our order and I try to pick choices from a variety of ingredients rather than my usual selection from the children's menu: an order of chicken fingers and french fries. Everyone orders and conversation continues.
From time to time the conversation takes a turn that I have absolutely no f-ing clue about what they are speaking so I politely take a drink of water or go powder my nose. Standard. Our apps come and mine is amazing so I swiftly inhale it - without choking - and ready my place for the main course. And then it happens.
In an attempt to complement their restaurant choice again, I take the opportunity of a lull in the conversation to clear my throat and pronounce proudly that, "My appetizer was wonderful! The sweetbreads didn't taste like bread at all!"
Nails in the coffin.
~R.I.P social networking skills~
We loved you once, and now no more.
*No, you were not really an errand boy, it just makes for a better story...
Sunday, March 29, 2009
And Those Little Petite Fors, Too
I have recently entered the realm of Wedding Season Extravaganza which comes at a perfect time to mask my discontent over returning to work. My palms are sweaty with images of 2 of my closest friends tieing the knot this summer and fall and it's downright intoxicating. And since I cannot partake of actual intoxication these days, see here and here, I must take what I can get.
There are not many things I love more than weddings and rehearsals, showers and bachelorette parties, white lace and panty hose. I would guess that most people hold their own wedding up on a pedestal to compare every other wedding they attend to, but for me, every wedding is it's own special destination and the people who allow us to share in their journey there make each one the most special thing I've ever been a part of. What I'm trying to say is it's better than Grey's Anatomy, now do you understand?
So as the economy crashes and burns, our spending far outweighs our income (sidenote: I thought and/or think the opposite of income should be "outcome"), and the baby continues to wake me several times in the night, I can honestly say, it's okay! Because there are still weddings and people falling in love and candy almonds to get us through.
Whew.
There are not many things I love more than weddings and rehearsals, showers and bachelorette parties, white lace and panty hose. I would guess that most people hold their own wedding up on a pedestal to compare every other wedding they attend to, but for me, every wedding is it's own special destination and the people who allow us to share in their journey there make each one the most special thing I've ever been a part of. What I'm trying to say is it's better than Grey's Anatomy, now do you understand?
So as the economy crashes and burns, our spending far outweighs our income (sidenote: I thought and/or think the opposite of income should be "outcome"), and the baby continues to wake me several times in the night, I can honestly say, it's okay! Because there are still weddings and people falling in love and candy almonds to get us through.
Whew.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Mighty Music
I have a confession to make, I've been neglecting more than my health, razor, and credit card statements lately. This list includes my favorite blogs. I used to check my fav's several times a day and now it goes weeks before I have time and energy to keep up this exhausting but enlightening hobby.
So today I found this post by Maggie Mason of Mighty Girl and I am renewed with the spirit of the blogging e-community again. I think I became immune to it for a while but I remember now how amazing it is that the web opens us up to so much exposure of so many different things and enables us to learn so much so quickly. What I'm trying to say is, I love you Internet, never leave me. Enjoy!
~ UPDATE! I just realized where I know Zooey from. She was in Elf. Whew, now I can relax for the rest of the day, instead of pulling my hair out one strand at a time trying to figure that out. [sigh]
So today I found this post by Maggie Mason of Mighty Girl and I am renewed with the spirit of the blogging e-community again. I think I became immune to it for a while but I remember now how amazing it is that the web opens us up to so much exposure of so many different things and enables us to learn so much so quickly. What I'm trying to say is, I love you Internet, never leave me. Enjoy!
~ UPDATE! I just realized where I know Zooey from. She was in Elf. Whew, now I can relax for the rest of the day, instead of pulling my hair out one strand at a time trying to figure that out. [sigh]
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
She's No Mariska Hargitay
One positive note about living in the Bronx, and come to think of it, it's actually not so positive after all, they always shoot Law and Order episodes on our block. Ironic 3 days after my car was broken into right? Anyway, I've been freaking out excited since last week when I saw the no parking signs littering 4 square blocks for set traffic the day of the shoot. After being rained out on Friday, they rescheduled for Tuesday and I was ready! I mentioned more than once to Grant who was trying to ignore me that once they took a look at the face of our beautiful child they would fall prostrate to him and immediately swear he had a face for crime novel tv show history.
My first trip (of many) to the set on Tuesday yielded much success as Katheryn Erbe walked right past me (across the street anyway) and would have totally noticed us but her attention was drawn to the coffee and bagel in her hands. I mean, the woman needs her strength, I totally understood. So I took a lap with Griffin in the stroller and what do my wandering eyes find but Vince D'Onofrio AND Katheryn in the middle of talking scene talk with some director-looking people. They would have totally noticed me and called us over but they were focusing so intently on their scene, completely understandable.
