In Which I Totally Forgive My Mother

Mom. Remember that time I said that you only let me make that Arthur Kady tee shirt because you were trying to get back at me for being a total shit? It was here. I said it here. Yea. Sorry about that. I GET IT NOW.

Tuesday was Valentine's Day. I'm not one of those haters who gets all hatey (it's a word now) about Valentine's Day. Sure, you don't NEED a day to tell someone that you love them. But still. We have a day for Mothers and Fathers and Grandparents and Secretaries (I think that's Administrative Assistant's Day now. SECRETARY ISN'T A BAD WORD, PEOPLE). So I'm okay with having a day that's all about love. I think it's rather nice. My husband sends me flowers, I make him a childish card (that picture down there you see? That is this year's Valentine. Last year was Sirius Black. Geeks do Valentines a little different.) Valentine's Day is sweet, is what I'm saying. And Johnny wanted in on that racket this year.

The Daleks know what's up

Monday night we saw a giant $50.00 teddy bear holding a heart that said "I Love You" and Johnny decided he knew just the girl for that. I did the right thing. I pointed out that "I Love You" was a bold statement for a girl who you are not dating and may not interact with on a daily basis. I assumed his Valentine was another fourth grade girl, so I talked him into a chocolate rose by telling him "A teddy bear is a gift from a boy. A rose? That's a gift that a man gives you." He was sold. After bartering with a half hour of video games and a cup of hot chocolate, he finally revealed his Valentine's identity. Oh fuck, y'all. It was the middle school girl down the street.

We talked about the delivery at length. He revealed that he'd like to be her secret admirer. We talked about ways he could ring her bell and the quickest route back to our house so he wouldn't be seen. We talked about all of this. And he made up his own mind not to listen to me AT ALL. Tuesday night, he put his coat on and told us he was going to go ring her doorbell and hand the rose to her. My ten year old son. Off to have his heart broken by a 13 year old girl. I was able to slow him down by pointing out that he wasn't sure which house was hers (we pretty much only ever see her on her bike). So he went and rang the bell of the high school girl next door and asked her to walk him down to his Valentine's house. Todd and I stood there staring at each other, not sure what to do. Finally:

Mel: Oh god. This is how my mom felt during that whole Arthur Kady thing. You have to go after him.

Todd: This is EXACTLY what that is like. And YOU are going after him.

Mel: Oh fuck.

So off I ran down the street. Except he's ten and had a guide. I'm decidedly not ten, and I wear heels. I was too late. She was already at the door when I got there. There was nothing I could do but stand just out of sight and listen.

Johnny: This is for your Happy Valentine's Day.

13 year old girl: Thank you. (Johnny told me later that she high fived him when she said thank you. This girl has permission to marry my son).

Johnny: Can I come in your house?

And this is when I ran around the side of the house yelling that it was time for dinner. I'm pretty sure he only wanted to go in to see her dog. But you just can't ever be too sure. Playas gonna play.

P.S. I found the image for my super rad homemade Valentine's Day card here. There's also a Dalek with bunny ears over there. I need to become friends with this person.

Pin It

That Kid is Up To Something

Conversation with Johnny just now.

Mel: Hey. I'm going to go make a phone call in the other room. Can you keep an eye on Mikey for a minute?

Johnny: Sure thing.

Mel: How'd I get so lucky? You're such a good kid.

Johnny: How'd I get so lucky to have such a great mom?

Mel: I don't know what you're up to, but I like it.

Johnny: And such a beautiful mom, too.

Mel: Oh man. You're laying it on thick today, buddy.

Johnny: Laying it on what?

Mel: Nothing. I'm buying you car. You can drive it now. Laws be damned.

Johnny: No. That's okay. I don't want you to get arrested.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Johnny's a good kid. He's also a kid with ADHD. Exceptionally poor impulse control. The whole lot. He is behaving PERFECTLY today. I know I probably shouldn't question it. But wtf?

