Is this Mary, full of grace? Or is it just Ruby posing as an Afghani woman?
Friday, July 22, 2005
sunny days
We are settling in to true family time. We get up between 6 and 7, we hang out, have breakfast and get geared up to watch Lance in France. I happily down about 2 giant cups of coffee while Ru and El skibble around the house and porch with their various toys and mini strollers. They just chatter and yell and repeat everything we say. If you ask Ruby to say "fart" she says "fuck" instead. I love it. Nothing like telling your 16 month old to say a gross word and she delivers a grosser one back at you. I totally get what I deserve from her. Ruby is a TOTAL nut and proud of it. I can see Eloise checking her sister out, sitting back and soaking it all in. When she's alone without the distraction of sis, she totally shines... but for the moment she's happy letting Ruby get all of the attention.
So we put them in their cribs for a nap around 10, and happily watch the end of various stages of Le Tour - uninterrupted. Today I witnessed 2 riders taking pisses during the race. Mystery solved! They don't just pee on their bike seats... they take a moment to coast, skooch their shorts down, penis goes out and they wizz off to the side. Mastery! Such finesse to wield a stream of urine while you cruise along at 20 mph in the French countryside... and the best part of all is that the stupid Brit commentator doesn't mention a thing about it, even if the camera is catching that very moment of tinkle. Ugh. We just talk in an overdone British accent all morning, especially repeating all of the fantastic names. Floyd Landis. Levi Leipheimer. Oscar Pierero. Juan Antonio Fletcha. Ivan Basso. Axel Merkx. Xavier Zandia. Can't get enough. It's better than the Chinese divers in the summer olympics. (Anybody remember Fu Ming Xia?) And the team names!!! Fassa Bartolo. T Mobile (remember, in brit speak it's Tee-Mo-Bile).
One part of me really can't wait to get back to summer in VT... the farmer's market in particular. My friends and their kids too... but finally I've come to recognize a nice little rhythm here on the Isle of White (oh wait, that's in England) and I don't know what to think about home. Where IS home for me? Myles hasn't even fully decided if he wants to take the Orthopaedics rotation in Worcester MA during September... because now he wants to pursue a rotation in Emergency Medicine in Providence RI. (Please please let's all collectively meditate on Rhode Island for us so I can go to RISD for my masters degree some time in the next 3 years.)
Well, my next task is to post some photos of our most glorious July. I hope whoever reads this recognizes how fucking amazing it is for us to "summer" in Nantucket. I have no doubt about how lucky we are to be here... even after all of my WASP bashing in previous posts. You just can't believe how gorgeous the beaches are - so many years coming here and I still can't get over the beauty.
So we put them in their cribs for a nap around 10, and happily watch the end of various stages of Le Tour - uninterrupted. Today I witnessed 2 riders taking pisses during the race. Mystery solved! They don't just pee on their bike seats... they take a moment to coast, skooch their shorts down, penis goes out and they wizz off to the side. Mastery! Such finesse to wield a stream of urine while you cruise along at 20 mph in the French countryside... and the best part of all is that the stupid Brit commentator doesn't mention a thing about it, even if the camera is catching that very moment of tinkle. Ugh. We just talk in an overdone British accent all morning, especially repeating all of the fantastic names. Floyd Landis. Levi Leipheimer. Oscar Pierero. Juan Antonio Fletcha. Ivan Basso. Axel Merkx. Xavier Zandia. Can't get enough. It's better than the Chinese divers in the summer olympics. (Anybody remember Fu Ming Xia?) And the team names!!! Fassa Bartolo. T Mobile (remember, in brit speak it's Tee-Mo-Bile).
One part of me really can't wait to get back to summer in VT... the farmer's market in particular. My friends and their kids too... but finally I've come to recognize a nice little rhythm here on the Isle of White (oh wait, that's in England) and I don't know what to think about home. Where IS home for me? Myles hasn't even fully decided if he wants to take the Orthopaedics rotation in Worcester MA during September... because now he wants to pursue a rotation in Emergency Medicine in Providence RI. (Please please let's all collectively meditate on Rhode Island for us so I can go to RISD for my masters degree some time in the next 3 years.)
Well, my next task is to post some photos of our most glorious July. I hope whoever reads this recognizes how fucking amazing it is for us to "summer" in Nantucket. I have no doubt about how lucky we are to be here... even after all of my WASP bashing in previous posts. You just can't believe how gorgeous the beaches are - so many years coming here and I still can't get over the beauty.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
White-ass MO'-fO's
There's just not enough time in the day to write what I really need to explain about Nantucket. It's truly SO ridiculous to see what the wealthiest people in the world do on their "vacation" time (my guess is that most of the people I am about to describe find themselves on a permanent vacation anyway because for them, the money just flows and flows...). What do they do you ask?
They wear white pants.
