Fairy Tales and Super Sales

'Tis the season for parents everywhere to demonstrate for their children the real meaning of the holidays.

I'd like to take this minute to learn the Bill O'Reilly crowd a thing or two.

You shouldn't worry about whether the local courthouse has a Baby Jesus out front. Don't spend a whole lot of time yelling and screaming, "Merry Christmas, Goddamn It!" when a person wishes you "Happy Holidays."

Those of us who want to include all cultures and religions aren't the ones murdering Christmas.

Those who have declared a real war on Christmas are Christians just like you.

THEY are the ones killing your special Jesus-loving day. THEY are the ones trampling people to death and THEY are the ones killing fellow Christ-lovers over a goddamn toy.

Ain't no Jews, Muslims, or agnostics out pullin' that shit.

Take it up with yourselves - Bill-O's mouthbreathing followers.

And leave the rest of us alone.

Hanging Out with Stuffed Turkeys

This year, I am thankful for -

The ability to breathe through my mouth while a dead turkey neck boils over on the stove.

My family - who love me even though I won't eat their dairy desserts.

Forgiveness.

Best friends - who hold me up and keep me strong.

My liberal agenda.

Amazing brown eyes.

Stabilizing platelet counts. Even if they are still lower than George Bush's approval ratings.

Love.

A Florida address.

Fermenting grapes.

My children's giggles.

A President we can all be proud of.

The kindness of strangers.

My mom's patience.

Those times you make me laugh.

Health, happiness, and more of the same.

Happy Thanksgiving~!

The World Only Moves Forward

Many families in Florida have an extra reason to be thankful tomorrow. Miami-Dade Circuit Judge Cindy Lederman said it all.

"There is no rational basis to prohibit gay parents from adopting."

The ban on gay adoptions was ruled unconstitutional. The ban on gay marriage is next.

Score one for rational adults.

Let's continue to knock down a peg those homophobic mouthbreathers who believe we should be ruled by a book of fairy tales written before we knew where the sun went at night.

Happy days really are here again.

How 'Bout Them Apples?

Nana made great decorations. She'd attend Lighthouse for the Blind workshops and come home with items that continue to make us smile, more than ten years after her death.

These two pilgrims are two such creations.

At first glance, they are lovely and oh so innocent. Mr. and Mrs. Pilgrim out to gather some items for a Thanksgiving feast.

Look closer and they don't seem so innocent after all. Check out Mr. Pilgrim. What does it look like he's showing you?



"How 'bout them apples?"

Now check out Mrs. Pilgrim. What do you think she's saying?



"His apples got me in this situation."

It's in their eyes.

Their eyes are freaking me out. I'm seeing them in my dreams. Stop looking at me!

...maybe you need a few glasses of wine to see the horny and pregnant pilgrims for what they are.

Either way, if you listen closely, you can hear Nana laughing. I told you. Her decorations continue to make us smile.

A Title for My Memoir

I already asked this on Facebook, now everyone gets to play.

Which title do you like best for my memoir about teaching in Tampa:

Hot for Teacher

or

Learning Curves?

Which subtitle do you like best:

How I Avoided Becoming Another Teaching Scandal - Or Didn't

or

Five Years in the Nation's Most Scandalous School District?

Back to rewrites...

I Get the Best Emails - Ongoing

This one is partly true, check out Snopes.

And then proceed with caution.

To: Catherine
From: Mom
Subject: The Holidays

Wanted to give everyone a heads up that if you tend to give gift cards around the holidays, you need to make sure the cards will be honored after the holidays. Stores that are planning to close after Christmas are still selling the cards. There is no law preventing them from doing this.

Below is a partial list of stores that you need to be cautious about.

Circuit City
Ann Taylor
Nationwide
Lane Bryant, Fashion Bug ,and Catherine's
Eddie Bauer
Cache
Talbots
J. Jill
Pacific Sunwear
GAP
Footlocker
Wickes Furniture
Levitz
Bombay
Zales
Whitehall
Piercing Pagoda
Disney
Home Depot
Macys
Linens and Things
Movie Galley
Pep Boys
Sprint/Nextel
JC Penney
Ethan Allen
Wilson Leather
Sharper Image
K B Toys
Loews
Dillard's

Punk is Back

Yesterday my children attended a special activity day at their school to raise money for a local patient who needs heart surgery.

My own heart skipped a beat when Oldest donated $5 and got a special haircut from some "expert" who liked piercings and anarchist politics.

Reminded me of an old boyfriend.

The hair sytlist, not my son.

This is the result...


