I have a few thoughts that have been bouncing around lately, none of which warrants its own post, so I am collecting them here.
The Tribe Has Spoken?
My husband works for an apparel company that specializes in outdoorsy/casual stuff - mostly sporty footwear and mens' clothing. He has turned into quite the style maven as a result (which is a little problematic, what with his peacocking about in his new duds while I continue to sport my style deficiencies on my back). Anyhoo, he is very taken by two new shirts that he just bought that look strikingly like those worn by Jeff Probst. Should I be worried? He better not be plotting to vote me off any damn island, is all I can say. If he does, I'm sticking him with the kids.
And the Award for Last Person to Get With Pop Culture Goes To ... ME!
I saw Brokeback Mountain (finally) last week, even though I've been saying "Ah wish Ah knew how to quit yew" in a horrendous imitation of a cowboy twang for months now. For those of you rolling your eyes in disbelief, gimme a break, the movie came out when we were in the middle of a babysitting dry spell, and we were busy Netflixing The Shield, and things just kinda got away from me. On the other hand, I fully intend to see Talladega Nights as soon after its release Friday as I can get me to the the-ayter. I find it is good practice to see at least one stupid-humor major movie release per summer so that when school starts again, I can casually drop a catch phrase from said stupid movie into my conversations with the kids and gain some traction with at least a few of the doofy boys in the class right away.
Speaking of Not Being Trendy
Our cars were tossed (for the second time in six weeks) and all our CDs taken last weekend. This is especially irritating given that I know for a fact that whoever took our CDs will probably hate every one of our CDs (Aimee Mann? Steve Earle? Martin Sexton? Not exactly Top of the Pops material.) and so they will wind up residing in a nearby ditch, doing nobody any good. We got lazy about locking up, admittedly, but dang!
I saw a comment somewhere by a mother of teenagers lamenting the fact that so many mommyblogs are written by mothers of young children, and she felt a little lonely out there in the blogosphere. I have to admit, I wonder if this blog will survive to my childrens' adolescence. I mean, it's bad enough just having a mother when you're twelve, how much WORSE must it be to have a mother who writes about her thoughts, feelings, and experiences, and then puts it on the web where anyone can see it??? Thinking back, if my mother had kept a blog when I was an adolescent, there are many topics of discussion I would rather she not cover, including:
- my looks
- my wardrobe
- my physical, social, and mental development
- my school performance
- my friends
- my activities
- my social standing
- my habits, attitudes, and preferences
- my relationship with my sibling
- pretty much anything to do with me
If this happens, I hope I am not so much older than my kid that I can't remember what it's like to feel abjectly humiliated, and I will react with insight and compassion. I will then email all my friends with my stories instead of posting them on the blog. Or maybe I will tell her to get her own blog, which she can call "My Mother Sux" or something of that ilk. Or maybe I will never tell her I write about her in my blog.
Yeah? So? What's It to You?
We've been having a heat wave ... a tropical heat wave. Last week the temperatures hovered in the high 80's to low 90's with humidity of about a zillion percent. Even at night the temperature only dropped to the 70's. And I discovered that while most people in this part of the world aren't very enthusiastic about such weather, they usually defer to me (or any other woman clearly lumbering along for two). "Oh!" they say, sympathetically, "I know I think it's hot, but it must be just awful for you." So not only am I allowed to be a horribly antisocial grouch when it's hot out, I'm showered with sympathy to boot! This rocks!
No Progress on the Name Front
We still don't have a name for Baby Girl #2. In fact, we are so desperate, we have taken to asking India, "So India - what's your baby sister's name?" Her response: "Baby." I guess expecting any kind of help from the girl who owns three dolls named "Baby," a stuffed dog named "Puppy," and a stuffed cat named "Kitty" is a bit of a stretch. We are still taking suggestions.