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Poetry and snark blogger who also has a creative side (who knew?)

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Bad Mommy Moment

Tonight after dinner I noticed that there was a slice of green pepper left on the kitchen table. Any normal person would pick it up and put it in the garbage. I picked it up and flung it at my 14 year-old daughter. When she asked, "What was that?!" I answered, "assault with a pepper!" and broke out laughing. Needless to say, she was not amused at my pun. What kind of mother flings vegetables at her daughter just to be able to make a play on words? At least she'll have something interesting to tell her therapist some day!

Friday, June 25, 2010

Dirty Thoughts

Floors swept? Check. Sheets washed? Check. Laundry done? Check. Bathrooms clean? Check. Upstairs, downstairs, AND basement vacuumed? Check. Fridge cleaned out? Check. Recycling done? Check. Sink clean? Check. Dishes clean? Check. Miscellaneous detritus of life removed from counters, coffee tables, end tables, and floors? Almost....

Guess who's going on vacation soon? Guess who's REALLY going to need one after this frantic flurry of fanatical cleaning? A major pet peeve of mine is coming home from a trip to a dirty, disorganized house. It's depressing and makes me want to cry. So, I go all OCD before trips making sure EVERYTHING is clean and tidy. It's so clean by the time departure rolls around that I hate to leave! My house is NEVER as clean as it is before trips, and I will be the first to admit that I may drive my family a tad crazy to get it that way. Oh well, I'm the Mom. Want dinner? Deal with my neuroses!http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-is-why-ill-never-be-adult.html

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Undie Dog!

My dog is a pervert. Last week I had to buy 3 new pairs of undies because my poodle chewed several pairs of mine to shreds! At first I thought that our washer had gone on the fritz and was ripping up our clothes but kept wondering why only my unmentionables kept getting destroyed. Then I realized the horrifying truth; our dog has a thing for my undies. YUCK. Several telltale clues plus my Encyclopedia Brownish powers of deduction led to this unnerving discovery. First, there was a pair of undies on the floor that I had taken off the night before (I know, I should've put them in the hamper. I'm a slob.) When I put them back on the following morning to quickly walk my daughter to the bus stop for school, they were wet. Hmmm...I don't have a bladder control issue. They were dry the previous night. Very suspicious..... Second, there were several instances when my undies popped up in various odd places around the house-in the hallway, in the bathroom, on my floor, when I knew that I had put them in the hamper. Furthermore, some of these undies were shredded! Undies don't typically locomote of their own accord. Very suspicious.... Lastly, as my husband and I were in bed the other evening, our dog proceeded to jump off the bed (yes, he sleeps with us, and I don't want to hear anything about it!) and run to our closet where we keep the hamper. We looked over at him, and he had his nose buried in the hamper. Soon enough had pulled out....a pair of my undies!!! Well, I cracked the case right then and there! I couldn't have trained him to perform this feat if I had spent 2 years working on it, but it seems that he has learned to find my underwear from a pile of clothes, pull it out, slobber all over it, and then chew it to pieces. Maybe I could get him on "Amazing Pet Tricks." BAD DOG!!!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Please Join Me in Honoring....Uh, What's Your Name?

Well, it's school awards assembly time! That time of year when parents are unjustly punished for bearing and rearing intelligent offspring. Ah, the feel of hard, metal folding chairs beneath my ever aging bones, the closeness of fellow parents as we're crammed into the undersized gymnasium like wads of stuffing into the cavity of a turkey, the warmth of the stagnant air as the one, overworked rotary fan attempts to cool a room full of sweaty, squirmy adolescents. And, of course, that one grandparent who invariably sits near me and drones on and on and on and on throughout the entire assembly with facts, stories, jokes, comments, and other fascinating anecdotes I DON'T CARE ABOUT! It's like having a mosquito buzzing nonstop in your ear, and you just want to stick a pencil into your brain to kill it and end the noise! But I digress. Awards. It is nice to see the kids who actually do what they are supposed to do in school acknowledged for once. Usually, it's the kids who are wreaking havoc who get the attention. So, awards are good. Acknowledgment is good. Recognition is good. You know what else is good? Not butchering the name of the kid that's getting the award! There's something phony and hypocritical about blathering on about how special someone is and how proud you are to honor him or her and then mispronouncing the kid's name. This happened many times throughout the middle school awards ceremony. How hard would it have been to look over the list of winners and learn how to pronounce the names correctly? We're not talking about some multicultural mecca school with lots of foreign names here; it's Southern Maryland for goodness sakes! Note to school administators: DO YOUR HOMEWORK!!!