"Do you like it, Momma?"

Reminds me of a 'do I had in 1984 - only the guy who gave it to me wasn't a professional and I didn't pay for it.

...insert your own joke here.

Kill Baby Kill

Doesn't this make you want to have a slice?

Governor Sarah Palin continues to entertain...watch her pardon one turkey while others are slaughtered right behind her.



Yummy.

"But at least this was fun..."

What the Hell is Wrong with St. Petersburg?

According to Howard Troxler - unilateral power that's hurting the entire region.

That's what's wrong with St. Petersburg.

It looks as though the City Council continues to do the mayor's bidding, no matter who gets hurt or goes broke in the process. On Friday, *tomorrow*, they will take up Mayor Rick Baker's plan to annex 18 acres inside Tierra Verde.

For what? A little over $132,000.

That's right. St. Pete wants to alienate neighbors, incur possibly hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees when those neighbors sue, and wreck the fragile ecosystem with unneeded development for less than what most of my Republican friends make each year.

Contact the council members and tell them that overreaching and power-hungry grabs have no place in our community.

You have one day left. Make it count.

UPDATE: Didn't work. Oh well, Howard. We tried.

Still Crazy After All These Years

Julie, Cathy, and I got together this past weekend for the first time in over thirteen years. The heavens opened, angels lit up some weed, and the Lord rejoiced every time we undressed.

The Lord and Julie's neighbor. (One and the same. Right, Steve?)

In other words, all was right with the world.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit to noticing some serious changes between then and now, between yesterday's troublemakers and today's responsible grown-ups.

Here's what I noticed...

Bad sign.

Then - No single men outside a liquor store.
Now - "Don't flush - we are all out of water!" handwritten on a piece of paper and taped to the wall in a rest area just south of Sarasota.

Music and men.

Then - Cathy and I date guys like this and know all the words to their theme song.



Now - Cathy and I *pretend* to forget the words thanks to a jagermeister marathon in '92. Julie still wonders how many cavities are in the lead singer's head.

No sense of direction.

Then - Takes us five years to declare a major.
Now - Takes us five hours to get out of southeast Florida.

Our evening routine.

Then - Leave for Masquerade at midnight. Katie gets kicked out for worst fake ID ever. Sits outside with bouncers and talks politics until they let her back in. Greet sunrise with a 12-incher cause 1) that's how Cathy's boyfriends roll, 2) Subway stays open late for the rest of us and gives away free extra pickles. Katie gets kicked out for demanding dolphin-safe tuna.

Now - Everyone stops drinking at 7pm in order to take vitamins and compare varicose veins. In bed by 9:30pm.

Secrets.

Then - Cathy loves Rob Lowe even though it makes her officially uncool.
Now - Cathy plays Canasta Tournaments even though it makes her officially uncool.

Favorite lines.

Then - Katie: "I don't mean to be mean, but no."
Now - Katie: "I don't care if I'm being mean, hell no."

Alienating others.

Then - Julie yells at drivers who throw their cigarettes out the window, "The world is not your ashtray!"
Now - Julie invites Marcia to the party.

In another thirteen years, we'll get together with our pill boxes, compare age spots and laugh our asses off just like we always do.

Julie says she'll bring the Xanax.

I'm so in.

They Haven't Done Enough Damage, Right?

Those pesky Bush administration officials are trying to kill as many as two-thirds of the wolf population in Yellowstone and the Rockies.

I may not belong out west, but the wolves do.

Protect them and urge the US Fish and Wildlife Service to get their heads out of their asses and come up with a balanced and responsible management plan.

Cannot *wait* to get them the f*ck out of Washington.

Forgiveness and Facebook

Lots of people cut ties with their past and end relationships in order to move on. I understand the need to renew yourself by forging ahead without looking back.

But when I find someone special, I hold on for life.

I found most of my closest friends in the 1980s.

Not all. Family members have been there since the '60s. Can't forget the Boston bonds of the 1990s, special souls who will forever hold my heart in their hands. In the 2000s, I have come to cherish those who bring to mind that Elton John line, "I thank the Lord there's people out there like you."

Still. There's something remarkable about friendships that hit the twenty-year mark. Friendships that have stood the test of time without blood or genetics to hold them together. Friendships that survive because of love.

For a long time, I'd gather in my mind the girls that helped me grow - Becky, Sharon, and Cathy. In different, but wonderful ways, they helped me become the woman I am today. Becky's fierce independence, Sharon's determined loyalty, Cathy's heart of gold. We've seen it all - tears, tragedies and triumphs. Now I am heading toward my fourth decade with Beck, Sha, and Cat still very much a part of my life.

