Friday, December 14, 2012

hey now now

 
Man. Connecticut. Childrens. I can't even wrap my mind around the grief. And I hate watching everyone jump on their own political bandwagons with RETWEETS and FACEBOOK STATUSES and OTHER FORMS OF ABBREVIATED INCENDIARY COMMENTARY.
 
Maybe I should wait a few days to say anything. But...I'm not gonna. Here are the issues that stand out to me:
 
1. Mental health. Access to care, especially PREVENTATIVE care is ridiculously lacking in this country. We live in a society that scorns acknowledging that not everyone's hormones/emotions/whathaveyou are completely "in whack" and medical insurance companies LOVE IT. They eat. that. shit. up. It's just...ugh. Painful.
 
2. Gun control. Sooooo I don't so much care about gun control. I KNOW. EXTREME. START THROWING ALL THE THINGS AT ME. This has a couple of components:
 
a) If someone desperately wants a gun, they'll get a gun. This seems to me to have the potential to go the way of the War on Drugs if regulation gets nutso. A psychological evaluation to own a gun? You think that's foolproof? Who determine's what's crazy? Doesn't that vary from one psychiatrist to another? The War on Drugs has been proven to be the opposite of effective, and SUPER expensive. Instead of spending a ton of tax dollars on controlling access to guns, maybe ADDRESS MENTAL ILLNESS.
 
b) Gun control laws would be enforced much more strictly on minorities. Most mass shooters are middle class white guys. YEAH. Think about that for a while. Isn't racial profiling SO GREAT?!
 
3. I hate things that discourage validate the choice to keep kids out of the public school system. I admit, I have my reservations about the way schools work in this country. I think they need tons of help. I used to be so upset about it I wanted to just homeschool my kids or send them to private school or find ANY OTHER OPTION than public school. But. You know. I'm all about paying my taxes. And being a part of my community. And that includes my kid(s) participating in the community. And being personally involved in generating the change I want to see. Not acting like MY kid deserves a better education but not OTHER kids. That shit just contributes to the insanely fast growth of income disparity in the United States.
 
Mostly. Just so much sad. I cannot even imagine finding out that my child's school experienced a shooting. Wondering if my baby was still alive. Wondering if my baby was the one doing the shooting. Feeling alternatingly joyous and guilty if my kid survived while his/her classmates were slain. Thinking about all those dreams and futures wiped out. Pitying the poor soul who felt compelled to do this.
 
Dear Baby,
 
If you feel sad most of the time and you don't know why, or want to hurt someone, or feel like you're all alone, I will help you. Please please please let me help you.
 
Love, Mama
 

Monday, December 10, 2012

dear kid

 
You know what's weird about you? Is that you're a whole person. But you weigh just over a pound and are approximately 13.5 inches long. AN ENTIRE PERSON. I feel kicks and I'm so used to it I mostly feel like, "Yeah, OK, I get it - you're out of room in there and I'm sorry, but also maybe calm the eff down." Especially when I lay on my side. You flip your SHIT when I lay on my side on the couch. But I also feel kind of mesmerized, thinking about how you're a person, and I don't want to move because when I change positions you get panic-still. And when I walk it lulls you to sleep. And I'd rather feel your stretches and punches than do anything else.
 
Which UGH is so annoying to even write. Don't let this go to your head - I am already not a fan of how many surfaces you are going to soil with your projectile bodily fluids.
 
I am aware that your movements-in-reaction-to-my-actions are not expressions of personality...in theory. I can't help but label you a smartass when you do continual calisthenics inside me for 10 minutes but stop the SECOND I put your dad's hand on my stomach to feel. Thanks for making me seem like I'm overly reactive and maybe psychotic, d00d.
 
Hope everything's OK in there, since I'm denying every possible method of monitoring. Glucose test? Puh-leeze! Monitor for you during delivery? Hardly. Welcome to your mother, kid - I trust nature and history over your whining. Like, 100% of the time.
 