Monday, June 14, 2010

GUEST BLOGGER!!! ALLISON!!!

Well, the 64th Annual Tonys were on recently, and I, for one, was thoroughly entertained. However, I'd like to focus on one specific performance that left me breathless (I laughed a little too hard.) Unfortunately, it wasn't a comedy; it was Catherine Zeta-Jones' performance of "Send In the Clowns."

She was performing this song from her revival of "A Little Night Music." The show opened to terrible reviews, yet somehow managed to get nominated for best revival. (?) Anyway, after this show, I see why it bombed.

First of all, did anyone else think she was having neck spasms? During the entire song, she was flinging her head all over the place. You have to wonder, with things like that, were those stage directions, or did she make it up? I mean, really. What director would come up with something like that? And what would it say? "Twitch head spastically as if you're a dog watching a fly or a laser pointer?"

Maybe the fly just flew into her head. That's why she was looking all over the place like a maniac. She heard a buzzing and couldn't tell where it was coming from. "It's over there! No, it's there now! Where is it, darn it!?" Then, when it was at the center of her head, and she felt it right behind her nose, that's when we got:


Now, I would critique her singing, but I was laughing and commenting the entire time and didn't hear it. From what I got out of it, the only word you could understand was "clown," and the performance pretty much sucked.

Stick with "Chicago", honey.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

That's Some Heavy Baggage, Dr. Rekers!

When I was interning for my psychology doctorate at the University of SC, I met and worked with many faculty. There was one faculty member who stood out to me back then as a hypocritical, phony, and dangerous researcher and clinician. His name was Dr. George Rekers. Dr. Rekers specialized in gender identity issues, sexual issues, and homosexuality, specifically, homosexuality reversal. His organization, the National Association for Research and Therapy of Homosexuality or NARTH, aimed to prevent homosexuality and turn gay people straight. Did I mention he was a Southern Baptist minister too? He also cofounded, with James Dobson, the Family Research Council, a Christian lobbying organization. Seems like a bit of a conflict of interest for someone who, as a scientific researcher, is supposed to maintain objectivity, but hey, I was just a grad student, what did I know? The ironic thing about Dr. Rekers was that anyone with even a rudimentary gaydar would immediately sense that Dr. George was himself quite gay. He, of course, professed his heterosexuality and masculinity quite loudly and often, and even wrote books about raising manly boys. He was married and had kids. He was obviously in the closet. I don't know if he was in denial, was delusional, or was just outright lying, but this man had no business mucking about with other people's sexual issues and gender identity problems. Turning confused gay boys over to Dr. George was akin to leaving the fox in charge of the henhouse...

Well....it's a couple of decades later, and the chickens have come home to roost! Guess what anti-gay activist minister and researcher was recently caught in a Miami airport returning from a 10 day European vacation with a gay male prostitute from Rentboy.com? Dr. George Rekers!!! Of course, Dr. George denies that Lucien, the aforementioned "rentboy" was with him for sex. Oh no! Dr. Rekers had recently injured his back, and his doctor advised him not to life anything heavy, so rentboy was on the trip to "carry my luggage." That makes perfect sense! If you take a look at the Rentboy.com website, you can immediately see where Dr. Rekers would confuse it with a valet service. After all, it shows lots of young men with bulging muscles, no shirts, and advertises for "professional services." Who wouldn't think they were hiring someone to lift baggage? And with all of Dr. George's baggage, I'm sure he needed a REAL hunk! When Dr. George discovered, halfway through his European vacation, rentboy's true vocation, I'm sure he was appalled! But, being the good Christian minister that he is, he looked to his role model, Jesus. "Like Jesus Christ, I deliberately spend time with sinners with the loving goal to try to help them." Now, I get it; he's converting homosexuals one at a time by hiring them as luggage handlers! It's the ministry of bag grabbing! Careful with the handle, boys! Better build yourself a bigger closet, Dr. George. You're going to have a lot of baggage to keep all those rentboy sinners busy!

Friday, June 4, 2010

And They're Off!

Hey! My lil' bro just got hitched on Wed. at Dover Downs Raceway! Very unusual and cool wedding. He proposed to his girlfriend at the starting gate and had the wedding ceremony at Victory Lane. The guests got to ride around the track in a truck and experience the banking and stops of a raceway (though not at race speeds!) It was a blast, especially since the raceway was closed, so besides the wedding party, there were no rowdy crowds, no noisy cars, no exhaust fumes. Congrats Rob and Natalie (and Josh, Samantha, Ryan, and Shawn). Here's a link to the pix.