It means something.

People would say, "Wow. You've stayed connected with your best friends through junior high, high school, college and beyond? That's awesome."

I'd smile and nod. But inside there was always a nagging voice. "What about Julie?"

Julie and I were friends from 1985 - 1995. She started out as a smiling face in Chamberlain's hallways, but by freshman year in college we were inseparable. Husband would often say he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

You're probably thinking, "Only ten years?" But the years from fifteen to twenty-five carry more than three decades worth of growth, pain, joy, and wacky adventures in nudist colonies. Julie taught me how to drink tequila, for Christ's sake.

In 1995, Julie and I experienced what Sharon wisely refers to as "growth issues." We stopped talking. Over the years, not one day went by where I didn't wonder about how Julie was doing. I silently rooted for her health and happiness.

Finally, Sharon made 2008's equivalent of a "cut the shit, girls" declarative statement by inviting Julie to be her friend on Facebook.

"What's up with you and Katie?" she asked.

It started the ball rolling toward forgiveness. Many people will look back on November 4th, 2008 as the night we elected Barack Obama to be President of the United States. I will, too. But I will also remember that night as the night Julie and I talked for the first time in thirteen years.

Thanks, Yenta Sha.

This weekend, I'm going to Ft. Lauderdale for a well-deserved break and a reunion of sorts. A few other friends from our college years will join us (CATHY'S COMING WOO HOO!) and the weekend will also be a chance for Julie and I to reconnect. And make up for some lost time.

I am blessed because I have all my girls now. And I'm so happy I no longer have to wonder about Julie.

Tequila anyone?

It's Almost Turkey Time. You Know What That Means?

It's time for my annual post entitled: "Oh no. Not in my mouth, you don't."

Test yourself. Can you watch this all the way through?



Are you still hungry for flesh and tumors and ulcers?

Vegans are thinner, healthier, cuter, tastier, and smell better than meat eaters. Don't make me prove it to you.

While you're out shopping for your Thanksgiving feast, consider picking up a few items for your local homeless shelter or soup kitchen.

I'm gonna go nibble on a carrot. Enjoy the clip, peeps.

I'm Not Really Domestically Inclined

However, I do like a green kitchen, which means more than just having the right appliances and avocado-colored counters. Being eco-friendly means serving food that's easy on your digestive system and the world around you.

Answer this question: Your guests want their martinis shaken, not stirred. You'll fill the shaker with ice cubes from (a) a tray in your freezer, (b) the icemaker built into the refrigerator door, so you don't have to open the freezer.

That's one of the easy ones, peeps. Take the rest of the test here.

If all else fails, remember what my old friend Marcia used to say, "If it's organic, don't panic."

Thank a Veteran Today

Here are some ways to thank former soldiers for their service to our country.

Call.

Booty-Call.

Write.

Write on their wall.

Write on their body with whipped cream.

Send a thank you note.

Deliver it in person.

Wearing your best nightie.

Have your kids send an email.

Put the kids to bed and send one yourself.

Bake some cookies.

Deliver them dressed up like a nurse or maid or cabana boy and play for a few hours.

While you're at it, thank a veteran of the police or fire departments. Thank a political veteran who secured an Obama victory last week. Thank a veteran social worker who helps the homeless. Thank a mom or dad who sacrifices for their children's future. Thank a veteran of the school system.

There are lots of ways to serve our country.

Wait. If you're going to thank a teacher or former teacher, I have more ideas...

My Zodiac Sign is Scorpio

November 10, 1969--9:31am--Dunmore, Pennsylvania

My mother passed out within seconds because pain medication makes her "feel funny". Doctors used forceps to yank me out of there. Mom blames my stubborn streak and big head. I just wanted to avoid the Nixon administration.



Everyone “ooh'd” and “ahh'd” even though, let's face it, I was a funny lookin' kid. Nana and Aunt Mimi, both nurses, were available to beam. Bio Dad was off in Germany getting drunk.

Within hours, hospital administration carried me back into my mom's room with all the necessary equipment a newborn needed back in the Dark Ages. They must have looked ridiculous.

“Noreen, we have a problem,” they said. “Catherine is disturbing other infants in the nursery. While I realize you need peace and quiet, so does everyone else and frankly, we’re sick of the complaints. Catherine is going to sleep in here from now on and we use that term loosely. Good luck - she's all yours."



Don't let that cherubic face fool you.

Although once in my mother's arms, I stopped fussing immediately - content with constant attention. This theme would repeat itself in various ways for the rest of my life.