A few weeks ago I read an article about a 9 year old who stabbed like three people over a capri sun. I was discussing it with a friend, and her first response was "What is wrong with that kid's parents?" I know poor parenting can be blamed for a lot. But I also know that you can be a really good parent and your kid still won't be perfect. Your kid might, for example, empty an entire bottle of baby powder all over your bedroom because it looks like snow. Or he might hide all of the toilet paper in the house. Or he might write a note at school to a friend that says "you are a bucket of shit" because he finds curse words HILARIOUS and because the friend originally wrote "You are a fucking asshole" in THEIR note. And maybe they just wanted to try cursing because that's what kids DO. And it probably doesn't mean they're awful or you're awful or they're going to stab someone.

But what are the warning signs for a stabby kid? See, this is where I get worried. I don't know what behaviors mean "this kid might stab someone over a juice box" because I never thought I had to be on the look out for that kind of thing. And maybe the parents of the stabby kid were doing a really good job and just never thought to tell their kid that there were other options for getting the capri sun that you want. You know, other than stabbing. Maybe we all need to tell our kids not to stab people over juice boxes because maybe they are all predisposed to stabbing and the only kids who DON'T do it are the ones who are explicitly told not to. What if stabbing is the new Pokemon?

Mel: Johnny. Don't stab anyone, okay?

Johnny: What? Why?

Mel: For any reason. Just don't do it.

Johnny: Why would I stab someone? Did you just read that on the Internet?

Mel: I don't know. Just don't do it. There are better ways to resolve conflicts.

Johnny: Okay.

Crisis averted.

One Conversation. Two Ways.

I'm a slutty texter. If you don't respond to me immediately, I will forward my original message to someone else. Occasionally, I end up having the same conversation with two different people, and with two very different outcomes.

Mel: I just made the very important decision to start wearing false eyelashes.

Mel, 2 hours later: Your lack of response forces me to forward this very important message which I brought to you first to someone else so I can continue discussing this life altering decision. I hope you're happy with yourself.

Nicole: Wait wait wait.

Mel: You abandoned me in my time of miniscule need. You're a monster.

Nicole: I was on the phone with Jim. He lost his keys at work.

Mel: I see where your priorities are.

Nicole: I think fake lashes are fucking glam. Go for it.

CONVERSATION #2

Mel: I just made the very important decision to start wearing false eyelashes.

Tasha: Individual lashes or full?

Mel: Individual. I'm not a tranny. Just an aging mom convinced that she can recapture her youthful looks with glue.

Tasha: A chick I work with used Latisse and the results are amazing. Lashes=youth?

Mel: But Latisse could turn my blue eyes brown. And that's not what that song's about.

Tasha: Does your salon apply them? At mine they apply them and it lasts like 3 months. Like a weave for your lashes.

Mel: I'm going to try and apply them myself. The Today Show said I can. Did I mention that this was The Today Show's idea?

Mel: I'm sure they will look professionally done. It sounds like something I'm qualified to do.

Mel: I'll watch a bunch of YouTube tutorials first. It'll be fine.

Mel: I'm going to blind myself.

Tasha: You're going to glue your finger to your eyelid and then go blind. And the false lash is going to be glued to the tip of your nose. And no one is ever going to tell you about the falsies on your nose and you won't know either because you'll be blind. You'll be the girl with the hairy nose.

Mel: Stop being so jealous of how awesome my false eyelashes are going to be. You're really embarrassing yourself.

So this morning I tried applying false eyelashes. You win this round, Tasha.

I Just Wrote it on the Internet. Now it's a Fact.

The way I see it, there are two distinct problems with the Internet:

1) You always end up somewhere you didn't expect. Always. You sit down thinking "I want to learn more about badgers!" and 45 minutes later you are reading seriously in depth descriptions of exorcisms. Congratulations! You're an expert on exorcisms now. And you're never sleeping again. I'm not even just using two random examples to make my point. THIS HAPPENED TO ME. After awhile, your brain starts working this way. You're thinking about kittens and before you know it, you're pondering the Egyptian Book of the Dead. Don't bother trying to figure out how you got there. Your brain doesn't have search history.

2) You start taking everything you've read on the internet to be the gospel truth. The sheer number of things that I have put on my face because the internet told me to is ASTOUNDING. Some of them have actually been really great. Oil cleansing? OMG BEST THING EVER. (read about it here and here, if you want to change your life.) Orange juice and baking soda? DON'T DO IT. I mean. That's a base and an acid. I think. I could google it, but I'd just believe whatever the first result tells me. But pretty much, you put it on your face and your face is then Pompeii.