Now, ever since I can remember, white pants were problematic. Back in about 1984 my mom never let me wear my white Esprit clamdiggers on a day that we had art scheduled at school. When I did get a good chance to wear them, we had either tacos or spaghetti for lunch, meaning stain removal by mom was inevitable - either that or the neighbor's dog jumped up on me with muddy paws while I waited for carpool. Next came that famous enlargement of my hips in about 7th grade, which meant most pale colored pants (slate, cream, ecru, khaki or butter) were avoided because mom said it really wasn't flattering to one's backside. And for the most part, she's still right. Just stay away from those white pants or the bacon you ate for breakfast all week will be that much more obvious in the rump. Back when Myles and I were first dating, he bought me this gorgeous pair of high waisted, pleated cream silk pants with a wide, cuffed leg. They dragged a little on the ground and slouched just right when I put my hands in the pockets - wasn't I so Katherine Hepburn? Well, not really. I think I wore them all of 4 times. (God I hope they are still in my closet back in Milton.) It just never made sense to wear them and take the risk of getting them dirty, even if my ass looked kinda Hollywood Glamour.
So, if you are full of money and want to wear just the right thing to look both casual and chic simultaneously, put on those white pantalones. Be impractical! Hell, you're not doing your own laundry. And as for your ass? It looks great in ANYTHING - even white bikinis - because you have someone working it out for you every day and making sure you ingest nothing other than wheatgrass smoothies and lean grilled meat. White pants look great on you when you're filthy rich. The yacht you hang out on is white, your porch furniture is probably white, and guess what else, you're probably white too! Nothing you interact with is dirty, dusty or gritty because you have paid someone else to polish it for you. (Your garden is pristine because you never weeded it, watered it, or even planted it. And your lawn always looks perfect. Etc., etc.)
Honestly, I could take a walk here at any time of day and count numerous Whitepants strolling around. And I SO don't get it. Wouldn't you just be worried about them? Well, these people just don't have to worry about stuff like that. Duh!
This is what Nantucket has become in the summer- a place for people who can afford hire others to deal with their filth. Wait, have I mentioned that most of the monstrous homes here are only lived in from late June to Labor Day? That means there are a few loyals who stick around through the fall and come here on and off throughout the course of the year - but I bet those folks have come here forever and they still drive the same beat up Grand Wagoneer. (Should have titled my blog "MIss Nelson is Guessing? HA!)
My dad says he loves the white pants. He says if you can wear them, let him see them! He thinks I make false assumptions about people I don't even know. He's right. But just because I'm writing this doesn't mean I automatically hate a Whitepant - it just means I don't really get that mindset, that aesthetic, that sterility..., and I don't know if those qualities are best thing for this tiny island. If you can afford to have ANYTHING you want, don't you lose focus on the world around you? Isn't it easier for you to forget how important the landscape is?
They wear white pants.
Now, ever since I can remember, white pants were problematic. Back in about 1984 my mom never let me wear my white Esprit clamdiggers on a day that we had art scheduled at school. When I did get a good chance to wear them, we had either tacos or spaghetti for lunch, meaning stain removal by mom was inevitable - either that or the neighbor's dog jumped up on me with muddy paws while I waited for carpool. Next came that famous enlargement of my hips in about 7th grade, which meant most pale colored pants (slate, cream, ecru, khaki or butter) were avoided because mom said it really wasn't flattering to one's backside. And for the most part, she's still right. Just stay away from those white pants or the bacon you ate for breakfast all week will be that much more obvious in the rump. Back when Myles and I were first dating, he bought me this gorgeous pair of high waisted, pleated cream silk pants with a wide, cuffed leg. They dragged a little on the ground and slouched just right when I put my hands in the pockets - wasn't I so Katherine Hepburn? Well, not really. I think I wore them all of 4 times. (God I hope they are still in my closet back in Milton.) It just never made sense to wear them and take the risk of getting them dirty, even if my ass looked kinda Hollywood Glamour.
So, if you are full of money and want to wear just the right thing to look both casual and chic simultaneously, put on those white pantalones. Be impractical! Hell, you're not doing your own laundry. And as for your ass? It looks great in ANYTHING - even white bikinis - because you have someone working it out for you every day and making sure you ingest nothing other than wheatgrass smoothies and lean grilled meat. White pants look great on you when you're filthy rich. The yacht you hang out on is white, your porch furniture is probably white, and guess what else, you're probably white too! Nothing you interact with is dirty, dusty or gritty because you have paid someone else to polish it for you. (Your garden is pristine because you never weeded it, watered it, or even planted it. And your lawn always looks perfect. Etc., etc.)
Honestly, I could take a walk here at any time of day and count numerous Whitepants strolling around. And I SO don't get it. Wouldn't you just be worried about them? Well, these people just don't have to worry about stuff like that. Duh!
This is what Nantucket has become in the summer- a place for people who can afford hire others to deal with their filth. Wait, have I mentioned that most of the monstrous homes here are only lived in from late June to Labor Day? That means there are a few loyals who stick around through the fall and come here on and off throughout the course of the year - but I bet those folks have come here forever and they still drive the same beat up Grand Wagoneer. (Should have titled my blog "MIss Nelson is Guessing? HA!)
