Full of P*ss and Vinegar

Just so you know, I’m not just snubbing you, I’m snubbing the world. I never call, I never e-mail, and I’m pretty sure everyone hates me, or at least vaguely wonders whatever happened to me when they happen to think of me. At any rate, lately I’ve been feeling better, so I’ve actually been getting back in touch with members of my own family this week, and maybe next week I’ll move on to all my friends I haven’t called or e-mailed or lunched with in eons. I realized this weekend that I am so antisocial that Viva does not even know how to comport herself whilst I am on the telephonical machine. While I was talking to my stepfather, who lives thousands of miles away and who we last saw over three years ago, Viva began flinging herself onto the floor and moaning because I was talking to someone else besides her for 15 minutes. She just could not bear it.

So last night I was on the phone with my sister, and she was actually offering to have my kid sleep over on Saturday night, and that very selfsame kid was screeching at me to play with her, PLAY with her, oh my GOD how could I be on the PHONE when she needs me to PLAY with her, so I was playing tag in the back yard and then hide and seek while still talking on the phone, and my sister said, “You are such a fun mom!”

Which is so not true, apparently, because this weekend Viva told me that I am boring because all I like to do is read books. Never mind that she has begun reading herself (“I see the cat. I see the milk. No! No! No!”), which I have to partly attribute to the fact that she has been read to so much by her parents. Never mind that I play with her for hours at a time in various imaginary scenarios in which we morph from schoolteachers to space explorers to magicians to firefighters to professional athletes. Or that we play board games and card games and make little families out of Play-Doh and do all kinds of art projects. Have I mentioned that I have a full-time job?

Aside from that, this morning, one of my co-workers praised my writing and said she wants to start a writer’s group and wants me to be part of it. As in, she’s actually going to encourage me to write stuff not for work. And she thinks it would be good and stuff. That’s really heartening, because she’s a creative and thoughtful person and I respect her.

And then! My friend Cee nominated me as a Rockin’ Girl blogger today:

(Okay, I'm blushing a little bit. Aw, Cee, see?)

I tend to be a bit self-deprecating, which no doubt is a defense mechanism with roots in my adolescence. (Let’s not get into it.) But for whatever reason, compliments are coming my way, and I need to gracefully accept them. With grace! So thanks to one and all and the universe, for realizing I needed a little validation. Good for the soul.

I’m back, and I rock. More to come.

I Don't

So a week or so ago I was dropping Viva off at school/camp, and because I drop her off at 8:15, and school/camp doesn’t actually start until 9 AM, she hangs out with a mixed-age group of kids for a half-hour or so. Imagine my shock when I saw one of the little girls in the group wearing this:




















In case you can’t read it, or if your mind can’t put the two incongruities together, the shirt proudly proclaims: “Everyone loves a drunk girl.” Well, I don’t. Particularly not when she is 7 years old. I mentioned it to the teacher on duty. She said, “Oh, Katie? Yes, she’s worn that a few times.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” I said. I mean, it strains all limits of common sense.

“Oh, well, yeah – I think her parents are from Korea. They probably don’t know what it means,” she said.

“Well, don’t you think someone should tell them?” I asked.

“Oh ho ho, ho,” she responded gaily, and then pretended to be distracted by another kid.

Well, you know I can’t just let that kind of thing go. I was running late that day, and so I left, determined to call the school later from work. Well, I forgot. And then it was the weekend. And then on Monday, we went to school/camp and there she was, swinging with wild abandon on the swings. I don’t think she was drunk, but she was wearing the T-shirt. I just don’t get it. This is a school that has rules against wearing open-toed shoes, a school that mandates that if you are in pre-K or above, you have to wear a uniform. They seem to have a little bit of a concern with how one comports oneself on their property, and yet no one has evidently any concern about a kid running around with this shirt on. I feel like sending Viva to school in a hand-blocked shirt that screams in all caps, “Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!”

Just to see what would happen. You know.

At any rate, so, I talked to the assistant principal about it, and his jaw dropped on the floor. “I get the impression that her parents may not speak English,” I said. “If it was me, I’d want to know.”

I haven’t seen her wear the shirt again. Yet. But I’ll keep you posted.

A Dollop of Blog

Holy crap!  A new blog post! Let's hope it's mind-blowing, earth-shattering and dare I say death-defying!

 

Are you wondering what's happened to me? I'm kind of wondering that myself. 

 

The truth is that I am working a lot (like everyone else), I'm tired, I'm preoccupied, my health problems are kicking up their heels again, and all that is not very interesting. 

 

However: I'm doing a lot of cool reading for work these days. I'm working on a reading program for what are these days termed "juvenile offenders," so part of what I get to do is talk with two writing instructors/published authors about literature that would be appropriate for this population. Despite my thoroughly liberal arts background, I'm getting introduced to a lot of great fiction I haven't read before. Since I LOVE to read, and I am a huge lit geek, this is fine by me.

 

Speaking of that, I need to get back to it. But rest assured that I am still alive, just posting sporadically. I leave you with this snippet:

 

Viva: Do kangaroos have bellybuttons?

 

Sweet Dub: You know, that's a good question. I bet they don't have a cute little bellybutton like you. 

 

Viva:  Why not?

 

Sweet Dub: Because you are a placental mammal, and a kangaroo is not.

 

I'm serious. Do you see? Do you see what I am dealing with?

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