The plus side of believing everything you read on the internet is that you can pretty much win any argument if you're the only one with access to the internet at the time. Even if it's an argument you started because your brain went through a weird black hole of thinking and you ended up somewhere downright weird. Behold.

Mel's Brain: That sign said "Women's Correctional Facility." I think it's weird that they call them correctional facilities. I don't think we do enough to correct things in jails. I mean, they have television and gyms and stuff. And too much free time. And nobody is getting rehabilitated by making license plates. You're not going to leave prison and put "making license plates" on your resume and suddenly be this really desirable job candidate. You're still sort of effed in the job market. Prison needs to be more disciplined. Like stop letting prisoners hang out and tattoo one another's lips and stuff. I bet less lip tattooing would lead to less gangs in prison. I bet there are like no gangs in Chinese prisons. They're just all around disciplined. The Olympics opening ceremonies? I bet they make them practice drumming like that in Chinese prisons for 20 hours a day. And then they get out of prison and they can put "badass drummer" on their resume. And I see ads on Craig's List for drummers ALL THE TIME, so you really have a shot when you get out of Chinese prison. And also, they exercise at the office and stuff together there. That's the kind of exercise we should have in prisons here. Don't give them awesome gyms so they can get strong enough to kill each other. Everyone line up and do jumping jacks. It's impossible to look threatening doing jumping jacks. They probably have NO gangs in Chinese prisons. We need to be more like China.

Mel(out loud): You know. I bet there is no gang violence in Chinese prisons.

Todd: Oh Jesus Christ. WHY?

Mel: Because those people are disciplined. They, like, exercise in big groups before work every day. There's no way they don't have something similar happening in their prison system.

Todd: That's Japan. In Japan they exercise in big groups before work.

Mel: Fine. I bet there is no gang violence in Japanese prisons.

Todd: You would be wrong. Yakuza. Triads. Japanese gangs are no joke.

Mel: Fine. I was right the first time, then. There is no gang violence in Chinese prisons.

Todd: I really don't think you're right about this. There is absolutely gang violence in China. But feel free to google it.

Mel: I WILL.

So I googled for a solid 60 seconds, found this blog with a single sentence to validate my point, and fucking WON the argument. And the internet, I think.

Mel: So, it says right here that "Every major American city has well-established and vicious Chinese street gangs. They simply lack a significant counterpart in their home country." I TOLD YOU.

Todd: What are you reading? Are you just reading some blog? You're going to need to quote a valid source. Who wrote this?

Mel: AN EXPERT ON GANGS. Stop hating when I'm right.

P.S. 20 minutes later at a gas station, the attendant was being awful to us. I mean really awful. Like muttering under his breath and actually mocking Todd when he spoke. I DON'T KNOW WHY. It was very confusing. But the attendant was Japanese. So when Todd opened his mouth to say something back to him, I whispered very quietly "NO. YAKUZA BOSS." Because with an extra 20 minutes of googling, I was an expert, too. And I know a Yakuza boss when I see one.

Pin It
Tweet

This Post is For My Mother In Law

If you've been here before, you might remember this post where I told the tale of the awful gift that I bought for my friend, Brittany. This post was a cliffhanger. I couldn't tell you the end until she received it. And then when she DID receive it, she wrote an awesome post on her blog telling all about it, and linked it in the comments. To make sure everyone saw the ending, I edited my original post and linked to her post. I did this for two reasons:

1) She's funny. Her post was funny. I saw no need for me to try and be funny talking about the same thing a second time.
2) Blogging is like a big circle jerk. You link to someone, they link to you, you comment on their blog, they comment on yours. Everyone's jerking someone at any given time. That's how it works.