My dad says he loves the white pants. He says if you can wear them, let him see them! He thinks I make false assumptions about people I don't even know. He's right. But just because I'm writing this doesn't mean I automatically hate a Whitepant - it just means I don't really get that mindset, that aesthetic, that sterility..., and I don't know if those qualities are best thing for this tiny island. If you can afford to have ANYTHING you want, don't you lose focus on the world around you? Isn't it easier for you to forget how important the landscape is?
Monday, July 11, 2005
Woo Hoo! Corn!
On our weekend in Brattleboro we went to the greatest farm where we played in a silo with corn. I quite enjoyed walking barefoot through the stuff... because it was a sweltering 89 degrees (I'm spoiled here in Nantucket with the sea air and all) and cool corn starch on your feet is dreamy. Ru and El were a lot less sticky afterwards. (Can I market this experience somehow? Like, "Dried Corn Cooling Masque for the body"?) We got to hold baby chicks and pet all sorts of animals. The best was a piglet that rolled on its back and let you rub its tummy. Sadly, no photo to prove it.
Hot Hot Sand
Myles and I went to the playground with the girls and they loved the little boats covered with sand. They kept saying "clean clean clean" as they dusted away - but it sounds more like "keen keen keen" I guess. Totally entertaining.
Striped on the 4th
We like to entertain Ru and El with raisins when we really need them to sit still in their strollers. It makes for a decent photo opportunity too.
1st Place!
Daisy's bicycle won the prize in the "bicycle decorating contest". She had handmade paper hats for all of her stuffed animals and put them all over the bike. Sooo cute! She is the most creative 9 year old I know.
Miss Daisy
Cousin Daisy participated in the watermelon eating contest on the 4th. I never actually saw the event, considering that I was chasing babies down a cobblestone street filled with people. Regardless, isn't this just a cute shot?
beachy keen, no?
This was our best beach day so far. Babies in swim suits are like sweet little sausages.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Wax On, Wax Off
Honestly, I don't get why I think it's okay for a stranger to remove my unwanted body hair. And unfortunate strangers they are! Who knows what hideous things they have to encounter while applying hot wax to someone's neglected "bikini area". Ha! "Bikini Area". We are so embarrassed to say what it is we are actually waxing that we call it an "area". Well, the place I like to be hair free could be called just the "ass crack", but no one wants to say that to the person at the salon desk. Hell, once I made the mistake of saying, "I'd like a full leg and armpit wax" to one of those cheap joints in NYC (masterfully run and by Asians, yes) and I was corrected politely: "You want full leg and underarm?" So it's an UNDERARM not an ARMPIT. Armpit is gross I guess - and I suppose I wouldn't really want to wax a pit - or a crack for that matter. What about a vulva? "Hi, I'm here for a 2:00 full vulva wax." That would be excellent. Fuck, it's better than "Brazilian" - which implies that Brazilians have impeccably hairless crotches and cracks, and that perhaps if you get "brazilian-ed" you too might have beautiful Brazilian butt cheeks.
Whatever, I dig the Brazilian if it's done right (so much so that I don't mind some random person grooming my privates) and it does make me feel slightly more sexy - but how often is the Brazilian really done right? And in Nantucket of all places? Hell no. Did I have yet another horrible wax experience here? Hell yes. Ugh. I walked out of this place with my underwear stuck to my crack for the rest of the afternoon, and my remaining pubes had to be trimmed of the leftover wax. You know what's the most ridiculous? That I paid this woman and I acted like everything was okay because I just wanted the whole experience to be over with. I smiled, gave her a tip and walked out. She didn't speak a word of english, actually. So if I had a complaint it would have been a complete farce.
Enough on my crack though, because really, what I should be writing about is Tari Cash's wedding in Martha's Vineyard this weekend. Mom and I ventured on a super long journey by ferry to MVY with Ru and El, where we found ourselves chasing completely overtired little monsters around a filthy ferry deck. Insanity. I'm proud to say that we survived though and I'm psyched that we were there to see such an amazing event - I swear there had to be at least 350 people invited, and we were the minority! My first African-American wedding and I'm not sure I'll ever get to see anything quite like it again. It was spectacular, Tari was gorgeous, her family and husband were adorable and I had a reunion with several old old friends. Myles actually joined us there on Friday night before the wedding and Ru and El had some hesitation when he scooped them up in his arms at the airport. I think they were so psyched to see him because we had been talking about him for so long, and then the reality of Daddy and who he is seemed a little confusing. I mean, how good is your memory at 15 months of age? 2 weeks of not seeing someone can render them non-existant if you don't keep up the chatter about them. Seriously, they were kind of scared to see him. But after a couple minutes they wanted nothing to do with mom or me... it was all Dad. And he was so great with them at the wedding, running around and watching them while I tried to hang with my friends. Guess what, after a couple of lame pictures at the ceremony, my camera battery died again. I have no visuals from the fucking insanely beautiful reception! Ugh. You should have seen the size of these tents, the landscape, the band, and the way the girls looked in their party dresses, flopping around all giddy on these giant white couches in the cocktail tent - or running around the grassy lawn with sugar cane in their mouths. The perfect photo op all evening, and I was screwed.