Here's to thirty-nine years of keeping it real.

Living with My Parents

It presents certain challenges. Dad's a grump and Mom never met a catalog, children's artwork, or lottery ticket she didn't want to keep "just in case."

The benefits of living here are abundant. I'm saving a ton of money, my mother cooks the most delicious meals and she enjoys hanging out with my children.

The best though are their conversations. These conversations usually take place while the washing machine, dishwasher and surround sound are kickin' all at the same time.

The other night, Mom and Dad were hammering and drilling together a wooden table that will hold the All-White, All-Christian, All-the-Time Christmas Village. Dad, squatted, tried to maneuver himself underneath and got stuck. He looked like Jabba the Hut. Then he got pissed.

Mom: Don't point that drill at me. It makes me uncomfortable.
Dad: You don't know uncomfortable. I can't sit this way much longer. Pass me my beer.
Mom: Where did I put my wine?
Dad: Your second glass of wine.
Mom: Your second beer!

Dinnertime is always a load of laughs. Check it.

Dad: You asked me if I wanted a meatball sandwich and I thought it was gonna be on a hoagie. This is a damn hotdog bun!
Mom: I toasted it up real nice for you.
Dad: Can you get me a fork? Christ. It's fallin' apart.
Mom: How about 'Thank you, Noreen. This sure is tasty.' That's what our friend Alan* says to his wife even if what he's eatin' is shit.
Dad: Jeez, darlin'. Two cosmopolitans in you and this is what happens.
Mom: Those two were just what the doctor ordered.
Dad: How about that fork?
(Mom dances around the kitchen and ignores him.)

Mom and Dad saw Neil Diamond in concert a few weeks ago. Woke up the next day and put on their Neil Diamond DVD to relive the magic. Volume was 57 out of 60.

Dad: Is he married?
Mom: Huh?
Dad: IS HE MARRIED?
Mom: Oh! Catherine said he's married to some young chick.
Dad: Huh?
Mom: YES HE IS.
Dad: Oh. Yeah. That's what I thought.
Mom: That woman doesn't sing as well as Barbra Streisand.
Dad:Huh?
(Mom gets up and dances. My kids complain they can't read their books with all the goddamn noise. I wonder if it's too early to start drinking.)

Then there's this from the other day...

Mom: I got shrimp on sale at Publix today.
Dad: Huh?
Mom: I got shrimp on sale at Publix today!
(Dad shakes his head, all disgusted.)
Dad: I don't know why in the hell you'd buy a shirt at Publix. They mark it up to high hell and the quality is for shit...
(Mom laughs and pours herself another glass of wine.)

If you can't beat 'em...

Lutz Little League Isn't for Wimps

I have never really enjoyed outdoor activity and sports are boring. There. I said it. Combining the two always sounded like torture until I had children of my own.

Sure, I'd prefer an air-conditioned museum or theatre-going experience, but I gave birth to two athletes. They came out swinging so there's nothing I can do. They already have to deal with a mouthy mom who uses sarcasm and underwear to make a point. The least I can do is sit my nicely toned ass in the stands and cheer them on.

But make no mistake, Little League is rough.

First of all, there's the bugs. Insects in Lutz are suicidal and dangerous, like Lindsay Lohan on crack. Two have already gotten caught in my hair and one flew into the ump's mouth when he was fighting with a parent over a lousy call.

Parents are worse than the bugs. Mas and Pas drag their kids on the field when those poor runts are sick, tired, and then they yell at them to "wake up and look alive!" The coaches scream and yell and, if you listen closely enough, you can hear their arteries hardening. If I hear one more idiot holler, "Baseball ready!" I will kill him before his inevitable stroke does.

The political discussions are priceless. Folks who can't quite grasp score-taking responsibilities try to talk about political beliefs based on five minutes of Fox News before happy hour begins. Spare me your foreign policy theories, Bubba, and just keep chewin' that tobacco. Mow my lawn afterwards and pipe down.

Fall Ball is supposed to be the practice league to prepare for the ultra-competitive Spring Ball. In the fall, they stack a few teams with known superstars and the rest of the teams get newbies and uncoordinated future accountants. Scouts sniff around and see who to watch for when tryouts take place in February or March.

I hate that I know all this, but I do. I sit in the stands, with my laptop because the games are two hours long and I've got sh*t to do, but I still pay attention.

The parents complain about how we're the losing-est team on the roster.

Oldest and Youngest aren't thrilled with this situation because they rock. Despite the fact they are new to this area, they can hit, throw and catch better than most.

