Friday, February 23, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
The First Playdate
Little J has a playdate tomorrow with a friend from school. I am not panicking right now because:
One) After-dinner drinks
Two) I don't have to be included in the playdate. Friend's mom asked if she could take the girls to the movies, and since I forgot to ask if could come too, I guess I'll sit this one out. Darn.
Three) The woman actually seems like someone I could be friends with. She told me that when I drop Little J off, I could come a little early...long pause...and I said, "and for why?". She said, "Well, to check things out and...uh..." I finished her sentence "and make sure you guys are okay people?"
She said, "Yeah, I'll hide all the weird stuff before you get here!"
One) After-dinner drinks
Two) I don't have to be included in the playdate. Friend's mom asked if she could take the girls to the movies, and since I forgot to ask if could come too, I guess I'll sit this one out. Darn.
Three) The woman actually seems like someone I could be friends with. She told me that when I drop Little J off, I could come a little early...long pause...and I said, "and for why?". She said, "Well, to check things out and...uh..." I finished her sentence "and make sure you guys are okay people?"
She said, "Yeah, I'll hide all the weird stuff before you get here!"
By Golly, She Did It
I made spaghetti tonight for dinner. No one complained. There was no gagging or "oops my bowl overturned onto the floor and no thanks I don't need more".
Fiance even told me it was tasty.
Let us commemorate this day, shall we? Brokemom cooked dinner and everyone ate it. Oh dear, wouldn't it suck if we all got food poisoning later? But that won't happen. Life wouldn't be so cruel...
Fiance even told me it was tasty.
Let us commemorate this day, shall we? Brokemom cooked dinner and everyone ate it. Oh dear, wouldn't it suck if we all got food poisoning later? But that won't happen. Life wouldn't be so cruel...
Monday, February 12, 2007
Things I Thought Worthy of Snapping
Look, a homeless man sleeping on the street! It's 1:00 pm! Gee he must be tired!
I was on Rodeo Drive, baby!
Kickass Hard Rock Cafe in Hollywood.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Vacation
Silence hung like a shroud above them. The motel room, cheapened by the promise of 'nonsmoking', was chilled with the ghost of a heater and a wide 3story high corner view of Ventura. The passing vehicles from the nearby freeway were the only sounds.
The boy was not coming she thought. Her opinion of the boy had changed, warped slightly by the silent treatment so suddenly imposed; darkening the horizon like the ugly gray clouds gathering in the evening sky. This vacation, so awaited, such trials and tributes about the whole affair! ..only to sit in a chilly inpersonal motel room and be confronted in each passing moment, with every passing breath - but the boy was not coming.
She looks at the man sitting by the window overlooking a main road and a gas-station. He sits and sighs and watches. She knows this is not going to get any better. An earlier flight will only inconvenience them of sleep and a $200 ticket-change fee. Yet the thought of watching a small part of the man's soul die, here, in this city of noise and confusion and deception was not unlike watching a small animal be tortured and being unable to help. She kept thinking about the heater and how if it were warmer in here things wouldn't seem so macrabe.
The man sang a line of no-tune words that he hates this place. He hates this place.
She thinks longingly of the nearby beach and the mall, but dismisses them almost guiltily. The man has been strong until now, fueled by the thought of seeing the boy. With each passing figure, each car, the man waited maybe not even hoping any longer. In suspended animation because to lose all hope at this moment will be to believe absolutely that the boy was not coming.
She awakens in the dark to the man's sobbing. She can almost feel the thick heat, the salty tears on her own cheeks and she falls asleep listening to tear-choked sorrow.
What a horrible boy she now thinks. The boy did not come.
The boy was not coming she thought. Her opinion of the boy had changed, warped slightly by the silent treatment so suddenly imposed; darkening the horizon like the ugly gray clouds gathering in the evening sky. This vacation, so awaited, such trials and tributes about the whole affair! ..only to sit in a chilly inpersonal motel room and be confronted in each passing moment, with every passing breath - but the boy was not coming.
She looks at the man sitting by the window overlooking a main road and a gas-station. He sits and sighs and watches. She knows this is not going to get any better. An earlier flight will only inconvenience them of sleep and a $200 ticket-change fee. Yet the thought of watching a small part of the man's soul die, here, in this city of noise and confusion and deception was not unlike watching a small animal be tortured and being unable to help. She kept thinking about the heater and how if it were warmer in here things wouldn't seem so macrabe.
The man sang a line of no-tune words that he hates this place. He hates this place.
She thinks longingly of the nearby beach and the mall, but dismisses them almost guiltily. The man has been strong until now, fueled by the thought of seeing the boy. With each passing figure, each car, the man waited maybe not even hoping any longer. In suspended animation because to lose all hope at this moment will be to believe absolutely that the boy was not coming.