So Myles comes back to Nantucket tomorrow and we will celebrate our 2 year anniversary one day late. Do you think we'll get in a fight on our annual dinner date again? That would be grand. Highly likely too, considering that I always get all nostalgic about how we used to be. Perhaps I'll keep my mouth shut this time and see if he might deliver a corny comment or two on his own. YIKES! I can't believe I'm going to have him with us for the entire month - it's going to be a huge treat - one that I probably won't have again until he retires. Weird, eh? I wonder if it will be good for us, or whether it will be a disaster.
Whatever, I dig the Brazilian if it's done right (so much so that I don't mind some random person grooming my privates) and it does make me feel slightly more sexy - but how often is the Brazilian really done right? And in Nantucket of all places? Hell no. Did I have yet another horrible wax experience here? Hell yes. Ugh. I walked out of this place with my underwear stuck to my crack for the rest of the afternoon, and my remaining pubes had to be trimmed of the leftover wax. You know what's the most ridiculous? That I paid this woman and I acted like everything was okay because I just wanted the whole experience to be over with. I smiled, gave her a tip and walked out. She didn't speak a word of english, actually. So if I had a complaint it would have been a complete farce.
Enough on my crack though, because really, what I should be writing about is Tari Cash's wedding in Martha's Vineyard this weekend. Mom and I ventured on a super long journey by ferry to MVY with Ru and El, where we found ourselves chasing completely overtired little monsters around a filthy ferry deck. Insanity. I'm proud to say that we survived though and I'm psyched that we were there to see such an amazing event - I swear there had to be at least 350 people invited, and we were the minority! My first African-American wedding and I'm not sure I'll ever get to see anything quite like it again. It was spectacular, Tari was gorgeous, her family and husband were adorable and I had a reunion with several old old friends. Myles actually joined us there on Friday night before the wedding and Ru and El had some hesitation when he scooped them up in his arms at the airport. I think they were so psyched to see him because we had been talking about him for so long, and then the reality of Daddy and who he is seemed a little confusing. I mean, how good is your memory at 15 months of age? 2 weeks of not seeing someone can render them non-existant if you don't keep up the chatter about them. Seriously, they were kind of scared to see him. But after a couple minutes they wanted nothing to do with mom or me... it was all Dad. And he was so great with them at the wedding, running around and watching them while I tried to hang with my friends. Guess what, after a couple of lame pictures at the ceremony, my camera battery died again. I have no visuals from the fucking insanely beautiful reception! Ugh. You should have seen the size of these tents, the landscape, the band, and the way the girls looked in their party dresses, flopping around all giddy on these giant white couches in the cocktail tent - or running around the grassy lawn with sugar cane in their mouths. The perfect photo op all evening, and I was screwed.
So Myles comes back to Nantucket tomorrow and we will celebrate our 2 year anniversary one day late. Do you think we'll get in a fight on our annual dinner date again? That would be grand. Highly likely too, considering that I always get all nostalgic about how we used to be. Perhaps I'll keep my mouth shut this time and see if he might deliver a corny comment or two on his own. YIKES! I can't believe I'm going to have him with us for the entire month - it's going to be a huge treat - one that I probably won't have again until he retires. Weird, eh? I wonder if it will be good for us, or whether it will be a disaster.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Saturday, June 18, 2005
The Information PooperHighway
These days you open up emails left and right - each one of them sharing some disgustingly pared down pieces of "wisdom", telling you to pass the numbered list on to people who you think would agree or find it funny.
WHY? Will someone please tell me why? I really don't think these things are doing much at all, other than clogging our fucking inboxes and giving lame bloggers like me a reason to get grouchy. I mean, I'm all for those emails that are supposed to do good things (like politically angled ones, things that ask you to donate, or even petitions... even if they just end up doing nothing, they make me feel slightly worthy of decent karmic retribution) - but the fucking lists upon lists of horribly un-funny stuff... please spare me. PLEASE. All they do is remind me of how horrible office jobs are, and how many hours some employees waste emailing, reading crappy emails and having watercooler discussions as a result. Yes. I know... the Queen of All Procrastinators, Miss Nelson, professing to hate email "time wasters"... quite comical... but this one I received today just put me over the edge. In all honesty, I think I don't like it because of the very last line (which totally reveals the type of person who wrote it), but I just can't deal with the bad grammar and the vague references.
Shit. What am I saying? I'm all for generalizations, stereotyping and exaggeration when it makes a good story or embellishes gossip - but when the "information" that gets passed around the internet is trying to profess some sort of moral correctness - don't you think it should at least be grounded with at least one fact or statistic?
Here goes with the email:
>Love him or hate him, he sure hits the nail on the head with this! To
>anyone with kids of any age, here's some advice.
>
>Bill Gates gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not
>and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically
>correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of
>reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.