But I don't think my mother in law has seen Britto's post. I say this because she posted on Facebook specifically asking me to follow up on this. Ladies, listen to me. Do what your mother in law says. She raised your husband. If you decided to marry him, chances are she did a pretty good job with him. Your husband might have moved away from her to be with you. He probably hasn't gone to see her on Mother's Day since he moved in with you because you spend Mother's Day with YOUR mother. And since he moved away, he probably doesn't see her as frequently as he'd like. Maybe not even on all of the holidays because you have kids now and it's a pain in the ass to travel all around on the holidays with kids. You took her son out of state and now he's all grown up with kids and she only gets to see him and her grandchildren once a month, at best. For fuck's sake. When she wants to hear more about the stupid shit that you bought for your friends, you comply with this request. Because one day you are going to have a daughter in law. And if you can't tell that little son stealing wench what a wonderful and doting daughter in law YOU once were, you. are. fucked.

Debbie. My friend Brittany received her gift and told us all about it here. Sorry about that whole "moving Todd to Jersey" thing.

Pin It

For Better or Worse

Before my husband was my husband, he was my boyfriend from Connecticut. To make a Connecticut/New Jersey relationship work, a lot of travel was involved. It wasn't uncommon for him to get off from his shift at the bar where he worked as a bouncer at 2:00 am on a Saturday morning and drive through the night to arrive at my house at four or five o'clock in the morning. To me, this was mind boggling and also REALLY romantic. I asked him once how he could stay awake to drive down here at such an hour. His response? "I turn classical music on and turn it up really loud and drive with the windows down. I don't know. I just really like listening to classical music while I'm driving long distances." My response? "Omg marry me and let's make babies, sexy sexy classical music listening man."

Today we were driving to Pennsylvania to visit my parents. He scanned through the radio stations a bit, and then settled upon a classical music station. After we listened for a few minutes, he turned to me and said "Doesn't this make you think of Tom and Jerry? Like this part right here. Doesn't it sound like Jerry is sneaking around with some cheese or something? I don't know, I just like thinking of that."

Classic example of perception vs reality, y'all. I married a fucking idiot.

Pin It

I Bought You Something Awful

This blog post needs a picture. But it can't have one. Not yet. Because it's a surprise. This blog post? It's a cliffhanger. Because you have to read it today and then wait for UPS to do it's magic. And in a few days, if UPS doesn't lose it, I can post what I'm talking about. Doesn't that sound exciting? It does. I'm excited for you. So let's talk about it.

In September, my friend Tasha and I were driving to North Jersey for a bit of shopping. I'm not good at being places on time, so we were already way later than we should have been when it happened. And by "it" I mean, we passed a garage sale. And as we drove past, the most glorious thing I've ever seen caught my eye.

Me: OMG. Did you SEE that?
Tasha: See what?
Me: THAT. We have to stop. I have to own that. We're turning around.
Tasha: Seriously? You're going to turn around and go to a garage sale for THAT? What are you even going to do with it?
Me: Be awesome. THAT's what.

So we turned around and drove back to the garage sale. As we got closer to the object in question, it became even more amazing. I know you don't know what it is, but trust me, it was everything it SHOULD be and then a whole lot more. My eyes lit up. I practically ran across the lawn. I couldn't risk someone else getting to it before me.

Me: How much for THAT?
Garage sale lady: THAT? Let's call it two dollars.
Me: YES. Two dollars. I will give you two dollars, and I will take that.

Later that night I brought it home and showed it to Todd and he said "What are we even going to do with that?" And I was like "I don't know, but I couldn't just NOT buy it. Look at it." He seemed strangely unimpressed. The next day, I realized I knew exactly what to do with it. I had to send it to someone. Not just any someone. No. I had someone in mind. But not yet. Timing is everything with these things. And so it's been in the back of my closet ever since. Waiting for the right moment. I thought about sending it immediately. I thought about sending it at Halloween. I thought about sending it at Christmas. But no. Those were the wrong moments. This? This is the moment.

My friend Brittany ran her first half marathon last weekend. I'm so proud of her. Just like I want to hug her until I crush her proud, you know? You can read all about it here on her blog, which is what you should be reading all the time if you like awesome people who inspire you and stuff. And now is the right time for me to send her a present which I think is hilarious and probably sums up how only I think I'm funny.

Britto. You're changing the way you live your life and accomplished something pretty amazing. Me? I bought you something awful. This thing is your problem now. YOU'RE WELCOME.

FOLLOW UP: She got it. And she's gonna pay it forward. The internet is the best place in the world.