"I want to win, Momma."

"Yeah, I know, kiddo. Wait until Spring Ball and we'll be back with a better team."

Sigh. I hope they don't start calling me Ma.

Calling Obama Supporters!

I hope you've enjoyed your rest. You deserved it.

Now it's time to get back to work. Health care is in crisis, troops must be brought home, and a troubled economy needs help.

Global warming? Hello?

Barack Obama cannot do it alone. If we go back to watching television instead of staying engaged in the process, we are doomed!

The celebrating is over. Find a cause and get on it, people!

You can start here. The fact that Barack Obama's administration is already reaching out and inviting us to participate speaks volumes about where we are headed.

Answer the call.

h/t Statey

Chapter 12

Is there such a thing as justifiable killing? Just askin'.

Here is the next installment.

Enjoy. Or not. Completely up to you.

At First I Was Bummed

Voters said yes to Amendment 2 here in Florida.

The gay marriage ban passed in California.

What the hell is wrong with people? But then I got to thinking. And by *thinking* I mean *talking.* Cause my friends are wicked smart.

What if these amendments are blessings in disguise? What if they present a golden opportunity for a plaintiff to bring his discrimination complaints before a court of law and the appeals end at the Supreme Court?

The same Supreme Court that might have two or three vacancies during Barack Obama's first term.

An Obama SC... hearing a case about discrimination...separate but equal nonsense...and settling the gay marriage question once and for all could be quite interesting.

Maybe I'm not so bummed after all.

Damn Right It Was a Good Day

More on the election and complaints over amendments later. Right now, let's savor the reality that a nation not too far removed from slavery, a nation where racists have been known to flaunt their hatred, a nation where the few sometimes bully the many....

that nation elected a black man with a funny name to be president.

We chose hope over fear, change over more of the same, and tomorrow over yesterday.

On behalf of my children, I am grateful. And so proud of us.

I Don't Need Coffee or a Chicken Sandwich, But I'll Take a Love Toy

Too bad I don't live in New York or Seattle or Las Vegas.

Someone remind me to call The Todd Theater in four years and get in on some of this action.

It's go time, peeps.

h/t Johnny Fonts

Is Anyone *Not* Voting?

Go here to find your polling place.

Come on, Starbucks will even give you a free cup of coffee when you're done.

See you on the other side, peeps.

The Vet Who Didn't Vet

Poor McCain - check out this video.



What will we do after tomorrow? When we won't have Sarah Palin to kick around anymore? Oh well. I can wait eight years before seeing her again.

I really can.

A Sign of the Times

I was driving home from work the other day and saw a sign outside a church. It said: "Another Christian church against discrimination. Vote No on 2."

Amen to that.

Then there's this.

h/t Darden

I Need a Big Kosher Pickle and a Cold Draft Beer...

Took the boys to see Jimmy Buffett and rally for change yesterday. The margaritas and good vibes were flowing.

Youngest made a sign with "Change '08" written in big orange letters. He wanted to wave it to people inside the Ford Amphitheatre. While waiting in line for that frozen concoction that helps me hang on, a woman poked me in the arm.

"I'll buy your kid's sign for five bucks."

I thought maybe I'd heard her wrong. I looked over at my children who were marching around with the sign and waving at their adoring audience. "He's not actually selling the sign. He made it himself to -"

"He asked me if I wanted to buy it," she slurred with a cigarette in her mouth. "Told me it was ten bucks. Now I can do five, but not ten. Your other kid told me five was a good deal."

I looked at my children who were suddenly by my side. They smiled sheepishly.

Cigarette Lady's friend poked her in the arm. "You only have five bucks left, Dolores, and beer is four dollars."

"Oh," CL said. "Forget it sweetheart. I need a drink before I need a sign."

My boys and I mingled through the crowd, discussing economics and dancing with our fins out. Oldest surveyed the scene and said, "I cannot believe all these people are voting for Barack Obama."

"This is nothing," I said. "Wait'll the numbers start rolling in Tuesday night. You won't believe the amount of people who are voting for Barack Obama."


Changes in latitudes, peeps.

Fun With Republicans

Sarah Palin gets a phone call from France's president and doesn't realize it's a prank.

Really? This didn't give it away?

"I just love killing those animals ... take away life, that is so fun!"

John McCain goes on SNL and proves his face doesn't crack when smiling. Who knew?



And then there's Elizabeth Dole. Like most Republicans who are losing, Liddy's gone batshit crazy.



I would say, "Good times." But. You know. They aren't.