>
>Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!
>
>Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will
>expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about
>yourself.
>
>Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You
>won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
>
>Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
>
>Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your
>Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it
>opportunity.
>
>Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine
>about your mistakes, learn from them.
>
>Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are
>now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes
>and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So
>before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's
>generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
>
>Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but
>life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and
>they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer.
>This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
>
>Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off
>and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do
>that on your own time.
>
>Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually
>have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
>
>Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.
>
>
>If you agree, pass it on.
> If you can read this - Thank a teacher!
>If you are reading it in English -Thank a soldier!!
>
>
Seriously. The more I read it, the more annoyed I get. And I even agree with "Rules" 1 and 5... maybe 11 too, but why is it a Rule anyway? As for Rule 10, if you think TV is real life, we already know you have some serious problems - I don't think that the spoiled kids that have grown up with a progressive education that stresses self-esteem and a non-competitive environment (i.e.-no failing grades, etc.) would have trouble coping with the fact that characters on TV don't seem to have jobs.
Rule #7 is completely ridiculous. Completely. What's the rule? That you should de-louse your closet because you are a big, peace loving hippie whose parents loved you so much that you turned out to be a good person ?
Not all of life's skills need to be taught or learned at school, and not all of us need to win and lose or be given failing grades in order to replicate situations in "the real world". Some of us are lucky enough to have parents and family members who have tought us about the highs and lows of winning and losing, and the importance of trying hard in the face of adversity. There's plenty to learn from real life experiences, even if your school doesn't give out F's. I'm living proof that an education based in self-esteem and second, third and fourth chances with grades doesn't create a weak person without a sense of reality. And you know what? I do know that Bill Gates himself went to a groovy, oopy-goopy, self-esteem based private school growing up (you want the link? lakesideschool.org)... so really, it's tremendously silly for him to say that he comes from a generation with no concept of reality.
My point here? This incredible technology - this zeitgeist we are experiencing/participating in - makes some of us feel so goddamn powerful, and really, at the end of the day, these words are all just a bunch of fucking zeros and ones sloshing around in a broadband cyber-sewer.
WHY? Will someone please tell me why? I really don't think these things are doing much at all, other than clogging our fucking inboxes and giving lame bloggers like me a reason to get grouchy. I mean, I'm all for those emails that are supposed to do good things (like politically angled ones, things that ask you to donate, or even petitions... even if they just end up doing nothing, they make me feel slightly worthy of decent karmic retribution) - but the fucking lists upon lists of horribly un-funny stuff... please spare me. PLEASE. All they do is remind me of how horrible office jobs are, and how many hours some employees waste emailing, reading crappy emails and having watercooler discussions as a result. Yes. I know... the Queen of All Procrastinators, Miss Nelson, professing to hate email "time wasters"... quite comical... but this one I received today just put me over the edge. In all honesty, I think I don't like it because of the very last line (which totally reveals the type of person who wrote it), but I just can't deal with the bad grammar and the vague references.
Shit. What am I saying? I'm all for generalizations, stereotyping and exaggeration when it makes a good story or embellishes gossip - but when the "information" that gets passed around the internet is trying to profess some sort of moral correctness - don't you think it should at least be grounded with at least one fact or statistic?
Here goes with the email:
>Love him or hate him, he sure hits the nail on the head with this! To
>anyone with kids of any age, here's some advice.
>
>Bill Gates gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not
>and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically
>correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of
>reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.
>
>Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!
>
>Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will
>expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about
>yourself.
>
>Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You
>won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
>
>Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
>
>Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your
>Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it
>opportunity.
>
>Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine
>about your mistakes, learn from them.
>
>Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are
>now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes
>and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So
>before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's
>generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
>
>Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but
>life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and
>they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer.
>This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
>
>Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off
>and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do
>that on your own time.
>
>Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually
>have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
>
>Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.
>
>
>If you agree, pass it on.
> If you can read this - Thank a teacher!
>If you are reading it in English -Thank a soldier!!
>
>
Seriously. The more I read it, the more annoyed I get. And I even agree with "Rules" 1 and 5... maybe 11 too, but why is it a Rule anyway? As for Rule 10, if you think TV is real life, we already know you have some serious problems - I don't think that the spoiled kids that have grown up with a progressive education that stresses self-esteem and a non-competitive environment (i.e.-no failing grades, etc.) would have trouble coping with the fact that characters on TV don't seem to have jobs.
Rule #7 is completely ridiculous. Completely. What's the rule? That you should de-louse your closet because you are a big, peace loving hippie whose parents loved you so much that you turned out to be a good person ?
Not all of life's skills need to be taught or learned at school, and not all of us need to win and lose or be given failing grades in order to replicate situations in "the real world". Some of us are lucky enough to have parents and family members who have tought us about the highs and lows of winning and losing, and the importance of trying hard in the face of adversity. There's plenty to learn from real life experiences, even if your school doesn't give out F's. I'm living proof that an education based in self-esteem and second, third and fourth chances with grades doesn't create a weak person without a sense of reality. And you know what? I do know that Bill Gates himself went to a groovy, oopy-goopy, self-esteem based private school growing up (you want the link? lakesideschool.org)... so really, it's tremendously silly for him to say that he comes from a generation with no concept of reality.