Trip #2 to the set a few hours later produced another clear shot of Katheryn, this time leaving the shoot for her trailer. It was pretty cold out (ask Griffin, I didn't have time to dress him very warmly considering I needed to maximize our time "on set") so she pretty much ignored everyone as she headed into the trailer, sadly we were part of the "everyone". But some nice looking directorish man smiled at us as we walked past, which may or may not have had something to do with our little gang's appearance. [Griffin in the Bjorn, me on the cell phone looking interesting, and Hunter dragging both of us down the street so he can pee on the 74th tree in 5 minutes.]
The third and final trip I felt comfortable in making, considering there were several police watching over the set and I'm pretty sure they were getting ready to arrest me, was uneventful. No Katheryn. No Vince. And no director-looking people. However, I'm pretty sure a lighting guy was trying to pick me, and my baby, up for the night. Awesome.
All in all, I am slightly disappointed that I was too embarrassed to snap a pic (though in my head it definitely turned into an all out photo shoot where Katheryn and Vince would hold Griffin between them and pose like a family at Disney for the first time - what? Like you wouldn't do that) and that we weren't approached to be extras. But at the end of the day, I decided that's no life for a little boy.
He should never settle for anything less than the lead.
My first trip (of many) to the set on Tuesday yielded much success as Katheryn Erbe walked right past me (across the street anyway) and would have totally noticed us but her attention was drawn to the coffee and bagel in her hands. I mean, the woman needs her strength, I totally understood. So I took a lap with Griffin in the stroller and what do my wandering eyes find but Vince D'Onofrio AND Katheryn in the middle of talking scene talk with some director-looking people. They would have totally noticed me and called us over but they were focusing so intently on their scene, completely understandable.
Trip #2 to the set a few hours later produced another clear shot of Katheryn, this time leaving the shoot for her trailer. It was pretty cold out (ask Griffin, I didn't have time to dress him very warmly considering I needed to maximize our time "on set") so she pretty much ignored everyone as she headed into the trailer, sadly we were part of the "everyone". But some nice looking directorish man smiled at us as we walked past, which may or may not have had something to do with our little gang's appearance. [Griffin in the Bjorn, me on the cell phone looking interesting, and Hunter dragging both of us down the street so he can pee on the 74th tree in 5 minutes.]
The third and final trip I felt comfortable in making, considering there were several police watching over the set and I'm pretty sure they were getting ready to arrest me, was uneventful. No Katheryn. No Vince. And no director-looking people. However, I'm pretty sure a lighting guy was trying to pick me, and my baby, up for the night. Awesome.
All in all, I am slightly disappointed that I was too embarrassed to snap a pic (though in my head it definitely turned into an all out photo shoot where Katheryn and Vince would hold Griffin between them and pose like a family at Disney for the first time - what? Like you wouldn't do that) and that we weren't approached to be extras. But at the end of the day, I decided that's no life for a little boy.
He should never settle for anything less than the lead.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Caution: Meltdown Imminent
After basically surviving Hell and back* today I finally made it all the way downtown for Dooce's book launch and signing only to find they were sold out of the book when I got there, Grant and Griffin in tow. Fanf-ingtastic.
Contents include: up several times during the night with the screaming teething baby (not that this is an unusual occurrence, he hasn't slept through the night more than twice in his 7+ months on this planet), a window replacement for the car that was 3+ hours late, a visit to the pediatricians office AGAIN because I thought Grif had another ear ache (turns out he doesn't and I'm now the "weirdo" mom at the office, walking a tightrope all day to keep the baby from scratching his eyes out from irritability and boredom, wrestling the screaming child into and out of his snowsuit several times to take the dog for his obligatories, making a death defying dash to shower, get dressed, and perform the makeup overhaul, and finally, actually body slamming him to get him into the car at 7:15 PM to try to make it down to Columbia to pick up Grant and then on to Tribeca to the book signing. Where, evil of all evils, I got a really great parking space. Ain't life a bi^$%? Er, I mean, grand?
Contents include: up several times during the night with the screaming teething baby (not that this is an unusual occurrence, he hasn't slept through the night more than twice in his 7+ months on this planet), a window replacement for the car that was 3+ hours late, a visit to the pediatricians office AGAIN because I thought Grif had another ear ache (turns out he doesn't and I'm now the "weirdo" mom at the office, walking a tightrope all day to keep the baby from scratching his eyes out from irritability and boredom, wrestling the screaming child into and out of his snowsuit several times to take the dog for his obligatories, making a death defying dash to shower, get dressed, and perform the makeup overhaul, and finally, actually body slamming him to get him into the car at 7:15 PM to try to make it down to Columbia to pick up Grant and then on to Tribeca to the book signing. Where, evil of all evils, I got a really great parking space. Ain't life a bi^$%? Er, I mean, grand?
Monday, March 23, 2009
And THAT's Why I Love The Bronx
Does it strike anyone else as odd that every single thing that goes wrong with your car is always less than the deductible on your insurance? [Insert aggravation shrug and hand in the air throwing].
Would you like me to extrapolate? I was awakened Saturday morning to my lovely husband posing an odd question to me while my eyelids were still closed in full sleep.
"Did you have anything in the car that could be stolen?"