I just want you to know I'm pretty annoyed that you're making me so frickin' sappy. A year ago the idea of a parasitic tinyhuman hanging off the front of me was pretty revolting. Now I can't even remove myself enough from the you that you are to remember how that feels.
 
Blech. Feelings. Good luck with today's yoga.
 
-Mama
 

Friday, December 7, 2012

Fwd: a more different kind of infamy for this date

 
Today! Is the 4.5 anniversary of the first time The Foliage and I made out! Every year on the actual makeoutaversary I forget to post about it, so the ninth halfaversary will have to do.
 
So OK we'd met, and we wrote back and forth after that. A lot. Like, A LOT a lot. But, even though I visited DC several times, he blew me off. Every time. Until, in May, I told him, "I'm coming down on June 7th. If I don't see you, we are no longer friends." And he believed that shit!
 
So June 7th. Saturday. I'm in Dupont Circle, but the friend who's hosting me isn't home. And it's approximately seven zillion degrees.  And The Foliage and I are texting. And I have to pee. So. Very. Badly. And also - I AM NOT ASHAMED, FAMILY MEMBERS - I was smoking. Because SOMETIMES usually when DRINKING I would have a CIGARETTE and I had one in my purse and I needed to distract myself from the overwhelming urgency o' the urine. And I'd been sitting on this stoop waiting for this guy for, like, an hour! I figured, no way he'll show up NOW.
 
But yeah. He did. Of course he did. Like 2 seconds after I'd lit the damn thing, he walks up. And he sees the cigarette, and his face just FALLS. So I'm all, "Ohhhhhhhkay so he hates cigarettes and he won't believe that I'm not actually a smoker now so the rest of this day is going to be super awkward since I've ruined it." And greet him with, "I really have to go to the bathroom." Because, WHATEVER you don't like me anyway.
 
He bought a bottle of water at Starbucks so I could use their bathroom, and we walked and talked for HOURS, stopping in at a pub for a beer. Where he told me about how he'd been arrested, and described IN GREAT DETAIL the disappointing breasts of a very nice girl he'd dated (for the record: "tennis balls in tube socks") while the bartender shook his head at this total failure of a flirt.
 
We met up with my friends back at the apartment, and while I got ready to go out with the girls, he planted himself on the couch. Because...."Point Break" was on. I kept coming out of the bathroom in my super tight skirt, prancing around to grab his attention. NOPE. Point Break. And it was on CABLE so it was EDITED and had COMMERCIALS.
 
I am beguiling as shit. Apparently.
 
Now I understand his freakish Keanulove, but at the time, it was quite a blow. I've also learned that he does not respond as expected to prancing. So. Life lessons.
 
Once the movie had ended (AND NO SOONER) we left for the Georgetown Waterfront. He and I planted ourselves at a table at the first bar we visited, which was nearly empty, and kind of gross. But he has NO game, so he wasn't going to go to a REAL bar. I thought he wanted the quieter venue so he could talk to me, but no. Wrong. We talked about my List (an extensive set of criteria I had for weeding out unsuitable guys) which segued into talking about our siblings, and being the eldests. A topic that had very high priority on The List.
 
We stayed until the bar closed, and walked back to the apartment, where everyone had passed out. NO cushioned space remained. We laid (lay? laid? I think lay is correct but it sounds way too proper here) down behind the couch, whispering to one another. Mostly he made fun of one of the other girls who'd worn a dress the side of a Band-Aid.
 
It was taking forfucking ever. And my general approach wasf I wanted make out with a guy, I would initiate it. Usually by saying something really subtle like, "Do you wanna make out?" I was almost to that point of annoyed-with-waiting, when he tapped my nose, and leaned in. Why the nose tap? I don't know. No game! That cannnot be understated! Also most of the guys I dated were pretty socially awkward, so this wasn't entirely new to me.
 
After a bit, he started to move his hands to my waist, but I wouldn't let him reach underneath my shirt. He took this for my sense of propriety or whatever, and backed RIGHT off, not wanting to make me uncomfortable.
 
But OMG here's the thing: I had no problem with it. I stopped him because I had a goddamned RASH on my STOMACH. It had mysteriously appeared, like, a week before and was MISERABLY itchy. And by that point was really scaly and dried up.
 