My point here? This incredible technology - this zeitgeist we are experiencing/participating in - makes some of us feel so goddamn powerful, and really, at the end of the day, these words are all just a bunch of fucking zeros and ones sloshing around in a broadband cyber-sewer.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Sandy Cracks
We took the girls on their first real beach visit - you know, with bathing suits, sunblock everywhere, sun hats and a picnic snack. It was HILARIOUS. The water is a bit too cold for even toddlers to love, I think. They seemed so timid about getting wet and were confused about the sand sticking to everything. The pails, shovels and watering can were a huge success though. Such entertainment! Getting to the beach and back, however, seems to involve a "staff" of people... thank god for my sister and my mom. I bet we'll be experts by the end of July.
So, I think this day was a huge eye opener in many ways. We have so much to look forward to with Ruby and Eloise loving Nantucket. There's just a ton of stuff to learn about and love here. Motor boats versus sailboats, playgrounds, big kids and taking turns, new friends, sand in all it's varieties, shells, stones, pebbles, seaweed, why you don't drink salt water, soggy diapers, naked swimming, hermit crabs, seagulls and why you don't feed them, beach grass, tick checks, sunsets, the moon at night and the moon in the day, campfires, roasting marshmallows and Downyflake doughnuts. Lots of "firsts" this summer.
Cousin Stephen and Blythe joined us for breakfast - their treat! So really, Stephen, you can get credit for getting my girls hooked on world's most divine doughnuts (unquestionably the best ever)! Ruby took one bite and made her goofy excited face, fists clenched and everything. She ate the whole thing saying mmmmmm and quivering. Eloise liked the doughnut too, but I have to admit, by the time she was eating it, I was up and chasing Ruby around the restaurant and I missed viewing her "experience". Gwennie fed her bacon though... also a success. Long live the Pork Product!
I can't wait for Myles to get here so he can dig huge holes in the sand and throw the girls in. He really is such a fun dad - like I sort of wish he was lame and boring so Eloise and Ruby wouldn't dig him so much - not because I'm jealous or feel like he'll sabotage my discipline (although that's probably inevitable too) or anything - but because I just feel sad that they totally adore him. It sucks to feel like he's missing all of these cool moments in his kids' lives now - and it makes me think about how he'll know them in all the years to come. I wonder if he understands just how much they love him. Every morning since I've been here, I go in to get them in their cribs and they say "MOMMY!" and then Eloise goes: "Daddy?" It breaks my heart . They are just so goddamn clever. HA!
Ew, so on a totally different note, I just have to comment on my new sensation wearing a bathing suit. Because I feel relatively unsexy in my one-piece number, (because I'm pretty much the same weight as I was before I had the babies but everything has relocated and taken on a different "texture") I've decided that there's just no sense in really really getting worked up about it. I decided that I have to believe that I look good. In the grand scheme of things, I'm fucking lucky as hell to be healthy and strong. I don't have 30 pounds to lose or any muscle that I need to build. I need to be psyched about what I've got because there is just no other option. I see my family members and friends constantly putting themselves down regarding how much weight they've gained here and there - how they need to eat more protein or how much they've been excercising. It drives me fucking crazy. No, really, let me say that again: comments about weight and physique drive me INSANE. I wish I could never ever talk about it again as long as I live. The only thing we should be concerned about is our overall health and what delicious things we can eat to maintain our longevity. I know the next big fad in weight loss will be the "eat a little bit of everything" diet and I'll be pissed that I didn't write the book myself. BTW, did you know that Hellman's Mayonnaise advertises itself as having 0% carbs? NO FUCKING WAY!!! Mayo... no carbs?? I'm hooked. Sign me up for the Hellman's diet plan. And while you're at it, can I have some eggs with a side of lard? ... because that doesn't have carbs either.
What I was originally getting at though is that I have a funny new way of dealing with my body and how to dress it. It's not the same, but I'm not going to hide my belly forever. It is what it is. But where do you draw the line between owning your sexy body and being a confident woman (i.e., saying fuck you to all the skinnies and obsessives out there), and looking downright gross bulging out of places here and there? A choice of clothing makes a huge statement, no?
Discuss. Please.
So, I think this day was a huge eye opener in many ways. We have so much to look forward to with Ruby and Eloise loving Nantucket. There's just a ton of stuff to learn about and love here. Motor boats versus sailboats, playgrounds, big kids and taking turns, new friends, sand in all it's varieties, shells, stones, pebbles, seaweed, why you don't drink salt water, soggy diapers, naked swimming, hermit crabs, seagulls and why you don't feed them, beach grass, tick checks, sunsets, the moon at night and the moon in the day, campfires, roasting marshmallows and Downyflake doughnuts. Lots of "firsts" this summer.