She awakens in the dark to the man's sobbing. She can almost feel the thick heat, the salty tears on her own cheeks and she falls asleep listening to tear-choked sorrow.
What a horrible boy she now thinks. The boy did not come.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Playdate Shmaydate
Have I mentioned that I'm kinda' antisocial? No? I'm the mom who, when attending a birthday party for my child's classmate, would rather go hide in a corner and read a book. Or rifle through my purse. Or stare at my hands. Anything rather than actually try to make small talk with another parent. Because I'm not good at small talk. I say things that I myself find totally and completely amusing, but in retrospect, they are only amusing to me. Or people who know me really well. Which leads me to my current dilemma...
A mom of one of Little J's classmates stopped me while we were picking up our kids after school. She proceeded to tell me that her daughter "talks about Little J all the time", and that "we should get them together for a playdate." I smiled, made the appropriate noises, and exchanged numbers. And felt like a girl being asked out on a first date. My palms were sweaty, my heart raced, and I felt light-headed.
What in the hell am I supposed to do on a playdate? The kids play, yeah, but that means I have to talk to her mom. I'll start blathering on about something I find witty, or make a "witty" comment, and from then it's all downhill because I can't shut my fucking mouth! The playdate will end in uncomforatble silence with fake promises of, "Oh, we'll have to do this again soon!", but we won't mean it. We'll go our seperate ways and Other Mom will subtly hint to her daughter about another little girl in her class who looks like a good friend. The next time we bump into each other picking up the children, there'll be embarrassed smiles and talk about how busy we've been, and gosh isn't the weather nice today.
I am not a Playdate Mom, I'm the Drop My Kid Off and Sit In the Car Mom.
A mom of one of Little J's classmates stopped me while we were picking up our kids after school. She proceeded to tell me that her daughter "talks about Little J all the time", and that "we should get them together for a playdate." I smiled, made the appropriate noises, and exchanged numbers. And felt like a girl being asked out on a first date. My palms were sweaty, my heart raced, and I felt light-headed.
What in the hell am I supposed to do on a playdate? The kids play, yeah, but that means I have to talk to her mom. I'll start blathering on about something I find witty, or make a "witty" comment, and from then it's all downhill because I can't shut my fucking mouth! The playdate will end in uncomforatble silence with fake promises of, "Oh, we'll have to do this again soon!", but we won't mean it. We'll go our seperate ways and Other Mom will subtly hint to her daughter about another little girl in her class who looks like a good friend. The next time we bump into each other picking up the children, there'll be embarrassed smiles and talk about how busy we've been, and gosh isn't the weather nice today.
I am not a Playdate Mom, I'm the Drop My Kid Off and Sit In the Car Mom.
...to this... Thursday, February 01, 2007
Green Is The Way To Go
So, I am getting serious about this whole exercise thing. I need to be healthier, and sitting on my ass just isn't cutting it anymore. So I went shopping.
No wait, let me finish! I didn't go shopping as an exercise plan, I went shopping to help me with my goal.
Here's what I bought:
New walking/running shoes
Sporty new tanktop to match shoes (but I paid full price which pisses me off)
ipod which matches said shoes and tank and is engraved with my name
I am ready to go. Almost. The ipod has been shipped, and I have explained ten times to Fiance why Fiance needs to answer the door when someone knocks, as it will be the FedEx person. In anticipation of ipod, I wore shoes and tank and went on a bike ride this afternoon. See what a motivator new exercise clothes can be? Because I've been eating better lately, I've also lost 9 lbs so far...I can't see the difference, but the scale can.
Sometimes the image of my ipod will flash through my brain, and I get so excited I spin around and chant "ipod ipod ipod!" And then I get a little worried, because the ipod is only 1.6 inches big, and I am constantly losing my cellphone, which is, by comparison, much larger.
No wait, let me finish! I didn't go shopping as an exercise plan, I went shopping to help me with my goal.
Here's what I bought:
New walking/running shoes
Sporty new tanktop to match shoes (but I paid full price which pisses me off)
ipod which matches said shoes and tank and is engraved with my name
I am ready to go. Almost. The ipod has been shipped, and I have explained ten times to Fiance why Fiance needs to answer the door when someone knocks, as it will be the FedEx person. In anticipation of ipod, I wore shoes and tank and went on a bike ride this afternoon. See what a motivator new exercise clothes can be? Because I've been eating better lately, I've also lost 9 lbs so far...I can't see the difference, but the scale can.
Sometimes the image of my ipod will flash through my brain, and I get so excited I spin around and chant "ipod ipod ipod!" And then I get a little worried, because the ipod is only 1.6 inches big, and I am constantly losing my cellphone, which is, by comparison, much larger.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