I'm sorry, hamina hamina what? As my brain snapped to full awake mode way too quickly, I almost thought he was telling me the car was stolen, or the baby was stolen, or the baby stole the car. Time stood still as we sat there staring at each other, both in stupified bewilderment. Finally, my brain regained the use of its neurons and I realized what he meant to say was, "Good morning, Sunshine! I love you! Everything is perfectly okay, and the baby is sleeping snug in his bed. Oh, by the way Dearest Love Noodle, unfortunately some sad soul broke the window of our car last night and stole our Garmin. But do not fret Sweet One, I'll clean up the mess and have the glass fixed in a jiffy. Love you!"
He's just slightly vocabularily challenged and used alternate verbage.
So at day's end the tally is: the window's broke, the Garmin's gone, the insurance won't cover either, and my "guard dog" barks at everything that moves except the things that move to break into my car.
Life - 4, Me - 0
But in the Cage Fight Rematch, that Bitch is going d-o-w-n.
Would you like me to extrapolate? I was awakened Saturday morning to my lovely husband posing an odd question to me while my eyelids were still closed in full sleep.
"Did you have anything in the car that could be stolen?"
I'm sorry, hamina hamina what? As my brain snapped to full awake mode way too quickly, I almost thought he was telling me the car was stolen, or the baby was stolen, or the baby stole the car. Time stood still as we sat there staring at each other, both in stupified bewilderment. Finally, my brain regained the use of its neurons and I realized what he meant to say was, "Good morning, Sunshine! I love you! Everything is perfectly okay, and the baby is sleeping snug in his bed. Oh, by the way Dearest Love Noodle, unfortunately some sad soul broke the window of our car last night and stole our Garmin. But do not fret Sweet One, I'll clean up the mess and have the glass fixed in a jiffy. Love you!"
He's just slightly vocabularily challenged and used alternate verbage.
So at day's end the tally is: the window's broke, the Garmin's gone, the insurance won't cover either, and my "guard dog" barks at everything that moves except the things that move to break into my car.
Life - 4, Me - 0
But in the Cage Fight Rematch, that Bitch is going d-o-w-n.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Top Ten Things I Want To Do In My Lifetime, (This Month)
1. Have many more children - like 4. (Coincidentally, this also accomplishes another goal of mine: Disregarding my husband's wishes).
3. Learn an Asian language.
5. Own a home.
7. Kayak the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.
9. Spoil my grandchildren. (With attention).
*What's on your list?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Today In My Life, Vol 8
It's near 8pm when I realize I have two different socks on. AND, I was excited this morning upon donning them and incorrectly assessing them as a matching pair.
[Sigh.]
[Sigh.]
Friday, March 13, 2009
On Sale Now At Macy's Fragrance Counter
The newest development in my life of late involves that of a minor nuisance we are currently experiencing known as "we're f-ing broke". Several suggestions have been thrown around such as: selling the dog, hacking him up and selling him part for part, and finally, something seriously gross and extremely unfortunate: me going back to work. I know. President Vom-town USA.
Here is the dichotomy, I would love to get out of the house 2.5 days a week and contribute to our non-existent income, truly I would. However, my fear of the nanny from hell situation and my slightly overboard obsession with anyone who sets foot near Griffin are major negatives to the whole situation. I can't even tell you the madness that selecting a nanny involves. And I'm just talking the things I'm saying out loud, not even the catastrophe going on in my brain that I can't even lend words to. Except imagine "Psycho" only to the 10th power. I'm presently interviewing potential candidates and we're 0 for 4, including two "hell no's" and two "you have got to be on crack, hell no's". Alas, it is a work in progress, more to come later on that topic.
So, I know I need to nut up and go to work already like millions and billions of mom's are doing all over the world every day, but as long as I live, breathe, and blog, I will voice my discontent. Malcontent? Whatever, you know what I mean.
Oh, and sidebar, I just got a whif of myself and yes, that's Eau De Curdled Milk/Baby Vomit #5. I am so ready for the workplace.
Here is the dichotomy, I would love to get out of the house 2.5 days a week and contribute to our non-existent income, truly I would. However, my fear of the nanny from hell situation and my slightly overboard obsession with anyone who sets foot near Griffin are major negatives to the whole situation. I can't even tell you the madness that selecting a nanny involves. And I'm just talking the things I'm saying out loud, not even the catastrophe going on in my brain that I can't even lend words to. Except imagine "Psycho" only to the 10th power. I'm presently interviewing potential candidates and we're 0 for 4, including two "hell no's" and two "you have got to be on crack, hell no's". Alas, it is a work in progress, more to come later on that topic.
So, I know I need to nut up and go to work already like millions and billions of mom's are doing all over the world every day, but as long as I live, breathe, and blog, I will voice my discontent. Malcontent? Whatever, you know what I mean.
Oh, and sidebar, I just got a whif of myself and yes, that's Eau De Curdled Milk/Baby Vomit #5. I am so ready for the workplace.
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