Cousin Stephen and Blythe joined us for breakfast - their treat! So really, Stephen, you can get credit for getting my girls hooked on world's most divine doughnuts (unquestionably the best ever)! Ruby took one bite and made her goofy excited face, fists clenched and everything. She ate the whole thing saying mmmmmm and quivering. Eloise liked the doughnut too, but I have to admit, by the time she was eating it, I was up and chasing Ruby around the restaurant and I missed viewing her "experience". Gwennie fed her bacon though... also a success. Long live the Pork Product!
I can't wait for Myles to get here so he can dig huge holes in the sand and throw the girls in. He really is such a fun dad - like I sort of wish he was lame and boring so Eloise and Ruby wouldn't dig him so much - not because I'm jealous or feel like he'll sabotage my discipline (although that's probably inevitable too) or anything - but because I just feel sad that they totally adore him. It sucks to feel like he's missing all of these cool moments in his kids' lives now - and it makes me think about how he'll know them in all the years to come. I wonder if he understands just how much they love him. Every morning since I've been here, I go in to get them in their cribs and they say "MOMMY!" and then Eloise goes: "Daddy?" It breaks my heart . They are just so goddamn clever. HA!
Ew, so on a totally different note, I just have to comment on my new sensation wearing a bathing suit. Because I feel relatively unsexy in my one-piece number, (because I'm pretty much the same weight as I was before I had the babies but everything has relocated and taken on a different "texture") I've decided that there's just no sense in really really getting worked up about it. I decided that I have to believe that I look good. In the grand scheme of things, I'm fucking lucky as hell to be healthy and strong. I don't have 30 pounds to lose or any muscle that I need to build. I need to be psyched about what I've got because there is just no other option. I see my family members and friends constantly putting themselves down regarding how much weight they've gained here and there - how they need to eat more protein or how much they've been excercising. It drives me fucking crazy. No, really, let me say that again: comments about weight and physique drive me INSANE. I wish I could never ever talk about it again as long as I live. The only thing we should be concerned about is our overall health and what delicious things we can eat to maintain our longevity. I know the next big fad in weight loss will be the "eat a little bit of everything" diet and I'll be pissed that I didn't write the book myself. BTW, did you know that Hellman's Mayonnaise advertises itself as having 0% carbs? NO FUCKING WAY!!! Mayo... no carbs?? I'm hooked. Sign me up for the Hellman's diet plan. And while you're at it, can I have some eggs with a side of lard? ... because that doesn't have carbs either.
What I was originally getting at though is that I have a funny new way of dealing with my body and how to dress it. It's not the same, but I'm not going to hide my belly forever. It is what it is. But where do you draw the line between owning your sexy body and being a confident woman (i.e., saying fuck you to all the skinnies and obsessives out there), and looking downright gross bulging out of places here and there? A choice of clothing makes a huge statement, no?
Discuss. Please.
Monday, June 13, 2005
shouldn't you be napping?
After an insanely exhausting ferry ride to Nantucket with my dad, Ruby and Eloise finally fell asleep in their stroller just as we rounded the lighthouse into the harbor. I suppose it could have been much worse - but I never knew how crazy my babies could be, running in different directions on a rocky ship. Silly me. Like they were going to sit still for 2.5 hours and read stories...
Well, we celebrated the life of Momsmom yesterday and it was wonderful. The girls slept through the reception, which meant that I got to eat and chat to a few good people, and they were well behaved at the church. It felt nice to see the true nantucketers come out of the walls and get together and share memories. Nantucket is so amazing. Somehow even those of us who cannot stand what it's become still know what this place is all about... or maybe we just like feeling like we are important. Are we superior because we know the history of this place? I'm not so sure. Maybe we're just real. We love the sweet air, the isolation, the sand in all the cracks, the fog, the mildew and the debauchery that goes hand in hand with "island life". We like seeing the same people year after year, all weathered a bit more, the kids grown up, babies on the way, stories shared of other lives passing on, remembering how crazy we all were and how simple everything used to be. I think it's funny how we as people relate to the history of a place... how we fit into the memories.
Ugh. I could expand on this topic endlessly. Change! History! Place!... makes me think of Skyline Diner on Lex from my last visit to Manhattan.
Really though, what's wrong with me? I can't help but feel obligated to waste my precious nap time while my little nuggets are asleep. Is this blog thing theraputic? I'm not so sure. I do know that our entire family is disabled when it comes to prioritizing. You should see us all together. We are insane!
Well, we celebrated the life of Momsmom yesterday and it was wonderful. The girls slept through the reception, which meant that I got to eat and chat to a few good people, and they were well behaved at the church. It felt nice to see the true nantucketers come out of the walls and get together and share memories. Nantucket is so amazing. Somehow even those of us who cannot stand what it's become still know what this place is all about... or maybe we just like feeling like we are important. Are we superior because we know the history of this place? I'm not so sure. Maybe we're just real. We love the sweet air, the isolation, the sand in all the cracks, the fog, the mildew and the debauchery that goes hand in hand with "island life". We like seeing the same people year after year, all weathered a bit more, the kids grown up, babies on the way, stories shared of other lives passing on, remembering how crazy we all were and how simple everything used to be. I think it's funny how we as people relate to the history of a place... how we fit into the memories.