So basically my futurehusband was duped into thinking I was some kind of virtuous because of my stomach rash. Thanks, really sensitive skin and lavender scented laundry detergent!
 
Also when we made our wedding invitations, we gave Mom a list of significant events, and she included this one as "first kiss." HA! Welcome to the truth, world.
 

Thursday, December 6, 2012

not a place called cocomo

 
We went to The Keys last week! The Foliage and I went down with my parents, and we stayed in a really great house right on a canal in Key Colony (about halfway between mainland and Key West). Here are some thoughts:
 
-Flying on Black Friday is BLISS. We took 2 flights to get down there, neither of which was even close to full.
 
-Renting a car on Black Friday is LESS BLISSFUL. As in THERE ARE NONE AVAILABLE. So...reserve that ish. Otherwise they'll try to give you a Yaris and tell you your 6'3" dad will toooootally fit. (Pro-tip: No he won't. Argue and get an SUV for the same rate instead.)
 
-My parents are kind of dicks. EXAMPLES:
 
a. Went to get ice cream one night. There was a family there with several small kids, who were really cute and not very noisy. One of the boys repeatedly knocked the top scoop off of his cone. One of these times, his parents didn't notice, but WE did, and Dad started making "OH YOU DONE FUCKED UP" faces at the kid. Because of COURSE. I reminded him that he'd emotionally wounded all the kids for which that was legally permissable. So far, no lawsuits have been filed, but I wouldn't say he's out of the woods yet.
 
b. Earlier that day, Dad rented kayaks. Yay, boats! You cannot possibly understand my dad's boatthusiasm. He was PUMPED. Mom, less so. The two of them were in one, The Foliage and I were in another. We'd decided to head out from the house to a nearby restaurant for lunch. About 100 yards from the restaurant's dock, we're a little bit racing to see who can get there first. And then, suddenly, like a gigantic banana out of hell, my parents are right next to us. And then...they are capsized. OH! THE PANIC! THE DISMAY! I was so sure I'd accidentally done something with my oar and it was all my fault and I ruined everything. But nay! Turns out Mom thought it would be SUPER FUNNY to play bumper boats. Spoiler: It was super funny. To us. Whose stuff stayed out of the water. And also to all the people eating on the patio of the restaurant who watched this happen. Did we continue on and eat lunch with my drenched parents? HELL YEAH WE DID.
 
-Nothing makes you feel cooler than "parking" 2 kayaks between crazyexpensive fancy boats. With, like, anchors. And then struggling in and out of those kayaks while people calmly watch from their comfortable, dry dining tables.
 
-Even though there is one lane to drive in, and the speed limit inexplicably changes to UNGODLY LOW all the time, you should probably still just drive the speed limit. I know. It sucks. It's worth it. I promise.
 
-Key. Lime. Everything. You should be a fan before you head down there. And if you're pregnant, try not to be too sad about all the margaritas you're not drinking. (OR pssssst just order drinks with less booze in them because the only thing that can validate drinking syrupy drink mix is drinking syrupy drink mix plus alcohol)
 
-"Seven Psychopaths" is hilarious! And sometime plays put on by community theatre offer you NO closure.
 
-Don't go to any restaurants thinking options other than "fried fish" are going to be available. That fried fish is good. But it's ALL they got.
 
-I don't suck at golf! If I actually tried/practiced, I'd probably be pretty good. I might start trying. But the only time golfing really comes up is during the Big Annual Vacation, and it's something The Guys do and I'd just be an extra wheel, because it's a weird heteronormative dynamic thing. But maybe I'll wedge myself in there anyway, because I like making shit awkward. OOH! Also! Next summer I'll have an infant! I'll totally take the infant golfing. What could make my male family members happier than me barging in on their golf outing AND bringing a crying baby along?! Pretty much nothing that comes to my mind.
 
-The Keys are really nice! Once. I think we did pretty much everything we would've wanted to do. Minus the shipwreck museum, but once we got there it seemed pretty...intense.