Ugh. I could expand on this topic endlessly. Change! History! Place!... makes me think of Skyline Diner on Lex from my last visit to Manhattan.
Really though, what's wrong with me? I can't help but feel obligated to waste my precious nap time while my little nuggets are asleep. Is this blog thing theraputic? I'm not so sure. I do know that our entire family is disabled when it comes to prioritizing. You should see us all together. We are insane!
Friday, June 10, 2005
Jah-ooooh!
Okay, nobody told me how computer literate you have to be to get photos happening on your blog... I feel like such a boob. This should take some gettin used to. And did I forget to mention that we are leaving for Nantucket tomorrow morning and I barely started packing? Dang I hate computers. Fucking vortex sucking my precious naptime into nowhere.
Don't forget Ruby's nebulizer and meds, cozy blankies, bag of snacks for the car, sippy cups out my asshole, some books, some toys, diapers and wipes, big tub of A & D, sunblock, tampons for me, SOCKS AND SHOES, undies and bras, laundry in washer, water plants, feed cat, cell phone charger, baby monitor, CD's, iPod, bills, checkbook, braincells, razor & blades, shower gel, exfoliant, facewash, scrubby gloves, toothbrushes, jewelry, moisturizer, perfume, nice dresses, ADVIL, and little boxes of raisins. Christ almighty! Those little boxes of raisins are such a huge success. Bless the dried out grapes that re-hydrate in your digestive tract.
Don't forget Ruby's nebulizer and meds, cozy blankies, bag of snacks for the car, sippy cups out my asshole, some books, some toys, diapers and wipes, big tub of A & D, sunblock, tampons for me, SOCKS AND SHOES, undies and bras, laundry in washer, water plants, feed cat, cell phone charger, baby monitor, CD's, iPod, bills, checkbook, braincells, razor & blades, shower gel, exfoliant, facewash, scrubby gloves, toothbrushes, jewelry, moisturizer, perfume, nice dresses, ADVIL, and little boxes of raisins. Christ almighty! Those little boxes of raisins are such a huge success. Bless the dried out grapes that re-hydrate in your digestive tract.
Miss Nelson IS Missing!
Ridiculous. It took me how long to figure out I needed to blog? Way too long. At least 3 years too late.
So, this could be such a great solution to all of my problems. Thank you to Chelsea and Megan for sending me on my way into BloggyLand...
Or is that DoogieLand? Dr. Howser, you always were my inspiration behind computer diary confessionals.
Now the real question is, does anybody remember the famous kids book "Miss Nelson is Missing"? You know, where this nice kindergarten teacher is plagued each day by a poorly behaved group of students - so she mysteriously disappears one day, and she is replaced by a sketchy witch-like character named Miss Viola Swamp who miraculously scares all of her students into behaving... so that the day Miss Nelson returns to teaching, her class is respectful and thankful to have her back. (End of book shows an illustration of Miss Nelson's bedroom with the Viola Swamp costume in the closet...)
ANYWAY - this Miss Nelson IS missing. She has completely lost all control of her old self, her babies, her relationship with her husband, her ability to comfortably put on a beautiful outfit. So the former Miss Nelson, now Mrs. Webster, will be on a brief mental vacation in Bloggerville while she attempts to tame her brain back to behaving like an unmarried, independent hipster. (Ew. Apologies for the 3rd person-speak.)
I will masquerade around here as Mollie Holliday - because I never really made good use of that cutsie company name - and plan to shock myself into getting things done for my family and remember what makes me ME.
So, this could be such a great solution to all of my problems. Thank you to Chelsea and Megan for sending me on my way into BloggyLand...
Or is that DoogieLand? Dr. Howser, you always were my inspiration behind computer diary confessionals.
Now the real question is, does anybody remember the famous kids book "Miss Nelson is Missing"? You know, where this nice kindergarten teacher is plagued each day by a poorly behaved group of students - so she mysteriously disappears one day, and she is replaced by a sketchy witch-like character named Miss Viola Swamp who miraculously scares all of her students into behaving... so that the day Miss Nelson returns to teaching, her class is respectful and thankful to have her back. (End of book shows an illustration of Miss Nelson's bedroom with the Viola Swamp costume in the closet...)
ANYWAY - this Miss Nelson IS missing. She has completely lost all control of her old self, her babies, her relationship with her husband, her ability to comfortably put on a beautiful outfit. So the former Miss Nelson, now Mrs. Webster, will be on a brief mental vacation in Bloggerville while she attempts to tame her brain back to behaving like an unmarried, independent hipster. (Ew. Apologies for the 3rd person-speak.)
I will masquerade around here as Mollie Holliday - because I never really made good use of that cutsie company name - and plan to shock myself into getting things done for my family and remember what makes me ME.
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